#i had one made for me when i was a baby. green bug print on plain yellow. i treasure it dearly

[jelreth]

working on another fleece tied blanket and boy. i suddenly remember why i havent done this since the ones i sent out to apollo and al for christmas. cats are fucking MENACES when you try to deny them access to a new and fun little tent , and will use any methods possible to jump over your hand while youre cutting the fabric

[wordpimp]

We live in a world of calm and speculation.

Rainstorm gesthemane, hialeah watertown.

Be good to me daddy, he says.

I will baby, she says.

They argued a little earlier abt what to call things. They stepped into a mud hole, she carried him across a mud puddle. A turtle floated them across its back. It was flat. Lounge lizards in tucson, in tulsa, in poughkeepsie.

It was hot in july in the trailer. White broadside yellow cream trim, it was pretty in a way. Petticoat, baby wore mary janes to match, white socks farmer tan. Yellow wig. Ginger blossom. He had a few tattoos, but really only liked one of them. It was a bird, a kanji, the owl.

梟

Baby went to japan once, mt fuji, and asked for sake like a tourist. For a long time they thought abt him, there, in the wind.

Around evening, baby would want ice cream from the ice cream truck. Parlor junction. Mi casa es su casa, the driver used to say. But baby misinterpreted the one time he went down there: mikasa.

It was a brand of dinnerware but they already had some. Casa with a K. They did that a lot. Sign of puberty. The world was young, then. Flags were rectangular, money was printed on clothes. Put a dollar in me, the walls whined at night. Labor of love.

*

Signs in the chimney. When they were able to, they would have a fire again. Saturday maybe. The days were gone, mixed up since daddy had begun to work again. Out in the yard, in the cinder, baby could hear the pitchfork shovel of machinery. He smiled at his typewriter. It was fitting. 

A bug flew in from somewhere, green-yellow, yellow-green, there must have been a window left open. It looked like a crayon. Stick of wax, eyes, cardboardy paper, birch bark. O the skin of my love. 

Baby lit a cigarette on the stove, waiting to flick the ash, started boiling some water for mac n cheese. Mac in cheese. Macaroni and cheese. It was italian. Starving, he noticed. Ice cream for dessert, maybe tonight.

He wondered abt daddy, what she would do when she came in, what would she say, what new saying, what did she see out there. Or maybe a souvenir today, taking her time to dig up the bottles and ingots she got paid to hand over. Sometimes she would bring one of those back. A small gem, it might go into a scepter or a walnut, it might make a tree in the country, a beautiful place from a story.

Tire swing. That sounded too beautiful to baby. He hardly noticed the light swelling on his arm, where the crayon had landed, and the kettle boiling, or the white hot flowers. Bloom of midday he needed a nap.

*

Baby had the most extended childhood of anyone. He was born in a manger, he died on the cross. He was wet he was hard. He couldn't cum, then he couldn't stop. 

That he wasn't a cult leader, that he wasn't a shepherd, with a flock to watch over or admonish, that he didn't abandon them all to go sit in judgment of everyone he ever met or heard of, that was a minor miracle. It made sense if you heard of easter, running out in bare feet with diapers, eating all that candy. Chocolate bunny marshmallow bird, give me the stomach to jesus. Baby jesus, jesu of man's desiring. If you ate all that candy, you would never want that responsibility. 

Instead baby was a loud quiet person. Chaotic quiet, perturbed by everything. Lately he had been frustrated by the wallpaper, by the color of time, orange like the sun blue like the water green like the pears or unripe apples. Ripe pears unripe apples. Confusing. Some of the wallpaper was peeling but it was almost peaceful that way. Maybe it wouldn't burn all at once, if that was its destiny. It was a taste of freedom, for baby. Like coming out of a cupboard, a box cutter to skin. Letting the hunger abate.

Baby liked to sleep in a small bed. I think it's closest to the true meaning of his character.

*

Daddy shut and locked the front door behind her when she went to work outside. The back door stayed locked. It wasn't to keep baby in, it was to keep the lunatics out. She was going to ride her tractor for a little bit, and dig a little bit. Who knows. Metals in the earth. She had heard that there was a meteorite under the sand. It had brought up ghosts. It was actually what people had come to see. Why they lived there. 

Daddy never saw the ghosts anymore, but jehovahs and mormons, scientologists, they would sometimes come by and that was bad for baby. He would talk to anyone, he just couldn't help it.

Daddy was more circumspect. She talked to strangers and people that she knew casually but said very little. Hi dolores hi bill, hi stephen. Their house was at the end of the street. A few neighbors, the creek. Mulberry tree, sideyard with a big hole from digging. They had been thoughtful and made the quarry wide enough to corkscrew down a few more turns. She hoped they wouldn't have to move for another year or two, it was a nice setup. 

*

Daddy's schedule to get the ice cream was posted on the fridge. Left side mwf, right side, the rest of the week. Daddy made it, really worked hard on it. Pews in a church. Wings pearl grey. Everything was pearly. Cum colored or pink. Raw and toothy. It was the inside of a mouth. Of a cunt. Daddy shaved her leg. This is the one, lick it.

Tonight, daddy would go get ice cream for them, or eat the cake while the truck went down there for her. It stopped at the hill, not a long walk. Laundromat, axila, underarms. Excitement. Daddy liked to walk. It's the ether, she said. She never went to mt fuji either.

Daddy thought abt buying a general motors car, an olds cutlass supreme, gliding smoothly over rough asphalt. It's what you think abt while you shave, while you fuck. Nice, smooth. Blue midnight metallic half vinyl top. That's the kind of car they would drive.

They rode sidesaddle. Half beard in the mirror, there are pirates who invented transgenderism. Walk the plank. Is that also the abyss? Or a kind of it, a version. For reasons they only knew, this was never consummated.

Where do we live daddy. Is it a trailer? Is it a house. Is it a cabin?

It's a mansion. Big enough for you little bird.

It really was big enough, no matter what they called it.

*

Daddy stopped in the mirror. She was a bit run down from the summer. The gel of her eyes was blue or brown or aqua, ça dépendait, when the sun hit. She didn't wear pants or shoes. Inside, she didn't wear much of anything. Baggy shirt. Why hide all this, she thought, and so she didn't hide it.

Pudor is for the dirt, the shirt said, in yellowing cotton.

Daddy liked to sleep under covers. The bed was warmer for her. Nude and warm and redolent. Patchwork lace embroidered, panels in a tapestry. She felt like penelope.

One time daddy saw a diagram of a medieval church, all the parts like a body on a map, a table of divine making. But not anymore, they were done with operations. Trepan my brain, amputate my ear, excise, cut me, dig. It was already there. It was science.

Ash on a mantle. Face in a polaroid. There is one of daddy and baby pinned to the closet. 

Baby said they lived on a cliff. It was curious to listen to him talk. He talked in his sleep too. Cliff, diving board. Daddy liked to hear him talk, she knew he could see something and sometimes she could see it too. Rolling down the street in a dream, jumping off a building. Play in that water. She felt good in the mornings when she could talk to him about what he dreamt, what he was seeing. It got her excited.

Meanwhile baby slept and talked in his sleep. Jackdaw emu...

She could tell he was dreaming abt birds again.

*

Daddy. 

Yes baby.

Remember that movie abt the birds? You know the weird one I told you abt? I dreamt abt that again last night. But now there's a garden. And children. Well, two. I think they're us. I think they're us before, and maybe again. And it's very sad and very strange but also very healing. It's like when you come back from your work and tell me abt the outside. It's like when you tell me what to do. 

Like I know you can't stay. I know this is all ending. It's the end already, but I can't help it. It's all I dream abt now. 

Baby it's never enough but it always has to be enough. Why don't you come sit with me. Let me hold you.

I want to come back here. I want to grow up and get big and strong and ready. I want to lift you on my shoulders and fly with you, and throw you in the water. You'll see, then I'll dive with you. We'll swim. Will you wait for me, until I can do it. Will you watch me?

She could never say no to him, not like that.

When baby was finished talking he put the blanket on daddy and started a fire in the fireplace.

The flames did a slow dance, like salome. He saw a headless snake, ankles and rigging, the stubborn wind. It was the edge of the world. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep but he dreamt of the morning when they'd both be naked and wet.

[laraartistsworld]

I like to paint bugs !!

A few of my pages I did during lockdown in my sketchbook

The first bug was a random one I found on Pinterest to use as a reference but with no name ughh don’t you just hate that when there is no explanation on a picture ?!!

Anyway he is watercolour and ink and I love this guy what ever type beetle he is !!

This guy is a tiger beetle I didn’t really do him justice as he had a beautiful green body

It interesting looking back over work I did a few years ago how much I have grown in my confidence and my work has definitely improved

I try to work in a sketchbook or something creative at least 15 mins everyday but mostly that will

Lead into a few hours

As this is my sanctuary my since my daughter left

Home 5 years ago and I turned her room into my art studio my art work has been daily and has grown with me all the way to me holding my first exhibition September just gone I sold 5 paintings and 4 prints this was such a huge boost to my confidence that I’ve made about £800 and all who bought one of my pieces was so happy with them and happy to pay

Also had such great feedback in my visitors book

Two days before the exhibition no nearly talked myself out telling myself I wasn’t good enough

But yay I did it and so happy I did.

I love this spider I did the contrast of the pencil and water colour love this effect and the mushrooms.

I love how this spider came to be :)

The ladybug page was made up from random old found papers, I collect and have far too much off I lie !!!! (HahHa never too much !!!) I built the Pages over a few days, I never plan what I’m going to paint,I just go for it, sometimes it works sometimes it doesn’t I happen to love this whole sketchbook for some reason it was flowing for me during lockdown and each page just works ,

I’ve not returned it to the Brooklyn sketchbook library yet as two more pages to complete also was finding it hard to let go of my baby ,but I’ve reached the point I’m cool to share it !!

Let me explain if you don’t know about the Brooklyn arts library

A fabulous idea so you buy a sketchbook from them fill it however you like and send it back to them ,they digitalis it and also take batches to various exhibitions etc

Such a great community and drape needs our support it would be too sad if they couldn’t continue

Anyway folks I’m still learning about this blogging thing ,

I used to blog by avatar in second life

But this is my real life and it doesn’t quite flow like it did when I blogged by avatar

So bare with my guys and gals I’m sure I’ll grow and find this easier , and not so many teething problems as I’ve been trying to post this for a few weeks now !!

I’m now happy to put it out there !!!

[frankyz287]

The field outside.

------

Words: 1139

Date: 1/4/23-1/5/23

>Tw, talk about heavy topics, if not being able to handle please read something else❗️❗️<

>BUT ALSO THIS IS ALL FAKE❗️ idk If I would get taken down if I don't put this but just in case.🗣❗️<

------

As a child I remember the times out in the backyard.

On those summer days back in 2006.

The sunny days I spent in my back yard looking at the field that was full of noting but Bugs and snakes.,

The wind blew making the hay like plants flow, making their own dance as she swayed side to side

Back then I was 7, the world was noting more of bigger people who where my parents and other people who they knew

My siblings. Being older taunted and teased me being smaller and weaker then them

I miss those days even if back then they where noting but childhood fun., I miss playing with my Little poney toys. Pretending they where on a big adventure to save the Queen...

Those days are gone.

Noting but distant memories. Somthing I think of when I'm on those summer days now, wasting my time with whatever shit I had

The days where I was. Could be happy...and not some stupid smoker 23 year old,

I miss the days where I could run inside the house hearing my mother in the kitchen with the music in the background...making lunches of sandwiches with some Chips for a side and some juice to wash it down with...

Those days. Looking back where noting but a normal day...instead of the days I long being a young child...who knew noting but her toys.,

I walk down the dirt road I knew to well from my mother sending me and my brother out to the store. I road in the Red wagon we owned. He use to pull my up and down the hill...

I walk past the woods that we use to make tree forts in. Forts that would fall apart in second of being done with them

I look around at my surroundings making sure I didn't fall in that hole that was never fix. I still can hear my father mutters of "that damn hole" every time we ran over it

I finally hit the good old mail box...the thing we all made together. Our hand prints on it, faded but still there...purple was my color...my sister was yellow and my brother was green...dad was red and mom was blue,

I rubbed my bigger figures past my then baby ones.

I soon walked away from it and walked to the house infornt of it. A old wooden house with yellow colors and white frames on it.

It been years since I came here..

not since mom passed...

The old path of different colored and sized circled stones where was much the same as normal.

The summer night air picked up making the Windchimed ring its bell I remembered well.,

the swinging seat was in the same place it was when I left it. The changes that held it in place where Rusty and almost ready to snap after years of being alone. Pasting the winter to fall, the rain and sun...

Once I got to the door, my feet felt weird missing the welcome rugged that use to be there...silly but I remember my bear feet touching it after I played outside for hours.

Even tho I'm in my shitty sport shoes it still feels off...

I rummaged around in my pocket until I got the key out, I put it close to the looked door and turned it, hearing the unclicking sound and soon the sounds of a squeaky door that use that was always update when my father was around,

I Step into the house....it looked the same. The Big boxy TV with the recliner that my dad use to lay in his work uniform watching whatever was on while he drank his "dad juice" he put it as even when my brother told me it was beer.

I could hear my mother from the kitchen telling me to take my shoes off since "I don't want dirty Floor prints."...

I took my shoes off putting them alone on some plastic flooring we used. It was dusty with thick dark Grey on the black plastic..., I closed the door behind me turning my phone Flash light on missing the cream colors I was met with normally.

I miss the sound of the TV on and the music playing while my mom cleaned.

I walked in more looking at the tints of Old toys in the living room by the bricked fireplace., I could see old dolls. Ponies and half coloring books. Blocks and some stuffed animals that haven't been touched in years,

I looked up the stairs that where only to the left of me. I saw the marks that where left behind the photos that year nailed their for years. Baby to middle school photos...small ones of holidays where gone and in some boxes I wish I had found before I did this.

Remembering the times me and my siblings would sit and play on the also Carpeted Stairs. Our cheeks or arms getting imprints from it once we got bored.

I walked more into the kitchen. The Fridge was empty but the Magnets and a few photos of my parents. Young and in love, a few colored in lion king pictures from our coloring books. Some colors where perfect and others where just scribbles called art.

I can remember being a "little helper" in the kitchen when it came to baking. Licking the frosting or eating the chocolate chips that where left over from making cookies...,

I remember my mother talking to me but what those conversations where of I can't remember. Just being more onto the Sugar my little body craved so much back then.

The house smell was noting but dirt and Rusty stuff and possibly mold.

I wish I listened to my mother more.

I look out of the small window that was above the sink, a window my mom would yell out to use for. Either for use getting to close to the now wilted down into the Soil by now. Or it was dinner time.

I look out to see the field I use to fear. Bugs and snakes where somthing that younger me couldn't handle well, but tonight

Was different...

And this leads me to now. A sad 23 year old who is writing on the counter that was full of dust as well, this doubting people would see it or care for it..but I need somewhere to write down my thoughts. But this is getting to long isn't it...

But if someone does find this...then im already dead.

I'm sorry.

I'm in the fields I feared at one point. If you want to call the cops to tell them their a rotting cropes outside 8 feet away from where your standing possibly.

I wasn't murdered...

I just missed my family...

I just wanted to meet them again...

------

Uhm, so i hope you enjoyed this shorter story then my normal ones but I just felt sad about getting older and just made a quick story.

[chil2de]

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

[jesslockwood]

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end 

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films. 

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects. 

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out. 

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe… 

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was. 

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig. 

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on. 

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you. 

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos. 

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line. 

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!” 

“Have you seen him in Uncharted?  We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op. 

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink. 

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side. 

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask. 

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment. 

 He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you. 

-

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.  

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’  I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight. 

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

-

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea. 

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic. 

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one,  so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning. 

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter. 

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement. 

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood. 

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day. 

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

-

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat. 

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line. 

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar. 

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh. 

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-” 

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up. 

You laugh at that. 

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard. 

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business. 

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around. 

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

-

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back. 

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks. 

  You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie. 

