#keep the kiddos pure

[gurorori]

um

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn @kvk6433gkcigv @coolgirl458 @beekeepingageissome

[eternally-racing]

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 

“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[mooooonnnzz]

hi!!! I fell in love with your content and I wanted to make a little request, since it was on my mind for a while...

It's kinda cringe but I saw your hc's/fic about Stan's and Ford's reaction to their daughter having a partner, but what would they say about the break-up??? how would they react?? 💔💔

I'm Glad There Is You

Stan + Ford HC's of you getting broken up with!

ʚ♡ɞ 4,2k words

ʚ♡ɞ we're so back

ʚ♡ɞ i've been cooking this up for the past few days mwehehe

ʚ♡ɞ i won't be publishing fics as frequently! but its better cuz i wont be pushing out poopy fics. i can actually take my time with them and make em better :3

ʚ♡ɞ that's all enjoy! request are still open too :p

🎱 Stan

𝄞 Stan hadn’t suspected a thing when he saw you rush into your room after being out all day. You occasionally do that when you were exhausted and had no more battery left in you to uphold another conversation. But, when he saw you all disheveled in appearance. Not bothering to glance at him, let alone tell him about your day, he knew something was up. Springing your wellbeing in the conversation was tricky. He knows that if he straight up asked if you’re okay, you’d burst out into tears and cry out incoherent words that sounded like mushed up sobs into his ear. So how could he ease you into talking about yourself without having you break down? For the remainder of the day, he was tackling himself with ways he could ask about how you’re doing, stemming from slapping a sticky note on your forehead to passing a note under your door. But none of them seemed effective. His brain was splitting into two. He couldn’t decide and the day was coming to a close. The orange overhang of the sun shone into the shack and Stan was contemplating on asking your partner why you were sad because if he didn’t know what was going on, your partner had an idea or the full picture. He decided against it though. Maybe this was something you’d rather keep to yourself? 

𝄞 The stress was so bad he had to go outside for a quick smoke. Seeing you in an emotional state of disarray sends him into one as well. He plucked a cigarette from his pack and pinched it in between his lips. Craning his head up a bit to light up the cigarette, he shielded the orange flame sparkling to life from the wind with his cupped hand. He blew a stream of smoke into the evening air, his electrifying nerves nulling into a soft calming buzz. He knew smoking was bad for him, but he couldn’t stray away from it in times like these. The door to the front porch painfully creaked open. Looking over his shoulder, he softly smiled upon seeing you. “Pumpkin,” He pats the side right next to him. You take the seat and inhale the crisp air—well, from what you can get with all the cigarette smoke littering the air. “Second hand smoking is way worse than first hand.” You mention, delicate amusement trailing in your words as you take a seat beside him. 

𝄞 “You’re the one who walked out here knowing I was smoking.” He replied with a flick of his hand. Another trail of smoke escapes his mouth as he exhales, his body visibly relaxing into the familiar routine. “I should get a cigarette too.” You stretched out your arms, cracking a small smile. “Heh,” Stan flicked the cigarette, small shreds of ashes trickling down from the burning end of the stick. “You think you’re funny.” You nod intensely. “I think I’m very funny.” You look off into the horizon, eyes carrying such a thick somber look to them Stan had to finally ask the question he had been beating around the bush for who knows how long. “You okay, kiddo?” 

𝄞 Your eyes glisten over with tears, bottom lip trembling as you hold back the words you’ve been dreading to say to your dad the minute news broke out to you. “Oh, [Name].” Stan burnt out his cigarette, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him. The pure affection coming from Stan made you pour out more tears, trembling sobs wracking your body as you mournfully cried onto his shoulder. “Let it out, sweetpea.” His hand comfortingly patted your back. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but maybe you needed a quick cry to comfortably tell him what happened. His stomach churned as the suspicion of the reason why you were crying into his shoulder rose. He had a feeling on why you were acting like that, but he had hoped he was wrong.

𝄞 He wasn’t wrong. He was right, unfortunately for him. After recollecting yourself to the best of your ability, Stan had discovered that your partner had broken up with you earlier today for reasons that they had not specified. Frustration bubbled up inside Stan and it took every bone in his body to not slam his fists on your ex’s door, gun in hand to shoot them down for breaking your heart. Instead, he opted to swallow down his anger and tend to you. You needed him to be right by your side and he wasn’t going to suddenly up and leave to shoot down a person. He’d wind up in jail and then you would have to deal with the loss of your partner and your dad. The thought sent chills down his spine. You peeled yourself off his shoulder, leaving a slobbering teary eyed stain on suit. “I’m sorry.” You mutter, eyes red and burning from the force of squeezing them closed. “It’s okay, sweetpea. You don’t need to apologize for things like this, you know that right?” His thumb swipes a stray tear off your cheek. “I know,” You hiccup. Stan seeing you like this infront of him shredded his heart into tiny little pieces. Who could hurt you like this? How could someone protect his child’s heart and break it the next day? Your partner even promised that they’d never pull a stunt like this, and yet here you are, bleary eyed and sniffily.

𝄞 Your face pinched with a forever sorrowful look and for a second he thinks that he’s never going to have you back, he’s never going to see your smile ever again and that alone terrifies him. There has to be something that can cheer you up, right? You’re not forever stuck in this pool of sadness? This is something someone can get over right? All prior knowledge to his personal relationship flies off his head and out the window. He removes himself from his thoughts and grounds him in the moment. What is something that’ll cheer you up? An idea sprouted in his mind. “Want to watch a movie with your old man?” He doesn’t know how you’d respond to his offer and it slightly scares him. He’s never been able to fully predict your every move, but he has made some sense of them later on, but he’s never seen you in this state before and he doesn’t know what to expect. “I’d like that.” You meekly nod your head and Stan has to contain himself from lurching up into the air and cheering out in happiness. Rather, he clears his throat and broadly smiles at you. “I’m gonna take a real quick shower. Pick out a movie you wanna watch and I’ll be back in no time.” 

𝄞 The rest of the night was spent snuggled up in the sofa, a blanket of yours of when you were a kid was draped over you and Stan. It barely gave you any coverage but you claimed that it did when Stan would mention it. Stan didn’t want to disagree with you and besides, the blanket reminded him of when you were a little kid, carefree and giddy with little to no knowledge of idiotic people who’d carelessly shatter your heart and leave you without any consolation. The movie that was playing was and still is an all time favorite of yours. You and Stan had memorized the lines that have been forever sewn into your brain from how many times you forced Stan to watch it when you were little. Guess some things don’t change. The days following are full of extensive care and love, enough that would be overbearing to anyone that wasn’t you–at least sometimes. 

𝄞 Fishing outings were a must. Stan would rapidly knock on your door, standing on the other side decked head to toe in his fishing outfit. Your fishing hat in hand. You couldn’t say no to him when he’s looking at you with such a sad look in his eyes and dressed up, putting on your worn fishing hat that has seen better days. Stan proudly smiled at you, wiping off a tear from the corner of his eye. “Why are you crying, Dad?” You chuffed nervously. “My eyes are sweating!” He covered his eyes with his forearm, violently sobbing as he walked away to get the fishing gear. In his defense, he hasn’t gone fishing with you in a good long while and seeing you wearing your fishing outfit really triggered the water works in his eye. The past week has been an emotional wreck for you and him, who could blame him? You had forgotten how much fun fishing was. A laugh rattles through your throat as you reel back your fishing rod. This must be your third attempt in catching a fish, and Stan’s enthusiastic commentary struck a funny cord within you. With a few more tugs and reeling back, you caught the fish. “Awesome catch!” He patted your back with so much force, you jolted forward, making the boat lean to the side, causing you to lose your footing and drop the fish in the water. When you were about to revel in your loss, you heard a large splash and large droplets of water sprinkling over you. You turned your attention over to where the splash was heard and to your luck, Stan bobbed his head out of the water, gasping dramatically as his arms flailed around. “Dad!” You laugh.

𝄞 “The water isn’t even that deep.” Talking was a task to do with how hard you were laughing. “Oh.” He stopped thrashing around and allowed him to sink to the bottom of the lake floor. And to his surprise, the water barely even passed his upper chest. That realization made you hunch over in laughter. “Oh, stop laughing!” He grabbed onto the edge of the boat and tried pulling himself up, but the sudden shift in weight made the boat tip over, sending you and all the other belongings in the boat into the freezing water. “[Name]!” He looked to where you were under the water, ready to dive in and grab you from below when you sprung out of the water. You stared at him, cheeks puffed as you struggled to hold back your laughter. “Oh, whatever.” His initial panic was washed off with playful annoyance. “Go ahead, laugh at your old man.” He rolls his eyes upon hearing your boisterous laughter echo in the air. “That was insane!” You wrap your arms around Stan’s neck, hoisting yourself up so you don’t drown while laughing. “Yeah, go ahead. Laugh at this poor old man who’s clearly struggling.” 

𝄞 Singing your favorite songs in your karaoke machine was his favorite way to catch you off guard. He’d notice you reminiscing on the past and he’d make a beeline to your machine, slamming the buttons that would turn it on and play a song that you like. His gruff scratchy singing voice always pulled you out of your mind and into the present moment. Walking into the living room where he relocated your karaoke machine for times like these, you couldn’t help but laugh as he passionately sang into the microphone. “Disco girl, coming through! That girl is you!” He points the microphone at you, motioning you over to join him. It takes some convincing but when you do, you and him are blissfully singing your hearts out into the microphone. 

