#it makes me sticky and everything is bleh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Text

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you. “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you. his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell, h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!” you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass. “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole— screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara @greenchild

4K notes · View notes

crusadingcookie · 3 years ago

Text

Bento Boxes and Kisses

A/N: Bonjour everyone it’s been a while, let’s ignore that my last post was nearly 7 months ago. I have so many ideas but when it comes to writing them into a cohesive story my brain just goes bleh. So I might try a more headcanon style for future stories if you guys would be up for reading that? I think that’ll help with my consistency of posting stories as that way I can stitch together separate ideas/plot points without having the ‘filler’ scenes if that makes sense. Plus I really want to share my story ideas with you guys!

Anyways here is this short story, I’m not really happy with the ending but I felt guilty not posting anything for so long! I hope you guys enjoy!

Part of the Aizawa x Wife!Reader series. Read part 1 here.

Summary: The plan was to just bring your husband his lunch that he had forgotten. Somehow you ended up showing his students your wedding photos.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

You sat at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of coffee as you watched Blitz clean his feathers on his perch. The past week had been a gruelling routine of fighting villains in the dead of the night only to get a few hours of sleep during the day. You had earned yourself a few days off. Unfortunately your husband was gone for most of the day teaching the young heroes of U.A. You were looking forward to finally enjoying an evening together without the looming possibility of being called to fight villains at any second.

If you could place all your money on one sure fact about your husband, it would be that he isn’t a morning person. In fact, from your ten years of marriage and years of knowing Aizawa prior, he wasn’t an ‘any time of the day’ person. You were certain that if you hadn’t put in place a set of ground house rules, he’d surely be sleeping with his beloved yellow sleeping bag in your shared bed.

Therefore it wasn’t a surprise to you that your husband had forgotten his lunchbox today. The cute cats decorating the bento box stared up at you whilst you wondered how he could have missed the neon pink sticky note on the outside of the fridge. How that man survives working a normal job and being an underground hero is beyond you. Come to think of it, that explains why he forgot it.

“Well, guess I’m visiting class 1-A again.” You made your way to the front door with the bento box in your bag.

Are you leaving me alone?

You sighed at your dramatic, winged companion and spun to face him. “We both know you should be resting after last night’s fight Blitz.”

I’m fine though. See!?

Blitz, your eagle sidekick if you will, ruffled his feathers and hopped from his current perch to the shelf next to him.

“You are supposed to be resting, so that is what you are going to do. Those were the doctor's orders!” Blitz shuddered at the reminder of the horrible vet appointment.

But I want to see the fledgling heroes again!

