#it's that time of my life where i wanna crawl back into my mother's womb <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[stemacademics]

an update:

I sprained my back last night and my tummy ache got worse today. is still hurting. and I fretted (Intensely) over my premajor decision. later things cleared up in my head. it got better in the evening. I have come to the conclusion that my brain simply loves to regularly hurl me into a chasm of greatly unhealthy turmoil and panic. and I studied math (power series, converging limits etc) for for like an hour today. I also helped my younger brother with his math test tomorrow.

[raffe156]

You Broken?

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - Angst, haha this is where it all starts an the story behind the matching scars. 

A/N - This is based around the first games missions it all kicks off haha so before Ghost and Soap so it's just MC, Kyle, Price, Farah and Alex in this one. No smut things are implied but nothing nsfw haha

ULF - Urzikstan Liberation Force

Laswell is a bit of a bitch in this game also telling John no a lot of time, like really give the man his airstrike woman or I will! 

Going to be slowly nudging this story line into my Mc codename “Tank” I know its not sexy etc but who cares these days! It’s based around my Name being Tiger and the Tiger Tank was one of the most feared Tanks during WW2 nearly unstoppable, but it wasn’t without its flaws and needed constant maintenance (Don’t we all) so yeh it's a bit long, but as always comments and feedback welcome

Warnings - Angst. Language, Age gap Price (39) reader (25), Mutual Pining, Violence, Weapons war/fighting stuff basically, Fluff

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters- Only Tank

Sakhra, Uzikstan, Embassy Compound armory

“I think I’m missing an ammo pack?… You got a spare Tank?” - Kyle asked patting himself down, you removed one ammo pack and handed it to him.

“It probably went missing when you two fell out the Helo”- Price grumbled. You looked at him in disbelief. He continued to pack hits kit.

“When we fell out? You fell out first? It was hit…I just about got my rappel connected!” - You tried to control your temper, but he wasn’t listening to you just continued to pack and plan. Something was wrong; you could feel it in your gut. Was he mad that you didn’t act fast enough to connect to the line or that Kyle risked his life by pulling you onto his as the helicopter spun out? You didn't know, but what you did know was that you would go mad before you knew why…

Price knew he was being harsh, but he was annoyed more so at himself than you, he knew he should have double-checked you were connected in, but you always snapped at him when he did. “You don't check Kyle!” He heard it ring in his ears.

He should have just checked and taken the tongue-lashing later. The one time he didn’t check was the time the helo gets hit by a strike…fuck he could have lost both of you…He zoned back in you were still banging around, packing your kit and loading your vest with flash-bangs. Price notices that one of your glow sticks has been damaged and is leaking green liquid down your pants, you must have touched it as you now have green marks all over your face. He could feel a slight smirk pull at his mouth. You snap your head up at him, oh if looks could kill he’d be dead and buried.

“What’s funny? You finally lost your mind old man?” - You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but you were mad. The old man hit him more than it should, but to you, he probably is an old man. He was 15 years your senior. He had already served a year in the army when you were fresh out of your mother's womb, but why did it hurt him to hear you say it out loud?

“Old man, eh?…” - he laughed, and you felt a shudder crawl up your spine and over your scalp. He was laughing at you, you thought.

“Yeh, old man! You are always on at me for this and that I don't even know what I've done wrong half the time! But that before, with the helo being shot down I didn't know I wasn't connected in right…you usually always double-check me…I was lucky that it held and Kyle gripped me to his!” - You slammed your fist on the desk, your eyes pricking slightly. Price looked incensed; his neck was red, his eyes boring into you. He was livid.

“YEH wanna know why I always check you're connected in right!? Coz I'm your fucking Captain and I don't know what I’d do if anything happened to you……” - Price was right in your face and as the words sunk he corrected himself.

“If anything happened to you or Kyle…I'm your Captain your BOTH my responsibility…whether you like it or not! I should have checked you were connected in, right that's on me” - He backed up, returning to his kit.

Why do you always get him like this? You were shocked at his admission, he's mad because he thinks it's his fault for not checking your line. You searched his face for more, the pit in your stomach pulling you in on yourself with guilt. The silence was broken by Alex handing you a tissue.

“You have glow stick on your face…”- He looked over at Price who was still looking over maps and his kit. You had almost forgotten about the three other people in the room, all three of them looking at you and Price. Your little domestic. Your Captain admitting he cares.

“Parents eh?” - Alex gave you a sympathetic look. Kyle laughed.

“The way these two bicker it's more like an old married couple…sometimes…” - He stopped as you shot him a dirty look. You tried to wipe the glow stick off your face but the tissue was rough and dry it wouldn’t budge.

“Here…use this to wet it, should come right off” - Price handed you a bottle of water. His tone was off, the pit sinking you in deeper.

“Thanks…” - You took it your fingers resting on his for a second too long, but he didn't pull away he simply looked at you, his eyes crinkling slightly with a small smile. You returned it. There, a silent “all forgiven, all forgotten” you had lost count of how many you two had shared.

—————————————————

Darus, Urzikstan

Price wasn't sure about you going with Alex and Farah to sit outpost on the Highway of Death as Farah had called it, he wanted you clearing house in the town with him where he could keep an eye on you. But Farah had reassured him she would keep you “safe” not that she thought you needed it, she took every opportunity to recruit you to the ULF, and Price answered for you every time with a “NO, Farah”, she still tried it though.

“I will keep her with me John no need to worry about your little Tank she is more than capable of looking after herself” - Farah patted the older man on the shoulder. She sensed something more but decided not to pry. He reluctantly let you go. He knew Farah was right; he didn't need to worry about you, so why did he? You waved at him from the back of the pickup, but before he could wave back, you had turned your head to Alex, laughing at something he had said. Smug git, he thought. Was he jealous?

“Boss, you ready? Wheels up in 2” - Kyle shouted over, Price made a mental note to ask you later what was so funny. Until then, he had to get his head in the game.

——————————————————

Highway of Death

You waved at Price. He hadn’t wanted you to go with Alex and Farah, and you knew why, You, him and Kyle worked well, effective as he put it, but you knew Farah needed your demolition skills with some of the charge rig ups so you volunteered. He wasn't happy about it but he couldn't exactly say no he had more than enough help with Kyle and Team Bravo. As you waved, Alex started laughing at you.

“You look like a kid on their first trip to summer camp saying bye to their parents!” - He was rolling up a cigarette, laughing as he licked it shut. You laughed at the thought, you turned to see if Price was waving back, but he had turned his back.

“He did wave back I saw him” - Farah patted your knee, she could see it comforted you to know. You smiled back at her.

“He is a good man, Tank. I trust him with my life…that is why I have promised to keep you safe and return you to him, as I fear if I do not, he will cut that life short” - She gently nudged you and you simply nodded with a smile.

“He’d say the same to you about Kyle, his other golden child” - You laugh, trying to ease the insinuation in her statement.

“Maybe you are right, but I don't think he sees you as his child. I think he sees you as something more” - Her words sink into you and she realizes she has completely fogged your mind.

“But what do I know eh? I’ve been out here fighting for my country don’t listen to me” - She put her hand out for Alex’s lit cigarette. Alex was just as confused as you and handed it over, blowing the smoke out his nose. You needed to think clearly. Price was just worried because this whole thing was a shit show and he was a man of habit. He liked you and Kyle at his side, that was all.

———————————————————

Things had gone south fast not only was Farah’s own brother the one who stole the Russian Gas but you were now dragging yourself to the bunker, the gas creeping into your lungs, choking you, ripping at your throat. Where was Price? He had radioed, saying he was 5 mins away. It was Alex that pulled you in pushing a Gas mask over your face it was useless some of the gas had already gotten in.

“Breathe Tank breathe…Shit!” - He was trying to keep you conscious while also trying to stay upright himself. You spotted Farah on the ground, and you gave Alex a look of panic.

“She’s fine…she breathing…your hyperventilating though you need to take slow deep breaths please or else Price will have my head on a stake…” - Alex guided you to take deep breaths with him, you tried but your body was fighting you with every intake of breath. Your hands balled up into fists on Alex’s chest, Fuck you were panicking, spiraling out of control where was Price? You couldn't get a handle on your breathing, your brain going static, you couldn't keep your eyes open, but then you noticed a shift in the light behind Alex. You felt yourself being pulled forward into someone’s body, the gas mask being ripped off, hands on either side of your face, the bump of a forehead hitting yours.

“Breath, for me please on my count 1…2…3…” - Price had you now guiding you back from the edge. With the few sharp breaths you took, you could smell him, Kerosene, cigars and warm sand…his presence guided you back, his blue eyes never leaving yours, your lungs were on fire but your breathing was somewhat back to normal, heart rate still high though Price could tell his hands slipped down to your pulse point.

“You broken? Had me worried there for a sec…” - He feigned a smile for you, but he was reeling inside. He still had you pressed forehead to forehead so you were a little blurry to him but he could see the relief in your eyes.

“No not broken…I'm good now your here…Thanks, Cap…”- Your voice burned but you needed to get the words out, you needed to tell him you were grateful, that you needed him, that you never wanted to leave his side again. But thanks, Cap was all you could manage.

He sat there with your for a few moments longer than needed, but he knew you needed it. He Promised himself he wasn't letting you go from his side again.

—————————————————————

Barkov’s Chemical Factory,

Borjomi, Georgia

You had pushed yourselves to the main pipeline and fought through heavy resistance, you were now here ready to plant the charges, you could taste the end, and you were where you need to be right next to your Captain, but it wasn't over, not yet, you stood watch over the stairwell that lead up to the location you had cleared house, but some stragglers always remain. You glanced over at Price. He was handing Kyle the remaining two charges. He clocked you looking over and winked.

******

Kyle had asked you back at base about your plans when the job was done. You had noticed Price listening in on your conversation.

“Don’t know might go see my family, not really thought about it, you?” - You were being truthful. You hadn’t thought about what you were going to do.

“You should head my way, your only a 3hr drive away…you could get the train or I could come pick you up…both of you…take you for a pint some lunch, get you two city kids out into the country haha” - Price didn't look over at you, instead, he inspected his zippo lighter it wouldn't spark, he also was regretting the invitation immediately why would they want to come spend time with him out in the sticks, when they both had families and friends to see maybe partners who missed them.

He knew Kyle was speaking to some girl from Essex, but he had never actually asked you if you had anyone and to be fair it wasn't his place to ask, who was he kidding, of course, you did he wasn't a fool he noticed how people acted around you…those poor Marines back at the US embassy,one of them dropped his radio at the sight of you, when you picked it up and handed it to him flashing a smile, your best smile Price half expected the Marines head to fall off!

Of course you had someone.

“Yeh ok, I’d like that actually, will have to look at train times…but I'm up for that” - You meant it. Price was stunned.

“Yeh we should make a weekend of it Boss, sure you’ve got a spare room, if not me and you can top and tail and Tank can take the couch!” - Kyle was laughing at the thought.

“Or you two can take the couch I'll have the Captain's bed!”- you were mocking Kyle's laugh. It was a four-bed house but the image of you in his bed flashed across Price’s mind. You tangled up in his sheets, messy hair, sleepy eyes, a croaky “Good mornin” and that little half smile you give when you haven’t had enough kip. He blinked it away but stored it for later.

“What about that girl your seeing from Essex?” - the question was loaded. Price hoped it got him the answer he wanted from you.

“Nah she’ll be ok…what about you? you got anyone waiting by the window?” - Kyle looked over at you smirking. He knew the answer was No.

“Very funny Kyle…but no the only person waiting for me by the window will be the family dog!” - You threw your gloves at him. Price was shocked you were single, He didn't have chance to comment as you and Kyle where now planning the entire weekend at his place between you.

“Wait, did you say you would drive up to get us? I'm down south?…” - Kyle was doing the miles in his head.

“Well then you can get the train Garrick, I'm only up the road” - You glanced over at Price who was just happy you were both up for it.

