#i will take any excuse to talk about my fam | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notroosterbradshaw · 1 year ago

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about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

masterlist.

The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised.

Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand...

You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening.

Ahh, sisters.

Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock.

“What time is it?” You asked softly.

“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”

Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before.

He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly.

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.

“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.”

“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours."

“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”

“You sure?”

“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”

“It’s Christmas. People travel.”

“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.

You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today."

"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?

"I think you'll be fine."

"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”

You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."

"I would believe that," he said softly.

"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.

"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.

"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy."

"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."

You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time.

“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…”

“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole.

"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”

“Confident of you, don’t you think?”

“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”

“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”

He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world.

"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.”

“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled.

“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times.

The one per cent, he’s told you once before.

You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.

“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."

“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable).

“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again.

These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.

"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound."

That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him.

Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious.

He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.

He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.”

You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”

“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.”

“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him.

“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”

"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it.

Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip.

“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”

Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?”

You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.”

Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."

"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time.

"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.

"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging.

Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.

It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start.

But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up.

Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.

"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were.

"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”

Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come.

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”

“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts.

He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.

“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.

“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”

“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him.

“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it.

A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.

“You want eggs?”

“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”

“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too.

Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no.

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ghostlynachopanda · 1 year ago

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Till Next time pt2

a/n: so sorry I'm hella late, but happy pride month pals! I'll be doing a clean up of my page so some of my fics will be gone soon. hope this is okay, I wrote it at 4am cause I couldn't sleep. enjoy pals :)