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27

[honeyhenry]

Homeward Bound

A/N: This was NOT meant to be this long...but I was inspired and now we have this... dad!Syverson....you can thank me later :)

Warnings: army-related talk, labour, fluff (because i rue the day I actually write anything other than that)

After an honourable stint, Captain Syverson had finally finished up his active duty in the army, having chosen now to spend his life devoted and committed to you. While every second week he had to make a daily 45 minute commute up the road to train newbies needing a boot up their asses to prepare for the realities of war, Sy was able to come home to you just in time for dinner every evening. He got the best of both worlds, earning a solid pay with training up new recruits, and having the ability to make good on those promises he made you way back before he told you that the next tour would be his last.

He had kept his first promise within a month of him returning for good - giving you a shiny ring that he’d had the deposit down on for as long as he can remember. That was his most nerve-wracking promise to keep, even though you’d assured him no matter what, the answer would always be a “yes”. His second promise was also signed, sealed, and delivered within weeks of his return, most likely conceived in celebration of your engagement.

That promise had stuck with you a little more than the first; “Gonna put a baby in ya, peach. Can promise ya that I’m ready for wantin that with ya.”

Sy had arrived home in October, and there you were, round and ready to pop at the end of the following August.

During your labour on that warm summer’s day, he’d been gritting it out right beside you, clutching your hand and holding your half full cup of ice chips, using his best Captain voice in offering encouragement. Between contractions you had cried, screeched, and panicked. It had seemed Sy had given you the big baby he had been so certain of.

“Your baby’s too big Syv, it hurts so much...”

“Peach believe me, if I could I’d take all this pain for ya I would” he had comforted you, knowing by making eye contact that he meant every word. You had relaxed momentarily at the love you held for him, before the pain hit again leaving you crying and screaming once more.

And then Captain Syverson heard the words that he detests, typically uttered from his soldiers in the base camps or training rounds. 

“I can’t...”

It’s a cowards way of thinking, a poor outlook on life, and it makes the entire side weak because of one weak link. It angers him to no end, and he usually ends up heading off alone to clear his head. But not when it’s you

“I can’t do it, Sy...”

You’re the strongest person he knows, pushing out a brand new Syverson into the world with minimal medication and a steely determination for the past 14 hours. You’re no coward, and you’re by no means weak. He’s had men on his side who haven’t blinked in the face of adversity and terrorism, and yet here you were, stronger than the lot of them in every way.

“Yeah you can, peach. Ya think I’d put my baby in any ol’ fool? No it’s you, ‘cause you’re the strongest woman I know. C’mon now, let’s have us a baby.”

And then you did it, almost an hour later and she’s earth-side. As the sun had set on the last day of a sweltering August, it is as though the room cools to a warm breeze, the world stopping in its tracks as you birth your sweet baby Syverson, born in the first minutes of a new September. She’s all yours, and when the doctor announced above the primal, wild screams that “it’s a girl!” you’d looked to Sy, watching him as he cried. It was just a couple of tears, and he won’t admit that they happened, but it sure as hell doesn’t make him any less proud.

You’ve only been cooped up in the room for 24 hours, and while you and baby Syverson have been cared for and helped with the basics (along with you receiving a substantial amount of pain relief), Sy wanted you and his baby girl home so that he could be the one to take care of you both; plump your pillows, fetch you cups of tea, burp the baby, dote on her endlessly. All within the quiet, cosy home you’d made together over the past years and months. Pictures lined the walls, featuring happy memories including your courthouse wedding that had been planned and occurred within a week of knowing about baby Sy. Your big gruff man just couldn’t take not having you as his wife, especially when you were carrying his child.

There’d also been a picture of the sonogram taped to the fridge in your quaint little kitchen, courtesy of Sy wanting to see the baby each morning before heading to work, or while he cooked you a warm breakfast. It’s as though he didn't keep updated pictures in his wallet and in his truck, right next to a beautiful picture of you. From your first sonogram with “SYVERSON” printed at the top, Sy loved to see his growing family, and always taped the newest scan picture right on top, using the same piece of tape he’d just found laying around one afternoon. Now, after plenty of pictures taken on his phone, he was going to update the fridge once more to feature a picture of the little pink squish with big bug eyes and a smattering of dusty brown hair. Maybe he’ll add some new tape, too.

Now three Syversons would live in this home, where old caps, worn from war and still grimy after a couple of washes, lay around the house, and where a still somewhat-tinged green Aika would roam freely - except on the bed. Sy was adamant that Aika never jumped or slept on the marital bed. That was his place, with his woman. The wooden interior and cosy fireplace that Sy himself had built, made it an even more homely and special place for you both to live. The perfect place out in the country to raise your girl. 45 minutes from Sy’s work, 15 to the local school. It was a dream, and now it had come true, as you watch him lift your princess into the baby carrier, fastening her in and watching her little pouty face as he removes his large, warm hands that you know she must adore being held by already.

He’s so glad that he can now take you both home. He insists on carrying both the baby carrier and the hospital bag from the past few days as you both leave the room where your girl entered the world, now entering the real world and all the opportunities she would have out there to explore. Since you don’t have to lift a thing, you just get to watch the sweet view of the “scary” Captain Sy check things off mentally to make sure you've brought everything.

“As long as we bring the baby home, I think we’ll be okay” you grin, and he blinks out of his organised, battle-ready mindset for a moment, remembering that this wasn’t some covert operation. This was a big deal, but one that is exciting and new and as Sy turns to look at his daughter again, it seems he’s already forgotten how tiny she is. She’s wrapped up, but Sy insists that he wraps the carrier with his flannel top, protecting the baby from both the sun, and any chill that pierces the air. He can’t resist a final little peek into the baby carrier as you sign the final documents to discharge you both from the hospital. You even hear him talk to your sweet girl, having one of their first little talks together.

“i’ll show ya a real home, just wait. Nun’a this bright light and doctors nonsense. Got a crib with your name on it ya can be all cosy in. Built it myself while Momma watched. You are gonna be so loved up with her, she is everything sweet in the world. Just like you princess.”

“I thought i was your princess?” you interrupt him and...is that a blush you see mark his cheeks? If only his men knew the state you could get the great Captain Syverson into, and most likely that your baby girl will be able to as well.

“You’ve been promoted peach, after all that giving birth to her, you’re a queen among peasants. I got two number 1 gals now. Gotta be ya knight in shinin’ armour.”

All the war torn memories, the killing, and the violence from his past, doesn’t mean a thing. It baffles him to this day - he still doesn't know how he’s ended up with two slices of heaven in you and your baby girl, but he’s selfish and he’s keeping you all for himself.

“You can be a Captain to your men but you’re our King, Sy. I know you’ll always protect us, and she’ll grow up knowing that too. Now come on. Let’s get her out of here. Lead the way Daddy?” you grin, watching as he proudly marches through the doors of the ward with a tight grip on the baby carrier, while the bag is slung over his shoulder.

The rest of his life with you and baby Syverson, just waiting on the other side.

taglist: @seriouslygoodlookinggents @ohmygoodie 

[quietmyfearswith]

happy hoelidays ; preferences

warnings — allusions to smut, swear words, wanting kids (idk)

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, ransom drysdale, jake jensen, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, will shaw, august walker

a/n — here’s my entry for the happy hoelidays 2020 hosted by @stargazingfangirl18, @navybrat817 , and @donutloverxo 🎄 Y/M/N = your mother’s name 🎄 lmk what you think!!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy

masterlist

I asked for one thing this year…you — dialogue prompt

Andy was going over the last of his files; as Christmas neared, he decided to take the week off. Despite it being something he didn’t usually do, he deemed it only necessary since he was spending the particular holiday with his beloved. Hearing the bustling of Christmas ornaments and decorations made the lawyer raise his gaze from the papers in front of him to the girl who was placing stockings with his and Y/N’s names by the fireplace — he didn’t even know that they had such stockings. “What do you have there, baby?” 

Turning to him with a wide grin as she held the two trinkets, “I bought these two when I was at the mall the other day; they’re so cute!” As she pinned them by the fireplace, Andy hugged her so his front was flush against her back. “I do think they’re adorable like you,” Pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, Y/N giggled as his facial hair tickled her, “But I don’t think that the Christmas sock is necessary, especially for me.” Looking over to him with worried eyes and furrowed eyebrows, Y/N assumed the worst, “You don’t like it? Is it the color? Or did you see the gift I bought for you and think it’s shit?” Stopping her from overthinking, Andy kissed her deeply and held her hands between their chests to prevent her from wiggling away, “It’s not that, baby.” His statement didn’t help her confusion so Andy further explained, “I asked for one thing this year,” Kissing the knuckles in both her hands before looking up at her with pure love and adoration before confessing, “You. You’re what I asked for and I’m glad it came true.”

Oh, see, I thought we were going to enjoy a nice holiday dinner, and then you had to go and do that. I’m very disappointed, sweetheart — dialogue prompt

Knowing how much his girlfriend adored the Christmas season, August tried his best to end any missions before it or not accept any new ones. Thankfully this year he wasn’t needed elsewhere; so he decided to cook up a delicious homemade meal for the two of them. While he was doing the final preparations for their meal, he wondered what Y/N was doing. As he placed the chicken he cooked on the table, he removed the apron — something she’d gifted him when she found out he developed a habit of cooking and was extremely good — and headed to their shared bedroom, “Little one? Where are you?”

Y/N was nervous as she twirled in front of the mirror completely fixated on whether or not the babydoll she was going to wear later after their dinner looked good; so fixated she failed to hear his deep voice call out for her. When the door creaked open she turned around, they both gasped at the situation they were in. Y/N wasn’t planning for August to catch her in one of his gifts this early; while the latter was incredibly turned on that his erection was aching to be attended to. “Oh, see, I thought we were going to enjoy a nice holiday dinner,” He pointed to the door as he approached her with slow steps; “And then you had to go and do that,” He grabbed the cloth of her skimpy outfit before continuing, “I’m very disappointed, sweetheart.” Confused about his arousal that she mistook for anger, “What do you mean, Aug? Don’t you like this babydoll I got for you?” Her pout was so adorable that it only added to his desire for her as he clarified, “I love the babydoll, but I’m disappointed because now food’s gonna get cold because we’re gonna have to take care of this,” He grabbed one of her hands and let it feel his raging erection against his pants. Giggling at his problem, Y/N then squeezed his cock and sultrily teased, “Let’s get to it then, daddy.”

Congratulations. You’ve officially won the Ugly Sweater contest. — dialogue prompt

There were a lot of technological advancements that Bucky was thankful for; the improvement of the laundry washer and dryer wasn’t one of them though. It was just too much to comprehend for his cyborg brain with all the options and different detergents and products one can use. So he came to a compromise with his girlfriend; she’ll do the loading of their clothes into the washer and dryer, while he’ll unload them from the dryer and fold them. That set up worked perfectly for the two of them given how Y/N loathed having to fold clothes. But Bucky’s luck was wearing thin; Y/N was out running errands for the Christmas party of the Avengers and the former Winter Soldier was left alone at their living quarter. “Fuck it,” He whispered as he gathered all their dirty clothes and headed to the washer. The sweater he was going to wear was in the dirty pile of clothes and despite his disinterest in laundry. He poured whatever cleaning product looked suitable for the clothes and pushed the button that accomplished the task in the shortest amount of time. Opening the dryer, he immediately fished for his sweater and gasped out loudly with what the clothing article looked like. The once gray sweater was now littered with red and green streaks — thanks to the other Christmas sweaters and pajamas his girl had — and by some sorcery there was a white lace stuck to it as well as some colored cotton balls that were made to look like Christmas ornaments. Deciding that he didn’t really care, he decided to discard the shirt he was wearing and  be clothed in the sweater.

As he was walking over to the party hall, his eyes brightened upon seeing his girlfriend; hugging her from behind he planted a kiss on her cheek, “Hey, doll.” Smiling brightly at him, she kissed his nose and moved out from their hug and took a good luck on her boyfriend. Chuckling at what he was wearing she teased him, “Congratulations. You’ve officially won the Ugly Sweater contest.” He rolled his eyes as he buried his face in her neck to tickle her, which proved successful as she let out a bunch of giggles that made him chuckle against her skin — adding to the vibrations. “Maybe you should ask for Santa for a simple washer and dryer this year?” Shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders so they could enter the room he told her, “Only thing I wished for is to spend more Christmases with you.”

^ gif prompt

Despite having computer skills Jensen couldn’t find out the perfect gift for his girl — even though he may have snooped around on her phone and laptop and yet his search remained unfruitful and the man still was clueless on what to get her. He ended up buying a lot of gifts which included her favorite chocolate and snacks, jewelry he hoped she’d like, a sweater he thought would look adorable on her, lingerie he knew would fit her well, her favorite scented candles, and a framed print photograph of the two of them. As he was delicately placing the items into a large box he bought in her favorite color. Deep in focus, he failed to take note of the presence of his beloved woman, “What you got there, babe?”

Startled, he jumped to stand up and used his body as a shield to avoid her curious and wandering eyes to see the gifts. “Babe! Didn’t hear you come in. What are you doing here?” Chuckling at his flustered state she sassed at him, “Well I live here too, right?” As he placed his hands on his hips he shook his own head as he grimaced at himself and was internally smacking himself for his dumb reply; his girlfriend was more amused with his flustered expression rather than what he was previous doing. “Well the surprise is ruined now; since I was wrapping my gifts for you,” It broke Y/N’s heart to see him disappointed in himself so she placed a kiss on his cheek and covered her eyes with her hands, “I’m not looking so you can put that away; then to make you feel better we can have sex.” Jensen was immediately turned on with her sultry tone and preposition that he just shoved all off the things inside the box before covering it; carrying her bridal style and leaving out the spare room. Y/N was laughing loudly at how her boyfriend was more than eager to carry out her suggestion.

“Since when are you so good at wrapping gifts?” — dialogue prompt

The only gifts that were under Y/N and Sy’s Christmas tree were either gifts that had been given to them by friends or the few presents she bought for her boyfriend. Part of her was optimistic that Sy had gotten her a gift too big that it was impossible to place it underneath the tree; but the more pessimistic part of her taunted her that he didn’t bother getting her a gift. Sipping on her hot chocolate as she watched a movie, she scrunched up her face in confusion upon hearing Sy let out grunts as he walked towards her. “Are you alright, bear?” At the moment she cursed at how thick her man was since his body concealed what he held behind him. “I couldn’t wait any longer ‘till the 25th, bug. Just had to give my gift to you.” His Texan accent was thick as he was proud of the gift he held.

She patted the spot beside him and he was more than willing to sit beside her; then pushing up the wrapped up box he himself wrapped. Holding the huge box in her smaller hands, she threw him a mocking look, “Since when are you so good at wrapping gifts?” Rolling his eyes at her jab, he brought his hand to tickle her side, “Since I had to give my girlfriend the best gifts I could ever give her.” Her heart melted with his sincerity and knew in herself that even though she has yet to find out what’s inside the box but knew that it was the best gift she ever received. Pressing a kiss to both his cheeks she shyly mumbled, “Thank you, bear,” Before proceeding to open up the gift. It was a bit of a struggle for Y/N to open the gift as the packaging tape Sy used was sticky on her fingertips; the former Army captain refusing to help her in her distress but instead just chuckled at her adorable reactions. “Oh my God, Sy!” She squealed as she saw what was hidden under the poorly wrapped gift was the laptop she was eyeing for a while since her old one was pissing her off. The captain wrapped his arms around her smaller figure as she put the box on the floor gently and launched herself on her boyfriend’s lap to press kisses all over his bearded face. “You love my gift, bug?” Nodding enthusiastically she pressed a passionate kiss on his lips before answering, “I did bear; thank you so much!”

“Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you.” — dialogue prompt

Lance shut the door as he came home after attending the Christmas party he and his fellow coaches and gymnasts had. He was wearing a silly Christmas sweater and a red belt that was tied to mimic a ribbon from a wrapped gift. “I’m in the living room, angel,” He yelled in hopes that his girlfriend would come to him. When he heard the soft pitter patter of her feet, he smiled upon seeing her figure approach him. “Lancey! How was the party?” She wrapped his arms around his neck as he peppered kisses on his neck to which the gymnast giggled at as he was getting tickled by her shenanigans. “It was alright; turns out Maggie got me for secret Santa and just gave me hair gel.” Pausing her actions, she moved away from his neck and ruffled his hair, “She knows you really well considering how you use so much.”

