#i hope my mom inherits the house | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

warping-realities · 2 months ago

Text

Alpha Scent

Hank wasn’t exactly thrilled. When his uncle said there was a job opening for the young guy fresh off the farm in the big city, Hank figured it’d be in the accounting or admin side of his company. What he never expected was that his uncle would have him start working as just another grunt laborer. Like he was one of the many immigrants he hired every day for that kind of job, and not his sister’s eldest son. His dad had warned him that his brother-in-law was one of those liberals who’d rather hire foreigners than a true-blood American. Even though Hank was from a small city in Mississippi and wasn’t exactly allergic to hard work, he thought this would be his shot to start a career in the business world, maybe even inherit his uncle’s company someday.

The only reason he hadn’t packed up and headed back to the small town near Columbus was because he was still holding out hope. His uncle had been cold ever since he showed up, looking at Hank like he was some unwanted guest. Hank only found out why later: his mom’s brother was a big-time fag. That should’ve been enough for Hank to turn tail and head back home. He was freaked out just thinking about what his father would say if he knew Hank was living under the same roof as a sodomite. But he hadn’t driven all the way out to this liberal, left-wing pit that was California to quit that easily. He had threatened to spill the beans about his uncle to his mom, the pious and super-religious Hank grandma. Even though his uncle was living in sin in Los Angeles, he had the old lady fooled, pretending to be a righteous man. At first, his uncle was shocked, then cursed Hank out, but in the end, he gave in, knowing he had no way out.

“Alright, Hank, I’m gonna give you a job you don’t deserve, but first, I need you to do one last thing for one of my most important clients in Beverly Hills: Lee Yutao.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Yeah, someone like you wouldn’t know Mr. Lee. He’s a famous perfumer, used to work for top designer brands, now runs his own niche perfume company. The man is a total recluse, barely leaves his house. He spends all his free time taking care of the gardens at his various mansions around the world.”

“Sounds pretty gay.”

“Yeah, but this is one gay guy you don’t wanna mess with, especially if you wanna keep your job.”

So there Hank was, standing in front of Lee Yutao’s massive mansion on top of Beverly Hills, wondering how someone could end up with something that big just by mixing scents. Didn’t seem fair, especially since it was some damn Chinese guy, taking what he felt should be American land. He thought that to himself, ignoring the fact that his great-grandfather had come to America just over 80 years ago, fleeing a collapsing Germany during World War II.

As he walked up to the gate, a metallic voice spoke to him through a hidden intercom.

“You’re late,” said the voice, speaking perfect English, but with a slight accent Hank couldn’t place.

“I’m here, aren’t I? You gonna let me in or what?”

“Head to the garden near the pool. Your job today is to organize the stones by the rose garden. And under no circumstances are you to touch any of the flowers.”

“Yeah, as if I need more work than I already got…” Hank muttered.

“Did you say something?”

“Just point me in the right direction,” Hank replied, as the huge gate opened and he stepped onto the property, full of himself but completely unaware he was walking right into the jaws of something way dangerous than he imagined.

Following the metallic voice’s instructions, Hank made his way into the massive garden and got to work. He knew there were cameras hidden in the bushes, so he gave it his all, even though he was pissed. His performance here was crucial to his future plans.

By the afternoon, he was ahead of schedule, still fuming about being stuck there but careful not to touch the precious flowers. Not because he cared about what the client wanted, but because he suspected there was a limit to how much his uncle would tolerate before he snapped and spilled the beans about his lifestyle. That’s when something really weird happened. While taking a quick break, a breeze hit him, carrying a strange smell—nothing like the roses around him. It was a heavy, almost animalistic scent, something Hank had never smelled before.

“What the hell is that?” He said out loud, dropping the shovel but getting no response. The smell wasn’t just messing with his nose—it was throwing off all his other senses. He followed the scent to a particular bush. There, among the roses, was a flower that looked no different from the rest, except it was the source of that odd odor.

“What kind of sick joke is this?” Hank asked again, but if the metallic voice heard him, it chose to ignore him. Hank figured it didn’t matter—he had a job to finish, and he was getting out of there. But for some weird reason, his body was pushing him forward. Why was he doing something he was told not to do? Why did he grab the flower and bring his face close to it? The scent hit him like a truck, intoxicating and overwhelming. He quickly pulled back, feeling dizzy, but it didn’t help. The smell was on him—inside his nose, on his skin, all over him.

“I need to get this off me… I need to get it off…” he mumbled. That’s when the voice spoke again.

“I warned you not to touch them, but I understand. The temptation is real. If you want to get rid of my scent, follow the rose path to the pool.”

Dazed and confused, Hank didn’t even think about disobeying the voice. He staggered through the garden, now feeling like every flower was giving off that same smell, the smell that made him want to give in to pure, uncontrollable lust. It took everything he had not to stop right there and give in to his urges. After what felt like an eternity, he finally reached the pool, and without even thinking, he dove in. He thought the water would wash the smell—and the desire—away. But when he came up for air and stood, the smell was back.

“This can’t be…” Hank muttered, trying to splash water on his face, but it didn’t work. The metallic voice spoke again.

“Perfect! Full immersion guarantees the effect. Now, come to the main house. It’s time for us to have a more… in-depth conversation.”Hank, barely holding on, followed the voice’s instructions and made his way to the house.

Every step felt like a struggle as the desire still coursed through him. The house was huge and luxurious, decorated with such a refined taste that Hank, lost in confusion couldn’t even appreciate it. Each slow step down the hall felt like a personal torture.

“You’re almost there, boy,” the voice said. “Turn right at the end of the hall and enter the master suite.”

Hank stumbled toward a massive oil painting at the end of the hall, depicting an imposing Asian man, dressed like an ancient warrior with his chest exposed. This must’ve been the guy behind all of this, Hank thought—the owner of the mansion, Lee Yutao. Inside his clouded mind, Hank tried to feel anger toward the guy. But as another wave of that strange scent hit him, all the anger was swallowed up by an overwhelming urge. He wanted to be with that man. He needed to feel him, to touch him, to have him inside him…

Realizing what he was thinking, Hank’s last shred of self-awareness melted away, replaced by absolute terror. What the hell would he do when he met this man, who was presumably behind the big wooden door now opening in front of him?

To Hank's relief and disappointment, the gigantic room was empty. He stood in the doorway, waiting for further orders like a total doofus.

“Come on in, take a seat on the bed, and just chill. More instructions are coming up soon.”

The bed was actually this massive setup that could’ve filled an entire room in a regular-sized house. Hank plopped down right in the middle of it, his still-wet skin soaking the silky black sheets. In front of him was a TV monitor so huge it looked like a movie screen. As his lust-fogged brain struggled to figure out what was going on, the giant screen lit up in a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. The constant swirl of colors made whatever little conscious thought Hank had left turn into mush. As drool dripped from the corner of his mouth and his eyes rolled back, a face emerged amidst the colorful chaos.

“Hey there, Hank. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but the pleasure will come for both of us. But not before some… enhancements. Your uncle and I have history together, and what you tried to do to him is just unacceptable. That’s why I’m pretty comfortable with what’s about to happen. If everything goes smoothly and I have enough faith in my work to believe it’ll, we’ll have one less awful creature in the world and one more real human being.” The Asian guy with striking features could’ve been talking to the walls, Hank’s reaction was so minimal. Even though a part of him was screaming in despair in the back of his intoxicated mind, it wasn’t enough to pull him out of the stupor he was in.

“Since I was really young, I’ve been totally into all kinds of scents, mixing them up to create something unique and fresh. I traveled the world testing different fragrances and essences; my work got recognized, and fame followed. But I got so caught up in my relentless quest for the perfect scent that I pushed my personal life to the back burner, becoming more introverted and isolated. When I finally decided I’d had enough of being alone and wanted to find the right person, a long string of disappointments followed. The people I got involved with were mostly after my fame or my cash, and the few who were genuinely into me loved the public figure and not the real me. This made me shut myself off from society; it seemed like I’d never find anyone who could pull me out of my shell.

That’s when I had this idea: if I can create the perfect scent, then I can also create the perfect partner. I just needed a base to work from, and thanks to your nasty behavior towards your uncle, I got what I needed. Goodbye, Hank!”

“…impossible…” Hank managed to mumble before being hit by a wave of Yutao’s perfume and collapsing onto the comfy sheets of the giant bed, while the man’s voice recited words that his brain couldn’t consciously grasp but that worked to completely change who Hank Zimmer was.

“…it all started during the tests for the recording of my next perfume commercial…”

Hank felt something solid beneath him, way different from the soft mattress he had just sunk into. He felt way more alert than just moments ago. Opening his eyes, he found himself in another place; there were lights aimed at him, tons of them, along with a bunch of people milling around behind them. The taste of tobacco dominated his taste buds, and he felt both more compact and heavier. He looked down and saw a muscular, tanned body that was definitely not his. What the hell is going on? he thought, but any attempt to verbalize something was blocked. Even though he was more awake, he had no control over his own body.

“Cut! Great job, Han! Awesome! I think you’re the perfect choice to be the face of Alpha Scent. But first, we need Mr. Lee’s approval. The final say is his.”

“Of course, I’m just really grateful for the opportunity.” Hank found himself responding in a smooth, melodic voice, even a bit delicate, while getting rid of the disgusting cigarette used in the recording. “When will I find out the result?”

“Oh, Mr. Lee himself will get in touch if you’re approved. He insists.”Hank was immersed in doubts, he didn't know what was happening, but just hearing Lee Yutao's name made him tremble.

The image dissolved, and Hank once again felt the softness of a mattress beneath him. He was lying on a bed that seemed way too small for his muscular, compact body. His fingers were typing away quickly on a smartphone.

“…I can definitely show you more… but there’s gonna be a price!” He typed with his hand without even thinking about it, then moved the phone and sent a provocative pic of his powerful exposed legs.

“Whoa, whoa, Mr. Zhang Hanqian, I thought the fact that I picked you to be the face of my masterpiece would be payment enough.” That was the response from who could only be Lee Yutao.

“I never mix business with pleasure, Mr. Lee; the price I’m asking for is different. Few have had the chance to see you in person, and to get all this here, the payment is a date.”The man sharing Hank's body tiped before sitting in the modest apartment room and sending a recorded video in front of the mirror to the man he was trying to seduce.

That was Hank's chance to see who he was sharing his consciousness with, and what he saw made him scream at the top of his lungs, even though no one could hear. Sitting in a comfy chair in front of the mirror, completely naked, was a young Asian man, whom he guessed was probably Chinese, with his knowledge about other races which was inversely proportional to the anger he felt towards immigrants. A rage that peaked in that moment, mixed with a giant despair. He was stuck in the body of a flamboyant man whore who was trying to seduce another man at that moment.

“Okay, boy, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention. I’m in the Amazon researching the aroma of priprioca for a new fragrance, I’ll be back in California at the end of the month. Be ready; you’ll need more than a sculpted body to turn my attention into real interest.”

Once again, Hank felt everything dissolve around him, only to find himself in a totally different place. This time, he was lying on a cushioned surface, wearing nothing but swim trunks, with the summer sun shining on his body while a cool breeze partially relieved the heat of the day. He was in some kind of resort, strangely empty except for his own figure. Unlike before, now he could feel the anxiety of that other guy, Han, as if the barrier between them was getting thinner. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something he had been waiting for was about to happen in the next few moments. That’s when Hank saw scared the guy from the gigantic painting in the mansion approaching, while Han, in turn, was enjoying the sight of the figure in front of him. He wanted to meet Yutao for his art, talent, and fortune, but now he was genuinely interested in the man before him, a dude with an impressive physique, walking with the confidence of someone who had the world at his feet.

“You got a tattoo,” Lee Yutao remarked, eyeing Han's bicep with a deep voice, but unlike what Han expected, there was a hint of insecurity in it.

“I’ve got more in hidden spots if you wanna see,” Han replied, reveling in the sight of one of the most powerful guys in the industry blushing, his confidence slipping away. That was unexpected; Lee Yutao had seemed way more assertive in their messages. But apparently, the teasing had the desired effect.

“How about we head up to my suite and you show me everything you can do… boy.” Yutao replied with more confidence, making Han smile with satisfaction while Hank was horrified at the prospect of what could happen.

He was still worried when everything dissolved and solidified around him again.

He was out of breath, heart racing, as if he’d just been hit hard, and yet a feeling of tired pleasure washed over him to the point where he couldn’t help but smile.

They were both Hank and Han experiencing this, and it freaked Hank out, causing his smile to fade, which didn’t go unnoticed by the person next to him.

“Han, babe, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Han replied, glancing at where Yutao was lying. “Your big cock just took my breath away.” He added, making them both laugh.

“Man, you say stuff that throws me off. Even after all these months, no matter how confident I think am, you totally disarm me.”

“I think you need someone to keep you on your toes.”

“Maybe…” Yutao replied as the room dissolved into smoke and Hank found himself in a different place again. He was in a luxurious bathroom, maybe in that same first resort; he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. The only thing he could make out was Han, once again holding the phone, recording a video for someone. Probably Yutao. Hank felt curious about where that conversation was headed.

“Miss me, babe? When am I gonna see you? It doesn’t make sense for you to keep sending me these gifts if you’re not here with me!” Han said with a teasing look.

Just then, a reply to the video came in. “I’ll send my private jet to pick you up right now! Talk to you in Phi Phi.” Han lit up with joy, and Hank, even reluctantly, shared the feeling as everything around him once again reshaped. What hit him first was the smell of the ocean, brought by the beach breeze while he feel the sand under his feet.

“I can’t believe you were too shy to go shirtless at the beach. What’s the point of having a hot body like that if you’re not gonna show it off?”

“I work on my body for me, Han, not to flaunt it for everyone else!”

“That doesn’t make any sense; nobody looks like that if they don’t wanna be admired!”

“Oh, I want to be admired, just not by everyone, only by the right guy!”

“Hmm, and what does it take to be the right guy, Mr. Lee?”

“I still don’t totally know, but I’d bet that you’re on the right track!”

“Can I know what I’m doing right then?”

“I can’t say for sure; I just feel like I can be myself with you…”

“Oh, it’s because I’m so disarming, huh?”

“Could be…”

“Great, then let’s disarm you a bit more!” Han said, grabbing Yutao's phone and opening Instagram.

“What are you doing, Han?”

“Babe, you can keep playing the tough guy, you can wear me out in bed, but you can’t post a single pic on Instagram? You know what you really need? Someone with initiative by your side!”

“And that would be you?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to be disarming? Well, I’m gonna be!” Han replied, sliding his sunglasses down his nose and striking a pose for a selfie.

“You look ridiculous!” Yutao said, laughing.

“Babe, when you’re as hot as we are, who cares? But it’s your call.” Han shot back, handing the phone back to the other guy. After a thoughtful pause, Yutao got into position and took his first Instagram pic, revealing his face behind the brand for the first time, next to the young model posing.

Hank didn’t try to intervene at any point, maybe because he finally accepted that he was just a passenger in this body. But deep down, the barrier between him and Han was slowly crumbling, and he felt what the other felt, something very different from what he was used to. Han was into Yutao, sure, in a physical way, which strangely didn’t bother Hank as much anymore. But the interest was more than just physical; initially, it was about the mysterious figure of the man, the power he exuded, and his wealth—things Hank could understand in his greedy mind. However, at some point, the interest shifted to the person himself, the shy man trying to play the dominant alpha who quickly fell for Han’s tricks, who could leave him speechless with just a few words, even if he later surrendered to pleasure.