“I’m sure you’ll see them again sometime soon.” You eyed him for a second before turning around. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Bye Blitz!” You shouted into the apartment as you quickly left, ignoring the protesting screeches echoing in the empty apartment.

~~~

The students of Class 1-A made Aizawa anticipate the worst each day. But what he didn’t expect to see was his wife showing off your wedding photos to his students. Now let us rewind for a second. Aizawa was already having a bad day. To be fair all days spent awake were bad, but this day set a new record. He was overworked, tired and just wanted to spend time with his wife. Oh and he forgot his lunch so he will have to live off the vending machine food.

And now he had to teach his students things about hero training whilst making sure two certain individuals didn’t land in the infirmary...again.

Meanwhile you stood at the front of the class flipping through a whole stack of photos with the Class 1-A students crowded around you. The door to the classroom opened and you made eye contact with your husband, you grinning at him and him sighing at the commotion.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he shuffled into the classroom, peering over his students’ shoulders only to see you showing them pictures of your wedding. “And why are you showing my students our wedding photos?”

You smiled up at Aizawa and held out his lunch, “you forgot your lunch at home, and they asked about our wedding so of course I had to share!”

The girls were gushing over how magical and pretty everything looked and excitingly chattering to you.

“You look so beautiful in the dress!”

“I want to have a wedding like that as well!”

You laughed at the students’ enthusiasm, happy that they are enjoying this. The commotion slowly calmed down as the students returned to their seats, ready to start their hero training now that their teacher was here.

Aizawa looked at you and the wedding photos in your hand, “why do you even carry around copies of our wedding photos?”

“So I can show off to people that we’re the best hero couple out there” You winked at your husband and nudged him, “plus I get to see you in a tuxedo again.”

You placed the photos back in your wallet and made your way toward the door. “Well I’ll be going now!” You waved at the students who enthusiastically waved and shouted their farewells back.

“Bye, I’ll see you after work” Replied Aizawa, busy organising his papers at the desk.

You stared at him with an expectant look. Your husband sighed and moved to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye Honey I love you!” You snickered at his expression and his shy ‘I love you’ back.

Aizawa turned to his students who were grinning at the interaction and the faint pink dusting his cheeks. “So...hero training.”

#im back #x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #fluff

119 notes · View notes

futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late for Love

A/N: Oh God, it was a long one but finally I finished it. I know it took me a long time to write it but I DID! I tried putting all of my best in there. Though I think I could have made it better but it’s already long so I didn’t want to make it too long. I hope you like it <3 I love torturing James so much

REQUESTED BY @whyevenbotherrightsstuff : Hi can I have a request for James Potter that you and him are going back and for to each other like friends with benefits you are in love with him but you see that he still chases after Lily and you are tired of it and eventually end it and move on and he sees that you are with someone else and it just makes him jealous. Sorry that that's a long one you can decide the ending if you want.

It was as if it was an addiction.

You knew it was bad. You knew it was toxic but still, the pleasure from it was more appealing than recovery.

It's like that heart and brain saying. Sometimes you have to listen to the heart, sometimes you have to listen to your brain. However, never listen to your wild hormones, sex parts, and a horny, Gryffindor teenager named James Potter.

He was leaning over you, eyes staring down- not staring, rather observing, watching you seductively.

"Last night..." he lifted your chin, placing his lips on yours gently. "... last night was perfect." he pulled away and you smiled.

"It was?"

"Yeah but we should really just-" he heard some footsteps and quickly backed away from you, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat and continued. "Just find someplace else- you know... I don't want people talking."

It felt he pulled a string through your heart and sliced it in half.

Your smile wanted to drop but you kept it all the same as none of his words affected you. "Yeah-" you backed on the wall as well, chewing your lower lip as you tried to think clearly.

He could watch you biting your lip and he just thought back- back into that night, that perfect night where your bodies just moved so perfectly together. In such sync, harmony even.

He never thought he would be one of those guys that would have someone just for sex. But you and he had so much chemistry. You and he had more than that. He could be comfortable with you, know all your sweet spots and be sure he won't fuck up. It was complicated at first because you and he took each other's virginity and both of you wanted it that way.

You didn't pressure him into dating you immediately and he had told you that he is in love with another girl; Lily Evans.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about it because the first time was extremely awkward for both of you. It was clammy, hot, stiffed, sweaty, sticky and he didn't really know what to do.

But there was a look i. Your eyes that just told him that it's okay and to be honest, he didn't want to suck at sex, so he asked you for a "favor". Just to perfect the sex, learn, explore, and please, find what makes each other tick.

It turned into just playful fun later on. It wasn't even planned anymore. The two of you would be sitting on the sofa, talking and laughing, and the next thing you know both of you were naked.

It was pure fun.

He used you and you used him and neither of you cared. Right?

Wrong. What do you expect?

For you, James was your first and it hurt like hell at first but it was as if... You could see yourself with him. Not just in the physical way, not just sex. Sometimes, in moments, there was something between the two of you that wasn't just sex. It was intimacy. It was love- for what you thought and you knew that he knew it too.

He should, right?

Wrong again.

He was James Potter. He and the right way were really best friends.

---

It was neverending torture. It was. For you, for him, for you mostly.

He kept leaning over to her, touching her, whispering to her... Flirting. It cramped your heart, your stomach, your whole bloody body to just see them.

It didn't anger you. It saddened you because all you kept thinking was: So there was just sex? There was just pleasure? Just fun? No intimacy? No love?

And you could feel your throat squeeze like someone poured a sour lemon into it, causing you to look away.

It hurt. It hurt because you were in love and he wasn't.

The ring was your salvation. It was your biggest, purest salvation because you couldn't wait to just run away and cry. It sounded pathetic but it was as if you couldn't help it anymore.

You were so stupid to believe you two actually had something. You were naive and gullible to fall for his manipulative lies and deceiving eyes. You were so furious at yourself because you let him get close to you. You let yourself love him when even in the slightest of his body that you kissed and touch, wasn't a chance of him loving you back.

But when you call the devil, the devil comes.

You could feel his hand on your shoulder without even looking at who he was. Your teary eyes flickered to the moving figure and he didn't even care enough to look closely and notice.

"Tonight, ten?" he grinned, backing away and winking.

You stood there for a moment, looking yourself at the ground and just exploding. At first, it was soft. "No." your voice quivered but it was just enough laud for him to hear it.

"Exams can wait. Homework? Bleh!" he brushed his hand, standing still.

"No, James." you shook your head, feeling your heart squeeze at the sound of your own realization. You looked up, a tear falling down your cheek and catching his attention.

"Wait- (y/n), darling." he started speaking softly, approaching you as if he cared.

He didn't! Get it to your head, (y/n)! HE DOESN'T CARE!

He reached for your hands and at first, you wanted to hold his hands but you shouldn't and so you hid them away from him.

"Why are you crying?" he asked. He asked as if it wasn't clear.

"Why am I crying?" you repeated his question, more tears, one after the other and each of them without your permission. "I can't do this anymore. I can't have sex with you and thinking it doesn't mean something to me when it does!"

He watched, his eyes falling into concern, pity maybe?

You scoffed, letting out a fake laugh and running both of your hands through your hair. "I won't do this anymore."

"Why not?!" he snapped, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring in disbelief.

"Because you're in love with someone else meanwhile you're shagging me!"

That snapped something inside him. Hurt? - No. James couldn't be hurt.

"We said- we put the rules! You, me, and no strings attached!"

"Yes, exactly." you leaned back, lowering your tone. "No strings attached." you rolled your eyes but tears keep falling and your whole face was soaked in the. "So why is it so hard for you to just agree with me if everything was no strings attached?"

"Because I need to know why? Did I do something wrong last night?? What did I-"

"Merlin, James!" you groaned from frustration. "I fell in love with you! And I kept this going because I thought you might love me back and today I came to the realization that you don't. So I am stopping this before it gets complicated."

"It's not complicated!" he started to panic, unaware of the reactions in his body.

"It is for me." you said. "I don't want to be like some girl you bang until you get your perfect girl. I want to be loved more than just in private. I want to share that love with the world." you started smiling to yourself. "It's okay, James." you spoke gently, calming his nerves as you always seemed to do. "I get it and I won't make it complicated, I swear. I won't try and get between you and Lily- you won't even see me. It was fun while it lasted." you shrugged, digging your hands into your pockets and walking by him. "See you around."

And James stood there. He stood there unable to know what had just happened.

It seemed selfish from his side but that's who he was. He told you that... And instead of getting all fiery and furious at him, you told him you just don't want to.

I mean, if you really were in love with him, wouldn't you want to use all the time you had with him before he gets Lily?

... He shook his head, smiling to himself.

It's over. You and him are over. At least he wasn' the one to break it. It's easy and simple, you won't complicate it.

He 's happy. He is.

It's all for the best anyway. The sex was great but that's all it was. Sex. He can focus solely on Lily now.

---

And he did. He focused solely on her- on the girl he has been chasing for quite a while now. And although he didn’t want to admit it, and pretended as if it wasn’t there- he could feel you missing.

Before and during your interraction, it wasn’t always physical. The two of you talked- well, more just plain, traditional talk. It was much more deeper than that. He told you everything, even the things he wasn’t aware he thought or felt. He told you all of his dreams, felt like he could tell you everything- every thought in his mind and you wouldn’t judge him.

You wouldn’t. It was so simple. You would listen to him talk about everything in his life, sometimes leaving a comment, laughing to the funny stories and the horrible jokes he cracked. The two of you told each other how your days went, which professor pissed you off, judging other people, studying...

It really was more than sex.

His favorite thing about you and him was the infuriating, fast debates about the things both of you disagreed about. The expression on your face would be so adorable when you defended your side of the debate. Your lips pursed themselves together, your chin would tense up as your eyebrows would draw themselves together.

He smiled to himself but the smile dropped when he would see you on the other side of the class, Great Hall or corridor. You would look at him but look away as well.

The two of you could still be friends even if he was with Lily?

Wouldn’t that be much simpler than the tension both of you feel now?

---

And like always, you were correct.

He dated her now. He would sling his arm over her shoulder and whisper something in her ear as he used to do it with you. His lips that once kissed you wholly were now pressed on her skin, his body next to hers.

She had him... and you didn’t.

That hurt. That hurt like hell and it wasn’t until three months you started to realize that you need to move on. Three long months of healing, trying to piece yourself together again. He broke you and he didn’t even care. You told him you loved him and for you, that was something heavy on your heart but for him, it was like a sweep under the rug.

So, it was time you brushed those tears and move on. It took you a few tries, falling back down and getting back up thinking it won’t hurt anymore.

But it did and at times it felt like you won’t ever be able to get over him.

You did though. You haven’t realized it until you saw him kissing her and it didn’t affect you as much as it used to. It was as if you were used to it already. It was something normal, something you saw every day, something... someone just moving on with their life and you’ve come to a realization, you could be that too.

And you were.

There was this boy in Hufflepuff. He was always your partner in most classes, asking you if he could copy your notes or that if you could help him with homework. Whenever he needed something for school, you were his person and you thought that for a long, long time.

You didn’t mind helping him. You knew he wasn’t serious for school, he told you that too many times. He just wasn’t serious. He was calm and relaxed, pretty much let life take care of it by itself. Whenever you were with him, you felt just the same. He made your worries go away, your body just go back into a calm state.

He reminded you that you could over-worry yourself, overthink, overstress and he was there to take all of that away. Put you on firm ground and explain to you that life is just simple, it’s your perspective that’s changing it.

He started opening up. Like a clam that was forever shut. It took you by surprise when he became so loose around you. For a long time, you wondered what he wanted from you because usually he did but all he wanted was to talk and you seemed to realize that he really was not the person you thought he was.

You talked with him every day. He told you about his thoughts, his days, and everything that was going on. To be honest, you loved listening to him because his mind was so much more expandable. He was a maniac for art and music, that was why he hated school so much. It restricted his creativity.

He was an artist that was why his silence was so pleasant. He’d sent you a letter that he is coming to your house, you’d wait for him on the sofa by the fireplace and he would come in his sweatpants and a hoodie, two different socks and completely messy dark hair. He would just sit down, both laughing and talking at first and then he would pull out his sketchbook and pencil and draw you. His eyes were like tropical water. It would be coral blue and if you looked closely there was such a gorgeous green colour. It didn’t change. Not even at night when the two of you would just be sitting or lying by the fire, you could still find his eyes so mesmerizing.

It didn’t take him long to tell you he liked you. It took the two of you two weeks before he would just blurt it out.

He drew you for the third time by then and he would turn it around, grinning. “What do you think?”

“What I always do. You’re incredibly talented and I look too damn good.” you started to tease but he only let out a chuckle and moved closer.

“You do.” he was now beside you, looking at you so deep into your eyes. “And did I tell you that you look beautiful today?” he tilted his head to the side, eyes still stuck on yours as a blush crept on your cheeks.

“I- uhm.” you smiled, looking away and letting out a soft giggle.

“Why are you turning away?” he asked, clearly teasing you a bit.