Feigning offense, he placed a hand on his chest as he gasped, “It takes a lot of work to get this hair to look perfect, like it always does.” Giggling at his response she just kissed his cheek and reassured him, “It always looks good, Lancey; but I do love your bed hair the most.” Her lingering hands lifted his sweater a bit and was shocked to see his belt, “Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift,” With curious eyes he looked at her as she wiggled her eyebrows as she lowered herself to kneel on the floor; by now he caught her drift, smirking as he let her do as she pleases, “And now I get to unwrap you.”

^ gif prompt

It was the annual Avengers’ Christmas outreach program and though he wasn’t the overall head, Steve volunteered which resulted in his girlfriend doing the same. As he was handing out the gift baskets the other agents had prepared, he looked over to find Y/N who was currently entertaining the kids. A loving gaze rested on his face upon seeing how much of a sweetheart and how caring she was around kids — his thoughts then drifted about how much more gentle and nurturing she would be if it were their own kids. Few hours after the outreach program ended, Steve was waiting by one of the couches for Y/N as she was still talking to some of the other agents, wishing them a great Christmas Eve. Smiling as she saw his sculpted face she plopped herself down on his lap as she snuggled herself to him, “Hey there, soldier.” 

“You look real happy, doll,” He took note as she stroked the skin of her arm and felt her purr in pleasure from the simple act. “The kids were so sweet and adorable! One of them even thought I was a princess,” As she cooed about the children she interacted with earlier, Steve could not help his imagination as it drifted to images of him and Y/N taking care of their own. Settling one of his hands on her stomach, he began to run slow and soft circles on her skin as he spoke, “What if we had our own?” Craning her neck to look at him, she asked for clarification about what he meant, “What exactly are you saying, Steve?” A soft, serene smile graced his lips as he humorously spelt it out for her, “Why don’t we ask Santa for our own kid this year?” More than thrilled with his suggestion, she kissed his lips multiple times as she excitedly kissed his lips repeatedly, “Yes, yes, yes! I’d love that so much!” Pleased with her response he hugged her as he uttered lowly, “Best part of trying for a kid is the sex we’ll be having.”

Baking together — general prompts

“Baby, can you come over here?” Will’s voice called for his girlfriend as he was laying down the ingredients he bought earlier. Appearing from the bathroom where she peed, she stood beside him as she placed a hand on the kitchen island, “What you got here, bub?” Opening the recipe for the Christmas cookies he found on the internet, he pointed to his tablet and the ingredients, “I need help baking cookies, please.” Y/N softly chuckled at how her man was pouting at her for needing help. “What are the cookies for, Will?”

Pushing away from the sink and heading over towards her, he trapped her between his body and the kitchen island as he revealed, “Well this is really the first time that I’ve been excited to spend the Christmas season,” The business consultant knew that when she tilted her head that she was confused with where his explanation was going so he just bluntly let it out, “I was hoping that us baking together could be our Christmas tradition.” Y/N could not help but feel the butterflies in her stomach erupt as she loved what Will had to say. Nodding her head excitedly,  she hugged him, “I’d love that so much, bubba. That can be our holiday tradition starting from now.”

Kissing under the mistletoe — general prompts

The Christmas Eve gala Carter threw was nothing short of elegant and alluring. But as the CEO had his arm wrapped around his girlfriend, it was the only proof he needed to believe that the night was elegant and alluring with her by his side; they both donned the color red in the suit he wore and gown she was dressed in. “You did a good job, Car,” Y/N whispered before pressing a kiss on the shell of his ear. Politely ending his conversation with one of his business partners, Carter smiled at her, “I think I did. I mean, I got myself a beautiful girl who loves me so much and is great at bed.” His jab resulted into her softly slapping his chest to which he only laughed at as he pressed a kiss on her cheek. “There’s something I wanna show you,” Allowing himself to be dragged away, he excused themselves just as some people were trying to start a conversation with them.

“What did you want to show me, angel?” Standing face to face at an empty hallway, he wondered about what it was she wanted to show him. With a grin — one that seemed innocent but the man knew better that if anything her mind had impure thoughts — she pointed a finger up and his gaze followed and smirked upon seeing a mistletoe hanging from above the ceiling. “My needy girl just wanted a kiss from me huh?” Nodding her head, his soft hands cupped her cheeks and pulled her in so he could plant an ardent kiss on her lips; smiling when he felt her claw at his back moan at the touch of his lips against hers. Breaking away from the kiss Y/N grabbed one of his hands — though Carter raised a brow with what she was up to but remained mum — as he guided his hand down her body he was surprised when she pressed his hand against her clothed core, “My panty has a mistletoe printed on it; does it mean you’ll kiss me there too?” Biting his lip as he got hot and bothered at the thought, Carter promised, “Angel, even without a mistletoe you can bet on it that I’m gonna kiss and fuck you down there.”

Friends w/ benefits  — trope prompts

Ransom rolled on the bed and faced where Y/N was laying; he shocked himself as he ran his finger over the shape of her face with a rare, loving expression on his face. Before going up to dress himself up he kissed her forehead then headed for the kitchen. As he was preparing a pot of coffee and some toast for him and Y/N, he smiled as he heard some footsteps coming from her bedroom; might be waking up already, he thought. The front door opened to reveal a woman who looked like Y/N, but he suspected was older given how she had wrinkles on her face and had gray spots in her hair. “Oh, am I in the wrong apartment? I swear this where my daughter, Y/N, lives.” Putting the puzzle pieces together, he reassured her, “Oh don’t worry you’re in the right apartment,” He pointed to her bedroom as he spoke, “She just woke up and is probably washing up.” Ransom introduced himself as Y/M/N did the same as they shook hands; before an awkward silence could envelope them, there was a soft ping that came from the coffee pot to announce that the hot beverage was ready, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” The older woman nodded as she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, “Yes please; I also bought some bagels and croissants that we could eat.”

“Mom! What are you doing here?” Y/N gasped out in shock as she saw her mother placing down some food on the table; she was also quick to throw an apologetic look at Ransom. “Well seeing as you’ve never given me a direct answer on whether you’ll be spending Christmas Eve with me and your father, I decided to personally get an answer from you.” The trust fund baby quietly laughed at the exchange between the two women; he never witnessed a banter that was filled with love and genuine wit without disdain or revulsion mixed around in it. “Okay, fine I’ll go!” Y/N sighed up in defeat as her mother clapped her hands excitedly, “Is Ransom coming as well? It’s about time you introduced us to your boyfriend you know!” With widened eyes, the younger woman was at disbelief at the fact she knew the name of her fuck buddy; She wondered about how did Ransom introduce himself he was ahead of her in answering, “We’ve been together for just half a year now; but I guess Y/N was just embarrassed of me.” Flinching as her mother smacked her arm as she scolded about how you shouldn’t be ashamed about the ones we care about Y/N was quick to retort, “I’m not ashamed of you. But if you want you can meet my parents on Christmas.” Both Ransom and her mother were smiling wide — clearly excited for that day. As her mother excused herself to go the bathroom, Y/N was now left with the former playboy and she moved to stand beside him and was pleasantly surprised when he engulfed her in a hug, “Is this your subtle way of telling me you want to be more than friends with benefits?” He smirked at her after placing a kiss on her forehead to confirm that it was indeed what he wanted, “Don’t gloat too much about it, princess.”

[svnflowervol666]

Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Now (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Their first Christmas as a family of four. Underwhelming gifts, naughty kitchen counter shenanigans, being suspicious of Santa Claus, baby kissies, oat milk. 

Author’s Note: Baby bub is here! I’ve been so excited to finally be able to write about them, and I’m even more excited that you all get to read about them! This is the second part of my Christmas bits for this year. Unlike the last one, this one is obnoxiously adorable and no where near as upsetting (I really hurt my own feelings with that one). Reblogs, likes, tags, and feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated! If you don’t see me before the year is up, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! Enjoy, take care, and tpwk.

“Two.”

“No. One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Four.”

“Now that’s just bein’ greedy,” Harry spoke in a wounded tone with his brows furrowed together as if he were genuinely offended.

“But if Santa’s coming tonight and bringing more presents, why can’t I open these ones right now?”

Tallulah was on her knees in front of the sofa, fingers laced together with her chin resting on top of them. She was quite literally begging her father, who sat above her with one leg crossed over the other and an arm slung around his wife, to allow her to open the gifts that were prematurely nestled underneath the festive fir tree in their living room. Well, they weren’t married yet, but Harry couldn’t help that he preferred how the word felt rolling off of his tongue than “fiance.”

��Because they’re Christmas presents,” he stressed.

“Makes no sense t’ open them the day before.”

His freshly six-year-old daughter clearly didn’t like that answer - the pouty jut on her lip and subsequent huff told Harry all he needed to know.

“I already told ya, sweet pea. You can open one tonight. That’s it. The rest are for tomorrow.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the small girl said, although it was implied in her tone that it very much was not.

Tallulah hobbled over to the tree whilst still on her knees, and began riffling through the small litter of perfectly wrapped boxes to inspect which one would elicit the most satisfaction on her end. She seemed keen on a rather large one, decorated with tartan print and a red gift tag that read, “To: Lulah, From: Daddy & Mummy.” What she hadn’t realized, though, was that Harry had already made the selection for her. 

“Not tha’ one,” Harry reprimanded over the steaming mug of coffee in the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles on Y/N’s shoulder.

He typically strayed away from caffeine this late in the evening, but he knew he was in for a long night of waiting up until Tallulah was fast asleep so he could take on the role of Santa and deliver all of the gifts he had promised her for being good enough to make an appearance on the Nice List. Knowing how much shit he had packed in his office that stayed locked this time of year, he really wasn’t sure how he was going to do it successfully.

Another exasperated sigh left his eldest child’s lips, to which she replied, “But this one’s the biggest.”

“But it’s not the one we want yeh t’ open, Lulah. ‘S the one with polar bears on it,” Harry stated, though not with full confidence.

“It is the one with polar bears on it, right?” he whispered to Y/N.

This earned a laugh from Y/N, who muttered a quiet, “Yes,” in return. She laid her head in the crook of Harry’s neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body. He smelled like cinnamon and the nutmeg-flavored coffee beans he’d ground up just a few minutes before, and maybe a hint like baby barf.

Tallulah scavenged the space under the tree like a predator hunting its prey - all on the lookout for the present fitting the description Harry had given her. Harry and Y/N found themselves thoroughly entertained by watching her overturn almost every gift, and shared a similar giggle when she narrowed in on the box in question before letting out a victorious, “Aha!” into the room only lit by a firelog in the chimney.

“Grab the one for Olive too, please. Don’t want her feelin’ left out,” Harry called out to Talulah. 

“Okay, daddy!”

Her small arms stretched to the limit, trying to grab both packages without toppling over onto the others. Tallulah noted that they both felt the exact same underneath the wrapping paper, only her baby sister’s was much smaller than the one addressed to her.

“They feel like clothes,” Tallulah stated matter-of-factly as she took back her place on the floor with both presents in hand.

Harry sighed, leaning down to rest his mug near his feet against the sofa.

“Good grief. Just open it, will yeh?”

She needed no further instruction. Her fingers dug into the paper, piercing it with her nails and ruining the pastel blue parchment that was covered in dozens of cartoon polar bears partaking in various yoga poses. When Tallulah was able to tear the gift away from its wrapping, her hands grasped something soft.

“It’s....pajamas.”

Her tone was flat and unamused. Harry sensed her disappointment, though in his heart he certainly felt like he’d done a great job concocting his plan to have her open this particular gift on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah, but they’re Christmas pajamas. Don’t yeh want t’ look nice when Santa comes to visit tonight?”

This seemed to...disturb Tallulah. That was really the only way to describe how she looked at her dad - with her eyebrows scrunched up and her normally-plush lips pressed together in a thin line.

“...He’s gonna come in my room when I’m sleeping?”

Y/N hadn’t meant to, but a loud cackle erupted from her chest, which jostled the four-month-old baby girl that had the beginnings of sleepiness settling into her body. In contrast to the laugh from Y/N, Olive let out the tiniest of shrills, obviously upset that her mother had interupted the peacefulness she’d felt whilst being curled up against her chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubby,” Y/N cooed quitely, quickly moving to pat her daughter’s bum and comfort her.

“Mummy didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to the sparse tufts of hair atop Olive’s head before returning her attention back to Tallulah.

“Lulah, I promise you that Santa will not come in your room while you’re sleeping. What your dad means,” she snuck a glance in Harry’s direction in which he smirked back at her, “Is that you want to look nice on Christmas morning, don’t you? You know Nana’s gonna take a thousand pictures of you and Olive tomorrow, so now you don’t have to change when she gets here, yeah?”

Tallulah nodded, though it didn’t do much to lift her spirits. She fumbled the cream-colored thermal set adorned with gold stars between her fingers, the motion she was always somehow doing whether it be to her dad’s t-shirt while she laid next to him during a movie, Y/N’s lotus pendant when she was smaller and could fit on her chest, or otherwise.

“Plus,” Y/N added, a hint of irony in her voice, “I’d imagine the presents Santa’s going to bring you are much less boring than this.”

They shared a knowing smile, Tallulah’s cheeks growing rosey and her eyes twinkling at the mention of the magical, bearded man.

“I’m offended,” Harry scoffed.

“Really thought those pajamas were proper cute.”

“They are cute, daddy!” Tallulah chimed in, “I like them a lot. Thank you.”

It appeared that the young girl had realized her moping about not receiving the nail polish kit she’d asked for didn’t do her any good. And whether Harry was joking about being upset or not, she’d never want to hurt her dad’s feelings. He’d raised her too kindly to do otherwise.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Harry smiled at her.

“Let’s help Olive open hers, yeah?”

“I bet it’s pajamas,” Tallulah mumbled under her breath.

That earned her a light tug on one of her two braided plaits on her head from Harry. The two of them chuckled at each other, their faces almost looking like identical portraits of each other.

“Humor me for a second then, Lulah. ‘S your sister’s first Christmas.”

Tallulah scoots over on the floor to stand on her knees, this time by Y/N’s legs as she turned Olive around to sit up straight in her lap. Olive, who was once determined to fall asleep right there on the couch beside her mum and dad, was now awake and had taken an interest in the crinkling sound of the wrapping paper on the gift her big sister placed on top of her chunky thighs.

“Here, Livvy,” Tallulah cooed, “You tear it like this.”

She tried to show Olive how to tear away the present by ripping it halfway open, but her effort proved to be unsuccessful the second Olive managed to get her fingers around a scrap of paper and immediately placed it in her mouth. It appeared that Olive was much more interested in the gift wrap than she was her early Christmas present.

“Well, there goes that,” Harry said as he fetched the then soggy parchment from his infant daughter’s lips, making somewhat of a disgusted face as he wiped the excess drool on the leg of his pants.

Tallulah takes the honor of opening Olive’s present for her, and is unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when her eyes meet a set of thermal pajamas like the ones she’d just received herself, only Olive’s were green with tiny, silver stars. She’d parted her lips to make an undoubtedly flippant comment, but Harry cut her off before she even had the chance to mutter the first syllable.

“Don’t do it, stink head,” Harry quipped, reaching for the discarded paper that was scattered on the rug beneath him so he could put it in the bin later.

“How about you go put on your lovely new pajamas so we can get everything set up f’ Santa to come, alright?”

“Okayyyyyy,” the small girl grumbled before snatching the thermal set from the floor and darting off to her room.

“That didn’t really go the way I hoped,” Harry mumbled as he reached over to take Olive from Y/N.

“It’s Christmas, baby,” Y/N reminded him.

“Kids want toys, not pajamas.”

“Yeah but,” Harry focused his attention at worming the tight-fitting pajamas up his baby girl’s abnormally chubby legs.

“’S what mum used t’ do for us when we were little. Always got pajamas on Christmas Eve. Figured it’d be nice t’ do it for the girls, too.”

“It is sweet, Harry. Just wouldn’t expect a six-year-old to be that enthused about it,” Y/N snickered.

Harry hummed in agreement, his tongue poked out as he fed Olive’s arm into the tight sleeve of her top, struggling a bit to get her balled up fist through the other side.