Not knowing how to deal with those contradictions, he felt reality reshape around him.

He was sitting on a comfy couch, his own hand covering his eyes. Once again, with his chest and legs bare.

“Go ahead and look, Han, babe!” It was Yutao’s voice. And both Han and Hank felt a wave of happiness hit them at the sight of the ring the other man offered.

“Han, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You made me realize I don’t have to act like someone I’m not to get what I want. You push me out of my comfort zone, you challenge me with every word, you disarm me, and I love you for that and everything else. Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” Han and Hank said in unison, the barrier between them finally dissolving as in a luxurious mansion bedroom, lying on a gigantic bed, Hank’s restless body underwent the transformation his mind had already accepted.

It all started with a shrinking of a few inches, bringing him down from a respectable 6'1" to a more modest 5'7", while his sun-burned white skin picked up a naturally golden hue, accentuated by hours spent tanning by the pool completely nude. His facial features became more delicate, with characteristics that would forever define him as someone of Asian descent, while his blond hair turned a raven black. Time seemed to pause for a moment as the young man let out a sleepy sigh; then the real transformation began. His chest was replaced by a pair of well-defined muscles tits ready to be sucked by his lover. Below that, a well-toned abdomen formed, with eight bricks of pure meat. As his upper body developed a V-shape, his lower body also went through significant changes; enormous muscles formed in his calves and especially in his thighs, making it impossible for him to walk without the characteristic sway that only someone with tree-trunk-thick legs learns to master. Unlike the rest of his body, his feet became more delicate and smaller, with nails as well-groomed as a rich vain woman. But the feet weren’t the only thing shrinking; the massive member that was Hank’s pride shrank down to a modest size while his butts expanded, ready for ready to be pounded by Yutao's powerful thighs while his massive cock vigorously hit Han's prostate.

As Yutao’s plan unfolded, the man himself approached the bed he shared with his husband and partner for life.

“Where have you been, babe? I need you now!” Han said, making his voice heard for the first time in those walls, while Yutao felt the presence that had brought forth the perfect man for him, experiencing an afternoon of love that would just be the first of many to come. As Han surrendered to pleasure, so did Hank, the distinction between the two already nonexistent.

Hours later, in the next morning, the couple took advantage of their workout session in the professional gym they had at home to snap a selfie for social media.

After spending the whole session feeling a specific aroma mixed with his partner’s scent, Yutao couldn’t help but ask.

“Are you wearing Alpha Scent while working out?”

“I’m the face of the fragrance, babe; it’s my duty to wear it on any occasion.”

“I know, but you’re well aware that the version I have at home is the real deal. If someone who isn’t one of us smells it, I don’t know what the consequences could be.”

“Afraid someone else might show up and steal me away? That’s impossible, babe; I’m completely yours. But I really do wonder what would happen in that case…”

“Don’t get any wild ideas, Han…”

“I thought you were with me precisely just because of wild cideas.”

“I’m with you because I love you. But now you reminded me of something. We need some help with the house!”

“Hey, you know I don’t mind taking care of you and our home. I love being a devoted trophy boy.”

“Babe, you’re so much more than that, and even though you gave up your modeling career for me, you’ve made us one of the biggest digital influencer couples out there. So, as much as I love tending to the garden while you cook and take care of the house, we can’t do this without some help.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Let’s hire some people and find someone capable of managing our homes when you’re busy.”

“And who’s going to do that as well as I do?” Han asked playfully.

“Nobody, babe, nobody. But a friend of mine is gonna send his brother-in-law over in the next few days. The guy’s a complete waste of human meat, but he’s the perfect test subject for what the new version of Alpha can do. Now let’s snap that selfie already; I’m dying to enjoy our time together in the best way, fucking your ass!”

#male tf #mind change #mental transformation #musclegrowth #race change #straight to gay #my story

383 notes · View notes

writerswall26 · 1 year ago

Text

My Sweet Cairo (Part 1)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 3.1k

Masterlist | Next Part

A/N: This is the first time I'm posting here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading

Final year of high school was somewhat a bliss for a student athlete like Y/N. Everything should be perfect from then on. Grades, soccer games, even soccer practice needs to be perfect. If she wants to go to her dream university in California, she needs to do everything by the book. Be a model student, win games as a Captain of the soccer team, be everything. Being strained in a small town in Tennessee after moving a couple years ago, she did not expect to be where she is in life right now. It's too early to tell but she knows what she wants and she will get there however means necessary.

She was not rich by all means but their family got by. Her mom inherited a huge house in Tennessee from her father, then an incident happened and next thing she knows, she's flying from Australia to a place she's never heard of.

"Great job, guys! That's all for today, now go wash up and go to your class." Coach Boris Fillmore dismissed them.

Y/N was the first to the locker rooms. She has literature with Mr. Miller and she's somewhat excited when it comes to that class so she did not want to be late. Unfortunately for her, she's a few minutes late.

"Good Morning, Mr. Miller. I'm sorry I'm late." She said, panting while she sat beside her classmate Winnie Black, a girl from last semester.

Their teacher, Jonathan Miller turned to her with a smile.

"I was just starting, Ms. Y/L/N." He said, and he started the class.

"You smell nice." Y/N heard Winnie whisper beside her. This girl has always been a flirt, especially with their coach.

She turned to Winnie with a smile before flicking a paper in her face. "Stop hitting on me, you creep." She joked, hearing the girl giggle before their attention went to the front to focus on whatever Mr. Miller was teaching them.

"That's all for today's class, I expect your reviews on my desk first thing in the morning before our next class." Mr. Miller dismissed them, clapping his hands together to remove the remnants of the chalk that were stuck in them.

After Y/N finished putting her things inside her bag, she stood up and went to the front to speak with their teacher.

"Hey, Mr. Miller?" Y/N called out, making their teacher turn to her with a smile, he was always smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Here's an excuse letter for all the soccer team. Game's on the night before passing. I can pass the assignment earlier." Y/N said, handing out a paper to Mr. Miller who scanned it.

The older teacher nodded as he raised his head to look at her. "I'll be here. You can pass it before or after you win us that game. Good luck."

"Thanks, Mr. Miller. Have a great day." Y/N said before she started to walk back when she bumped into someone, making their things fall to the ground.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry." She apologized but immediately stopped when she saw who she bumped into.

Short girl, tanned skin, freckles on her face, brunette hair, and her captivating brown eyes. Cairo Sweet.

"I'm sorry." Y/N said once again before she stooped down to grab all the books down the floor.

She heard a small giggle before Cairo stooped down to help her pick up the books that fell. "Better watch where you're going next time, superstar." Cairo said, smiling as Y/N handed her the books.

Y/N couldn't help but smile. She's had the biggest crush on Cairo since she's first seen the girl walking to school. Their houses are just a few blocks away. Since then, she would always ride her bike to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cairo before she got to practice. And without fail, she would pass by Cairo on the road and that would make her entire day.

"We have a game on saturday night. Do you think you could come and watch?" Y/N asked, getting all shy.

Cairo smiled. "I'll check in on my schedule."

Y/N nodded before she walked back, still smiling as she stared at the brunette girl and ended up bumping into someone again. Y/N immediately apologized before turning to Cairo who was already giggling.

"See you saturday night, Cairo." She reminded before she ran off to save herself from further humiliation.

"You're all smiles and shit." Jasmine, a friend from her soccer team said as she sat down in their physics class, taught by their coach Mr. Fillmore.

"I finally talked to her." She informed her friend, her smile not leaving her face.

"With who?"

"Cairo Sweet."

Jasmine howlered before slapping her hard on the arm which made her groan as she rubbed the soar place. "You finally did it!"

"I finally did, huh?" She said, grinning like a crazy love sick girl.

"Y/L/N, Smith, eyes up front!" Coach Fillmore called which made them straighten themselves up, but their knowing looks were there.

Before saturday, Y/N is back in Mr. Miller's classroom to pass her essay. She wanted to be a good student and not take advantage of being a star athlete. Her father always told her to focus more on being a student than being an athlete and she kept that in mind until now.

"You're early." Mr. Miller greeted her as soon as she stepped inside his classroom.

"Good morning, sir. I'm gonna pass my essay since Coach would excuse us the entire day for training. It's semis and it's a huge deal." She said, handing the teacher her polished essay.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Make sure you win us that championship or I'd fail you and tell Coach Boris to do the same in your physics class."

She chuckled. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No, you will not."

"Yes, I will."

"Nah, you don't have the balls to do it, sir." She jokes which got her a howler from the incoming Coach, with coffee and biscuits in hands, and a laugh from their literature teacher.

"Training starts in ten, what are you doing here Y/L/N?" Coach Fillmore asked, handing Mr. Miller his coffee and laying down a biscuit on the front table.

"Mr. Miller here is threatening to fail me if we lose the championship, he's dragging your ass out to do so."

Coach Fillmore gave his friend a look before laughing. "That's not gonna happen."

"That's what I'm saying. Because I'm gonna make sure we win that championship and wave that cup in Mr. Miller's face together with my MVP cup." She said confidently and jokingly, making the two older men laugh.

"You're a cocky one, get your ass out here." Coach Fillmore said to which Y/N nodded. "And get a biscuit on the way out, you're gonna need that."

Y/N did get a biscuit and smiled at her two favourite teachers. "Later, Mr. Miller. Be ready to be humiliated when we get that championship."

"She's still not done?" She heard Coach Fillmore say.

"I'll be waiting here in my classroom." Mr. Miller followed.

By Saturday night, Y/N's nerves are on the roof. Their opponent is one of the strongest in the high school league and they're legacy. They've won 4 back to back championships and they were hard on Y/N since she came.

"I'm gonna go get some air before we start." Y/N told Jasmine who nodded.

While she was out praying and pacing, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. And what greeted her made her forget the nerves, only her smile and the presence of the person mattered from here on.

"You came... and you dragged Winnie with yah." Y/N said, glancing at Winne who had a teasing smile as she waved her fingers.

"Actually, Winne dragged me here with her, I did not intend to come."

"Why are you here?" Y/N asked Winnie who rolled her eyes.

"She wanted to watch Coach Fillmore in action." Cairo was the one who answered.

Y/N turned to Cairo with furrowed brows. "Coach Fillmore's not playing."

"But he will be out there frustrated and hot." Winnie finally spoke, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"Lay off him, will you? He's happy, contented."

"He hasn't had me yet." Winnie said with a flirtatious grin, her brows wriggling.

"That's disgusting. How about I hook you up with some of my jock friends? That's more appropriate."

"Mm-mm." She heard Cairo, making her turn to the brunette. "She doesn't like smelly cocky jocks."

"They're all rough and sweaty. I want something delicate and gentle."

Y/N made a face of disgust. "That's incredibly disturbing. And you're public enemy number 1 for me."

Winnie snorted. "You're just saying that because you don't want Cairo to have the same thinking as me."

Y/N kept quiet about that statement. But Winnie just laughed. "Oh boohoo, everyone in this school knows you're whipped for Cairo. Since sophomore years."

"Hence the reason you're public enemy number 1." Y/N said, not caring if Cairo's staring at her with this new found information. The shyness and shame is far out of her body at this point.

"Whatever you say, superstar. Go back in there, I can see my man looking for you." Winnie said, staring at a distance.

Sure enough, Coach Fillmore is out there seemingly looking for her.

"I gotta go. You two look for seats. Thanks for coming, Cairo." Y/N finally said, starting to jog back to the dugout.

"You're whipped!" She heard Winnie shout.

"And you're on my hit list!" She shouted with a smile.

"Good luck!" She heard Cairo saying which made her giddy inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" Coach Fillmore said as soon as she got to him. "Get your ass inside."

The two of them walked back to the dugout for a motivational speech from the coach. When Coach Fillmore was done, she got her stage.

"One thing, I got a girl I really really want to impress seated in one of those stands. And if we lose, I will make you all regret it." She threatened, which got her a whistling and howling from her teammates.

"That's not our problem, Cap." One of her mates said, chuckling.

"Oh, but it will be. If we lose this game, you're gonna get it from me." Coach Fillmore said, making everyone groan. "Now, get your ass out there and get us that win."

"How come you have coach on your side?!" Jasmine whined as they got out to start their game.

Y/N just shrugged as they focused. The announcer called both teams to the field and even without going out, they could hear the loud cheering and stumping. They all lined up side by side with the opponent team to have the anthem before the game started.

The first 30 minutes was a play of getting the ball and staying on the field for sheer amusement. It was boring for most people but for some, they can feel the heat starting to as the halftime comes.

"Y/N!" Jasmine shouted and passed the ball towards her. It's a free goal, she got the ball, ran her ass out and kicked it for the goal.

"And that's the first goal of the night from the Ravens' team captain Y/N Y/L/N!" The commentator shouted as the stands erupt in cheers.

She slid her way and did her celebratory dance with her teams, the cheering getting louder.

"Come on, come on!" They heard Coach Fillmore shouting as well.

The rest of the first half was them defending their post until halftime.

"That's was a great job, guys!" Coach told everyone as they cheered on the locker room for their ten minute halftime.

"They're seething. I saw them glaring at us before we went back." Y/N told their coach who nodded.

"That is why you're gonna be subbed out." He said.

There was a series of complaints but the Coach blew his whistle and they all shut up.

"Coach, you can't let her sit this second half down, they're gonna chew our asses out! We barely managed to defend them!" Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"Do you trust me?" Coach asked them, looking at them one by one.

There was a series of humming and yesses.

"Then you have to let me do what I do best. That is to coach you." He assured them.

"We're gonna get our asses handed to us in the second half." Y/N told their coach who walked to her.

"Do you trust me?" Coach Fillmore asked one more time but Y/N turned her head away from the older man. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

The Captain looked at this coach, reading him. Then she nodded. "Yes, sir." Her Aussie accent coming out.

Coach Fillmore nodded as he tapped her shoulder. "Now, this is going to be the longest 40 minutes of your lives. They're gonna play whatever play they can to win and get back that point. And I want you all to give it your best shot to defend that goal post and that point you all so painfully got."

They did their team hands before they went back to the fields where Y/N sat her pretty ass down, or not. She was standing beside Coach Fillmore, watching her teammates struggle to defend the ball.

"And that is a goal for the Sharks! Great play from their team captain Trish Hudson!" The announcer exclaimed which Y/N groaned in annoyance. It was an easy goal.

The team was right, they did get their ass handed to them not less than 20 minutes in the game. Y/N was pleading to their coach but it fell on deaf ears.

"And that's another goal for the Sharks!" The commentator said.

Y/N was about to go all Lucifer on it when she noticed something from the other team's captain.

"She's limping." She said, making Coach Fillmore turn to her.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Their star scorer, she's limping. Look." She said, nodding at the other team's captain and sure enough, she was celebrating but she was limping on her right leg.

"You're right. Why is that?" Coach asked, turning to her with furrowed brows.

"Someone rough housed her."

"One of our own? Why do you think so?" He was sceptical

"I know so. They're kinda holding out on a thread out there. An accident maybe?" She said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What did I tell yah?" He said, smiling widely at her.

"Call for the time out, then." She said with a smile and he did call for a time out.

"Alright! We're subbing Y/N back in." He informed their team with a smile.

"Finally!" Jasmine cheered as she let her head fall back.

"What made you change your mind, coach?" One of the teammates asked.

"She's limping." Y/N answered.

"What? Who?" Someone asked.