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 2.5k

summary: Wednesday struggles to send you a text but manages to invite you over to the Addams mansion. you meet the fam

~~~

It had been one week since you had last seen Wednesday, both of you settling back into your homes. She assumes it's taking you longer to settle in due to you not having a Lurch to carry all of your things. At least, that's the excuse she's using to justify you not contacting her.

It's only been a week but your absence has been obvious the moment your car drove off. There were no random visits or someone to just spend time with in silence. There was no one to talk to about her novel or tell her ideas she would not use. It had also been unnecessarily sunny, something Wednesday could only put up with because it reminded her of you.

She walked over to her bag and pulled out the phone she was gifted, looking at it for a moment before opening it and clicking on your contact. She stared at your picture for a moment before realizing something.

You do not have her contact information.

Wednesday felt panic and embarrassment creep into her stomach. What if you had been waiting for her to reach out? How could she have forgotten such a simple thing? She may have gotten so caught up in being able to terrorize Pugsley that it slipped her mind. She had to fix this, would it be better to call or text you?

She'd like to hear your voice again, but if an unknown number called would you pick up? If you had any common sense, you wouldn't. There was also a higher chance of you answering a text. There was just one problem with that, she didn’t know what to say.

Yes, she had been planning everything out — from the first letter and texts and what to talk about. But, this situation was a little more frightening than Wednesday had anticipated. She had not been planning on forgetting to message you, and now she was worried you thought she didn’t want to talk to you.

Quickly pressing the message button and seeing the empty text line tied her stomach into knots. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard, not knowing what to type. Every message she typed out she was forced to delete because she didn't like it. She shook her head and decided that this was the last message she'd type.

Good afternoon, this is Wednesday.

Before she could change her mind she hit send, hit the power button, and put the phone on her desk. Her hands itched to pick up the phone and see if you had responded but she forced herself to focus on something else — mainly hunting Pugsley.

The next time she had the chance to check the phone was after dinner. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a notification from you. Opening the message she saw a simple, "Hi Wednesday!"

She briefly wondered if you had gone through the same predicament as herself. Her thoughts are cut short by the three text bubbles under your previous message followed by a new message.

"Are you busy right now?"

Her eyes narrowed, thinking through the possibilities of what could happen if she said no. She wasn't busy, dinner had just finished and everyone went off to do their own thing for the night. She looked at the door and calculated how likely it would be for someone to walk in anytime soon.

No, I'm not.

A minute after she sent the message her phone started buzzing with an incoming Facetime from you. She tilted her head, not exactly knowing which button to press as if the color-coded buttons weren't enough. Her phone eventually stopped vibrating, and she saw the 'missed call' notification before another message from you popped up.

"It's the green button, Wednesday"

A few seconds later another Facetime call came in, and when she pressed the green button like instructed your face popped into view. You were lightly laughing, a big smile on your face, and Wednesday had never been so relieved to see your face.

"Why are you laughing?" she inquired.

"I'm sorry. I can just imagine how confused you looked while getting the call," you said through a fit of giggles.

"Glad to know it's so amusing," Wednesday replied dryly.

"Oh, come on! It's funny! Besides, it's sort of cute that you didn't know." the cute smile on your face made her anger turn into embarrassment, "Or I'd like to think you didn't know. Otherwise, you just let my call ring out."

"Maybe I had the urge to hit the red button." your mouth formed an 'o' shape at her quip.

"Wednesday, that's so mean!" you whined like a child.

"Good." you opened your mouth to gibe at Wednesday but she continued, "I'd like to formally invite you to visit the Addams mansion."

You paused, needing a second to comprehend what she had just said. She's inviting you to her house? At a loss for words, you say, "Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe? I can retract the offer-" panic flashes across your features.

"No!" the volume of your voice surprises you, quietly clearing your throat before continuing. "No, it's just.. Uh... Yeah, I'd love to visit. When is good for you?"

"Tomorrow." your jaw dropped again before realizing she was messing with you.

"Wednesday Addams has learned sarcasm. Who would've thought? Give this girl an award or something."

"Say anything like that again and I'll-" you cut her off.

"Anyways, you need to give me at least 2 days' notice. I'll need to tell my parents and you'll need to tell me how long I'll be there so I can pack clothes." it's Wednesday's turn to pause.

"Your parents won't mind?" she asks stunned.

"Oh no, as long as they know where I'm going they don't care." Wednesday sent you a look, "It's true! Last summer, I spent the entire break at my friend's house and they didn't care. They texted me occasionally to make sure I was alive, but other than that there was nothing." you shrugged.

Wednesday was slightly appalled by your parents' lack of care for their child. "I see. Then why don't you come over at the start of next week and stay for a couple of days," she suggested. Unsure if you'd want to stay more than that, she knows her family can be a lot.

"Only a couple of days? But yeah, sounds good to me. I assume I should pack colorless clothes for this trip?" you ask, unknowingly making Wednesday's heart beat just a little faster.

"That would be preferred. I'll send you the address, date, and time to arrive."

"Sounds like a plan!" you looked at your clock past the camera, "Hey Wednesday, I have to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," she breathed out.

"Bye, my love!" you said quickly before ending the call.

Wednesday looked at the date on her phone and started counting down the hours till you would show up at her doorstep.

---

Once Wednesday had figured out how to properly call you and not freak out about texting you she did it constantly. She found herself looking forward to the nightly calls you two would have and the messages that would be exchanged. Seeing your face and hearing your voice every day made your absence not as acute. She wouldn't say she's a slave to technology, but she can see why people would become that way.

You had started packing for your short trip to the Addams' house as soon as you got invited, needing to find enough dark clothes for the short trip. When the day came, you loaded your bag in the car before telling your parents you were leaving for a few days. You texted Wednesday before starting the drive. The drive was surprisingly only a couple of hours, you had no idea she was that close to you.

When you finally arrived, you parked your car next to the only other car there. Eagerly getting out of the car to stretch your legs and texting Wednesday to inform her you're here.

Wednesday calling it a mansion was right, the house is huge. It's probably the biggest and darkest colored house you've ever seen in your life. Once the feeling returns to your butt, you grab your bag and walk to the front of the house. You take a calming breath before knocking.

You only have to wait a couple of seconds before the door is yanked open to reveal Wednesday. You smile widely at her and her lips twitch upwards, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Hi, long time no see," you said, smiling brightly at her. Wednesday wouldn't tell you, but you look great in black, and the way your smiling at her takes her breath away. She feels something warm bubble in her chest at the knowledge that you did what you said you would — bring colorless and wear clothes.

"Hello," Wednesday replies, looking as relaxed as you've ever seen her. Your eyes soften at the sight and your smile widens just a little bit more. You see her open the door wider, signaling you to walk inside.

When you do, you're met with the wide grin of Gomez, the soft smile of Morticia, and Pugsley sticking his head around the corner. Quickly putting on a polite smile and sticking your hand out, "Hi, my name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

You see them give each other a look before Morticia reached out to shake your hand, "The pleasure is all ours, dear. I'm Morticia, Wednesday's mom." your smile widens at that. You turn to Gomez and stick your hand out for him. He looks at it for a second before sticking his own hand out. As soon as his hand reaches yours he's pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, "Yes! The pleasure is really all ours!" he's aggressively rocking you side to side before pulling away and keeping his hands on your shoulders.

"My name is Gomez, it's really nice to see someone new at this house! Everyone that comes here is either a couple of relatives or a couple of ghosts!" he exclaimed heartily. He gently squeezed your shoulders before letting go.

"Oh, your house is haunted? That's kind of cool!" you said, lying through your teeth. The prospect of ghosts is unsettling, but they didn't need to know that. You look to the boy next and stick your hand out.

"I'm Pugsley, Wednesday's little brother," he says shyly while walking up to you, not used to so many eyes being on him. He gingerly slides his hand into yours, and you smile. Hoping to make him comfortable.

"So, are you one of Wednesday's friends?" he asks and you nod, "That's good, I'm glad she's making friends" You laugh and lean down closer to him, looking like you’re telling him a secret.

"Me too, she was kinda scary when I met her. I thought she was going to gut me when I first talked to her," you whisper to him.

"Yeah, she kind of does that," he says laughing. You smile down at him, knowing you managed to make him feel less awkward. You miss Morticia's smile.

"Well, why don't you let Lurch take your bag to one of the guest rooms and let Wednesday give you a tour of the house while lunch is prepared." Morticia proposes in a soft voice. You make your way back over to Wednesday's side, comfortable with how those conversations went.

"Y/N will be staying in my room, Lurch can take her bag there." Both her parents look surprised at that. Morticia is quickly connecting the dots.

"I see, alright then. I'll inform Lurch to take her bag to your room." Morticia replied kindly.

"Lurch? Who's Lurch?" you ask.

A grunt is heard from behind you. Turning to greet the person only to be met with someone's chest. Letting out a tiny squeak of surprise and taking a quick step back to look back at the towering man. You clear your throat, hoping to get rid of the lingering embarrassment, "Hi, I'm Y/N." you stick your hand out to shake his.

He looks at Gomez and Morticia before looking down at you and gently sliding his hand into yours. His hands are calloused and big, and his grip is slightly too tight. When he lets go of your hand you look at your hand and see it start to redden. You look up at him in amazement and give him a thumbs up, "You're strong! Your hands are tough too, do you build things or something? Do you fix things around the house?"

"That's enough. I'm giving you the tour now." Wednesday said, turning around and walking off, slightly irritated to see you talk to her family more than herself.

Your head looks between Lurch, Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley, and Wednesday's retreating form. Torn between staying and talking or following Wednesday. Unsure if you want to seem impolite to her family or have Wednesday be mad at you. You want Wednesday's family to like you, but you don’t want to upset Wednesday more than you already did.

"It's okay sweetheart," Morticia says, slightly nodding her head in Wednesday's direction, indicating you to follow her.

"Ah, yes ma'am. Thank you!" you say, words rushed as you wave and turn to rush to Wednesday's side.

When you finally reach her, quickly falling into stride with her angry footsteps. You stay quiet, just enjoying being next to her.

"You don’t need to be nice to my family," Wednesday huffed, breaking the quiet air surrounding you two.

"I actually like them, they're super nice." she grunts in response, "Is your house really haunted though?"

Wednesday feels a smirk pull at her lips, "Of course, that's why I had your bag put in my room. You're too much of a coward to sleep alone in a house as haunted as this one."

You slowly push yourself closer to Wednesday, not appreciating the haunted state of the house. Your shoulders brush and Wednesday finds your fear adorable.

"Don't worry, darling. The ghosts know better than to come into my room. You'll be safe with me." she says softly.

---

"Y/N, how was the tour?" Morticia asked politely, trying to make conversation while lunch was being laid out.

"It was great! Your home is beautiful in its own little eerie way! Not to mention all the weapons you have in here, so cool Mrs. Addams!" you said excitedly, truly enjoying the house in all of its glory.

Wednesday feels a smile pull at her lips, feeling giddy about the fact you enjoy the house as much as you do. She quickly takes the spot next to you. She feels even more giddy at the look on your face when the lunch that Lurch made is brought out. You look cautious of what's in it. When a plate is handed to you, you hesitantly take it.

You patiently wait for something to happen, but everyone has started eating — well, everyone except Lurch. He's turned to walk back out of the room, you tilt your head at that. You turn to him, "Lurch, are you going to eat?" you ask loud enough for him to hear you but soft enough so it doesn't sound accusatory.

He shakes his head and you hear Gomez start laughing, "I really like this one! You did good, my little death trap."

Your face turns bright red. Wednesday's face has even turned a slight red color, making Gomez laugh harder and Pugsley let out a small laugh of his own. You're suddenly very interested in your food, trying to keep your head down for the rest of lunch, hoping to avoid embarrassing yourself further. It only works for a few minutes.

"So, Y/N, why don't you tell us about yourself. We've heard nothing about you," Morticia says sweetly.

------

extra

Morticia, Gomez, Pugsley, and Lurch watched you rush to follow Wednesday to start the tour. They all watch as you watch Wednesday point things out in the house until you turn a corner.

"Wow, I like that one. Hopefully they stay friends!" Gomez says, knowing the others agree with him. Lurch grunts in approval, and Pugsley nods in agreement.

"They're definitely not just friends," Morticia states before walking away.

"Huh??" Gomez and Pugsley said, whipping their heads to look back at Morticia. When she didn't acknowledge either of them, they turned to Lurch for confirmation.

All Lurch did was nod his head before moving to take your bag to Wednesday's room.

I tried my best, pls be nice I’m tired

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o639 @tundra1029 @the-lazy-traveller

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader

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between-two-fandoms · 6 months ago

Note

Thoughts on Buck ever meeting Captain Gerard? Like… maybe they’re at the FD/cop bar and Gerard shows up while Hen and Karen, Chimey and Tommy and Eddie are all there and it’s so awkward and Tommy wants to lash out and Eddie looks like he’s gonna beat someone’s face in— but then Buck is there defending his fam? I donno why but i feel like I need this…Athena meeting Gerard would also be a THING I NEED.

oooh, I haven't thought of this one yet!

I can picture them all at the badge and ladder bar, and Gerard winds up at the bar ordering something and spots Tommy first so he moseys on over to the 118 crew/firefam. And Buck is sitting there next to Tommy. He notices how Tommy's usual suave confident nature falters in front of his old captain. Buck takes it all in for the first time, leaning into Tommy as he tries listening to old stories from Tommy's first captain.

It's clear Hen and Chimney are immediately uncomfortable with this smelly old man's presence at their table, but Bobby doesn't make him leave so Buck follows Bobby's lead at first and tries to be nice to Gerard. But then Gerard starts cracking offensive jokes. First at Buck's expense, because Buck's got a reputation a mile-wide from his 1.0 era and that's fine. Buck can handle jokes being made about him. He's a big boy. Tommy's hand grips his thigh under the table, grounding him.

(more under cut)

They're all still humoring him an hour after Gerard tells a couple of stories and lays off the jokes for a bit, but Buck has already decided he loathes this man who thinks he can get away with talking to his family like this. All the snide comments and borderline offensive one-liners. And then Gerard starts cracking jokes at Hen and Chim's expense and gets offended when Tommy doesn't play along. When Gerard starts turning his attention to Eddie he tries making a joke about Christopher when Eddie shows him a picture. Before anyone else can do anything Buck snaps. Maybe he feels brave enough for confrontation because he's had a couple beers so he's not able to control his emotional stressors like usual, or maybe he's just fully pissed off at this sorry excuse for a fire captain for thinking he's one of them.

How dare he think he can make fun of the 118 like this? They're heroes compared to scraggly old man ass. They're Buck's family. Bobby is a hundred times the captain you'll ever be Gerard! Tommy's grown into a person he can be proud of! Fuck off you asshole. He's a great boyfriend! kisses Tommy aggressively to make a point then rounds on Gerard again Chim is the best older brother ever. He's an amazing paramedic and he's going to be at the 118 longer than any of us! And how dare you insult Hen and Karen! Karen is a rocket scientist she's a million times smarter than you'll ever be asshole! Hen is my sister. She's the best paramedic in the state. how dare you talk about my sister like that! When he's done everyone looks at Buck kind of afraid but mostly just thankful he had the guts to say what everyone's been thinking.