“I don’t know.” you turned your head back and he was much closer than he was before.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and his tongue subconsciously licked both of his lips. “You don’t?” he started moving in as you nodded, smiling as his lips lazily approached yours. He licked your upper lip just to tease you at first, smiling as he pulled away and could see your lips pulling themselves in like a magnet. Your hands placed themselves under his jaw and behind his neck, kisses slow, lazy and a bit careless.

It drow you wild how slow he was and as he saw you rush in, he pulled away, grinning cheekily at you as he brushed his thumb over. “Why the rush?”

“Why the delay?” you quirked an eyebrow and he smirked, moving back in and kissing you much more deeply but still slow.

Though this time it didn’t drive you as wild as before when he only teased with his tongue, slipping in and out. Now kisses were full and whole, intimate and consuming. He would lay you down on your back and press his body against you, kissing your jawline with slow, gentle and wet kisses, leading down to your neck and causing you to let out heavy breaths. But his kisses were so addictive that those heavy breaths weren’t breaths anymore but moans and you weren’t patient enough. You wanted him. You tried to pull him back up, kiss him with all the fire he lit inside of you but when you did try, his eyes flickered with mischief and torment, making you realize you just got the devil. His one hand grabbed your hands and lifted them above you, another free one, unbuttoning your shirt and placing soft kisses on your bare skin.

One thing you did not expect was the Head Boy making his night rounds before bed. One, clear thing you did not expect was hazel eyes setting on the couple kissing and touching at the fireplace.

It was the way his hands touched your skin, gently at first and digging his fingers into you as if you were his. The quiet moans you let out weren’t meant to be for him- no not for the Hufflepuff.

All thoughts ran through his head like a train- a second only before the rage filled his body and he stormed over, tackling the boy off you.

It took you a while to realize what had happened but before you could, they were already fighting on the ground, one on top of the other and otherwise.

“THE HELL JAMES!!” you shouted, grabbing him by the arms with all your strength and pulling him off. “GET OFF HIM!” you shouted at him, trying to cover your bare breast with one hand as the other kept pushing him away from the Hufflepuff.

Luca, who was panting as much as the other boy was glaring but smirking as well as it seemed to provoke the Gryffindor. “Thought a Chaser would punch better than that.” he wiped the small amount of blood from his lips.

James wanted to go back at him but you pushed him yet again. “JAMES!” you glared at him. “What the hell?!”

“Yeah, (y/n)! What the hell?!!” he snapped at you as well, pointing his hand at the Hufflepuff. “Luca Oliveira?! Him?!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business?” you finally buttoned up the part that would cover your skin, taking a step back and closing to Luca.

You could feel his hand take a hold of you from behind and you gladly took it as he always did bring you comfort.

“This tosser?!”

“OI!” You felt Luca storm by you but you quickly pulled him back.

“Luca no!” you pulled him back, trying to calm him down and placing your hand on his chest, trying to catch his gaze. “Luca.” you put your hand on his cheek and brushed it lightly until his eyes looked at yours- from fire to admire. He smiled sweetly at you, putting his hand on top of yours. “Let me take care of him.”

“You won’t- I mean-” he started to panic but you quickly smiled and shook your head.

“Just go get a pack before it gets swollen.” you sent him away and barely left the room, shooting James an ugly glare.

When he left you turned back and tucked the ends of your shirts to your sides, making him scoff and roll eyes. “Oh, come on (y/n)! It’s not something I haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, well it’s something only me and Luca get to see from now on!”

“OH! Who do you think you are? Made of gold?”

“Might as well!”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just one of many girls. There are others with much better bodies than you!”

“Well, then you won’t mind me covering my skin, would you?” you continued to button the shirt until you saw Luca’s hoodie over the armrest and threw it over you, only goading the boy in front of you.

“Cute.” he glanced at the sweater, turning it into an eye roll.

“You jealous?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Jealous?! JEALOUS?!!” he continued to laugh in disbelief. “Why would I ever be jealous of him when I’m with Lily?!”

“I don’t know, James! Why would you ever attack Luca like that? Why would you tackle him on the ground and punch him?!” you started to get more furious, causing him to be silent as he contemplated. “You said it yourself. No strings attached-”

“Yeah well, you broke it first by falling in love!”

“And I told you I won’t complicate and stand between the amazing, hubba-bubba love you and Lily have. Did I attack Lily? No. Did it hurt? Yes but I sucked it up because that’s what maturity is! And when you clearly didn’t care half of shit for me I realized that I need to move on as you had clearly moved on with Lily!”

“Don’t say I didn’t care for you! I did!” he pointed his finger at you, growling and glaring at you.

“WHERE?!” you snapped, opening your arms and looking around. “Where did you care for me?! The sex part? That wasn’t caring- it was pleasure. What Luca gives me isn’t just pleasure, it’s love and I gotta say James I feel loved when I’m with him.”

“But do you love him?”

“I don’t know. Do you love Lily?” you stared at him and he stared back, the tension between the two of you building.

“I have to.”

“That’s not clear enough. Are you in love with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Love isn’t an obligation, James.”

“WELL FINE! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” he blurted all of a sudden, just as he did with you and his feelings he wasn’t aware until they were said. He stared at you for a while as you stared back into his eyes, feeling your whole world turn upside down.

You started backing away. “No.” you said, your voice quivering.

“I guess I am in love with you.” he smiled to himself, finally feeling his heart function properly. “I am in love with you- I love you!” he beamed and ran to you, taking your hands into his. He wanted to kiss you but you just couldn’t do it.

“No, James!” you pushed him away again.

“What do you mean no? I love you. I finally know now-”

“NO!” you shouted, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You don’t get to realize it four months later and come running back to me as if I had waited for you. I moved on! I healed! I don’t want you anymore. You’re too late!”

And it felt like the heart that finally started beating died away.

“You can’t.”

“You’re with Lily.”

“I can break up with her.”

“I’m with Luca.”

“You can break up with him.”

“I’m not breaking up with him.” you watched him. “Don’t you get it, James. I’m moved on from you and I fell in love with another person. I fell in love with someone who isn’t afraid to show how much he loves me. He’s vocal about it, he holds my hand, he’s not afraid to tell me what he feels and I love that about him. He makes me feel amazing about myself and with you? With you, I felt like just someone there for you.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Yes, it is! Because you were NEVER THERE FOR ME!” your voice cracked and your tears started to appear. “We talked about you! We did the whole sex deal to please you! We never once made a decision based on my needs! And I needed to be loved! I needed love. I needed support and someone to turn to.”

“You know you could always turn to me.”

“No.” you shook your head. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Please, (y/n).” he took your hands in his again. “Give me a second chance. I can prove it to you. I can love you. I can cherish you more than any man can. I can show you how much I love you-”

And to you, that felt like everything you wanted to hear from him... once. Once when you told him you were in love with him. Once when he looked at you but still chose to kiss her. Once in all those four months.

Not anymore.

“No.”

“I just realized! I didn’t know I loved-”

“No!” you shouted, ripping your hands away from him and crying. “You loved me?!” your voice continued to crack, barely letting out any sound. “Did you love me when you kissed her? Did you love me when you chose her over me? Did you love me when you saw me in the hall and decided to ignore me? Did you love me when you made love to her? When did you love me?”

“I DIDN’T KNOW!”

“Well, neither did I, James and that’s not my problem. Not anymore.” you started to pick up your stuff, turning him your back.

“You can’t do this? If you loved me, you wouldn’t turn your back on us so fast.”

“It took me months to get over you. Why would I want to get back to you when I have such an amazing guy waiting for me with a bruised lip?” you smiled as you thought of him. “Turning my back on us is the least thing I could do after what you did. You didn’t give us even a chance.”

“You don’t love him.” his voice quivered, his eyes tearing up. “Do you?” his voice was so weak by now that it sounded just like yours months ago.

You knew how much it hurt him but once you lose trust into someone, it’s hard to get back and you just couldn't’ go back when you’ve come this far.

“It’s too late, James. I just don’t want you anymore.” you shook your head and started backing away, seeing tears fall down his cheeks as you did.

It squeezed your heart to see him broken but you and James stopped existing a long time ago.

“Please.” you could hear his plea behind you, causing you to lose so much strength in your body, you could feel your legs go numb.

This was the hardest part, (y/n).

You looked over your shoulder to find him there standing in defeat and tears. “No.”

The hardest but finally the last.

#james potter imagine #james #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauder #marauders era #the marauders #marauders ima #Marauders imagine #Marauders imagines

305 notes · View notes

the-silvertonguewitch · 4 years ago

Text

Musings on Lyra’s journey in TSC

I’ve been thinking a lot about Lyra’s journey in the second and (upcoming) third book of the Book of Dust series. Especially about the hints and clues from TSC pointing to some eventual “sacrifice” (to get Pan back, to enter the red building) in the final book. Beware: spoilers for TSC below.

I don’t think that Will and Lyra reunite, or see each other again. Pullman could’ve made it work at some point, but not after TSC. Lyra’s journey there is too dependent on Will not coming back.

Let me explain. Lyra and Will could’ve chosen to stay together. They could’ve made the choice to live a very shortened life together. We know why they didn’t: as Will puts it, one of them would’ve died young, leaving the other grief stricken, and it would’ve meant two lives wasted. On the flipside, they would’ve loved each other deeply and intensely – probably more deeply and more intensely than most, since they would’ve known from the beginning that their years together were counted – and it would’ve been, all in all, two short lives well spent.

Again, they could’ve chosen that. Instead, at the end of TAS, they decide to give a life without each other a chance.

But what’s been life for Lyra so far, eight years later? She’s a student at St-Sophia, a good one, gets good grades, is probably somewhat interested – but doesn’t sound passionate – about what she’s studying. Friends at school? There’s Miriam – more a casual class buddy than a real intimate BFF. Lovers? There’s Dick Orchard, though from the look of it their relationship erred more on the “friends with benefit” side (and at some point, it’s strongly implied that Lyra never touched Dick’s daemon Bindi, contrasting the deep, soul-like connection she had with Will). She forbids herself from getting too close with boys she might fall in love with (coughMalcoughcom) out of fear of being unfaithful to Will’s memory. All in all, it’s exactly like what she tells Farder Coram: “I thought all the danger was over… Everything, the good as well as the bad, it was all over. There was nothing left but learning and… Well, just that, really.” (TSC, p. 280) She adopts the new trendy way of thinking of Brande and Talbot, one of cold rationality, hard facts, a black and white representation of the world, because Brande and Talbot’s philosophy deny the reality itself of every traumatic experience she had to go through between 11 and 13: the knowledge of who her parents were (as well as the lack of closure in her relationship with both of them), being almost separated from Pan in Bolvangar, Roger’s death, coming across soul-eating specters, having Pan ripped out of her heart, loosing Will. If daemons don’t exist, if there’s no land of the dead and no specters, if love is nothing but a fancy of the mind, then Lyra can’t be hurt by these things, unless by deluding herself into believing that they’re real. Her fascination with Brande and Talbot is a coping mechanism, and it could almost work, except that it’s the perfect recipe for a bleh, bland life.

Fact is, TSC’s Lyra probably, consciously or not (but more consciously than not, I’d wager), regret parting from Will. If she had gone with him into his world, she’d be in pretty bad shape by now but so what? She would’ve been happy. Happier, at least. Fulfilled.

I even wonder if that isn’t one of the reasons behind her estrangement with Pan. Going with Will would’ve meant choosing love over life, and what is a person’s daemon, if not that person’s “life”, in animal form? Why else would daemons disappear when their person dies? Why else would they be forbidden from crossing into the land of the dead?

And so, maybe, her journey in the TSC is about discovering that the choice she made in TAS wasn’t a “wrong” one after all. That she can still live a wholesome, fulfilling life, and that she can still love as deeply as she once did with Will. That she can still hope.

This doesn’t mean that Lyra will love Malcolm “more” than Will, nor the other way around (that Malcolm would merely be the “second choice”, the best she could hope for if she can’t be with Will). Pullman pulls tricks like these all the time. He did it with Jim and Sally, and with Ginny in The Broken Bridge, and now he’s doing it with Lyra too: protagonists falling deeply in love with someone, loosing that love, and unexpectedly finding another love. That “other” love is never presented as “more” or “less” than the first, because that’s not the point. The point is that there’s always hope.

Strangely enough, Lyra and Malcolm’s journeys in TSC have quite a few parallels with Lyra and Will in TSK (and somewhat in TAS too, though I expect the third installment of TBoD to have more parallels with TAS specifically). Only this time, Lyra is Will and Malcolm is Lyra. Lyra is the one without a daemon, the odd one out, the one who makes herself invisible, who’s desperately looking for a lost loved one, who can’t return home, who finds comfort in letters written by someone she cares for, who gets her hand badly wounded in a fight. Malcom is the one searching for Dust rose oil, the straight-face liar, the slightly obnoxious, the one who gets out of sticky situations all the time but still ends up drugged and passed out in a train (but not in a suitcase at least). I’m not sure where the story is going with this or what’s the purpose of these parallels, though I’d guess that they contain some hints and clues of what’s gonna happen in the last BoD. Lyra’s journey doesn’t only boil down to romance either. Romantic love, and all other kinds of love, is just a part of Lyra’s lost “shadow”. Or Lyra’s lost “Dust”, as I believe that that’s what the “shadow” refers to in the poem of Jahan and Rukhsana. Malcolm concludes that Rukhsana’s stolen shadow = Lyra’s daemon Pan, but I’m not sure if Pullman isn’t pulling another trick on us, because –

“Nevertheless, that shadow-colored cat on the moonlit lawn…” (TSC, 143)

“As if Gottfried Brande was some kind of enchanter who made you forget everything you used to love, everything mysterious, all the places where the shadows are.” (TSC, 175)

“You’re expecting the sun to describe shadows. The sun has never seen a shadow.”

“But the world is full of shadows.” […] “I came here”, Pan said, “because reading your novel persuaded my Lyra that the things she believed in were false. It made her bitterly unhappy. It was as if you’d stolen her imagination and taken away her hope with it.” (TSC, 360-361)