“Ahh, there we go. Thank god ya only have t’ wear these tomorrow, Chunk. They’ll be too snug by next week.”

“Leave my fat baby alone,” Y/N scolded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being well fed,” she added, leaning over to lightly pinch on her daughter’s round tummy in an attempt to get her to smile at her.

A gummy grin took over Olive’s features at the sight of her mother, a true mummy’s girl at heart. She was much like Tallulah in many ways, but so different at the same time. Olive was still nearly bald, whereas Tallulah’s hair grew like a sprout when she was Olive’s age. Tallulah had always been teeny tiny, no doubt due to her premature birth, and Olive clearly made up in weight for what Tallulah lacked when she was a baby. They both loved cuddles with Harry and listening to the sound of his voice as they fell asleep, but it always puzzled him when Olive didn’t respond to some of his antics in the way that Tallulah had. 

“‘M not bein’ mean. I’d jump on the chance to suck on your tits all day if I could, too.”

“Har-” Y/N began to reprimand him about how she can’t say that because there are little ears in the room, but was stopped short.

“I’m back! Can we set out the cookies now?”

Tallulah breathed heavily as if she just sprinted a marathon into the living room. 

“Sure can,” Harry responded.

“Come tell Livvy good night first, though. Mummy’s gotta feed her and put her t’ bed.”

She smiled at the mention of her little sister, whom she was always keeping at an arm’s reach. If Tallulah was awake, she was in the same room as Olive. It made Harry’s heart ache in the best way to watch the two of them interact with each other. The feeling he felt when he first saw Olive in Tallulah’s arms at the hospital never subsided. He was absolutely besotted for his girls.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite soeur,” Tallulah whispered to Olive, reaching down to hug her sister and kiss the crown of her head, which she happily accepted in the form of weaving her pudgy fingers into Tallulah’s braids and pulling them rather harshly.

Before he handed her off to Y/N to be fed and put down for the night, he gave Olive a kiss of his own.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite chérie.”

//

“‘How do you know Santa likes oat milk? Did he tell you that? Luna at school told me he likes chocolate almond milk.’ What kinda shit is that?!” Harry exclaimed with a mouth full of sugar cookie and in the quietest voice he could muster.

He’d just spent the last hour with Y/N, silently digging Tallulah’s gifts from Santa out of his office and placing them underneath the tree. Thankfully, he hadn’t tripped over his own feet and woken her up or else he would have cried right there on the spot.

All Y/N could do was giggle back at him from where she sat on top of the counter, bare legs swinging as she had a mouthful of the very same oat milk in question swishing in her mouth.

“She’s asking too many questions n’ I don’t like it one bit.”

“Think she’s just growing up, babe. The magic doesn’t last forever. She’s about at that age. Probably only have one or two more Christmases before she figures it out.”

Harry stared at the remaining half of the frosted cookie Tallulah left for Santa in his palm, eyes quiet and sullen.

“Don’t like that one bit, either,” he muttered.

“I know you don’t, bubby,” Y/N cooed, pulling Harry into her so he stood between her parted legs on the countertop.

“But you’ve still got Olive.”

He seemed to perk up at that, looking up at her through thick lashes with a smirk.

“Just Olive? We stoppin’ there?”

“I mean,” Y/N pursed her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind trying for a boy.”

Harry placed his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

“Might not happen on the first go, though,” he tisked.

“Could take havin’ a few more for that t’ happen. Yeh alright with that?”

“As long as you’re not tired of me by then, then sure,” Y/N jested.

“’M never gonna be tired of you.”

He leaned in close to her, touching his forehead to hers. He was a split second away from kissing her, but then Y/N spoke up again.

“Harry,” she called out.

“Hmm,” Harry’s voice oozed with desire and darkness beginning to turn his eyes a deep shade of juniper.

“Can I please have a bite of your cookie?”

He softly bumped his forehead against hers as they both broke out into a fit of chuckles.

“Allumeuse,” Harry uttered, raising the sickeningly sweet cookie to her lips.

She chewed the baked good tantilizingly slow, making a scene of rolling her eyes back and moaning as if the taste was euphoric.

“Tu aimes ça,” she snided.

“Je fais.”

The two sat in silence after that, finishing up what was left of the small plate of sweets Tallulah had left by the chimney. It wasn’t often that the house was this quiet. Normally, there was a crying Olive to attend to or a needy Tallulah begging for one of them to get more paper out of Harry’s office printer so she could draw pictures of the plants in their garden out back. It would have been eerie, had the multi-colored lights from their Christmas tree not illuminated the majority of their open living space. The twinkling bulbs brought a sense of peacefulness about them. Maybe it was the season, or maybe it was because they’d been feeling so grateful for their small family as of late.

“Honey,” Harry broke the silence.

“What?” she looked up from where she’d been fussing with the hem of her shorts decorated with tiny snowflakes.

“Yeh got a little,” he gestured to her mouth before bringing his thumb to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Harry swiped a rogue dollop of blue frosting that rested there and pressed it onto her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his digit, sucking lightly to remove the sticky icing from his skin. Her eyes met his, not once straying as he applied just the slightest bit more of pressure with his thumb. He noted the way her breathing slowed and how she gently shuddered when he tightened the grip of her jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“So pretty,” he purred, marveling at the sight in front of him.

God, how Harry wished it weren’t just his finger resting on the soft, welcoming warmth of her tongue.

Y/N slid off his thumb with a calculated pop of her lips, licking them to ensure she’d rid herself completely of any stray crumbs.

“Kissy?” she posed, smirking.

“I’d be pretty rotten if I said no,” Harry replied before pressing his mouth against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to stand flush against the counter and even closer to her body. He teased her with this tongue, gliding it along the plush skin of the inside of her lip. Y/N welcomed him and parted her lips enough for Harry to get through. Both of them taste the saccharine remnants of the cookies they’d shared, and soon all that’s heard in the house are the suckling noises and heavy pants coming from Harry and Y/N. It’s not loud enough to be a disturbance, but it’s just enough to have them both yearning for more.

“Talk t’ me, lapine,” Harry broke away from her for long enough to mumble one sentence, still pressed against her lips.

“Tell me what yeh want.”

“Want you,” Y/N said in a shaky exhale, chasing Harry’s mouth to reconnect with her own.

“Yeah?” he taunted.

“Want me right here in the kitchen?”

“Ideally, no. But I wouldn’t stop you.”

She parted her legs even wider, attempting to rut against the thick fabric of Harry’s fleece sweatpants. Her center met something stiff and Harry pulled her even closer by the flesh of both bum cheeks, massaging them with his massive palms in a manner that he knew drove her mad.

“That’d be pretty naughty of us, wouldn’t it? Not sure if Santa would approve of that one.”

Before she’s given a chance to respond, Harry snuck his hand between their thighs and began softly petting Y/N over her shorts. Her head fell back in pleasure, temporarily detaching her lips from Harry’s. She knows she can’t make a single sound or else she’ll wake up the entire house so she just sits there with her brows furrowed, silently gasping and letting these sweet, broken moans spill from her throat that spur Harry on even further.

“Can feel you even through your fuckin’ shorts, Y/N,” he grunted, slowing grinding against his own palm that was the only thing separating him from her heat.

This time, it’s Y/N that reached between them, feeling for the stifness that lies between his legs. She wraps her fingers around him through his sweatpants, leisurely tugging at his cock. Harry’s all but forced to begin sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck to keep himself from crying out at the contact, working at blossoming deep lilac and mulberry colored bruises there.

“Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” he muffles into her collarbone.

Y/N hummed, crossing her legs around Harry’s back as he began to focus his attention to rubbing her clit over the material of her shorts.

“Bet you could too,” she whined.

“’S that what you want, hm? Want me t’ make you cum without even touchin’ you right?”

“‘M not gonna have a choice if you don’t do something else pretty soon.”

She sped up the work she’s doing near Harry’s crotch, paying mind to what she can make of his tip between his boxers. With her thumb, she rubbed expert circles around him, massaging him in the way that he’s doing to her. Both of them could feel it, the slow build up of pressure deep in their abdomen - a coil winding tighter and tight with the threat of snapping.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

He was biting her neck now, completely consumed by the feeling of both the damp patch seeping through Y/N’s shorts and onto his fingers and the precum dripping onto her more delicate ones through his sweatpants.

In an attempt to not embarass himself like a horny teenager, Harry withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and places it around her bum all in the same breath. Y/N sighed defeatedly at the loss of friction against the place she needed it most, dropping her head into Harry’s shoulder and whining rather noisily. Before she even has the chance to curse him for stopping, he scooped her off the counter with all of his strength and began walking both of them to their bedroom so he could fuck her properly.

Their lips detach when Harry drops her onto the bed and a woosh of air leaves the down comforter, causing the hem of Y/N’s top to fly up and expose her tummy. She still wore the deep, almost-metallic stretch marks she’d acquired when she was pregnant with Olive, but it wasn’t with shame. Her and Harry had a talk not that long ago about how much he loved them because it reminded him of how much he cherished watching his baby girl grow before she made her grand, earthside appearance. She’d not mentioned the slightest bit of disdain for them after that.

Just as Harry tugged his jumper over his head and threw it off somewhere that he’d worry about in the morning, his eyes caught the digital clock that rested on the wooden night stand on his side of the bed.

“’S past midnight,” he said with a lopsided grin, climbing on top of the girl he vowed to spend his last dying breath beside.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, for the life of her unable to understand why that was relevant when just minutes ago, he was rutting into her hands and aching for release.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled against her lips.

He pulled up once more to add, “Happy Christmas.”

She had half the mind to smack him, but all she did was shake her head and smile.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Will you please fuck me now?”

“Think I can manage that.”

It was the first of many Christmas presents for Y/N.

[chatonne-rousse]

Turtle-y Awesome

@sketchy-panda sent me the following ask last week:

...and this is the story that sprang from that ask. You never know what you're going to get when you share a headcanon with me! 😉

Read it on Ao3 here.

"...et puit, quand il fut bien certain que personne ne pouvait le voir, Benjamin alluma sa veilleuse."

Adrien turns the last worn page and sets the book beside his knee on Hugo's bed.

"What do you think, kitten? Benjamin was turtle-y being a scaredy-cat, wasn't he?"

Hugo giggles, eyes bright. "He's not a cat, Papa, he's a turtle!"

Adrien nods sagely at his son. "Right you are," he says, patting the book's cover. "If this book tortoise anything, it's that Benjamin is definitely a turtle."

The number of turtle puns in the world is finite, and Hugo has heard his dad tell them all repeatedly, but he still laughs every time. The sound is music to Adrien's ears. He grins as he leans down to tuck the duvet around Hugo's shoulders and lifts his son's dark fringe to place a kiss on his forehead.

"Can we read another story, Papa? I'm not even tired."

Hugo's big green eyes scrunch shut as he yawns widely.

"Mmhmm. I can tell. You know what?" Adrien grabs another stuffed turtle from the bookcase and tucks it in beside the Carapace plushie already cradled in Hugo's arms. "Monsieur Vert looks very tired. He was almost sleeping over there! Maybe if you hold him really, really gently, that will help him fall asleep. I'm sure Carapace is tuckered out after a long day of superheroing, too."

"He is," Hugo says, nodding. He strokes his little hand up and over Monsieur Vert's soft shell. "I'll help them, Papa."

Adrien smiles even as his chest squeezes with emotion. "I know you will, my kind-hearted kitten." He can't resist pressing another kiss to Hugo's forehead and delights in receiving a loud, smacking kiss to his own cheek in return.

The turtle lamp on the nightstand is switched off and the Carapace nightlight beside the bookshelf activates, dim light glowing green through the plastic.

"Bonne nuit, ma petite tortue."

He watches his son cuddle his turtle and Carapace close as the closing door slowly eclipses the bed in shadow from the hallway light. Leaving the door open a crack, Adrien listens for a moment as Hugo gets comfortable in his bed.

He smiles as he pads down the hall toward Emma's room to join his wife for another round of goodnight kisses for their precious kittens.

*****

"Kitty, this is getting ridiculous. How is that the only thing he wants for his birthday?" Marinette shakes her head, but her grin betrays her lack of any real annoyance.

Adrien rubs his face and groans. "I know. Believe me, I know. Can you imagine if Nino knew?"

That surprises her. "You haven't told him? I told Alya ages ago when he said Carapace was his favorite." She thinks for a moment. "I don't think I've shared the, um...depth of the obsession, though."

He stares at her, deadpan, before they both laugh.

"Turtles I could handle, Mari. They're cute. They're green." He bats his eyes at her and she swats his arm playfully. "But Carapace? Carapace? When Chat Noir is right there? I don't get it."

"Awww, Chaton. Is my kitty jealous?"

"Of course not," he says, pouting, though he can't keep up the ruse and his smile breaks through. "Okay, maybe a little."

"Nino made a wonderful hero, and is the perfect holder for Wayzz, and you know it."

She scooches closer to him on the sofa and rubs his back gently. His eyes close for just a moment before opening them to find his wife gazing at him with what might just be his favorite look in her eyes - a teasing glint, a touch of heat, and an endless well of love. Everything goes fuzzy momentarily, but he catches her next words clearly.

"Besides, my favorite hero will always be Chat Noir. Always."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

She nods.

Her eyes go wide when he hauls her petite frame from the sofa beside him and settles her across his lap. She laughs as she wraps her arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his lips.

"What a coincidence, My Lady," he murmurs into the whisper of space between them, "because my favorite hero--" He pauses, kissing her again, "is also Chat Noir."

There's a beat of silence and then she's laughing, pressing her face into the crook of his neck to muffle her giggles. His arms tighten around her shaking shoulders as he laughs along with her, swept away by the sweet sound he will always love. There's no joy in the world quite like making his wife laugh.

"You know I'm kidding, Bug," he finally whispers into her hair when their laughter subsides. "Emma and I share a favorite hero. The greatest of all. Prettiest, too. Oh, wow, is she ever beautiful. And strong. And smart."

"Rena Rouge?" Marinette asks cheekily, her nose still pressed to his neck.

"Nooooo," he croons, tickling her sides until she laughs again. "It's Ladybug, jumping above, Lady magique et lady chance!"

"Kitty, no!" she begs through her giggles, "Don't get that in my head!"

"Too late!"

He silences the last of her laughter when he captures her lips with his, twin sighs mingling in the late-night quiet of the living room.

With forever in his arms and their shared future asleep down the hall, Adrien simply loses himself in this blissful moment, forgetting that their baby will turn five next weekend, that the passage of time is as inevitable as the dichotomy of creation and destruction. Wrapped up in his wife, time seems to stop altogether. Marinette - her love, her care, their unshakeable bond - is eternal.

But of course, the clock still ticks. And when they part a few minutes later, after one last kiss and a nuzzle of her nose against his, he still has to ask.

"So we're really throwing Hugo a Carapace-themed birthday party?"

She nods. "Yep."

"And we're buying him the new Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker, complete with Carapace action figure, power-ups, costume changes, a Turtle-mobile sports car that Nino never had, and four different colored shields that he also never had?"

"There's a jet, too, for some reason. But...yep."

Adrien nods slowly, a smile spreading across his face. "He's going to love it."

"Oh, he is," she affirms, her grin matching her husband's. "And so is Uncle Nino."

He snorts a laugh and pulls her close once more, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"This'll be hilarious."

Marinette smiles against his shoulder.

"Yep."

*****

Everything is green.

Their normally colorful apartment seems to have transformed into an emerald dreamscape that doubles as a turtle sanctuary.

Everything is green, and there are turtles everywhere.

Sea turtles, tortoises, turtles of all kinds - including a certain turtle-themed superhero - adorn every surface. Adrien had been surprised by the amount of Carapace party merchandise he was able to find online. He's used to the numerous Carapace items in Hugo's bedroom, pieces he's added to his collection one by one over the past year or so. But this, his best friend's face dangling from streamers, emblazoned on little party hats, is just a little weird.

He's proud, though. A little jealous, a lot amused, and very, very proud. No desperately sad, pitifully lonely teenage boy has ever found a better friend than Nino Lahiffe. He's the brother of his heart, the mellow to his anxious, the staunch protector of their little group of best friends and hero teammates. Adrien has to admit that Hugo has great taste in favorite superheroes.