Then Gerard gets scared off, and Buck's coming down from the high, still seething a little. Everyone thanks Buck for sticking up for them, but they inevitably decide to call it a night and taper off until it's just Buck and Tommy left. By then the exhaustion washes over Buck and he just buries his face into Tommy's chest. Tommy (who is a little turned on by Buck yelling at Gerard and being all protective over everyone, but now's not the time) wraps his arms around him telling him how brave he is, how strong he is, how much he loves him, and then he takes him home.

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 show #bucktommy #eddie diaz #911 abc #bobby nash #ren answers #henrietta wilson #chimney han #i think buck should get angry more often

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robo-milky · 6 months ago

Note

“Hey, Carrots!

No need to look so offended, I’m not here to cause any trouble, you know~. No favors to ask of either. It’s your special day, isn’t it? It is! So I came by to give you a present.

…Yeah, okay, it’s not really much, but it’s a gift nonetheless. Coupon for a special pop for the birthday girl~. You have a favorite flavor or something? I’ll try making it into a pop for you. A dozen for free! I’m real kind, I know.

Oh, and before I forgot. You know Ashi, don’t you? Poor girl couldn’t make it today, so she asked me to hand you a gift bag in her stead. Proves my trustworthiness, doesn’t it? Heh.

No need to worry, I didn’t peek at it… Hold some higher standards for me, would you?”

Niko hands over the bag. It’s a cute, pink, petite bag with cat decorations on it. It holds some resemblance to the feline holding it herself.

Grabbing what’s inside, there’s a little drawing with a note attached. It’s written with words and symbols that seem impossible to verbalize, but somehow it’s easy to imagine a certain brunette bringing life to them…

Clochey! HBD fam!~ Super bummed I couldn’t make it, but I hope this prezzie has enough of my energy baked into it that it feels like I’m there! LMK ASAP ☆

I wanted to send you a cute lil’ message ‘cuz I’m real thankful for us being friends, YK? Even tho we aren’t super buddy buddy, I still totally enjoy your company. Eppy tells me enough about you that it basically feels like I’m hanging with you myself!

Anyway~ I wanted to gift smth more personalized for you, so I drew up a little drawing! It’s kinda like a postcard, but I tried putting one of your fave things on it ♡ I hope you enjoy!~

We should SO get talkin’ again soonsies! Wishin you a happy birthday and many more with a certain huntsman <3

Sincerely, Ashi ♪

Cloche hears a chuckle after she’s done reading the note.

“Wow, Carrots, your face is a little red… Wonder what Ashi stirred up for you to get you, the cold clawed kitty to get lookin’ like that. Well, privacy is privacy. Guess that’s my cue to leave.

Here’s hoping you catch a break from all the trouble around campus, hm? Enjoy your day~.”

HAPPY BDAY CHRIS!!!!!!! I HOPE YOUR DAY AND WEEK AND TBH MONTH IS SO BANGER. ITS SO DESERVED!!!!!!! 🫶 it’s been SO nice being your moot for like?? WHAT??? TWO YEARS OR SMTH??? TIME IS SO CRAZY. it’s been such a treat being able to interact n talk w you since the beginning!!! I GET SUPER HAPPY WHENEVER I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS <333 HBD again and I hope life treats you well!!!!! 🙏 blessing your pulls and turning them into pomepulls……….. tehepero

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash] *them referring to our dear freshmen

Okay first of all… ASHIIIIIII YOU’RE GONNA KILL ME I SWEAR !!! THE FACT THAT YOU SENT THIS SO EARLY??!?! THE INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING! I JUST LOVE HOW THIS PLAYS OUT SO NATURALLY- Fr, Niko just waltzing into Ramshackle then dipping- aND THE GORGEOUS GORGEOUS ROOKLOCHE ART- LITERALLY SCREAMING OVER THE POSE AND DETAILS- YOU SERIOUSLY OUT DID YOURSELF FOR THIS ONE! Rook carrying her and Cloche grabbing on to him to get closer- SAVANACLAW ROOK MY BELOVED- Muscle man frrrr- Ashi really caught on to the cat maid’s staring during Chapter 7 huh. AND THE DOODLES ON RHE SIDES ARE TOO CUTE- 😩

Epel yapping on about Cloche and totally not suspiciously asking Ashi about her roommate- Ashi internally sweating bullets when Epel doesn’t realize that everything he describes is the cat maid making up excuses to avoid him-

Also take this… Cloche walking up to Niko days later and asking for a bone marrow pop, and it takes Niko a few seconds to realize it was a joke 😭😭 Slow burn friendship trust-

Really, it’s so wild that it’s been 2 years- So glad to have you here and to celebrate with you again !! I think you really blessed my pome pulls with this one- seriously- man came on the 30th pull twice- Ilyyyyy If makes me super happy to see you in my notifs as well and may we continue to interact in the future!

#crying sobbing thank you #cloche’ birthday bash 🎊#oc: cloche🎊#mutuals 🎊#rookloche #cat scratches 🌸#niko cimarron #ashi tamadai #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst ocs #others ocs #twst yuu #twst yuusona #oc interactions #mutuals art

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years ago

Text

The More The Merrier - Part One

Set in The Shape of Youniverse

Summary: Doctor Strange’s wedding gift allows you and your husband to fulfill your wildest fantasies

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: Mature (for now!)

CW/TW: Mentions of pregnancy, reader experiences anxiety and mild body insecurity, Marc is ~protective~ and not afraid to threaten violence to protect his fam, discussions of group sex, making out

A/N: Okay y’all! Everyone loved Group Effort so I thought there was no better way to celebrate 1000 followers than to write a follow up! I am currently burnt to a crisp creatively, HOWEVER I figure if I post what I have so far this lovely community’s support and reactions may just invigorate me to get the rest of this naughtiness out!

Translations at the end of the fic as usual!

You thought you were dreaming. You must have been, because why else would Doctor Strange be in your living room talking to your husband? The sound of voices had awoken you, and when you saw that Marc’s side of the bed was empty, you followed the hushed but heated voices to their source.

You could hear Marc insisting lowly, “I told you I can’t…”

“And I told you his new avatar is miss–”

“Honey?” You interrupted, your voice raspy from sleep, “What’s going on?”

You’d rubbed just enough sleep from your eyes to be able to take in the sight before you. Marc, in his pajamas, mid-argument with Doctor Strange, red cape and all.

You blinked furiously. Up until that very moment, all of Marc’s stories about being the white knight dude–Moon Knight, he told you he’d been called, were just that. Stories. You liked it that way. That way, there was plausible deniability. Seeing him talking to an Avenger in your flat made things startlingly real.

“Go back to bed sweetheart,” your husband urged you, trying and failing to keep his mounting frustration from bleeding into his tone.

Like hell you were going back to sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marc answered immediately. His pointed look to the Avenger meant that Strange wasn’t going to divulge anything either.

“Sorry to wake you, Mrs. Spector,” the sorcerer offered instead.

“I’m not going anywhere until one of you tells me why he’s here in the middle of the night,” you informed both men plainly. It was perplexing to think that the men in charge of your planet’s safety, like Doctor Strange and your husband, were such shit liars.

“It’s Khonshu--” Strange began.

“He’s retired,” you interjected. Your husband resuming his superhero activities, especially when you’d just found out you were pregnant a few weeks ago, was your worst nightmare.

“I know,” he assured you, “I had a question for Marc, that’s all.”

“And I told him that I can’t be involved with any of this shit, in any capacity,” your husband fumed, “Twice now.”

“Well excuse me,” the sorcerer snarked, “and here I thought you’d become a consultant.”

You couldn't stifle the giggle that Strange’s comment brought forth. Marc bristled, “Please sweetie, will you wait for me in the bedroom? I’ll show Stephen out.”

Hearing that your husband was on a first-name basis with an Avenger made your head swim. You nodded, but didn’t completely comply, going only so far as the hallway so you could eavesdrop on them unseen.

“Did I just get you into trouble?” Strange inquired.

“Yes,” your husband confirmed. “Out of everything wrong with me, her only hang-ups are my ex-wife and the avatar shit, so summon one of those portal things before I have to kick you out myself.”

“Wow, okay, so Steven’s the one with the manners then,” he noted wryly.

Marc sighed so deeply you could hear it from across the flat. “How many times do I have to say–”

“Congratulations by the way.”

Your heart dropped. Did he know? He couldn’t know. You were nowhere near showing, how on earth could he know? Doctor Strange flew and did magic and traversed the multiverse, but there was no way he could tell that you were pregnant, was there?

“I’ll tear you limb from limb and rent your stupid cloak out for birthday parties,” Marc threatened in a snarl, “I didn’t want anyone knowing that we're together, let alone that we’re expecting. If that information leaves your lips, so help me–”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Strange promised him, “though it explains why I can’t convince you.”

“Use that forgetting spell on yourself,” your husband ordered.

“I’ll do you one better,” the sorcerer offered, “I’ll put you two under the protection of the London Sanctum. It’ll keep her safe while we sort all of this out…though it’d go a lot quicker if you–”

“Want me to re-introduce you to Jake?” Marc growled.

Now it was Strange’s turn to sigh. “You realize you don’t have the suit anymore, right?”

“Nunca lo necesité,” the man in question interceded, “Disfrutaría el desafío.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” the Avenger observed.

“She’s the reason I left Khonshu,” Marc confessed. After observing him so tight-lipped and protective about your relationship to Strange just now, your husband’s candor shocked you.

“I’d say you traded up,” the sorcerer remarked archly.

Marc stood firm. “Yeah, and I’m not looking to downgrade anytime soon.”

“Can’t blame you. Well Marc, it’s always a…time.”

The faint hum of what you assumed was the magic he conjured for the portals Strange used alerted you to scamper back to the bed and dive under the covers, so that when Marc returned you could convincingly feign sleep. Moments later, you felt the mattress dip under his weight and his arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Are you mad at me?” came his timid question, murmured into your hair.

You didn’t open your eyes. “That you told Doctor Strange to fuck off for the sake of our marriage? For our family? No, hun.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized anyway, “I hate how that this part of my past won’t let me go.”

“This wasn’t your fault and you didn't get involved,” you pointed out, implicitly urging him to let it go. “Can we go back to sleep? Need to rest up for my inevitable morning vomit sesh.”

Marc held your tighter and pressed a kiss to a notch of your spine. “‘Course baby.”

You weren’t exactly proud of how quick you were to brush the encounter off, but being a newlywed and a surprise pregnancy meant you had enough on your plate. There wasn’t any mental or emotional space to entertain the thought of your ex-avatar husband having to risk his life to ensure your, your unborn baby, and Earth’s safety, because if you did, the Hulk would look like a teddy bear in comparison to the state it’d send you in.

Luckily, Marc was even better at sweeping uncomfortable moments under the rug than you were. You didn’t give the late-night meeting with Doctor Strange a second thought until a few weeks later when you glimpsed a headline about another global calamity averted emblazoned across a fellow Tube passenger’s copy of The Guardian. Your first trimester made you incredibly motion sick, so you had to look away and deep breathe at once, since the last thing anyone wanted on their morning commute was a woman spewing all over the car.

Work served as the perfect distraction, until you received a particularly cryptic and distressing text from your husband mid-afternoon.

From: Hubby

Can you come home please?

From me:

Now? Are you alright?!

From Hubby:

Yes, I’m fine. Just need you to come home right away.

You huffed. That answered absolutely nothing and only made you more anxious. The periods at the ends of his sentences were a dead giveaway as to which alter you were texting with, so you pressed:

From me:

What’s wrong Marc?

From Hubby:

Everything’s fine, I promise.

From me:

Are you sick?

The three dots appeared that he was typing, but you’d already sprung from your desk chair at that point. You hurried over to a superior’s office to let them know you were leaving early, claiming a spousal emergency, and you didn’t even wait for a proper response from your boss before you returned to your office, collected your things, and dashed for the door.

From me:

Just told Graham I’m heading home. I’ll be there soon!! Do I need to call 999? Harry? Dr. Moorhead????

Marc never asked for help. He'd rather eat all ten toes. It was a point of contention in your relationship, something you were working through, so the fact he’d texted you in the middle of the afternoon asking you to come home freaked you the fuck out. You’d just gotten into a taxi - it’d be faster than the Tube this time of day - when he finally responded.

From Hubby:

No. See you soon.

You slammed your fist, still wrapped around the rectangle of your phone, down against the upholstered seat in the cab. If Marc was alive when you got home, you were going to kill him.

After one of the most fraught cab rides of your life, you breathlessly burst through the door of your flat. “MARC?! Jake?! Steven?! You okay?”

Your husband sat on the couch, appearing to be perfectly well. “Hi baby.”

You rushed to him, instantly putting the back of your hand to his forehead to check his temperature. “What’s wrong? God, would it kill you to tell me what’s going on? I nearly gave myself an ulcer on the way here.”

Marc caught your hand and brought your palm to his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” into the skin there.

“Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is happening here?” you demanded.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay baby,” he tried to soothe you.

“Then why did you send me those vague bloody texts telling me to come home ASAP?”

A sound from the bedroom momentarily distracted you before Marc captured your other hand in his grasp and gently tugged you to take a seat next to him. He continued to apologize, “I’m sorry, so sorry baby. We didn’t know how else to do it, plus we wanted it to be a surprise.”

You regarded him warily. “For what to be a surprise?”

“Remember when Stephen – well, Doctor Strange came here?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, he um…he knew you were pregnant–I didn’t tell him, he just…I don’t know he mystically sensed it or something–and he felt bad about implicating you in our business. I ended up helping him–nothing really, just told him some stuff he wanted to know about my time as Khonshu’s avatar, and he wanted to thank me–well us, I guess? He said to consider it a belated wedding or early–”

“Ay…I think I’ve missed a birthday with how long you’re taking!”

This was it. Forget your husband’s mental health struggles, you’d officially had a psychotic break. Because Jake had interrupted your conversation by walking into the room. In a separate body.

“Fucking hell!! You couldn’t wait thirty more seconds?!” Marc snapped at him.

Thank goodness you were already sitting down. The room swam. Your husband – wait, husbands?-- kept bickering with each other while you stared at them, glassy-eyed and slack-jawed.

“No voy a perder otro segundo teniendo que escucharte un parloteo. No tenemos todo el día aquí.”

“What the fuck is going on?” you asked yourself in an awestruck whisper.

“Honey?” Marc turned to you, “you’re okay.”

“Todo esta bien,” Jake added, rushing to your other side.

You were grateful that there were two of them, otherwise you would’ve collapsed. The thought made you laugh. Wow, you’d lost your mind with a stunning efficiency it seemed.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Marc’s eyes searched yours, desperate for you to focus.

“Uh huh.”

“What este pendejo was trying to say,” Jake interjected, “is that el doctor did a spell where we all get our own body for twenty-four hours.”

“He can do that?” It was a stupid question, given that you were surrounded by two of your husbands, but your brain was all but fried.

“See! This is why I wanted to do it like this! We needed to ease her in!!” Marc lamented.

“Where’s Steven?” you asked. He had to be here somewhere too, right?

“You can come out now!” Marc hollered toward the kitchen, and lo and behold, the last third of your husband shuffled into view, complete with his individual body as well.

“Why am I always the only one who follows the plan?” Steven complained, then after taking one look at your ashen face, joined his counterparts tending to you. “Oh darling, are you alright? Sorry, I know this all must come as a terrible shock. You want me to put the kettle on? Make you a cuppa?”

“The only thing that could help me right now is a stiff drink, which I obviously can’t have because of…” you trailed off and gestured to your midsection.

“Right, sorry. Marc and I wanted to do this differently, but leave it to Jake to muck things up, as per usual,” he groused.

“Oye, vete a la mierda pequeño–”

Marc tried to stop them. “Shut up, both of you, this isn’t hel–”

“Oh my God is this what the inside of your head is like?” you wondered aloud, unable to squash a delirious chuckle.

“Yes,” Steven confirmed, trying to maintain composure, “a small sampling of it, I’m afraid.”