I could probably quote more, but you get the picture. It seems like what Lyra hopes to find in the red building is Dust/shadow particles – meaning that she, too, knows that *something* was taken from her – and she hopes to find it there, specifically, probably because she’s already unconsciously linked the red building to the world of the Mulefas, where the flow of Dust was so abundant and where she and Will kissed for the first time.

All that to say, Rukhsana’s stolen shadow = Lyra’s stolen imagination/Dust. Or so I believe for now. We’ll see.

It’s complicated, though, because in the poem, Rukhsana must make a great sacrifice to get her shadow back, and likewise Lyra’s told by that alchemist in Prague that she’ll have to make a great sacrifice to get Pan back – and even then, that she’ll get him back, but “not in the way” she’d expect. We also learn from Dr. Strauss’s journal that entering the red building costs a life. Another sacrifice, another place.

For Pan, I have my own guesses. The “sacrifice” will either be 1) Lyra giving up absolute rationality, which means she’ll also have to face all the traumas she’s been repressing and discounting as “not real” so far, or 2) Pan will return to Lyra, but as an invisible part of her or hidden inside of her, like peoples’ “daemons” from Will’s world. They’ll never part again, but Lyra will lose the companionship that she had with an external part of herself. Hence Pan not returning to her “in the way she thinks”.

Actually, I’d think that we could see 1) and 2) both. In TSC, Lyra questions the realness of daemons and it would be almost too easy to deny their existence altogether if they weren’t visible. Obviously TBoD will not end with Lyra now enlightened with the understanding that Pan never existed and was just a “projection of the mind”, so for Pan to disappear inside of her, and for her to truly believe in his existence regardless, would point to some significant change of faith, which is probably what the books are building up to anyway.

The “sacrifice” needed to enter the red building is even murkier. From Strauss’s journal, it’s sort of implied that Strauss and Cariad were the “payment” for the rose specimens given to Hassall, so I’m not sure if the sacrifice “pays” for an entrance into the building, or if it pays for the knowledge of what’s inside it. Besides, Lyra and Malcolm are probably both going in – or, rather, Malcolm was sent there by Oakley Street with the official purpose of gathering information while Lyra is traveling to Karamakan with the intent of entering the building, so they both seem set up to parallel Dr. Hassall (Malcolm) and Dr. Strauss (Lyra), respectively; however, once they reach the place they’ll obviously both go in, so the “life payment” might not be required.

How they’ll trick their way into leaving the red building is another matter. Again, I’d expect some nods and callbacks to TAS, especially the part where Will and Lyra managed against all odds to escape from the world of the dead. Back then they had the knife and Lyra’s imagination (part of the deal was that they’d tell stories to the harpies in exchange for their help at finding the way out). Might be that Lyra’s newly returned talent at storytelling comes in handy this time again. Or maybe – and this is just a very big MAYBE –

The story she will tell in the red building is the poem of Jahan and Rukhsana. Oh, but what if it must be a true story? Well actually, it is, and Lyra and Malcolm are right there to prove it. How “true” the story is, that’s like asking how true to reality a metaphor is. It’s a matter of perception, or rather, imagination.

#HDM metas #his dark materials #the secret commonwealth #lyra silvertongue #lyra belacqua #malcolm polstead #my metas #hdm spoilers

25 notes · View notes

fvrxdrm · 4 years ago

Text

Why (Songfic)

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warning: none

Song: Why by Sabrina Carpenter

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You like New York City in the day time

I like New York City in the night time

You didn't know why he despised the city when the skies begin to darken and the sun wasn't out. You figured it was because he was afraid of the dark? Maybe he had nightmares when he was a kid and they just stuck with him while he was growing up? You didn't know.

While he hated the city during the night, you loved it very much. You loved how the stars would just twinkle and their brightness would contrast to the deep-colored skies as well as the city lights that would really captivate you when you look out the window.

Now to him, he knew you would never understand why he hated it during the night. Not just New York though, everywhere he goes he's hated the darkest times. It was night time when the unexpected nightmare happened back in Raccoon City and most of his past missions happened during the night. The only time he's had a mission with the sun still up was in the Eastern Slav Republic and a little bit of New York. Though, when the New York incident happened the horrors really began at night and it gave him more reasons to hate the darkness.

You said you like sleeping with the air off

I don't, I need it on

There was this one time when you felt like it was too hot and was about to lower the air conditioner's temperature more but Leon told you not to because he felt cold already. You were puzzled because the temperature was literally at 25 degree Celsius AND he was huddled up in his thick blanket even though you were slightly sweating and no blanket was covering you. You weren't even wearing a pair of long pajamas and long-sleeved shirt when you went to bed that night. He was a really different story.

Leon didn't want to admit that the reason he didn't really like the cold is because most of the time his surroundings was chilly it was when another bioterrorism attack happens. From the cold waters he manages to end up to to the cold night air that would always send chills down his spine. That's why he always wears a jacket whenever he's on a mission.

You like the light coming through the windows

I sleep late, so I just keep 'em all closed

Like I said, he hates the darkness and the light coming through the windows was one of the things that would keep him sane whenever he falls asleep besides you. Though, he just rings up the curtains and never opens the windows because like I said, he doesn't like the cold. The light makes him feel safe for some reason.

You though, liked to keep the windows closed because it made you feel more peaceful. Like nothing could interrupt your late slumber. But when you began dating Leon and found out how he likes them open because it makes him feel safe, you didn't mind it that much and have gotten used to it over the years. You just wanted Leon to be safe. Safe from whatever horrors have been going through his head.

You ignore the music on the radio

I don't, I sing-along

You see, Leon was a loner after Raccoon City and before he met you. He never really experienced fun and was mostly silent. He's mouth only ran when he has a plan or when he has a snarky remark planted on his head, ready to be used.

Whenever music would play in the car he would ignore it even if it was one of the favorite songs he used to love during his youth years. The music at the bars he go to? Bleh. He doesn't even pay attention to them. His mind would always block off the world around him.

So when he met you and noticed how you would sing-along to every music that played on the radio out loud, he paid attention to you and only you because he found it cute how your body would move dramatically as if you were in a concert and you're the singer. He still wouldn't sing-along but he would watch you with loving eyes.

"Here", Leon gave you a handgun and a knife to defend yourself with. Your eyes widened. You know how to use a knife. It's easy. Just stick the whole blade in and you're done. But a gun? That's a whole different story.

"Leon, I-I don't know how to use a gun", your gaze slowly shifted from the weapons in your boyfriend's hands to the ocean-eyed man's face in front of you.

"That's why I'll teach you how to. Here", Leon made sure that no undead would come and get you before he turned you around so your back was facing him and held both of your hands with the handgun he gave you tight in your grasp. He taught you how to aim, shoot, and reload correctly and you nailed it quickly in a matter of minutes.

Now, you were sitting on a dusty and abandoned couch to catch your breaths. You had so many questions running through your head.

Was this real?

Was this some sick joke?

Was this just a random nightmare you were having?

God, you wished it was. You really did. You wished you would just wake up in your bed, cozily snuggled against Leon.

"So, you know how I hate the dark, right?" Leon broke the silence that was surrounding you both.

"Yeah"

"You know how I hate the cold?"

"Yeah"

"You know how I was a loner before I met you?"

"Yeah", you were now starting get puzzled as to why he was mentioning the things he doesn't like while you were in a situation like this.

"This is why"

What?

This confused you.

This is the reason why? What? Huh?

As if he could read your mind he spoke out his answer with trauma hidden in his voice.

"This is my job. To kill the undead. Heh. I know it sounds crazy but it isn't, really. I got used to it", he took a long pause before he continued to speak the truth about his hatefulness towards certain things.

"I was one of Raccoon City's survivors. It was my first day as a police officer and...this is exactly what happened", Leon raised his arms up to emphasize what he meant by 'this is exactly what happened'.

Raccoon City. You've heard about it before but all you knew was that the government wiped the city out but never knew why.

"A virus made by a pharmaceutical company broke out. It infected the whole city's people and only four of us survived"

You were speechless. You didn't know what to say. You wanna tell Leon that everything's gonna be okay but that's really ironic considering your situation right now and your mind just seemed to scramble things around.

"Before I met you I drowned myself in alcohol. Didn't really care if I was slowly killing myself", he spoke again while he kept his head high towards the ceiling.

"You're different. You're peaceful. I'm not. You're always this bright sunshine while I'm this gloomy ass moon, dependent on the light you give", he chuckled in his throat and turned towards your direction before speaking again.

He was very grateful that you were patient with him. He really was. Words can't express how grateful he was to have you.

"I'm...sorry if I'm not the ideal guy you want", your eyes widened in shock at the words that left his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm not like you. We mostly don't have similarities", before he could speak again you cut him off by letting your heart out too.

"Leon, if I didn't want you do you think I would've said yes when you asked me to be yours?" Leon went silent and gestured you to continue what you were saying. You held his hand as gentle as possible while your e/c eyes continued to stare at his blue ones before speaking again.

"I don't care if we're not alike. I love you because of who you are. You care for me as much as I care for you and that's enough. As long as I feel safe with you and you feel safe with me then I'm fine. Do you feel safe with me?" Leon nodded his head while muttering a 'yes'.

"Then I'm perfectly okay with it", you placed a quick peck on his slightly chapped lips that you love before pulling him tightly in your arms.

"You know Romeo and Juliet, right?" You questioned the man that had his nose nuzzled against your neck. It was sticky and sweaty due to the amount of running you did but he could care less. All that's important to him is that you're here with him.

"Mhm. The star-crossed lovers", Leon voice became muffled against your skin but you heard it clearly.

"This may sound cheesy but that's what we are. Two completely different people who fell in love with each other" you smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on top of his head.

It was silent for a moment until Leon's low chuckle broke the silence again.

"This is really working, huh?" He spoke.

"Yeah"

I don't ask for you to change, baby no no no

And you don't ask for me to change

Tell me how we're not alike

But we work so well and we don't even know why

Funny how the stars crossed right

'Cause we work so well and we don't even know why

You can call it fire and ice

But we work so well and we don't even know why

We don't even know why, no no

We don't even know why, no no no

"And sometimes...we don't even know why", Leon spoke before he laid the both of you down on the couch and pulled you closer, making sure that you were safe and sound before drifting off to dreamland with you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm sorry. This was kind of rushed and I used my phone to write this and it's a struggle. LOL.

Anyways, Reunited still has one last part. It's smutty. It's still in the writing. I was in the middle of writing it and I got lazy for some reason. LMAO.

#leonxreader #leon+kennedy+imagine #leonkennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon+s+kennedy+x+reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #songfic

62 notes · View notes

stuhde · 3 years ago

Note

Hiiii Lama!! I hope that you’re well~ Sticky-notes and Stamps for the stationary asks! 💗🌸

gabr!!! i hope you're doing well my dear. and thank you for asking - i'm just enjoying my sunday evening!

sticky notes: what kind of book / movie would you write?

oh this is a GOOD question. a friend of mine once told me that her ultimate goal in life is to make a tv show similar to blackish (in terms of humor and such), but starring a Muslim-American family because so much of the representation in western media is very... bleh? and kinda meh? i don't really think any of the "YA" tv shows on air do a very good job of representing young Muslim kids in the West and their relationship with navigating their identity. ramy, i would say, is the cloest, but even then, i am not the biggest fan with how Muslim women are depicted on the show. so if i were to write a movie, i would def. help my friend with that, especially when shining light on the expereince of being a Black AND Muslim woman <3

stamps: a personal achievement you’re proud of

oh wow, you're just sending me all the most interesting questions! i think a personal achievement i'm proud of is that i recognized early on that i don't have to take things after college at the "traditional pace." almost everyone i know is either in law school, med school, or some kind of graduate program, and after really grinding it out for four years, i asked myself, "do i really need to be doing this?" so i decided to gain work experience first, allow myself to recharge, give myself the opportunity to discover other things that might ultimately make me happier than what i orginally planned for myself. i think it's really hard to watch other people (and in masses) do something, while you don't, but it's also important to remember that you're in control of your own life and that there is ALWAYS time for everything, so there's truly no need to get it all done before 25-30.

send me a stationery ask!

#sorry gab these were so long!!#but thank you for asking them!!#stationery asks #ask games #gabri!!#mutuals #knife gang #gabrilearnelle #answered

3 notes · View notes

ericsonclan · 4 years ago

Text

Dysfunctional Decorating

Summary: Carley and Lee work with their kids to decorate the house for Christmas and have some chocolaty drinks afterwards.

Word Count: 4193

Read on AO3:

Marlon sat on the couch, his hands brushing against his guitar as he positioned it on his knee. Slowly his fingers began to pluck the strings, causing a series of notes that sounded like a familiar Christmas song. His tongue stuck out slightly while he concentrated on reading the sheet of music in front of him. The caramel colored guitar let out a sour note, causing the twelve year old to scrunch his face in annoyance.

“Damn it,” Marlon whispered under his breath and worked to retune the guitar before starting up again. He was through the first few notes of the song when his younger sister Clementine ran down the stairs, her arms filled with white Christmas tree lights.

“Hey, Marlon.” Clementine gave a warm smile to her brother. “Working on a Christmas song?”

“Yeah, I wanted something to make our first Christmas as a family special,” The blond scratched the back of his head with an introverted smile. “But I’m still learning how to play.” He had hoped he would learn to play the song by now to surprise the others and make it so that they would bond more together as a family. It had only been a few months since they’d become a new family and to say that it had been rocky so far would be an understatement. But Marlon was hoping that Christmas would turn that around.