“You two sort it out amongst yourselves, I'm only picking one of you up and if I'm honest Kyle I think it's not gonna be you!” - Price chuckled. His lighter finally sparked to life. He heard your little laugh at the small victory.

“Yeh nice one boss, good luck with a 3-hour road trip with this one, I bet you £20 you leave her on the hard shoulder of the M60 after 1 hour” - Kyle was smirking at you now.

“Nice try, Kyle, I'm a fantastic road trip partner, don’t worry, Boss I've got better taste in music than Kyle and better snack options. You won't regret your choice” - You saluted him laughing, giving him your best smile.

“Well, as long as you don't get car sick and don't mind me smoking in the car, we are good” - He saluted you back and winked. It made your heart skip a beat. You were looking forward to it. You really were.

******

“Nearly finished over here Tank” - Price walked over to you, you had your back to him. He was about 2 feet away when he saw the glint in the distance then the red dot on his chest. Before he could react, you had reached back to shove him out of the way, the bullet ripped through your chest and into his shoulder. As he fell back, he tried to reach out to you to pull you down and into him, but you had fallen to the left.

“NO NO NO TANK! KYLE GET DOWN! WATCHER 1 WE NEED EVAC NOW! SNIPER…NORTH EAST…TANK IS DOWN I REPEAT TANK IS DOWN!” - Price was shouting down the comms, Kyle took cover behind one of the vents, he aimed with his Uzi, bang.

“Sniper down, Captain…We need to move, charges are set…” - Kyle made his way over, Price was already up on his feet, making his way to you, his right arm stiff and refusing to cooperate, but it didn't stop him from pulling you up and into him. What had you done, you stupid girl?

“Kate, we need immediate evac, Tank is down,  unconscious…I can't…” - Price was almost pleading with Laswell.

“…No can do John, can't get a bird in the air near those charges…can't risk it…you need to get her down to base level we’ll have medic evac waiting…I'm sorry, John” - Kyle could hear the regret in her voice and felt the anger and desperation rolling off Price.

”FUCK……Speak to me Tank…please…can you hear me?” - He was desperately searching for an answer from you any sign you could hear him. He had all but forgotten his own wound instead looking over your shoulder a clean shot, good that would heal ok. Kyle applied pressure to it for him, he touched the back of your head it was damp and sticky. Shit.

You felt cold, numb, but suddenly you felt an immense pressure on your body, you were moving, there the pressure was coming from your chest and head, you were being held tight to someone, you tried to flutter your eyes open a flash of blue, then white then back to black. The smell of Gun oil and tobacco filled your nose. Price. He was close, did he have hold of you? Was he ok?

“Kid, please open your eyes again…look at me…we are getting you back to base I just need you to tell me you can hear me…I promise you're going to be ok I'm going to make sure of it…” - His voice was strained. You remember what happened now…you noticed the shooter seen the red dot and that it wasn't on you. You knew Price was standing behind you, it was on him the shot was meant for him. You didn't even think. You just shoved him out of the way. You could hear Kyle, his voice was soft, but he wasn't talking to you. He was talking to Price, reassuring him, consoling him.

“Cap, we need to get her moved, these charges need to go off also, your bleeding a lot boss���Tank would kill me if she woke up only to find out I’d let you bleed out…” - Kyle patted him on the back, helping him move you into Kyle’s arms.

“Easy with her Kyle…We’re getting you out of here kid…I won't let anything happen to you…I promise…” -Price squeezed your hand his face lighting up when your squeezed it back.

“I know…Cap…does this mean…I get your bed…when we come round?” - You gave him a weak smile. It was all he needed.

“Kid if you make it out of this and back to me you can have the whole house” - Price let out a sigh of relief only letting go of your hand when Kyle turned to make his way down the stairs with you. Price followed.

——————————————————

Base camp Med wing, Urzikstan

Price hadn’t left your side, Kyle had to force him to get his shoulder seen to, but he insisted they check him over in the same room as you stating it would be easier and less combative. Price never took his eyes off your monitor.

“She’s going to be fine Captain Price, a full recovery, bright young thing like her she will bounce right back…you are more than welcome to stay here with her but she is heavily sedated” - The Doctor gave you the once over before leaving Price.

He adjusted the sling his right arm was in, he would wear it till you woke up, he knew you would go mad if he didn't. Price looked at your face, you looked so small in the bed. You were covered in wires. The sooner you were out the better, he thought, he ran his hand over his beard. He knew you were sedated and probably on another planet, but he still spoke to you as if you could hear him.

“I know this great little pub up in the hills near me, cracking views I know you're going to love it kid…” - Price smiled, he leaned over you kissing the top of your head. He sat himself down in the chair by your bedside, pulling his hat down over his eyes. 5 mins he’ll give himself then he’ll check on you again. He could rest easy knowing you were where you belonged at his side.

[vapcrwaves]

━♡ guess the 24 YEAR OLD JULY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because AOKI IMOJEN is just as BLAZING as the month of JULY. wait, why do they remind me of HIRAI MOMO? beyond that, they seemed SELF-RELIANT & BUOYANT upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of INSURGENT & RECKLESS though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 3 / APARTMENT # 2 / FLOOR # 2 ; they seem to have a lot going on with HER job as TATTOO ARTIST / BASSIST. 

bonjour , y’all !! my name’s jade ( she/her , twenty-one , gmt+8 ) !! and i’m super excited to meet and write with everyone !! this is my spunky kid , imojen , and i hope you’ll come to enjoy her as much as i did writing everything about her :D if you wanna plot , do not fret because i’ll be dropping in everyone’s IMs hehe , but if you prefer to plot over at discord , don’t hesitate to tell me !! <3 

*   𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊   ╱  ʙᴀꜱɪᴄꜱ   .

name  :  aoki imojen  nicknames  :  yoki , jen . age  :  twenty - four . birthday  :  july 27 , 1996 . zodiac  :  leo sun , aquarius moon , sagittarius rising . place of birth  :  tokyo , japan . currently living  :  seoul , south korea . occupation  :  tattoo artist , bassist . pronouns  :  she / her . orientation  :  bisexual biromantic . ethnicity  :  japanese .  spoken languages  :   japanese , korean , english .  character insp.  :  kat stratford from 10 things i hate about you , bridget vreeland from sisterhood of traveling pants , effy stonem from skins uk , young carol rhodes from gossip girl tv series , rhonda smith , mia’s backstory from if i stay . label  /  tropes  :  hoyden , icarian , insurgent , reveller , the rebellious spirit . pinterest  :  here .  aesthetics  :   scared of commitment , but has 7 tattoos. a habit of endlessly lighting a lighter. platform boots to boost your height. but then again, sneakers for comfort while running from the cops. forgetting to discard empty cigarette packets from your bomber jacket. spilling your fifth espresso onto your drawings and designs , maybe it’s time to sleep. a frightening look on your face which millennials like to call a resting bitch face. the heat ruining your collection of leather jackets. finding comfort in your friends who seem to understand your mood swings. having a pet cat who’s as feisty as you. spontaneous adventures live inside your head and your friends fall victim to those ideas. liking the rays of the sun more than the moon despite being a night owl. oversleeps anyway. trimming your bangs yourself because you couldn’t be bothered to go to the salon. overcooking your sunny side up eggs. sleeping to forget problems. drinking to forget problems. epitome of a ride or die. 

*  𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴘᴀꜱᴛ   .

aoki imojen was born to understand what it was to live a life with no structure. her father was part of a rising band in the 90s, toured all over small venues in japan that they slowly rose to a known local name, and imojen has seen all the chaos unfold from backstage in the arms of her mom. however, slowly transitioning into the year of 2000s, the economy was still struggling from the lost decade and the income from touring never sufficed for a growing family. imojen’s father was forced to leave the music scene with the help of her mother’s influence: “it’s time to be serious”; and work multiple jobs in order to fully provide for his first child and the another growing one inside his wife’s womb. 

growing up, imojen’s no stranger to music and her father loved to introduce rock music and bands to imojen’s upbringing. she adored b’z and the gazette, and it leaves no doubt that imojen’s father had been her greatest influence in life. as she grew older, not only did they share identical music preferences and influences, but imojen’s learned to play various instruments— the bass being her favorite. imojen’s also stemmed from that infamous reckless behavior his father’s known for back in the day, and when the teenage years came, so did the impetuous reputation begin. 

imojen and her mother aren’t exactly as close as she was with her father. in fact, their relationship was a toe out of the civil line. it got worse when imojen started to focus on the band she created with friends instead of school and late night practices turned to never returning home for a few days and having the audacity to blatantly lie when asked where she was when asked. it’s hard not to blame her mother when she assumed things for the worst. imojen’s gone quite defiant especially when she discovered that her and her father’s relationship had began to run askew. imojen blames her mother’s interference with her father’s music career as much as her father did, she loved him so much that she was completely blindsided to always take his side. and when the divorce papers came and went, imojen chose her father as she always would. 

her father got a job as a musician locally and eventually overseas, however, money didn’t come by so fast and easy initially. instead of going to university, imojen invested in learning the arts in tattoo design and worked as a tattoo artist to help with the bills. the pair finally thought to settle in korea when imojen’s father got a permanent job. and at this time, imojen has decided to try pursue a career as a musician as well, hoping that the thrill in her early band days are still well stored in her system. 

*  𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ   .

imojen can never be satisfied of living in the same area for so long, or at least under the roof with the watchful eye of her father. work’s payed well and imojen decided to move out and get an apartment of her own. hence, she found dallyeog, parties almost every single day, drags everyone into spontaneous adventures, comes home terribly drunk and wakes up with a huge hangover—well, still pretty normal. aside from the norm, imojen working at the tattoo parlor and taking gigs at bars as a bassist, imojen’s investing in writing music as well. she hopes one day to finally finish at least one song she’s been procrastinating for far too long and convince her father to make them a rock duo instead, but a band of her own would fantastic too.  

*  𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗    ╱  ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ   .

imojen looks quite mean at first glance, and it doesn’t help that she’s indifferent towards anyone who isn’t part of already her friend. she doesn’t hate, hate is such a strong word, she simply doesn’t have the attention span for people that don’t interest her or she doesn’t know fully well to enjoy a conversation with.

honestly has the gina linetti energy “how was i supposed to know there’d be consequences for my actions” as she literally does anything she wants before her brain can even weigh the pros and cons to it.

imojen enjoys taking risks despite the relaxed attitude and seemingly nonchalant view in life. it might be a surprise to learn that she’s quite ambitious, but underneath, she does aim for the highs (both meanings) in life, except there isn’t exactly a time frame for those and would much rather pursue them steadily. 

everyone can depend on imojen to have a good time, or if someone needed a friend to vent to, she can surprisingly be all ears, but never follow her words of advice. she does mean well, it’s just that she doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time and is quite reckless,, like ask her to pick between two choices and she’ll advice you to take the riskier one bc “it’s fun don’t be a prude”.

she is more sympathetic than she let on. imojen’s not very vocal especially with her emotions and on what she exactly feels about other people’s situation. serious conversations? catch her yeet away from those. they render her uncomfortable, most especially if it is about her. however, seeing her friends gloomy doesn’t sit right with her that she does anything to make them crack a smile. 

believes that people should be left to roam free and that authority is useless and ruins the fun— hence why she’d always be caught defying them. yes, she uses her brain, but acts more towards intuition and what she felt like doing that day. so yes, she might loves setting her life on the line.