Your chuckling escalated to full-on unhinged laughter. What else were you to do when each of your husbands were given their own body and argued in front of you?

“Am I high? Or at the very least awake?”

“No and yes,” Marc replied.

“So this is why I had to come home early,” you surmised.

“Sí, we only have twenty-four hours, and we weren’t going to waste anymore on waiting when we could–”

“We could what?”

“Well, with the baby coming, naturally our sex life is going to take a hit,” Marc said, “so, this seemed like a perfect, one-in-a-lifetime opportunity to um…fulfill some fantasies.”

“You faked an emergency and made me ditch work so we could all have group sex?”

Steven groaned, “It sounds so tawdry when you put it like that.”

Marc buried his head in his hands, but Jake puffed up his chest. “Por qué no? Vas a trabajar cada día, ¡pero tal vez nunca volvamos a estar así!”

“No one is touching me…” you protested, heaving a labored breath as overwhelmed tears brimmed in your eyes. “No one is touching me until you all apologize! Properly! You scared the shit out of me just now! You can’t…you can't keep me in the dark like that…I can’t take the stress between your past and the baby and work…it’s too much! So guess what? The last thing I want to do right now is have sex!”

Three flummoxed faces of concern stared back at you as they each realized they’d severely miscalculated the reveal. Apparently you looked so pathetic it dispelled any of their urges to argue about it, the reminder that you were pregnant seemingly enough to shut them up and send them straight to contrition. Plus, they were probably still hopeful they could get some action later if they apologized right away.

“I’m sorry baby,” Marc began, pulling you to his chest, “We wanted this to be fun, but…”

“Somos estúpidos,” Jake finished for him, “Even with separate bodies, we all think with the head between our legs.”

Steven spoke next, “Take all the time you need, my love. We don’t even have to…do anything naughty. We just want to be with you like…as…as us.”

“Uh, no. We have to fuck,” Jake disagreed.

Before you could snipe back at Jake, you remembered something Marc had told you about the last time they were separated. Their entire journey through the Duat, Jake had been trapped in a sarcophagus. Despite being married to them, you couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to share your body, your life, with two other people the way they did.

So of course having a body of your own, especially if there was a clock on it, would be a momentous occasion, and it warmed your heart in a funny, roundabout way that Jake wanted to share this precious time with you as intimately as possible.

Therefore, you found yourself cackling at his remark. The three of them watched you dumbstruck.

“I think we broke her,” Marc muttered under his breath.

When you finally regained your breath and a modicum of your senses back, you proposed, “How about this…we make an early dinner to fuel up for um…the night ahead, shall we say? It’ll give me some time to adjust. Deal?”

It took about an hour, but you did calibrate to having multiple husbands in your flat. Jake and Marc were parked on the couch flipping between games on the telly and arguing over scores, players, and stats while Steven and you camped in the kitchen.

Steven had volunteered to make dinner, and you instantly offered to assist him, figuring that keeping your hands busy would help quiet your racing mind. The pair of you chopped vegetables and, in everyone but Steven’s case, chicken, to make a soup that would be hearty enough to sustain any physical exertion later but light enough so as not to hinder it.

“This is bizarre, innit?” Steven asked while he stirred the broth.

“Bizarre doesn't even begin to cover it,” you confessed. “I mean, I know crazy superhero magic shit like this happens, but never to me.”

“When Marc first told me he served Khonshu, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard.”

You laughed at Steven’s frankness. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he echoed, his face splitting into a beatific grin. The two of you leaned across the stove to kiss each other. Neither of you hurried to break it. In fact, Steven slipped his tongue between the seam of your lips, while you turned to wrap your arms around him properly.

You nearly forgot the other two men were there until you were both startled apart by Jake whistling and crowing, “Ey! Save it for later!”

“Entonces vas a ayudarnos con la comida?” you shot back at him without any real heat.

Several moments transpired while you ate in which you lapsed into an astonished silence. Though you were no stranger to your husband being co-conscious, there was something even more wondrous about all three of them having to interrupt each other to speak, though despite their separate bodies, each man tended to talk over the other still.

Marc and Jake were put on cleanup duty, and Steven captured you in his arms once again. He dotted kisses from your clavicle, up the length of your neck, culminating at the extra sensitive spot behind your right ear. “How do you want to do this?”

You mewled at the pressure of his lips on your skin. “Mmmm, I wanna take a shower and primp a bit. Marc had a point earlier, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, might as well make the most of it, right?”

“Whatever you want,” he rumbled into your ear. You could feel Steven’s cock stir as he pressed himself into you.

A devilish smirk danced across your lips. “Wanna look extra fuckable for all of you.”

“Bloody hell, babe,” Steven’s hips stuttered against your leg. He leaned in to kiss you more, but you dodged him, instead scampering away toward the bathroom and throwing a cheeky look over your shoulder.

Beyond the fact that you knew that Jake would want to fuck you in the ass and you needed to prepare accordingly, it occurred to you that your insistence on getting dolled up was just as much for your benefit as it was for your partners. You were about to be more vulnerable than you’d ever been in a sexual situation, and though it was with the people you loved and trusted most in the world, sometimes confidence was best found from the outside-in. So you shaved your legs, styled your hair, made up your face, and slipped into the lingerie that you’d grabbed from your dresser before you retreated into the en-suite.

You examined the finished product of your efforts in the mirror. Your bump wasn’t quite a bump yet at just over twelve weeks, you just looked perennially bloated. You tried to smooth the frown from your face, reminding yourself that you weren’t fat, but instead growing a little life inside of you, the culmination of you and your husband’s love. Nevertheless, you adjusted the straps of the microscopic thong you’d squeezed yourself into to try and create a more flattering shape. After fluffing your hair one more time, you decided you were as ready as you’d ever be.

READ PART TWO

A/N: Eh? We like? Y’all are always so encouraging but if you feel compelled to leave any feedback I could really use it this time around!!!

Translations:

Nunca lo necesité - I never needed it

Disfrutaría el desafío - I will enjoy the challenge

No voy a perder otro segundo teniendo que escucharte un parloteo. No tenemos todo el día aquí - I'm not going to waste another second having to listen to you babble. We don't have all day here

Todo esta bien - Everything is ok

Este pendejo - This asshole

Oye, vete a la mierda pequeño - Hey, look here you little shit

Por qué no? Vas a trabajar cada día, ¡pero tal vez nunca volvamos a estar así! - Why not? You go to work every day, but we may never be like this again!

Somos estupidos - We’re stupid

Entonces vas a ayudarnos con la comida - Then are you going to help us with the food?

Taglist:

@twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042-blog @nikitawolfxo, @weirdo125 @damnzelsoul @missmarmaladeth @welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @thatgirlshady

1K notes · View notes

thatssonanii · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter One

A/N: This is the beginning of Zilla and Moriah's journey. It may be a little choppy but it'll get smoother starting with the next chapter! Excuse any errors I missed! Enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, implied smut, cursing, 18+ only

Prologue

Laughter, singing, and kids screaming happily outside the house could be heard inside. The Fatu family were no strangers to a good barbecue and never needed a reason to have one but this one was special. An honor must of them honestly thought they would never get. But while all the fun was had on the outside, half of the guests of honor was in the bedroom.

"It already started, Mama, like two hours ago. You said you were coming."

"Okay so if I already told you that I'm coming then why call me, Moriah?"

"Because you're not here yet, Mama. You're never late, you hate being late." She huffed.

The door opened catching Moriah's attention, Zilla slipped in closing the door behind himself. He mouthed "who that?" to her to which she put the call on speaker.

"Moriah, please. It's a barbecue, those things never end. I'll get there when I get there."

Again, Moriah huffed. "Just please come soon, Mama."

"I will now stop frowning. You're gonna wrinkle."

To that Moriah rolled her eyes then mouthed for Zilla to speak to her. He hesitated for a moment until his saw her brow raise.

"What's goin' on, Ms. Nadine? How you doin'?"

Nadine grunted audibly. "Hello, Isayah. I'm doing well. And you?"

Moriah put the call on mute for a second, "Please don't. You know she is." She took the call off mute.

"Good to hear that, ma'am. I'm well also."

"I'm sure. Moriah?"

"Ma'am?"

"Don't call again unless something is wrong. I'll get there when I get there."

Zilla waited for her to get off the phone then did it from her hands and into the pocket of his basketball shorts. He pulled her up from the bed then moved his hands to her waist, holding her body against his. She stared up at him with a frown on her face.

"Talk to Zilla. Tell Zilla what's wrong."

"She's being annoying, she's gonna wait until way later to come and when she does come she's gonna act all stank."

He pecked her lips. "Since you know that's how she gon act then it's a good thing she's not coming until later. You still got time to enjoy yourself. Right?"

She mocked him playfully. "Yeah but it's been a year, she shouldn't still be acting like that about us being together."

"I appreciate that you upset about how she feel about me but don't. Ms. Nadine ain't liked me since we was kids, man," he laughed, "And me going away ain't help that shit. She may not ever like me and you gotta be aight with that never changing or that shit gon eat at you and ruin us. Feel me?"

Moriah scrunched her face up at him, "They send your ass to therapy a few times and now you Dr. Phil. Get on my nerves making sense."

He laughed heartily, one of his hands coming up to clutch his chest. "You got jokes but I'm forreal. I'm good whether she with us or not. As long as I got you and you got me, we got all we need. Aight?"

"Aight, Zay."

His hands moved down to her ass, giving it a tight grip."That's right. Gimmie kiss so we can get out there, the fam was looking for you."

"Thought we were gonna have to come looking for yall. Yall was hidin? Tryna make babies?" Jacob asked jokingly from the grill.

Moriah thumped his neck as she passed him. "Hush up. Ain't nobody making no babies. Mama, get him!"

Laughing, Leata looked up from the bubbles she was opening for the kids.

"Leave them alone, Jacob. No babies for them right now, they have more important things to do."

Zilla went to bump shoulders playfully with him, "I ain't been in there but like five minutes. It take a whole lot longer than that. Ain't that right, Fat?"

Moriah stared at him, trying to hold her laughter as her cheeks heated up. "You're embarrassing, stop talking to me."

"Moriah," Leata called out, "Sau ia ma ua."

After giving Zilla a kiss, Moriah followed Leata to a quiet corner of the backyard. The two of them hadn't been able to talk as much as they're used to with them trying to get all the last minute things together for the barbecue and all the company wanting to speak to them respectively.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Just wanted to talk to you before things get really hectic," she explained, watching everybody else, "This past year has been the best that Zilla has had in years. Literally years. And having you by his side has been amazing to see. You two have always worked so well together."

Listening intently, Moriah never took her eyes off of the older woman. She wanted to soak in all of her words, not miss a beat. Their relationship is something she has always treasured.

"I've been there with you both as you both have been building up to this moment. I've been there to support, to help, to hold, to referee," she joked, making them both laugh, "But now you two are about to be on the other side of the country doing your things that you've worked so hard far and I won't be there physically. Although I am only one call away, you two have to remember that all you have is each other."

Moriah spoke softly, "Yes ma'am."

"Eventually you'll build a circle that you both can lean on when necessary but for now it's Zilla and Fat, Fat and Zilla. When my son is too stubborn to remember that, because he will be," she chuckled, "You remind him of that. Remind him of what you're both fighting for and where you both came from."

"I will. He's gonna hate hearing it repeatedly," she laughed, "But I'm gonna tell him, Ma."

Leata finally turned her gaze to Moriah, tears in her eyes that she didn't let fall and a smile on her face. "You both are gonna do amazing, I'll visit whenever I can and remember that alcohol cancels out your birth control."

The sun was nearly setting by the time Nadine made an appearance, unfortunately for her though barbecue had only slowed a little. She entered through the backyard gate, carrying a medium sized gift bag and a slight frown on her face. Her eyes scanned the yard until they landed on her daughter, her frown lifted slightly seeing Moriah.

"Nadine, I'm glad you could make it. You can sit the gift on the table if you'd like," Leata offered as she approached.

Nadine shook her head. "Thank you but no, I wanna give it to her myself. You decorated nicely, I like it."

"I can't take all the credit, Rye helped me out with it. Listen, can we talk before you speak to them?"

Although Nadine didn't want to, she obliged. She didn't really have an issue with Leata, not a big one anyway. She followed Leata into the house and into the kitchen. The two of them sat at the breakfast table.

"She's been looking for you all day, wondering when you were gonna show up."

"She so dramatic," Nadine chuckled, "I told that girl I was coming. Is that what you wanted to talk about? 23 years old and acting like this, yet she's getting ready to move across the country. Tuh."

Leata sat quietly for a moment trying to choose her words carefully as not to upset Nadine. "I get it, she's your only baby and she's growing up, moving away … it's difficult to deal with. He's not my only but he is my baby so I get feeling apprehensive about the whole move. What makes me feel better is knowing that they're gonna have each other."

"Her leaving doesn't make me apprehensive. I expected her to leave and take on a career." Nadine explained flatly. "But what I am apprehensive about and what I did not expect is my daughter making this move because of your son. Making this move with nothing but one car, their clothes and a few personal items."

"Moriah is not making this move because of my son, Nadine. Moriah and Zilla made this decision together after he'd been offered a contract." Leata snapped back. "She may not have a job yet but it'll come. Any hospital would be happy to have her. And yeah they may not have a lot of material items but they have somewhere to lay their heads at night."

The two women calmly went back and forth for the next ten minutes about their children and their plan. Neither planned on backing down from their positions but were able to keep it respectful, which was the hardest for Leata. She couldn't understand why Nadine was so against their relationship and their move. Jacob had walked in on the conversation then walked right back, he let Moriah know that her mother had made it.

"Who knows how long they've been in there," Moriah groaned. "Let me get in there. You coming, babe?"

A part of him wanted to say no but he knew he couldn't let her go alone so he nodded.

"But listen calm down before you get in there. You was havin' a good time, enjoyin' yourself until you found out she was here. Don't let her ruin your mood like that. Aight? Promise me."

"But I," Zilla raising his brows stopped her, "Okay, I promise. I'm calm."

Nodding, Zilla turned his girlfriend around and gently guided her towards the house. When they got inside, the mothers were still going back and forth which made Moriah internally groan.

"Hey, Mama. You look petty."

Getting up from her chair, Nadine finally smiled as she hugged her daughter tight. Zilla and Leata watched them, making eye contact with each other when they realized Moriah held her hands at her side for most of the hug. Nadine let her go, checking out the outfit.

"Thank you. You look cute, showing those legs today I see."

"Thanks. I know you see Zilla behind me, Mama."

"Hmm," she glanced at the young man then stepped around her daughter to hug him briefly, "Of course I did. Couldn't miss him, he's attached to your hip. How are you, Isayah?"

He chuckled, ignoring her slight shade. "I'm good, Ms. Nadine. I do be attached to her hip, if I could get in her skin I'd be there too I can't lie. How you doing though? You good? You aight, Ms. Nadine?"

"I just bet you would. I'm fine, Isaiah." She huffed turning back to her daughter. "Did you tell your father about your big move?"

"Told him when I told you. He excited about it, Mama. I wish you would be too." She admitted honestly.

"Well don't waste a wish on that cause it won't ever happen."

Moriah knew she promised her boyfriend that she would be calm and relaxed but her mother was grating her last nerve into dust. She punched the bridge of her nose momentarily. "Why are you being such a butt about this, Ma? Just be happy for me, even if you don't like him do it for me."

"Moriah DeBreaux, did you just call me an ass? Absolutely not, ma'am. Unacceptable."