𝄞 Seeing your partner around town was an immediate mood kill for Stan. Unaware and in a chipper mood, he found himself in the grocery store. Stacking up on food and snacks to fill your stomach and his. When strolling into the available cash register, his smile curls into a grimace when he sees who was behind the counter. “You,” he spat out. “Ah, Mr. Pines!” They nervously chuckled. “Good to see you. How’s it been?” They can’t make eye contact. The lazer like glare Stan was giving them was enough to know that things haven’t been good. Grabbing an item from the shopping cart, he hovered it over the conveyor belt, mulling over his thoughts. He could not pay for this and run out of the store or he could unscrew the carton of milk and squirt it all over your ex. Or maybe, he could do both? With speed no one could comprehend, he undid the lid and spilled the milk all over them, chucking the empty carton right on their head for extra measure. He then grabbed the cart and bolted out of the grocery store, leaving everyone in the store stunned. “Is anyone going to arrest him or?” A random passerby asked, watching how your ex just stood there, completely befuddled with milk dripping down their body. 

𝄞 “Dad? Why is the news saying that you assaulted a worker in the grocery store with milk?” Stan scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see on the news, sweetie.” He takes a good sip of his pitt cola. “But it shows camera footage of you doing it.” You gesture to the video that was playing. “Fake news. You know how technology is advancing. They can make anything these days.” He grabs the remote and switches channels. “There! Now, we don’t have to see that.” You smile, elbowing him. “It was cool that you did that.” You mutter. He chuckles. “The kid deserved that.” 

𝄞 Drives around the town and wreaking havoc in rival attraction traps were a good stress reliever and anger outlet. You were swinging with all your might, your axe that was in hand was splintering through the large wooden statue. “Keep going!” Stan was serving as a lookout, his eyes switching through the front door and to you. Sweat rolled down your temples as you delivered one last final blow to the statue. The statue slowly tipped forward. “Let’s go.” Stan urgently whispered, running back to the family van with you in tow. Stan started the van and sped out of the parking lot and into the driveway. “God dammit, Stanley Pines!” The person emerged from his house, shaking his fist in the air. You clapped your hands together, laughing. “That was a fun one.” You noted, swiping the sweat off your forehead with your shirt. “Who’s next?” You ask eagerly. “Check on the map. You decided where we will go next.” This was the first time you fully smiled at him with your signature laugh following after. No remnants of sadness stuck to you. He knew right then and there that he got you back. 

📖 Ford

𝄞 Ford was peacefully slumbering on the couch when the front door was slammed shut, scaring him awake. He jolted forward, the book that was covering his face fell flat on his lap, startling him. “[Name]?” He closes the book in his lap and pushes it aside. You didn’t respond and he was quickly resorting to the idea that it wasn’t you. Creeping towards your room, his knuckles knock on the door. “Sweetie?” He puts his hand on the knob and very slowly turns it. “I’m coming in.” He announces. Opening the door, his eyes land on your back. Quiet sniffles and hiccups could be heard coming from you and Ford’s heart clenched in his chest. He never liked hearing you cry. “[Name]?” He settles himself down on your bed. He couldn’t get to see your face properly since you were curled inwards with your blanket slightly obstructing your face, but he could see your body quiver as you suppressed your sobs. Ford sucked his bottom lip into his teeth. Equally as clueless as his brother, he doesn’t know how to approach this. He hadn’t had the slightest idea of why you’re crying and that truly bugs him. 

𝄞 His hand rests on your hip, fingers tapping in a soothing rhythm. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He’s chewing on his lip, anxiety running its full race through his body, relentless and awfully energetic. He’s sure by the end of this, he wasn’t going to have a bottom lip from how much he was nibbling on it. You shuffle further into your blanket in response. “You don’t wanna talk about it?” He croaks out. He never liked when you pushed him away in your most vulnerable moments. He knows you mean well but he detests being in the unknown. You let out a small hum. He had learned over the years that two hums were yes and one was no. It was a very asbured way to communicate but it did come in handy when you weren’t in the mood to talk. This was a way of telling him that you weren’t in the mood prevented Ford from asking an assault wave of questions.

𝄞  “Do you want me to stay here with you?” Two hums. Patting your waist, he shuffles to the other side of your bed and plops down right next to you, mindlessly staring off into the ceiling. His anxiety was still pounding through his body, his clammy hands and beating heart proved that but it quelled a little of it knowing that you wanted him beside you. That you found comfort in his presence. He’d hope you did, he didn’t raise you all these years just for you to hate him. Wait, you don’t hate him, right? You could never hate him. He’s your dad! Can kids hate their own parents? He hated his dad so that can be a generational—

𝄞 “I think hear your overthinking from here, Dad.” Your voice comes out muffled from speaking through the blanket covering your face. He blinks, swallowing his doubt and looking over to your blanket covered face. “Sorry,” he lets out a dry laugh, scratching his cheek. “It wasn’t my intention to annoy you.” You pull the blanket down to the bridge of your nose, allowing Ford to see your irritated swollen eyes. “You’re not annoying me, Dad. You being anxious makes me anxious.” Ford cracked a smile. “Like father, like child.” That managed to pull a smile from you. “Unfortunately, I grow to be more like you everyday.” You say with a roll of your eyes. An overdramatic offended gasp leaves Ford. “And that’s a bad thing, how?”

𝄞 Playful banter was tossed between the two of you, each quick remark and quip allowed you to pick yourself up from the hole you were cowering in. After a while, you mustered up everything you had and told him about the break-up. Ford really couldn’t believe it at first. You had to repeat it to him twice much to your dismay but once he caught what you said, his face fell. “They were a waste of time anyways.” He said with a flick of his wrist. “Dad!” You weren’t expecting him to come off so strongly over hearing the news. “It’s true. They couldn’t even take my work seriously! How could someone laugh at my face when I tell them that aliens are real? Someone is clearly stuck in the stone ages.” 

𝄞 He was riding on the mindset of you need to forget this person and move on. Wallowing over losing them wasn’t ideal and you need to distract yourself with other things to prevent yourself from dwelling back on the thought of them. He was done with your ex, so should you. But he was real quick to find out that you weren't exactly like him in that aspect. He’d find you resting on the couch, eyes mindlessly staring at the TV as you’re cuddled up with blankets upon blankets. Tear marks were stained on your cheeks. Maybe you couldn’t distract yourself? Maybe he should be the one that distracts you? He’d scribble drawings of you and him on a piece of paper and fold it up into a cute little airplane and toss it over to you. You would unwrap the little gift with a smile, tears clouding your eyes. “Aw, Dad...” You held the piece of paper to your chest.

𝄞 Your favorite dinner would be cooked almost everyday, and if you have more than one, you bet he’d be coking it up in the kitchen, offering different favorite meals every night. Anything that would bring the smile on your face back. Adventures out into the woods, just like old times, was a thing he’d bring you along with. Even when you did protest and groan, whining how you would rather cry into your pillow, Ford stood his ground and made sure that you got ready for the adventure he had meticulously planned. The minute you step into the familiar lush woods, a sense of calmness falls over you and suddenly you’re a kid skipping around in the woods, in search of anything to show Ford so he could write about the new discovery in his book. Finding old discoveries lightened a smile on your face and unknowingly to you, Ford would draw you in his book like how he did when you were younger. Old habits die hard. 

𝄞 A lot of nights were spent you talking your feelings out to Ford. He was a good listener and had a few quips of advice to lend over, since he’s been in a similar but not so similar predicament. But he was more intent on listening to your concerns and anxieties. “I can’t believe I let them do that!” You plop your back down on your bed, anger spilling out of you in sharp words. He shook his head, a very sassy “mhm,” leaves him. “They didn’t deserve you anyways.” He moved his finger side to side. “Why are you acting like that?” You laugh, gingerly pushing him. “Don’t your friends act like that when something happens?” You beam from ear to ear, a loud laugh escaping you. “No! Where did you even get that from?” Ford shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought they did?” He pretended to act clueless and with a big smile of his own, he watched you curl up in laughter over his ridiculous act. He could only think of how much he missed your smile and beautiful laugh. 

𝄞 Seeing your ex at the mall was a surprise both for him and them. Ford was scanning the shelves in search of something to get you when they approached them. “Sir, do you need any he…” Their words die in their throat when they register who they’re talking to. Ford hasn’t made the correlation yet, his attention so wrapped up in finding you the perfect gift. “Do you need any help?” They repeat, their voice cracking. Ford lazily looks over to them, dismissing them before looking back. Then, a look of recognition washes over him and he whips his head over to them. “You!” He loudly yelled. Customers in the store glance over to them. “Mr. Pines, keep it down.” They stressed out, teeth gritted together. “I will–.” An idea came to mind. “I’m sorry.” He rolled his shoulders back, untensing them. They look to the side, uncomfortable with the sudden change. “You’re sorry?” They repeat in disbelief. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way.” A strained smile pulled to his face as he bid goodbye. Stepping out of the store, he sees you happily munching on a blueberry muffin you bought from the bakery. “Hi, Dad! You got anything?” He looks around you. “Do you have any food?” You place your muffin down on the table and grab the bag full of treats. “Yeah. I got some–” Ford dipped his hand in the bag and pulled out a cookie. His other hand digs into the inner pockets of his coat and pulls out a vial of pink sprinkles. “I knew I was going to use this at some point.” He mutters to himself, popping off the cork. “What are you doing?” You ask, watching as he sprinkled it onto the cookie.