Someday he'll discover that his idol is also his Uncle Nino, but today is not that day. Today, the magic and wonder still shines in his son's eyes, and it's a beautiful thing.

Adrien putters around the kitchen making last-minute preparations to the food and drink selection, making sure there are plenty of cups and plates (all printed with a Carapace action scene, of course) stacked on the island. Oddly, he couldn't find Carapace napkins to go along with the other paper goods, but Marinette had saved the day by snagging a pack of sea turtle patterned napkins that coordinated perfectly in a pinch.

He smiles at the thought of his resourceful bug, his grin widening as he hears her welcome guests at the door. This is followed by a squeal of glee when Hugo and two of his classmates run off to his bedroom to play. Adrien shakes his head, still smiling. He'll have to lure them out in a bit with snacks and the promise of gifts and cake.

It's not like he doesn't already know from several years of experience that children's birthday parties are mostly adults mingling and intermittently making sure the kids don't get into too much mischief as they play together.

He takes the spinach quiche from the oven where it was warming up and sets it on the table with the other food, rebelliously placing a black potholder with a neon green pawprint pattern under the hot ceramic dish.

A towering, tiered tray of green macarons has pride of place on the dining room table, the top half of each cookie painted to look like a turtle's shell in edible glittering gold. They look almost too pretty to eat, and the same goes for the expertly-decorated turtle cake nearby, made by Hugo's grandparents and brought straight from the bakery for his big day.

The vegetable plate is an array of green, from broccoli to peppers to celery. The party has barely begun, but the celery is already running low, thanks to Emma's clandestine snacking in the hours beforehand.

Everything is green, and Hugo loves it. And that's what it's all about, really.

*****

Adrien is on his way back from checking in on the now half dozen kids playing in Hugo's room when he hears Alya's laughter from the entryway. Clearly she's spotted the party decor. He rounds the corner to find Marinette hugging her best friend, Alya's pregnant belly only getting in the way a bit and not stopping her from throwing her arms around Marinette's shoulders.

"Sorry we're late, Mari," she says, then pitches her voice to a stage whisper. "I had to pee. Twice." She leans back from the hug and cradles her bump. "Actually, I'm just going to..." She points down the hall, and Marinette laughs.

"Go for it, Als. We've all been there."

Nino is still crouched by the door, helping his daughter out of her jacket and shoes. He just shakes his head and laughs. She races off to find her "cousins" and Nino stands, kissing Marinette on each cheek and wrapping Adrien in a hug.

Surveying the apartment over Adrien's shoulder, he claps him on the back and says, "I love what you've done with the place. Very inspired design choice."

Adrien rolls his eyes and all three of them laugh.

"Hugo is obsessed with turtles. You have no idea."

"Oh, I think he has some idea, Minou." Marinette smiles at her husband over her shoulder, linking arms with Alya when she joins them again and ushering her into the green-bedecked living room.

He glances sidelong at Nino with a sheepish grin. "This isn't too weird for you, is it? It was all Hugo's idea. He hasn't stopped talking about his 'Carapace Turtle Party' for weeks," Adrien says, air quotes included.

"Nah, mec, it's cool. Kind of flattering." Nino raises an eyebrow and laughs. "What do you think he'll say when you tell him someday?"

Adrien just shakes his head. "Probably ask if you can adopt him and be his dad instead." His smile is teasing but just a touch rueful.

Nino laughs again. "No way, man. Number one, I've already got enough kids. Number two, you're the best dad. They love you like crazy, bro. Seriously."

His chest fills with warmth. Nino is such an incredible friend. And he's right (about the last bit, at least).

"They're incredible, Nino. Being a dad is..." He trails off, unable to find the words.

"I know, dude." He claps Adrien on the shoulder. "They're a pain in the ass, but they make up for it by being totally awesome."

Nino glances around, finally spotting the table full of green food and turtle-themed treats.

"Wait. Bro. Is that a turtle cake?"

*****

"You know," Nino says a few minutes later, washing down a matcha macaron with a swig of turtle punch, "I could get used to this. It would mess with my head, but after a while--" he looks at the cup with his face on it and shrugs, "it's not so strange. Better than having my face plastered on a billboard outside the Galeries Lafayette."

Adrien groans. "Et tu, Brute? Why would you remind me of that?"

"Because I can." Nino takes another bite of macaron and nudges his best friend's shoulder, laughing.

*****

As the kids snack and carry on, Adrien finally decides it's time to let his best friend see the Carapace shrine that is his son's bedroom.

Nino takes in Hugo's completely green, turtle-filled bedroom as Adrien waits with bated breath beside him for his reaction.

It is, as usual, relatively chill.

"Little dude has good taste!"

"Indeed." Wayzz peeks from Nino's collar with a pleased smile on his face. "The turtle has always symbolized wisdom, strength, and longevity." His tiny smile widens. "I'm also partial to the color green."

Nino steps farther into Hugo's room to examine the bookcase. "I...did not know they made this much Carapace merch."

"Believe me, there's more. We have to draw the line somewhere." Adrien closes his eyes and sighs. "Although he does brush his teeth with a Carapace toothbrush."

Nino's laugh starts as a snort and builds when he spots the Carapace wastebasket beside Hugo's bed and the Carapace plushie propped against his pillow. It turns positively raucous when he sees his best friend's face.

"Holy crap, dude," he wheezes. "This is hilarious. You must be so jealous."

"I am not!"

"You totally are."

"Well--" Adrien sputters, "Marinette is, too!"

"Not as much as you are, Kitty!" she calls from the living room.

Adrien throws his hands in the air. Nino doubles over.

"Chat Noir is cool, too," he mutters, petulant.

A still-laughing Nino pats his arm consolingly. "If it makes you feel any better, Chat Noir is my favorite hero...after Rena Rouge."

That actually does make him feel better, but he's not telling Nino that. Instead, he just grins a sly half-smile at his best friend. "Good save, man."

"Hey, I know which side my bread is buttered on, mec. Don't act like you don't."

Adrien is helpless to the smile that spreads across his face.

Nino groans. "You've been married for seven years, dude. Are you ever not going to go all gooey just thinking about Marinette?"

Adrien quirks an eyebrow and glances sidelong at him. Nino nods once and pats Adrien's shoulder.

"That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"Yep," Marinette says from the hallway behind them.

Adrien's heart beats faster at the twinkle in her eye. He wonders how much she heard. Probably all of it - she always did have sonic hearing, but motherhood seemed to ramp it up to eleven. Not much escapes his wife.

"Time for cake and presents," she announces. "Nino, you can revel in Hugo's Carapace shrine later."

"And I will, don't you worry," Nino says with a laugh as he turns to head back to the party.

Adrien throws an arm over his best friend's shoulder and smiles brightly at Marinette.

Hugo has merch, but Adrien has a real, live Ladybug who promised eternity to her Chat Noir. He holds his own favorite superhero in his arms every night, and nothing, nothing compares to that.

*****

Surrounded by wrapping paper and bows, the birthday boy sits on the floor with one last gift in front of him. The box is taller than he is when seated, and he has to stand up on his knees to tear the paper off the top. As soon as he can see what's inside, he shouts with glee and jumps to his feet. Overjoyed, he scampers around the coffee table to his parents, first thanking Marinette with a hug and kiss, then getting swept up in Adrien's arms for a bear hug.

The fact that Hugo doesn't push away from him to return to his barely-unwrapped gift is not lost on him, nor is the fact that he abandoned it and thought to thank them first in his excitement.

Sometimes Adrien feels like he's been given so much more than he deserves. Marinette alone is a blessing beyond his imagination, but Emma and Hugo, too? It's too much and he knows it, so he holds them close and relishes every single moment like this one with his little boy hugging him tight and murmuring thanks into his neck.

A few minutes later finds Hugo examining every detail of his new treasure (after Adrien wrangled all the parts out of their plastic-encased prison).

He claps his hands when he sees that this set comes with a bonus Chat Noir action figure in addition to Carapace and his shields of many colors.

"Maman!" he cries, jubilant, holding Chat Noir above his head so she can see. "Look! It has Chat Noir! You love Chat Noir!"

Blushing, Marinette pointedly avoids looking in the direction of the two moms of Hugo's school friends who've stayed for the party but smiles widely at her son. "I do. He's my favorite superhero of all time."

Hugo nods, turning to his dad where he sits beside him on the floor, struggling to snip the tiny plastic anchors holding each piece to the cardboard backing.

"See, Papa? He's Carapace's sidekick."

"Hey!" Adrien says indignantly. He looks up from the mess of cardboard and plastic in his lap as Marinette, Alya, and Nino laugh.

Nino, best bro that he is, chimes in. "Nah, little man, Chat Noir is no one's sidekick. He's way too brave and cool for that." He grins at Hugo and points first to the Carapace action figure on the coffee table and then to Chat Noir in his hand. "They're a team. Best friends and superheroes at the same time. That's why they're so awesome."

Hugo looks at the Chat Noir figure for a long moment. "Wow," he breathes. "Chat Noir is as cool as Carapace." He says it like a revelation that's rocked his entire worldview.

Alya sniffles and Marinette hands her a tissue.

"Okay, but Ladybug is still the coolest," Emma pipes up from Hugo's other side.

All the adults besides Marinette nod. Adrien reaches around Hugo to pat Emma's back.

"You're absolutely correct, kitten."

Marinette blushes again and Alya blows her nose.

Hugo tucks Carapace into the driver's seat of the Turtle-mobile with Chat Noir beside him as his passenger, racing the sports car across the rug toward his friends so they can play with his new toys, too.

Adrien looks from his son to his own best friend, and Nino gives him a thumbs up and a grin.

*****

Later, when the dishes are washed and their living room looks slightly less like a turtle habitat, Adrien sits on the sofa with a cup of tea and watches Hugo play with his new, treasured birthday gifts. The Shell-ter Secret Hideout Super Bunker is open, its many accessories strewn around Hugo where he sits cross-legged, Carapace in his left hand and Chat Noir in his right.

"I'll protect you!" "Carapace" cries, Hugo's voice pitched to sound brave and true but still carrying his sweet child's tone.

"Thank you for keeping My Lady safe, Carapace!"

Adrien snorts a surprised laugh into his tea. "Chat Noir" speaks in a husky growl, though Hugo gives him a note of cheery confidence, as though he truly appreciates Carapace's brave deeds, as though Chat Noir can take the decisive cataclysmic swing knowing his beloved partner is safe from harm.

And honestly, Hugo has the right of it. Adrien wonders how his son could possibly know that this exact scene - with slightly different dialogue, of course - played out many times over, years before he was born.

Hugo mimics the sound of an explosion, then an "oof!" as Chat Noir falls to his back but springs up again quickly. Just as Carapace returns to Chat's side with a confident, "What can I do to help save the day, Chat Noir?", Marinette's hands snake around Adrien's shoulders from behind, surprising him.

He sets his mug on a coaster on the end table and wraps his hands around her forearms, pulling her in closer. Leaned over the back of the sofa, she nuzzles his cheek with hers before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I think we pulled off the dream turtle party pretty well, don't you, Chaton?"

"Oh, we turtle-y did."

Adrien delights in the huff of laughter she exhales against his cheek. That might be the most overused pun in the house, but sometimes it still lands just right. They watch Hugo play, matching grins making their cheeks press closer together.

"Looks like that was one shell of a gift, eh?"

He swoons dramatically, his head falling to the back cushion of the sofa so he looks at Marinette upside-down. "My Lady, you know what it does to me when you pun."

"Oh, I do," she says, completely unapologetic, and boops his nose.

He just has to lean up to kiss her because, well, she's so beautiful and he loves her so much and she's right there.

They break apart a moment later when they hear Emma call for Marinette from her bedroom. She plants one last upside-down kiss on his forehead and lets her hands drift slowly across his chest and shoulders as she stands.

She gives him a wry smile. "Duty calls."

"Hmmm," he hums thoughtfully, picking up his tea and taking another sip. "And here I thought her name was Emma."

Marinette groans at him as she walks away, and the sound catches Hugo's attention.

"Papa? Will you play superheroes with me?"

Of course. Always. I will never, ever be too busy for my kittens, he thinks.

"Sure, buddy," he says instead.

Finishing his tea in one big gulp, he slides from the sofa and scampers on hands and knees like a giant cat to where his son is playing. Hugo giggles at his dad's ridiculousness.

Adrien takes stock of the many accessories scattered around the play set and asks, "What are Chat Noir and Carapace up to today?"

Hugo explains the situation, the bad guy's motives, and what the heroes need to do to save Paris from disaster. Adrien listens carefully. Looking up at him with green eyes that match his own, big and wide and crinkled at the corners with his happy smile, Hugo offers the Chat Noir action figure to his dad.

"Will you be Chat Noir, Papa? He's Carapace's best friend in the world and they need to work together to save the day."

Adrien cradles the action figure in one hand and gently pats the pocket where Plagg hides with the other. His kwami presses a paw against his chest in return. Overwhelmed, all he can do is grin at Hugo and try not to cry.

"It would be my greatest honor," he vows grandly, holding up a hand in oath. "I purr-omise to be the best hero I can be. Cat's honor."

Hugo laughs. "You said honor twice."

"So I did. That's because it's very important."

His son nods solemnly, then reaches for Carapace's super jet. He places the hero in the cockpit and flies the jet around his head, making zooming noises.

"Are you ready, Chat Noir? I'm coming to pick you up!"

The jet has only one seat, but that doesn't seem to bother Hugo. Adrien readies the tiny plastic baton in Chat Noir's hand and uses it to vault from his own knee into the imaginary sky over Paris.

"Meow-velous!" he crows, delighted. "This cat is ready to be whiskered away in your very realistic jet! Allons-y, my turtle friend!"

Hugo giggles, Adrien's heart melts, and they set off on a grand adventure together.

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch4

Afternoon Date

It has been a minute, hasn’t it? Sorry for making you guys wait for the next chapter I hope you like this one too. Love the support and the kind comments.

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Marinette and Damian were lucky when it came to their schedules as their classes ended roughly around the same time; making it easier for them to plan their dates during the week so they could get as much time together as possible. The following days after the announcement at Wayne manor the teens spent as much time around each other as they could. Though they did have to sneak around the family for privacy and keep a low profile to not raise any suspicion from the media.

The perks of having a well-known designer as your significant other made it incredibly easy for them to be able to hide in plain sight. Only proven by the fact both were sitting in a small coffee shop enjoying some pastries and hot chocolate as everyone around them was none the wiser of just who was in their presence.

“I’ll never understand how you do it.” Damian chuckled softly as he sipped on his drink looking around the coffee shop as Marinette just giggled.

“You have a very specific style. It's how people pick you out, change the style and they’ll be none the wiser.” she smiled before leaning in to whisper, “average people aren’t that perceptive that’s how heroes like Superman and the Green Arrow can blend in so easily outside of the costume. They don’t see faces, they see the clothing or anything ‘off’ about them.”

“Makes sense,” he nodded relaxing back in the booth wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she settled in sipping on her hot chocolate, “Is that how you figured me out so quickly? You looked at the face, not the clothes?” he hummed rubbing her arm.

“Actually for the first three months all I did was look at the clothes because they are an affront to fashion.” she giggled, “I get that its tradition but did it have to be so garish? Did you have to use the brightest colors for the darkest and gothic city in America? It’s like you want to get shot,” she said rolling her eyes.

“I think it had more to do with Batman wanting to keep track of a small child in dark alleyways, bright colors stand out more.” Damian chuckled.

Marinette hummed seeming to accept that answer as she finished her pastry and hot chocolate. They fell into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s company cuddling together. “It’s getting close to the holidays. Is there anything you or your family want?” she asked.

Damian thought about it for a moment trying to think of anything his family mentioned wanting in the past few weeks. “Hmm, I remember Todd saying something about his leather jacket getting too worn, I think Drake could use a new sweater too. It's looking a bit threadbare. Grayson hasn’t complained about anything specific and since he doesn’t live in the Manor I can’t exactly look through all his clothes. Father and Pennyworth I’m not too sure on.” he said after a long stretch of silence.

“What about you? Anything special you want?” she smiled looking up at him.