"Well that's what you're acting like. I would like for you to be happy for me," she stressed. "We're leaving in the morning and you can't even try to act happy."

Watching her daughter with a brow raised, Nadine waited until she was sure Moriah was done. She stepped closer to her daughter, maintaining eye contact.

"I love you, Moriah. I love you so much that I don't wanna see you ruin your life but I wish you and him luck on your move. I hope that I'm wrong and it's everything you ever wanted." A faint smile showed on Moriah's face as she readied herself to hug her mother but was stopped. Zilla moved to stand behind his girlfriend, putting his hands on her shoulders and Leata watched from her seat at the breakfast table. "However, if I'm right and you realize that this move and this relationship was a terrible decision like I said it was, you are always welcome back home with me. I won't even say I told you so."

"It's probably best if you leave, Nadine. That's enough." Leata spoke softly. "They're leaving at 5 tomorrow morning if you would like to see them off."

Before leaving Nadine gave Moriah her gift, Leata excused herself so the young couple could talk. Knowing she was down, Zilla massaged her shoulders quietly giving her space to talk when she was ready. It was no secret to anyone in their lives how Nadine felt about him and the relationship, it was also no secret about the way Nadine's feeling made Moriah feel. While it was no skin off Zilla's back, his girlfriend's feelings mattered to him.

"She could've just turned down the invite. Hell, I shouldn't have even invited her and all of this would've been avoided," she expressed into the air. "I see why my dad got outta that house."

Zilla hummed, letting her know he was listening. She chuckled humorlessly as she opened the gift bag making him peer over her shoulder into the bag.

"What's that?"

Moriah started to take the items out of the bag, sitting them on the table. "Ring doorbell, a set of towels and washcloths, and a box of condoms that wouldn't fit you if we tried."

He chuckled a bit, "Damn so she don't think I can keep you safe or clean and my dick small. Damn, that's fucked up."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her as she turned to face her boyfriend. Taking his face into her hands, she pulled him down to kiss him through her laughs.

"I guess so but we know better."

He pecked her lips a few times then reached for the box of condoms, studying the box with a slight smirk on his face. "She really looked at me and said extra small. That shit wild. What you told her, Fat?"

The way her eyes lit up as she threw her head back and laughed, made him laugh with her. He loved to see that smile on her face, he'd do whatever he could to keep it there.

"I ain't tell her nothing, Zay. Especially not that. I'm not even sure an extra small would fit on your finger,"

"Shid, let's find out," he laughed, opening the box. He pulled one out, bringing it to his mouth to tear it open without missing the look on her face. "What? What you lookin at me like that for?"

She scrunched her face, feeling her body heat up a little. "I don't think I've ever seen you open a condom before, that's all."

"It's usually already open," he shrugged, tossing the paper onto the counter once he got the condom out, "You like that?"

She nodded slowly. "Yup."

"Noted," he responded, focused on balancing the condom on his index finger, "Roll it down fa' me, Fat."

The intrusive thoughts were getting to her but she pushed them aside to do what he asked. Carefully, she rolled it down his finger not being able to hold her giggles in. He laughed with her as he waited for her to finish.

"Look like it fit," he joked, flexing his finger at her. "But it damn sho ain't gon fit nowhere else."

"It ain't but why she felt the need to get the lubricated one," Moriah laughed, wiping the residue on her shorts.

"Guess she tryna say you need a lil help," he laughed, dodging her hit, "I'm just saying, man. Come 'ere so I can test this out."

She backed away from him, laughing. "Oh uhn uhn, no. Your family is out there."

"And you ain't ever cared any other time." He took another step towards her while she took one back. "You gon make me chase you, Fat? Come 'ere, girl."

Fifteen hours after they said their goodbyes in Houston, Moriah and Zilla arrived in Orlando at the apartment complex they would call home for the foreseeable future. They laughed, they cried, they argued a bit on their drive but it was all worth it. The leasing manager was nice enough to wait on their arrival to hand off their keys even though it was after seven when they arrived. Moriah had slept through the last leg of the drive and Zilla getting the keys which he was more than okay with. He wanted to surprise her in a way.

Parking in front of their building, Zilla shook her gently speaking softly to her.

"Come on, Fat. Time to wake up, babygirl." He leaned across the seat to kiss her face. "Get on up, Fat."

Moriah slowly woke from her nap, rubbing at her face and looking around. "Where are we, babe?"

He smiled widely, dangling their keys. "We home, baby."

For the next couple of hours, they worked together on bringing their belongings up to their second floor, one bedroom apartment and getting it unpacked. The bulk of their things were their clothes and all the gifts from the barbecue. They were thankful his mom had the idea to make it a housewarming/going away barbecue. They'd gotten so many gifts from family and friends of items they would need for their apartment. They're favorite gift after that long drive was the air mattress, one of his aunts had gotten them. Instead of taking their bed across country, they opted to buy a new one whenever they could once in Florida.

"Where you want the TV and the bed?" He asked, pulling his shirt over his head then wiped his sweat with it.

"Uuh we can go head and put it in the bedroom, babe. No need in us sleeping in the living room when we have a room." He nodded, going to start inflating the bed. She continued to stock their kitchen items away. "I'm gonna order dinner! What do you want?"

"I'll eat whatever! Don't matter to me," he yelled from the bedroom.

She mumbled a joke under her breath, laughing softly at it. Once she was done, she ordered Chipotle for them then went to check on him. Zilla was putting the final touches on the now made up bed, it brought a smile to Moriah's face.

"You're much better at that than I am," she joked, approaching him. She leaned up on her toes to kiss him. "Looks good."

"Thank you. You ordered the food already?"

"Yeah, should be here in like 30 minutes."

"Bet. Ima take a shower before it gets here. You good before I do that?" He saw a familiar look pass her face before she shook her head. "You sure? Cause every time I ask and you say no, you get to yellin' my name while I'm tryna wash my ass."

She laughed, flicking his arm. "I do not do that all the time but I'm sure. Go, go wash ya stank butt. Go."

After his shower and hers, the couple sat on their living room floor eating their dinner together. Since they got back together, they made it a point to eat together whenever they were together.

"You tell Booker you made it?"

He nodded, taking a moment to chew and swallow his food."I did and he told me to let Hunter know too. So did that."

"Aaaand," Moriah pushed, barely containing her excitement.

"Told me to be at the PC at 8 tomorrow ready to work."

Moriah put her food aside then moved closer, throwing her arms around him, careful of his food. She kissed his face repeatedly. "I'm so proud of you, Zay. You better be proud of yourself too. You're gonna be great, everybody already love you so you have nothing to worry about."

She felt him deflate under her so she hugged him tighter. His thoughts rushed to him, too many at one time bouncing off of the walls of his mind.

"What if I fuck it up?" He asked softly.

"What if you kill it? They wouldn't have went out their way to offer a contract, let alone let you negotiate up if they didn't think you could do it, Zay." She coached softly as she rubbed his head. "Don't overthink this. Booker is gonna be there with you and you know wherever you go, your dad is there too."

He kissed her arm, pulling away from the hug. "Yeah, thank you. What you gon get up to tomorrow? I'm prolly gon be gone all day."

Moriah knew what that meant, the conversation about him was over and maybe they would circle back but she wouldn't hold her breath on it. She went back to her spot, noticing the small smile on his face.

"Get our internet and cable turned on, maybe put the ring camera up and depending on how those two go I'm either gonna get groceries delivered or Uber to get it."

"Shit," he mumbled, "If you wanna take the car, you can drop me off or I'll uber. I ain't even think about it."

She waved him off with her fork back in her hands, "I'm fine, I promise. You take the car."

"You don't need to be in no strange car, Fat. I'm serious."

"Okay so I won't uber, I'll get it delivered. Deal?" She asked, trying to end it. "I honestly don't feel like leaving the apartment anyway."

Eyeing her for a second, he accepted her words and went back to his food. The thought of him potentially being too busy to answer the phone if she was in trouble didn't feel good to him. It was the two of them now and he took protecting her even more seriously.

"Aight but I mean it, don't let me find out you did that shit anyway, Moriah. I ain't playin."

"Okay, Daddy Zilla," she joked, trying to make him laugh, "I promise that I won't uber without you. Scouts honor."

"When you gon apply to them hospitals? Or you finally stopped being hard headed and ain't gon work like I suggested?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Wanting to work is not being hard headed, baby. I didn't go to school all this time and stress me, you and your mom out tryna study for that test just to not use my degree, Zilla. Oh I'm working in somebody hospital."

They laughed together, Zilla threw his napkin at her catching her in the forehead.

"When you put it that way, hell yeah yo ass finna go to work," he added, "I ain't get none for like a month fuckin with that test that you was cryin' bout. So back to my original question, when you gon apply?"

She mocked him through her laughter. "Shut up, I was not that bad but I'm gonna do it tomorrow while I have peace and quiet."

"I caught that shade but that's fine, don't be kissin' on me when I get home tomorrow since you said that. I'm proud of you though. Can't wait for you to get on so I can slide up there to see you," he rubbed his hands thinking about it, "If ion see you ima ask them to page Nurse Fat for me. Tell em I'm feelin' a lil feverish."

"Boy," she fell out laughing, "Do not come harassing me at my job. Ima call security."

"Damn I can't come see my lady at work. I'm tryna see you in ya scrubs and shit and take you to lunch but you gon call them people on me. That's cold, Fat. Real cold."

After dinner, the couple cleaned up and got ready for the next day. Their wind down ended with them relaxing comfortably on their air mattress. Neither of them realized how tired they were from their cross country trek until that moment. Knowing they would both fall asleep soon, Zilla facetimed his mom so they both could hear her voice before drifting off.

"My babies," she smiled as soon as her face came into view, "You both look worn out."

Zilla pulled his girlfriend closer, her back to his front, resting his head on her slightly.

"Cause we are," She giggled softly. "Especially after being so alert with road rage here driving."

Laughing, he spanked her thighs playfully. "That's you with that road rage, staring people down and shit."

Leata interrupted through her laughter knowing the two of them would continue to go back and forth. "Well either way, I'm glad you two made it. Call me tomorrow, let me know how things went. I love you both."

"Love you too," the couple responded simultaneously.

As the words were leaving their lips, Zilla and Moriah were falling asleep. Leata's voice being the ultimate comfort for them. She watched them a while longer and prayed for them both before ending their call.

#AAO #zilla & moriah #zilla fatu #the samoan dynasty #the bloodline

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purereflectionsworld · 6 months ago

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WIP Wednesday (belated)

Thank you so much for tagging me, @sparkleplatypuswriter ! So very excited about the Aleida chapter of your Brazil fic ❤️ - WIP linked here! I think a lot of lovely FAM writers have been tagged already but maybe not @caffeinatedcrab and @flamingo24 ?

So after I re-watched the sweet scene in the “Leningrad” episode of For All Mankind where Margo is laser focused on trying to catch a good glimpse of Aleida on the video feed, clearly missing her desperately, my brain cooked up a little scene set partway through “Legacy.” The premise is that Margo is trying to respect Aleida’s desire for her to stay clear of her personal life, but she can’t help it when an opportunity to snoop just a little bit falls into her lap. Here is a snippet from that scene. It may very well show up in an epilogue/flash forward in my current Margo-Aleida fic (link here) or somewhere else.

You don’t get to ask me about my family or my son again. Understand?

It takes a day for Margo to recover from those words. What’s most painful to her is the way Aleida delivered them, with such quiet conviction. It would have been easier, somehow, had she yelled.

By the second day, the resignation has settled in. She’s going to respect Aleida’s request not to pry into her family life. She owes her that, at least. Aleida won’t have to worry about her fishing for details from her ex-colleagues, either. No one at NASA will even talk to Margo, except Eli Hobson. And she’s noticed that Hobson gets skittish if she ever so much as brings up Aleida in conversation. It’s clear that he’s aware of their tension.

But still, she wonders.

Aleida’s vivid description of the post-bombing aftermath - back in that Leningrad hotel room - had glaringly left out any indication of how Aleida’s own personal life had evolved since that day. Margo is now certain that this omission was entirely intentional.

Of course, Margo remembers that Aleida had been separated from Victor at the time of the bombing. She has spent more time than she’d ever admit carefully studying the ring Aleida currently wears on her left hand, and she’s 95% sure it’s the same one she was wearing in 1995. But there are only so many ways a low-profile gold wedding band can look, and the 5% sliver of doubt eats at her. Of course, it shouldn’t matter who Aleida is with now, as long as she is happy, and co-parenting Javi with a reasonable degree of success. But when she recalls the look on Victor’s face when they’d spoke of Aleida, that night she’d first met him in the JSC lobby and he’d feared their relationship might be over - and the look on his face at their wedding, watching Aleida walk down the aisle toward him - she feels strangely unsettled.

On the second day of asteroid capture mission discussions at NASA’s office, seating arrangements have become rather less formal. Aleida arrives just in time for the meeting, and the only seat left is directly next to Margo. She slips into the chair but doesn’t look at Margo once for the entire first hour.

Hobson calls a five minute break, and Aleida excuses herself to the restroom. Margo stays in her seat chatting with Hobson, who’s on Aleida’s other side. As Hobson drones on and on, she sees a sudden flash of light, and realizes that Aleida’s cell phone - sitting face up on top of her notes - has lit up with a text message. When she glances down and sees the sender’s name in capital letters - VIC - she can’t resist. She’s desperate to see whether it’s the going to the grocery store before I come home tonight, do you need anything type of message, or the going on a work trip in two weeks, know it’s not your scheduled week but can you take Javi type of message.

It turns out to be a different type of message entirely. *

#for all mankind #margo x aleida #margo madison #aleida rosales

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bridgeportbritt · 9 months ago

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The Brown Residence | Brindleton Bay, Simerica

???: Hey, fam! I'm home!

???: Jenny! Hi, sweetness. How are you?

Jennifer: I'm good, mom. How are you? Where's Dad and Dennis?

Rainbow: I'm alright. They'll probably come down once they smell the food. Want to help me in the kitchen?

Jennifer: Yeah, sure.

Rainbow: So, what time is your friend coming over?

Jennifer: Pretty soon. He's coming straight from work.

Rainbow: Ah okay. Dennis spoke pretty highly of him.

Jennifer: Yeah, they seemed to hit it off at Halloween. Hopefully, you and Dad do too.

Rainbow: Hopefully, he's as great as ya'll say. Help me stir those veggies will you?

Jennifer: I think you will think so. He's got a good job, comes from a good family, plus he's really funny and thoughtful.

Rainbow: And where'd you meet him?

Jennifer: Remember when I was volunteering at the homeless shelter last summer? He was volunteering there, as well.

Rainbow: Okay, that's a good sign. 'Cause I have read some other things that-

???: Smells good in here! Must be a dynamic duo in the kitchen!

Jennifer: Hi, Dad!

Dennis Sr: Hi, baby girl. How are you?

Jennifer: I'm good. How are you?

Dennis Sr.: Well, I hear there's a boy coming over so I could be better.

Jennifer: Dad. He's great, I promise. You're going to love him.

Dennis Sr.: I hope so. Can't just let anyone snatch up my Baby Girl.

Jennifer: These are examples of things you all shouldn't say when my boyfriend is here.

DJ: Good luck, these two run away all my ladies.

Jennifer laughs: Hi, Dj.

Rainbow: And what ladies are these? The ones you have plastered all over your bedroom wall? Bring a real girl over here and then we'll talk.

DJ: Dang, mom. You stay cramping my style.

Jennifer chuckles: I'm sure the ladies love DJ.

Doorbell rings

The Browns in Unison: Come in!

Gianni: Hello, Brown family!

Jennifer: Hi, Gianni. You're just in time for dinner. You already know DJ, this is my mom, Rainbow, and my dad, Dennis.

Dennis Sr.: Hi there!

Rainbow: Welcome, Gianni.

Jennifer: Here. I'll take your coat. Have a seat.

Gianni: This food tastes amazing! You did a great job, J, Mrs. B.

Jennifer: Thanks, Gianni. I'm glad you like it.