"Hudson, she's limping. Who rough housed her?" Y/N asked, looking at them one by one. "Come on, no one's blaming yah, she's a machine."

"How would we know? They're boxing us out, if we happened to kick their sheen, it would be an accident." Jasmine reasoned.

"Point taken. Now, go get us that win!" Coach said after the time out and in goes Y/N again.

She was defending the other team's captain and when the ball got to her foot, she immediately ran to the post, was about to kick the ball when she felt a sting on her left leg, making her fall. It was a bad slam.

She immediately stood up but it was still stinging from the cleats. The player got a yellow and a free ball was given.

"You got this Y/N/N!" She heard her team shouting as she closed her eyes, focused on the post, AND GOAL!

"What a wonderful hat trick from the Raven's captain Y/N Y/L/N! This seemed like an overtime coming up!" The commentator said as they celebrated.

"Let's go!" She shouted despite the aching on her left sheen but she did not mind that one bit.

Then the game continued, with 3 minutes remaining on the clock and everyone was doing their hardest to keep the ball alive, no one scoring and the defence was tight.

It was in the Ravens' possession and they were trying hard to get to the post but they were being boxed out. So when Y/N found a hole, she got the ball from her teammate and ran it like there's no tomorrow. She was being chased by 2 players but she mind nothing. The next thing she knows, her left leg was being slammed on, her face was bleeding and the ball was in Jasmine's possession...

"And goal! Right before the clock! The Ravens' take the win for the semi finals! What a goal from Jasmine Smith!" The stands erupted as everyone cheered.

Cairo has been holding her breath since the last five minutes, she's seen how the other team was playing dirty and they're aiming at Y/N. Her heart almost stopped when Y/N fell to the ground right before Jasmine scored. Even with the loud cheering and all, her eyes never left Y/N who pushed herself up and limped to her teammates, her face bleeding.

"That seemed like a bad cut." Winnie said worriedly, but Cairo still never left her gaze on Y/N who got body slammed by her teammates.

When everything was calmed, Cairo pulled Winnie with her to the lockers to check on Y/N and sure enough, she was just done getting patched up.

"That looked like a bad fall." Cairo said, walking towards Y/N who had an ice bag on her left leg and a few butterfly band aid on her right eyebrow.

Y/N's face immediately lit up as soon as she saw Cairo standing in front of her.

"Hey. Did you like the game?" She asked, fixing herself.

"It was boring." Cairo answered with a shrug.

"She was holding her breath the entire time you were out on the field." Winnie chimed in, making Cairo glare at her.

"You were?" Y/N asked, her smile widened at the thought.

"Don't be all cocky, now." Cairo rolled her eyes.

Winnie let out a playful gagging sound before she walked out. "I'll leave you two lovebirds in here while I go find Coach Boris."

"Lay off him!" Y/N shouted again but it fell on deaf ears.

Y/N shook her head before she turned to Cairo who was watching her with a small smile.

"So this is what you do huh?" Cairo said, walking towards her until she was in front of Y/N who was looking up. Despite her sitting down, she's still almost as tall as Cairo. What an adorable sight.

"Since I could remember, yeah."

With hesitation, Cairo held a hand on Y/N's cut, caressing it gently. The taller girl leaned in to the touch, her body relaxing despite her heart pounding in her chest, she thought it was gonna jump out of her body any time soon.

"Is it bad?" Cairo asked softly, making her open her eyes to look at the lovely brown eyes staring at her.

"Nothing I can take." She whispered.

Cairo smiled sweetly before she let her hand fall on her side as she stepped back. Y/N was disappointed and aching to bring that warmth back but she stayed quiet.

"Congratulations on the win. You did great out there." Cairo said with a smile, her cute dimples showing leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Y/N watched as the brunette turned around and started walking. "Will you be watching the finals? I could use a little energizer."

Cairo turned her head to her with a smile. "I'll think about it." She said and she was out the door in a blink of an eye.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Cairo Sweet."

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #miller's girl #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega

521 notes · View notes

reidphobic · 1 month ago

Note

🎟️your ticket to spill your dad!spencer thoughts

thank u so much for this opportunity… so i’m sure we all know spencer is a girldad but the two of you have a literal horde of daughters. four, to be exact. your eldest, daphne diana (yes, he cried when you suggested the name) took you completely by surprise, two pink lines a positive blood test confirming you don’t just have a bout of terrible food poisoning.

you’re a little afraid, but there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side. spencer absolutely dotes on you through your pregnancy, at your side every minute he’s not on a case. he won’t even let you reach for anything above eye-level, for god’s sake!

and it’s only magnified when she’s born, and she’s so tiny that spencer’s palm is the size of her little face, and he’s rocking her and cooing softly, and you’re delirious and still in pain and flooded with hormones, and you just burst into tears. everything’s perfect, you say at his concerned look. everything’s the most perfect it’s ever been. i hope she takes after you, you say dreamily.

she won’t, if she knows what’s good for her, he quips. most beautiful girl in the world for a mom, and you want her to take after me?

your next daughter is planned, or at least intended to be. daphne’s about two, and already showing signs of being as smart as her father. don’t you think she’d be a good big sister? you murmur, watching him chatter away enthusiastically to her almost-words. only one way to find out.

and then you get an ultrasound. there’s two of them?! what did you do to me? you demand. spencer looks sheepish, as if it’s actually his fault. daphne seems frankly baffled by the concept, insists on asking where the baby is almost every day of your pregnancy. she’s even more confused when you bring two babies home: adeline alexandra and eloise emily. when they’re born, spencer takes an extended sabbatical, and having him consistently at home with you is like a dream.

by the time daphne is five and addie and eloise are three, you’re itching for that sweet new baby smell again. please? you whine, draping yourself over your husband as your eldest daughter covers his fingertips in pink, sparkly nail polish. just one more? you’re so great with them. and you lean in, murmur so your daughters can’t hear. and i know you love how i look pregnant.

you’re regretting that choice in the delivery room for the third time. stop putting daughters in me! you screech. they bite me and destroy my stuff and my house is covered in pink plastic crap! stop it! spencer looks genuinely guilty. but then she’s born, and you forget all of it.

piper penelope is your forever baby, utterly adored by her parents, her sisters, everyone she meets. she shares her namesake’s bubbly personality, a chatterbox from the minute she can talk. of your daughters, she looks the most like her father, and you can tell from the first time spencer sees her how happy it makes him.

the five of you are crammed into a pillow fort your bossy second-born insisted you build, spencer’s lanky frame hunched over and wearing a smile so wide his cheeks must hurt. can you tell us a story, daddy? says daphne, the big brown eyes she inherited from her father shining up at him. you guys want to hear a story? four tiny, overlapping voices cheer and you pull little piper into your arms. let me ask you this, have you ever heard the one about…

(and, yes, all their namesakes did cry upon finding out you and spencer named your daughters after them)

#in my mind palace spencer and alex kept in touch cos i love her hope this helps #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #writing #fluff #blurb #dad!spencer reid

101 notes · View notes

thebearer · 11 months ago

Note

thinking of teddy being like 2 and she’s just so excited about anything and everything, so you do a countdown for anchivys birthday and she is like “happy for chovy dada?” every time she changes the number that’s closer to his birthday

i haven't done a blurb in so long <3 let's do one.

"Chovy?" Teddy chirps, bright eyes shining up at you, hands thrown out exaggeratedly in question- a trait Carmen swore came from you. "T'day? Chovy, t'day?"

"Not today, Teddy Bear." You cooed, sweeping the remnants of her snack into the trash.

At two years old, the world was exciting. Full of so many fun things, at the top of them, birthdays. Carmen's birthday was the first time Teddy really understood what was going on, the first time she really wanted one of her own.

Since then, she was convinced everyday was a birthday, babbling "bir'day, bir'day" around the house until you and Carmen were sure you were going to rip your hair out. Anchovy's birthday was close, the next closest, so you started a countdown for her. Thinking it would curb the constant asking- it did not.

"No?" Teddy's eyes rounded, dropping into an achingly sad look that had your own heart breaking. "No Chovy?"

"No, not today." You hummed, shaking your head. "But close." You chirped, grinning, hoping it would stop the tears you could feel coming from her.

Teddy perked, brows still furrowed in a sullen expression that was all Berzatto, entirely inherited from Carmen. "No bir'day?" Teddy sighed, demeanor switched.

"No, not today, baby." You sighed, scooping her up on your hip. "But, let's go see Daddy how many days we have left?"

A trip to the craft store, spending the entirety of Teddy's nap time one day, you'd made a make shift sort of advent calendar that counted down to the big day. A printed picture of Anchovy from his last birthday, sitting in front of a cake awkwardly.

Carmen had insisted it go in his office, heart swelling when he saw it first. Teddy babbling away excitedly about it, bouncing on her toes. It was positively adorable. Made Carmen's insides burn with a feeling he hadn't known before you. You were a good mom.

"Daddy," You called playfully, swallowing down a grin. He didn't fluster the way he had when you started with Anchovy.

"Yeah?" Carmen muttered, turning in his chair, eyes lighting when he saw both of you. "Oh? Is it my two favorite girls?" He grinned, putting the pencil down in front of him.

"We wanted to ask you something." You put a squirming Teddy on the ground, stifling a laugh when she bolted towards Carmen.

"Yeah? What's up?" Carmen groaned dramatically, lifting Teddy into his lap.

"Chovy bir'day?" Teddy threw her hands out again, turning them up in question to Carmen. You watched him melt right in front of you, a wide smile that still had your heart burning.

"How many more days until Anchovy's birthday?" You nodded.

"How many more days? Hm, let's see." Carmen turned towards the bright poster board pinned behind him. He'd hung it up on his own, proudly.

"You wanna count with me? Let's see how many days. Alright, we're right here, so..." Carmen hugged Teddy close. "One... Two..." He counted slowly, her little chirp of a voice echoing his.

You leaned forward, watching him adoringly. You were definitely bringing up the possibility of baby number two tonight after Teddy went to bed.

"Eight." Carmen nodded, looking down at Teddy. "So how many more days?"

She turned towards him, brows furrowed in thought. "No?"

"No," Carmen laughed. "You're tryna trick me? Hm, are you tryna trick me?" He grinned playfully, tickling her sides so she screeched in laughter.

"No! I no twick!" Teddy giggled loudly.

"So how many more days?" Carmen asked, pressing a kiss into her cheek. "Hm? How many did we count?"

"Eight."

"That's right." You nodded, clapping softly for her. "You're so smart. Such a good counter."

Teddy beamed, hugging Carmen tightly, pressing her face into his neck. "But tonight, you can mark it off and you'll only have seven." He told her, a hand running over her curls gently.

Anchovy slinked in, sliding between your legs as if on cue. You leaned down to pet him gently, scratching behind his ears. Teddy squealed in delight, squirming to get off of Carmen's lap to chase after him.

You watched Anchovy skitter, jump onto Carmen's desk and dash away while Teddy tried to chase him. "Did you tell Marcus to make the cake?" You sighed, sinking into Carmen's lap.

His head pressed to your shoulder, leaving a kiss on the skin there. "Yeah, he's got it. Just need to go to the store. I'll get some of those, the, uh, the streamer things? Think she'll like if we hang those up."

"Anchovy will too," You snorted lightly. "Claw them down like he did my birthday that one time." A memory from years before, another life time it felt like. Before you were married, before you had Teddy, when you and Carmen were still a little careless, care free.

"Yeah, maybe not then?" Carmen hummed.

"No, I think it'll be cute." You grin. "Teddy will love it."

348 notes · View notes

luvvixu · 1 year ago

Text

satoru's little contentment

content: husband!gojo, reader has a son with him along with megs and miki, the beef between megs and toru is real you can't argue with me, teeth-rotten ig?, i'm having a baby fever for a while now huhu, blaming my gf cuz she keeps on showing me baby vids on tiktok—now i want one... not proofread, too lazy, maybe later lmaoaoa

nothing makes gojo satoru content other than seeing his own family here with him.

like at this moment, his family were just hanging around in the gojo estate garden where it used to be boring but now there's a life into it after marrying you. and you, who has a deep love for gardening stuff, you decided to give the house a makeover.

"these are the water lilies that mama planted when she was pregnant with you." with your son in your embrace, you pointed the different types of plants you personally plant.

satsuri was amazed by the colorful plants while you watched the carbon copy of your husband's blue eyes glisten in awe. your heart melts when you see your son tries to communicate with you with his babbles and hand gestures.

planting a kiss on his fluffy cheeks, you couldn't help but to let out a laugh on how adorable your son is. "ooh. i can't wait for the two of us to plant together! we could fill this whole estate with plants and even flowers!" you squeal.

your son tries to wiggle himself free as he would like to be down for a moment and play with nature, or should you say.

satsuri ran around while satoru, who was casually sitting under the tree, watched his loving wife and his adorable son grab some stones using his small tiny hands and give them to his mother, seemingly asking if he could eat them.

"baby, we cannot eat those." your giggly voice echoes in his ears pleasingly. your baby sensed something that was against his will as his lips formed into a pout and was about to cry when you immediately picked him up to console your poor baby.

"these are rocks." you grabbed the stone on his hand, gently tapping his skin using it. "see? these are hard and sharp too. one stone could hurt you, it could hurt you more if you eat it." you tried to explain it to your son well. sadly, he still didn't buy it.

satsuri let out a wail, tears are also now streaming alongside his face. being a protective mom you are, you immediately console your son while walking towards your husband to also ask for some assistance.

"oh no, my little tough guy is crying. did mama fight you? don't worry, your amazing dad will avenge you." satoru takes his son into his hold, cradling him while giving you a meaningful look.

"hush your trap, why would i even fight my own baby?" you snarl at your husband who was just laughing at your expression. satoru knows you hate it when you're making your child cry. although it is something that you should get used to in order for your child to grow morally, not spoiled.

satoru then looked down at satsuri who was now calm after being cradled in his father's embrace. everytime he would look into his son, he would always say in his mind that they were right — you were right, satsuri is really a carbon copy of him.

the only feature that his son inherited from you is a streak portion of your hair color on the side of satsuri's hair. then the rest, it resembles him.

on the contrary, satoru wished satsuri wouldn't inherit his ignorant, nuisance, troublemaker, and hard headed personality when he was way back younger. the man specifically doesn't want his son to experience the things he does inside the jujutsu world.

basically, all he could have wished and asked for is that satsuri must have inherited your soft, kind, and loving personality. those every trait of yours that made him fall in love with you. and now, that got him staring at his son for too long, hoping that satsuri would grow just like you.

hell, if he could only forbid his son to avoid being a sorcerer, then he would! but he knows in the end that satsuri would be the one who will decide his faith.

"oh, it's three in the afternoon. it's my turn to pick up gumi and miki." suddenly, you wake him up from his daydreaming session. with a hump, you stand up along with satoru.

"let's pick them up together. it would be nice to see satsuri pick up his siblings too." satoru suggested and you liked the idea. without any further, you two head to your car and drive away. you are the driver right now, of course.

"mom!"

as soon as you exit the car, you see tsumiki waving and smiling at you as you watch her skip her way towards you with megumi trailing behind her.

you kneel down to greet them in your arms. "hi, my babies! how's school?" you asked them, still giving the two your big warm hugs.

"it was fine. my friends and i gossip a lot during our break time and i can't wait to share it with you." you are tsumiki's number two gossip buddy (satoru is the first one, definitely) since both of you are female. most likely, there were times where only the two of you would understand since it's a girls thing.

"how about you, gumi?"