𝄞 “You’ll see.” He winks at you before scooping it off the table and walking back into the store. Minutes later, he comes out with a big sinister smile on your face. “What did you do, Dad?” He pointed at the entrance of the store and it didn’t take long to see what he did. A flamingo human-like creature erupted into the store, squawking crazily as their head desperately swiped from side to side, looking for someone. Their black beady eyes landed on you and Ford. An angry squawk was heard from them, their chicken like legs slapping on the floor as they charged at you and Ford. “Run!’ Ford grabbed your wrist and darted away. In a quick swiping motion, you grabbed your bag full of treats before being whisked away. Loud bird noises were heard behind you and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Who is that chasing us?” Ford took a quick turn into another store, shuffling past people and hiding in a discreet corner with you. “That may be your ex angrily chirping at us.” You clapped your palm onto your mouth, an effort to muffle the laughter that left you. “Of course you’d do something like that!” The rest of the day was stealthily trying to escape the mall without being pecked to death by a very angry flamingo. When you did, you were laughing all the way to the car. “Do you always have that around for times like this?” Ford nods. “You’ll never know when you need to make someone a flamingo.” The automatic slide door pulls apart. “Pines!” The now fully turned flamingo human hybrid squawked out. “Get in the car, hurry!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added to my taglist :3

[sosa2imagines]

For the Dad Bucky ask, if this hasn’t been asked already. Bucky having to handle a toddler just learned to walk and getting into everything because of course toddlers love to explore when they learned how to move around more efficiently.

Congrats on 500+ followers hope you reach another milestone of followers before 2025.

Warning- Pure fluff.

Disclaimer- Thank you so much @iwudbutnah and I really loved the idea!!!!! I hope you like this.

Bucky walked into the living room, and laid a large rug on the ground underneath the play set he had put in the corner.

A colorful playmat with a large tree and animals was centered on the rug.  His daughter had just learned to walk, and each step was a triumphant declaration of her newfound freedom.

Despite Bucky's meticulous efforts to baby-proof the house, his daughter had a talent for finding the one spot that wasn’t completely secured.

Bucky had just finished setting everything, when he heard a thump behind him. He whirled, arms already held in a defensive position, only to find that it was just his baby girl, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Bucky's heart raced as he saw his daughter, barely a year old, gleefully tossing Tupperware lids onto the tiled kitchen floor.

Each clatter sent a wave of panic through him. He could imagine your face, glaring at him. He hurried over to her, careful not to move too quickly, but his mind was already running through all the worst-case scenarios. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he said, scooping her up, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Let's get you set up with something a little less... destructible.”

Bucky quickly snatched up the last few Tupperware lids and placed them back in the cabinet. He had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when he noticed his daughter staring intently at the toaster. Her tiny hands were reaching out, trying to press the buttons and twist the knobs. 

Bucky quickly scooped his daughter into his arms, preventing her from reaching the toaster. His heart pounded as he thought of the potential dangers.

“No, no, no,” he said gently, lifting her up to eye level. “The toaster is for grown-up hands only. You can't play with it, okay?”

His daughter looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, giving him a gummy baby smile, completely oblivious to the danger. “Pa!”

Bucky couldn't help but smile back at his daughter's gummy smile. Her giggle was contagious, making his heart feel inexplicably light. He lifted her up and carried her over to her pile of colorful blocks, setting her down gently.

“Here we go, kiddo,” he said, ruffling her hair lovingly. “Let's play with your toys instead.”

His daughter's eyes widened at the sight of her blocks, and she immediately set to work, pulling them out of the basket and slamming them down on the floor.

Bucky watched as his daughter played with her blocks, but it was clear her attention was fleeting. Within minutes, she had lost interest and begun crawling off in search of her next adventure.

He quickly followed her, wary of what she might get into next. He was surprised at how quickly she could move, he couldn't even blink without her ending up at a new spot in the room.

Bucky's heart skipped a beat as he saw his daughter's next destination, the bathroom. She had already pulled herself up to a standing position and was now attempting to reach the faucet on the sink.

He lunged forward, his hands grasping her just as she managed to turn the faucet on. Water splashed everywhere, but thankfully, he had managed to prevent a full-fledged flood.

“Whoa, kiddo,” Bucky said, holding her in his arms again. “Bathrooms are off-limits, remember?”

Bucky sighed in relief that he had averted the bathroom disaster, only to find that his daughter had already moved on to her next target. She was headed straight for the bookshelf in the corner.

Bucky was all too familiar with this tactic. His daughter loved pulling books off the shelf and flinging them onto the floor. It was a never-ending battle to keep the bookshelf stocked and tidy.

He hurried over, scooping her up again just as her tiny hands reached out to tug at a spine.

“No pulling books, princess,” he said firmly, looking down at her with a stern expression.

She giggled, completely unfazed by his disapproval, and tried to twist out of his arms. She was getting stronger each day, and Bucky was starting to feel like he was wrestling with a tiny tornado.

Despite the chaos she was causing, Bucky couldn't help but smile at his daughter's mischievous antics. He knew this was just part of being a parent, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

“You're a handful, you know that?” he said, trying to sound disapproving but failing. “But you're my handful, and I wouldn't have it any other way.”

Later on, Bucky's heart filled with warmth as he glanced down and saw his daughter trying to shove a pair of his socks into the laundry machine. She was holding one sock in each hand, giggling as she attempted to force both into the small opening.

“Trying to do laundry, huh?” Bucky crouched down next to her, a smile pulling at his lips despite the mess she was making.

Throughout the day, Bucky remained steadfast and patient, keeping up with his daughter's endless antics. He was like a one-man cleaning crew, tidying up after her as she moved from one hazard to the next.

But despite the chaos, Bucky couldn't help but feel a deep well of affection for her. Each giggle and mischievous glance reminded him how lucky he was to be her father.

As the day wore on, her energy level slowly began to dwindle. The endless exploring and playing had finally caught up with her and she began to yawn, rubbing her eyes.

Bucky noticed the change in her demeanor and quickly scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. “Looks like it's time for a nap, kiddo,” he said, his voice softer now.

Bucky gently placed her in the crib, and stood over, watching his daughter's small chest rise and fall with each breath. His heart filled with an overwhelming tenderness as he looked down at her peaceful face.

The adventures had taken their toll on both parent and child. Bucky's muscles ached from the nonstop chasing and tidying, but the exhaustion was nothing compared to the love that filled his heart.

He finally sat down, the quiet of the apartment almost surreal after the whirlwind of the day. His phone buzzed, a message from you. “How's it going?”

He snapped a picture of their sleeping daughter and sent it back with a caption: “Exhausted but victorious.”

You were quick to reply, “You are the best dad in the whole world.”

As he read the text, in that moment, surrounded by the chaos of toddler exploration, Bucky knew he wouldn't trade this journey for anything.

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

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@bucks-babe @lolzies123r @kandis-mom @purplecolordeer @avioletkurt

@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss

[redbird-tf]

Chamomile tea 

Dean winchester x (hunter ) sister reader

Summary: being alone for so long you’ve gotten used to only relying on yourself, a mindset that Dean starts to chip away at. 

Word count: 740

Notes: being creative is hard

Warnings: none

You sniffled, reaching across the table for a new tissue. You blew hard before discarding it in the bin with the dozen others.“Fever not letting up?” You jumped at Dean's voice, You weren't quite accustomed to having company around yet. The three of you were still navigating this new dynamic, which was proving easier for some than others. Just a few months ago Sam and Dean were the dynamic hunter duo, while you still navigated the world solo. You could still vividly recall the moment when John had announced the secret he had buried for years, the secret forced out because of a hunt.

——————

You remembered the look of shock that overtook everyone’s face and the screaming match that ensued between Sam and John. You could recall standing silently in the corner, feeling Dean gaze upon you from ten feet away. Once the job was done and John disappeared again you expected life to go back to normal, you couldn’t have anticipated the brothers to take you under their wing. “Family looks out for each other” Sam had stated to you, a mentality that you would come to learn.

What you hadn’t seen that night was the quiet devastation Dean had unleashed. He couldn’t pick a fight with John like Sam could, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry. His entire life he’d been forced into the role of a guardian for his little brother, and now to find out he had a sister—who had been alone in this life—turned that protective instinct into a fierce storm of emotions. The guilt of failing as brother was sallowing him whole and the rage towards John for keeping the truth from him boiled over. Least to say When they checked out, the motel room bore the scars of his turmoil.

——————-

“I'm fine” you stated blankly in response, your attention turning back to the lore book in your lap. You weren’t purposely being stubborn, to you it was true. You had gotten sick before and you'd get over it, no big deal. Dean didn't respond and carried on with his business in the kitchen. The sound of pouring liquid reached your ears, but it didn’t smell like his usual coffee so you assumed he was having a drink. Hearing what sounded like a spoon hitting the side of a ceramic mug you raised your head in confusion. Unfortunately, his back was turned to you, blocking your view of what he was conjuring up.