Rainbow: Thank you. I'm guessing you don't have home cooking a lot with your parents away.

Gianni: Yeah, my mom wasn't much of a cook, but I can't complain. Always ate good.

Dennis Sr. laughs: I'm sure you did! I can't imagine food cooked by Royal chefs is all that bad!

Gianni chuckles: Yeah, it's alright.

Rainbow: And what about your dad's side? You know before he... went to jail.

DJ: Someone's been doing their homework...

Jennifer: Mom...

Rainbow: What? I'm just trying to get to know him. Isn't that what we're here for?

Gianni: It's okay! Really. I'm an open book.

Rainbow: Good. Because I read this article. Let me pull it up. Ah "New Flavor of the Week: Gianni Spotted with 5th Girl this Month." I'd love for you to be open about that.

Jennifer: Please excuse my mother. You don't have to answer these questions if you don't want to. You know I don't care about that kind of stuff.

Gianni: No, I don't want anyone to have any doubt about me. Yes, I used to... date around. You know, young, single, wealthy guy in Del Sol.

Rainbow: And what about now? Is Jennifer the new flavor of the week?

Gianni: No. Jennifer isn't a flavor. She's more like an enhancer. She makes everything better, including me. She's more than what I need or deserve. I'm really lucky to have her.

Jennifer: Aw, thanks, Gianni.

Rainbow: Mhmmm. Good answer.

DJ: That was smooth, man. I'm taking notes.

Rainbow: Maybe you should be taking notes, so you can finally bring home one of these ladies you keep talking about!

Laughter

DJ laughs: Why you keep coming for me, Ma?

Jennifer: Don't worry! We know your time is coming, DJ! But it might help if you left this house.

Dennis Sr.: House? Try his room!

Laughter

DJ: Alright, I'm eating upstairs.

Dennis Sr.: Well, it looks like you survived the interrogation portion of the evening, son. Now we've moved on to the roasting portion. You still interested in being involved with this family?

Gianni: Well... I imagine I can't take a roast to seriously from a family who still has their Halloween decorations up for some reason? It's nearly Spring!

Laughter

Jennifer: And they are so tacky, too!

DJ: The tackiest!

Rainbow: Tell that to that big hat you're wearing at the dinner table!

Laughter

#simdonia #chap 12 #well that went pretty good!#I feel like Gianni could fit in with this fam #her parents had to meet g before they leave for SimDonia #makes me wonder how Bria and rainbow sould get along lol #sims of color #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #ts4 #royal sims #royal simblr #sim: jennifer #sim: gianni #sim: rainbow #sim: dennis #sim: dennis sr

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sushiburritonoms · 7 months ago

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New ETN/GT Fic

I wrote this for Matpat's retirement in March and look at me, right on time as always.

Matthew Patrick's Home for Imaginary Friends and Biblical Abominations

Rating: Gen, no ships, comedy, could be considered crack I guess

Summary: Stephanie Patrick has made a lot of adjustments and sacrifices ever since her husband came back from Everlock and has come out of the other side a stronger person. But six years later, Matthew and Nikita finally achieve the impossible and bring Joey Graceffa back from Pandora’s Box...along with something else. What do you do when your husband accidentally releases the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

You hire them for Youtube of course.

Basically a fusion of Game Theory lore and ETN, featuring Stephanie, Jason, Tom, Lee, Santi, Amy, Mirror Matt, Ash, and a ton of other Theorist cameos and easter eggs. Its the new channel hosts as the Four Horsemen; this will NOT make sense if you don't follow the Theorist channels.

Fic Snippet is below the cut.

Hey Death, whatcha doing?”

“Go away, Fam, I’m busy!”

“You’re busy in MY space! Aren’t you supposed to be off reaping innocent babies or kittens or something?!”

“For the last time, we are GUESTS; you don’t own the space, you glutinous half-wit! Leave me alone!”

“Matt! Matt, Death is messing with your kitchen!!”

“GUYS! I’M ON THE PHONE!”

Stepping into her own kitchen wasn’t supposed to feel like a SAE mission. But Steph kept a flask of holy water and a crucifix in her Lululemon hip bag as she made her way over from the stairwell. The moment she made her presence known, she saw sickly green flames brighten to life in the blank sockets of Death’s skull face.

“Ah! Stephanie! So good of you to join us.” Death nodded his head politely and lifted a skeletal hand to tug at his black hood as though it were some sort of dapper hat. His upper-class London accent made the act feel less ridiculous and more like proper gentleman behavior.

“…Hi.” Steph was never going to get used to how terrifying it was to see green fire instead of eyeballs, especially since Death towered several feet over her and Matthew. Speaking of which… “I thought I heard Matthew’s voice.”

“He went downstairs,” a smooth voice chimed in from behind Death’s black robe. “With the other dude and the chick.”

Death snorted. “Eloquent and informative as ever.”

“She knows who I’m talking about! Now move your nonexistent ass; some of us are trying to work here!”

Steph saw a thick human arm swat at Death’s cloak, and the living personification of Famine stepped into Steph’s view.

Famine grinned at her with a very normal and healthy-looking human male face. Thank God. She would take his human form any day over the emaciated, decayed corpse that was his true form. Today, he was favoring a physique that had very broad shoulders and thick muscular biceps that strained against a baby blue shirt with some anime character imprinted on it. Matthew would surely know the show, but she did not. He had a round tan face with a salt and pepper beard and very mischievous eyes that were partially hidden behind thick black glasses. He eagerly held out one of her mixing bowls, which was filled near to the brim with something that smelled utterly delicious.

“I’m making snacks!”

“Thank you, Famine. That’s very sweet of you.” Steph couldn’t help but break into a smile. “Is this the same body you wore yesterday?”

Famine nodded vigorously. “Matt said we need to pick a body and stick with it. I like this one. Check out my GUNS!” He set the bowl down on the countertop beside him and flexed one of his thick arms at Steph.

Death scoffed. “Flesh is weak. Entropy is inevitable.”

“You’re just jealous because you can’t create anything other than the same lameo body you’ve had for centuries.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way my human form looks. Not all of us are vain like you and Pestilence.”

“Excuse you?”

Steph jumped. A small, slender woman with incredibly pale skin and long black hair suddenly sat cross-legged at one of Steph’s kitchen bar chairs. She wore a shoulderless black halter dress that went down to the floor, to where Steph could see the tips of shiny Doc Martens peeking out. On her face, she wore black eyeliner to outline her light blue eyes, which were intensely focused on Famine. She looked completely human except for one small detail. She had long, razor-sharp silver claws instead of nails resting elegantly in her lap, like ten slim stiletto daggers just waiting to be thrown.

Death shook his bony head. “How many times have I told you not to scare our hosts like that? Don’t make me put a bell around your tiny neck!”

“Hmm, I’d like to see you try,” Pestilence yawned into the palm of her hand, her claws flexing across her face. They were filed into sharp points and caught the light in a terrifying way. “Sorry to bother you, Steph, but Matt was looking for you and said you needed to be on his call. He’s with the Vessel and Nikita.”

“The dude and the chick!” Famine shrugged. “I said that already.”

“You are useless,” Death groaned.

Oh. Right. Matthew had said he was going to call Jason today. She’d completely forgotten that was happening.

You can continue the fic here

#escape the night #game theory #film theory #food theory #style theory #gt live #matpat #joey graceffa #santi massa #dapper mr tom #amy roberts #forrest lee #mirror matt #ash gt live #etn season 3 #etn #etn movie #sb fics

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dont-blame-it-on-the-kids · 8 months ago

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I have a question if it’s alright? Personally what do you think happened to Lin after Amon took her bending? Cause I doubt he would have just let her walk free bending or not. Cause like near the end she just pops back up. No escape scene or anything if Amon did imprison her.

*Looks at entire blog* uh yeah... I might have a few thoughts lmao <3

It is Perfectly Alright!!! I will always always enjoy any excuse to talk about After/During Amon shit yessssss

I have a few fics up about this! up on my Ao3, MIND THE TW TAGS I BEG YOU.

I have an OLD one about if Lin got off the island and how she tried to support the Krew and keep out of their way.

i have another idea where she was held in the cells pema and the kids were shoved into in later so she knew she failed to protect them after all.

I have another idea where shes held in a wooden cage in the Sato workshop so she could see the planes and machines being built but couldnt reach them.

I have the more recent fic about her being tortured for the days leading up to the rally. but she is uh, barely alive and that is not really canon compliant with the unexplained scene of Lin on the docks.

so if you're looking for a fully canon compliant take...

Amon did not let her off the island, they probably held her in that cell that they have in the ATI attic (for some reason?) she would have tortured for information, where the air fam was headed, where the Avatar was, ect. she would have been there when Tarrlok was tossed in, but I think maybe she was dragged out to the arena to be apart of the rally as a display of all the trophies Amon's collected the bending of. So no one knew where she was but she was probably with a bunch of other captives so she was found when the police cleared the building. So for keeping it canon compliant then any injuries would have been healed up with a healing sesh. (or she was hiding her injuries rather well)

as an aside, in the south

As to why Lin was there, I think Katara would have tried bloodbending to undo the damage bloodbending did. Lin allowed Katara to try several times on herself with no success.

I also fully believe Korra took Lin into the Avatar state with her so she could see Aang again and he could thank her and say he loved her and was proud of her and Aang could restore Lin's element to her.

#i have so many ideas about this #and they are never kind to lin lol #anonymous #after amon #my brand #please feel free to keep asking me questions #i love you sm #give me an excuse to rant about how they couldnt include the lin scenes cuz its a kids show #let me tell you about how they dont know Amon is dead #how they keep getting reports of him in the city #and how lin's hands tremble and she feels like she cant breathe when she reads those fucking words #how she stumbles her way to Saikhans at 3am after a nightmare left her in a hallucination/delusion and she is terrified Amon is after her #that he has the air kids

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deepwithintheabyss · 1 year ago

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AITA for punching my father?

I (2# M) punched my father (3# M) in the face last Tuesday, because i was tired of him making my younger siblings feel like shit. My family fully supports this, but my father hasn’t spoken to me since, or make any attempt. He has even left the continent in response.

So, AITA?

(Don’t mind my glaring lack of knowledge about their ages lol, so take this pathetic excuse for a post)

(this is why you should just go like (20-30 M) or (in my twenties M)

Dude #1

Info: Dude we can't answer that if we don't know why you did it, maybe try to include your reasoning next time

Dude #2

YTA: Violence is never the answer and you should know that, be happy that it's just your dad who turned on you, clearrly he had the right idea you should cut toxic people out of your live. What is wrong with your family for supporting you for that???

Dude #3

ESH: You clearly seem to have had a reason if your fam supports your action but you still suck for punching you, your dad is being am asshole though as well for running away and ignoring you he should at least try and resolve whatever happened

AITA for only wanting what's best for my son?

So my Son J (earlier 20's) has anger issues and problems with listening to authority or reason. He firmly believes that killing is the best option and that he is allowed to judge who is worthy of living or not.

He does not listen to my many attempts at talking him out of it and trying to reason with him that that is not the way it should be done or how the system works but he only shuts me out.

I have tried to be patient with him and offer him a better chance at living away from all the bad that has happened in his live but he only shuts me out and attempts to harm me.

I have found what I think is a good solution for the problem but now the rest of my family is calling me insane and unreasonable. They do not see that I am only trying to help J and have told me that I am worse than him. I think this is not fair as I have never and will never kill anyone and take someones's life.

I think it's a perfect solution to alter his brain chemistry and use panic inducing chemicals whenever he gets adrenaline bursts to ensure he keeps well out of fights and does not harm anyone anymore. So he can finally have the nice and quite live that he wanted.

So am I the asshole for trying to help my son have a better live??

#the abyss speaks #hello E #my asks #esfordays #fandom aita #gotham war spoilers #bruce wayne #some VERY skewed narrator pov in the second part lol #my writing #also lol this is just a quick drabble so little ooc (lot)

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lucysweatslove · 1 year ago

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TW/Content warning re: domestic violence, IPV, questioning. May be v. triggering for victims/survivors of DV and IPV especially those who were not believed. (btw it is NOT about me directly; I am in a loving and generally healthy relationship and I have never personally experienced DV (as a side-side note, one of my best friends has, we helped her get out))

So. My sister is visiting my parents atm. My mom's family reunion thing is going on rn and my sis drove up to attend. (I have just barely started to feel like Me again after Rural Site Adventure, hence opting out).

Background, p 1: my family has a fam friend we'll call N. N was a past student of my mom's, I think potentially a past client but I can't fully remember the story there. She is "in between" my parents' age and mine/my sister's- I'm not sure if she's technically a young Gen X or an older Millennial, but just to give some context regarding age. My family gave her a lot of support when she was getting her life set up, including financial support in the form of interest-free loans. When my little sis was tiny (she is very much Gen Z, still in high school), N lived with us and would help out a ton around the house, with child care, even doing things like chaperoning my dates when I was in high school. There was a bit of a blow-up idk how long ago where my mom felt like N was mothering my little sis too much and boundaries were getting mixed up, and then idk when but then they made up. I've been mostly out of the house for 12 years and totally living away from them for like 9 years, so I don't remember a lot of the specifics.

Background, p 2: My parents' relationship is not great. The gist is: a lot of infidelity from dad and my mom has a lot of emotional lability for as long as I can remember. She can get pretty mean and is prone to a lot of emotional manipulation and tactics like gaslighting, goalpost-moving, triangulation with me + my older sis, guilt-tripping, diminishing others' experiences... i mean we all do these things from time to time, but she does them very often and only on the VERY rare occasion does she take responsibility (I am not saying my dad's infidelity was caused by my mom's emotional lability or that it set off the emotional lability, and I'm not excusing anybody's behaviors; I think all of this is super multi-factorial). Early on when I was in college, before I really knew much, my dad sat us all down (with my mom, after talking with her) and confessed to his infidelity + said he was considering divorcing mom to be with the woman he was cheating with. I laid into him basically saying that running away from all of us wouldn't solve whatever lead to his cheating and make him happy. He already is once divorced (idk why/what happened with his prior marriage, he hadn't yet met my mom even so that wasn't it). I told him maybe he needs to figure out what HE needs to change rather than flitting around from person to person hoping it'll work out. He decided to stay, they went to therapy, there have been no signs of further incidence (not that it's impossible, but my mom also monitors everything his does including his whereabouts via his phone 24/7). Though my mom will say she's forgiven him, she doesn't act like it- and I get trust has been broken, but it extends further to like, financial control, eg, refusing to let my dad who is actually considered elderly now retire, won't let him buy a new speaker system while my mom takes multiple long international trips. And my parents are well-off. They have the money for all of that.

Okay now the issue.

Apparently N was talking with my sister and mentioned something about Mom and domestic violence. My sis asked if I've ever heard any of their issues phrased like that- and no, never. That alone doesn't mean much - although my mom has called BOTH of us in tearful crisis-mode before and has shared more than I think is appropriate, DV is like the one thing many victims/survivors hide and never actually speak up about.