“I’ll be happy with whatever it is you choose to give me.” he smiled leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead, “You’re already giving me the best present,” he added, placing a gentle hand over her belly.

Marinette giggled a soft blush settling across her cheeks; “I would have never pegged you as a sappy dad.” she smiled holding his hand over her belly, “It’s so unlike you.”

He shrugged a soft pink dusting his face, “I’m just excited.” he mumbled.

She smiled softly leaning up to kiss his cheek, “I know you are, how about we head out and can go window shopping at a few stores to get an idea of what all we’ll need.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” he nodded, getting out of the booth taking her hand to help her stand. Once she was on her feet he wrapped an arm loosely around her waist and guided her out of the shop and onto the busy street. They steered clear of any overpopulated areas not wanting to risk anyone recognizing Damian, as well as any alleyways not wanting to mugged or jumped.

They took their time making their way to the shopping district talking quietly to each other about their plans for the following weeks. Marinette was slowly losing her mind with her commissions that seemed to get more and more complicated with less and less time between each to finish. Damian was adamant to claim his brothers were driving him up the wall now that they knew about Marinette making his desire to stab them all that stronger. Though he’d never admit he liked that his family welcomed Marinette so readily.

“What are you hoping for?” Marinette asked as they looked in the shop window at some baby clothes. There were an array of items from over the top frilly dresses full of ruffles and lace to make it obvious to anyone that the child wearing it was meant to be a little princess. While on the other side were little onesies with cheesy sayings and cute art printed on them causing the people passing by to coo and laugh at the phrases pointing them out to their friends and partners.

“A healthy child,” Damian said, hugging her gently to his side, “I don’t care about the gender so long as they are healthy and I have you by my side,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her gently on her cheek.

Marinette blushed though and was smiling brightly as she buried her face into his chest breathing deeply as she soaked up all the warmth and love he was showering her in. “I feel the same,” she mumbled before pulling him away from the clothing store to head into a shop to look at other supplies and furniture they’d need.

They lost hours in the department store as they looked over different strollers, beds, changing tables, anything and everything marketed for a baby. They took their time looking it over and comparing the items until they had a solid idea of just what it was they needed. “I want everything to be neutral in color,” she mumbled as they were looking at some toys.

“Hm?” Damian asked, holding up a green rabbit plush testing how soft it was.

“I don’t want anything too gender-specific you know I don’t want everything pink, as much as I love the color or blue. I think it should be a neutral color or a variety of colors so we’re not forcing our kid in just one color.” She said picking up some blankets gently running her fingers over the soft fleece.

“We could always get everything in robin colors.” Damian joked.

“I will divorce you.” Marinette deadpanned looking up at him.

“Ouch okay no robin colors.” he chuckled, setting the toy rabbit down and hugged her, “we have plenty of time to decide on the colors, but I do agree we won’t use pink or blue it’s been overdone quite a bit.” he nodded.

She nodded as they left the baby aisle and started to head towards the front. Once they were back out on the street the sky was beginning to darken quite a bit. “It’s getting late. I should head home and pack, Mum said she’d bring me by the manor after dinner.”

“I’ll walk you home and make sure the room Pennyworth set up is suitable for you.” he nodded guiding her down the street. “Will you be bringing any of your projects along?” he asked as he helped her cross the street.

“I’ll probably bring the quilt I’m working on and the jacket Uncle Jagged commissioned.” she hummed as they made their way towards her apartment. “I’m almost done with the jacket and I want to get a few more squares done on the quilt before Monday,” she added.

He nodded as they fell into a comfortable silence and continued to walk, keeping close to each other so as not to get separated in the crowds. Once they reached Marinette’s apartment building she pulled away and smiled up at Damian, “I’ll see you after dinner have a safe trip home.” she said getting up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

“You have a nice dinner and pack some warm pajamas. The manor can get a bit drafty at night,” he warned, kissing her back. He smiled and waited until she was inside the building and in the elevator to take her to her floor before he turned on his heels and began to head home.

He was only able to pass a few blocks before ducking into an alleyway and crossed his arms waiting as someone landed behind him. “Really? You tailed us the whole time we were out?” he deadpanned turning to face Nightwing.

Nightwing just crossed his arms looking away with a slight pout, “I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” he said, “you were walking around in broad daylight anyone could have seen you two.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t notice you, how would I have explained why a vigilante was following us? When the sun is up leave us alone if she’s out after dark feel free to tail her if she’s not with me.” he said glaring at him, “She doesn’t need the added stress and doesn’t need to be looking over her shoulder every few blocks because she saw someone following her.”

Nightwing sighed rolling his head, “Fine I won’t but I can’t say anything for the others.” he said before sending up a grapple and whisking himself away.

Damian sighed, rubbing his temples, “They’re going to scare her off I just know it.” he muttered heading out of the alleyway and continued his trek home.

~.~.~.~

“Marigold are you ready?” Ivy asked after cleaning up the kitchen from their dinner. She knocked on the door before opening it slowly as she peered in to see Marinette attempting to shove her sewing machine into her bag. “Marigold I think the sewing machine can stay here.” she chuckled walking in grabbing the machine from her hands and set it back on the table.

“I have projects I need to finish though.” Marinette groaned looking at the fabric squares for the quilt and jacket she had packed in another bag.

“You and I both know all that’s left for the jacket is minor touch-ups. You can hand sew it and you’d been hand sewing that quilt all week so you don’t need the machine.” Ivy said leaning on the desk, “Besides you’re going to be with the Wayne’s for the weekend instead of working on your projects why don’t you take a break and get to know them?”

“I just want to finish Uncle Jagged’s jacket. I already closed down the site and won’t be reopening it until new years. I’ll take a break when all my projects are done and have been shipped out.” she said trying to get around Ivy to get the sewing machine.

“Marigold I said no sewing machine.” Ivy said blocking her, “you shouldn’t be carrying it back and forth anyways. I’m sure you just mentioned in passing you needed a sewing machine while in that manor you’ll have one before the end of the day.”

“Mum! That would be manipulative!” Marinette gasped appalled at her mother’s suggestion.

Ivy sighed, gently taking hold of Marinette’s face and leaned down to be eye level with her, “it’s not manipulative. You could just ask Bruce or Damian if they had one if not and you don’t want to use their money then convince Damian to join you to buy yourself a sewing machine that can stay at the manor.” She said gently, kissing her forehead.

Marinette pouted, bowing her head, “so no sewing machine?” she said eyeing the trusty machine she brought from Paris when she moved.

“‘Fraid, not kiddo now finish packing up Harls will be back from walking Bud and Lou any moment then we’re heading over to the manor to drop you off.” Ivy chuckled patting her back as she left the room to let Marinette finish packing for the weekend.

~.~.~.~

The Wayne Manor was in a state of chaos as the occupants prepared for the arrival of their weekend guest. Bruce watched on with a type of exhausted fondness that only a single parent possesses as they watch their children make complete fools of themselves. Beside him was Tim his second youngest who was nursing yet another large mug of coffee the bags under his eyes deeper and darker than the waters of the Mariana Trench. “At least they’re excited?” Bruce muttered watching on as Jason and Dick continued to argue about what they’d learned about Marinette in the last week through means of tailing her and digging up her past.

“They’re going to scare her off.” Damian deadpanned standing beside Bruce on the other side of him watching the two eldest argue looking as if they were going to physically fight.

“No offense but if she didn’t run for the hills after meeting you I think she’ll be able to handle them.” Tim yawned as he took a long drink from his coffee as there was a soft knocking at the door.

Alfred easily walked past the fighting siblings and went right for the front door opening it to reveal the Isley-Quinzels, “Pleasure to see you again Miss. Marinette.” Alfred nodded stepping aside to allow her to enter carrying with her two large bags.

“Sorry to intrude,” Marinette said as Damian rushed overtaking one of her bags off her arm.

“Nonsense you’re always welcome here.” Alfred smiled and looked at the two women, “would you like to come in?”

“Nah we got plans we’ll be back Sunday to pick you up, Marigold.” Harley smiled hugging Marinette, giving her a big kiss on her cheek as Ivy stepped in to give her a kiss and hug goodbye.

“Try to relax this weekend,” Ivy said patting her back, “You lot treat her well or I’ll make you into fertilizer.”

“She’s in good hands Ivy you two have a nice weekend,” Bruce said, nodding his head to the women. Harley and Ivy nodded and blew Marinette a few more kisses before they made their leave after Alfred closed the door.

“I’ll show you to your room Habibti,” Damian said, taking her bags and making a point to ignore his family watching him as he guided Marinette away and up the stairs to the room Alfred prepared for her.

Once they were out of earshot of the rest of the family Marinette looked up at Damian with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not putting me in the room Alfred prepared are you?” she asked following him.

“No, you’ll be in my room so I can keep an eye on you.” He said leaning down to kiss her as he pushed open his bedroom door and carried her bags in. “You need to sleep a reasonable amount and I know you sleep better when you’re warm and this way I can make sure you’re warm.”

“Just say you want to cuddle.” Marinette giggled sitting on his bed as he went about putting her clothes away and setting her sewing projects on his desk. She smiled watching him move with such familiarity as if this was a daily occurrence for them. As she relaxed on the bed a comforting weight settled across her lap. Looking down she saw a tuxedo cat lounging across her legs purring loudly and quite content.

Marinette smiled reaching down and gently started to run her fingers through the fur, “You must be Alfred.” She smiled gently scratching behind the cat's ears. She was so occupied with petting the cat on her lap she barely noticed the weight of another animal climbing onto the bed and curled up behind her. She turned and looked smiling at the large Great Dane she leaned back resting her head on the dog’s side reaching up and started petting him with her free hand, “You must be Titus.” She giggled as Alfred the Cat crawled up to rest on her chest.

Marinette was content to relax on the bed cuddling with the animals when she felt another weight settle on her lap and looked down to see a turkey perched on her legs watching her. “Hello, Jerry.” She giggled, stopping her petting of the cat and dog to reach down and begin gently stroking the turkey’s feathers. She alternated between the three animals trying not to make any feel left out as she pet them soon dozing off from all the warmth and comfort the animals provided.

Damian found her passed out on his bed, one hand resting on Jerry’s back and the other reaching back to scratch Titus’ ears. He huffed out a soft laugh looking over the scene before pulling his phone out quickly taking a picture before shooing Jerry and Alfred off her so he could get her in bed and into a more comfortable position. “Good job everyone,” he whispered to his pets as he took her boots off and gently took her hair out of her pigtails before tucking her into bed.

Once she was comfortably curled up under the blankets he pulled back and laid out some pajamas on the nightstand closest to Marinette in case she woke up long enough to change and set about getting into his pajamas and turned off all the lights before climbing into bed and pulled her to his chest relaxing back. “Good night habibti.” He mumbled, kissing her forehead.

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@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm  @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth

[dibs4ever]

Family photo

17-year-old Barbara Gordon was practically skipping up the steps of Wayne manor. Too excited to contain herself over what she held in her hands

Giving the door two knocks and only waiting 5 seconds when Alfred opened it

“Ms. Gordon, you and Master Dick have been walking to school together for 6 months now. I told you to just come in.”

She smiled, stepping into the manor “Sorry Alfie, my dad taught me to always knock, guess it’s a habit” she shrugged

Alfred nodded

“Where is the Boy Wonder?” She asked glancing around the foyer for her friend

Alfred sighed “It seems the young lad is tired and sluggish this morning after last night's patrol. He is still sleeping in his bed. I have been trying to wake him for 30 minutes. Perhaps you may have better luck?”

Barbara nodded “I have something to show him anyways.” She began up the stairs

“And Ms.Gordon,” Alfred spoke

Barbara nodded, continuing up the stairs “I know, I know-keep the door open.” Not like Alfred had anything to worry about. Furthest they’d ever gone was kissing. Once on a dare at his birthday party than a few weeks back for an undercover mission

She reached Dick’s bedroom door and smiled at the lump in the bed. There Dick lay, face down in his pillow, the blanket covering only the left side of his body. Dressed in only his white boxers with red polka dots.

She strutting into the room, clutching the paper in her hand. “Grayson get up” she sat on the side of the bed and patted his butt “Come on up and at em” she repeated resting a hand on his muscular calf

He let out a grunt

Barbara smiled but rolled her eyes, sitting on her knees she leaned forward so her face was next to his. His eyes still closed. If she didn’t know any better she’d think he was still fast asleep

“Dick wakes up I have-“

She was cut off when Dick used his arm to pull her down, so she was laying next to him. Pulling her flush against him, hugging her tightly “You are such a cuddle bug when you’re tired” she mumbled into his chest, his body heat radiating off of him to her

He nodded, nuzzling his head into her neck

She could feel light butterfly kisses from his eyelashes grazing her skin. Creating butterflies of her own in the pit of her belly. Lately, the Boy Wonder had been having that effect on her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She definitely wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Dick comes on- we’ll be late for school and like I said I want to show you something I found.” She patted his back encouraging him to move

He did, but not to get up. Shifting himself so she was lying on the mattress and he was hovering over her. Leaning on his elbows to keep a respectable distance, his dark locks hanging messily around his face, almost like a small curtain, she noted. He was awake now. She knew because his bright blue eyes bore into her green ones and he was giving her that goofy smirk that could make her say yes to anything.

“Hey” he whispered huskily, his throat dry from sleep

She smiled up at him “Hey” she spoke softly. Those Damn butterfly’s coming to her throat. She had decided to just attribute these new feelings to teenage hormones and NOT to Dick. There was no way he felt the same, besides. They were friends and she was finally starting to gain Batman’s trust as a vigilante. How bad would it look if she made a move on him?

“Whatcha got to show me Babsy that’s got you so excited on a Tuesday?” Dick reached down tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

She lifted her arm and passed the photo she’d printed to him.

Dick looked at it and sat up once he realized who it was off, Barbara followed in suit, both sitting side by side on the edge of his bed.

“Babs, where did you find this?” He practically gasped

She smiled “I’ve been doing archival research of newspapers in my free time”

Dick looked toward her “For me?”

Barbara shrugged “Ever since we did that genetics assignment in Chem class a few months ago and you told me the only photo you had of your parents was that faded wedding picture and that there are no pictures of you before you were 8 I got to thinking there had to be at least one more published by a newspaper. I mean you guys traveled to so many different cities ya know.”

Dick nodded still in astonishment of the photo

He placed a finger over them then read the newspapers caption out loud

“Haley’s circus was in town this weekend. Among the many acts, one crowd favorite was the Acrobats. The famous flying Grayson’s. Here they are pictured above with their 8-month-old son Richard. Who travels with them. “

She smiled “You were such a cute baby.”

He grinned “I guess I was Huh?” He looked up from the photo

“Babs this is amazing not only do I have a better picture of my parents I have a photo of me as a baby to show my- I mean I well “

“Future kids? If we don’t get killed or become infertile from injuries before that ?”

Dick nodded “and given I find a partner willing to have babies with a vigilante.”

She laughed lightly “That’s true”

Dick was looking back at the photo again “Babs I’m taken back I could kiss you right now.” He paused “I didn’t mean to say that, I’m so focused on this beautiful family picture you found it just -Thank you so much for doing this for me”

Barbara leaned over placing a peck on his cheek “Your welcome Grayson”

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine - Last Mother’s Day as a Family of Four

A/N Also thank you to the anon that sent in a request for a abm mother’s day special! I know I didn’t get a reply back about specific ideas but I hope this suffices! 💟

Sunday, May 12, 2024

One of Daniel’s favourite days was Mother’s Day because it was his perfect excuse to spoil his wife. Not that he ever needed an excuse. It was the one day a year he could flaunt everything about her and the beautiful body and soul that gave him his two children…and the one that was working hard to grow their third.

It was early morning and Daniel woke up easily at dawn, shifting under the warm sheets of the king size bed and cuddled right up behind his wife. She sighed sleepily and he leaned up to press a few gentle kisses over her neck and shoulder, his hand draped around her waist. Florence shifted at his obvious presence and smiled lazily as he kissed her cheek, her eyes still closed peacefully.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Daniel said softly.

Florence hummed in sleepy reply and set her hand over his to link their fingers together and pulled his arm farther around her body as if to urge him to cuddle her back to sleep.