"just a normal one." your other baby boy answered, megumi is still wrapping his arms around your body as you sensed the fatigue in his voice.

"come on, let's head back to the car." you're about to stand up but megumi still refuses to let go. smiling to yourself, you know what he wants so you picked him up and carried him in your arms.

immediately, megumi planted his face on the crook of your neck while tsumiki volunteered to carry his bag — what a sweet girl.

"my sweet gumi must be very tired. do you want me to set up a futon in the backseat?" you cooed.

"yes please." megumi snuggles like a kitten in your embrace, making you smile and giggles at his cute tactics.

tsumiki giggles too at his brother's behavior. both of you know megumi was more fond of you among all. ever since satoru bought them home, megumi finds himself getting more attached to you and sees you as his mother figure.

the three of you proceed to the car. as tsumiki opened the door, she was greeted by a man and baby's voice who seemed to be laughing.

"tsuri! you're here!" tsumiki's face instantly grew brighter at the sight of her little brother. while megumi, his head instantly shot up from your shoulder at the sound of his other brother's name mentioned.

"hello satsuri." despite the sleepiness in his voice, there's still a hint of excitement in his voice.

"hey! i was here too!" the other baby — i mean, satoru pouted when his two children didn't even bother to greet him the way they greet satsuri.

megumi instantly snarls at satoru while tsumiki was kind enough to greet him with the same energy. your husband raises his eyebrows when he realizes that megumi was literally clinging on to you, again.

satoru doesn't have a problem with that, but there's a time when megumi would literally steal your attention away from him when it's just both of you. he just feels that megumi was doing it on purpose. behind his back, he knew megumi would smirk at him or even stick his tongue in his face.

"megs, i'm going to bring you down for a moment. i'll just set up the futon for you and tsumiki." when you get approval from your son, you bring him down and start to do your thing with the help of your husband, of course

you saw your three children playing with each other near the car. you told them not to go far away or they'll get into an accident.

"say, i'm not really in the mood to cook. should we take the kids outside for dinner?" you suggest as you flatten out the sheets of the futon. while satoru was busy double checking the safety of the bed.

"sure, it would be nice too since you've done a lot for us everyday. rest is also very important too, hm? don't forget that, my little wifey." you rolled your eyes but still smiled at his cheesy tease, but you knew satoru was just concerned for you, especially.

"okay, let's go home. it's still early and the kids need to do their assignments." you called out for your three kids who are excited to lay down on the set up futon.

your kids instantly find their spot inside as satoru starts the car. it was him driving this time since satsuri wants to be fed from you.

"sweethearts, did you wear the safety belts?" your two babies nodded. whenever you guys would set up the futon, satoru modified the space with safety belts just in case any accidents would happen, the kids would not be harmed.

looking at your children again, you saw megumi was already fast asleep as soon as he lay down. while tsumiki was watching some miraculous ladybug on her ipad. satsuri was unfortunately not with them since he's still a baby and it's very dangerous to let him sit without any supervision of grownups.

"ouch! don't bite too hard on mama, satsuri." you winced when your son bit your nipple a bit harder than the usual sucking, making satoru look at you in worry.

satsuri was now growing his teeth, so it's a double challenge to endure his sucks. thankfully, satoru was there to remind his baby to suck properly even though satsuri could barely register a word.

"satsuri, milkies are supposed to be suck carefully. want me to demonstrate it to you?" your husband is a bastard as he playfully mumbles the last statement, making you glare at him instantly.

"satoru!" if only he's not driving, you would've smacked the hell out of him. satoru just managed to let out a laugh while keeping his eyes on the road.

thank god, megumi was fast asleep and tsumiki was too engaged on her show, while satsuri is still a baby. but that is not an excuse to behave in such a way in front of your children.

"oopsie daisy! i'm so sorry, my wife. didn't mean to be very voluntary." satoru laughed at his own joke. you just snarled at him and just focused on your baby who was getting drowsy at any minute.

the rest of the ride was fine. just satoru humming a pop tune that he heard over the radio, tsumiki is still busy on her show, megumi was snoring lightly, satsuri is now fast asleep too, while you stay as you.

"baby, can we get some cakes? i am craving for some."

"no. you have to wait after dinner." you deadpanned. seems like his sweet tooth is kicking again. it makes you reminisce when you're still pregnant with your youngest. satoru was craving food more than you do and it somehow confused you.

"but baby—"

"the kids would not properly eat their dinner if they proceed to dessert first. you have to wait, satoru."

"okay." the only available choice for satoru is no choice. that's why his pout is longer than usual, good thing you're getting a bit immune to that. but that doesn't mean you're always enduring his puppy eyes.

sooner than later, the whole family was now home. satoru was carrying the sleepy satsuri while you're carrying the sleepy megumi and tsumiki was walking on her while carrying the bags.

satoru refuses to leave his eyes on you as you walk inside the house. he made a comment on how clingy megumi is and you shouldn't be carrying him because the little boy's now growing.

you replied to him that it's fine and you want to carry him while you still can. like he said, megumi was now growing and you want to cherish those moments to its fullest. satoru was softened by your words. but that doesn't mean his concern about you lessened, so he suggests that he would be the one who's going to carry megumi.

however, your middle child refuses to be held by your husband, that's why both of you ain't got no choice again but to let megumi be carried by you.

"you should've just left him sleeping on the pathway." satoru mumbles. you just shoot him a knowing look because another war would break out if megumi found out that satoru talked about him behind his back. thank goodness, megumi was a heavy sleeper.

"you agree with me, right, satsuri? that your older brother should've just sleep outside?" satoru whispers to his son. it was audible to you, so you're not sure if it was intentional for you to hear him say or not.

somehow, it brings a small smile to your lips despite his silliness, you know he didn't mean that at all. stroking megumi's hair just to make sure he's comfy in your embrace, you decided to counter his words.

"and you'll be sleeping outside too if you keep on teaching my son bad behavior and talking crap to my other son too."

part 2?

©luvvixu2023

#SATORU IS SO HMM #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #anime #fanfic #fluff #luvvixu #megumi fushiguro #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk #jjk fluff #megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #tsumiki

731 notes · View notes

povofjustme · 5 months ago

Text

The Queen of Death

(2/?)

Fandom: house of the dragon

You read about it many times as a kid

Legends say the island was filled with the strongest and most dangerous warriors

Men and women

The king and Queen throne and crown were made out of there enemy’s

They believe that they are there own ruler, they don’t need the king of king landing telling them what to do

They wear there colors with pride (purple and black)

“The live will walk but the dead will rule”

Mortensen is the family name - the meaning of death

If you were in war with them, just hope you said goodbye to your family

And you could never find them unless they want to be found (they give off Dothraki vibe but without the rape and slavery)

“Who are you?”

You looked around the beach you landed on, your eyes landed on a tall dark longed hair man and your heart stopped when you looked at the man.

“Am y/n Velaryon, I was flying when a storm hit and I seem to land here”

“Velaryon you said” a different voice come out, he seem to be wearing and crown made of bones

“Yes, will half Targaryen… your grace ” y/n

“And the dragon, yours?” Same voice

“Yes, your grace” y/n

“And you survived the storm?” Same voices

“It seem so… your grace”

While you were talking , many people of the kingdom started to come out to see you and your dragon

“ Well my dear, you seem to be the chosen one. I am king Alejandro Mortensen and this my eldest son, Prince Miguel. Please come inside and make yourself at home. You most be cold”

They welcome you in with open arms

Your got to meet King Alejandro family, his wife Queen Mariana, his second Elders princess Sofia and husband youngest prince Antonio

The Queen had got you a room made and had you changed in a more traditional Mortensen clothing.

Princess Sofia and you were the same size so while trying on clothes and got to know each other a little but you still had your guard up

They had asked you to join them for dinner to get to know you better

King Alejandro (bigger version of khal drogo) became king when he was seven and one and meet the queen when he was two and one. They fell in love and he married her

Queen Mariana (looks like Ellaria Sand) come from a small house. She ran away from a marriage that her father tried to force on her. She found herself in the storm as well and landed on this island. The restless history.

Prince Miguel was the one who found you on the beach. You found out he was a year older than you. And was to inherit his father’s. While looking at Miguel, he had this dark look to him. But every time your eyes met his light up a little.

Princess Sofia always had a smile on her face, with much attitude. She seem to be pulled towards you.

And Prince Antonio how to Playboy feel to him. But very open to you about himself. No filter.

“so y/n, what brings you to the island of death?” Antonio

And you couldn’t hold it in any longer , you spent months at Kings Landing, holding in the words in your head, and you only been to this island for less than a few hours, and the pain and emotions were gone

you felt peace here

So you told them everything

To the cheating husband, the best friend’s baby and you going mute

“ I never wanna go back well maybe when I’m stronger but for now I need to find somewhere to call home”y/n

“ you can stay here as long as you need” Miguel

“Really”y/n

“ we need more warriors like you” king

“ l’m not a-“y/n

“ Yes you are and don’t tell yourself that. I see myself in you y/n, we will help you get stronger. Is that right Miguel?” Queen

and since that day, the queen and king has took you as their own

you’ve missed your mom and dad dearly, but you needed a new start for yourself

days turn into weeks, two weeks, turning into into months to months turning into years

and you changed

Miguel told you about the history of the death island. Whoever is to survive the storm, the dead who believes you to be the chosen one.

His father and great grandfather and his great great great grandfather wife all come from the storm. The women came at their weakest point and at the end became the strongest queens

And now you are a warrior and soon to be a wife

Miguel and you fell in love, you’ve never knew you could after Harwin.

It took you a year for you to open about your feelings

He was always good to you, even with the hard look on his face

He will make sure you eat before practice, ask about your day even on his busiest days. And helped you with the wounds that you got from sword fighting

He got on Vermithor good side and always found away to get the dragon some food without flying back in the storms

He taught you everything you know, to hand on hand combat, to fighting with a sword. With him, you became one of the strongest warriors on the island.

He was known to be the most dangerous human on the island. Killed many people and went to war for the first time when he was one and five and lead them to win (Very much Drogo vibe)

And the queen herself molded you, teaching you their language, helping you learn the traditions.

She pushed you and Miguel together with any chance she got, like she said, she sees herself and you and only wanted the best

So after a few years being on the island, you married the heir to the death island.

Now you are known as Princess Y/n Velaryon Mortensen……

Throughout the years, you and Miguel had three children and one on the way

Your twins boys Jośe and Juan and your baby girl Isabella

You loved your children, only wishing your mother and father could see them

One day, you and Miguel was walking hand-in-hand with your children on the beach, when you saw Vermithor flying away in a hurry

“Momma, where did Ver go” Jośe asked

“I not sure my love but he always come back” y/n

Vermithor didn’t come back for 2 weeks

A note on the side of his saddle

Leana Velaryon is dead…..

@dramioneforevertilltheend @classicsimpforaaronwarner @ayamenimthiriel @hikaerys

(I hoped you like part two, hold on to your ass bc part 3 in going to be something)

143 notes · View notes

fancyfeathers · 19 days ago

Text

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Thirteen -> Next Chapter

Taglist: @jsprien213 @toast-on-dandelioms @plsfckmedxddy @lilyalone @sydneyyyya @yandere-wishes @cxcilla @nemesis-writer @sadslasher13

You remember standing in the corner of some large social hall for some sort of charity gala that was being held that your family was invited to attend, of course an event would never be complete without your family’s presence, especially your father. You could not drink yet so these events could not be dulled down for you in the slightest. You were the only one who came, your brothers and sisters got off from going by covering your father’s patrol until the party was over and you prayed for it to be over so you could go back to the manor. Your father was talking to some old former politician and during their conversation you had been able to slip away or rather your father let you slip away, he knew exactly what you were doing after all he always did.

You recognized a few people at the party, mostly just faces you commonly saw at these sort of events like the mayor, Lucius Fox on occasion, Harvey Dent before his accident, but most of these people really did not know you besides your reputation as Bruce Wayne’s little daughter, his princess, though now that did not fit you much anymore as you were almost eighteen, you were a young woman at this point in your life.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, you turned your head around to the person standing next to you that you failed to notice, Gabriel Christel, your boyfriend that only your mother approved of you having. You glanced around again, your father was still in a conversation with his back facing you and he stood probably a hundred feet away, he would not notice right away that you were gone. You turned to Gabriel and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him along and out of the party and into the back halls of the hotel the party was being held at, your fast walking turning into strolling once you reached where no one would be able to see you.

“You didn’t tell me that you would be here.” You spoke to him with a smile and he laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Last minute invite?”

“No, my mom had a meeting tonight and she sent me to go instead, the heir of the family and all.” He sighed, glancing up at some of the old paintings on the hotel’s walls. “I hoped to talk to some potential models for my mom’s new line but it seems they aren’t exactly interested in talking business with, oh what did she call me again… right, an attractive and single young man.”

“Well one of those two things is certainly not true.” You teased, your arms coming to wrap around his left arm as you walked down the hall, resting your head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re eighteen.”

“Hm… your birthday is in a month, you’ll be an adult too, I’m only two months older than you.”

“I don’t think it really matters if I am an adult or not, my old man hardly lets me out of the house these days, especially after that one Joker incident two weeks ago, so I doubt he’ll let me go to university or anything like that, especially out of state.” You hummed, the vibrations of your voice rumbling against his suit jacket. “Where are you thinking about for college?”

“I think I’m gonna go to Gotham City University.”

“What?” His answer shocked you, he was going to be the valedictorian of your class and especially at your school that was practically a guarantee to go wherever he wanted. “Didn’t you get accepted into a few Ivy league schools or what about the foreign exchange you told me about the other day-”

“I am staying in Gotham because of what is in this city, my family, my future, my inheritance, and most importantly you are here.” You felt your face heat up at his words and he smiled, leaning over to rest his head on top of your own. “If you can’t go somewhere with me then I will stay here with you.”

“You are sometimes too romantic, you know that right?”

“Mmm, ya.” He laughed, you could feel his warm breath tickling your hair and the top of your head. “But is it too romantic to tell you I would burn the world for you?”

“A bit cheesy, and don’t tell my dad that, he would probably never let you within a mile of me again.”

“I would like to see him try.”

…

If you knew what he actually meant by that.

______________________

It was surprisingly cold as Gabriel led you down the hallways or wherever the hell you were, the air felt cold and it did not help that you were only wearing stockings to cover your feet as you walked down the marble floor beneath you, when you were changed out of your suit you were laying in a bed and you don’t exactly wear shoes to bed, there were probably shoes in the room you woke up in most likely in one of the dresser drawers or stored underneath the bed, but you honestly were too out of your own head because of the after effects of the drugs to even thing to look there. So now as you walked down the hallway there was the soft pitter patter of your thin cloth covered feet following behind Gabriels dress shoes which made a soft click against the marble floor

As you turned a corner you noticed there was a vast increase in the temperature which only got warmer as you approached a set of heavy wooden doors. Gabriel let go of your hand so he could push open the set of doors and your eyes went wide with what you saw, honestly you did not know how to even explain it. The room was entirely marble, but on the ground you saw what looked to be red coffins embedded into the marble floor and it was not just a few of them, but rows and rows of red coffins.

“What… what is this?” You watched as Gabriel walked ahead of you, slowly, looking down at the red coffins as he reached up to remove his mask, seeing a gleeful look in his eye as he did so.