But... my mom is not shy with her body around any of us. Not a nudist, but has no issue changing while talking with us, going to the bathroom with doors open. She has never "hidden" her body in any way at home. She will hide sometimes (choosing baggier clothing, longer sleeves or lengths) when she is out in public, but I think this is partly Mormon modesty and partly body image issues, as again, she has never taken any precautions to hide her body around us kids. In all my memorable life, I have never not once seen unexplained injuries on my mom. I have seen a few small bruises on legs or arms and not known exactly where they have come- but honestly, I would see them after she was doing manual type labor like moving wood, working outside, reorganizing the pantry, moving heavy furniture... and never bruises in a weird pattern or suspicious location, never multiple bruises in different stages of healing.

I also don't sleep well and often don't have a good 24 hr sleep cycle. I don't think I'm non-24, but my sleep/wake cycles are highly variable. My little sister would have night terrors, too, and wake up from them not remembering but also needing help settling back to bed (she would come and get me or ask to sleep in my room frequently). Since I was the only other person upstairs, I stayed up to listen for her terrors so I could be there when she woke up and she wouldn't have to toddle around to find support. This means that during middle school and all throughout high school, I very rarely slept throughout the night. This also means I heard many many many fights between my parents. I have also quietly tiptoed down the stairs to see what tf was going on more times than I can count. I have never seen any signs of physical aggression from my father in these arguments. Definitely both sides are v guilty of emotional and verbal abuse, which is still abuse and is still a problem. I'm just saying I have never seen outward aggression (hitting, punching, kicking, flailing, throwing anything at all, breaking anything, etc) nor have I seen posturing or yelling. More times than not, if somebody even raised their voice, it was my mom.

When I was a child and spanking was still a think "experts" recommended (apparently), my mom would tell my dad to spank me for a punishment, and my dad couldn't do it and would pretend- he would whisper to me that he was going to put his hand palm-up and smack his own hand so it "looked" real if my mom was watching, and I was to scream and cry so it sounded real.

My dad was a vet before he was a psychiatrist. He left vet medicine in part because he was so sad every time he had to put down an animal, or see animals being mistreated. We had many animals growing up from dogs to hamsters and rats and guinea pigs to horses and bird and fish and cats. 0 signs of aggression with them- the worst thing is when he's really mad because a dog went potty in the house he'd get kinda gruff and grumble and swear.

This does not mean that my dad cannot ever be aggressive, or has not ever been aggressive. This does not mean that when I'm not around he acts the same way. I'm not saying it is impossible, or that my mom is definitely lying or "lying by omission" and hinting that the verbal abuse has extended to physical abuse too. I'm not saying things haven't been hidden from me.

I'm just saying... in my nearly 3 decades of life, I have not once seen my dad be truly aggressive. Even while drunk- he's not aggressive, he gets giggly and silly and then tired and falls asleep. My sisters (both of them) have not seen anything, any signs. Even looking back retroactively- nothing that we can say "omg maybe that was a sign we missed." In the patterns I've seen, including where my parents don't know I'm witnessing it, my dad is a huge pushover and my mom will show more signs of anger and aggression. I am getting weird vibes from all of this, and I'm legitimately concerned about why my mom is saying / insinuating these things.

Edit bc I forgot a part that I wanted to share but got too distracted.

My mom also has had some health stuff. She has MGUS which is kinda like a blood pre-cancer, specifically for her it’s like pre-multiple myeloma, but progression is slow and prognosis is overall good. But, this was discovered during workup for pernicious anemia. There’s no real known time frame for how long she had pernicious anemia. B12 deficiency (a main cause of pernicious anemia) can lead to a host of psych stuff including cognitive slowing, confusion, changes in memory, depression, and sometimes even delirium or acute psychosis. She did do B12 shots but it’s been a while since she’s done them, I think. But during that time, her memories were WEIRD. Like she would mix up things between us kids frequently, invent random and totally benign memories (she was convinced I not only ran track in 4th/ 5th grade but was really good at it, when reality was I tried to get out of running in PE because it hurt my throat/burned to breathe while running).

When she was a child, there was also possibly some DV in the home? It’s kind of unclear what exactly happened, but it’s a real possibility. My granny had some form of psychosis at one point- again not sure exactly because this was a long time ago (my mom’s a boomer) but I was told had a gyn condition that would cause her hallucinate/send her into an acute psychotic state, and once she had a hysterectomy, she was better. There was speculation it was ovarian cysts (per my mother; also, not PCOS) but never a confirmation. I have had a burst ovarian cyst that sent me to the hospital and I thought I was dying from the pain, but no psychosis. Anyway. My sis and I wonder if she had a teratoma and had autoimmune encephalopathy.

The point tho, my granny would hallucinate something like dishes in the sink and tell my mom to do them, but there wouldn’t be any dishes to do. So then granny would think she was blatantly disobedient, and punishment back then sometimes was corporal. I don’t have details from my mom, so I don’t know what happened, but we now know that any corporal punishment is detrimental and essentially DV, so regardless of how far it went, it’s problematic.

So, what I’m getting at: my mom has historically had B12 deficiency bad enough to have serious pernicious anemia, and my sis and I noticed a major cognitive shift around that time. She would mix up memories all the time. Since she’s had it before, she could develop it again. And that could lead to increased irritability, cognitive change, MEMORY issues. And she likely has very real DV memories.

Me, wanting to see best in everybody bc I’m just the perfect picture of an optimist (sarcasm), wonders: what if my mom currently has pernicious anemia and B12 deficiency again to the point her memory and cognition are all kinds of messed up, and she’s confusing her real memories from her childhood with my dad? Especially if the same feelings (eg powerlessness) came up.

#cw domestic abuse #cw domestic violence #cw dv #cw ipv

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cypreus-and-willow · 1 year ago

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This takes place at the time Shuuj, Kaito and Miu are living with the Minase Fam but I don't think I can fit it in my main fic. Shuuji, of course, spends most of his time at the cave studying the murals. Kaito, on his quest to leave Miu alone, starts bothering Shuuji instead.

Kaito finds him on the floor of the cave, lying on his stomach, out of sight from any intruders. The whole place from the cave to the shrine has been cordoned off. Too dangerous to let civvies in.

"You sneaking past police tapes now?"

That only garners an amused huff from the older boy. "You're here too, aren't you? Besides, it's for the fate of the world."

"You're really good at giving excuses huh?"

"It's a specialty."

Kaito looks at the bottom of the wall where Shuuji’s straining his neck just to see a little bit of wall art. "Is that writing?" Kaito crouches lower.

"Mhm. The kemonogami realm has a fully developed writing system. We don't know if the kemono developed it themselves or if it was formed before the split.” Kaito gets the feeling he’s not really talking to him and more at him. He listens anyway. “The Professor can’t make it past the tapes right now since he’s so high profile. He taught me the writing when we were still stuck on the other side.” At that he deflates and lies perfectly still. “Maybe I should ask Haruchika-dono.”

“Pretty sure you don't have to call him dono,” is his only contribution to the conversation but what the heck.

Shuuji looks perplexed as he massages his head. “It's weird not to.”

“Doesn't your neck hurt?”

“It does now that you mention it.”

Kaito scoffs as he sits up, cross legged. “Pretty sure it hurt before I mentioned it. Cmon, up you get. You’ll get a bad back, bad knees and bad posture if you keep this up.”

Shuuji, in fact, does not get up. Choosing instead to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Miu was right. You really do get kinda naggy. She said you threatened her with dental healthcare."

"Miu was talking about me?" His eyes, bright and shining.

"That's what you got from that?" Shuuji sounds almost as exasperated as Miu. "Still, as far as older brothers go, you're not so bad.” The older boy sighs and closes his eyes in contentment.

Kaito can't help but feel proud at the compliment. He smiles.

“The hell are you doing? Don’t fall asleep here,” he scolds.

He still has older brother duties after all.

Shuuji and Miu are team ‘younger sibling with bothersome older brother’

Shuuji was uncomfortable complaining about his brother at first but Miu’s a good teacher.

I try not to write anyone too ooc but I like when friends pick up each others habits and speech patterns.

#digimon survive #digimon #kayama shuuji #shinonome kaito #fic #to rebuild a broken house

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outrunningthedark · 2 years ago

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i've been following u for years now and i love ur blog! but i wonder if u feel like ur getting less enjoyment out of 911? i ask bcuz i feel like the posts and asks i see from u about the show seem overwhelmingly negative, and i just wonder if maybe...u haven't noticed? which sounds dumb but i've definitely gotten into the "habit" of being a fan of something and not realizing until way after the fact that i'm not actually a fan anymore? i'm sorry if this seems presumptuous!!

Reasons why my posts are probably coming off as negative (which is not the first time I've heard this, lol): - I choose to respond to "negativity" rather than delete it because the opinion is usually coming from a place of confusion or frustration, not just trolling for attention. I like to let people know that their feelings are understandable even if not everyone agrees (ie the 'baiting' discussion - is it textbook qbait? nope. but they're also not doing anything to halt the speculation) And tbh, someone else's interpretation has no impact on my own feelings or my experience with the fandom. Negativity that isn't related to real life (excusing ableism, for instance) isn't thought about beyond the few asks I may get in a day when there's more difficult things going on as soon as I sign off. If someone not liking my favorite show was the catalyst for a bad mood...I'd consider my day pretty successful up to that point, lol. - I ship Buddie and want to see the Buckley-Diaz fam be a real thing because of Christopher. I'm not one of the fans who say "ngl idc about Buddie, I just want my fave to be gay" - that's cool, do you, but I want the chemistry and the story more than the "representation". Limited or no Buddie means my interest in the show will take a hit. - My favorite individual character is Chimney. The one that was written out for most of 5A without explanation. I started thinking differently about the show back then, and how he's been handled upon returning has not changed my opinion of the show runners re: undervaluing his presence. - How the show writes Maddie pisses me off because (as an anon talked about the other day) she's *still* disconnected from nearly everyone. It doesn't bother me if "all she does is cry" because I get that Jennifer has a knack for it, but I *do* understand how some could find it tiresome to see her emotional so often. Give her something funny! Let her have a one-on-one convo with a friend where she gets to relax! Make people have a reaction other than "Ugh, not this again" because, I'm sorry, not EVERYONE is gonna love your fave character upon first meeting them or connect to their story. You have to give them a reason to care, especially as the seasons go on. Show a different side, something else someone might be able to relate to! - Idk how anyone can get (genuinely) excited for future episodes of this show when there is a clear divide between how the fandom feels about certain characters and their arcs vs. how the people actually making the decisions approach the situation. Yes, being in a fandom will result in "taking things too seriously" because some people make their fave piece of media their entire personality, but having a show runner be like "lol, we have this running joke about Buck's abandonment issues" or admitting that she struggles to fill in gaps in the story is not going to make the fandom - the people taking the time to read these comments and react on social media - feel like she gives a shit about any of this.

#anonymous #tina speaks #tv: 911 #tv: 9-1-1 #buddie

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jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 2 years ago

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The Will of the Force - CH 21

Fandom: Star Wars Rating: Mature Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Obikin AO3 Masterlist

Summary: What if Obi-wan hadn’t been granted permission to train Anakin in the ways of the Force? What if Qui-Gon hadn’t perished during the battle with Darth Maul? How differently would things have turned out?

*** MY WORK IS NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION. THOUGH REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE SUPER LOVED AND APPRECIATED! THANKS FAM!***

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

Chapter 21

The soberness that had been felt in the Pyer Room the day before carried over to the next morning. Qui-Gon had been at Padmé's door as promised to escort her down to the hanger, where they met with Anakin and Obi-Wan, along with the entirety of the Council. They lined either side of the entry ramp to the ship, with Padmé and Qui-Gon at the front on one side, and Anakin and Obi-Wan across from them. Not long after they had lined up, another group of Jedi appeared at the end of the line, and slowly they walked Gregar’s body, enclosed in a simple wooden casket, down the centre and toward the ramp. As he passed each Jedi Council member, they held their lightsabers high and ignited them over his casket in honour, and as he reached the front of the line, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan did the same.

Padmé's eyes followed Gregar all the way inside the ship until he could be seen no longer, then flicked back over to Anakin. He was crying, as she had suspected he would be, and curled tightly into Obi-Wan’s side while he comforted him. Through all of this, she was glad that he had Obi-Wan and would have him for the rest of his life now.

Once they were all on board the ship, the travel back was long but quiet for the most part. There were a few random but quick conversations about wedding arrangements when the mood was light enough to entertain such talks, but for the most part conversation revolved around the funeral that was to take place the day after they landed. Though most every time it was brought up, Anakin had to excuse himself soon after, usually too overwhelmed by the loss weighing on his chest and not able to participate in the arrangements for long. And so he spent most of the trip escaping to his room with Obi-Wan following close behind.

By the time they landed it was already late evening on Naboo. Anakin was so exhausted from having spent so much of the trip mourning the loss of his close friend, his family, that all he wanted to do was sleep. The funeral was to be held the next day, and even just the thought of that was adding immensely to his already weary limbs. But of course, the second they had stepped off the entry ramp they were surrounded by the Royal Advisory Council, all wanting to discuss the final arrangements for the funeral.

Qui-Gon could tell Anakin was on the edge, was sure Obi-Wan could feel his distress across their bond, and the last thing he was sure the young prince wanted was to break down in front of the Council members. “Obi-Wan,” he leant over to whisper in his ear, “why don't you take Anakin to his room, I'm sure Padmé can handle this on her own. Make sure he gets some sleep, tomorrow will be a difficult enough day as it is.”

Obi-Wan nodded and tucked Anakin into his side, quickly and quietly escaping the crowd and heading into the palace. Once inside, Anakin silently pointed him the way and finally he was in the sanctuary of his room, away from prodding Council members and talk of death. And as soon as Obi-Wan closed the door behind him he let out a heaving sigh of relief.

“Are you alright, dear one?”

He nodded, slowly shuffling over to sit on the edge of the bed, patting beside him for Obi-Wan to sit. “I just want this to be over. I want Gregar to be at peace, and I know once he is I… I’ll feel better knowing his body isn't lingering in some temple on Coruscant or Naboo. But I do feel…”

“Speak it, Anakin.”

“I feel a bit guilty that once his funeral is over we'll just be… moving forward,” he answered, “we will put him to rest tomorrow and then soon after we will be making wedding arrangements and planning the coronations, and I just… I feel this pit in my stomach at the thought of him not being there, that he's missing these monumental moments that he should be a part of. But this is what he would want right, he would want us to move on… I think, I-” Anakin trailed off with a frustrated grunt and leaned forward to cover his face with both hands.

Obi-Wan gently pulled his hands away and turned him to face him, holding his hands between them. “Anakin, I know it's hard, losing someone always is, especially someone as close to you and Padmé as Gregar was. But yes, he would want you to move forward, to be happy and to continue to grow. He died so that you could do exactly that. I am certain that he would have loved to see you get married and take the throne, and to watch Padmé rise in her new position as Chancellor. And though he won't be there, no matter what, we will never forget him or what he did for both of us, and tomorrow will be about honouring him for that.”