When he started to turn around, your eyes darted back to your book only looking up when hearing the soft clink of a mug being placed in front of you. You watched the steam rise, a sweet and sour aroma filling the air. “Is that chamomile tea?” A softer voice chimed in as Sam entered the room. “Not for you,” Dean stated firmly, taking a seat across from you. You stared at the drink “What is it?” You asked raising an eyebrow. “Tea, honey for a sore throat, and some lemon for the headaches” Dean explained leaning back in his chair. “Thats pure witchcraft right there, can fix anything!” Sam exclaimed pointing at the mug. “Drink up sis” sam encouraged, brushing his hand over your shoulder on his way to the door.

“You didn't have to do that,” you said softly to Dean. “I used to make them all the time for Sam, it's no big deal,” Dean reassured you. You fidgetedwith the edge of a page. “I'm not dying Dean.” Your tone came off defensive causing Dean to sit up straight. “You don't have to be dying, for someone to make you a cup of tea kiddo” his words prompted you to lift your head to meet his gaze. “I didn't mean…” your words trailed off, unable to defend your previous statement. “I'm your big brother, it's my job to look out for you.” He said with a stern tone. You could only stare at him in silence trying to comprehend his words. “I know it hasn't always been like that, but it is now. I've been a big brother for a long time and Sam’s still learning. i know you are too—just…” he took a deep breath “Let me do this for you, ok?” You nodded silently, noticing how his softened eyes contrasted with the weight of his words.

Without knowing what to say, you lifted the mug to your lips. The warmth of the citrus tea seeped into your chest, and you felt your tense muscles start to relax much like the protective wall you’ve built beginning to chip away. You gently placed the mug down, catching a glimpse of the small smile on Dean's face. “Thank you, Dean” you responded with a smile of your own. He didn’t respond with words instead, he stood up from the table, patting you on the shoulder as he passed by. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when looking down at the mug in front of you.

———————-

[isadollie]

Hello! I saw your headcanon requests are open, could I request headcanons for husband! and dad!Kenma (with fem wife reader). Kenma is such a sweetheart, I feel like family life with him would be so cute. If possible, I'd like the baby to be a little boy that looks so much like Kenma, but I'd be happy with whatever you write. I hope that is ok. Tysm <3

husband! and dad! Kenma [headcanons]

fem!reader, post-timsekip ofc, just pure fluff i guess lol

★ he never really imagined to have kids of his own but.. here he is

★ when he first found out you're pregnant was like super scared lol

★ "how am i supposed to take care of a baby when i barely manage to take care of myself"

★ ...ouch.

★ anyway..

★ first thing he did was to call Kuroo and ask what he should do

★ was just so clueless

★ kept on repeating he's gonna mess it up

★ but he didn't!

★ a few months into your pregnancy, he was already a pro at taking care of you lol

★ he became soo excited, but like.. internally. he's not really the type to jump around and shout in happiness yk

★ decided to keep it a secret from his fans, cause he wanted to ensure that both of you are safe

★ first thing he bought for the baby was a tiny cat onesie with like little ears you know

★ also bought some family friendly video games...

★ ...and tiny headphones with a mic (where did he get that tho--)

★ but then his baby is born and he's like:

★ kinda have a feeling like it was his first time seeing a baby this small in general

★ is definitely too nervous to hold his son at first

★ super anxioussss

★ but then with time he learns

★ he's a good dad!!

★ i can defo picture him napping with his son lol

★ also he learned to cook when you were pregnant so that you could rest more

★ now uses this knowledge to feed the two of you

★ my boy had to get a whole bookshelf for cooking books and how-to-take-care-of-a-baby books

★ nah jk he looked it all up online

★ i think he'll be very protective too

★ like when your son grows up a bit, there is absolutely no way that Kenma will let him cross the road unless he holds his hand 😤

★ also you have to stop him a bit cause he would buy this kid everything he asked just like that

★ "daddy look! *points to the car toy he sees in the shopwindow* it's so cool!"

★ and then next day you see a whole ass car in front of your house... not a toy.

★ it's both funny and annoying to be honest

★ in the end you did keep the car though

★ whenever someone mentions that his son looks just like him he would be SO PROUD

★ his whole phone gallery is now basically photos of the three of you and your pets

★ would scoff at Kuroo anytime he calls himself an "uncle" or even worse "the coolest uncle"

★ to sum it all up, Kenma never thought of becoming a father but now that it actually happened... he's thinking of having another kiddo :P

this was actually so much fun to write!!! thanks for the request :3

[babygirl-riley]

Hii so I got a request, could you do Dad!simon coming home and his wife thinks he’s alone but he came home with the task 141 and his daughter woke up going downstairs to go see her father she goes to his lap wondering why his mask is still on and falling asleep on his chest. Thank you!

Home Sweet Home

Simon came clean with his team about having a family. Let alone having a family for 4 years. So why not visit since the holiday is coming up?

A/N: Just the thought of a small child in his arms with his mask on 😭 It’s just so sweet to think of! Hope you enjoy this one anon. 🖤

“What I was living for all along. What I’ve been waiting for.”

taglist

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family

Warnings: fluff, family things, just pure happiness, verrrry small angst, husband!simon, dad!simon

Simon was hesitant once he parked the truck into his driveway. Both of your driveway. He didn’t tell you, it was last minute. The boys shouldn’t have known about them wanted to selfishly keep you and the girls away. Other side is danger. The danger is there and he didn’t want to put more eyes and more pressure on the fact that you all could be in danger.

Yet here he is, getting out of his truck as Price, Gaz, and Soap walked up the driveway. “Damn Lt it’s a nice house,” Soap said looking at the home, the front had a decent size lawn with a tree in the middle. Simon huffed as his eyes caught a present in his hand, he turned to walk towards the door. “Never thought you would be a house man.”

“What did ya think I was?” Simon asked scoffing in amusement.

“Lone apartment Lt.” Soap quipped. “Oi I also got a present for the kiddos,” He paused. “Well I hope they will be able to use it.”

Before he reached the doorknob he turned to look at the lads. “What is it?”

Soap smirked with that devilish glint. “Oh ya like it Lt.”

Gaz chuckled. “That means you gonna hate it Ghost.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed before inhaling deeply. “Maybe ya will Simon.” Price commented smirking as he nodding to the door. “Probably shouldn’ keep her waitin’ mate.”

Simon sighed softly. “It might be there nap time so don’ be too crazy ya?”

Price smiled. “Well we can always meet them another time Simon.”

“Make sure Soap will be in line.” Gaz joked as Soap glared at him and smirked.

“Me?”

“Who else?” Gaz quipped back chuckling when Soap elbowed him.

Simon shook his head before looking at the door. God he hopes that this wasn’t a mistake, he inhaled deeply and opened the door. As he walked in he could smell the cookies that you and the girls to hand out during the holiday. He heard the dishes clatter before the faucet was turned off. “Si?” You said turning the corner that led to the kitchen.

“It’s me.” He responded as the boys clattered in behind him. “And others.”

You chuckled, giving a warm smile. I can see that, just in time for some cookies. Come on I can make some tea.” You looked at Simon, he could feel himself soften more. His chest heating up like it always does when you looked at him.

“Daddy?” Your head snapped towards the stairs that led to the other bedrooms. The middle child standing at the top. Once she processed that it was him she came running down the stairs.

Simon knelt down as she smashed into him hugging him. “Hey sweethear’ you should be in bed.”

“I can’ sleep.” She mumbled holding him tighter as he picked her up. She looked behind him to see the others. “Who are you?”

You chuckled quietly and walked over. You wanted her to take her nap but you also knew that once she saw Simon it was over. “Daddy’s friends, I’ll make a deal you can stay up if you go to bed early.”

She looked at you then Simon and nodded. “Okay.”

“Yes,” You looked behind Simon and saw the man with the mohawk smile huge. “S’rry ma’am just excited to meet ya. Johnny.” Switching the present over to another hand to lift his up to you, as the one in the cap shook his head and chuckled softly.

You smiled as you shook his hand. “You can put the present underneath the tree there.” You said pointing the direction with your head.

Simon going past you to talk quietly to Allison. Johnny heading to the tree to place it nicely next to the others. You looked at the one with the cap. “Kyle, beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” You said shaking his head as well then you turned to the man with an unusual facial hair.

“John,” He said smiling and shaking your hand. “Price is fine though.”

You smiled and nodded. “Good Johnny and John will be a good way to have my memory skills be tested.” Price chuckled and nodded. “Well come on then boys.” You said guiding them to the kitchen.

As they paraded behind you, Simon watch as Soap walked up to him and Allison. “My name is Johnny, what’s yours?”

Allison looked at Simon and smiled then to him. “Ya Soap! Daddy likes to talk about ya sometimes!”

Simon’s eyes widened and felt his face go red. Soap laughed and looked at Simon giving him the look of ‘oh you won’t hear the end of this.’ “Oh really now? Dats good to know.”

“In the kitchen Johnny.” Simon said grumbling. Johnny laughed again turning to the kitchen.

“I’ll save ya a seat Simon.” He said back his voice more like he sang it.

Before Simon took a step Allison tapped his cheek. Getting his attention. “Ya have ya mask on daddy.”