“I always felt I recognized your brother from some place, your oldest brother, Richard.” You watched him pause in his tracks, looking down at one particular red coffin, a heavy look of disdain in his eye. “Now my parents never took me to the circus because they found it tacky, but now to say the court has dealings everywhere and well we need something strong to back up our words.”

“These… these are like that assassin…” You glanced down at a red coffin at your feet, your face cringing at the thought of what may be inside, a living person maybe or perhaps something that is already dead or somewhere in between the two, undead or like something similar to a Lazarus Pit that is used by your half brother’s grandfather. “Talons, right? But what does this have to do with Dick?”

“Hmm you know the rhyme… that makes me glad…” His words did not match his emotionless glare but his lack of care in his face was not aimed at you but whoever was inside that red box. “Did you know that your brother was supposed to become a Talon… but then his parents were killed and your father took him in, tragic really he did have so much potential.”

“He… he was a child when that happened…” You paused in your words and slowly turned about the room, taking in the sight of the rows upon rows of perfectly aligned red coffins. “You groom children into becoming assassins… oh my god…”

“We aren’t the only ones who have committed such a sin, besides it is for the greater good, and not all of them were children, and on top of that most of them did this willingly.” Gabriel shook his head, his arms crossing and his grip on his mask growing tighter and you were sure that if it were a more fragile material it might have broken. “I should have known that you would not have understood.”

“You are right… I don’t understand and no one should because this is sick.” There was a moment's pause between your words and you swallowed down hard, maybe too hard that your ears popped a little bit. “I don’t want anything to do with this, this is not helping Gotham, it is destroying it, you are going to rip this city to shreds and nothing will be left standing especially if you try to try to destroy the league… you will not win because they will just keep coming back again and again.”

“And that’s not your problem anymore, after all you did promise me that when we get married you will get rid of the mask and also trust me when I say the other members of the court will not exactly welcome you because of your recent actions, and besides I like seeing your face too much and a mask would just hide that, but if you decided to be transparent with me, even after four years, I should be transparent with you as well.” He took a step forward towards you, spinning around his white owl mask in his right hand. “And do not worry about the League of Assassins my dear, after all when they come into my city and threaten my court, then I will tear them apart limb from limb.”

“You won’t get the chance with Ra’s Al Ghul, he will destroy you…” You glanced around again, wondering why they were in red coffins of all things. Ra’s Al Ghul was immortal because of the Lazarus Pit, but there was no Lazarus Pit in Gotham to your knowledge, and they would not be in coffins if they were mortal or just regular assassins. “...This is because of what you are doing here… Talons are partially immortal aren’t they? That’s why the League is in Gotham, because they found out about this and don’t want a potential threat to their mission.”

“Sometimes I wish you were not so smart, but unfortunately they are indeed not perfect, but after this they will be.” With those words Gabriel just confirmed they do have a weakness, a weakness that would most likely be their undoing, you did not exactly feel bad about killing a bunch of undead assassins. You watched as Gabriel glanced around the coffins as if trying to find a certain one as he walked over to you, his hand coming to snake around your waist. “I know your brother’s great grandfather is around here somewhere, and I believe I remember hearing about a certain one of his targets… your great great grandfather if I am correct, funny isn’t it? Family history.”

“I really do not find it that funny.” You also did not find it exactly funny that the League of Assassins were your allies now. You mentally paused, you did not have your things that you had when you were kidnapped, which included the scarf Talia gave you on behalf of her father, the sight of it would definitely ring alarms for any member of the League of Assassins. “Gabriel…”

“Yes?”

“I had a scarf with me under my suit… Do you have it?”

“Hmm… I do not, it must have fallen out, I can always buy you a new one, love.”

“No it’s fine… it was just from someone important.”

It was only a matter of time before one of them found that scarf and either Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia Al Ghul would lose it and come looking for you and you would make your escape before the smoke cleared. The worst case scenario was if you were not able to get away in time and Ra’s or Talia decided to grab you like a kitten by the scruff of your neck and make the decision that you were not able make choices for yourself after somehow getting yourself kidnapped after you decided to lie to Damian and sneak out to Arkham Asylum. Honestly, you did not want to see an upset Ra’s Al Ghul or Talia Al Ghul, for all you knew you could be waking up halfway across the world in a compound of the League of Assassins.

______________________

Clove stood on top of the building, patrolling and investigating, paired off with Robin and Nightwing. It was nearing dawn and Clove at least had never been out on patrol for this long before, she yawned, her arms stretching up like a cat and both heads of the young men turned to her and your friend went red in the face. “Sorry, long night, you all know how it is.”

“Ya, we do.” Nightwing replied, patting her on the back as they walked across the empty rooftop, attempting to figure out where you went and find a path you may have left behind. There was another long draw of silence before Nightwing spoke up again. “You don’t seem the type to be doing this sort of thing, you seem like a good kid, why are you here?”

“I… I don’t really like talking about my past… but it’s been awhile since it happened…” Clove sighed, crossing her arms, normally she would not talk about this sort of thing but the exhaustion and stress was finally getting to her. “My mom died a few years back from a terminal disease, it’s genetic so chances I’ll get it too. I was tired of being treated like I was gonna break if I breathed wrong, I wasn’t sick yet so decided I wanted to do something useful with my life before I go. The Police Academy wouldn’t take me because I didn’t pass their physical exam at the time so now I’m here, definitely would pass it now.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been hard for you.”

“You’re not sorry, after all you treat your sister the exact same way.” Clove pushed Nightwing’s hand away, walking off closer to the roof’s edge to move on. “She’s told us the stories, but actually it was worse for her.”

The two other vigilantes watched her swing off the rooftop and Damian grew a scowl on his face at Clove’s all too real words, he glanced up at the older hero and Nightwing had an uncomfortable look on his face as he watched Clove swing onto another rooftop. “I don’t like her.”

“Give it a rest, she’s helping us.”

______________________

Bruce walked back into his shared bedroom, it was easily mid morning by now and Bruce was only forced back upstairs to rest by Alfred with the promise that Barbara and Tim would work with Mr. Austen to try to follow any leads on your location before they all head out again. Your -;/;mother was sitting up in bed, having been oblivious to the current situation of your disappearance, as far as she knew you had left of your own freewill and they were just trying to pin you down again. She was reading a newspaper and was still in her pajamas, clearly having woken up.

“Good Morning, Bruce.” She spoke up, she set her newspaper aside on the side table rather quickly as Bruce stepped over to press a kiss just above her brow. He had already showered and changed from patrol so he slid into bed alongside his wife. “Long patrol tonight, did something happen?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now.” He groaned and wrapped one of his muscular arms under her arm and up her back, pulling her close to him, tucking her head under his chin. “Just go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

She honestly did not want to go back to sleep, one of the many things she hated about her marriage was the messed up sleep schedule she got from sleeping in the same bed as Bruce, coming home in the early mornings and just wanting to hold her when he was drifting off as if he was scared she was going to disappear all over again like she did when she called off their original engagement over twenty years ago.

“Hm… Alfred got you the paper already?” Bruce spoke, reaching for the newspaper but in a quick reaction your mother pulled him close, wrapping her own arms around him as if an attempt to stay warmer. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, it was not unusual for her to do this especially when the manor could be quite cold, but it was her accelerated heart rate that indicated to him that something was most definitely wrong. Bruce just let out a heavy sigh before he shifted, sitting up in bed and letting go of his wife and she could only watch as Bruce reached over for the newspaper, and when he picked it up there was an additional weight to it, and out of the newspaper fell a piece of paper, a letter, but no envelope so it meant that it was hand delivered, someone did not want risking anyone reading the contents of it. Bruce picked it up the letter and glanced the contents over, words and phrases like ‘your daughter’, ‘Arkham Asylum’, ‘divorce’, ‘blackmail’, ‘potential abuse case’ caught is eye long with the handwriting, it was clearly Harvey Dent, he must have bribed a guard at Arkham to get it delivered.

“Bruce, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it right now.” Bruce cut off his wife, he stood up again from bed, he did not even look at her. Bruce knew that it was not his wife who made contact, it would have been impossible for her to do so, this was the work of you, their daughter. “I have to make some calls to the head of Arkham Security and to the GCPD, just… just stay here right now, we need to talk later.”

83 notes · View notes

pokemonshelterstories · 2 months ago

Note

Ages ago one of my friends in Unova inherited their mother's Clefable after she passed away. To spare it the noise and mess that comes with construction and moving out, they found a shelter to temporarily house it, but when they wanted their pokemon back, the shelter dragged their feet saying they didn't think they could care for a Clefable. I call bullshit, both their mom and them always made sure to live in remote areas so it wouldn't get overwhelmed by the noises of human cities. One day Clefable wasn't there anymore. Freed from abuse to live its full potential, they said. My friend tried to press charges but the case was always left to go cold; they had to grieve again and move on, but truth be told if shelters can do that and did so to separate my pokemon and I, I'd be on the news. I recently asked a worker at my local shelter (in another region) about it and they replied that maybe I'm misremembering and Clefable really was unhappy and I'm filling in my memory with reasons to be mad, but you can't make "freeing pokemon to live their full potential" up. Was this fucked up or was the shelter worker I talked to right ? Can shelter force owners to let go of their pokemon ? Honestly this made me avoid them, I don't really want to help make this happen to someone else even if I agree it's not normal to think like this. I trust your opinion more, hoping you can light my lantern.

some shelters will indeed allow you to put your pokemon into temporary boarding with them in case of emergencies...but to be honest, it really sounds to me like your friend was taken in by a "shelter" run by team plasma. well-run shelters will NEVER release a pokemon unless it's brought in as a wild rehab case. we also can't just decide that you aren't capable of taking care of a pokemon you already own, because that constitutes pokemon theft. we can refuse to adopt a pokemon out to you, even if you were the one to surrender it- but if you're just boarding a pokemon, that pokemon is under your ownership and belongs to you. rangers and police officers are the only people who can seize a pokemon from its trainer based on welfare concerns, so the most a typical shelter could do is make a welfare check report.

these shelters/rescues were a common ruse used by team plasma back in their height, unfortunately, and your friend is not alone in losing a pokemon this way. i imagine the reason why the case never made progress is because team plasma had some very talented legal experts working for them. it's likely that, somewhere in her boarding contract, there was a clause giving them the right to confiscate the pokemon if they believe it's not in the pokemon's interest to return to its trainer. i'm very sorry this happened to her. unfortunately, outside of public government-run facilities like ours, there's not a ton of regulation into who can claim to be a rescue. it's always super important to research any shelter or rescue you go to as a result. there are tons of awesome private shelters/rescues run by incredible nonprofits and individuals! but not every facility is run by people with the best interest of pokemon and their trainers at heart.

#charlietalks #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokemon adoption #the world of pokemon

108 notes · View notes

fumifooms · 9 months ago

Text

Chilchuck, family & alcoholism

Collection of thoughts and speculation on Chil’s upbringing, his dynamic with his family and how alcoholism ties into it all. If you want the groundwork info on Chil’s background I recommend my masterpost on his family, here beyond a summary of the facts it’s really just me speculating from the crumbs we get of his parents and siblings, how it’s all affected him and in turn affected his own wife and kids etc etc.

There’s nothing more I’d like on mother’s day than to speculate about Chilchuck’s maladaptive attachment style. I’m fascinated by how distant everyone is and how much he’s been devoted to them all despite having been so absent. Intergenerational trauma get over here

Actually it’ll be easier if I make a rundown here too, it’s just stuff I reiterate from my masterpost tho.

Tiny table of contents: 1- rundown: family facts 2- rundown: alcoholism 3- dad 4- parenting 5- daughters 6- wife

^ Every time his dad gets mentioned. His mom never gets mentioned. His siblings I think are only ever mentioned in this extra, and then there are more ambiguous relatives cameos.

We know is hometown isn’t Kahka Brud, but we’re not sure wether he moved there upon getting his own house (presumably around when he got married at 13), or if it’s only after his wife when he rented out his place to relatives then rented the place in Kahka Brud.

If he rented it out to relatives, maybe that meant it was in his hometown? Especially if he and his siblings are "almost strangers" so presumably he doesn’t really keep in touch with his family. And I mean, he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in 4 years so you can imagine how he’s like with his more distant family…

Additionally half-foots and Chil are very coded to be from an impoverished opressed working class people. So that’s the context.

I’ll say that I mentioned intergenerational trauma at the beginning, and I def think the distrust of elves is part of that, but here I want to focus on the interpersonal effects rather.

Copy pasting my masterpost thoughts overall: Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then a free range parenting sort of thing.

We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have caring people or had a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it’s the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others, they instilled somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he’s younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught.

I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal, it being worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the “alcohol” section of his Adventurer’s Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn’t hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home and was still around when his father died, not unlike how Chil’s wife was implied to be a housewife. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to speculate about too. Mostly though I think it’s big family because it’s just sorta what happens when you regularly have sex and you don’t have contraception, being poor often makes family planning harder for various reasons and leads to more children.

Alcoholism context rundown:

Good Chilchuck analysis baseline here. Alcohol seems to be his main stress reliever/coping mechanism, especially for how emotionally constipated he is, and his job is being stressed about his party’s safety. Then he also mentions as a changeling that having his senses dulled feels relaxing to him, further confirming alcohol, as a drug that dulls senses, is something that he likes for the intoxication aspect and feels it’s relaxing. Alcohol also acts as a hunger suppressant, so it for sure has played a role in his dieting and unhealthy eating/diet habits, especially since he shows the instinct to drink to soothe hunger, all of that about how going hungry for 3 days used to feel manageable. Chil dieting info compiled here.

Chilchuck is at his most effortlessly cheerful when drunk or drinking. Compilation of every time he was drunk here.

And to be clear, a cheerful drunk is still a drunk. He literally will drink anytime he gets the opportunity to even if he’s aware overdrinking leads to health problems and death. Like canonically. He does NOT see how drinking should be a problem and does not seek to show restraint with it.

Dad of the dad

Marcille and Chilchuck having a talk on how losing a dad be like "You lost your dad young too…? I know how it is, it must have hit you hard…" "No not really tbh. Do you want lasagna or chicken for dinner?" <- either genuinely doesn’t feel much about his dad’s death or has 10 layers of repression, idk which is worse

I think Chil not making a big deal out of his dad’s death, not having worries in following into his footsteps that way in the least, is super interesting.

As a buddy @saccharineomens puts it: " I kinda imagine chilchuck and his dad didn't have a bad relationship, but in general chilchuck is so blase about drinking (he sees it as a delightful time, a wonderful thing! he wouldn't mind dying doing something he loved!) that he's not very upset about his dad's passing? like "yeah, he died, but i was already an adult, he was an adult, he made his choices, i make my choices, it's cool" " And I’ll nitpick that we don’t know how old he was when his dad died, I always assumed it was pretty early since Chil left home when he got married, and like I’ve gone into he doesn’t seem to be the keep in touch type. It’s on the table though, and he could have learned about it through letter if nothing else and that contributes to the "meh" reaction.

And that is very Chilchuck, the whole "we made our choices, it is how it is, he died doing something he loved", and you can totally believe that that’s the crux of it, but I do think the nonchalance hints at the family overall being distant and not only the siblings, that there’s dysfunctional shenanigans going on in there more than just… Healthy coping and having moved on.

I wonder when Chil first drank… And I wonder how he came to realize he liked alcohol a lot. His father probably gave him sips… Or he stole them

No because, with how disaffected he is about his father and siblings I could definitely see him having started to kind of numb himself/dissociate with the help of alcohol in that home environment that felt so… Either devoid of feelings or too messy to get attached. I can totally see his family being one that encourages dealing with feelings by bottling them up.