“Well, I thought it sounded good so far.” Clementine gave a soft smile towards Marlon. “You wouldn’t mind me decorating for a bit while you play, would you?” “Not at all,” Marlon waved a hand. “But I thought we’d start decorating when Mom and Dad got home?”

“We will with the tree and stuff,” Clementine walked over to the display table and placed down the lights on the sofa next to it. “But I couldn’t wait to decorate with my animal skulls!” Clementine’s eyes danced with excitement at the thought.

Marlon gave a soft chuckle. “Sounds good to me,” His fingers repositioned on the strings and his full concentration returned to the song. The notes began to dance through the air, bringing to life “Silent Night”. Clementine hummed along to the song happily as she weaved the lights around and through the various animal skulls of hers. Marlon glanced up, sharing a gentle smile with his sister before returning to his playing. After a few minutes the song stopped and Clementine had finished draping her lights. With a drumroll given by Marlon, Clementine plugged in the lights, brightening up the skulls and illuminating their beauty. Marlon gave a whistle, placing down his guitar before strolling over to stand by his sister.

“That looks awesome, Clem.” Marlon placed his hands on his hips and smiled down at her. Clementine looked up and immediately shared the smile. “Thanks. I-”

She was suddenly cut off when she heard the excited cheering of her older sister Renata coming from the kitchen. The brother and sister shared a look before strolling into the kitchen to check and see what was happening. When they did they were surprised to see Renata bouncing ecstatically by the kitchen counter. Her hands pressed on the counter while she cheered on her brother Mitch. Mitch seemed to be completely focused on whatever odd challenge he and Renata had concocted. Marlon and Clementine watched in curious silence as Mitch chugged whatever was in the mug. A small string of steam showed that the liquid was still quite warm. The brown liquid poured into his mouth but quickly overfilled it and fell down his face and throat in a steady stream. With a frantic gurgling sound, Mitch ran to the sink and started spitting out a massive white blob from his mouth along with the brown liquid.

“Whoa! That was impressive, Mitch!” Renata gave a round of applause before a mischievous smile overtook her face. “But I’m gonna do way better!

“Bullshit!” Mitch gave a sharp cough. “No way you can drink more than I could.”

“What’s going on?” Prisha’s voice appeared from the entryway to the kitchen. Marlon and Clementine glanced back at their oldest sister.

“Mitch and I are having a special Christmas challenge,” Renata wiggled her eyebrows playfully. “We stuff our mouths full of marshmallows then try to see how much hot cocoa we can chug. Mitch wimped out after only drinking a third of his drink.”

“Wimped out!” Mitch huffed, a competitive smile appearing on his face even though his eyes held a small level of annoyance at his sister. “Please, I bet you can’t do any better!”

“Ha!” Renata shook her head. “Ye of little faith,” She strolled over to where the marshmallows were and started stuffing her mouth. Prisha rolled her eyes at the sight and was about to walk off when Aasim’s voice appeared beside her.

“What is happening?”

“Mit-” Renata began to talk but then started to choke. Marlon ran forward and gave her back a few whacks, clearing her airway. Renata turned to her brother and gave him a thumbs up with watery eyes.

“Renata and I are having some good Christmas fun, “ Mitch answered with a happy smile.

“It seems ridiculous,” Aasim looked on with disapproval.

“Thank you, I was about to say the same thing. I can’t believe-” Prisha paused in her sentence when she realized she was agreeing with Aasim. Even after all these months, Prisha’s insecurities had blocked her chances of connecting with her brother in fears that he would prove to be the smartest and make her position in the family moot. Renata’s odd laughter, half blocked by the marshmallow in her mouth, drew the other siblings’ attention to the middle child. She had successfully filled her mouth with marshmallows again and was beginning to drink the hot cocoa. A weird noise emitted from her mouth as steam poured from it. The siblings watched in awe as their sister nearly finished the cup before leaning over the sink and spitting up the marshmallows.

“What the fuck!” Mitch’s eyes were large with disbelief. “I want a rematch!”

Renata looked up at her brother, her face completely drenched in hot cocoa. “ Anyti-” A sudden burp stretched out her word until she finished it. “Time.” The siblings all looked at each other and started to laugh at what had happened when the front door opened. Mitch and Renata were off like shots, barreling past Prisha and Aasim who started scolding their younger siblings for their rudeness when they saw their parents at the door.

“We’re home!” Lee’s comforting voice rang out through the house. He placed down the bag of groceries and began to help Carley take off her winter jacket.

“Thanks,” Carley smiled lovingly at her husband then captured his lips in a quick kiss.

“Bleh!” Mitch stuck out his tongue in disgust, making the couple look over at their son.

“Mitch, “ Lee began, “That's not a very nice thing to say.”

“Yeah,” Renata scampered forward. “You’re losing major points.” She gave a teasing smile over towards her brother then looked up at her mom. “I can help you with that scarf, Mom.”

“That would be great, thank you.” Carley smiled down at her daughter, a smile that disappeared for a second when her hands touched Renata’s, surprised that they were sticky. “Renata, why are your hands sticky?” Carley asked even though she had a pretty good idea what her daughter would say.

“Mitch and I had a friendly competition. I won!” Renata declared proudly. Mitch’s frown grew at that statement.

“What kind of competition was it?” Lee picked up the groceries when Clementine moved forward.

“I can help, Dad.”

Lee’s smile grew; he was still getting used to having daughters and them calling him their father, even if not all of them did yet. “That would be great,” Lee and Carley began to walk to the kitchen to help unload while Renata answered the question.

“Who could drink the most hot cocoa with their mouths filled with marshmallows.” Renata skipped over to the kitchen with the rest of her family.

“You got eggnog!” Marlon’s eyes danced with excitement at the sight while he helped put away groceries.

“Couldn’t have Christmas without it,” Carley gave a warm smile that dissipated when she saw two large white sticky blobs in the kitchen sink. One look towards her children made it clear who the culprits were. “Renata, Mitch, clean this up please.”

“But, Carley-” Mitch started to argue but saw the look in Carley’s eyes and shut up immediately. The two siblings groaned as they worked to clean up their mess while the others finished putting away the groceries.

“Once we have everything put away, we can bring in the tree.” Prisha’s eyes brightened at that and she moved quicker in helping out. When all the groceries were put away the family moved outside to the car where the tree remained tied on top. Lee went to work right away to help untie the tree along with Marlon and Mitch. As soon as the knots were loose the family worked to carry the tree. Carley led the way followed by Marlon who stood in front of Prisha. Next in line was Renata then Aasim, lastly were Clementine and Mitch who insisted on taking the base since he figured it would be the heaviest. Lee stood at the back and made sure the weight was distributed before speaking up.

“Alright Car, we’re good to go.”

With that confirmation Carley started moving forward and within minutes they were inside the house and working to set up the tree into the tree holder.

“A bit more to the left,” Carley instructed. The kids worked to push the tree as their mom tried to get the tree centered. “Alright, we’re good.” The kids all let out sighs of relief before they noticed Lee working to press the screws in place to hold the tree up. Aasim immediately moved to help along with Clementine and with the three sets of hands the tree was set.

“Okay, let's split up the work. Renata, can you start the Christmas music?” Lee smiled over at his daughter.

“Sure thing, Pops.” Renata slid across the floor and started the music while Lee and Carley worked to split up their kids into the most fitting roles. “Surprise!” Renata ran forward and started to put Santa hats on everyone. Some members of her family looked touched by the gesture such as Marlon and Clementine who both thanked their sister after she put the hats on their heads, while others seemed less enthusiastic about the whole thing.

“Why do I get the shitty one?” Mitch huffed, snatching the pink sparkly Santa hat off his head and throwing it on the ground.

Renata gave a dramatic gasp. “How dare! I gave you Mom’s prized Christmas hat and you toss it on the ground!”

“I’m not surprised,” Prisha replied with a hand on her hip.

Mitch repeated the sentence in a mocking tone, causing his eldest sister’s eyes to narrow in anger.

“Alright, alright,” Lee stepped in between his kids with his hands outstretched. “I’ll wear the special pink hat.”

Renata’s eyes sparkled at that and with a big hop she placed the hat on Lee’s head. With that argument under control, Lee and Carley continued to split up the tasks. After a few minutes the teams of two were beginning their work. Renata and Clementine stood on opposite sides of the tree and began to string up the lights. The pair of sisters giggled as they tossed the pile of lights back and forth, haphazardly draping them over the tree’s form. After a few minutes the two stepped back and smiled over at Lee.

“Look, Lee,” Clementine held out her hands and displayed the tree alongside Renata who was being her usual dramatic self.

Lee looked at the tree that had weird lumps of lights that tangled and swirled around it. “I think you two gave it a good try. But why don’t we start again - I’ll help out this time.”

Renata and Clementine shared a sad look but that quickly faded.

“Okay!” Renata’s smile grew when Lee gave her and Clementine each a head pat before the trio worked to untangle the lights on the tree and start again. Prisha and Aasim glanced up from their spot on the floor.

“Pass me that next box,” Aasim held out his hand and Prisha gave him the box of Christmas ornaments. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Prisha gave a short smile. The pair worked in silence, unraveling the different ornaments and organizing them into different categories. The brother and sister were starting to get along through the simple act of Christmas organizing. But that all went away when Lee came by to check to see how they were doing.

“Hey you two, how are you doing? Need an eggnog break?” Lee’s warm smile made his son return it in kind but it didn’t seem to work on Prisha.

“No thank you, Lee.” Prisha immediately returned to her work but her statement seemed to have rubbed Aasim the wrong way as he looked at Prisha with annoyance.

“You should call him Dad.” Aasim’s statement made Prisha’s eyes shot up. Lee looked alarmed by what was happening and was about to speak up when Prisha beat him to it.

“I won’t since he isn’t my dad. If you want me to call him that, then why don’t you stop being a hypocrite first and call our mom Mom.” Prisha’s tone had some bite to it that made Aasim stand up.

“No, I won’t do that. I thought you knew that but I guess you can’t comprehend that with your puny mind.”

“What was that!” Prisha hissed and jumped to her feet. The argument had caused everyone to stop what they were doing and look at the two siblings. “If we want to talk about small minds, then we don’t have to look anywhere else,” Prisha pointed at her brother with a smirk. “Because it's right here.” Aasim’s anger reached a new level, his eyes hardening as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Enough, you two,” Carley stood in between them with her arms crossed. “Now both of you apologize for what you said and we can return to having Christmas fun.”

“But, Mother,” Prisha began but the look in Carley’s eyes made it clear she would lose the argument.

“Fine,” Aasim walked forward and held out his hand. “Let’s move forward.”

“Apologize first,” Prisha glared at him.

Aasim looked shocked “ What? Why? You started this whole thing!”

“I did not!!” Prisha huffed.

“Alright, you two, apologize and move on or else both of you will get in trouble.” Lee moved forward with a stern look. All the other kids were watching their siblings in tense silence. Marlon and Clementine hoped that they could move past this and continue the decoration while Mitch and Renata seemed more interested in the chaotic route their siblings could take. Prisha stared at her brother’s extended hand and walked forward only to slither around the hand, walking past it.

“Prisha!” Carley scolded her daughter, but before she could continue Aasim spoke up.

“See! I told you it was all her fault!”

“My fault! I didn’t ask for some snotty sibling!”

“I could say the same thing!” Aasim snapped back.

“My family was perfect before you-” Prisha was cut off when Carley spoke up once more.

“Enough!” Her voice made all the siblings grow silent. All of their gazes looked towards the floor. They couldn’t believe Prisha had said that even if all of them had felt that to some varying degree during their first few months as this new family. Carley stared at both of her kids then back towards her husband. “Lee, can you grab the sweater?”

Lee gave a short nod and ran off towards his study. All the siblings shared a look, lost as to what that could mean. After a minute, Lee returned with a big, ugly Christmas sweater that had the words Our Getting Along Sweater on it. It only took a moment for Aasim and Prisha to get what their punishment was going to be.

“Wait, no, I apologize.” Aasim looked toward his sister frantically. “Accept it, Prisha.” “I accept, I apologize too,” Prisha hoped that it wasn’t too late to get out of the punishment.

“Sorry, kids.” Lee gave a smile. “But rules are rules.” Carley and Lee worked together and got the sweater over the brother and sister who look less than thrilled to be stuck together.

“Now you two will be stuck in that sweater for twenty minutes. If either of you make a mean comment about each other or say anything bad about this family, Lee and I will extend the timer.”

“Holy shit,” Mitch laughed wildly and fell off the couch where he was sitting. Renata joined into the laughter too and even though they tried to hide it, Clementine and Marlon had small smiles on their faces. Prisha and Aasim shared a mortified look before their faces fell.

“Now that that's done, I’m going to set up the reindeer display with Marlon and Mitch,” Carley leaned over, kissing Lee before giving his hand a quick squeeze.

“Alright, have fun.” Lee had a goofy smile on his face from the kiss.

Carley stole one more look then turned her attention to her sons. “Okay, who's ready?” she smiled over at the pair of brothers.

“I am,” Marlon held up his share of the reindeer. Mitch gave a mumbled response and with Carley’s help started to carry out the display. Once they had dropped off the reindeer Mitch sprinted around, slipping and sliding as he worked on the display.

“Careful,” Carley called out to her son who seemed too caught up in setting up the reindeer to listen. Marlon worked alongside his brother and soon the display was all set up. Carley got the cord and held it by the outlet. “So who should do the honors?” Me, me, me!” Marlon and Mitch chanted at the same time before frowning at each other. Carley let out a small half chuckle.

“Why don’t we all do it together?” The suggestion was received well and after placing a few fingers each on the cord, Carley started continuing up. “One… two.. Three!” The plug went into the outlet and lit up the white reindeer, giving them an ethereal glow on the snow-covered lawn. Mitch and Marlon stared in awe at the sight and shared a happy grin.

“Good job, you two,” Carley held up her hand, offering the chance at a high five. Marlon took the opportunity right away, his smile growing wider when he saw how happy it had made his mom. Mitch looked hesitant at the idea but moved forward and high fived with enthusiasm. Carley was taken aback by the strength but even more so by how happy Mitch looked at the high five.

“Let’s go back inside and see what else we can put up for decorations.”