*   𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗   ╱  ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ .

plastic hearts   ╱   someone whom imojen shares a passion for music with. the both of you are like peas in a pod as you both are in the same wavelengths as each other. they may not have the same types of music, but open enough to share a plethora of music playlists.

angels like you   ╱   the typical bad-good influence trope wherein imojen’s reckless behavior and liberated thoughts on legalities have gotten your muse in various dangerous but fun adventures. on a flip, your muse may be the reason why imojen’s woken up at 8 in the morning, bright, well, and not hungover.

prisoner   ╱   an angsty and toxic relationship that imojen could not get enough of. everyone sees this partnership (romantic or platonic) of destructive nature, both of you may or may not know, but regardless it can never be broke off no matter how hard both try. 

gimme what i want   ╱   the typical fwb relationship, we can add spice to it, but on the base that’s the idea. 

night crawling   ╱   imojen’s ride or die, the person she would instantly run to for an adventure, midnight strolls, alcohol escapades, and vandalism. but as things you both do burst into haywire, you’re both aren’t afraid to be open to each other too and spill secrets or bodies hidden in the closet. 

midnight sky   ╱   perhaps a new acquaintance?? friend?? that doesn’t exactly have a first good impression of imojen?? maybe vomited on your muse the first time they met, or jen was really mean for no reason under the influence of alcohol?? she’s chaotic so perhaps it wasn’t a good first meeting. 

bad karma   ╱   imojen hasn’t been exactly an angel all her life, and perhaps karma has run around to bite her in her ass. your muse might’ve been somebody who hurt imojen; either a terrible break up or severing trust, let’s explore :D 

golden g string    ╱   a band :D maybe nothing too serious, just a group of pals playing and making music together :D  or maybe the group's been playing gigs for awhile now and wants to head into the big leagues :D

honestly im so down with anything so !!!!!!

[capricornus-rex]

Hey hi!! I just wanna say first that I love your writing and you just capture Cal so well and your talent oml we stan 🙌 would you take a prompt of Cal being very confused as to why his girlfriend keeps crying every five seconds because he has no idea at first what's even happening and like it takes him a minute to put it together (it can be that time of the month or it can be pregnancy hormones, whatever's easiest, I'm sorry hormones made ya girl emotional and moody) pls & thanks!🙇

Hi Anon! First of all, thank you so much!! 🥺💞 Second, I AM SO SORRY that this took a while!! I know I shouldn’t be overusing the excuse that I’m swamped with requests and my fics tend to be more than just oneshots, but that’s the predicament right now. I hope you understand 😭😔 Anyways, I’m glad you still took the time to write to me ;;w;; I just feel reaallly bad that I made you wait long. Still, I hope you enjoy the fic, anon and thank you too!

Chapter 4: Untimely Blessing | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Other prompt/s in play: Anon 1′s prompt, Anon 2‘s baby prompt & Own fic idea

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

The weather was nice in Cerinda. Cal had been practicing with a self-made obstacle course in the forest, west of the lake where your wedding was held; meanwhile, you decided to take a breather by your wedding venue. You almost hated to admit that you couldn’t walk for perhaps a day and a half after that little private time you had in the Mantis with your husband.

About three weeks have already passed after that.

And for those three weeks, there was this feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach. Cal had noticed you craving for a lot of sweets—especially Jogan berries and space waffles—and you yourself felt sluggish, so you decided to sit by the sidelines of the training course.

While he had physical training, you meditated by the lake’s shore where it was tranquil. The peace helped you in getting into focus.

Your skin suddenly crawled in a good way, even though you were taken aback, you kept your eyes closed trying to keep yourself concentrated; but you ended up reminiscing how Cal’s lips trailed along your body, how his hands wandered and sank into your flesh. The feeling of his lips suckling at the exact same spots where he left his love bites jolted your nerves—your hand rubbed across your neck, chest, and shoulder and then crawled downward to your abdomen. You chuckled to yourself as the memories replayed in your head, struggling to remain focused.

“BD-1, over here!” Cal’s distant voice rang among the trees, but that didn’t distract you enough.

Suddenly, something was bubbling in your stomach and you could feel it rising to your throat each second. Your eyelids shot up and you fumbled onto fours, crawling away to anywhere until your entire body gave way, and allowed yourself to retch behind a tree trunk.

You coughed and spat out the bile, you clumsily crawled towards the edge of the lake, scooping a handful of water to your mouth to wash off the sour acidity that lingered in your cheeks. You did this for a couple of times until the taste was truly gone.

“Oh my…” you gasped, crawling away from the spot where you had your little accident and lay flat on the grass.

Your hand hesitated to crawl downward, to your lower abdomen just below your navel; your heart pounded with mixed emotions—you can’t pinpoint if you’re excited, nervous, or completely taken by surprise. But you’re primarily the latter, you just needed a second emotion to balance it out.

“Could it be…?” you mumbled.

You took a deep breath before your hand slithered below your navel, calming your heart of the eagerness—just to avoid breaking it if it wasn’t the case—and when your whole palm padded against your lower abdomen…

You felt it.

A tiny kick.

A little pulse.

Your heart leapt. You gasped—supposedly a laugh, but you were overtaken by emotion—your fingers rubbed across your tummy again.

There it is again!

“Aww…” you fawned, on the verge of happy tears.

Cal came out of the trees’ trail, spotting you lying down on the grass with your hand on your stomach. He bobbed his head to the side, quizzically looking at you wiping away a tear while standing at a distance.

“[y/n]?” he called to you, kneeling by your side on the grass.

Your attention shifted to his direction. He sat there next to you with a slightly confused look—mixed with a hint of concern for you.

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, and then shifted to your knees. His nervous eyes followed your position.

“Are you alright?”

“Cal…” you started. Unable to say the words—even though they’re already at the tip of your tongue—you take both of his hands and reeled them to your stomach.

Your husband’s eyes widened. His smile stretched from ear-to-ear when he felt the ripple of life coming from within you. His heart bounced in perhaps the fastest beat it has ever beaten in years.

“Cal, I’m pregnant!” you announced.

BD-1 trilled a long note in reaction, the little droid is just as surprised as his owner is!

The redhead stammered and blinked away several times, struggling to gather all the words he needed to express; when he cradled your face in his hands, you could feel just from his touch that he was bursting with sheer, indescribable happiness. He exhaled sharply, his breath warm as he touched foreheads with you.

“This… This is wonderful!” he gasped. He couldn’t speak further, acting purely on impulse, he closed in to kiss you—he pressed his lips long and hard to yours. “We’re having a baby!”

The forest echoed with your laughter. Cal snatched you into his arms and held you for so long as he buried his face into your neck, muffling his continuous laughing, and slowly rocked you back and forth.

Cal remained with you by the lake for the rest of the afternoon, he couldn’t take his hands off of your stomach; he wanted to keep feeling for the faint pulse of the conceived child in your womb. He started to daydream about the games he and the baby would play, how they would turn out to be—if they’ll have your eyes or his, if they’ll take after their mischievous father or their headstrong mother, whatever the case, he has already loved them the moment he felt the smallest beat.

—–

It was your third month since the conception of your child. The first few weeks were difficult and overwhelming, considering that this is your very first pregnancy. Luckily, you had help with Merrin and Cere. Still, it felt like your energy was slowly ebbing way as the weeks went by.

To avoid getting rusty with your combat skills, you continued to practice your swings, spins, and flourishes without using getting to the more acrobatic moves that required jumps and wide strides. Cal also kept a close eye on you when it comes to practicing, seeing that you’re still eager for sparring.

“I am so against this!” he exclaimed.

“Come on, the training droids aren’t really doing much help!” you whined.

He wagged his finger at you as if scolding a child, “Only one round, okay? Whoever wins, that’s that.”

“Deal!”

Even if you were still itching for action, you moved with the greatest caution and care—both for yourself and your baby—you improvised the moves that were usually lively, you replaced the low ducks and slides with spinning, dance-link evasions that still eluded an attack in the same grace.

However, the power and strength of your sword arm didn’t seem to dull over time. You fenced with your husband—the contrast in the lightsaber techniques have become more obvious now, and he was being careful himself, he knew that you didn’t want to take it easy and so he came at a compromise.

“Aha!” he exerted as he had you at swordpoint.

“Okay, you got me. Deal’s a deal,”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed.

“Don’t be so smug, love. I want another try next week,”

When you got back to the Mantis, you staggered on your footing for a few seconds. It was a good thing Cal caught you before you slammed your back against the ship’s wall.

“How are you feeling, [y/n]?” asked Cere.

“A little lightheaded, more often than I probably should,”

“Usually, that becomes quite the norm, especially when a mother’s at her third month,” Merrin added.

“Is that so…?”

A few seconds later, the lightheadedness was gone and you settled yourself on the couch next to Merrin. Like the entire crew, everyone was so delighted to hear the news. First the engagement, then wedding, and now a baby!

But the most excited one is Merrin; if not Cal, the Nightsister was constantly by your side. She was practically your sister ever since. She offered to mix up potions that would help in easing your pregnancy without harming both you and the child; she was also the one who gave the most advice.

“My mother herself was a midwife, besides being an acolyte. She taught me everything, even if I never saw myself being in the same position as her,” the Nightsister disclosed.

Nevertheless, she was still delighted for your bundle of joy. The two of you traded secret wishes and future daydreams revolving around the child.

One evening, in the middle of the night where everyone had gone to sleep, you jumped out of bed, rushing towards the bathroom to vomit… again. For the second time this day. Earlier, Merrin had concocted a potion that was said to help ease the tensing of the belly, so the cramping would lessen for a few hours. For a while, that potion seemed to have worked—but it didn’t stop you from running to the bathroom just to retch it out again.

Cal was awakened by the abrupt shuffling of the bed, he heard the faint pitter-patter of your bare footsteps leave the room and followed you to the bathroom.

“No, not again…!” he heard your hushed voice as you rushed out of the room.

The sound of your retching was muffled behind the door. Bile exited your stomach, leaving a stinging feeling in your core. You ended up crying in exchange of not straining yourself and hurting your baby in the process. You struggled to cough out what’s left, but only clear saliva spat out of your mouth.

Your kneecaps suddenly softened, your grip around the sink’s rim was your remaining support to keep yourself from falling to the ground. Suddenly, you felt an arm coil around your waist and a hand rubbing across your back.

“Hey,” your husband cooed. “Are you okay?”

You sniffled, washing away the dribble on your nose, but you didn’t answer.

“Are you hurting?” he continued.

“I keep feeling sick,” you sobbed, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you try to fight back the tears. “Merrin’s potion works, but only for the cramps.”

Anxiety was also a constant in your visits to the bathroom during the wee hours. You hated yourself for stressing out on bad dreams, you always had to bite your knuckles when breaking down to muffle out the cries behind the bathroom door.

Swallowing the lump in your throat did little in repressing your tears, some droplets escaped your eyes, Cal spotted them instantly and wiped them away with his thumb.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay with you until you feel like sleeping,” he consoled as he guided you out of the bathroom when you were ready.

“You don’t have to do this, you need to go back to sleep,” you gently scolded.

“You’re my wife,” he said firmly, a steely yet gentle look in his eyes glinted. “I’ll be here for you. Anything you need, okay?”

You hoisted and folded your legs, leaning against Cal’s shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. He feels for your stomach again, speaking to his unborn child through his mind.

Don’t give Mommy a hard time, sweetheart. He prayed as his lips nuzzled your temple while stroking your hair.

Two more months have passed. It’s the fifth month now, your belly had grown significantly. The morning sicknesses have seemed to lessen as time went on, however, in exchange it has become a little bit more difficult to move. The weight that you carried along with you has become more apparent; but that didn’t matter to you, all you could think about is the baby and you looked forward to its kicking. You and Cal sat together in the couch by the holotable, he now uses both hands to hold your stomach and found that they could no longer contain your belly.

“Oh, there’s a little kick,” he giggled.

You bobbed your head to the side, leaning against your own arm as you stare at Cal. You didn’t even realize that he must have shaved his stubble for just a little bit. Your knuckles stroked his beard and then your skin suddenly felt the smoothness of his freckled cheeks; his lips followed to where your palm is and nuzzled in for a kiss. When turned to you, his smile dissolved when he spotted a tear that you yourself didn’t even notice.