Because too… We saw him have a family/community feast of some sort presumably when he was a kid, in that chapter cover, so it’s not like there’s no warmth or sense of family at all, but then like… What went wrong? If as I theorize that girl with short black hair in that panel is his future wife, since she’s his childhood friend and all, what if his family/home life was always kind of cold and distant, even when gathered and cheery or despite those occasions? So then it’s like, at the family gatherings, she’s the most important person there to him, the one he actually connects to the most, the warmest presence he has…….. Someone he jokes around with that feels on the same speed as him, that doesn’t have the same connotations as everyone else present, a bit of a haven, someone different, a breath of fresh hair and a regained sense of childhood… Spitballing of course of course

I feel like they had a pretty big family and they were poor and such so there were always chores to be done etc, so their household might have operated like a mini busiess of sorts where everyone’s too busy, always has this and that to do and the mother asks them to go do tasks. I used to think it might be more of a neglect situation, where the kids are expected to provide for themselves and so cook their own meals and whatnot, both parents distant, but I don’t think so with the feast illustration. Chil at the beginning of canon used to see eating as a practical thing more than anything, you have to eat to live but don’t eat much or your weight will make your job more dangerous, might as well skip meals and have beer instead, etc etc. So the thought that he doesn’t know how to cook all that well despite this speculated background where he cooked for himself and keeps cooking minimalistic, since he does tell Senshi he taught him about cooking, is fair, but still… There could definitely be a situation where his older siblings were pushed into a parental role too, where they helped with the food and raising the younger siblings etc etc. As mentioned, the age gap between siblings may play into the dynamic as well. But on this front I have less ideas…

So yes my general take on Chil’s family is that everyone was too busy to emotionally connect as much as is normal, the parenting leaving things to be desired with alcoholism and emotional neglect.

Fathering

And I think that’s especially interesting considering he hasn’t been keeping in touch with his daughters either. It’s "they’re independent now" and that’s kinda it. His daughters haven’t sent him letters or visited him or tried to make him talk to their mom again. It does feel like with his own parents and siblings to me, where people are almost strangers, where relationships grow apart and everyone shrugs and goes ‘that’s how things are’. Is it that everyone including all his daughters gave up on trying to keep in touch, or is it that they all went "well divorced or not he’s absent, this is our normal tbh", and which is worse?

So yes, I think his relationship with his daughters is probably similar to his relationship with his parents, sort of hands off. Chil's dad was probably not a good dad but probably not quite a bad dad. A definitive He Was There, to quote another friend heh

Imo the thing with Chil is that he was pretty absent bc of work travels to dungeon dive, right. He’s working hard to provide for his family but in the process he’s not spending much time with them, slowly making a gap grow between him and them as they drift apart and change as people. He’s a career dad who never realized spending time with his family was more important and threw his pager into the ocean— But also here’s the thing!! You want to say being his family is more important, but money is arguably more important! They’re poor, they don’t have the privilege of free time as much. Sure he’s not there, but he is providing for them what they need to keep living and growing healthily. Similarly, you want to say Chil should stop doing harsh dieting for weight management, but, he has a point, maybe starving is still preferable than dying in traps. Of course the ideal would be to change jobs, but again, life is a struggle and that’s not always an option.

^ Truly the classic "if you don’t listen to me, your parent, a cryptid is gonna kidnap you!" international experience………

He is so so so the "What? My way of parenting is kinda bad? But my father raised me like that, and look how great I turned out!" <- emotionally dysfunctional…….. "Pshhh what do you mean having an alcoholic parent negatively affects you? My father was an alcoholic too and look at me" 🤡

All of it was behavior normalized to him. And listen, I’m saying this but not as like, shirking of his part in it. This isn’t a teen or young adult, he’s middle aged, he’s become the one giving and not receiving the generational trauma. He’s chosen to never think deeper on the topic.

And like, he himself is so indifferent to his father and what their relationship was like, of course he wouldn’t notice if a parenting choice wasn’t great for his daughters. He doesn’t have a relationship with his dad, he’s not (at least not consciously) traumatized by him, so from his perspective it’s mission success! He got raised decent enough 👍⭐️ Except he doesn’t realize that like, not particularly caring if he died is sign of a problem between them in itself… And this even as he remains somewhat of an important figure in his life, especially since that’s who he sees on the other side of the life river in the ghost chapter. It’s implicitly the biggest instance of loss through death Chilchuck has in his life I think.

But despite it all he obviously does love his family a lot, right. So I do believe that like, while he has imperfect standards when it comes to parenting he still tries to be better than his dad was, that even if it’s necessary that he has a lot of long work travels, he spends time with them. And there’s sort of this dissonance that he’s both "it doesn’t matter wether i’m here or not, they’ll live, they’re tough girls. Oh they didn’t like my scolding earlier? It’s just how kids are" dismissive and "I love them so much and I want them to have a good life. I want to do my best by them" devoted and so so caring. And like that’s why he works so damn hard, he does it for them, but also that’s why the girls grew up with an absentee father and aughhhh AUGHHHH the unsolvable dilemma of it all Chilchuck in Dunmeshi truly represents like, the harshness of reality & the world and how sometimes things will just suck no matter what, and then of course balancing that with Marcille in their shared arc where she tacks on "And despite that there is beauty everywhere even in the small and menial things, despite that your flawed relationships and dreams are still worth fighting for" ie giving reconciling with his wife a shot, etc.

All that said I think the very strict "you’re gonna grow up to have a stable job by god, young miss" attitude, those strong work ethics he highly values and focuses on and no doubt tried to instill in is own kids, is something he somewhat inherited from his own upbringing and parents.

In my masterpost bit on his parenting, I said I don’t think he’d do any kind of corporeal punishment, but. I do wonder about spanking aftee all. It can be so so easy to rationalize it… Sigh

Daughter pov

Again, my general interpretations for the daughters are written in my masterpost. I think Patti knows her father the least and is the one least worried about jobs and stability and least settled down as a result. Flertom is the more social one who I imagine tended to be the one worried about her parents’ couple and their emotions the most. And Meijack… Ohh Meijack.

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it and still you stand next to your mother just as quiet and just as stoic during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight out of mind

Thinking of those posts about how kids never forget and during the "draw your family!" things at school, some of the kids draw their working parents seperate from the rest of them...

Absent father and when he’s at home you get the crumbs of him that you get and you’re grateful for it and that’s that <333

She doesn’t know how much he loves them bc he hasn’t showed them in a long time </3

The horror of drunk Chil in my fics is often about what in this state he can’t do rather than what he could do, how someone who’s as proud of his skills and work ethics as he is has truly changed, not comprehending how he could become so sloppy or how he could allow himself to get like this, marred the values he preaches above all else. It’s in the way that he fumbles with doorknobs, that he could never lockpick a door if you were to lock it, and it both being your salvation and bringing you extreme distress at the thought of it all. His footsteps usually featherlight now sound heavy as stone, like a troll’s.

You know the thing that gets me so bad with alcoholism angst is when people describe the drunk person as a stranger. Often making a metaphor that they’re monsters, have some monster they shapeshift into uncontrollably once in a while, as a way to split the unreconciliable halves of the person sober and drunk in your vision of them……. It gets me soooo bad Little Puckpatti growing up on tales of trolls kidnapping disobedient kids and replacing them with doubles so no one even knows they’re gone… Coming face to face with a drunk Chilchuck that roams the halls of the house with heavy steps in the night, because she wanted to go drink a glass of water, too thirsty to sleep………..

And this is where I reveal that I wrote a fic about just that!! Trolls that thump and tiptoe through the night Mei @ Chil, You made me of stone and still every day you wear me down and chip away at me bit by bit

In the end notes I describe my takes and interpretations: With Mei I tried to give the sense of a kid who sacrifices some parts of childhood to feel closer to her parent, like not playing games to spend more time with him no matter how empty, or wanting to be worthy in his eyes. With Fler, since she was the one in canon to take in their mother and write Chil a letter explaining the situation, I feel like she’s always been the one most involved and aware of the problems in their family. The one most there to emotionally support or to understand what the vibes in a room meant. Puckpatti I think knows her father the least, since with time I think Chilchuck was more and more away from work and more and more cynical like the flashbacks of younger him dungeon diving. I think because of her not minding unstable odd jobs that she’s the most passive, that she’s the most go with the flow. I do also love when Mei is the one most aware of her parents’ flaws and most critical as the eldest, but not in this fic. Meijack grows up to never touch a drop of alcohol, what people joke is the one difference between her and her father. Flertom drinks, too much sometimes, but she considers drinking should be a social activity rather than a habit. Puckpatti only drinks on special occasions when she has the chance.

They already don’t have that much time together because of his work, I wonder how big of a percentage the amount of memories the daughters have of him are when he’s not himself truly… How they kinda reconcile it all. It’s their normal.

And the thing that’s gutting too, is that Chil always looks so so much more open, relaxed, cheerful and happier when drunk than he usually is. He doesn't know how to get his defenses down without alcohol

"you're all that's good"

Because we do see how he truly used to not be so closed off and bitter. But distrust and fearing for betrayals from both coworkers and then his wife aka the person who’s supposed to be closest to him (he doesn’t even have close family besides his daughters. Does he even have close friends) turned him into what he is now. He was so cheerful!! Happy and trusting and optimistic.

He leaves and she left

God there’s the whole ‘wife leaving him’ trauma too is the thing… It had to have fucked him up so bad like no wonder he got paranoid and decided not to open up to ANYONE like. He never saw it coming is the scariest thing. He didn’t expect her to just up and leave. He didn’t see the warning signs. He won’t know if it’s coming this time either.

….. But then also, why he didn’t reach out to her (besides hurt) was because it was a petty silence treatment, like "oh she left without saying a word? Fine well I won’t reach out to her either" <- man who is so not fine and collected about it. It’s been FOUR YEARSSSSSSS I wonder if he always was like… "This week she’s gonna send a letter. … Ok fine, this month she’s gonna crack. … Within the year she’ll come crawling back." and it’s a bit why it was allowed to go on for this long unchecked like… Why he still considers her his wife even though functionally she’s more of an ex by that point after 4 years.

I can never stop thinking about him and his wife they’re fucking crazyyy. Him not reaching out to her started as a silent treatment from frustration. She never reached out to him either, she just up and left, didn’t even leave or send one last letter she’s just gone and has left this all behind, the house and everything in it. It’s been 4 years but he still considers her his wife and considers themselves only "estranged", "due to circumstances we haven’t seen each other in years". His face in the panel he said this is interesting too, trying to be casual but defensive and exasperated, already dreading the judgement and questions. He moved out of his house to rent a place in Kahka Brud instead. How much of him not reaching out was avoidance… Guilt, frustration, sadness, confusion, just procrastinating and dread and fear of a rejection more concrete, or something else… Maybe realizing he doesn’t miss her as much as he should, not enough to chase after her or try to get her back, just resigning himself to it… Is he a bad husband, is he a bad person? Should they reconcile?

Not seeing it coming… It’s half trust, that this person who’s so dear to you could never just up and leave and hurt you like that, half entitlement, thinking that she would never think of leaving, and third it’s blinding himself to the warning signs, not wanting to believe or acknowledge them. Because like, there WERE some, he said she "suddenly fell into a bad mood on the way back [from the outing]" and I don’t think he’s too dumb to be aware that something was off, he literally just dismissed it and then went surprised pikachu face when it turned out things were indeed off.

Part of it is definitely, how do you even react if your wife walks out on you without warning. If it happened to me I think that I wouldn’t reach out for a while either, wait for them to reach out to me first, give them space. As I put it in one of my marchil wips, "I respect your right to be rid of me too much to try and shackle you to me if you want to leave". Inaction is easier than admitting he’s scared to check and find out that the worst case scenario is true. It’s been years and he still hasn’t worked it out why she left. Do you think that’s on purpose. That he doesnt want to know for sure. It’s so so so scary to try and do anything about it

He said he didn’t reach out right away when she left because he was petty and wanted to give her the silence treatment back. Ok but is it that he blames her for their marriage falling apart or does he blame himself and he’s just misdirecting the conflicted feelings? Did he not reach out because a part of him was too scared to know why she left or if she would refuse to come back? Did he just think that she’d come back on her own, and things would get fixed while still staying unsaid and unconfronted like they always have, the first month, then the next and the next, until it was a year in and it sunk in that oh, maybe she wasn’t coming back?

He seems genuine here when he says that he was angry about it and gave her the silent treatment, but it is an habit of his to lie to make himself look worse instead of showing vulnerability, so who knows.

He is so so scared of being affected by relationships. Same thing with his compulsive habit to disguise his worry for anger. It’s why he doesn’t want people to have expectations of him, "I’m a coward I’m selfish", because then they can’t be disappointed, they can’t be surprised if he bites, they can’t leave when you lose what they’ve been staying for.

He has avoidant tendencies too. Every time there’s an interpersonal issue he just accepts it’s out of his control immediately. He’s passive when it comes to relationship problems, just like with coworkers, relationships are a ticking time bomb to him, and he just wants to be left out of it and come out unscathed. It comes back to his pessimism. He doesn’t think that like, things could be better. According to him life is tough and cruel, you accept your lot in life and make the best out of it and that’s it. If people are scummy you don’t whine about how unfair it is, you close yourself off and work to not be taken advantage of again and adapt. So then with his wife, when Marcille is like "Have you tried… Talking?" it’s such a crazy idea that it might work at all, that he could have the power to fix things… And that’s why it’s such a big deal when he goes "Alright I’ll try… I don’t know if it’ll go as well as in the stories, but I’ll try". That CRUMB of allowing himself to be hopeful is so huge

Honestly for the longest time I misread this bit, I thought she left in the night like how Marcille framed it, but no she left after he left for work. She left after he left again.

The way it’s told, it really sounds like Chilchuck just came home from work, stayed probably a couple of days in which they went to that outing together, then left for work again right away/soon after and it’s like. Was that outing the most special thing you guys did together. You came home from like a month of work, you had one outing where she ended up having a bad time, y’all didn’t talk about it further and then you left for another couple of weeks. Are you kidding me

Your married life is waiting for your husband to come home, spending mediocre time together, being shut down when you voice discontentment, and things being left unaddressed before he leaves again.

She left when he was gone for work, but did she leave the day of, or did she flip flop on it and took a while before working up the strength to leave? Was she waiting to see if he’d say anything before leaving and when he didn’t that was the last straw?

Chilchuck trying to prove a point that half-foots can make it out there, trying to rely more on himself because that’s the only person he can trust. His wife feeling like he's leaving her behind (because he does. over and over and over and over.) This guy just keeps throwing himself into work because he thinks it's what's best for everyone. Hey sir neglecting emotional needs can be kinda detrimental to everyone involved, I think you might wanna know that ^ quotes courtesy of @soappox

And to come back to alcoholism for a bit, alcoholism is alcoholism, and someone asked why I thought that a Chilchuck with depression would drink and cope through alcohol, since drinking seems to be something cheerful to him. It does puzzle me a bit but it’s worth going over, so… I don’t think him using drinking as a coping mechanism is far fetched at all. Cheerful drunks that are alcoholic still can absolutely use alcohol in ways like that. If something makes you happier, or even just more numb which translates to you feeling more free etc etc, then I definitely think it tracks that he’d keep drinking. Like personally I do think he’d drink a lot after his wife left him, and in rough patches like that. Depression -> not wanting to have to think, the days are blurring together and you either don’t want to be conscious or you want to feel something etc etc -> drinking for the alcohol. Alcoholics tend to be, well, dependent on alcohol. If something bad happens etc they’re usually more likely to go harder on it rather than stop. We can debate on when and why Chilchuck first started to drink but it’s straight up his favorite food now and it’s deeply ingrained in his life, in his favorite outings and activities and priorities and moods and meals. A CHEERFUL DRUNK IS STILL A DRUNK!!! They drink to get happy not drink because they are happy, though obviously the two can have overlap.