Simon looked down at her as she smiled up at him. He didn’t even register it, usually he takes it off before walking in the home. Before the girls he would wear it for a couple of hours of coming home, you understood never telling him to take it off. Never pried. So when Allison mentioned it he froze, he wanted to keep it on. “Daddy is gonna keep it on for a bit longer yeah?” She nodded and jumped a bit in his arms.

“Okay, I want to get mine!” She said excitedly.

Simon chuckled. “Not now, we don’ wanna wake ya sister.”

Allison sighed and leaned into him. “Fine after nap time?”

Simon headed to the kitchen and nodded once. “Yes after naptime.”

As Johnny promised there was a seat next to him. So Simon sat next to him still having Allison on his lap. It was an odd experience, everyone talking and laughing. Johnny would be talking about random things about what they do out in the field. Nothing over PG related at least. Allison would as questions about where they have been, what they do, and if they seen bunnies. Something a 4 year old would ask.

He would tell you about how Simon has this picture of you and the girls that ratted him out. You laughed at Johnny when he mentioned about how he panicked and tried to tell that it was just a picture. Then Gaz found out. Then Price did. Now they were here.

“Hope we didn’t intrude Mrs. Riley.” Price said adjusting in his chair as he took a bite out of a cookie.

You shrugged as you shook your head. “Not at all. We don’t get visitors often.” You smiled looking down at Simon who nodded. You noticed he still had his mask on, never took it off besides lifting it to take a drink out of his tea.

“Your cookies are amazing. How do you make them?” Gaz asked grabbing another cookie off a plate.

You laughed coming behind Simon to take a look at Allison. “That’s a secret Kyle,” When you made eye contact with a sleeping child you looked at Simon. Simon could smell your shampoo, something he missed, something that calmed him. “Simon?”

Simon looked at you, he noticed that you had said something and he didn’t know what you said. “Say that again.” He whispered.

You giggled. “Do you want to put sleeping beauty to bed or you okay with how she is?”

Simon didn’t even noticed that she was passed out. Mouth open, hands gripping his sweatshirt, snuggled deep onto him. Simon shook his head. “I’ll keep her here.”

You smiled and nodded. “I thought so.” You patted his shoulder tenderly.

Price smiled at this interaction, never has he seen his lieutenant so soft. He could even tell through his mask. Price watched as Simon held Allison closer to his chest once they noticed that she was indeed passed out. Price made eye contact with Simon who just gave a nod before getting back into the conversation.

“Ya have to let me know how the girls like the present.” Johnny said as Simon and you walked the boys out.

Simon, who was still holding the sleeping child, was about to say something snarky. Before you said something. “Whatever you got I’m sure it’s going to be loved.” You smiled as you looked at Simon.

Kyle chuckled. “Pretty sure the lieutenant is gonna love it as well.”

“You know what it is?” You asked looking at him.

“Nah just know Johnny likes to see how many buttons he can press.” Kyle said patting his shoulder as Price opened the door. “Thank you for having us again.” You thanked him for coming as he head out the door.

Johnny looked at his lieutenant. “Ya gonna love Lt. Just like ya how ya love me.”

Simon scoffed. “Tha’ really little Sargent.”

Johnny smirked before turning to head out the door. “That’s not what ya little one said.”

Simon glared as he left before Price placed a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you again, next time we will let you know when we come by.”

You smiled placing a hand on his. “It was enjoyable today. We have to do this again.”

Price smiled and nodded then looked at Simon. “See you later son.”

Simon nodded. “Yes sir.”

And with that they left, you shut the door and locked it. “They are kind men Simon.” You said looking over at him then at Allison. “Want to watch some movies while we wait for the monsters to wake up.”

Simon’s chest warmed up, he looked at you with your smile. Just your natural beauty would have him spiraling into a frenzy. “Hm, yeah but Alls might put me to sleep when we sit.”

You smirked. “I wouldn’t blame you, have a personal blanket,” You walked up to rub her back. “She missed you.”

Simon nodded and held her even tighter. He always misses his girls, always finds something that will remind him of one of them. Always tries to bring back some trinket. Something that tells them that even if he is gone for a while that he loves them. “I did too.”

You kissed his cheek. “I will grab blankets.”

It didn’t take long to grab blankets but once you came back Simon had Allison on his chest and was passed out with her. Simon had taken his mask off placing it underneath his head. You smiled and placed the blanket over the both of them. You placed a kiss on both their foreheads. You smiled and just thought of how lucky you were to have such a beautiful family.

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 17 (ENGWNT)

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

When you first joined the Lionesses, they thought you were just overwhelmingly shy. They noticed the way that you scooted away everytime someone sat near you, the way you would only take something from someone if there was no way your fingers could touch. They chalked it all up to you just being nervous- you were at your first senior camp with players who were a fair bit older than you. It would have been more surprising if you weren’t nervous. 

But, as the days went by, they watched you settle in. Your personality and energy shone through, constantly making the girls laugh. Your aversion to touch, though, stayed. 

The girls took it as a personal task to get you to not only tolerate, but enjoy, touch. They weren’t going to cross any boundaries, make you do things that made you uncomfortable, but they wanted to be able to show you their love. It was such a touchy team, it just made sense. 

—-

The first time they attacked, you were almost asleep. It was strategic, your defenses were down. You were laying on part of a bed, the rest of the team spread out throughout the room. Georgia was sitting next to you and noticed that your eyes were drooping shut as the night progressed. After the full day of training, you were exhausted. 

As you fight sleep, Georgia sets her hand down gently on your back. She doesn’t go any further than that, not wanting to risk anything, but she lays her palm flat. The room goes silent as they watch, waiting for your reaction. 

You relax under her touch, sleep taking over. 

—-

Alessia chances it next, noticing that you’re struggling before the first game. She can tell in the way that you hold yourself, the way that you move, that you’re a bundle of nerves for your debut. After watching your hands shake as you reach for a brush, she decides to intervene. 

“Y/N,” she calls, “c’mere for a second.”

You do as requested, moving to stand in front of where she sat on the bench. You look at her. 

“Why don’t you take a seat and let me do your hair? Just tell me how you want it.”

It’s a casual offer, one that she would extend to any member of the team. There’s a deeper meaning behind it, though you’re too occupied to see it. 

Wordlessly, you pass your brush to Alessia. Taking your silence in tune, Alessia gets to work on your hair. 

—-

Leah follows. It was at the next camp, and you were warming up to the team even more. Today, as team bonding, everyone was going shopping. 

It had started fun, a whirlwind of activity as everyone voiced their input as to what stores to visit. After a few hours and a dozen stores, you were exhausted. The girls noticed. 

“C’mon, pea,” Leah calls back to where you’re falling slightly behind, “move those little legs.”

You whine, not wanting to have to keep up. Why on earth did all of them have legs twice the length of yours. 

Leah chuckled at your reaction, passing the few bags she held over to Beth. Walking back to you, she gently takes the bags in your hands and passes them off. Turning her back to you, she squats down. 

“Alright, hop on.”

You stand there, confused. She turns around, standing up. 

“If you want a ride, kiddo, you better hop on. The Leah train is leaving the station.”

You laugh at the pure stupidity of what she said, but, as she resumes her previous position, you surprise everyone. You surprise yourself, too. You hop onto Leah’s back, wrapping your arms around her neck. Her arms wrap around your legs, standing up. She lets out a ‘choo-choo’ in her best train impersonation, quickening her pace to catch up with everyone. She has to refrain from bragging when you rest your head on her shoulder, eyes heavy. 

—-

The next time begins with an accident, a rooming mixup. Somehow, you were put into a room with Lucy and Kiera. If you had paid more attention, you might have noticed how the two smirked when room assignments were read. You might have noticed how Leah has her own room. But you didn’t, instead focusing on the fact that you’re going to have to share a room with one of the scariest players on the team and her girlfriend. 

The first few nights were fine, but on the fourth night, you wake up panting. A nightmare had plagued your dreams. 

As you regain control of your breathing, you hear a voice. 

“Alright?”

It’s Lucy, you must have woken her up. You stay silent, hoping she’ll fall back asleep. 

She doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I just had a bad dream. It’s silly, really.”

“It’s not silly. Come over here, I want to see you.”

You stand up, moving to stand in the gap between the two beds. Lucy sighs, reaching out one hand to pull you to sit on the side of her bed. 

“You okay now?”

You nod, still slightly shaken. 

“Alright,” it’s quiet for a moment, “get in.”

You think you must have misheard her, looking away from the bedside table you had been focused on. As your eyes reach her, you notice the corner of the blanket she has pulled back. 

You open your mouth, going to protest. 

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” Lucy cuts you off. 

You shrug, unsure. 

“That’s what I thought, get in. Come get some more sleep.”

Not waiting for an answer, Lucy pulls you to lay next to her. You squirm in the bed, trying to get comfortable, but you can’t. 

Lucy tugs you over top of her, settling you in between her and the sleeping woman on the other half of the bed. It’s warm here, the blankets soft. The pillow’s comfortable, and it’s safe. Before you realize what’s happening, you’re falling asleep. 

Lucy triumphantly takes a picture. 

—-

The first time you initiate contact is a special moment in so many ways. You just scored your first goal for the national team and you’re shocked. After realizing that- yes, the ball went in- you ran to your teammate. You jump on them, forming the base of a group hug. Everyone’s latched around you, cheering and congratulating you. 