Daniel only chuckled lightly, continuing his lazy kisses over her shoulder and up her neck, wiggling his hand from hers to rub loving circles over her swollen belly as he whispered against her neck, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.”

Florence giggled quietly and opened her eyes as she glanced at him over her shoulder, “Thank you, Dani.”

They shared small smiles and he leaned down to kiss her lips a few times, savouring the warm familiarity of her touch. Her hand skimmed his cheek as he pulled back and tossed the sheets off his body.

“Get some more rest.” he instructed gently as he pulled his shirt from the chair in the corner and put it on, “I’ll be back with your first surprise.”

“You better not have outdone yourself today.” Florence warned, tucking her arm under her head as she watched him shuffle on a pair of sweatpants from the closet.

Daniel only sent her a small smirk, “I never outdo myself.”

“Daniel James-”

He hushed her with a kiss, lingering on her lips for a while until he was sure she’d stay quiet and then left one to her belly before looking back at her face, “The girls will be very sad if they see you awake. I promised I would let them wake you up but I couldn’t wait. Humour me?”

“I’m the best fake sleeper you’ve ever known.” Florence promised.

He left her with one more kiss and then left the room, closing the door behind him. His next stop was the girls’ room and he let himself in to find them each sitting up on their beds waiting for him. Clementine and Penelope beamed at the sight of him and each rushed over to wish him good morning and he crouched down to shower them in kisses and hugs.

“Ready to surprise Mommy today?” Daniel asked them, holding each of the girls’ sweet faces in his hands. They nodded with wide smiles. “Alright. To the kitchen.”

Daniel was in charge of breakfast and he tried his luck at pancakes (with a mix from a box) and bacon. Clementine and Penelope each munched their small bowls of fruit as they practiced their plans for their Mother’s Day gifts. Being in kindergarten, Clementine had a few little surprises that they made at school but Penelope was still small so Daniel helped her out with a little something for her to give too. Both girls were very excited.

“Daddy.” Clementine rushed over to him in the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his leg, “Are you done yet?”

“Almost, angel.”

“Mommy’s gonna wake up before we can go in.” the five-year-old protested, tugging at his pants until he nearly had to grab the waistband to keep them from being tugged completely off.

Daniel pried her small hands away and gently steered her back towards the table so he could finish setting up the tray with the breakfast, “She won’t be awake before us, don’t worry.”

With the pancakes drizzled in the perfect amount of syrup and topped with whipped cream and a cut up strawberry arranged in a heart shape, and the bacon set neatly on the plate beside a warm mug of tea, they were ready to go in.

“Get your presents.” Daniel reminded them quietly and the girls grabbed their little gifts from the table before taking off down the hallway.

He followed behind them quickly, making sure not to spill anything, and Clementine reached up to open the door and let them in. The girls ran giggling over to the bedside and Florence took all her self-control not to smile as her daughters gently nudged her awake.

“Wakey wakey, Mama.” Clementine called sweetly, shaking her shoulder a little.

Florence did her best fake-wake-up with a yawn and a stretch included and everything and Daniel smiled to himself as the girls beamed at the fact they got to wake her up with surprises. He balanced the tray in one hand as he pulled open the curtains to brighten up the room and the girls climbed up onto the bed.

“How’s baby sister?” Clementine asked quickly, reaching out with her hand that wasn’t holding her present to set on Florence’s stomach.

“She was nice and quiet last night.” Florence said. “Come kiss me good morning, sweet girls.”

Clementine leaned in with little puckered lips to kiss her mother and Penelope giggled as she crawled over to do the same. Daniel brought over the tray and set it proudly on the bed and the girls stared expectantly at their mother for her reaction.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Florence smiled, glancing up at Daniel, “Thank you.”

He leaned down to kiss her again and the girls only beamed at their parents.

“Mommy! Mommy! Can I give you your present?” Clementine asked loudly, sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed with the paper clutched in her two hands.

“Yes, of course, Clemmie.” Florence smiled, petting a hand through Penelope’s hair as the younger of the two girls sat quietly beside her sister. Daniel sat down with them and busied himself with cutting up the pancakes and feeding a piece to his wife who was busy with her two hands resting on her large belly.

“I made this in school.” Clementine explained. She shoved the paper into Florence’s hands.

It was a little worksheet titled ‘All About My Mommy’ in kindergarten lettering at the top and fill in the blanks for the kids to do. In the centre was a basic outline of a person and Clementine coloured it as if to make it resemble Florence herself down to her blonde hair (coloured in yellow crayon) and her blue eyes and red dress.

“Oh, how beautiful. That looks just like me.” Florence praised her eldest who just beamed in pride.

Daniel shuffled closer to look over her shoulder as Florence read each entry.

“‘My mommy’s name is sweetheart’” she glanced over at Daniel who only smiled and gave her a sweet shrug. She continued reading, “‘My mommy is 35 years old’ Do I look that old to you?”

“Yes. You’re a grown up.”

“I’m just barely 24, darling girl.” Florence laughed lightly.

“That’s close.” Clementine shrugged as she shuffled closer to push the paper closer to her as Daniel fed her another bite of pancake. “Keep going.”

“‘My mommy is really good at reading stories’” “My mommy always says I love you’” “My mommy is most happy when daddy comes home from work’”

Florence’s voice broke a little – those darn pregnancy hormones – and she looked over at Daniel. He only pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then rested his cheek to the same spot. She leaned her head on his and continued reading Clementine’s scribbly little handwriting.

“‘My mommy likes to take me to the park’” “‘I love my mommy because she is the best mommy in the world’”

Florence pouted sweetly and looked over at Clementine’s grinning face, “Thank yo-”

“I’m not done!” Clementine said loudly, scrambling to stand up on the bed. Daniel reached out quickly to steady her. “I have a song too!”

“A song?” Florence questioned. “Let’s hear it.”

“I love Mommy, I love Mommy, yes I do. Yes I do. Mommy’s are for hugging. Mommy’s are for kissing. I love you. I love you.” (A/N To the tune of frere jacques if you know it lol)

Florence’s heart sored with nothing but pride at her firstborn’s little song and the adorableness that seemed to radiate off the five-year-old, “Darling Clementine, you are so, so, so sweet. Thank you.”

Clementine sat back down on the bed proudly.

“Okay, bug,” Daniel looked over at Penelope, “your turn.”

The nearly-four-year-old smiled shyly and Florence patted the bed beside her to invite her to come closer. She crawled over and Florence tucked an arm around her as she held out the drawing in her hand. It was a scribbly little crayon drawing of their family but it was near perfection for the mother and she pressed a kiss to her youngest’s messy brown hair.

“Tell me what you drew me, Penny.”

“Me,” Penelope pointed to the smallest of the stick figures. “Clemmie,” she pointed to the slightly taller one with blonde hair beside her own. “Dada,” she pointed to the next one with short brown hair that had a few yellow scribbles on top too. “And you,” she pointed to the last little person who looked much larger than the rest.

“Why am I so big, sweet girl?” Florence asked.

“Because.” Penelope said, pointing with a tiny finger to the middle of stick-figure Florence’s body. “There’s baby sister in your tummy.”

Sure enough, there was a few little lines inside her triangle-dress that could resemble a baby if you squinted. Florence’s eyes welled with tears again and she hid her emotions behind a kiss to her youngest daughter’s head.

“And flowers.” Penelope continued, pointing to the pink and purple scribbles along the single green line at the bottom of the page.

“And what did you write for Mommy on the back?” Daniel asked.

Penelope turned over the paper to show her (very messy) printing of her name. It was missing a letter or two but the effort was there.

“Dada helped with letters.” Penelope whispered shyly.

“Wow. You are quite the speller, missy.” Florence whispered in near awe. Penelope shoved the paper into her hands and then wiggled out of her arm. “Well, thank you so much, my girls.”

There was a duet of “you’re welcome, Mama” from the girls and Penelope crawled over Daniel’s legs to grab the TV remote from the bedside table.

“Does Blue’s Clues with breakfast sound good, sweetheart?” Daniel asked the woman of the hour.

“Always.” Florence agreed.

She ate her breakfast with her daughters on either side of her and her husband’s arm around her shoulders and her unborn baby wiggling away inside her as if to say don’t forget about me. Florence could never forget about her. She may only have had three people earthside with her so far but she already had four loves of her life.

After breakfast, Daniel cleared the dishes and helped the girls get dressed as Florence got herself ready for the day and whatever he had planned. She then sat in the living room with the girls as Daniel got showered and dressed quickly into a soft green springtime outfit. His phone dinged on the bathroom counter that there was a delivery at the front desk and he finished brushing his teeth to hurry and retrieve it.

He returned quickly from the lobby to his girls in the living room, a bouquet of two dozen purple tulips held in hand. Florence beamed at him as he passed it over to her to look at.

“For me?” she asked as she smelt them.

“Who else?” Daniel chuckled.

“Thank you, baby. They’re beautiful.”

Roses for Valentine’s Day, tulips for Mother’s Day. The usual routine. Florence and Daniel didn’t buy each other gifts really, but Daniel always made a point to buy her flowers. Flowers for his Flora.

He took them to the kitchen to cut them up for her and put them in a vase and set them on the coffee table where they could get the most sunlight and where she could enjoy them. He sat down beside her and she cuddled up close as they watched their two little girls play together on the rug. Florence sighed peacefully and rested her head on his shoulder and Daniel leaned his head on hers, one arm around her shoulders and his other hand resting on the squirmy baby growing inside her.

It was sunny that morning and the apartment was filled with bright sunlight through the floor to ceiling windows and livened up the air with springtime freshness. It was calm and beautiful and home.

Daniel glanced at his wife’s face as she stared across the room at their two daughters playing nearby. She had a small smile on her face and cheeks rosy with love. With his arm that was around her shoulders, Daniel gently stroked her face and Florence glanced up at him.

“You are…the love of my life.” he whispered.

“And you’re mine.” Florence agreed softly, brushing her nose against his in their close proximity.

“Can’t be anyone else in the whole world I would rather have by my side for life…no one else I’d want to mother my children…no one else I’d rather wake up every day to.”

“Daniel.” Florence breathed.

“Being able to have children with you is my greatest blessing.”

“Daniel James, stop it or I’ll cry.” Florence giggled lightly.

“I mean it.” Daniel smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you more than life itself.”

Florence leaned her head back against his arm and he dipped down to kiss her lips. He lingered there a while, savouring each long chasté kiss and gentle touch of his wife between their soft ‘I love you’s. Their soft kiss only broke when she groaned sharply and looked down to her round belly.

“Baby girl kicked me in the ribs.” Florence whispered.

“Baby girl wants kisses too.” Daniel tisked, leaning down to kiss over the curve of his wife’s pregnant body, smiling as he felt the little movements under her skin. “Tiny dancer is up and ready to play.”

Florence got another jab and she wiggled her fingers against the top of her stomach, “Move down, baby, you’re hurting me.”

“Is baby sister awake?” Clementine asked eagerly from the floor.

“She’s very awake.” Florence said.

The two girls hopped up and hurried over to set their hands on their mother’s round stomach to feel the little kicks from their baby sister. Florence only smiled widely at her daughters and their faces of awe as they felt the movements and Penelope leaned in to kiss her belly just like Daniel did.

“Baby sister wants to celebrate Mommy’s day too.” Clementine giggled, patting her hand gently to the top of the baby bump. She cooed to her softly and Florence and Daniel laughed quietly, leaning their heads together on the couch, wrapped up close, and completely in love with each other and their three perfect girls.

[montmartre-parapluie]

Maya, 1700s Mode: Remodel of a Felicity “Meet” Gown!

Hello again! We only have one dress to look at on the historical-mini-gown extravaganza today - but this was a really interesting one for me!

Now, back when I first discovered what I’d missed out on as a British child with American Girl, my absolute first love was Felicity and her original Rose Garden ‘Meet’ dress. You know, this one:

Seriously, 8 year old would have sold her kidneys, baby sister, and possibly her SOUL for Felicity and all her historical goodies. That was just how little M-P rolled. And that chintz is a lovely 18th century print! But I was just a few years too late to that party.

But then my mum caught the AG bug and started collecting. In her wanderings, she found a reasonably priced Felicity clothes bundle! The seller photo was fuzzy, but worth a punt - she bid, and won it...

Only then we found out the dresses in it were... messy . Some just needed a wash, but there was an ugly brown stain across the back of the ‘meet’ dress that hadn’t shown up in the Ebay pictures- and all the washing and careful treatment in the world wasn’t going to make it salvageable for any AG doll! 

But I’d coveted the lovely look of that gown and that fabric for YEARS. I couldn’t just let her throw the meet dress away...What to do?

But then I looked at the  smaller, slimmer frame of my A Girl for All Time dolls... and my brain went “zing”!

If it’s too damaged for Felicity - how about reworking it for someone else? There was enough fabric in there if I was careful and did some piecing....

 This was before the AGAT company released Elinor the historical redhead, so alas, there was no pseudo-Felicity. 

(Sorry Elinor, you’d have been almost perfect as a Felicity!)

But I’d recently bought Maya, and I wasn’t really feeling her dungarees much... 

Historical makeover for you, my girl!

So, well.... THIS happened...

I had enough in the meet dress that I got bold enough to play around, and made Felicity’s dress into an honest-to-goodness open robe for Maya, in the style of Felicity’s Christmas Dress!  (you may notice she’s “borrowed” Felicity’s lappet nightcap for this photoshoot)

I’m not going to lie - this was hard; harder even than making actual stuff for me, because I got so nervous about making mistakes with the tiny amount of fabric I had. There wasn’t extra if I cut it wrong! But luckily for me it worked out. And I had the bonus “historical” experience of having to rework an existing item of clothing without wasting fabric, something many seamstresses in the past had to do with what was available in their closets!

 I had to piece the bottom petticoat beneath - that’s mostly plain white cotton with a tiny strip of the “Meet” fabric sewn in to make it look like a full underskirt.  I made a stiff stomacher for her out of cardboard (full disclosure: I cut a triangle out of a kleenex box! ) and covered it with a scrap of the fabric, giving it a little centre bow out of rose pink silk for compliment the flower print in her frock. 

I took in the sleeves and saved the little strips of fabric I took out of them to make the robings (the green ribbon-edged pieces on the sides of the gown bodice) They went very nicely together. There’s some hidden snaps under the robings for getting in/out of the gown, and it suited Maya like a dream!  

It also, weirdly, gave me the confidence for doing it large scale with my green robe anglaise. I’d long wanted to improve it, but I didn’t have the confidence to start. Practicing on a smaller model showed me I could do it if I was careful and planned it out. 

And, just for fun - Maya looks to be having no end of fun taking tea with Matilda and Beatrice (another doll I should introduce sometime...)

[melancholic-pigeon]

Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?

SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.

Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.

Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side. 

I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.

love you to the moon and back.

-J. ❤

Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.

(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)

Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity. 

Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade. 

He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.

It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.

"My other half says hello."

There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.

"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?" 

Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated. 

"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you." 

She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is. 

"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope." 

"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated." 

"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"

Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression, 

"He really does, doesn't he?"

Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself. 

His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.

"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."

He knows that feeling too. 

Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there. 

"You too, Mama." 

She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.

She's smiling, too. 

She smiles a lot, these days.

—

In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding. 

Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands. 

"Decorative. Sure." 

"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked." 

"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."

"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."

"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD." 

"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?" 

"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah." 

Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling. 

Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen. 

"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.

"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy." 

Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question. 

Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose. 

"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."

She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it. 

"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?" 

"See!"

"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."

His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties. 

"I know exactly where I'm going to put it." 

Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study. 

There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins. 

"I'll hang it up for you later."

She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.

Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.

It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.

It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.

"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."

"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.

"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."

"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.

"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit." 

"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen. 

It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.

Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading. 

"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers. 

"He's always welcome for a rain check."

"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling. 

Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time. 

"More bird!"

"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."

They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.

Percy's eyes sting. 

For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead. 

She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place. 

He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response. 

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them. 

"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey." 

Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all. 

When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it. 

Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.

"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything." 

"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.

It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive. 