Chil represses sooo much. His solution to interpersonal conflict and feelings is just don’t think about it and dull your feelings & senses to everything ✨ I love him. I need to kill him with hammers Like the other day I was thinking about an AU where he might have ran away from his neglectful home or something, but then I remembered he deals with everything including his family by dulling his feelings and senses to things 🫠 He wouldn’t leave

I’d say he doesn’t look troubled by loss through death, moreso loss through mistakes. His nightmare is his daughters dying yes, but moreso them being killed, there’s an axe in the wall etc, it’s about having failed to protect them.

If he can’t fuck something up or if he’s already fucked it up there’s this pacifying sense that he can’t have the rug pulled from under him, because that’s what having connections is, having a wife isn’t an insurance it’s a rug waiting to be pulled. And his brand is sort of Flawed Mr Mistakes Man so he’s kinda been having to cope lol. I do think he throws himself into workaholism, because it’s sort of the only way to live he knows, making yourself capable and useful and spending his days working like that, less time to think, too tired to think. Senses dulled, senses that are usually too sharp, cutting with clarity that he prefers ignoring and avoiding. Work is something he doesn’t have to feel through, something that gives him pride and self-esteem, something through all the danger and life or death risk feels safer, emotionally. No one taught him how to deal with things another way, it’s always been suck it up and work.

Conclusion

Stop smoking we love you and we don’t want you to die

No drinking will not externalize your feelings no it won’t vent them out well please Chilchuck ple-ea-ease…….

</3 They should invent an alcoholism that doesn’t make you dysfunctional and hard to be around

^ Drunk, by The Living Tombstone

I’ve been thinking about enneagrams and Chil is 6w7 highkey. Becomes 3 when stressed, a little 8 but it’s more that he wants security so much that he becomes paranoid rather than having the core of an 8 y’know. I haven’t dug into it for quotes yet but this paper goes hard if you’re curious.

Dropping my relevant Spotify playlists here bc why not: Chilchuck & his wife, marchil angst

#I’m allergic to making short casual speculation posts apparently #Dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #chilchuck’s family #Chilchuck’s wife #theories #meta #analysis #It was mother’s day when I decided to gather my old discord message and work on posting this so. Not fixing that intro #I’m always too late </3 #Marcille singing A Girl Worth Fighting For @ Chilchuck #Spoilers #i lost half of this post TWICE. This is my Joker arc #Hopefully i can finish my web weaving about this today #Chilchuck is so cool I wish dads were real #Chilchuck “my family doesn’t need me” tims #This almost killed me it’s not even the topic it’s bc tumblr wanted me dead. This silly post. It was supposed to be CASUAL and SHORT #Analysis #i just ended up talking about chil a lot again. Give me excuses to talk about him more #Character analysis #meijack #Puckpatti #flertom #fanfic #Fumi rambles

226 notes · View notes

lilmisshellfireswritingblog · 1 month ago

Text

Make the Friendship Bracelets

Pairings: Rockstar!EddieMunson x Reader

Based off a Tweet regarding the tattoos and friendship bracelets Kieran Culkin was wearing at the Golden Globes saying it was Eddie as a girl dad at the Grammy's. I knew I had to write it.

A/N: This is probably the most healing thing I have ever written as someone with daddy issues my gods. I hope you like it too.

Warnings: Pure fluff. Tooth rotting sweetness. Dad!Eddie.

Separator banner credit to: sweetmelodygraphics.

It was a cool, crisp February night in 1990 and the soft hum of the television echoed through the living room where you sat with your four-year-old daughter, Melody, curled up in your lap. The Grammy Awards were in full swing, filling the screen with glitz and glamour as the biggest names in the music industry gathered to celebrate their successes.

For you and Melody, however, the awards weren’t just about watching the famous faces or listening to the grand speeches from musicians. Tonight was about Eddie — your husband, her father. Corroded Coffin was nominated for Best New Artist and you couldn’t be prouder. This moment had been a long time coming. You’d watched Eddie pour his heart and soul into the band for years, sacrificing so much just to get to this point and now, he was at the Grammy Awards, receiving the recognition he always deserved with his first ever nomination.

You were sure there would be more to follow in the years to come.

“Mommy, is Daddy gonna win?” Melody asked, her voice full of innocent excitement. She didn’t really understand the significance of the awards or the industry, but she knew one thing: Daddy was her hero.

You smiled, brushing her messy curls she definitely inherited from Eddie from her face. “I hope so, sweetie,” you said, giving her a soft squeeze.

Melody beamed up at you, her bright eyes wide with trust. “He’s the best, right?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Yes, he is, Mel Bel.”

The moment was almost surreal. The camera cut to the stage and you saw Eddie for the first time tonight after he left the house. His wild hair, his signature leather jacket, and that mischievous grin that never quite left his face… He was so Eddie, and yet, tonight, even more so if it were even possible

He was about to win a Grammy. You could feel it.

“And the Grammy for Best New Artist goes to... Corroded Coffin!” The announcer’s voice rang out, and Melody squealed in delight, her tiny body bouncing on your lap.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she cried, her hands reaching for the screen as if she could touch him through the TV. Her face lit up with the kind of joy only a child could feel, pure and untainted by the weight of the world.

You laughed softly, hugging her close as Eddie stood from his seat, grinning from ear to ear. His bandmates cheered around him, and you could see the excitement in their eyes as they made their way to the stage. Eddie was already thanking the band and the fans and making his speech, but it was his last words that made your heart skip a beat.

“....Especially to my daughter, Melody,” Eddie said, his voice carrying through the microphone. His eyes glanced directly into the camera, and for a brief moment, it was like the whole world melted away. “I love you, kid. This is for you.”

You felt the warmth of pride fill your chest as you looked down at Melody. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and she was absolutely glowing with joy. “Mom! He said my name! He said my name!” she squealed, her little hands clapping together in excitement.

You nodded, your heart swelling. “He sure did, sweetie. He’s so proud of you.”

But then something else caught your eye — something that made your heart stop and your breath catch in your throat. As Eddie held the Grammy, his arm extended, gesturing toward the audience, his sleeves slid up. That’s when you saw it.

His arms were covered — not in the usual tattoos you knew he had, but in bright, colorful, exaggerated fake tattoos. Dragons, flames, flowers, and skulls in every neon and pastel hue. The tattoos were so vividly out of place that you couldn’t help but smile.

But also on his wrist were the friendship bracelets Melody had made over the past week — the same ones she had spent hours weaving together with tiny beads before handing it over to you to tie the string into a knot.

Melody had made him a set for the Grammys and Eddie had worn them proudly, as though they were the most important thing in the world.

One bracelet had the word DAD spelled out in tiny, colorful beads. Another had stars and hearts, a masterpiece of Melody’s four-year-old imagination. Yet another with Corroded Coffin misspelled as Coroded Cofin. The mismatched colors, the mismatched beads — they were perfect. It was like a small piece of Melody’s world, her love, her joy, wrapped around Eddie’s wrist for all the world to see.

Melody gasped, her hands covering her mouth. “Mom, look! Daddy’s wearing them!” she cried, her voice filled with awe and pride. “He’s wearing my bracelets! The ones I made for him!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “Yes, sweetie, he’s wearing them,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “He loves them. He wouldn’t leave without them. I told you!”

Eddie didn’t seem to notice the camera zooming in on his bracelets or the fake tattoos that were so obviously out of place. He was too busy soaking in the moment and the excitement of the win. His attention was entirely on the band and the fans, on the Grammy Award in his hand, and on the world that had just opened its arms to him.

For you, the moment wasn’t just about the Grammy. It wasn’t about the fake tattoos or the glamour. It was about the fact that Eddie, in the middle of this massive achievement, had made room for Melody — her love, her creativity, her heart — to be part of it. It was as though, even in the middle of a world so far removed from the one you and Melody lived in, Eddie had made sure to carry a piece of home with him.

Melody was still jumping up and down on the couch, her eyes glued to the screen. “I’m gonna make him more!” she said, her voice full of determination. “Next time, I’m making him a whole sleeve of tattoos! Maybe even one on his head!”

You chuckled, wiping your eyes. “I think he’d love that, sweetie.”

As Eddie wrapped up his speech, his voice filled with gratitude, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way everything had come together. Eddie was a rock star, but to Melody, he was simply dad — the man who wore her creations with pride, who accepted her love in whatever form it came. Whether it was in the shape of a handmade bracelet or a silly fake tattoo, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was from her.

And that was everything.

When the broadcast cut to commercial, Melody looked up at you with sparkling eyes. “Do you think Daddy knows I love him so much?” she asked, her voice suddenly quiet, almost serious.

You smiled softly, kissing the top of her head. “Oh, sweetie. He knows. I think he feels it every day. I know he does.”

You held Melody a little tighter, your heart full as you watched the rest of the show with your daughter in your arms. Tonight wasn’t just about Eddie winning a Grammy. It was about the quiet, beautiful moments that made up your family — the love that could never be measured by awards or accolades. It was about the joy you shared with each other and the way Eddie wore that love for the world to see, no matter how unpolished, no matter how messy.

EDDIE’S POV

Eddie Munson’s hands were shaking as he stepped up to the stage, his knees wobbling just a little. It wasn’t because he wasn’t used to being on stage. Hell, he had performed in front of crowds thousands of times with no issue. It was just that this moment felt different. This was the Grammys. The one award ceremony that, for so long, seemed like an impossibly far-off dream and here he was, walking up to accept the award for Best New Artist like it was no big deal.

To Eddie Munson, it was a big deal. This was his band and he had proved everyone wrong.

He was trying to keep his cool but he couldn’t stop the wild rush of adrenaline in his veins. He tried to hold the golden statue steady after the announcer handed it to him, but his fingers kept twitching, like it was going to slip right out of his hand. His bandmates were already clapping behind him, grinning, cheering him on to make his speech. However, Eddie couldn’t focus on them right now. He had to think about what he was going to say as the frontman of Corroded Coffin.

“Uh, thank you so much,” he mumbled into the microphone, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what to say. This is… Jesus H. Christ…. This is crazy. Wow.”

The crowd laughed. He half-smiled at them, but his mind wasn’t really here. He was already thinking about the one person he needed to thank the most.

He looked out across the sea of people and felt the weight of their eyes on him. Everyone who had ever doubted him, everyone who had laughed when he said he’d make it, everyone who thought Corroded Coffin was just a phase.

But then he thought of her.

Of Melody.

The tiny girl back at home, probably jumping up and down in front of the TV with her mom. Probably waving her arms, shouting for Daddy like she always did whenever he was on television. Eddie could picture her now — her bright eyes filled with excitement, her little voice calling out to him. He could almost hear it. “Daddy! Daddy! Look! You won!”

He wasn’t just up here for himself. He was up here for her.

“First, I’ve gotta thank my bandmates,” Eddie said, his eyes scanning the faces behind him. “Couldn’t do this without them. We’ve been through hell and back together and this is just as much theirs as it is mine. And of course…the fans… We wouldn’t be here without you guys.”

They cheered, slapping him on the back and Eddie felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest. This was a team effort and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then, it was time for the moment he had been waiting for. The moment that, no matter how insane this night was, was what truly mattered to him.

“I gotta thank my family, especially to my daughter, Melody,” Eddie said, his voice carrying through the microphone. His eyes glanced directly into the camera and for a brief moment, it was like the whole world melted away. “I love you, kid. This is for you.”

The words left his mouth before he could even think about them. Melody. His little girl, the reason he woke up every morning and pushed himself harder than he ever thought he could. He thought about her sitting on the couch at home, probably with you, smiling so big her cheeks must hurt. He thought about her little hands, the ones that had made him those silly fake tattoos, the ones that now decorated his arms. He had nearly forgotten about them, but now, looking down at his forearms, his heart swelled with pride.

The tattoos were ridiculous. There was no getting around it. Flames, dragons, flowers, skulls, all in bright neon and pastel colors. They looked like something out of a 1980s cartoon — over the top and completely out of place on a red carpet. But he didn’t care. Why should he?

What mattered was that those tattoos, every single one of them, had been made by Melody. She had begged him to let her put them on him. She practically climbed up his legs while he was getting ready.

And he let her put every single tattoo on him. Every single one. He had to. Because, to him, they weren’t just tattoos. They were a piece of her. A piece of his heart.

He then caught a glimpse of the “DAD” bracelet that was wrapped around his wrist. It had been clumsily woven by Melody, each bead painstakingly placed by her small fingers, a little lopsided and uneven. But it didn’t matter. It was perfect.

“Melody,” he whispered into the mic again, his eyes glazing over with tears for a moment. “I love you, kid.”

He didn’t know if the crowd heard it or if they even cared, but it didn’t matter. As far as Eddie was concerned, Melody was the one who had truly given him everything. She was the reason he fought for this life, for this crazy, unpredictable journey. She was the reason he was standing here at the Grammys, looking out at the world like he didn’t quite belong but didn’t care either.

This was his moment, but it was equally hers too.

And if the world didn’t understand why he was wearing fake tattoos that had no business being on a rockstar’s arms, or if they thought it was silly or unprofessional, he didn’t care.

Because he wasn’t doing this for them.

He was doing it for her. (And it was metal as fuck.)

Yeah, I’m a mess, Eddie thought with a grin, glancing at the camera that had zoomed in on his tattoos and bracelets. But this is my mess. And damn, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The crowd’s applause grew louder and Eddie snapped back to reality. His heart was racing, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He raised the Grammy higher, the light reflecting off it like some kind of symbol of everything he had fought for.

He couldn’t wait to get home. To see her face. To hold her close. To thank her for making him wear those damn bracelets and for making him wear those ridiculous tattoos. He wanted to hug her tight, tell her how much he loved her and how much she meant to him.

For now, however, he had this moment. He had the Grammy and he had Melody’s love wrapped around his wrist as a physical representation of her love for him.

“Thanks, kid,” Eddie whispered under his breath, walking off the stage with his bandmates. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Eddie Munson stepped through the front door, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as the cool night air from outside hit him. The house was still, a soft quietness settling over everything like a blanket. The weight of the Grammy was still heavy in his hand but it felt like it belonged there now. Like it was a part of him.

He kicked off his boots at the door, careful not to make too much noise. He hadn’t gotten home too late, but there was something about the stillness of the house that made him feel like he was walking on eggshells. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb anyone’s sleep.

He glanced around the living room, his eyes immediately locking onto the stack of pillows on the couch where you must’ve been earlier. You had probably been watching the broadcast, cheering him on, sharing the excitement with Melody. A part of him wanted to burst in there, to see you both and tell you about the night, to hold you and laugh about the ridiculous tattoos and the fake dragons on his arms.

But another part of him, the quieter part, wanted to let the moment sink in, just for a second.

He walked toward the hallway, gently pushing open the door to Melody’s room. The dim light from the hallway spilled across her tiny bed, casting a soft glow on the scene before him.