“Something the matter?”

“I’m a little scared, a little nervous. I mean… I’m so close now, Cal. I don’t even know if I—”

“Hey, you’re gonna be great,” he cuts in. He gingerly caressed your nape, fingernails raking the bottom of your hair, “I promise.”

He leaned closer to plant a long and tender kiss on your forehead. He kept his hands on your tummy, feeling for his baby, and he started guessing.

“It’s definitely a boy,” he beamed. “A kick that hard? Definitely.”

“Oh-ho, so someone’s gonna take your title of being the ‘One Who Kicks Ass’ in the Mantis?” you played along.

“Aww, he’s gonna have to get through me to steal my crown!”

[lisinfleur]

Where your rights end

Author’s Notes | Thank you for this sweet request, love! It was a pleasure to make it. It’s always a pleasure to fix this plot… 

Update: It gladdens me to add into this work this beautiful piece of work made by @doctorwhoandfairytaillover​ named Found. It's inspired by this work (which flatters me a lot!) and adds a lovely background to this pair and their interaction! Thanks a lot, girl! You rock!

Universe | Vikings Pairing | No pair Info | Viking Age Au, Elder! Reader, Fixing Plot AU, requested by @honestsycrets for 5CW6 Words | 1752 ⁑ Warnings: Cursing. Some violence. Angst. Sweetness.

"What's the matter, Ivar? You can't take it? No... I guess it must be hard for you now that your mommy's dead, knowing she's the only one who ever really loved you!"

At the moment those words left Sigurd's mouth he knew he had gone too far. But Ivar was always able to go further.

"I won't let you wondering for too long... Wait until we come back home so I'll tear that old hag Y/N in as many pieces as my ax can cut and then you must realize perfectly how it is to lose the one and only person who ever really felt something more than pity or disgust towards your despicable person, Sigurd!"

A stupid arguing that could have stopped dozens of times before that moment. But what arguing between them both had stopped before breaking boundaries that shouldn't be broken?

When would Sigurd lose a chance to poke Ivar's wounds about their mother? When would Ivar lose the opportunity to mock on Sigurd because of you?

But now... Now both of them had gone too far. The difference was that, among his brothers, Sigurd was probably the only one who really had a real notion of what Ivar was able to do.

All of them knew Ivar was terrifically strong. All of them knew he was capable of great things. Horrible things as well.

But Sigurd always felt he was the only one able to read those icy blues and see the real cruelty behind the baby boy's face Ivar was always dressing around. Somehow, when Ivar's ax sunk at that table after what he said, Ubbe and Hvitserk kinda seemed to see, for the first time, what Sigurd always had seen...

Their younger brother was serious in his threats...

He was really threatening the one and only person Sigurd ever had by his side, caring for his clothes, his braids, his food many times. You, who Ubbe had endless gratitude towards. You who Hvitserk loved to sit with. And hear the stories of the times when he and his brother were away with their father and Sigurd was there, visiting your house almost every day, finding in you the motherly figure their mother never had been for them all.

Except for Ivar...

The littlest among them was really feeling big enough to face all his brothers and say in Sigurd's face that he would kill you, that awful way.

"Ivar..." Ubbe warned, trying to get his little brother back.

But Ivar wasn't satisfied. The lack of movements of his rival or the glassy glare on Sigurd's snaky eyes weren't enough.

He had to show off to the crowd that was now looking at him once again, waiting for him to strike a final blow on a brother that was surely defeated by the smartness of his words, of course.

"What's the matter, Sigurd? You can't take it?" he said, ironically mimicking the words of the older one, playing with a fire that he didn't know, for Sigurd's fury was something no one had ever seen in all those years. "Ah, don't worry. I can save you some strands of her hair so you can hold them while you sleep..."

Sigurd's fingers pressed the cup in a dangerous way when his little brother smiled.

"Ivar!" Ubbe called up; this time, harsher.

None of them could say they didn't know the meaning of that awful attack.

Such as Ivar was breastfed for too long, Sigurd had his own addiction - and it was to sleep holding the strands of your hair in the middle of his fingers. Sometimes swirling it to make waves. Sometimes simply holding your beads or braids as a safety gesture that would make him feel home...

Safe.

Cozy.

As he never felt in anyone else's arms since his mother's arms became constantly full of Ivar...

"You're going too far. That's enough!" Ubbe continued speaking and Ivar turned himself to the older one, thinking the arguing was ended.

"Our mother's death is not something to be mocked by this disgusting bastard that I doubt is our father's son..." he reasoned, annoyed...

Unaware of the movements Hvitserk's silent eyes were following so closely.

A golden cup was placed over the table.

Steps were taken.

An ax was unsheathed.

"Sigurd? Sigurd... What are you... SIGURD!" Hvitserk's voice sounded before the sound of Ivar's chair scratching the ground could silence the whole crowd when Sigurd's hand gripped his little brother's collar, lifting him up enough for the boy seem to be standing in front of him.

Ivar's crippled legs were suspended, as his clear blues were looking at Sigurd surprised his weaker brother could be strong enough to lift him that way. Shocked that he could see death looking back at him in Sigurd's eyes.

"Don't you dare..." the bardic one growled as Ubbe jumped the table and Hvitserk walked around it, ready to stop him from doing something he couldn't undo.

"Sigurd, put him down," Hvitserk tried.

"Sigurd you'll break his bones! Put him down!" Ubbe ordered.

But Sigurd seemed to be listening to none of them. It was only Ivar and him, exchanging that awful and fierce glare as Sigurd's other hand was holding firmly the cable of his ax.

Supporting Ivar's weight with his brother's chest against his arm, Sigurd brought Ivar's face closer, causing Ubbe and Hvitserk to hold their breaths.

"You gonna fucking let him fall!" Ubbe insisted "Put him down, Sigurd!"

But the younger brothers didn't break the glance... Icy blues inside stained blues as Sigurd's voice sounded low, almost only for Ivar to hear.

"You listen to me closely, Ivar..."

His voice was graver, stronger, in a way Ivar never heard before. And there was a real threat in his eyes and body language, in a way Ivar never thought he could see on Sigurd...

"You stay away from Y/N," Sigurd continued, sounding serious, intense. "Cause if you hurt her in any way... If you harm her... I swear on my arm ring you shall regret the day our mother spat you out of her cursed belly into this world... And you gonna wish you could crawl back into the middle of her legs and hide forever inside her womb. Stay... away!"

Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at each other, utterly surprised by their younger brother's reactions. Sigurd was never that dark or that threatening. There was never that aura of seriousness and real danger around their bardic brother. Instead, Sigurd was the only one of them who couldn't inspire fear even when he tried. But somehow, those words were turning everyone uncomfortable and even Ivar couldn't say he wasn't bothered by that egregore around Sigurd's presence.

It wasn't like he was afraid of what Sigurd said. But he was sure this time, his brother wasn't playing games.

As slow as possible for the eyes, Sigurd lowered Ivar's body back to the chair, releasing the tight grip on his brother's collar, keeping that uncomfortable exchange of glances until Ivar was fully safe in his chair once again.

Without looking away from Ivar, Sigurd drove his words towards Ubbe.

"For me, that's enough. Father is avenged. I have no interest in getting involved in mother's avenge if that's your next goal. Nor whatever you want to do from the possibilities shown at this table pleases me. I wanna go home, back to my life I left behind. And move on with it."

Finally breaking the glare to look at the crowd, Sigurd continued, catching their entire attention.

"I'm going back home, along with King Harald and his boats. And those who don't want to follow my brother Björn to the Mediterranean Sea, nor keep raiding these cursed lands, those who want to go back to their lives can follow me."

His eyes went back to the three pair of blues who were still facing him.

"I'm fed up. And this feast is over for me."

Without a new word, Sigurd sheathed his ax and left the table of their brothers, walking away from the crowd back to their tent.

In the next morning, the boats were leaving in separated directions: Björn's to The Mediterranean Sea. Harald's to Kattegat, closely followed by at least ten boats full of men who decided to follow the lead of the less blessed by the leadership among the sons of Ragnar: Sigurd, who never led anyone before, had taken with him at least two hundred men, eager to see their wives, sons, and lands once again - for the disgust of his younger brother who saw the army he was so eager to lead becoming smaller and smaller.

But it wasn't Sigurd's problem anymore. His part was done: his father was avenged and he didn't see there was anything he had to do for the woman who bore him. Aslaug never bothered herself about him. So, he wouldn't bother himself about her. The gods could have her and she could rest in peace. His life wouldn't change because of it.

It wasn't her arms waiting for him at the bay when the boats arrived. It wasn't into her embrace he always hid like he was doing now; nor the scent of her clothes that brought him that delicious sensation of being back home.

It was you...

It was in your arms that the fully-grown prince was throwing himself like a child, hiding his face on the crock of your neck just to feel the scent of safety he missed so bad.

"I'm back, mor..."

You smiled caressing his hair and his back, looking up to his face when the hug was finished, remembering with tenderness when he was the one looking up to your younger face.

Now, the boy you took almost as your son was raised and turned into a man, bearded, but still keeping the same smile he always had.

"I missed you, boy."

But he would always be your boy. The boy you found for the first time playing alone at the river with his wooden boat. He would always be the boy you grew old watching grown. The son your womb never gave to you, but somehow, the gods decided to gift you with.

Sigurd's hand gently caressed your hair and he smiled, satisfied.

"Let's go home."

The whole world could end around him, he wouldn't mind. As long as he could live until your last day by your side, and carry your loving memory with him until his last sunset, then, he would be happy.

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[wyomingparmesan]

Unexpectaversay

Happy One Year Anniversary to Unexpected! In honor of the occasion, I have decided to make a “5 hour rant” about just how much this story means to me.

I guess I’ll start with the most important thing. This rant comes with a spoiler warning as I will be discussing the story itself, so if you have not read it, this is your warning.

Now, let’s get to how I came up with the idea for this story. I’ll be throwing it way back to when I was a child. I was probably…four years old, and my mom was pregnant with my youngest sister. The doctor had given her this magazine that had photos of babies in the womb, and I was absolutely delighted by these images. From then on, I became fascinated by anything having to do with pregnancy. Throughout my childhood, when there were no good cartoons on, I’d watch pregnancy and childbirth shows on TLC. In high school, I knew I wanted to be an OB/GYN.

I also found myself being fascinated by the subject of teenage pregnancy, like wow you can have a baby in high school? When I was ten, I watched this show on ABC Family called The Secret Life of the American Teenager, where the main character was a fifteen year old girl who got pregnant. Then, when I got into high school, I had a few friends who got pregnant. This made me become very supportive of teenage mothers.

Now onto the fanfiction side, my very first fic I ever read was actually a teen pregnancy fic. This was when I was about thirteen years old. From then on, I always wanted to write my own teen pregnancy fic, but alas, I wasn’t a good writer.

Then we skip ahead to 2016, when I decided to write my first fanfiction ever, and of course, it was for The Loud House. Once my writing improved, and I became more confident, I decided to was time to finally fulfill my dream. I wanted to write a teen pregnancy story.

Now, as for the idea itself, I definitely pondered it for awhile. What ship should I do? What should the baby be? What will their name be? What will their family think? There’s lots of questions involved with a story like this. At the time, I was super into Ronniecoln so that’s who I wanted to write about. Then came the fact that I’ll have to age them up, and I wasn’t super into that idea. After that, the obvious choice was, of course, Lobby. I’ll be honest, at this time I wasn’t a super big fan of Lobby. I shipped it, but it wasn’t my OTP. Lori is one of my favorite sisters though, and at the time I hadn’t written many stories with the siblings at canon age so, it was perfect. Now I just needed a general plot besides the fact that Lori is pregnant. One night, it hit me.