Anakin nodded, not able to really say anything more, so Obi-Wan pulled him in to kiss his head gently then reached behind him to pull back the blankets. “Why don't you get some sleep, Anakin, you're exhausted and tomorrow will be strenuous.”

“Not yet,” he shook his head, getting up and walking over to the closet to open both doors, “we have to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow. Come here, try this on.”

Obi-Wan stood and walked over, taking the clothes Anakin handed him and quickly put them on with his help. Everything fit just fine, and he was sure it was a relief to Anakin that he wouldn't have to call for alterations so late in the night. The clothes were simple, nothing like the extravagant and brightly coloured clothes they had worn out in the lake country. Merely a simple, loose black long sleeve shirt with a high collar and pants, with a tighter vest to go over top. Anakin then walked back into the closet and walked out with a long, heavy looking black feathered cloak with a long train behind it, which he placed around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and clasped at the front. Then he walked inside again, this time walking out with a large box which he placed on the bed, gesturing for Obi-Wan to come and stand beside him.

“This is what you'll be wearing for the funeral tomorrow. I know it's a lot and the cloak is heavy, but it's traditional royal attire.”

“I am not yet Naboolian royalty, Anakin, there was no need to go through all this trouble for me at such a trying time,” he said, attempting to catch Anakin's eyes, “I could have worn my Jedi robes for now. There has already been so much you've had to deal with over such a short time, this should have been the last thing on your mind, dear one.”

“You may not be official royalty right now but you will be very soon. Padmé and I wanted to make sure you were donned properly, as you should be as future king, which is also why I had her call on the transport back for this to be made for you as well.” He opened the box and lifted out a very extravagant looking headpiece, then turned to hold it between them for Obi-Wan to observe. It was a golden circlet twisted and turned in an intricate design, and weaved around it were deep red and blue flowers along with black feathers that matched the cloak. And wrapped and twisted around the entire crown and flowers, were perfectly arranged clusters of beads that hung all around the sides, some even swooping low across the forehead and down the back of the neck. “This is traditional funeral attire for royalty, my outfit will match yours exactly and Padmé will be wearing one much the same but in her own style. Do you know anything about Naboolian funerals, or what will be expected of you tomorrow?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I am afraid I know very little of the planet I am supposed to be ruling in the near future. It would seem I am already off to a bad start as future king, the people would be pleased, I'm sure.”

That actually managed to get a light chuckle out of Anakin for the first time in days. “It's a good thing your future husband knows everything there is to know, so he can teach you,” he said, then pointed to the flowers to start, “every part of the headdress has some importance. These flowers are the most popular flower among the people of Naboo, they are called Millaflower, and they were Gregar’s favourite. I chose them not only because they were his favourite but because they are highly regarded. To be gifted a Millaflower is considered a great honour on Naboo, and Gregar will be gifted with many tomorrow, because not only will they be lain in his casket with him, but as we walk with his procession the people of Naboo will throw them beneath his casket as we pass.”

“That's lovely, dear one,” Obi-Wan said, placing a hand on his cheek, “you made a wonderful choice.”

Anakin nodded with a small smile, then moved to point to the beads. “And these are mourning beads. We wear them as royalty to represent the tears of the people of Naboo, and the people will now look to you to hold their tears as well as me,” Anakin said as he lifted the headdress up to sit perfectly on Obi-Wan’s head, “there, now you are ready to honour Gregar as future king of Naboo. He would be proud of you, I'm sure.”

“As he would be of you too, Anakin,” he said, then asked, “can you tell me what I am to do tomorrow? I do not want to dishonour Gregar, you, Padmé, or the people by doing anything wrong.”

“Tomorrow,” Anakin started, reaching out to fiddle with the clasp of Obi-Wan’s cloak while he spoke, “we will rise with the sun and make our way through the palace grounds to the very edge of the property. Gregars body will be laid in a casket there in a preparation chamber waiting for our arrival. Then royalty, the Council, and other members of nobility will take turns placing the Millaflowers around his body in the casket. We will each be given a basket filled with them, and you have to place each flower in one at a time, very gently, circling his casket completely. The nobles will go first, then the Council members will take their turn. Padmé has informed me that she has requested Qui-Gon be involved in the preparation ceremony as well, so he will go after the last member of the Council, then you will go after Qui-Gon, then myself, and Padmé will place the flowers into his casket last.

By the time that is finished it will probably be around noon, and by then the citizens who wish to pay their respects will have lined the streets to watch the procession. Padmé will lead the procession with Qui-Gon at her side, then Gregars casket will follow pulled by four of our Gualaar, and you and I will walk behind him. The Council, noble’s, and the Jedi Council will walk the procession behind us, and we will walk through the streets of Theed until we reach the Temple. Only those walking the procession are allowed inside the Temple while Gregar is cremated. Once we are inside the Temple everyone will be given one last chance to step forward and say their last words of respect to Gregar, then we will stand there until it is complete. And the last thing you need to know is that while he is being cremated, we are to bow our heads, and when we do the Handmaiden’s will step in to raise the hoods of our cloaks to cover the mourning beads. It symbolises us hiding our tears, and those of our people, from the passing spirit of the dead so that they may pass without grief or worry over the ones they are leaving behind.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a moment, a bit awestruck. “Anakin, these Naboolian traditions truly are beautiful, Gregar will be honoured well tomorrow.”

“Naboolian’s are very strong in their traditions, and yes, I am glad he will be,” he nodded, looking up to smile slightly at Obi-Wan as he finished, “and for the last part of the funeral tomorrow, as the moon begins to rise and just starts to touch the horizon over the waters edge, Padmé will place Gregars ashes into Solleu River. We will stand behind her as she does, and the citizens will all gather over the bridge to watch, all holding candles to light his way down the river. Once his ashes travel down the river and fall over the cliff, his spirit will have finally returned to the planet and he will be at peace. After that we will return to the palace, the next day we will hold a feast in Gregars memory, and the people will celebrate him in the cities for a week. It's the full royal funeral treatment, he deserves it.”

“It is truly beautiful, he would be pleased,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his hands to cradle Anakin's face, wiping the stray tear that had escaped his defences, “I only hope I can remember all of my duties tomorrow.”

“If you forget anything, I will tell you, but I am confident you will be fine,” he smiled back at him, then leaned in for a quick kiss before reaching up to take the headdress off, “and now that we know everything fits, lets get it all off and get some sleep. We have to be up very early tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin was awake before Obi-Wan the next morning, as Obi-Wan had expected he would be. The sun was just starting to rise, the orange hue surrounding Anakin in an ethereal like glow from where he stood by the window watching. Obi-Wan sighed, slowly climbing out of the bed to walk over and stand with him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder. He wished they could just stay like this, that he could spend the day comforting Anakin and making his pain go away, but they couldn't. There were duties to be upheld as the future kings of Naboo, and Gregar had already waited long enough to find his peace.

“Come, dear one,” Obi-Wan eventually said, turning his head to place a lingering kiss in the crook of his neck, “let's get dressed, we'll need to leave soon.” Anakin just nodded and allowed Obi-Wan to lead him to the closet where they dressed together in silence.

The trip to the preparation chamber was also a quiet affair, but not long from the palace. Obi-Wan, Anakin, Padmé and Qui-Gon had all travelled to the chamber together, and both the Naboolian and Jedi Council’s were already there waiting for them. They waited outside the chamber for them all to enter first, and once inside Obi-Wan followed behind Anakin around the casket to stand in a circle with everyone who was participating, with Padmé standing nearest the top.

He looked in at the man he barely knew but owed so much. Gregar looked peaceful, his face had been cleaned, he had been dressed in a dark bluish grey suit, and surrounded by a pillow of flowing fabrics of the same colours. Then he chanced a quick glance over at Anakin, spying the welling of tears in his eyes. On reflex he almost reached out for him, his urge to comfort him then suddenly being replaced by the reminder of where they were as his eyes darted around the chamber. So he kept his arm planted firmly by his side and kept the distance currently between them, and instead reached out to touch and prod at the bond. Thankfully Anakin felt it and leant into Obi-Wan through the bond, a quick ‘I’m alright, Obi-Wan, I promise,’ filtering through. So he stood back, fully facing the casket while the Handmaiden’s appeared with the baskets of flowers, but kept contact with Anakin through the bond just in case he needed him.

He waited and watched as each member of the Naboolian Council took their turn, circling the casket and gently placing the Millaflowers, eventually coming down to Qui-Gon’s turn. He could feel his nerves rising slightly, the last thing he wanted was to do something wrong, in some way dishonour Gregar or Naboo, and look like an absolute fool before he had even become an official king. But Anakin kept him calm and whispered through the bond, ‘Once Qui-Gon is finished and has taken his place in the circle again, it'll be your turn. Remember to place each flower one at a time, very carefully. Start at his head, circle the casket, and finish where you started. Then come back to stand beside me again. Just take your time, Obi-Wan, you'll do fine.’

By the time Anakin had finished his silent reminder, Qui-Gon was back and it was his turn. He took a breath, clutching tighter to the basket of flowers as he slowly approached the casket, then one by one he slowly and carefully placed each flower, making sure he had enough to go all the way around, surrounding the man in honour, then took his place again. Then he watched as Anakin took his own turn, and lastly Padmé. Once she was finished, they all stood in place as the Handmaiden’s returned to take Gregars body to the preparation chambers exit, and then it was time for the procession.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé and Qui-Gon lead the casket, drawn by the four magnificent Gualaar, also decorated with the Millaflowers and donned in golden tack. Obi-Wan and Anakin were behind the casket, as Anakin had said, with the Naboolian and Jedi Council’s a few steps behind them. He was amazed at how many of Naboos citizens had crowded the streets to view the procession, and the streets were blanketed in the flowers they all gifted to Gregar as they passed, so many that the streets beneath could no longer be seen under the sea of red and blue.

As they walked he could feel Anakin's composure slipping within the bond, the exhaustion of the day already beginning to wear him down. So he took a chance and moved one step closer, just enough so that he could whisper just loud enough for only Anakin to hear, “Is it acceptable for me to hold your hand? Or are we expected to walk separately for the procession? I am not entirely sure of the protocol here-”

“Please hold my hand,” Anakin all but begged and jumped the remaining distance between them to grab his already waiting hand. That is how they walked for the remainder of the procession through the streets of Theed, and at some point when Obi-Wan looked up, he noticed that Qui-Gon had done much the same for Padmé. He was sure she was struggling just as much as Anakin was, though as Queen was expected to hold a higher level of composure, but thankfully she had Qui-Gon to offer an arm in support, to which she was currently clinging to.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The procession ended at the Temple, as Anakin had said, and once they arrived everyone walked inside with Gregar, along with Master Yoda and Master Windu who had requested the opportunity to pay their last respects on behalf of the Jedi. They once again circled around the casket, just as they had in the preparation chamber, and just as before they each took their turns stepping forward to bow their heads over him and whisper their final goodbyes.

Eventually it came to Qui-Gon, who stepped up and took his turn while Anakin once again whispered through the bond, ‘Same as before, you'll be after Qui-Gon. Take as long as you need.’

He nodded to himself as Qui-Gon stepped back into place, then he stepped forward to stand beside Gregar, looking down at his face. He hadn't known the man for long, only having briefly met him a few times, but Obi-Wan knew he meant a lot to Anakin and to Padmé, not to mention the fact that he risked his life to save his dear one and helped take down the Sith Lords. Without his sacrifice, Obi-Wan was sure he and Anakin would not be moving toward such a happily ever after, he owed the man more than he could ever put into words. So he put it as best as he could and made sure he put as much sincerity and appreciation behind the words as he could, “Thank you for always being there for him, for keeping him safe for all the years that I was not able to, and thank you for saving him, for saving both of us. I promise you that I will continue to keep him safe in your stead. Rest peacefully, my friend.”

Then it was Anakin's turn. He had thought over the days leading up to the funeral of what he would say, but there was so much. How was one supposed to fit a lifetime of gratitude and love into just a few simple words?

“I'm going to miss you,” Anakin blurted out, whispered in the space between him and Gregar as he fought valiantly against the tears beginning their assault, “I'm going to miss you more than I think you ever knew I would, and I feel terrible that you won't be here with us for the rest. I wish I could have told you I was getting married, that I was happy, and I wish you could have gotten to know Obi-Wan and been here for the wedding. I know you both met a few times, but I know had you gotten the chance to know him more you would have loved him. I just… I hope you know how much I loved you, and no matter what I will never forget you. I’m going to miss you Gregar, so much, may you finally be at peace.”

Once Anakin stepped back and Padmé said her goodbyes, the cremation ceremony started. As the flames stoked high around him, everyone bowed their heads, and the Handmaiden’s stepped forward to lift the hoods of Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padmé. Obi-Wan remembered Anakin telling him the night before that it was symbolic of hiding the tears of themselves and the tears of the people, but no matter how hard Anakin tried he could not hide his own tears from Obi-Wan. He could not only feel his increased distress through the bond, but he could hear the soft sobs he was attempting to stifle, though not succeeding.

Obi-Wan hoped by doing so he wasn't breaking any protocols or traditions, but he was sure that Gregar would not mind, so he reached out an arm toward Anakin and pulled him against his side. They both kept their heads bowed and the mourning beads covered as they were supposed to, but Anakin melted into him, crying into the crook of his neck while they waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the funeral was coming to an end and they walked outside the Temple toward the river's edge, the moon was just beginning to crest the horizon. Anakin remained firmly tucked against Obi-Wan’s side while they walked, following behind Padmé and Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan looked up to the bridge beside them, and thought to himself that Gregar would be grateful to the amount of people who had gathered to see him off. It was overflowing with people, all holding candles and illuminating the night. His path would be well lit on his way to peace.

When they reached the spot where the bank dipped low into a sandy alcove, everyone stopped walking while Qui-Gon escorted Padmé to the water's edge. She then let go of Qui-Gon’s arm, silently stepping out of her shoes and wading a few steps into the river, then she placed Gregars ashes into the river and they all waited and watched until they crested over the cliff. Obi-Wan felt Anakin release a breath against his side, and he agreed that it was a relief knowing that Gregar had been returned to the planet and could now rest.

Obi-Wan squeezed Anakin closer against him, turning to kiss his forehead before leaning in and whispering, “Come, dear one, let's go home.”

Anakin only nodded, which Obi-Wan felt more than saw, and slowly they made their way back to the palace. The long day weighed on both of them heavily, and by the time they were back in Anakin's room and out of their funeral clothes, it took them both mere seconds to crawl into bed and fall asleep, both of their arms wrapped comfortingly around each other as they slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Just a bit of sadness here guys but then it’ll be a happy ending for our boys I promise! <3

Tags: @peaches-n-pancakes

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