There she was, asleep — his little girl, wrapped up in her blankets, her small body curled up in that familiar way she always slept. Her face was peaceful, her breath soft and steady. She was so tiny. So innocent.

Eddie’s heart swelled as he took in the sight. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, just watching her sleep. He couldn’t help it. The weight of the Grammy in his hand felt like nothing compared to this moment. This was the real prize. The thing he had fought for; the thing that made everything worth it.

His mind flashed back to the stage, the moment he had held that golden trophy up to the crowd, and then looked down at his arms, back down at the fake tattoos, at the bracelet that spelled DAD. He’d been proud to wear them. Proud to wear them for her. Proud to show the world that no matter how big he got, no matter what happened with the band, Melody would always be the one who made him feel like he had won everything.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he thought about the absurdity of it all. Fake tattoos. Friendship bracelets. He hadn’t even noticed until he’d been on stage just how ridiculous they were. To him, they were the most important thing in the world.

He stepped closer to her bed, kneeling down beside it, still clutching the Grammy in one hand. He leaned in slightly, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.

"Hey, kiddo," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "We did it. We won.”

He reached out, gently taking her tiny hand in his and squeezing it softly. She didn’t stir, just kept breathing evenly in her sleep, but Eddie smiled at the feel of her hand in his.

There was a moment when the weight of the night seemed to fall away, and for the first time in hours, Eddie felt calm. No stage lights, no roaring crowd, no flashing cameras. Just him and his daughter.

He reached for the Grammy, hesitating for only a second, before placing it gently on the little dresser next to her bed. The glimmer of gold caught the light, but it didn’t matter. The real treasure was lying right here, in this room. It was the way her hand fit so perfectly in his. The way she had made him those silly bracelets that he’d worn like a badge of honor.

"I’ve got everything I need right here. The Grammy is just extra," Eddie muttered quietly to himself, glancing down at the trophy again before turning back to Melody.

He sat on the edge of her bed, just for a moment, his heart full of love. He had made it. Not just to the Grammys, not just as a rock star, but to this — to this family. To her.

And as he sat there, his fingers lightly brushing the top of her head, he whispered again, just loud enough for her to hear in her sleep: "I love you so much, Melody. You’re my everything. This Grammy is for you. Always."

With that, Eddie stood, giving her one last lingering look before slipping out of the room as quietly as he had entered. He made his way to the kitchen, the house still as a tomb, and found a note on the counter from you, probably written earlier in the night while he’d been at the awards show.

It was simple, but it hit him like a wave: “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. We both are. See you when you get home. We love you so much.”

His lips curved into a smile as he ran his fingers over the note, the words sinking deep into his chest.

Eddie could feel the weight of the Grammy now even while it wasn’t in his hand. Not in the sense of its physical heaviness, but in the way it was almost like a symbol — of everything he had fought for. Of everything he had gained. Not fame, not money, not recognition. But the one thing that mattered more than anything else: his family.

His world.

That was the only victory that ever mattered.

For once, Eddie Munson felt like he had everything.

#Eddie munson x reader #rockstar!Eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #reader x eddie munson #stranger things au #rockstar au #corroded coffin #Eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #fanfiction #eddie x reader #reader insert #stranger things #x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things fan fiction

137 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 5 months ago

Text

Preparing for Battle

Summary: It's that time of the month, but Jensen's ready to battle with you.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader (You)

Warnings: None. Fluff. Jensen comfort. Implied smut.

Word Count: 616

A/N: So, I got this sort of request from a dear, sweet anon who I always love to see in my inbox. But she's ailing a bit because being a woman sucks sometimes. So, I wrote something that I hope will comfort and cheer her. ❤️ I wrote it pretty quick so it could get out to her, so sorry for all the likely mistakes.

A/N 2: Also, of course, as always this is a Jensen from within the multiverse who is single. This is a complete and utter work of fiction.

“Hey.” Jensen’s voice was soft and questioning as he came into your bedroom to see you sitting up in bed and crying.

He sat on the side of the bed, facing you, and noticed you were looking at your phone. He used his knuckle to brush a tear from your cheek.

“Baby what’s wrong?”

He tried to see what was on your phone, so you showed it to him and he pressed play on the video you’d been watching. After viewing it for a minute he shook his head and looked at you.

“Period started?” He asked.

You nodded. “This morning.” You said with a sniffle.

Jensen shut off your phone and hid it under your pillow. “Sweetheart, you know better than to watch ‘soldiers coming home to their dogs’ videos when you’re on your period. They make you cry at the best of times.”

You brushed your tears away. “It’s just proof, you know, of how pure their little puppy souls are.” The tears started again in earnest and Jensen reached over to grab you a tissue.

As you blew your nose, he kissed your forehead. “Okay, well I’m off work for the next few days, so be prepared for pampering.”

You shook your head. “Jensen, you don’t have to do that. You’re home to relax after working for two weeks straight, I don’t want you to-”

He cut you off and jumped up from the bed. “Nope, too late.I’ll be back in under twenty minutes.”

And like a flash he was gone, leaving you slightly flummoxed.

True to his word he was back fifteen minutes later, hauling four overloaded bags into the bedroom. His smile was broad and happy. He began plucking things out of the bags and tossing them onto the bed.

“Okay, I got…chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.”

Every brand of chocolate bar, some with nuts, some with caramel, some with nougat, landed unceremoniously on top of the blanket.

He continued, pulling out a heating pad. He lifted it up. “A new one of these bad boys because the ancient one you inherited from your mom is bound to burn the house down one of these days.” He dropped it and dug into the next bag.

“Chips! Etcetera.” He said, pulling out a ridiculous amount of salty snacks, including pretzels and popcorn. He brought out a six pack of ginger ale. “For the nausea. Ooh!”

He raised his finger and then dug in another bag, taking out two boxes of Midol. “But also this, for all the other shit that comes along with mean Aunt Flo.”

You giggled. “Aunt Flo?”

He grinned and shrugged. “That’s what the women in my family called it.”

He finished emptying the bags, adding gummy bears and worms, chamomile tea, trashy magazines and 2 quarts of ice cream to the pile surrounding you.

Then from the inside pocket of his jacket he pulled out a little paper bag, and inside were two small bottles of massage oil. He held them up and gave them a little shake.

“Also, apparently massage is supposed to be very helpful.”

He brought them over and set them on the table beside the bed. He slipped out of his jacket, tossing it over the chair in the corner, and you sighed, admiring the way his black t-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and pulled tight across his biceps.

Sitting down on the side of the bed again, he leaned forward and kissed you slowly. You let out a small whimper and Jensen moaned lightly and pulled back, letting his forehead rest against yours and speaking roughly.

“Apparently orgasms also work really well on cramps.”

You laughed breathlessly. “Well, put away the ice cream and let's find out.”

Tags under the cut.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @lastcallatrockysbar @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @nancymcl

#jensen ackles rpf #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles comfort fic

102 notes · View notes

kissesazula · 3 months ago

Text

thinking about possessed-doll satoru, he’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t find a 6’3 porcelain doll, with blue eyes and silky white hair that feels so real— gorgeous?

he’s your grandmothers favourite, getting special treatment from her other dolls. she bathes him, feeds him, tucks him into bed (he actually has a bed unlike the other dolls), and praises him for just existing, standing there with a smile on his face.

you’ve never liked him, well not that you have hatred for the doll, but you never felt the connection that your grandma has with him. there was something about him that wasn’t warm, something about him sent a chill down your spine everytime he was mentioned.

standing before him, looking at his features, trying to figure out why sometimes your grandma prefers spending time with him over her own granddaughter.

“oh my dear, isn’t he beautiful?” she exclaims excitedly that you were paying attention to him. you looked at her confused, confused by her fascination about this doll that god knows where she got it from.

“it’s alright.” you stare into its eyes, expecting it to stare back but he was only looking forward. your grandma gasped at your words, slapping you away. “don’t call him an ‘it’! you might hurt his feelings!” she protested as she pushes you away from him. you watched as she mumbled apologies to the doll as you scoffed, walking out the door to where your mother was waiting for you to get in.

years go by as your grandma had died, and the family was trying to decide what to do with the house since she didn’t leave a will, is what you all thought until the doctor pulled it out from her pocket, seeing that your grandma stuffed in while she was looking, and handing it to your mom.

she groaned as she opened the letter, reading out the first few sentences to everyone present in the room. “my dears, if you are reading this then my time has come. i hope what you find yourself left with in the will, will satisfy your needs.” your mother rolls her eyes mockingly, finding it excruciating long on how she couldn’t just tell everyone what they inherited.

she continues reading the will, to discover that she was left with the car, your first uncle was left with heavy amounts of cash, your second uncle was left with nothing but the dog, and your aunt was left with the vacation home she had in cuba, but nothing about them inheriting the house?

“this hag forgot about the house?!” your aunt screeches, calling the woman that gave birth to her a hag, flipping the page around and reading ‘house’. “hah! here it is!” she exclaims excitedly as she reads it out loud. “now, for the house. im leaving everything in-trusted into..” she pauses as her eyes light up with horror. “the first born grandchild..” she mumbles as she looks at you in fear and rage.

but you were just as surprised as everyone else, walking over to your aunt and snatching the letter, reading it out loud. “my lovely, my only grandchild. you are the owner to the house now and everything inside it, please treat it with respect and my dolls. goodbye.” you read as your whole family looked at you in surprise and anger, as to why you were getting it and not them.

your eyes trailed down to the bottom, and there read instructions and to not read them out loud. there was instructions for taking care of a house? ‘dear my lovely, my house isn’t a normal house— it’s a peculiar house. you’ll see how. as soon as you read this, you are needed back at the house, and only you. you must spend 1 week there and care for the dolls, like not getting dust on them, making sure that they’re where they’re suppose to be, and more that you’ll figure out on your own. but, take extra care of satoru, he lives from it. if you do not favourite satoru.. i don’t want to say what will happen but just favourite him and take care of him as i did.’ was what she left you with, no furthermore instructions.

so, not trying to disobey your grandmother, you had your mother drive you to the house in an instant. using the key under the doormat to open the house, saying your bids to your mother as she drove off, leaving you alone in the house.

the lights are off, the scent of the house is off too. instead of it smelling like an empty void of dust, it smelt like a warm cinnamon-vanilla scent. you sniff around as you walk to the light, and see how the whole house was completely furnished with modern furniture. was someone already living in this house?

you gulped as you remembered your grandmas instructions clearly. walking over to the dolls and seeing if they were okay, seeing how they were still in ordered and satoru being in the middle as always, seeing how his precious face never changed. you were now the same age as satoru was, from what your grandma told you, he was 19, and you were close to turning 19.

“hi satoru.. hi everyone else.’ you mumbled quietly, expecting a reply but knowing you weren’t going to get one. you yawned as you did your instructions clearly and went up to your childhood room there, seeing how everything was the same and perfectly clean. you yawned again as you didn’t bother getting undressed, hoping right into bed and tucking yourself in as you drift off to sleep.

but, certain times in the night, you would wake up to a whine of a males voice, and see piercing blue eyes stare at you. but each time you shined your phones flashlight at it, it would disappear like you were seeing things. but you still went back to sleep.

sleeping at your grandmas was always quiet, especially in the mornings. waking up and stretching your arms as you yawned audibly, turning to your side and opening your eyes. you screamed slightly as you woke up to satoru, laying in bed with you.

you pulled the cover over yourself as you sat up, gulping as you look at the doll who was in his pjs, wondering how he got there.

you store at him in pure confusion and horror, his eyes never moving and his lips staying in that warm smile. you yawned again as you probably changed him yourself and put him in bed with you, since it was probably on your grandmas weird instructions.

you sighed as you got up from bed, taking satoru with you, feeling his human like skin and carrying him slightly down the stairs, sort of dragging him as you struggle to bring him back down, wondering how you did this yesterday.

you placed him back in his spot, saying good morning to everyone, forgetting to exclude them from satoru and give him his own good morning. looking back at satoru and seeing how his mouth expression had changed slightly. his cheeks were still jolly, but his lips curved down in a sort of pout kind of way. maybe you were seeing things.

another helpless day goes by of taking care of the dolls and satoru, cleaning the house as you yawn tiredly and get cozy in your bed. but you felt that same pair of blue eyes on you, and each time you woke up to see them, they would be closer and closer. you gulped nervously, feeling them right above you as you didn’t dare to open your eyes, scared of what might be there as you toss and turn in your sleep.

the next morning, you scream again. this time beside satoru was looking dead in your eyes with his cheeks low and his pout even lower, with furrowed eyebrows. ‘how the fuck was he doing this?’ you questioned to yourself, knowing that it wasn’t you who brought him up since it had hurt your arm the time you brought him down.

you gulp as you struggle bringing him down again, putting him back in his spot as you see the other dolls, with distorted faces. your eyes widen in fear, looking all around the doll room and seeing how some of them were crying or some of them were angry, shivering in the spot.

“they’re crying because of you.” you screamed as you heard another voice, the same male voice you heard whining. turning around and seeing how satoru moved from his spot, grabbing your hand and cupping it with his own, looking at you in anger.

“they’re hurting, because of you.” he pouts mockingly as he whispers in your ear. you trembled in fear and confusion, onto how a doll was talking to you like this. you realize what your grandma meant by take extra care of satoru, satoru was a real doll. and he was satans spawn.

“cmon lovely, grandma not leave you enough instructions?” he giggles teasingly as he walks around you, letting your hand go as he suddenly starts walking to the glass cabinets with the other miniature dolls. “take extra care of satoru!” he recites what she said in the letter, making you tremble in fear even more as he brushed his hand against the cabinet, before breaking in and grabbing one of the dolls by its neck, strangling it.

“thought you would’ve known better.” he mumbles disappointedly as he strangles the poor other dolls, like it’s alive. he giggles again as he turns over to you. “forgot that mortals can’t hear the dolls screaming, he’s begging for you to help him.” he pouts mockingly again, finding it amusing on how he’s milking the fear out of you.

“good thing that old hag died, i was getting tired of waiting for you. almost killed her myself!” he smiled all happily as he throws the doll on the ground. your eyes watching it fall and noticing the life that was in its eyes, is now gone.

“w-what are you talking about..” you saw pathetically as it draws a giggle from him again, tracing his hand on another cabinet and breaking the glass, reaching in for another one that looked exactly like your aunt, strangling her too.

“grandma didn’t tell you? she signed a contract with the devil for wealth. the contract was that the devil sends someone worthy and the mortal— your grandma in this case gives her soul away. but i wanted something more, I wanted you. i saw you in her future, your poor innocent grandma was only 23 when she signed her soul away.” he explained briefly as you watch the colour drain out of your aunt like dolls face fades away.

“and! here’s the best part! i offered my protection from the devil coming back and taking more from her, in exchange for your hand!” he threw your aunt like doll on the ground and smashed its head with his foot, watching it crumble to pieces. but your mind was on his words, you were going to be marrying a doll?

“cmon wifey, we have so much to do.” he says as he walks over to you, using his devil powers to pour gasoline all the cabinets filled with dolls, your eyes making contact with the dolls that looked like your family members, and realizing that all these dolls here were people you knew in real life. taking your hand and kissing it as he pulls a lighter out, throwing it to the cabinet behind you both as he rushes you guys out of the room, turning your head around and seeing the dolls light up in flames. your innocent eyes never leaving the fire, not knowing that those dolls that looked like your family, were actually voodoo dolls.

#jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #cute #dolls #reborn dolls #the devil wears prada #anime #gojo smut

139 notes · View notes