-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby"-part V

Tw⚠️: swearing, angsty vibes ( I think)

Your body moved in distress, turning the sheets all over as you left out a gasp of terror, your face clenching in pain. You have a nightmare, a usual occurrence that happens when you are stressed. Having such a big imagination, your dreams/ nightmares came vividly, with excruciating details. You could see them in colour however the images were blurry, hazy almost.

This nightmare was about Fatima, the sketch artist from up top. She was a senior here and usually the person in this block turned for guidance, relief and peace. She was from the South part of Sudan, fact that she lets it known by her traditional style fashion, her food and her drinks and the occasionally loud conversations she has with her folks back home. A peaceful artist with beautiful brown skin with yellow undertones, an oval face with a big smile plastered on it and shinning black orbs. An angel in disguise that you often seek when the world proved too much for you. Fatima never really showed her own worries and fears but you were one of the privileged few who did see her at her lowest, an experience that motivated you , scared you and hurt you. The amount of times your heart clenched those times matched with how many tears left her orbs.

You were ejected vertically on your bottom as your mouth left a silent scream, tears dropping from your eyes but you didn't have time to think it over since loud noises came from upstairs,Fatima's room. In your paranoid state you didn't question the musicality of the sounds ,chosing to ran out the door ,slapping it shut and jumping two steps each time till you reached her door.

Fatima was enjoying her second favourite types of music, Afro-Latina songs when a storms of pounds hit her door. Confused and terrified, she grabbed the nearby mop before she opened the door. It was just you.

You stood there in black shorts made from former leggings to long for your short legs, white ripped shirt stained with old paint from when you helped her renovate and messy long hair and tear filled puffy eyes.

"Y/n! My girl ,what happened?"

There she was, with a long white fit dress that ended in a curve at the start of her feet and silver grey hijab wrapped around her head. She look energised despite being 5 in the mornina Most importantly she was Most importantly, she was safe, unharmed and happy.

Your noise picked up the aroma of her handmade mix of tea that filled the textile of her dressing where now your head rest as your body convulse in a breakdown again. Shocked and confused, she wasn't stopped however from showing you the comfort your soul may need.

She caressed your long hair and rubbed your back as you two sat on the white tiles of the entrance. The door long close by her other roommate, Catherine Blank - a 26 years old from Dublin.

On Fatima's commends, the red haired freckled woman brought you a knitted blanket and a cup of water. Her hands found their way on your cheeks when you finally calmed down,rubbing them on your wet skin as you drank the water. Your eyes fell down in shame for disturbing them.

You didn't know why it happened. Just two hours ago you finished talking with Corpse and went over your notes one last time.

You seemed fine, too busy for any bad thoughts to bug you or anything such as. Yet here you are.

"Jesus ,girl. You scared us." Came the heavy accent voice of Catherine.

You looked at her standing in black leggings and a black top, skinny hands on round hips and a scowl of worry on her square face. Green eyes softening when they met yours.

"I..um..."

"You don't have to tell us right now, sweet girl. Come, let's enjoy each other with some select songs."

You all three burst in laughter at the ridiculous pompous tonality Fatima chose to express herself with.

You followed, grasping the extended hand of Catherine as Fatima rearrange the blanket around your tattoos covered body.

————————————————————

It was morning when you finally return back into your apartment. The door closed itself with a heavy thud that resonated within the insides of your shaky lungs. You calmed down significantly since that explosive outburst of fears and terrors.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin. You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin.

You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

Your soul long desired the touch of another: to be grasp tightly and lovely by their hands, to be enveloped in their smell as they whisper sweet nothings into your ears, to have their warmth dry your tears, to bring comfort to your pain. You resigned years ago that you were never meant to experience this sessions, merely observed them. But your heart craved them and craving it did, as you watched in fake disgust the romantic displays in Ace's romances.

Right now, after crying your eyes out, your burns needed that comfort, needed that care and love but again you were denied of them, you can only thank yourself for that.

The cup was slapped in foolish fury as you tossed some hot water in it. The tea bag falling towards the end of the cup.

Three knocks were heard at the door and you curiously turned, cup left forgotten.

Opening the door, Omar was standing there with a little albino boy with clear big blue eyes and curly locks. He was wearing a red blue and white checkered shirt with beige church pants. He smelled nice ,his cologne hitting your your long narrow nose immediately after opening the door.

You raised a brow as he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

Then silence.

You continued drinking your tea,staring at the man who finally realised that you didn't know the motive of his visit.

"Alma didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"She said you agreed to watch over Tj today."

Wait.

Your panicked grew was your eyes turned to the calendar to the right of you. There in bold yellow numbers the day of 5th November was left clear with the exception of being circled over with a gold marker.

"Shit ,it was today? I mean ...fuck. Sorry, Omar. It totally slip my mind."

The man laughed ,his brown eyes were warm and forgiving, no offense taken by your skip of mind.

"It's fine,Y/n. So it's alright if I leave this little guy with you for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah. But I don't have-"

As Omar entered the hallway, a grey bag you previously not seen was by the door , you picked it up before going to the living room.

He sat the kid dressed in a sailor white and navy blue stripped t-shirt and light grey sweatpants on one of the sit of your 1970s floral printed sectional sofa.

The kid was making sounds and hand gestures ,wanting to be picked up again by his father who was busy speaking with the 159cm tall woman.

"Tj here is a big of a love bug, get him to like you and you can't go anywhere anymore. Just like his mother I suppose. "

"Does he have any..um..food preference I should know about?"

"Um...Wait, Alma left you a notebook, ah well not you but me. Here ,it should have anything you will need. Again,thank you so much for doing this Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." You said ,flipped the pages of the hard back notebook. Luckily Alma had a neat writing.

"Well, I need to go now. Be nice, little guy. "

Omar bent down to kiss his son's forehead, a sign of goodbye. The child stared at his father with a confuse look as he bubbled nonsense. His tiny hand reaching for the leaving figure.

Omar left soon after ,waving bye-bye to his son and almost kissing your forehead as a habit he picked up since he got together with Alma, their form of goodbye.

You stood there, staring at each other as the kid started to laugh and throw his toy at you. You caught it, he will throw it again and so forth.

You were tired however and knew the boy with too much energy will not be easily manipulated into sleeping. Opening the TV to the kid's cartoon channel , you settled on the opposite couch ,eyes falling victim to tiredness.

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You must have been asleep 2 hours and so begore the loud crys woke you up.

Crys? Shittt! The kid.

Shooting out of your crouched position, you ignore the stirring pain of your sudden movement. Your legs' thud brought the attention of the crying mop of hair.

A wrenches smell filled your nostrils as your dread grew when you realised where its source came from. Looks like it's time to change a diaper. Oh ,man!

With a mask over your nose, hair tied behind your back and gloves you started changing the boy in the bathroom, you cleaned and washed him and brought him back on the layed blanket on the couch. Your disgust grew as you cleaned the sink and disinfect it.

You groaned as you threw your equipment in the bin, a bing didn't let your stomach cringe at the memory of the smell. It was a message from Corpse.

'Hey :)'

You smiled, quickly texting him back.

'Hey!"

'Up to play something today?'

'A new stream? You just finished one tomorrow, I don't want you to burn yourself out.'

'<3 But no, I mean to play together in private, just the two of us.'

You wanted to text him back, teasing him with the proposition of a date but the sounds of broking glass was heard from the living room.

With a scream , you quickly typed out :' Cant baby in troble.!'

The kid was fine thankfully , grinning and laughing at your panicked state. What was not fine was the white porcelain vase with blue florals Sabrina brought for her collection. She wouldn't be mad per say but she wouldn't be happy either.

The kid ,now standing to ran around the room ,using the coffee table to his advantage, your legs screaming from the workout. Luckily the broken vase was behind you away from the child.

Unfortunately, your phone started to ring. Who the fuck would call me now? Oh! It's Corpse. Wait..Corpse!

"H-hey Corpse ! What are you - come here you little block of swiss cheese."

The man laughed as the phone's speaker vibrated on your right ear where you lodged it.

Tj laughed innocently as you grabbed him and hold him to your left hip. Your hair,nerves and mood all a mess.

"A-Are you okay?" Corpse asked after recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Me? Oh ,sure. I have a gremlin here who's more trouble than his worth. Hey! Stop that!"

The happy face of Tj turned in a cringy crying one as he wailed. Apparently you wanting to stop him chewing on your white banda, tightly nicely on the top of your head ,was too much.

"Sounds like trouble. By the way, you called me?"

"I did?"

Your eyebrows clenched as you look at your calls history,you did actually. The icon of the call must have been press on accident or that it was a sign from the universe that you are in dire need of assistance.

"Y-yeah. Look, Corpse l-I gotta go. I will call you-"

And you stopped, your breath becoming more fast as your nose flared.

"Um ghost? Are you...Are you there?"

"Stay on the line,Corpse. This kid just pissed on me."

With that another wave of laughter hit the man as he thrown himself into the chair.

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Finally, you changed the damn brat after cleaning him again and taking a shower yourself. You left a breath as you watched the chil playing with his blue rocket toy.

"Babysitting is much harder than the films makes it out to be." You grumbled, pouting as you listened to Corpse's chuckles.

They managed to calm you enough to turn the intimidating glare you had plastered all over your face into a more stern one.

Your body dressed in a clean pair of white jeans short, black tank top and blue checkered shirt over, leaned on the frame of the door. You were waiting for the milk to heat up, luckily the boy was only a month away from being an year old so you could give him cow milk without worrying.

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby." He said ,his voice making you visibly tingle.

You sighed, placing the phone near the wooden bread box and grabbing a cup. By now the milk should have warmed up.

"Um...goofball?"

"Yes,Corpse?"

"You...you are not wearing your voice changer. I..I am sorry, I should have told you from the start but I like the s-sound of it ,I didn't want it to stop."

You could hear the beads of his bracelets as he played with them, nervously waiting for your response.

"I-It's okay, Corpse. You don't need to be sorry."

You swallowed, this day really came for your neck. Your eyes stung as you fight them off, no reason to make Corpse's day shittier by being pathetic.

"You are not fine ,are you goofball?"

The kind and worried tone of this wonderful individual you became to take a liking of was enough to cause everything in you to break loose.

"N-No ,it's not. Everything been so fucking stressful and I-I don't know what to do Corpse. I try my might to fight these thoughts but everytime they resurface stronger and more disturbing. I can't keep them in control, Corpse. I just CAN'T. A-And I keep worrying about losing all: my friends, my belongings and my family. I feel like I will drive them away especially if I can't bring my share to the table. I don't even know why I tell you these to be honest, I don't want to scare you away but in the same time I ... FUCK!"

Your fists hit the table you been resting on hard , scaring the child in the living room. His cries only angered you more.

"Ghost. Ghost! Ghost! Gho-"

"WHAT?"

You instantly regretted shouting at him,stopping from your pacing too.

"Calm down,buttercup. I know how you feel and going down a warpath or an abyss of sorrows ain't the answer. Come, let me help. "

"You still want to?" Your voice came out timidly and shying away in fear, shielding your eyes in shame despite him having no possible way of seeing your face.

"Of course, you goof. Now let's see what we do with that kid."

You swiped a tear out of your right eyes ,smiling and nodding before remembering he couldn't see, just hear you. That made you more anxious now that you realised that he knows a close guarded information.

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A smile ran down your face as you watched the child all wrapped up in his dark blue blanket struggle to jeep his bright eyes opened as his ears and energy were captured by Corpse's singing. It's was a lullaby about moon and love, being in Spanish you only understood unfortunately the words close to your mother language.

You almost lost yourself to the gentle hums , stringing of a guitar and over all wholesome cozy atmosphere when loud voices and thumbs came from the apartment near Fatima's.

An idiot called Tudor who plays the bass part in Sergiu's band lived there, he and his boyfriend Micah. Two assholes who had a bone to pick with everyone, well more like Tudor had ,Micah was a follower.

The sense of protection enveloped you as you caressed the child's hair and kiss his right temple, letting him with Corpse to fall asleep.

Your grey flippers cracked against the stone stairs harshly and quickly. Your glare being as cold as the staircase room.

You knocked furiously on the door, hurting your hands by the metal indentations carved into the door. Your ears picked up footsteps approaching the door in a lazy manner, the two making jokes about what kind of bitch could be bothering them.

The smirk on his long face vanished when his pale blue eyes meet your fiery dark ones. He puffed a lock of dirty blond hair , saluting you in a cocky but intimidated manner :

"I wonder why the Red Riding Hood is paying us a visit? What do you think ,Micah?"

He leaned back to let his dark skinned boyfriend take a look at you. His eyes showed fear but he continued the masquerade in order to please his scumbag of a lover.

"I don't know, babe. Maybe she wants a threesome."

Tudor laughed like then pig he is, Micah lipped an apology to you, his black gems cowering in shame.

Micah wasn't a bad man , he was just naive and a people's pleaser, with no sense of stern morals but even awareness to know he is the wrong. You never understood why he wasted his breath by staying at the side of this buffoon of a dude. You ignored his half-cocked insults, knowing they didn't really had a backbone to them.

"I will appreciate if you could tone it down a little. No one needs to know you two are making a sex tape."

This seemed to anger the taller white as mayonnaise man who dismissed his boyfriend with a wave of his painted hand and moved forward to you. The red door of his apartment shutting up with an echo.

You two glared at each other, not one of the other backing down. Your breath was forcefully calmed down by your anger , last thing you needed is for him to know he was affecting you by coming too close. Your hands shook in their tight grip and you were pleased you cut your nails earlier.

"Just because Sergiu lets you come with us when we play, doesn't mean you and I are friends. Got it, girly?"

His rough tone only displeased you.

"And just because you can string two cords and not sound like a dying cat doesn't mean you are a great singer either, buddy."

"Fuck you." He said that to you in a clasped breath, his teeth biting on his lower lip as his face appeared more furious.

If this motherfucker puts his hands on me ,I swear I will...

"Y/N? Y/N!"

It was Sergiu.

The man in a punk style leather jacket ran quickly up the stairs, his armored black boots clicking away.

His face was twisted into a fearing expression before turning into a more pissed off one. He knew of Tudor's dislike towards you and knew that the both of you won't hold back if this turns physical. He needed to be smart about this.

"Man, come on. Leave her alone."

He moved to come between you ,Tudor's movement of hand stopped him.

"Nah,man. This bitch thinks she come here like she owns the fucking place and tell me what to do? I am sorry, princess, but you got another thing going. "

"TUDOR ISAAC POPESCU!"

A female voice caused his blood to ran cold and you to smirk.

Behind Sergiu, a petite woman in her mid fifties glared at him. Her greying hair caught in a bun,her olive wrinkled face was in a madden frown as her blue eyes shield by fuchsia framed glasses stared at him. The madame in green suit pants and white and black blouse was his mother.

His mother, a teacher at your University, was a lioness of a woman, never detour from the right path of doing things and more importantly never afraid to tear down anyone if they being dickish. Not even her loved son.

Sergiu grabbed gently you without a word as you two left the mother and son quarrel in peace, a part of you already starting to feel bad. You hate when you argued with someone but your anger sometimes got the better of you. Today truly has been an exhausting day.

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You are in your room,Corpse still on the phone with you. You already explained what happened and know you enjoyed just talking with him about everything and nothing at the same time,trying to not fall asleep for how calming his voice was.

"You sure you don't want me to end the call. You must be tired from all the noises. "

You stirred, cleaning the droll of your left wnd of your lips. Your head ache as you saw that night has befallen.

"Wh-What?"

"Goofball,I was talking if you wanted me to let you rest but you already beat me to it."

"T-Tj?"

"Your friends said they will take care of them. They were so surprised to find me singing to him, though."

"Ah,shit. Sorry Corpse."

"Nothing to be sorry about, pumpkin. "

"Pumpkin, seriously?" You asked ,snuggling back into the comforter.

"Yeah, why not? The fall season is still up for a month or so."

"Hmm, I prefer goofball better."

"If you say so, princess. You *yawn* you sure you don't want me to let you sleep?"

A panick arised into your soul as you quickly told him no.

"P-Please stay."

"A-Alright."

He began to continue the story one of his subscribers send him as your eyes shut. A smile on your lips at last.

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Hey,guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the fifth part of the serie. It was a roller coaster to write.

Anyway, stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @gaysludge @mythicalamphitrite