I tend to daydream a lot before I fall asleep. This is really how I come up with the ideas for my fanfics. Well, one night I had a daydream about Lincoln. He was crying while holding a baby. I didn’t see which sister it was, but I knew it had to be Lori. Anyone who knows me or has read my stories knows how much I love Lincoln. He’s the subject of many things I write, and often times it involves angst. There was another thing that enticed me about this daydream that also led me to write “Unexpected”. This is where it gets into spoiler territory, so you’ve been warned yet again. I knew that the baby absolutely had to be a boy.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like for Lincoln to have another boy in the house, and giving him a brother just wasn’t an option for me. How about a nephew instead? In the story, Lucy overhears Lincoln talking about how sometimes he feels lonely. This leads Lori to ask him what’s wrong, and they have a very cute brother/sister moment that I will insert down below:

After checking up on Lisa and Lily, she had one destination left. This was the one she always looked forward to the most.

Lincoln had his lamp on, letting her assume that he was still awake. She grabbed the doorknob and poked her head inside.

He was laying on his bed, in his orange pajamas, just staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Linc," she said, softly as to not startle him.

He looked up at her. "Oh, hey Lori"

Lori looked at him. He had been acting strange for the past few weeks. She'd often ask him if he was alright, to which he'd answer, "Yeah, I'm okay."

As an older sister, she couldn't help but feel concerned. She knew he was lying, and this time he wouldn't be able to get himself out of it this time.

She went over and sat next to him. "Look, Linky," she began.

He sat up and looked at her. "Yeah?"

She put her hand on his leg. "You know that if something is bothering you, that you can talk to me about it, right?"

He nodded.

She turned to him. "So, is there anything you wanna talk about?"

He looked down. "Yeah…I guess so."

She frowned. "Does it have anything to do with what Lucy said a few weeks ago?"

He nodded.

"Do you wanna tell me about that?", she asked gently.

He sighed. "It doesn't matter." "Why would you say that?", she asked. "You always matter."

"No, it doesn't matter because well," he began.

She scooted closer to him. "What is it?"

"You already have enough stuff to worry about right now," he continued. "I don't want you to worry about me, too."

"Oh, Lincoln," she said. "You're my little brother, you'll always matter to me." She said, grabbed his hand. "No matter what I'm going through, you can always talk to me."

Lincoln looked up at her. He had a little smile on his face. "Thanks, Lori," he said. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain."

"I'm all ears"

He sighed. "Well, do you remember a few weeks ago, when Lucy said something about me feeling alone?"

She nodded.

"She overheard me talking to myself, I guess and well," he started. "It's just sometimes I feel like the odd one out."

"What do you mean?" "You have Leni, Luna has Luan, you all have each other," he continued. "I don't have anyone."

She looked at him, confused. "So, you don't like having your own room?"

He shook his head. "No, it's not that," he said. "You have sisters, other girls you can talk to about girl things. Me? I don't have a brother, the only other guy I have in this house is Dad."

Lori nodded, as she was started to understand. "So what I'm getting at is that, you sometimes feel left out because you're the only boy?"

He nodded.

"But what about Clyde?"

"He's my best friend," Lincoln said. "But sometimes I wish I had a brother, ya know? Someone I can share my room with, someone I can talk about boy things with."

Lori saw the sad expression on his face. "I know you said that you feel alone, but the truth is Lincoln," she said. "You're never alone." "We may not be boys, but you're our brother, and we love you so, so much."

"I know, and I love you guys, too," he said. "But there's just always that feeling ya know?"

She used her hands to call him over to sit with her. He crawled over and climbed into her lap. She wrapped her arms around him.

"I hate that you feel that way, Linky," she said. "Just know that me and our sisters, we love making sure you're included in things too." She kissed his hair. "You're part of this family too."

Lincoln sniffled. "I know, and I'm sorry that I feel this way," he said.

"Don't be," Lori said. "Your feelings matter too."

Lincoln wiped his eyes. "Thanks Lori," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Linky," she said. "And I bet your hoping I have a boy, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that would be awesome," he said. "But I'd love it even if it's a girl."

"Me too," she said. "I love them so much."

"I love them too," Lincoln said, smiling.

"I'm glad you feel better, Linky," she said. "Now get some sleep, you've got school tomorrow."

She released him, and he crawled into his bed. Lori gave him Bun Bun, and she kissed his forehead.

"Good night, Linky," she whispered as she headed out the door.

"Night, Lori," he whispered.

She slowly closed the door behind her, leaving a small crack. She stood there and watched his eyes flutter closed as he drifted off to sleep.

"I love you, Lincoln."

Lincoln and Lori’s relationship is one of my absolute favorites in the show, so this scene was very pleasing to write. I have another scene to share, but I think it would be better to wait for the end. Now back to the writing process. The thing that scared me the most with this story was how Rita and Lynn Sr would react to Lori’s pregnancy, as well as Bobby. I’d never really written Bobby before, so it made me nervous.

Throughout the process of writing Unexpected though, I began to fall in love with Lori and Bobby’s relationship. I knew that he’d always love Lori, no matter what. Pregnancy is no easy thing, and I’m so happy that Lori had someone like Bobby there to support her through it all. I wanted to exploit Lori’s insecurities with her feeling fat and ugly due to her pregnancy. This led to some cute moments between her and Bobby.

Lori laid in her bed. Her head on a pillow, and her feet propped up. She watched as Bobby came back into the room, a bag of chips in his hand.

"Here ya go, Babe," he said, handing her the bag.

"Thanks, Boo Boo Bear," she said as she grabbed it. She opened it up, and began stuffing chips in her mouth.

Bobby laid down next to her, rolling over on his side and putting an arm across her belly. He made a funny face. "Are you really that hungry?"

Lori swallowed. "I can't help it, ever since I got pregnant, I eat like a horse."

"A cute horse"

Lori frowned. "You really think I eat like a horse?"

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "You're the one who said that." "But you're supposed to disagree with me," Lori said, her voice getting louder. "You-you did this to me, Bobby!"

He was taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

"Just look at me," Lori said, moving her arms down her body. "I'm fat, my face is broke out, my feet are swollen, all I eat is junk food, and yet." She turned to him. "You're still here."

He moved in closer, putting a hand on her cheek. "Of course I am, Babe," he said softly. "I don't care if you're fat, or have zits all over your face." He put a piece of hair behind her ear. "I love you, no matter how you look."

Lori's lips quivered, and she felt tears threatening to run down her face. "You're just being nice," she said, sniffling.

He turned her so that she was looking at him. "Look, Lori, I mean what I say." He grabbed her hands. "And I mean it when I say…I think you're beautiful."

Lori closed her eyes as she felt the tears escape. "Oh Bobby…". She snuggled into his chest, his shirt becoming damp with her tears. He laid his head on top of hers, his chin brushing against her hair. He rubbed her back, and pushed her head further into his chest. "I know that you probably don't see it the way I do, especially right now, but you are so beautiful."

"You think I'm beautiful even though I'm fat?", Lori asked.

"You're not fat, you're having a baby," Bobby said. "That's a wonderful reason to be 'fat'. When you told me you were pregnant, I was shocked, but I wasn't upset." He rubbed her hair. "I think I was more worried about how we would make this work. I had a job and a home in the city, I left my family, but I wouldn't do anything different."

He moved Lori up towards him so that she was facing him. He put both of his hands on her cheeks. "I don't hate you, Lori, I never could." He began wiping her eyes with his thumbs. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than with you." He pulled her in for a hug. "And there's no one else I'd rather have as the mother of my child."

Lori let out a sob as she put her arms around him. The last few weeks, she's felt so different. The rapid changes in her body made her feel fat, and ugly, and undesirable. The more she thought about it though, the more she knew she had picked the right guy.

"I love you so much, Bobby," she sobbed, snuggling into his shoulder. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I love you too, Lori."

They didn't even notice it when they fell asleep. All they cared about, was being in each other's arms.

The last thing I wanna talk about ,because this rant is already super long, is how throughout the course of this story, my writing style changed drastically. I began to show more than tell, and I was able to add in more details and really amp up the emotion. I’m so proud of how it turned out, and I continue to use what I learned from this story in my current writings, as well as the stories that came after this one.

This story is my legacy as a writer in this fandom, with it now being my most viewed and favorited story, sitting at over 36,000 views and ninety-four favorites. It’s the story that made Lobby my OTP, it’s the story that gave me my little “meme baby” and first OC, and best of all, it let me fulfill my dream of writing that teen pregnancy fic that I’ve always wanted to achieve.

Now, for the end of this rant, I will leave you with something special. Remember that daydream I talked about earlier? Well, that scene came to fruition in this story. I’ll leave off with that, since you’re all probably tired of me rambling now. Thanks for listening to me talk about something that means so much to me, both as a person as a writer. Now, for the moment you’ve all be waiting for.

Suddenly, everyone looked at the hallway entrance, as footsteps could be heard. Rita appeared, causing everyone to stand up.

"So, guys, the baby is here," she said.

Everyone began to talk excitedly and ask questions.

Rita motioned with her arms. "Settle down everyone, Lori and the baby are just fine. She's pretty tired, so she doesn't want many visitors right now."

A collective "Aww" could be heard. "But, she did have a special request." She walked over to Lincoln, sticking out her hand. "Come on, sweetie, Lori has asked that you see the baby first."

Lincoln looked up at his mom, his mouth dripping open a bit. "R-Really?"

She nodded. "Yep, let's go."

He handed his comic to Ronnie Anne, who gave him a smile. He stood up, grabbed Rita's hand.

She led him down the long hallway. He could already feel the sweat beginning to form on his face, and his legs became shaky. His breathing became heavy as he felt his heart racing in his chest.

They stopped in front of a plain, white door.

"Okay, here we are," she said. She pushed the door open and they stepped inside. Lincoln saw his sister laying in the bed, a small bundle in her arms. She put a finger to her lips, indicating that he needed to be quiet.

He stepped as close as his legs would take him without collapsing.

"Hi, Linky," she whispered. "Are you ready to meet your nephew?"

A shaky smile quickly spread across his face. Nephew? He had a nephew?

Lori held the baby out to him, but he stepped away.

"I-I c-can't," he started. "M-My hands are too shaky, what if I drop him?"

She smiled at her brother. "It's okay, Lincoln, you won't drop him."

He let her put the baby into his arms. His breathing became slower as he looked at his adorable, sleeping face. "His name is Luis," Lori said, softly.

"H-Hi Luis, I'm your Uncle Lincoln," he said.

It took him a few moments to realize it. He had a nephew, his sister had a son. There was another boy in the family. He gently rocked Luis in his arms, and caressed his cheek. His lips began to tremble, a few tears running down his cheeks.

Lori frowned. "Oh, Linky, are you crying?"

He nodded, sniffling. "Y-Yeah," he wiped his eyes. "I just love him so much."

Rita held out her hands, and Lincoln handed her the baby.

He walked up to his sister, placing his arms around her.

Lori hugged him back, as hard as she could, and laid her head on his.

He let himself cry into his big sister's shoulder. She rubbed his back as he whimpered loudly.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, I just…I just…", he sobbed. "Shhh, it's okay, Linky. I love you," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

"I-I love you too," he said, sniffling.

For a little while, it was just him and his big sister. She laid there, caressing him as he let out all of the happiness and feelings he was experiencing. Lori hadn't expected him to react this way, but knowing her little brother already felt such a strong attachment to her son, made her heart melt.

[yourstateofdreaming]

Ribbons (Chris Evans x Reader)

Summary: One where Chris goes on to do some explaining about a video you posted online. He is a proud father of your two-year-old daughter and everything she does somehow ends up on social media. Warnings: None. Might be some fluff? Word count: 1212 Notes: gif credits to the owner. Also, this was sort of inspired byThis Quick Drabble.

Chris sits with Jimmy Fallon, the cameras are rolling and he knows you are back home watching this interview with your beautiful baby girl. He smiles at the thought of you holding her to your side.