[mokulule]

A Pinch of Salt - snippet 2

Okay, so I have been reminded by @clockwayswrites that I could post some things instead of just hoarding them like the dragon in my icon. So here ya go. Maybe I'll even get around to updating Catnip in the coming days who knows. Previous

Fuck, Danny cursed internally as he struggled to keep up with the long-legged stride of Trenchcoat. Whatever had happened to that ghost to make it into something like that was not good, he needed to do something! But as long as Trenchcoat was here he couldn’t exactly do as he usually would: transform and punch it. The man had seemed very ready to do something to Danny and the unspeakable soul situation going on had Danny extremely leery of finding out what that something was.

At least getting eaten seemed unlikely from the man’s earlier horrified response.

So running.

They went down a hallway, up a staircase, down another hallway and into a would have been shop. They stopped for a moment in the square space catching their breath. Trenchcoat let go of him to go peek back around the corner. Finally Trenchcoat’s shoulders relaxed.

“We lost it for now.” Actually it was more like the ghost lost interest in them; as they’d gotten further and further away from the central plaza of the mall the ghost had stopped following them. Not that Danny was going to tell Trenchcoat that. He had no idea how he’d explain it in a way that didn’t make him extremely suspicious. His hair was dripping salty water making it hard to forget he’d already been assaulted twice - he did not wanna know what else the man stored up his sleeves.

Preferably, somehow he’d get Trenchcoat to leave.

The moment of inattention cost him as he was grabbed once again by Trenchcoat and towed through the would-maybe-someday be a store to a door in the back. This led to a store room and a door to the outside. It was unlocked it turned out and Danny realized this was probably how the man had gotten in.

“Alright, kiddo, time to leave.”

Trenchcoat opened the door and pushed at Danny’s back.

“No way!” Danny exclaimed digging his heels in.

“Yes way,” Trenchcoat mocked, “go home kid, I’m a professional.”



 There was no way Danny was leaving, not at this point. Ghosts were his area of expertise - or well, Danny couldn’t really claim to be an expert, but they were his responsibility at least! He had a unique skillset and no matter what Trenchcoat claimed, he did not look any sort of professional. He made his opinion of his claim known by giving the man his most dubious look.
 - 
John hated teenagers and this teenager in particular.

He didn’t know what it was about teenagers, but they were just merciless in their judgment in a way adults were probably usually too polite to be. In any case that little up and down there, with the slightly raised eyebrow made him feel like he’d worn a clown costume to an accounting job.

“Bloody Hell, will you just leave before I decide to feed you to the specter!”

The boy crossed his arms, standing his ground. “You can try.”

John dragged a hand down his face, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“What are you even doing here?” “I’m here for the ghost.” Plain, even, said with not a smidge of hesitation. “You’re here for the-“ John cut himself off, hands opening and closing, inwardly cursing children and their stupid dares. “And what pray tell where ya gonna do when you found the ghost?”“I figured I’d try talking to them.”“You what?!” John spluttered. He’d expected him to say he hadn’t expected to find a ghost, there went his theory of this being a dare.

“There is no talking to that!” He pointed vaguely in the direction they’d lost the spectral storm. “Of all the sodden-“

“Them.”

John’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?” “Them. They are a them, not an it or a that.”

John opened and closed his mouth. Was he really getting a lecture on pronouns?

“It is a spectral storm. Whatever poor spirit it used to be, is not there anymore. There’s no mind there, it’s pure emotion out of control. There’s no way back from that.”

The boy scowled at him, clearly disagreeing. It didn’t matter. 
John pointed at the door.

“Leave.” “No.” They stared at each other neither giving an inch.

Urgh, this had to be why Batman was so grumpy all the time. John could not do this. He threw up his hands and turned around. He worked around things, not through them and here he was engaging in the folly of arguing with a bloody teenager.

“Suit yourself.”

Gods, he needed a smoke. He’d hardly finished the thought before he was pulling the package of smokes out of its pocket with practiced ease. He was lighting the smoke by the time he noticed the unimpressed look he was getting. Satisfied, he took a deep drag and slowly breathed out the smoke. The kid grimaced and John smirked.

“Those are gonna kill you.” “As opposed to the rest of my lifestyle?” He returned with a nod in the direction of the Storm that probably couldn’t kill him, but the kid didn’t know that. Satisfied at the way the kid’s nose scrunched, he walked back the way they came from.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Kid asked falling in step with him, and John just knew he was being annoying on purpose with that tone of voice. He was not gonna bite. He was an adult. He kept his gaze straight ahead as the kid started guessing.

“Excorcist? Ghostbusters wannabe?”

There was a pause, then a flash of a sly smirk John only caught because he’d stopped to look down the hallway.

“Ectologist?” The suggestion hit John like a metaphysical sledgehammer and he recoiled in disgust.

“Fuck. No.” He shuddered an extra time as if that would remove the oily feeling. “I’m an occult detective. You happy now? Shit kid, you don’t pull your punches do you?”

-

“So what’s the plan, Trenchcoat?”

“Trenchcoat,” John mouthed to himself before shaking his head. “The plan is you keep out of the way and I deal with the raging ghostie.”

“Yeah, no, you’re gonna do better than that. This is not my first time dealing with a ghost. But I don’t know what occult detectives do.”

John pondered the statement about this not being the first time he’d dealt with a ghost, and maybe there was something to the death magics he gave off after all. He groaned internally, why was he doing this?

“Standard practice, kid. Contain and banish.” He held up first one finger then two.

Danny rolled his eyes. It didn’t sound too different from his approach to ghosts, he caught them and sent them back to the ghost zone, but Mr Occult Detective didn’t exactly carry around a Fenton thermos.

“And how do you contain? No,” he offset the clearly sarcastic response. “I mean what are your requirements?”

Trenchcoat rolled his eyes, but humored him.

“I need a large enough open space and a small moment of preparation, then just gotta lure it in and do a binding spell.”

Danny narrowed his eyes and looked towards where he felt the raging storm of ghost energy. “Like the plaza.”

“Ideally yes.”

“So you need a distraction.” Danny started walking. A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going? If you’re so insistent to stay, you’re not leaving my sight.”

Danny shrugged off the hand and turned around.

“The plaza is the center of the their power. You need someone to lure them away.” Danny watched the emotions flash across the man’s face with a small bit of amusement. He really didn’t want Danny involved if he could help it. Finally the man’s face settled on exasperation.

“I will figure something out.”

Danny smiled, taking a step backwards.

“No, you will give me a ten minutes headstart to lure our ghost friend far enough away they won’t immediately notice your stench so close to the heart of their haunt.”

As if sensing his intentions Trenchcoat made another grab for him which he dodged. And then he ran. He was sure it was only the threat of the ghost that prevented the man from yelling after him.

He just hoped he’d listened, because Danny was about to go piss off an already raging spirit. Trenchcoat better be ready.

Fun times.

[tinylullabies]

caregiver who keeps reminding their baby to be on their best behavior because christmas is a month away, the little angel just don’t know that their carer is planning on spoiling them either way cause how could they not . . . ?

wearing matching reindeer pajamas as they bake cookies and add the finishing touches to their christmas tree . . . !

kiddo reminding their dad / mom to leave out the cookies and milk for santa, tiny one who’s so hyper and excited that they slip deeper into their headspace out pure excitement / happiness as the time tick closer to midnight :(

baby who fell asleep early in the night because their dada / mama rocked them to sleep and couldn’t resist dozing off while in their carer’s arms, spending their first christmas eve together . . . — ♡

[monzamash]

tears and scraped knees — daniel ricciardo

fatherhood is about learning the art of letting go. dad!daniel ricciardo x you | 2k warnings – cute shit, mentions of injuries and swearing. masterlist

She was the light of his life the moment she entered it, screaming the house down and crying her lungs out. Pure love personified. She was the apple of his eye, the most precious gift he had ever been given and simultaneously the reason for the grey hair speckling his dark curls; the ones identical to hers. Like him, she was a firecracker, the joker, and the life of the party everywhere she went; smile bright, eyes warm. A rich chestnut brown, flecked with yellow, charming and stunning just like his.

To Daniel, she was your little twin. Your beauty was reflected in her in different ways – in her long locks and dark sense of humour, her tenacity and moral compass. She was strong like you, stoic in her beliefs and confident in her skin.

Smart, magnetic, a bit book-ish like you.

Sporty, energetic and kind like him.

Looking at your daughter was a daily reminder that he was half him and half you – a beautiful symbol of your love, your miracle.

“How ya doin’ back there kiddo?”

“Fine,” She mumbled under her breath, eyes focused on the perfect distraction from the morning ahead – her phone. 

You and Daniel shared a knowing glance; traffic building at the lights as you waited for the signal. There was no doubt in your mind that your daughter was saving herself from a stirring speech by bottling up her feelings. Her father was basically a glorified inspirational speaker in his retirement and she had been on the receiving end of too many over the years – each one cheesier than the last, she would confess to you whenever he was out of ear shot.

“Does Dad realise that I’m not one of his rookie drivers? Like, I know what I need to do to win.”

Strong in her convictions, just like him. A carbon copy.

“Remember to keep your elbows out today, especially around that Maddy girl. I know her dad and I reckon she’s dirty like him so watch her at the sta – ouch.”

Your fingernails digging into his forearm cut off Daniel’s spiel, his eyebrows furrowed and silently asking, ‘what the fuck was that for’.