The two brothers nodded and ran back inside, leaving Carley to bring up the rear. Once inside they saw that Renata and Clementine were setting up some more decorations. Lee had placed Clementine on his shoulders and was being navigated by Renata who held the wreath they were trying to put up.

“Yeah! Yeah! Right there!” Renata giggled and stood on her tiptoes to hand off the wreath to her sister. The trio cheered amongst themselves when they had successfully placed the wreath on the upper part of the wall. The odd placement made Carley think that Renata had asked for the wreath to be placed there.

Carley’s eyes looked over to see Aasim and Prisha still working hard on the ornaments, a more somber expression on each of their faces. She hated to put a damper on their moods but their fight had escalated to a point where they needed to have consequences. Her eyes stopped when they saw the vacation Santa that held a saxophone in one of the boxes. A small smile appeared on her lips at the story Lee had told of how Kenny had gifted him that many Christmases ago. Marlon and Mitch followed her gaze and soon smiles appeared on their faces as they ran over to get it. Carley moved forward, passing Prisha and Aasim who were talking amongst themselves.

“No, no, no. This should go in the fragile pile.” Aasim tutted as he took an ornament and moved it.

“You’re a fragile pile,” Prisha muttered under her breath.

“That's another five minutes,” Carley remarked as she strolled by, causing the pair of siblings to look shocked by the time increase.

“Good going, now we’re stuck in this sweater for even longer thanks to you. Who’s the dumb Indian child now?” Aasim smirked.

“That another five minutes,” Lee commented as he carried both Clementine and Renata across the room. Prisha and Aasim stared in disbelief then fell backwards with annoyed groans. Carley looked at them for a moment before Marlon’s voice drew her attention back to the task at hand.

“Mom, you put the batteries in wrong.”

“Hmmm, oh damn it,” Carley looked down at the batteries. She had in fact put the negative where it was clear the positive side of the battery should be.

“It’s no big deal,” Mitch grabbed the batteries and rearranged them. Marlon gave a reassuring smile towards Carley before the trio screwed the battery holder back in place. Just as before the three of them pushed the button together, causing jazzy Christmas tunes to play as Santa did a little dance. Everyone seemed intrigued by the funny Christmas display and took turns pressing the button.

After that was done they were finally ready to work on putting the ornaments on the tree. Clementine worked alongside Prisha, placing their favorites on the tree. Meanwhile Renata was hopping up and down to reach a spot when Marlon offered to help. Aasim worked with Carley, even though it was a bit of a struggle since he was still stuck in the sweater with Prisha. Aasim placed some ornaments and listened as Carley told the tales behind some of her favorites then proceeded to share some of his own. Mitch worked with Lee, getting on his shoulders to place the star up. When that was done, Lee moved to plug in the lights. Everyone watched in excited anticipation. When the bright lights of red, green, yellow and blue shone on the tree, the family gave a cheer.

“So, who’s ready for some hot cocoa?” Lee asked with a smile.

“Can I have eggnog too?” Marlon kicked his foot on the ground.

“Sure,” Carley placed a hand on his shoulder. “But only a little bit if you’re having both.”

“We can have both?!” Renata practically fell from her spot on the chair. Soon the other siblings joined in the discussion of what drinks they wanted. The family was starting to make their way to the kitchen when Clementine saw Aasim and Prisha still in their Christmas sweater, sitting on the couch. They both looked tired

“I can get you guys some drinks.” Clementine offered. Aasim and Prisha both gave small smiles to their youngest sibling, thanking her for generosity before saying that they both wanted hot cocoa. As the hot cocoa was made and distributed around the family, all of them sat around the front living room. Different Christmas-based conversations were brought up by each side of the family giving some tales from their past Christmases. When Renata was in the middle of her retelling of the Christmas where Prisha’s head had gotten stuck in one of Clementine’s animal skulls, she was shushed by her mom.

“Shh, a little quieter, Renata.” Carley gestured over to Prisha and Aasim whose heads were leaning against each other as they slept in their joined ugly Christmas sweater. Lee tiptoed forward and tossed a white winter blanket over the sleeping siblings.

“Oh,” Marlon got excited about an idea but quickly quieted down.

“What is it?” Carley leaned forward to place down her empty mug.

“I just wanted to….” Marlon fidgeted with his mug. “I learned how to play “Silent Night” on the guitar. Well, I’m learning it and I wanna play what I know so far if that's okay.”

“He’s really good,” Clementine gave a warm smile to her brother. Renata gave an excited squeal but immediately cupped her mouth when Prisha muttered in her sleep and stirred for a moment.

“Why don’t you get your guitar,” Lee whispered over to Marlon.

Marlon quietly made his way over and grabbed his guitar. Slowly he began to play the notes, forming a soft, sweet melody of the classic Christmas song. The family sat back and enjoyed the moment. Lee and Carley sat beside each other, their fingers intertwining as they listened to the song. It had been a chaotic time decorating for their first Christmas, but it had ended on a happy note. It had been fun. Looking at the expressions on their kids’ faces, it seemed they felt the same way.

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg marlon #twdg renata #twdg mitch #twdg prisha #twdg aasim #twdg carley #twdg lee #twdg carlee #fanfic #twdg christmas #everett bunch au #ericsonclanchristmaschallenge

7 notes · View notes

chillingaudrina · 4 years ago

Note

Last anon here! Np! Honestly I love the idea of a sequel to “into the void” like I mean the only thing good about this season to me was more about Robins past and the fact that they confirmed Theo and Robin live together. Everything else was so bleh like something that killed me is that they basically made jokes outta constantly only using the male characters as props. I love harvey and Robin and Theo and even book!Nick but in the show their so lackluster because of the rush. Like Robins last speaking like was in 6 even though he was in 8 like wtf? I love welcome to the void so much! Like I feel like you gave such good personality to Nick and Harvey and Robin. The show makes me out wordly agree because they cut so much. Mirada said there was 15+ minutes per episode filmed that they didn’t use which is so annoying.

There does seem to be a trend in media lately towards objectifying male characters as a response to female objectification, but it turns out it’s not fun when any people or characters are treated like objects! It’s unusual for me to complain about a show’s treatment of its male characters, lol, so that’s a novelty, but it gets increasingly sticky when you look at who those characters actually are. Theo is a gay trans man. Robin is queer. Nick is also queer, and a survivor of sexual assault (even though the show doesn’t directly acknowledge that). Harvey doesn’t conform to traditional masculinity (or he didn’t used to, anyway), and should be queer because I said so. With that added context, objectifying them feels even worse. It’s definitely tough to balance so many characters and give them all their due, but uh I don’t think whatever CAOS did was the answer lol.

15+ minutes per episode?!?! That’s a lot of minutes, especially for TV! What the hell. I’m so curious what was in there.

#asked and answered #Anonymous

3 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 6 years ago

Note

An idea (if you’ve not already written this) Loki and Elliot both have the flu (or severe cold) and Loki just knows he’s gonna die from this Midgardian bug. Reader is trying to take care of both before she gets sick too.

i can’t—this whole concept cracks me the feck up, thANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I never realised that the ever-nearing release of death would taste so sweet.” His voice is muffled under a pillow as he struggles to pull yet another blanket up to his chin. “I expected a bitterness, a dying, stale bitterness, but not this…”

“Ah yes, this ‘elixir of approaching death’ is bubblegum flavoured.” You sigh and open a new box of tissues, sticking them in the corner of the bed near his head as you take back the little cup of cough medicine. “All we had was the kids version, I quadrupled the dosage for you. You actually think this stuff tastes good?”

“Taste is an abstract concept,” he moans, a hand emerging from the pile of blankets to grab a tissue before retreating back into hiding with a hugely exaggerated sniff.

This is getting ridiculous…although it is a tiny bit refreshing to see your god of a husband taken out by something as trivial and as human as a common cold. The poor guy had woken up with a scratchy throat and had nearly blown a hole through the roof—“there’s something in my throat!! My throat, my throat, there’s something in my throat that I didn’t put there—DARLING, IT HURTS—”

Sore throats are apparently unheard of on Asgard. As are stomachaches, cramps, fevers, stuffy noses, and the overall idea of snot.

“I should have appreciated taste while I still possessed the ability to do so. I don’t believe I’ll ever know senses again—not that it will matter.” There’s a wet honk as he blows his nose. “Becau’de I’ll be dead.”

“…you’re not dying.”

“Life…death…such a fickle thing,” he practically sobs, clamping the pillow down over his face. “I never thought it would end so soon. I-I had so much more I wanted to achieve, I had thousands of years left to live!”

“Again, not dying.”

“Shhh. At least I will die by your side, my love.” He peeks out from under the pillow and reaches weakly for your hand, his eyes red and puffy. It’s hard to take him seriously right now, being so over dramatic and with two wads of tissue stuffed up his nose, but you give him a sweet smile and take his hand.

Ew, he’s all cold and clammy.

“You’ve given me everything, my love,” he sniffs and holds your hand tightly, trying for a weak smile. “Our time together has changed who I am, and…and I owe you everything.”

“Mhm. Are you seeing a bright light yet?” You brush a few sweaty strands of hair from his forehead and he melts into your touch, closing his eyes.

“Yes…yes, I see it! Should I chase after it?” His eyes fly open and he becomes fixed on the ceiling fan, eyes going in circles as he follows the blades around and around and around—

“Stop watching the fan, you’ll make yourself throw up,” you sigh, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his sweaty forehead. “Bleh. Okay, I’m going to go check on Elliot. Oh, and that’s just the bedroom light, not death’s door.”

“Don’t leave me,” he pleads and reaches a hand out to you. “I always knew I would die alone, but-but I want your heavenly smile to be the last thing I see before I go.”

You roll your eyes and turn back around, dropping your head against the doorframe with another exasperated sigh. “Loki, for the last time, you’re not dying. You’re both going to be fine, it’s just gonna hurt for a couple days.”

“Denial, you’re already in denial, darling,” he wails, flopping back onto the pillows and spreading his arms wide in defeat. “My time has come and all I can wish for are your lips, just once more, I beg of you…”

“You are such an idiot.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes pleading and pained. “Hush, please, just kiss me once more and send me off with the taste of you lingering on my fading lips…”

Shaking your head with a small smile, you walk back over to his bedside and he flops back onto the pillows, reaching for you with weak arms. “Please don’t make me kiss you.”

“You wouldn’t revoke the wish of a dying man, would you?”

There’s still tissue shoved up his nose.

You take the empty little cup of medicine and the box of tissues, holding it out to him. “Blow your nose like a proper human and maybe I‘ll reconsider.”

You’ve never seen such a sad, utterly defeated look in the eyes of a man before. Loki gives a violent cough and throws an arm over his eyes, staggering his breathing with a groan. “Tend to my son with care. Send him my eternal love, you immortal mortal.”

Somehow you had managed to evade this wave of flu season and Loki just can not comprehend how he has been so beaten by this “measly virus” while you, a proud every-morning orange juice drinker, had by some divine power been able to survive. Elliot got hit hard, and you think he’s the one who brought the sickness home, considering he spends most of his days in a classroom with a bunch of sticky, slimy, sometimes even drooling little kids.

Thank goodness your child is practically perfect in every way.

“MOMMYYYYY!” Elliot’s screaming for you from the bathroom down the hall. “I THREW’D UP!”

Practically…perfect…

“Don’t go into the light, babe,” you sigh and give Loki another kiss on the forehead, immediately gagging when you pull away and wiping off your mouth. “Ew, why did I do that again?”

“Ew?!” Loki repeats as you walk out the door, leaving him wailing under his pile of blankets. “You kiss me and say ‘ew’? I’m dying, and all you can say is ‘ew’—”

“Oh my god, I’ll kiss you later.”

Elliot is laying on the floor of the bathroom, having brought his pillow and blanket in to continue his nap by the toilet. “My everything hurts,” he whimpers when you kneel down beside him, running your hand through his hair.

“Don’t you want to get back in bed, sweetie?” The tile floor can’t possibly be comfortable, but he shakes his head and rolls onto his side.

“Too hot.” His fever has finally broken, so that’s not surprising.

“M’kay…why don’t you come lay in bed with dad?” You rub a comforting hand over his back. “Your own personal ice cube, that’ll make you feel better. And I think he could use the company.”

Elliot sniffs and slowly nods, sitting up and rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. After having him rinse out his mouth and drink some water, you pick him up and carry him back to your bedroom where Loki is surprisingly sitting up…and staring at the tissue in his hands with a look of pure horror.

“My brain,” he whispers, looking up at you with wide, watering eyes, “is leaking. Through my nose.”

“…no, it’s not.”

“Then what is this?!” He waves the dirty tissue at you as you lay Elliot on the bed, helping him prop his head up with an extra pillow.

“Oh my god, Loki, throw that away! That’s disgusting!”

Elliot curls up into a little ball and scoots over closer to his dad, who’s now fallen into some kind of paralysing shock, staring blankly at the foot of the bed in horror.

“All my knowledge,” he whispers, “everything I’ve ever known, dripping from my nose. This death is cruel, cruel, to keep me alive just to watch myself go mad.”

“Wait, we’re gonna die?” Elliot pipes up from under Loki’s arm—Loki hasn’t even seemed to notice until now that his son is there, as he is far too concerned with his “liquified brain.”

“No, no, no, neither of you are dying.” You fall onto the bed with a groan, rubbing your aching temples. “I swear if you say that one more time, Loki, I’m not even kissing you when you’re better.”

“Death is only natural, Elliot,” Loki murmurs, completely ignoring you, pulling the little boy into his arms and clutching him to his chest. “I always believed we would have more time together, but—”

“You’re nOT DYING, LOKI.”

“…see, your mother can’t quite accept the truth of the matter. Don’t be afraid, Elliot. I’m with you.”

Elliot’s gaping at you, stuck in his father’s hold and absolutely terrified. “I don’t wanna die! Mommy, I don’t wanna die!”

“Loki! Oh my god!” You hiss and clap a hand over Loki’s mouth, pulling your son into a hug. “You’re not going to die, I promise. You’re just a little bit sick! Both of you.” You shoot Loki a pointed glare. “Can you just trust me for a second? You’ll start feeling better in a few minutes when the medicine kicks in.”

“You’ve drugged us.”

“Yes, Loki, I drugged you. Now shut it before I shut you up myself.”

Loki pulls Elliot back against his chest and reaches for the tissues, shoving another wad up one nostril without breaking your gaze, and even in this state of “almost death,” you swear he smirks at your threat. And when he speaks, slowly turning a frosty blue as he runs a hand over Elliot’s sweaty back, his voice is all clogged up and nasally; “I’d cer’nly die a habby man.”

“That was SO attractive.”

He waves a blue hand at his face, heaving a great sigh that‘s just screaming for your sympathy and affection.