Belle is two years old, she’s going to be three in a week, and a big sister on the fall when you have your second child. This brightens Chris’ mood once again, your little baby… oh, could he be any happier? You are heavily pregnant at the moment, at eight months pregnant all you want to do is get the nursery ready, cuddle and get some sleep. So much sleep. Belle is a sweetheart and she’s just as excitable as you and Chris were - multiplied ten times. The baby in your womb is another girl, and Chris is over the moon with excitement; thinking that he knows the road of caring for a tiny delicate baby girl, excited about how her head will begin to understand the world around her as Belle has already started to. As the interview goes on, Jimmy decides he wants to ask him about his plans away from the big screen; he talks a little bit about side projects he has been putting back and then smiled at the man on the other side of the desk.

“…and of course I’m going to be home with my wife and kids.” He does not even try to hide his excitement; to which Jimmy brings attentions. “Oh yeah! Your wife is pregnant, isn’t she?” Chris smiles and nods slowly, turning to the people in the studio. “Congratulations!” Chris thanks him and then Jimmy goes to reach behind his desk, your husband raises a brow at the crew and turns his attention back at the host of the show. “So,” Jimmy still does not show the audience or even Chris what he’s holding, “we obviously have all become big fans of your daughter Belle.” Chris laughs, clapping his hand onto his chest. “I cannot blame you, she’s adorable.” He keeps a hand on his chest and shows his open palm to the audience as they laugh. “She is! Hasn’t she always been? Who do you think she gets it from?” Jimmy asks. Without hesitation, Chris opens his eyes wide and turns to him. “Her mother. My wife is A-mazing.” He states, stressing the last word for emphasis. To make his point, Jimmy puts a picture up and shows it to the audience and camera, on the screen appears a selfie took by Chris himself, it was taken when Belle was three months old, and in the image Chris was leaning his head on top of yours as you cuddled to his side and Belle laid on his chest, both of you sound asleep, with your hands on the man you loved, the resemblance was undeniable.

“I don’t wanna sound cheesy, but my wife is incredible in every way, and Belle is always with her so she’s picked up a couple of things from her.” He chuckles, “as much as we pick up from her she is also picking up some of our phrases or habits… she really is like a sponge!” Jimmy nods and smiles. You stare at the screen from home, brushing Belle’s hair while she sleeps on your chest, half resting on your baby bump. “How old is she?” Jimmy questions. “She’s two,” Chris smiles and turns to the audience extending his hand and pushing down on the air, “but if you ask her, she’s gonna put three fingers up.” “Why?” Jimmy smiles and Chris explains that his little girl is excited about her birthday. “Well, but she’s still very young, just the other day…I was checking twitter and I found these videos…” Chris laughs as he hears him, already knowing what he’s talking about. He nods his head and touches his own chest while Jimmy asks for the videos to be displayed. Back home, you giggle at the mention of those two videos you two had not been able to keep to yourselves. “You ready?” You hear your own voice and then see Belle’s joyful little face. Bright blue eyes staring at the screen for a second before the little suit can be seen. She’s wearing a pink onesie and has tiny ballerina shoes on, her hair is tied into a bun and the video shows her dancing around and rolling on the floor. For a two-year-old, she was doing a pretty solid floor routine. At the end, she rolls off of the little matt you had set up for her and she reaches for Chris, he pulls her up in his arms and kisses her nose before the loud giggles resonate through the living room and the video ends.

In the second one, you were giggling with Belle, both of you were sitting on your ankles and before leaning forward, you helped your baby girl turn so she would not hurt herself. “It’s a 10!” Chris announces and the two of you clap for her before you turn as well. “Mama, no!” Belle complains and crawls into your lap, you stare wide-eyed and listen to Chris’ laughter as your daughter reminds you of the stand that you must do at the end. “Ah, Bee, I forgot!” You apologize while Chris laughs. “That’s five points!” She says and you fake a gasp, although some giggles come out of your mouth when you turn to your husband behind the camera. If he had not been so busy laughing he would have given you a score, but he was unable to, caught up with his eyes closed as he tried to stop laughing at the cute reprimand you had just received from your own daughter. In the present time, Chris laughs at the sight of the video and pats his own chest a few times before he can compose himself; explaining that you had taken your daughter to your yoga lessons since she was still only a couple of months old. “She took into it, so my sister suggested we took her to a kids’ gym and she’s taking gymnastics.” He smiles and waves his hands around when he speaks about it, “she does it for the fun of it and she’s…you just saw it! She’s-fantastic!” You kiss your daughter’s head while you watch Chris speak of her on television; this was not the first time he did, but it was the first time in a long time and you always loved the look on his face when he was with Belle or talking about her. From the moment you told him you were pregnant, your husband had been in love with the little life you two had created together and as you hold that same life in your arms and rub your baby bump with your thumb, you cannot contain the happiness and excitement that wash over you. “You didn’t see us with the ribbon!” Chris joked and Jimmy laughed. “Do you practice with her? As captain?” The tonight show host asked. “I try, you know?” Chris put his hands in the seat’s armrests. “My wife had a floor routine with her, I had a whole ribbon routine…didn’t make it in there!” He paused to point at the side and turn his eyes to the audience, “but it was beautiful.”

—

I hope you liked it! Remember that requests are open!

[thewildwilds]

I finally got around to posting this! As some of you may know, I got Kuzupeko fic ideas coming out of my ears. Along with my numerous one-shot ideas, I have a ton of longer multi-chapter story ideas that are probably close to impossible for me to work on all at once. So I’m opening up a survey to see what followers would be the most interested in reading!

The following are excerpts from the fics I’d like to gauge interest in. (Just FYI, these aren’t the only multi-chapter fic ideas I have, they’re just the ones I’d like to know if people wanna see or not.)

The Blackbird and the Hare

As the cloud of dust settles around him, he peeks out from behind his arms. His eyes widen and his hands fall to his sides.

Before him stands his Servant.

Not a man.

A woman.

She emerges from the circle clad in muted robes and a nun’s straw hat. Gripped in her hand she holds a bamboo sword, as equally unremarkable as her attire. He catches a glimpse of long, silvery hair peeking out from her hat, plaited twin tails. Slowly, she lowers her sword and tips her chin up. Beneath the brim of her hat, she peers at him with the most intense pair of eyes he’s ever seen.

“Are you the one who has summoned me?” she asks, her voice low and sharp.

“I… Y… Yes. I am,” he stutters, struggling to find his voice despite his best efforts to look brave.

She takes a sudden step forward, startling him to take a step back, but instead of approaching farther, she drops down to one knee, tip of her sword to the ground.

“With this, our contract is complete,” she says. “My destination has been decided. I, your faithful Servant, shall become your sword and shield. I shall guard your fate with my own two hands. I swear to protect who I must protect, cut who I must cut. By my blade, I pledge my life to you…

“Master.”

The Seventh Holy Grail War has come to Hope’s Peak, and from the night come forth seven Masters and their Servants. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu is chosen as the Master from the respected Kuzuryuu magi family. Victory must be assured, even if it means his life.

A slow burn fate/Stay Night AU I’ve been talking about since forever. Doesn’t really require readers to know anything about FSN since I’m taking artistic liberties with it anyway. It’ll have plenty of other ships besides Kuzupeko, both romantic and platonic, character study, and a good helping of gen-fic goodness, but it mostly has a Kuzupeko focus.

Haunting (working title)

“Shit!” His knees hit the pavement as he throws himself to the side just in time. The biker whizzes by without stopping. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, asshole!” Fuyuhiko shouts after him. The biker keeps going without looking back.

Fuyuhiko growls in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything more. He maneuvers himself around until he’s sitting on the ground and inspects the damage to the knees of his pants. They’re scratched up and dirty from where he hit the pavement. He can even see the makings of a tear in the right knee. Great.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a pair of shoes. When he looks higher, his eyes meet a pair of legs that most certainly belong to a woman. Heat crawls up his neck. Ah, geez. He scrambles onto his feet and looks up. “Sorry!” he sputters without thinking. A half-second later does he realize his mistake.

It’s her. The ghost girl on the bridge, and she’s looking right at him. He sees the recognition flood her expression; the way her eyes widen and her lips slightly part. He quickly averts his gaze and shoulders his bookbag like he hadn’t seen anything in the first place, but she moves herself into his field of vision, and he can’t help but meet her eyes once more.

“… You can see me?”

His stomach bottoms out.

Shit.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu is a normal high school boy… if you consider seeing ghosts normal. He’s been able to see ghosts since the death of his sister. It’s not so bad. As long as he doesn’t make eye contact, the ghosts don’t bother him. Before he knows it, Fuyuhiko’s caught up in a whirlwind of adventure and intrigue when he accidentally meets eyes with the ghost of a girl he always sees standing at the bridge.

An AU where Peko is a ghost and Fuyuhiko needs to help her figure out how she died so she can move on to the afterlife. It’s a lot of the mystery unraveling genre that I love, mixed in with themes of self-discovery, loss, and learning to let go.

The Impossible Years

Their newborn daughter claims two lives before she is even a day old.

The Pekoyamas are poor. Everybody knows this. Once renowned for their prowess in swordsmanship, now struggling to get by in a rapidly evolving country. But even so, Nobuyuki and Kasumi Pekoyama want a child, someone who will carry on the family name.

It is not as easy as it sounds. They are older, and so conceiving a child at their age is difficult. They try time and time again with no result. It seems impossible. They are so desperate they even consider the inconceivable: taking out loans from disreputable sources to aid in their efforts. They are tempted. Extremely tempted.

Eventually pride wins out. They may have no money, but their honor is all they have left, and so they cannot give it up.

A miracle happens. Kasumi becomes pregnant with triplets. They’d struggled for years to conceive and now they will get three at once. Two girls and a boy.

They spend months finding suitable names for their arriving children. The son they will name Peri, after the American friend who aided their family after the war. And then there’s Yuriko, after the lily blossoms Kasumi favors. But they struggle to come up with a name for their third. Reina. Emi. Shinobu. Yume. Haruka. None of them sound right. After agonizing over it for weeks, they decide they will name her when the day arrives and they can get a good look at her face to know who she will become.

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Her brother and sister come out of the womb stillborn, their umbilical cords entangled. Nobuyuki’s heart plummets. In just a few seconds he changes from an expectant father to a broken man. He has no hope for the last, his final daughter who comes out looking so frail and tiny, but his spirits are lifted, just a bit, when the midwife manages to get her to cry. It’s another miracle. The doctors say she may not have survived had her siblings made it out safely.

The midwife hands the surviving child off to her mother. Weak, but breathing. Alive.

“Peko,” Kasumi decides, touching a delicate hand to the crown of the baby’s head before dissolving into tears.

A dark canon-divergence AU that explores what might’ve happened if Peko hadn’t been taken in by the Kuzuryuu family. Would these two children grow up to be happy, as they should? Or is suffering always meant to be their fate?

I don’t wanna spoil anything, but this fic is likely to be much darker than my usual work. But hey, if you like crying and screaming, vote for this fic.

Somewhere We Call Home

The automatic door squeaks open again, loud and grating. “You seriously need to get your manager to fix that, man. It’s killing me.”

Hajime ignores him and glances up to see who it is with his customer service smile, but something about the newcomer makes the smile slide right off. Fuyuhiko turns to see who it is too and instantly feels the color drain from his face.

No.

She’s almost exactly as he remembers her. Tall, square glasses, twin braids. She’s wearing a cracked leather jacket and faded jeans and a distasteful glare she’s aiming his way. Mahiru says something, to him or to Peko he thinks, but he can’t make out what that is behind the roaring in his ears.

No no no no no. I’m not, it’s not, we’re not ready yet. Come back another day. Please.

His prayers go unanswered. She’s here and she’s not leaving. Peko doesn’t break eye contact for a second as she straightens her spine and, minutely, rolls her shoulders back.

“… Hey,” she says.