“Just have fun out there, sweetheart,” You interrupted, saving your daughter from her father’s pep-talk, “Keep your elbows tucked in, shoulders with the part like you were taught.”

Daniel sighed and turned his attention back to the busy streets of Fremantle, weaving his way through the traffic like he was back in Monaco, living out the glory days. He was the first to admit that he was living vicariously through her and passionate about what the world had in store for his not-so-little girl. He saw so much of himself in her now, sixteen and on the cusp of what could be.

But you saw things differently to him. Her path wasn’t paved so clearly in your eyes and you made sure that she remained open to whatever life had to bring. She had it all in front of her; possibilities endless with opportunity and success but that didn’t have to be racing. Your dreams for her weren’t as rigid as Daniel’s; his plan to move the family back to the UK had been vetoed by you when your daughter came to you in tears, begging to stay in school and graduate with her friends.

“But babe, those friends don’t last. It’s all just in the moment when this could be her chance at getting her foot in the door,” He argued until he was red in the face.

“Says the guy who just had Blake and his wife around last week for dinner? Come on, Dan – it’s only a year away.”

“Realistically we should’ve moved when she showed an interest in bikes…” He grumbled, frustration simmering behind his closed eyes.

“What? When she was four? Baby, she’s only sixteen but still, she has her dreams set on riding and when the time is right, we will do everything we can to help her make that a reality…”

Your voice was soft; calming as you rounded the dining table and nestled into the open arms of your husband, “Just let her take the lead.”

Daniel dropped his head onto the top of yours and sighed, “You’re right.”

“I almost always am.”

That wasn’t the last conversation you and your husband had about Joey’s future, her grandfather and namesake chiming in with what he thought was the best thing for her budding career. She was the pride and joy of the whole family; everyone saw her talent from a young age but that kind of pressure had to be managed and that had become your life’s work. Her youth had been so hyper focussed on honing her craft that sometimes you felt like she had lost her childhood to the trials and tribulations of racing.

So you put your foot down where you could; namely saving your daughter from having to sit through another car ride hearing all about her dad’s accomplishments and mistakes – hoping she would learn from him but you both knew better than that. She was so young and so ready to make her own mistakes to learn from, like it should be.

She was stronger than both you ever were – a perfect amalgamation of your love.

One of hardest part about race day for Daniel was taking a step back. Of course everyone knew who Joey’s dad was and of course she copped shit for it. Your dad’s a flog and the only reason you’re here is because of him, had been a couple of the unsavoury post-race reports your daughter eventually confessed to you – teary eyed while she begged for you not to tell Daniel but you did because if anyone knew the power of harnessing negative energy, it was your husband.

But the hardest part of all for Daniel was controlling his emotions. He had Italian blood coursing through his veins after all, passionate and fiercely protective of both his girls. Once Joey came along, you knew the papa bear within that had been lying dormant would arise and alas, you were right. All of those crazy nights in bars all around the world, fighting off sleazy men had prepared him to be a girl-dad.

That side to him was glorious to you, endlessly sexy and usually rendered you useless when he decided to bust out the dad moves but to his teenage daughter, he was a total embarrassment.

“Racing under number 33 is Joey James Ricciardo.”

“Give ‘em hell, JJ!”

Daniel’s loud woo echoed through the small crowd, heads turning in your direction including your daughters and you could sense her scowl under the helmet – mortified.

“Daniel,” You scolded, smacking your husband gently, “She’ll kill us both.”

“I know I know,” He grimaced, “Fuck, I’m sorry – I can’t help it... That’s our baby girl out there.”

The image of your daughter, barely two years old, always flashed in your memory when he said things like that. It reminded you of the weeks spent teaching her how to walk. She was so small but so tenacious and you could see that same proud glimmer in Daniel’s eyes now as he did watching her take her first steps. It was mixed with the same wash of fear he had when he let go of her bike seat down that old gravelled road for the first time, praying to god she didn’t hurt herself and end up with tears and scraped knees.

And sure, that happened. Many Band-Aids and tubes of antiseptic were applied to her bloodied elbows and knees but she was a kid after all, feeling every bump in the road until she found her strengths and soared above the rest. She was as quick as a whip and even faster on track – destined to be her own hero but always inspired by her first.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Daniel mumbled as the two of you waited for the race to begin, his foot tapping on the dead grass and nails already chewed down to the skin.

His white cap was still pulled down, disguised as a promise to his daughter who wanted him to just blend in. Wishful thinking. But there was a time that she didn’t want him to come to her meets, insisting that her life would be so much easier if her dad wasn’t ‘the Daniel Ricciardo’ but you couldn’t buckle on that one.

“Your dad is a strong man but that would kill him, J.”

“But he yells out and brags to all the parents about me and the other kids bully me for it… He doesn’t understand how hard it is being a Ricciardo.”

“Hey,” Daniel’s soft voice startled you both, heads flying towards your daughter’s bedroom door, “If that’s what you want, honey I can stay home.”

She sighed heavily and clutched the lilac pillow on her lap, “I want you there, Dad but people are so mean to me and I just want to be normal for once.”

The mattress dipped as Daniel sat down beside you and reached out for his daughters hands, “You can be anyone you want to be, darlin’ – just say the word and we’ll make it happen. We can be normal… or try to be normal.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your husband and give him a teasing nudge, “Try being the operative word.”

Daniel smiled and shrugged, “I’ll even wear a disguise. How about that?”

And here you were, hidden behind a couple of gum trees watching your daughter flying through the air and making her fathers hair greyer with every passing second. She was a force to be reckoned with and karmic retribution for all the years you spent white knuckling in garages across the globe.

“Now you know how I felt back when you were racing. Karma is a bitch, my love.”

“Maybe encouraging her to do this was a bad idea after all…” Daniel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his shaky fingers as you slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“This is sleepover camp all over again. You have to learn how to somehow let her go and spread her wings. That’s all she ever says to me, you know? I wanna be like dad – not afraid, free.”

“I didn’t even realise she felt like that…”

You softly smiled at your husband and pressed a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek, “Don’t tell her I told you.”

my hope for this little story is to build a cute world around it. i have a really nice outline for another part of this story so let me know if that's something you would like. and thank you to @vetteltea for her supportive nudge to post this x

[scoonsalicious]

Unsatisfied, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: Following the epilogue to Unwanted, you and Bucky finally have your first night together in your new apartment. You haven't had sex with him in an entire year. You are feeling... unsatisfied.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, mentions of past trauma, Pocket has a panic attack, she is not as okay as I thought, Cards Against Humanity, Bucky making dirty promises I fully intend for him to keep.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: My goal tonight was to work on WFLT. I had good intentions, I swear. But, I can't get Bucky and Pocket out of my mind. THEN, this was supposed to be smut. Pure, filthy smut. WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!

You loved your found family, you really did. Or, at least that’s what you kept reminding yourself as you actively tried to convince yourself not to kill them right this second.

You made eye contact with Bucky from where he sat on the loveseat across the living room from you, looking about as sexually frustrated as you felt. You ran a finger delicately along your collarbone as you watched him adjust himself in his seat, and as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, you–

“Hey, Kiddo,” Tony Stark called your attention to where he sat to the left of you. “Pick a Black Card. It’s your turn.”

Reluctantly, you drew your eyes away from your ridiculously attractive boyfriend and up to your psuedo-brother, former boss, who thought it had been a fantastic idea to have your entire team show up with pizzas to your brand new apartment, on your very first night there with Bucky, in order to play fucking Cards Against Humanity as a “morale-boosting exercise.” 

Cock-blocking exercise was more like it. 

You shot Tony a glare and reached across the coffee table to draw a card. Looking at it, you rolled your eyes in frustration before placing it face-up in front of you. “What gets me wet?” you read aloud from the card.

You were met with a room full of snickering as your teammates thumbed through their hands, searching for the best card to give to you. Bucky threw down a card almost immediately, catching your eye as he did so and winking at you. God, you needed everyone to leave so you could climb that man like a tree. 

One by one, your team deposited their White Cards into a pile in front of you, and once everyone had played their hand, you picked them up, shuffling them around so you wouldn’t know who had put down what card. 

You turned each over and read it aloud, asking each time: “What gets me wet?”

“Being a mother fucking sorcerer; Vehicular manslaughter; German Dungeon Porn; My fuckslave, Regianald; Auschwitz– ew; come on guys, really?-- My vagina– okay, actually factual– Dick Fingers; A juicy little booty that goes poot poot pooty; The Biggest, Blackest Dick– hilarious, Sam…”

“What?! You can’t know that’s mine, Baby Girl!” You shot Sam a knowing look. “Yeah, okay, it’s mine, but come on– it’s a good one!” he said with a laugh.

And then, there it was, the winner. You looked up and locked eyes with Bucky, who was smirking back at you with a wicked glint in his eye, and you knew instantly it was his card you were holding in your hand. 

Flipping the card over, you read out loud with a giant smile on your face: “What gets me wet? Genetically engineered super soldiers.” Everyone around the coffee table groaned, knowing that there was no way any of their cards would have topped that. Not for you, anyway.

With a grin, Bucky reached over and took the Black Card, adding it to the pile of his wins in front of him. 

“Ugh, no fair!” Nat pouted, gently tossing her hand of cards on the top of the coffee table. 