“That’s the best I can do. My brain is leaking, and death is inevitable.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi@drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #domestic!loki #dad!loki #sick loki #loki family #loki and son #elliot lokison #elliot lokason #loki drabbles #loki requests #loki funny #fluffy loki #marvel requests #marvel drabbles #marvel loki #marvel fanfiction

696 notes · View notes

thedistantdusk · 5 years ago

Note

Idk if you write things on request, but i would love a little story about Ginny talking about how Harry wants to have kids.

Ok... so I wasn’t going to write a follow up. And then I got this. And it’s an adorable idea. Sooo thanks, Anonymous! :D

On AO3.

Ginny and Hermione have been sitting in awkward silence for… Hermione checks her watch… approximately three minutes.

And honestly, Hermione’s at a total loss.

She heaves a sigh and stares at her friend from across the kitchen table at the Burrow. Ginny’s face is nearly as red as her hair, her eyes trained on the wood grain. Ginny’s always been the one who navigates social graces, who makes emotional inferences, who leads conversations.

But now? Hermione bites her lip. Ginny’s much more reminiscent of the girl who’d put her elbow in the butter dish than of the woman who’d spent a year leading an underground rebellion against a blood supremacist.

As such, Hermione’s only inkling as to the source of Ginny’s dilemma is that it somehow involves Harry.

So as weird and uncomfortable as it is to wait, Hermione also knows that Ginny will come around. In time. Ginny’s picked a good opportunity to have this conversation; Harry and Ron are both at Andromeda’s, taking care of some yard work that Andromeda has left unattended since Teddy’s started teething.

Hermione doesn’t envy that — any part of that. She thinks Teddy’s adorable, of course… but he’s also an enormous, life-changing responsibility. The thought of dealing with one of those at 18 years old is something that makes Hermione grateful she’s been well-versed in contraception since she’d entered puberty. She shudders and takes a draw from the steaming mug in front of her, thankful she won’t have to deal with that for eons and eons.

Now that Hermione’s thinking about how smart it was to be prepared (and to have those early conversations with her boyfriend), she can’t think about anything else — and before she’s realized it, she’s spent several long minutes lingering in a fog of her own smugness.

But then, with all the emotional intuition of an actual little sister, Ginny blurts out three words… and in doing so, she both reads Hermione’s mind. And scares her to death.

“Harry wants babies.”

…what the effing…

Hermione chokes and sputters, trying not to spray hot tea across the table. And she’s not quiet about it. She coughs and clears her throat as she stumbles to get a towel to mop up the mess, but all the while Ginny remains in her seat, staring almost catatonically at the table in front of her.

“Merlin!” Hermione exclaims, returning to her chair. She gives Ginny a frustrated sigh. “Please don’t tell me something like that right as I’m drink—”

“With me,” Ginny adds, her voice small.

Oh.

Hermione observes Ginny’s flushed complexion, her wide-eyed disbelief… and that’s when she realizes how much it’s taken for that to have been shared. If Ginny (of all people) has disregarded conversational norms and forgotten to apologize and focused only on herself, she must be going through something significant. Hermione stiffens and suppresses a grimace; she just hopes she isn’t going through it — isn’t going through that — at this very moment…

There’s a pause, and Hermione’s hand cautiously inches towards her mug again. She’s about to raise it to her mouth when Ginny makes eye contact with her from across the table — and then, just as quickly, Hermione scurries to put the mug back down, bracing her palms on the wood.

“He wants me to have his babies,” Ginny whispers, oblivious.

Hermione tamps down the urge to reassure her that yeah, she’d gotten that the first time ‘round — and she’s immediately glad for her newfound sense of impulse control. It’s clear that (apparently) this is something Ginny hasn’t quite come to terms with.

As soon as the words leave Ginny’s mouth, her brown eyes turn skyward as she lets out a slow breath through her parted lips. Hermione recognizes that look better than anyone: She’s trying to keep herself under control.

It’s the look of someone who is really, truly happy…

Hermione gulps and looks away, overcome with the same unrelenting barrage of emotions she’s felt since the second of May. She thinks about the first night she’d spent next to Ron. Or the first time he’d confessed he’d loved her. Or the first time they’d — She clears her throat and blushes, grateful that Ginny’s too consumed right now to put her keen observational skills to use.

When Hermione lifts her head to look across the table several moments later, it’s clear that Ginny’s had some sort of epiphany in the time she’s spent fantasizing about her brother. Hermione only feels marginally guilty about this, though, seeing as how she and Ron are properly together now. She sniffs, sitting up straighter; she has the right to fantasize about her own boyfriend, doesn’t she?

Fortunately, though, Ginny’s still beaming from ear-to-ear, her expression joyous and vacant — and Hermione reckons that she and Ron could have been shagging on the table and Ginny still wouldn’t have noticed. Then Hermione’s face turns even redder, because she and Ron have done, actually, but now all she can see is Harry and Ginny doing it here too, and is it just her or does the table suddenly seem… sticky?

Hermione’s hands fly to her lap. Nope. Not going there. Ignorance is bliss. Time to think about something — anything — else.

“I erm… I didn’t really know you wanted children,” she offers, hoping that’s enough of a distraction.

Ginny sighs, gripping her mug. “In general, I don’t.” She takes a sip. “I haven’t ever, not with anyone else. But when I think about Harry and him being a dad and…” She sets her mug down, that same bashful smile on her lips.

“It’s different,” Ginny finishes after a pause. “It’s… a lot different.”

Hermione smiles back, her cheeks flushing — because that, too, is something she understands. She’d never once thought about having children with Viktor. Or McClaggen. Or any of the boys with whom she might have shared a passing fancy. But she thinks about Ron cooing over a frizzy ginger-haired baby (or perhaps a child with no biological connection to them at all, so long as they raise it together), something shifts in her stomach, too.

Now Hermione’s eyes feel rather misty, so she’s thankful Ginny chooses that precise moment to start speaking again.

“I just… I never thought I’d—”

“—Be this happy?” Hermione supplies — and she finally, finally deems it safe enough to attempt another sip… but avoids touching the table as she does.

Ginny shakes her head and bites her lip. “More like…” She traces her finger along the edge of the table. “More like… I never thought I’d actually be with him. In every way I want to be. Even if I don’t want kids anytime soon — not for years and years, not until I’m done playing quidditch and Harry’s established at the Ministry and…”

Ginny shifts uncomfortably in her seat, but Hermione fills in the blanks; she often feels the same way… like she’s afraid to be hopeful. Like she’s afraid some dark force will rip away everything they’ve worked so hard to achieve.

Hermione’s feels an unexpected sense of regret that she’s not close enough to give her friend a reassuring hug.

But then Hermione remembers that Ginny is the one who provides comfort like that… and she’s not sure what to do with that, either. Rather dwelling on those competing feelings, she instead opts for an abrupt subject change.

“So,” Hermione ventures, clearing her throat; she has to be sure. “You’re definitely not—?”

“NO!” Ginny cuts her off, her eyes wide in terror.

They heave mutual sighs of relief, and Hermione pats herself on the back for the rather extensive (albeit detached and mechanical) discussion she’d forced everyone to sit through earlier this summer.

Then there’s another pause — and Hermione knows she and Ginny are having the same thoughts… because this discussion has broached a new level of familiarity. Sex is something new, something the two of them have talked about little, aside from the mutual-but-awkward understanding that it’s happening. They’d each confessed to as much after she and Ron and returned from Australia, and that conversation with Ginny had been Hermione’s first real foray into dueling feelings of disgust (because bleh) and happiness (because aw).

But there’s one final piece of the puzzle Hermione is dying to know — if for no other reason than to judge the quality of Harry’s people skills. And to assess why Ginny hadn’t turned on the spot and run away.

Hermione clears her throat. “So… how did he tell you?”

Ginny gives a distant smile to the far wall. “Teddy transformed to look like him,” she admits. “And then Harry got all weird and ran to the loo, so I asked him, later… and I think I played it off, but Merlin, give a girl some bloody warning!” She rolls her eyes and sighs again, but if she’s actually trying to look exasperated, she isn’t doing it well.

Hermione snorts. Ginny’s rather thick for someone so perceptive. Any fool could’ve told you how much Harry loves Teddy; it’s only logical to assume he’d want his own, one day.

“So… I reckon you’d already gathered Harry wants kids. With me.” Ginny’s cheeks turn pink as she averts her eyes, clearly embarrassed to be the oblivious one, for once.

Hermione gives her a kind nod. She’d thought that much was obvious, but Ginny’s always had a particular weak spot where Harry’s concerned. Of course, the notion that she, herself, has a similar blind spot for Ron isn’t something she wants to consider much. Not when she feels she’s made such growth in perceptiveness.

So she doesn’t.

“Well,” Hermione sniffs, rising to take her mug to the sink. “I suppose I’ll be very happy for the two of you. One day. And,” she adds, raising a finger in forewarning, “I don’t reckon this celebration will need to occur anytime soon, provided you and Harry continue to make safe choices.”

With that, Hermione turns to leave the kitchen, a smug look on her face — and in retrospect, this, right here is her fatal flaw. On top of everything else, she has the nerve to congratulate herself on how well she’s handled that… on how she’s actually quite astute, after all…

Hermione reckons her condescending smile it really what turns the tide; the second Ginny catches sight of that, it’s all over.

It’s so, so over.

Because as Hermione steps into the living room, she hears something that freezes her in her tracks.

“Yes,” Ginny agrees, her tone dripping with false innocence, “because I reckon no one could make a safer choice than shagging my brother. On the kitchen table.”

There’s a beat… and a split-second later, Ginny erupts into cackles.

Oh for the love of—

Hermione’s back stiffens as she flushes crimson from the roots of her hair down to her toes, more mortified than she’s been in her entire life. And all the while, Ginny howls and howls from behind her, making absolutely no attempt to disguise her delight.

Hermione summons the remaining shards of her dignity and takes a tentative step towards the stairs, but Ginny has nonetheless made her point.

Safety, it seems, is a very subjective word.

#hinny #harry potter #harry and ginny #hinny fanfic #tumblr asks #romione

119 notes · View notes

bloodyfeverdreams · 5 years ago

Text

Whumptober Prompt #30- Recovery

........................... This is a bit embarrassing. So I wrote today, but because I’m super fucking weird I ended up writing for a fandom I’ve never written before and I’m not saying it’s a bad story but it was suuuuuuuuper embarrassing to write. It’s not a bad story, I think I did okay, but honestly, if I didn’t need to I probably wouldn’t post it. So, everyone do me a favor? Skip this one. If you insist on feeding my everlasting blush for today, here’s some... lazytown

...

Waking up from a sugar meltdown was not how he expected this day to go. Coming out of them always made him frightened and sluggish. He hated not being in control of his own body, unable to control what happened to him while he was unconscious. He could feel someone holding his hand, trying to force what tasted like an apple into his mouth. He bit down, and a small bit of energy immediately flowed through his body.

“That’s it, Sportasweet, you can do it.” A comforting voice soothed some of his anxiety away. He knew that voice.

His eyelashes fluttered, trying to get the world back into focus. He took another bite of the apple. More energy flowed through him, attacking the sugar poisoning his system.

Robbie eventually came back into focus, wearing a worried expression.

“What happened?” Sportacus tried to ask around the apple.

Robbie smiled in relief. “You scared me, that’s what happened.”

Sportacus frowned, and tried to sit up. Robbie helped him to the orange fuzzy chair.

“Why was there a sugar apple in the kitchen?” Sportacus asked, his voice on edge.

Robbie flinched. He knew how Sportacus felt about meltdowns, he’d told the Fae when they first got together, and Sportacus was too tired to filter his emotions.

“We wanted to surprise you.” Robbie saud, not meeting his eye.

“We?” Sportacus snapped, using what little strength he had to scoot away from Robbie.

“The children and I!” Robbie said, putting his hands up. “For your birthday.”

Sportacus stopped. “My birthday isn’t for another month.”

“We know.” Robbie sighed. “But Pinkie came up with an idea that the whole town ended up getting involved in. Even Sticky Fingers parents! She’s been working on a script for a play, a play about you and how much we love you. Pinkie is going to be you, and I am of course playing myself, so I thought it should be accurate. I made her a sugar apple that tastes like caramel, I’m pretty sure that’s her favorite. That way she could enjoy a pretend sugar meltdown, I know you can’t but I thought I might try for her.”

The anger flooded out of Sportacus’s system and left fondness with a smudge of guilt. Robbie has long abandoned the sentiment of sending him away forever, mostly only keeping his schemes up for fun. He should’ve trusted the man he said he loved.

“Oh Robbie.”

Robbie grimaced. “I’m sorry Sportacus. I thought I was home alone today. I should’ve been more careful about leaving out convincing sugar apples when apples never last longer than three seconds around you.”

“It was an honest mistake.” Sportacus said. “No need to be upset about it.”

Robbie managed a small but genuine smile. “Damn flippity elf. Always so self-sacrificing.”

Sportacus smiled right back. “Silly Fae. Always so willing to blame himself for everything.”

Robbie snickered.

“Come on, you flippy-floppy menace, let’s get you some bleh sportscandy.”

Robbie handed Sportacus the rest of the apple, which Sportacus devoured quickly. But the signature flood of energy didn’t come. That was strange.

Robbie returned with another apple. “Sportacus?”

“What was in that apple?” Sportacus asked hesitantly.

“Um, sugar, obviously,” Robbie frowned, noticing that Sportacus was not jumping up as he always did after a sugar apple “caramel, chocolate to soften it up so she can bite it, marshmallow syrup to hold it all together, and assorted taffy to make it the correct color. Why?”

Sportacus took the apple from Robbie’s outstretched hand, and devoured that one quickly too. He felt a little better but still, it wasn’t enough.

“Sportacus, why aren’t you flipping around my lair like you usually do?” Robbie asked, fear seeping into his voice.

“I’m not sure.” Sportacus murmured.

“What did you do today?” Robbie asked. “I know you and Pinkie were going to train today, for her Eleven stuff. I know you ate breakfast with me. What did you have for lunch?”

Sportacus opened his mouth, blushed and closed it.

“Sportaidiot.” Robbie grumbled. “You skipped lunch? The one who’s always ranting and raving about three square meals a day missed lunch?”

Sportacus blushed harder. “I might have gotten a little too involved with Stephanie’s training today. Time just flew by, she’s progressed so far. And then I sent her home to eat, thinking I would just do the same here and then I saw that apple and thought it would be a good way to replenish my energy before cooking.”

Robbie sighed. “Stupid elf. Stupid me for leaving it out.”

“We’re both fools.” Sportacus said. “I should’ve felt a difference in the weight of an apple, I should know what your sugar apples feel like. Honestly the fact that I didn’t notice sooner doesn’t reflect well on me as a Hero.”