Inspired by Night in the Woods, a super self-indulgent Small Town America AU nobody asked for. Fuyuhiko moves back into his hometown, population 2,000, after living on his own for two years. But the town has changed in his absence, and he’s got a lot to answer for, including all the things, and people, he left behind.

In other words, Fuyuhiko hecked up really bad and moved out of town without telling Peko, his best friend since they were two years old. Now with him back in town, he reconnects with friends, forges new bonds, hecks up some more, and, eventually, grows up. (or, Fuyuhiko becomes an adult whether he’s ready or not and Peko expresses negative emotions without feeling like she’s in the wrong)

Please take a couple minutes to answer my survey and tell me what you think and what you would like to read!

I will be reblogging this throughout the week and closing the survey at the end of next Sunday. Sorry for the spam in advance!

[eyez-ff-blog]

○○ eyez | forty-five

“You’re already getting huge, Nic. What has Ib been feeding you?” Beija chuckled a bit as she sat at her laptop, scrolling through her phone as she glanced up at the digital call. Nicole sat in her apartment as she  rubbed her budding stomach, laughing a bit as she laid her head back against the pillows on her bed.

“Everything. He says he has to make sure the baby is strong. I think this is karma for all the times he teased Jermaine about being so protective. He won’t even let me get out of bed at times,” She shook her head.

“I told him laughing is catching, but he never listens,” Beija chuckled to herself before she pressed her lips together. “But how is everything? You are doing okay, right?”

“Yeah, I’m finally over the morning sickness and shit so now I’m just dealing with the body aches. It’s fun,” Nic chuckled at her own sarcasm before she ran a hand over her hair. “Oh! I saw the Fader interview—you guys looked amazing in those photos. I can’t wait until I have this baby already, because I need your diet,” She laughed.

“Girl, eat as best you can and exercise. When you’re chasing around your little one, you’ll shed those pounds,” Beija smiled a bit before she relaxed. “But speaking of little ones...Jermaine asked me about having another child,” She said.

“Oh...oh,” Nicole’s face seemed to soften in realization, and Beija issued a slow nod before sighing. “Well, what do you wanna do, love? You know it’s your final decision,” She reminded.

“I know. And I want to have more kids with him. That’s not the issue—I’m just scared. I really went through it when Janiya was born, and I’m afraid that it might happen again. I know I can’t control what happens in my womb for real, but it’s still frightening...sometimes I still think about it,” Beija huffed before she ran a hand through her hair. “What should I do, Nic? I just need a way to ease my mind, but I’m not sure what to do...”

“Well first, as I would tell your husband—calm down and don’t think too hard. Your mind can work against you sometimes,” Nicole began. “I won’t lie, I feel your fear. I think about it every day with my own baby. But I know that if I am doing the right thing, that’s all I can do. The body is a strange thing and doesn’t always do what we want to do. I just don’t want you to think that if something happens, it’s your fault. Not everything can be in our control,” She explained, and Beija nodded slowly.

“You’d think after years of hearing that, it would get through this head of mine. But I’m gonna think it over some more. He said if I don’t want to do it that way, there are other options. I’m sure we could either find a surrogate mother, or even adopt. There’s so much we can do...I just kinda feel bad because it’s not like I don’t want to give him more children. I’m just scared,” Beija admitted.

“And it’s okay to be scared! Just let youself feel. Then, come up with a game plan. I know you can do it, B. You always come up with a way to get it done,” Nic reassured her, and B smiled briefly.

“Thanks, Nic. I really appreciate it.”

“Mama!” Beija looked up as Janiya ran into the room, holding up a sheet of paper with a flurry of colorful scribbles. She held it out to Beija before  holding up her arms, silently asking for a lift into the bed.

“Did you make this for me, baby?” Beija asked, and Niya nodded before the woman pulled the little girl into bed. “Well thank you! It’s beautiful,” She smiled before situating Niya upon her lap. “Look, it’s auntie Nicole.”

“Hi,” Niya waved at the camera.

“Hi sweetheart! Ugh, I swear she looks just like you, B. It’s so weird to see. Makes me wonder what mine is going to look like,” Nic laughed.

“Hopefully it won’t have Ib’s beady little eyes,” Nicole’s loud laugh in response only made Beija laugh even more.

“Leave my husband alone, okay? Remember, karma is a fickle thing—your next kid’s gonna get Jermaine’s big peepers,” Nic giggled as she shook her head.

“I hear y’all talking about me!” J’s voice could be heard before he walked into the bedroom.

“And they might get his big ol’ ears, too! Nosy self,” Nicole continued, just to further taunt her friend.

“Y’all be nice,” Beija giggled as he slid into the bed next to her. “But go ahead and get some rest, okay? I’ll talk to you later,” She said.

“Gotcha. See you later—bye J, bye Niy!” Nic waved.

“Alright, be ssafe,” J concluded before B hung up the call. “What were y’all gossiping about in here?” His question came off as a joke, watching as Niya crawled over into his lap.

“Same ol’ thing. Just laughing at how Ib has her damn near bed ridden already,” She laughed softly as she closed her laptop and sat it on the bedside table. “You guys were coloring?” She asked.

“Mhm. Did you show mama what you made?” J asked Niya, and she nodded as she pointed at the picture in Beija’s lap. “She’s getting good—I think we got an artist,” He watched as Niya continued to climb over his body. “Baby, what you doing?” He chuckled as he grabbed her, holding her up in the air as she started to laugh. “Spider monkey,” He teased.

“You got all her stuff packed for home?” She asked.

“Yeah—I just left her care stuff for you to do because you know that better than me,” He mumbled before he stuck his tongue out at Niya, who did it in return.

“Alright, well let me attend to that. That flight is early and we need to be in Charlotte on time,” Beija hopped out of bed before she walked towards the door. “And make sure you’re packed, too!” She called over her shoulder.

“Yes, woman. I got it,” J dramatically responded, and she rolled her eyes as she headed towards Niya’s room. She was sure he’d forget something, so she’d have to check to make sure he had all his stuff together later on.

July 4 – Houston, Texas

“Boo,” Niya pointed at the comfortable dress that Beija had laid out for her as they sat in her old bedroom, and she grabbed it before she tried to put it on. She didn’t get very far without it just sitting on top of her head.

“Wait a second,” Beija chuckled as she helped Niya into the loose fitting garment, nodding as she slipped on her socks and shoes. “There you go, pretty girl. We gonna go see your uncle now, you ready?” She asked, and Niya slowly climbed out of the bed before Beija stood up and picked her up off the ground.

The two headed downstairs to where the rest of the family were waiting. “Zo,” As soon as Niya saw Alonzo, she reached for the man—he took her into his arms before Beija shook her head.

“Yes, that’s uncle,” She responded before she shook her head, following him outside as they walked behind the rest of their family members. “Am I ever gonna get to hold my own baby?” She asked with a joking tone. It seemed like since she had arrived, Niya had been pretty much kidnapped by her brothers—out of all of them, though, Janiya had become very attached to Alonzo. She wasn’t surprised, since they had spent a lot of time together during the past wedding rehearsals.

“Probably not. Get over it, you get to have her the rest of the year,” Alonzo said softly before he chuckled to himself. “It’s payback anyway, since Logan has been fused to Jermaine since you two got here,” He nodded towards Logan, who had her uncle-in-law in a gridlocked discussion about which Marvel superhero was the best one.

“Fair enough, but I want her when we get there. If anyone is going to introduce her to Rashaad, it’s gonna be me.”

Beija, Jermaine, and Janiya rode with Alonzo, his wife, and Logan this year—the caravan seemed to be growing evermore, now that Kieran’s wife had finally had her baby, and Marquis’s fiancée had announced her pregnancy as well. By this time next year, the Demarco home would be filled with children again. Beija was almost certain that her parents loved the idea. But the accumulating members seemed to be seemed to almost be like a fruitless compensation for the loss. Shaad’s death was still felt; it would never not be felt. But it got a little easier as more family came about. They could lean on one another for support, because they knew that not every day would be easy. There were still days that Beija had her terrors, or days that seemed to drag without hearing her brother’s boisterous laugh or his smooth tones when he sang. It still felt eerie when Beija caught whiffs of the cologne Mekhi had given the boy when he turned 13; he swore he was the man back then, and would get all the girls. So many things still reminded her of the man he’d never get a chance to become, but maybe that was okay. He’d never have to experience the trials of life or the loss of innocence. He’d forever be as innocent as a child. When they arrived at the cemetery, everyone unloaded out of the car and visited the grave in groups as they always did. The last couple of times they had been home, Jermaine had gone to visit Shaad with her—he went alone this time, and she watched as he stayed there for a long while. When he returned, he seemed a bit more at peace when they arrived, but there was this layer of discomfort that she noticed; he didn’t like to deal with death or loss, even if it wasn’t his own. It was something he’d never tell her, but she picked up on it.

“Come on fatty. Let me introduce you to your uncle,” Beija pulled Niya out of the car seat, and the two of them walked together towards the grave. Beija was always the last to go for obvious reasons. Janiya tugged at Beija’s hand and pointed back at the cars in questioning. “No, baby. This is your other uncle.”

Once they arrived at the gravesite, Beija took a seat on the grass before she sat Niya on her lap. The grave was covered in relics, from fresh flowers to letters and cards that wouldn’t be opened. Every week, Mekhi came to the grave and took up the letters that middle school friends would leave behind, and take them home to Rashaad’s old room. He’d sit them within the drawer of Shaad’s desk for safe keeping.

“This is your uncle Rashaad,” Beija unlocked her phone and began to show Janiya old pictures of when she and Shaad were children.

“You?” Niya asked, pointing at the younger version of her mother. In that moment, Beija could see the striking resemblance between she and her daughter. Aside from the eyes that she inherited from Jermaine, the girl looked just like Beija.

“That’s me,” Beija laughed a bit as she scrolled through the pictures slowly. “Your uncle was so funny. He always joked around, and he loved to sing songs,” She explained. “You know what his favorite food was? Chicken,” She revealed.

“Kicken!” Niya bounced excitedly at the mention of the bird, and Beija laughed.

“Yeah! You like that too,” Beija kissed her daughter’s temple before she sighed. “He would have loved you to death, little girl. Y’all would have done nothing but annoy each other,” She laughed softly before she ran a hand over the cold cement of the tombstone. Her eyes welled with tears before she quickly blinked, feeling a few rolling down her face.

“No,” Niya whined, and she looked down as the girl frowned, reaching up to wipe her face.

“I know. Mommy shouldn’t cry. I’m okay, baby,” Beija chuckled as she noticed how concerned her child became, and she just knew it was a habit Janiya had picked up from her father. “Thank you. You’re so sweet,” She kissed the tip of her nose. “You wanna go now? We can eat when we get home and you can play outside,” Janiya heard the word ‘play,’ and the way she rose from Beija’s lap was all the confirmation the woman needed. Beija raised off of the ground before she took a deep breath, allowing the heavy press upon her chest to dissipate. “Come, say goodbye to uncle.”

“Bye-bye,” Janiya said softly, and she looked around in uncertainty of who she was bidding farewell to. Beija simply took the little girl’s hand and she walked with her back to the truck. Maybe this was something she feared more than a failed pregnancy—the loss of a sibling could cut so deep, and she wasn’t sure if she could put Janiya through the possibility. Maybe her mind was overworking itself; she had tried not to think about her constant back and forth about what she wanted to do about the desire for another child. She’d need more time to think, and that was for certain.

Once everyone returned to the house, the family took to the backyard to continue the rest of their festivities as they always did—Marquis took on the ‘job’ of playing with and watching over Logan and Janiya as Mekhi did his best to teach Jermaine some grilling skills. Beija and Alisha sat in the shade as they drank some wine coolers, talking casually.

“So mama...I was thinking,” Beija began, and Alisha glanced over in her direction to give her daughter full attention. “I wanted to do something...charitable. For Shaad’s memory,” She said. “I’ve been thinking about it for years, but I’m not sure how to start things off.”