“You gotta play to your audience, Nat,” Bucky said, spreading his legs as he leaned back on the love seat. “Can’t help it if I know what my girl likes.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re cheating,” Sam said. His words were meant to be playful, a sore-loser’s teasing lament, but you couldn’t help the rush of heartache those little syllables sent through your system, and your body froze. 

It had been almost a year, you thought to yourself as you tried to breathe through your increasing anxiety without attracting unnecessary attention. A year of therapy and rebuilding trust. You were meant to be over this.

But clearly you weren’t. 

“Excuse me,” you blurted out as you stood up, not bothering to offer an excuse for your rudeness or sudden departure. Trying to keep your breathing steady, you nearly sprinted out of the room and up the stairs until you were shutting the door of the ensuite bath in yours and Bucky’s master bedroom. The room you hadn’t even shared together yet, and now, on your first night in your new home, when you should be celebrating, becoming reacquainted with one another’s bodies, it would be permeated with thoughts of her.

You slid down the door to the cold tile floor, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to shake the memories from your mind’s eye. But they, and your tears, began to fall in earnest. Despite what you knew to be true– that Bucky loved you, had only ever loved you, your mind kept bringing you back to the events of last year– of all the times he abandoned you for her, left you alone when she needed him. The things he had said to you while he was inside of you because she had told him she liked it. The sight of her riding his dick in a derelict safehouse in Russia. Your bones snapping and a bullet ripping through your flesh.

You couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t you breathe?

You shoved your fist into your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your sobs. You were supposed to be over this, you kept reminding yourself. You were supposed to have forgiven him. But the memories brought about a visceral reaction you hadn’t experienced in months. Today had been meant to be a new beginning for the both of you, a fresh start. Something better, you had promised each other.

Why did it still hurt so much? 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed. You could have been hyperventilating on the bathroom floor for minutes or hours; you couldn’t tell, when a soft knock reverberated through the surface of the door.

“Sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Doll, I can hear you crying. Let me in.” His words were soft, understanding, sorrowful. He knew.

You couldn’t move. You wanted to open the door, to lose yourself in his embrace so badly, but you couldn’t control your body enough to coordinate movement. All you could do was hug yourself as you sobbed.

“Pocket,” you heard Bucky murmur through the door. “Baby, I need you to breathe for me, ok? Your gonna make yourself pass out. Just… just unlock the door, alright? That’s all you have to do for me, sweets. Just unlock the door.”

Unlock the door. You could do that. One, simple motion. You slowly lifted a trembling hand above your head, connecting with the doorknob by sense of touch, alone. With shaking fingers, you managed to disengage the lock.

At the sound of the click, you heard Bucky exhale in relief. “Okay. Good girl. I’m gonna come in now, okay, sweets?” You knew you should move– you were still curled up in front of the door, but you couldn’t get your body to cooperate. You tried to speak, but the only sound that came from your throat was another agonizing sob.

You heard the knob turn and the door begin to press against you. With gentle but steady pressure, Bucky opened the door, sliding your body across the bathroom tile in the process, but you barely noticed. He would always be a force that had the ability to move you at his will.

When there was enough space for him to fit his body through the door frame, Bucky squeezed himself in and turned to look behind the door, searching for you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, dropping down to his knees to join you on the tile. In an instant, he had you in his arms, picking you up and cradling you to his chest. 

“I-I-I’m…” you stuttered, trying to form words through your sobs, “s–s–so s-s-sorry.”

Bucky tutted as he stroked your hair. “No, sweets, no. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He kissed the top of your head, and you found that your breathing began to steady in his presence. “My actions keep causing you pain.”

You shook your head vehemently, clutching to the fabric of his shirt as if your very life depended on it. “No,” you whispered. “It’s not… It’s not you.” You closed your eyes, trying to mold your jumbled emotions into a cohesive thought. “This place is supposed to be safe,” you told him, hoping he would follow what you were trying to say. “Ours. And then… when Sam said… that… it was… it was like her ghost walked right in the door. She’s still haunting me, Buck.”

You felt his arms tighten around you. “Sweetheart,” he murmured into your hair, “what do you need? What can I do?”

You wiped at your eyes and looked up at him with a tear-streaked face. “Tell me you love me, Bucky.”

His piercing blue gaze was honest and sincere as he looked down at you. “I love you, Pocket. I have only, ever, loved you.” No questions, no ridiculing your request for reassurance– just pure understanding that this was what you needed from him

You felt yourself exhale, the tension that had been wracking through you ebbing away as you looked into his eyes. “I love you, Buck,” you whispered back. “I’m sorry– I thought… I thought I was better.”

His face was soft as he looked at you. “Doll, you are getting better. It’s a process. We’re a process. And we work on us, together.”

You snorted in spite of yourself as you wiped your nose. “How the fuck did you get so goddamn wise?” you asked him. “It’s mildly annoying.”

“Ah, there’s that dirty mouth I love so much,” he smirked at you. “Come on.” With a gracefulness that belied his massive size, he lifted you up and carried you back into the bedroom, gently placing you on your new bed.

“Oh, shit!” you said, trying to stand up. “Everyone’s still downstairs–”

“I kicked them out as soon as you left the living room,” he told you, coming to kneel before you as he pulled you back down. “Serves them right for interrupting our first night living together when we haven’t touched each other in eight thousand, seven hundred and forty three hours.”

You widened your eyes. “Not that your counting, or anything,” you said with a giggle, and were rewarded when Bucky smirked up at you.

“There’s my girl,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I know we had big plans for tonight,” he said as he rested his vibranium hand on your knee. “And trust me when I tell you, there is nothing I want more than to strip you naked and take you apart on every single surface of this apartment until you can’t remember your own name.” You gulped at that. “But,” he continued, “all that can wait. Tonight, I’m gonna go back into that bathroom, light some candles, and run us a bubble bath. Then, you and I are going to get in that tub and I’m just gonna hold you, okay?” You found yourself nodding dumbly at the sensual promise.

Bucky leaned in close to you, tucking a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. “Tonight,” he reiterated, “I just want us to be close. And then tomorrow?” He leaned in to whisper seductively into your ear. “First thing tomorrow, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

Part 2 ->

[rottenpumpkin13]

I keep thinking about what would happen if the firsts+Turks had to take care of children/babies they had to rescue from a village while they wait on their parents to get them. I feel like it would be a nice mix of pure chaos and wholesomeness.

➜ Genesis gathers the kids around for storytime (don't ask him how he had a children's book readily available on hand), doing exaggerated tones, dramatic gestures, and silly voices that make the kids hang on to his every word. Hearing them beg for "just one more story" makes him feel all warm and gooey inside and he's definitely holding back tears. He also plays dolls with the little girls and teaches them a few swear words because he comes up with telenovela scenarios that are not fit for children but shh focus on the good (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

➜ Zack is like a giant kid himself, so he has no qualms about playing pretend (and taking it seriously, okay? the man will scream his head off if a kid says there's a dragon in front of him and will fight the air). The kids adore him because his energy is contagious. Definitely the most popular with the kiddos but shh don't tell Angeal. But Zack also encourages the kids to climb trees and play in the mud so perhaps he's not the best influence…

➜ Reno, surprisingly, turns out to be a natural with the kids. He’s quick to organize a makeshift sports team with Rude, splitting the children into teams and coaching them through impromptu games…He did pull a whistle out of nowhere and refers to the kids as "snot noses" but he's surprisingly patient as he explains the rules and makes sure everyone is playing fair…until one boy questions his authority and Rude has to hold him back from fighting a child.

➜ Sephiroth is visibly uncomfortable in the presence of so many tiny, inquisitive humans. He tries his best though, answering their endless questions with serious consideration, as if he's in briefing—he refers to the kids as 'sir' and 'ma'am' and they love that he treats them like tiny adults. And then the children start playing with sticks as makeshift swords. He steps in, adjusting their forms and offering practical tips while sharing stories of how he made good use of sticks as weapons when he was a boy…..Ignoring the fact that Sephiroth taught a bunch of kids how to wield stakes, he somehow ends up in a braid train with some older girls. Eventually one child falls asleep in his arms and he refuses to move a muscle. He feels fully responsible for this child now.

➜ Tseng is initially stiff and uncomfortable around the children, but then he encounters a little girl with wide green eyes and a brown hair who reminds him so much of Aerith at that age. He crumbles immediately. Tseng is now playing with dolls and enduring the pang of guilt, remembering how innocent Aerith was, and how much she’s endured since. He pushes the feeling down, focusing on making the little girl laugh, determined to protect her if only for a little while.

➜ Angeal and Cissnei are dealing with the aftermath of Sephiroth teaching the kids how to successfully use sticks to attack each other, and are actively running around confiscating the sticks.

*Zack sees Cissnei taking away a stick from a child* Zack: Aww, what are you? The fun police?? *Angeal is wrestling a stick out of a child's hands in the background—he's losing* Cissnei: Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Someone could get seriously hurt! *Angeal is thwacked in the face with the stick* Zack: Don't be silly! Sticks are great toys for kids! *The child hits Angeal in the shins. He falls down* Cissnei: ….Hm…I guess you're right. Do you want to come help me gather more so we can assemble an army? Zack: Do I! *More children have appeared with sticks to gang up on Angeal. Sephiroth will pay for this dearly*