“Let me get you to my chair, you second-rate Hero.” Robbie’s voice was teasing but his hands were gentle. He knew Robbie had problems with the Heroes and how the whole operation worked but Sportacus didn’t mind much. Robbie didn’t want him to stop being himself and that was all that mattered.

Robbie, more than likely using a bit of magic, lifted the elf into his arms and carried him over to the big, orange, fuzzy chair Robbie adored. Robbie set him down gently and easily removed Sportacus’s hat, letting his ears relax. He always kept them so tight when around the children, knowing they weren’t ready for the truth of their worlds. Even the half-elf Stephanie didn’t know her true parentage. Illusions, spells, elves, fairies, and the world of magic stayed away from humans for a reason. It felt good to finally relax.

“You coming down with something?” Robbie murmured, feeling Sportacus’s forehead. “That may explain why you didn’t eat lunch, I know you don’t eat much when you’re sick.”

“I don’t think so.” Sportacus replied. “I think I just need some rest.”

“All right, but you should still take eat some lavender plants to give you a boost.” Robbie walked back to the kitchen, gesturing to the small garden that now resided above the lair. Sportacus grew all sorts of flowers there, both to help in his magic and be beautiful, and he grew a lot of lavender because of its coloring and usage in healing spells.

“After a nap, I will.” Sportacus agreed.

Robbie returned with a damp washcloth and set it on Sportacus’s forehead.

“There, now you’re totally immobilized.” Robbie smirked, the routine of taking care of each other and the game they still played blending together perfectly. “You can’t escape me.”

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” Sportacus yawned. The sugar was definitely catching up to him. “Looks like I’ll have to wait here with my boyfriend until I can be rescued.”

“I have work to do, ya know?” Robbie chuckled.

“I’m afraid I don’t care too much right now.” Sportacus said, reaching for Robbie’s hand with his own.

Robbie allowed himself to be dragged onto the fuzzy chair and snuggled up to Sportacus, spooning him with ease.

“The things I do for you, you crazy elf.” Robbie muttered into his ear.

Sportacus simply snuggled into Robbie further. Sleep was not far off for either of them.

#whumptober2019 #no.30 #no. 30 #recovery #lazytown #sportacus #robbie rotten #don't read this #please #it's so embarrassing #i don't even know why i wrote it #it just happened #i'm an idiot

14 notes · View notes

kaesaaurelia · 5 years ago

Text

greedy and gloomy-hearted

For @whumptober2019 day 28: beaten.

Continuation of day 18 (muffled scream), day 21 (laced drink), and day 27 (ransom).

Content warning for gore, light cannibalism, and implied body horror.

Aziraphale vs Grendel’s mother (who is a demon OC); A/C undertones but Crowley’s still unconscious. Mostly this part is just Aziraphale fighting an angry monster who used to be his coworker and wants to rant about Gabriel and livers.

Nisroc stood in his way. Her right eye was useless for now, burnt out by the sword. "No! You can leave him, or you can do me that favor, or I can beat the shit out of you. Which is it gonna be?"

"Get out of the way, Nisroc," said Aziraphale. "I fought in the War; you didn't." Admittedly, much of his contribution had involved standing in a somewhat disused corridor whacking any rebel angels who tried to get past him in the head with a T-square he'd picked up when the fighting started, but he'd been pretty handy with the T-square when it came down to it. He'd been defending the designs to all of life on what would be Earth; it was important to him.

"I was busy!" said Nisroc. She lashed out with a claw, and he was knocked away from Crowley and onto the floor. "Don't you dare imply I'm a coward, I got enough of that Up There. Fucking Gabriel had me redesigning human digestive systems fifty-seven times, it's not my fault I missed the whole thing."

He began to stagger to his feet, but Nisroc was closing in on him. "And then he rejected all my improvements anyway, the asshole. So don't give me that war shit." She tried to claw at his face, but he brought his sword up against her claw, then ducked under her foreleg and made it back to where Crowley lay.

He was trying to carry Crowley away again when a pain in his shoulder made him cry out in pain. Clutching him in her beak, Nisroc lifted him off the ground and shook him back and forth, and he fluttered his wings involuntarily, trying to escape. Then he brought the pommel of the sword down onto the top of her beak, and she dropped him with a shout. She leapt on him again, but once more, misjudged the distance, and he left a long gash along her ribs as he escaped once more.

Nisroc crouched low to the ground, cornering him against a wall. "Still willing to make that deal if you'd rather stop fighting. Or I can let you go on your own."

"Nisroc, I cannot get your son into Heaven," said Aziraphale, frustrated and angry and exhausted. "What do you even want with Crowley? I warn you, he's very annoying."

Nisroc pinned him down with one enormous clawed foreleg before he could move away. "Should I just keep you and let him go? Is that what you're saying?" She tilted her head. "That could work too."

"No, I'm -- for Heaven's sake let me go, you ridiculous --" She squeezed, her claws digging into him, and he yelped. He swung the sword uselessly against the scales of her foreleg, and she winced but didn't let him go.

"Honestly, you're pretty annoying too, I'm having a tough time deciding. There's more meat on you, but Heaven might worry if you went missing." She tilted her head the other way. "Then again, they might not."

"You can't eat either of us!" said Aziraphale, who was now simply trying to lever her claws off of him with the sword. "That's -- that's cannibalism."

"Is it? I mean, it is if it's him, I guess," she said, nodding at Crowley. "But you're an angel, and I'm not, not anymore. And Grendel's only half." She looked down at his work with the sword, irritably. "Ugh, stop that before you hurt yourself. That's my job." She bit his hand -- it was excruciating -- and he dropped the sword. She nudged it away with her beak, then appeared to swallow something. "Bleh. Fingers are definitely too bony for my taste, though."

Aziraphale held his hand in front of his face, and realized she'd bitten off two of his fingers. "You can't -- you can't just --" She coughed his signet ring up onto his chest. "You let me go at once!" he shouted. "When you discorporate me and I get back to Heaven, I'll, I'll -- they'll send more people after you!"

Nisroc laughed. "No, no, no, you're not going to discorporate. I won't let that happen. I can probably stretch out the meat with stew -- stew's great for that -- and you'd be surprised how much of your body you can survive without before I make you heal yourself up! Which is something humans certainly can't do."

Aziraphale looked at the sword out of the corner of his eye. It was probably still within grabbing distance, and the way she was standing now he could probably stab her in the neck.

Nisroc was still talking, which was ideal. "And hey! Parts of it even grow back by design, like livers! Those were my best work, you know, livers. You can blame Gabriel for the stuff that doesn't -- but livers? Good, dependable organ. Anyway, isn't eating someone who can do healing miracles more ethical than eating humans? Nobody has to die and Grendel stays fed!"

Aziraphale liked a healthy philosophical argument -- which was to say, an argument he won. He decided if he was going to win this one he'd better get that sword back in a hurry. He turned to look at Crowley, still tied up, still motionless. "Oh, Crowley! Thank goodness!" he said, as if Crowley were awake and also somehow useful in this situation.

He grabbed the sword as Nisroc turned, and swung it against the side of her neck. "Aah! Bastard!" she cried, and he scrambled back as she tried to grab him again. He couldn't reach her neck any longer, but once he was on his feet he slid the blade between her shoulder and her foreleg, leaving her shrieking in pain for a few moments. He grabbed his signet ring, still sticky from blood and birdspit, and slid it onto his other pinky, as Nisroc was hobbling around trying to regain balance.

She was enraged now, and still half-blind, and she couldn't use her claws to swipe at him without losing her balance, so it was easy enough to stay on her left and avoid her beak. He let her chase him around in a circle, finding his way back to Crowley the long way around, and when he did, he stood in front of Crowley, spread his wings, and placed a simple blessing upon everything in front of him.

Nisroc collapsed and shrank back into her humanoid form. She looked like she'd been attacked by wolves, or a madman. She struggled to sit up. "You fucker," she said. "That hurt."

"Good," said Aziraphale. He put away his wings and hauled Crowley up onto his shoulder. "I wish I could say it was nice to see you again, but your hospitality leaves much to be desired, Nisroc."

"Well you're terrible guests!" shouted Nisroc from the floor.

"Thank you!" he said, brightly. He trudged to the doorway, carrying Crowley, and found that Nisroc's house was built in the midst of a great swamp. There did not appear to be any dry footpath out, and flying while carrying Crowley was more than he could manage just now, having only just blessed Nisroc so thoroughly. He supposed there was nothing for it but to wade through, so he transformed his stolen sword into a long walking stick, and began feeling his way through the swamp.

#good omens #aziraphale #whumptober2019 #no.28 #cw gore #cw cannibalism #cw body horror #text #fiction #kaesa op #my ocs

9 notes · View notes

wildflower8281 · 5 years ago

Text

The Hum of Life

This video and blog are my Ode to Movement, an Exhale of Gratitude and Joy for all it has been in my life.

I share things in my blog and videos that have helped me to feel good, expand myself or grow in a positive way. Movement has thankfully been a companion of mine since childhood (Thanks, Mom & Dad) and how I engage with it has evolved with me. I share about it here because I desire that everyone feels amazing and knows that they have access to these tools (movement & breath) at any time, no matter age, experience or body type/shape. And for those who already move regularly, I invite you into a new way of engaging with movement & your body.

This is not about yoga, or ‘working out’...this is a more present, accessible and connected way to involve Movement into our lives.

I am here to share that even if you are “not somebody who works out”

“has never exercised in my life”

or says that “exercise is hard, it’s not for me” -

Your Body will feel Happier, More Amazing if you choose to move it consciously on a regular basis. And this Movement has infinite options and forms, so no one is left out!

Additionally, if you are in the fitness & exercise scene already and have your routines down, then I propose here some thoughts to widen your horizons, deepen your awareness and harness that power you already know you have into something even beyond the physical realm!

If you ever feel stuck, bleh, lost, uninspired, sad - I will bet money that 90% of the time, if you add some movement into your situation on a regular basis, you will shake out those feelings and truly feel higher vibe and happier. Like, I will put my legit cash on that bet and will win 9x out of 10.

But it takes a conscious & continual choice to create that new high vibe habit, until it settles into your brain and life as simply being a part of you are.

“Movement” is amazingly modifiable and does not fit into a box or a label. I am not here to make everyone into someone who “exercises�� or “works out.” That is far from my intention.

My intention is that we all have means of raising our vibration, or in other words, feeling awesome, feeling amazing, at our fingertips. Feeling amazing does not have to come from outside of us! One of the ways we can simply do this is by consciously choosing a form (or forms) of movement we enjoy on a regular basis.

Examples:

If all you do is breath in, raise your arms up, breath out and move your hands back down. You will feel better than if you did not do that.

If all you can muster is a 5 minute walk, you will feel better having taken the walk than if you had not.

Actually, if all you do is consciously breathe deeply into your belly for a few minutes, paying attention to the movement of your body as you breathe, breathing fully into your belly and exhaling fully - you will feel amazing and want to try it again!

Injured? Bad back? Stiff joints? That’s ok! I’ve had my fair share of pulled muscles, sprains, aches & pains. Due to my love of movement, I have found creative ways to still move other parts or adjust. There is always a modified version of many things and, again, if nothing else, belly breathe!

Movement is an Automatic Feel Good in so many ways & is very accessible because it is so diverse and can be as simple as breathing.

If you move enough to get your heart rate up, to get your blood pumping, sweating even a bit - your body will even create endorphins to increase the feeling of amazingness. Because your body is happy to be working and moving the energy around!

Feng Shui for Your Body! Just like other spaces - your house, your office, your room - your body can house stagnant energy. And just like it feels fabulous to spring clean, get rid of junk, dust, switch things around, open the windows and let in fresh air - so does it feel fabulous to swirl around the energy inside your body via all and any kinds of movement, and inhale deeply to welcome in new energy!

You can feel the freshness even just by taking one long slow inhale and exhale. In just that, you can feel the movement and freshness in your body.

Movement vs. Exercise

I deliberately say “Movement” as opposed to “exercise” or “working out” because for me, incorporating movement into each day is a creative engagement with my body, mind and spirit. It’s never just - “I need to get my workout in” - although it has been in the past.

These days, I have a continual conversation going on with my body, always tuning in and listening to what we are feeling, what we need and where we would like to arrive to. As a woman, this often coincides with my cycle and depending on the day or week, I may feel bunches of energy or desire just very gentle movement.

Each day looks different. Some days it’s yoga, other days it’s a walk, other days it’s a leg day with dumbells and jump squats until I am out of breath and wringing wet. Some days, it’s just stretching and breathing. Many days, it’s dancing to songs that make me happy. But truly, there is no recipe I follow, except listening, breathing and moving the energy in my body around and through. To me, that makes it a fun thing each day - celebratory, ever-new, ever-present. Because our bodies are ever new and ever present!

The Hum of Life

We are all energy. It’s science. The energy in our bodies can get stagnant. We breathe very shallow during most of the day, not even inhaling deeply, fully…

Take a truly full inhale right now, through your nose. Deep down into your belly, fill up your chest. Pause and feel the buzz.

Exhale it all fully, calmly, through your mouth, until your belly button is pressed into your abdomen.

That is moving your Energy!

Energy. Chi. Prana. Breath. Spirit.

It’s all the same to me. It’s that Aliveness inside of us, the buzz, the hum of Life that flows through our blood, pumps our heart, opens our lungs, sings into our voice and feels through our skin.

When we do not move it, it gets stagnant and we feel stagnant or blah, or yuck.

Heavy, sticky, uninspired.

Sad, bored, anxious.

To consciously choose to move our energy each day is to consciously choose to feel good & assent that feeling good is within the power of each of us.

Movement is here for us.

Movement heals us.

Movement raises us.

Movement is ever-present to us, always there, anytime we wish to step into that space & listen.

There are many tools that help us to feel good in an organic, healthy way and

Movement is one of the simplest forms,

one that is vastly accessible

and also entertainingly diverse!

Alive, Awesome & Happy Dwell Within Us

Society & the stories out there like to make us think that everything needed to make us feel Alive, Awesome, Sexy, Happy is outside of us. It’s in the thing, the job, the medicine, the clothes.

When actually, it’s within us all along.

In the easy inhale.

In the relaxing exhale.

In the happy cells humming along through your body.

What we do with that energy is within our power and we can do it every day and discover that being happy, feeling amazing is right here all along.

Happy Moving & Happy Day to you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Photos: Unsplash)

2 notes · View notes