“I think that would actually be a good idea,” Alisha agreed. “Me and Mekhi had been talking about possibly doing something, but we weren’t sure how you and the boys would feel. We know this is still pretty heavy...especially for you,” She said.

“Yeah. It still...it’s still a lot,” Beija ran a hand through her hair before she glanced up for a moment. “But I feel like this can help. If we can find a way to stop all this police violence crap, or at least slow it down—I will feel more at peace. Shaad deserved to live. But if he can’t do that, I want his name to live on instead,” She said.

“What ideas did you have, exactly?” Alisha asked.

“I want to make it a family thing. Maybe we start with a rally of some sort in the morning time. Something like a town hall where we sit down with officers and just...discuss, make a game plan, establish an understanding. We have to make these officers understand that our people aren’t criminals or villains. I want them to earn our trust again,” She began. “Then maybe, we could have a block party or festival type thing. Black owners can come and sell their wares: food, clothes, art, whatever it is. We can get local artists out here to give them exposure. Then towards the end of the day before the fireworks, we can release some red balloons for Shaad, and for any others like Shaad. Then whatever we charge for like...tickets, or whatever, can go to a certain charity. Maybe I can reach out to the Black Lives Matter organization...” She glanced over at Alisha before she bit into her lip. “I guess you can say I have been thinking about it a lot.”

“I can tell! But that actually sounds amazing, baby. I really like the idea,” Alisha smiled a bit as she sat up. “I think it can be done. If there’s anyone I know who can get a plan and execute it, it’s you,” She encouraged.

“I learned from the best,” Beija laughed softly before she nodded. “I think I’m gonna do it. That’s going to be my first big project. I’m excited now. I’m glad you’re being so supportive,” She smiled.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s a good cause, and it would make Shaad so happy. You know, he always did love being the guest of honor,” Alisha joked, and Beija let out a giggle before nodding in agreement. “I can’t wait to tell your father—he’s going to love it, too.”

“Baby!” Beija’s head shot up when she heard Jermaine’s excited tone, and she let out a loud laugh when he held up the plate as he approached her. “Taste this,” He seemed to glow as he spoke.

He sat the plate in front of her, and she noticed that it was a hamburger—he had even went as far as dressing it as she liked it. “Did you grill this?” She asked, and he nodded as he gazed at her in anticipation. She grabbed it and took a slow bite before she chewed slowly, and she furrowed her eyebrows slowly. “Baby...this is actually really good,” She complimented, and J’s smile melted her heart. He looked so childlike in his excitement and she couldn’t help but to be happy at his achievement.

“Pops seasoned the meat but I grilled it. I’m learning,” He proudly announced.

“You are! I’m proud of you, papa—now come get the prize,” She poked her lips out, and he chuckled as he leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips. “Go learn some more. Earn your right for me to make your plate later,” She chuckled.

“Wait until I learn the chicken. That’s all we’re having at home!” He called over his shoulder, and Beija laughed softly to herself before she took another bite of her burger.

“That boy is something else—you two are something else,” Alisha laughed, and Beija raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her wine cooler. “It’s just so refreshing to see you so in love. It’s the cutest thing,” She teased.

“You tease me about this all the time,” Beija groaned as her mother laughed once more. “I still can’t believe you thought I was a lesbian. That blew me; imagine being 20 years old and having your mother give you that talk. It’s almost worse than the birds and bees one,” She remembered the conversation like it was yesterday. She was so appalled she laughed right in her mother’s face about it at the time.

“What? I mean, I would have loved you just the same if you were. I just thought maybe men didn’t interest you. You seemed so wrapped up in school and everything that I began to wonder. You’ve always been like that, too. So I thought I was missing something,” Alisha explained.

“Nope—I just wanted my life to be together before I relinquished my power to a man, mom. You taught me that,” Beija chuckled. “We’d be talking to each other in a way different setting if I had chased guys instead of trying to make sure my life was right. Imagine that; I would have never met Jermaine if so,” She said.

“Hm, that’s true. Maybe you would have been with that boy you dated...what was his name...Andre. Andre Bordeaux,” Alisha had a sharp memory, and Beija sometimes hated that. The woman could remember damn near everything Beija wanted to forget. “Whatever happened to him? He was such a nice boy.”

“That nice boy became a little pea brain after I gave him my virginity,” Beija rolled her eyes before taking another bite of the burger she was given. She shielded her mouth as she chewed, continuing her dishing. “Swore he was hot stuff—that’s why I dropped him. And good thing too; Lauren told me he’s on kid number four...with baby mom number three,” She explained.

“Oh...oh my,” Alisha started to laugh a bit. “Well I guess things happen for a reason. But I’m glad you did what you had to do. It makes me happy to know what I taught you was applied,” She paused before she mumbled. “Four kids...I’m still trying to wrap my head around the grandkids I have now. I don’t know if that many all at once would be that fun,” She chuckled.

“Probably not. But speaking of grandkids...I have been considering giving you another,” Beija said, and Alisha glanced over at her curiously.

“But?”

“You know what ‘but,’ ma. I’m terrified of going down that route again.”

“Well,” Alisha nodded. “I don’t want you to do anything on account of me, but I want you to at least go to a doctor, figure out what things will help you. I know you, you’re going to want a big family. So go get the information you need before you proceed,” She said.

“Yeah, that’s what my friend Nicole told me—then she told me to breathe and that I can’t control everything,” Beija let out a small huff. “Tch. Says who? I mean, I’m sure there’s a way I can ensure a healthy term and delivery, huh?”

“Not entirely, no,” Alisha said with a small chuckle. “You are bullheaded like your father, and it never fails to amuse me. You are not always going to have complete control, baby. Sometimes you gotta let God lead you. Not everything is the devil trying to harm you, but it’s God trying to teach you something,” She explained. “Just trust Him. Trust yourself, B...”

Beija nodded slowly before she watched Marquis roll around in the grass with the girls, and her eyes stayed transfixed on Janiya, who proceeded to climb all over him. She was the product of Beija not having control, ad she had to wonder if maybe, not having the steering wheel all the time was so bad.

[mindofadistressedme-blog]

Just a kid

Just a kid from Brooklyn  Better yet known as crooklyn Where the apartments smell like piss And misses jones's cooking Walk down 2 blocks and you'll get jumped just for looking  Ps 6 was where I balled at  I remember the night I got my ball jacked Man I want my ball back The other park was where my boi got threatened with the mack but we don't speak on that cause it made him move and he never came back  Down the block in the church parking lot was where I got jiggy  Dropping buckets and making dudes look silly Then there was that day shet iggy  Asian dude from the projects was false claiming  In Brooklyn there's no respect for faking He got G checked with a 9 inch knife  They almost took him off this earth over some stupid shet what a life Making kids look dumb as I shake left and they go right  Another defender shaken out of sight  Another sore loser who wants to fight Brooklyn B R double O K L Y N The place of sinful zen Too cool to be in the shadows But too weird to be in the spotlight Ain't got the newest Jordan's on so that mean I ain't hot right...sike  See that's what wrong with us Wanna reject the message cause the person giving it ain't flossing enough Yea he speaking truth but the clothes he rocking ain't cost him enough So what's the price? What I gotta rock so that I can be liked? Maybe if I sell my soul then I'll be allll the ladies type  Ha Nah  gotta give em something different Something they gon end up missing  But what if what I'm doing is only different cause as a race we lost the vision  What if Fred Hampton was right What if it's not about black vs white What if the reason people are so submissive is because they believe in Jesus Christ  I mean am I right? They preach to turn the other cheek but how will the perpetrators know what they're doing is not right  I say we forgive but don't forget  400+ years of slavery but we forget we were kings and queen in Kemet Go to church every Sunday  But back to work on Monday   See we put the focus on fvcking bitches getting money and not doing our own dishes What do I mean by that? We go out on dates Hoping to get laid When instead we could be at home together sipping on champagne  But back to the topic What's weird? Is normal only normal cause that's what we give the light What if weird is what was hyped Then maybe the spotlight  will just be something we recognize as not tight  Is our desire to be normal just an addiction Like those chips you can't avoid late at night when you walking up in the kitchen You see the weird kids give us something different  Something we know is missing I'm from the city where Buildings scrape the sky Police shoot and kill an innocent child But don't bat an eye Arresting someone  Just trying to get high Putting cuffs on the dealers  Who just trying to get by  But where'd they get it from Who gave them their supply Never mind that because policy is to just worry about hassling who you can see with your eye  Officers know they can't touch the head honchos the one they call the guy Cause they know their department will reign hell on them and their job will go bye bye  What about morals? What about what's right? Ain't no time to worry about that when the only thing on your mind is making sure you put food on your kids plate tonight Gotta do whatchu gotta do out here in these streets  It don't matter if what you do makes mothers weep Everyday you patrol the streets Looking for a young teen to beat What's your reason this time? He had a gun? He reached for his pocket?  He fit a description? He doesn't fit the demographic of the neighborhood so he must be up to no good right? Haha see you got it wrong though Cause while you doing what you gotta do to put food on your kids plate What you're doing to the world is breeding more hate And before you know it'll be too late Cause the same kid who you buss your ass to put food on their plate  Will be the same kid who's body ends up on the news tape  Now who you feeding? Why stand for the anthem For the red the white or the blue I say if you stand for the anthem Then you a damn fool Who wrote the anthem I ask Mr Francis Scott keys a ku klux klan member without the mask What does it stand for this red white and blue  White signifies purity and innocence  What's more pure and innocent than a child  Somehow that didn't stop officers from shooting one  Red for hardiness & valor  Valor meaning courage in the face of danger  Something black(melinated?) people have had for a real long time  The danger coming from the ones who have sworn to protect us  And finally my favorite color blue Signifying vigilance, perseverance and justice Justice Doesn't justice mean? The definition being just behavior or treatment Fairness Morality Honesty All synonyms for justice Do we really feel justice is being served in this country I don't  So I say again  Why stand for the anthem For the red the white or the blue I say if you stand for the anthem Then you a damn fool Ddougbe@baypath.edu And if you're sitting here thinking well what about the vets? My father is a cop what about him? Blue Lives Matter What did the vets fight for? Not for the first amendment? The freedom of speech Of course blue lives matter there's no disputing that cause all lives matter on this earth That includes the animals and the mammals that we choose to consume as if it's our right to take there life force  but can we really say all lives matter when it's black lives that are being unjustly taken  How can you justify shooting and killing a man who has his hands up in surrender? How can you justify choking someone out while they plead for their life saying I can't breathe? Should we not be for the preservation of life? What more do you want? But we can take a shot for harambe right? Tits out for harambe tonight? I find it funny that some people take more pride in a gorilla being killed than our own race And I do mean race cause there is only one And that is the human race Forget all the dark skin vs light skin Black vs White Keep life simple 1+1=2 Out of the womb Out of the womb I fall Some unknown hand smacks me so I ball Can't walk yet so I crawl In the blink of an eye old enough to go to the mall After high school go to college that's where we send em all Who's we who's all The successful black kids of course anyone who doesn't go must be a Neanderthal  Graduated college still haven't gotten a call I have to go to college? Humph don't make me lol Would I have a job by now if my name was John dick or harry? Better yet maybe I should just marry Marry a girl named sally Maybe drop everything and move out to cali I can't stand being stagnant  This feeling of floating  Nowhere to land just adrift Fvck it I'll do a radio show like professor griff Maybe work for a guy named Biff Who's family came over to America and was able to get a business loan in a jiff Meet a wombman named tiff When I'm down she'll give me a lift  When I'm up she'll give me a kiss But what's the point of all this Feels like something laid out for me so that when I get desperate I'll see it as the only way out of the mist Now 30 years later I have regrets of not sticking it through and believing in my gift Depression  Anger Sadness You get the jist  But hey maybe ignorance truly is bliss and I should just settle for this Bliss