#so she made a beagle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysfolklore · 29 days ago

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matchmaker - op81

summary: oscar finds a puppy wandering around the streets of monaco that leads him to meet his lucky charm

folkie radio: AN OSCAR FIC FINALLY OMG!!!! i have to say thank you to @cambrayficsrecs for sending this idea !! i LOVED IT and i hope you like this

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 209 others

yourinstagram meet the newest monaco resident: arlo 🤍 swipe to see the goodest boy helping me settle in my new home 🐾

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yourbff HE'S PERFECT!! miss you already but so happy for you 😭

username1 the cutest addition to monaco!!

username2 remember when you said you'd never get a dog? 😂

alexandrasaintmleux my new favorite neighbor!!! can't wait for our puppy playdates 🤍

↳ yourinstagram arlo and leo are going to be bffs 🥹🥹

username3 told you moving to monaco was the best decision

username4 i'm visiting asap just to meet this angel

yourbff2 can't believe my best friend lives in monaco now

username5 you're living the dream with the goodest boy!

username6 look at that face!! when can i visit?

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texts between alex and yn

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 583,827 others

oscarpiastri Enjoyed being a temporary dog dad today 🐾 glad this good boy made it back home safe! might have to get one of my own now...

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username1 MY HEARTTT

username2 OSCAR YOU CAN’T DO THIS

maxverstappen1 Don't let lando see this

↳ landonorris too late. getting a dog.

mclaren Best teammate and dog sitter 🧡

username3 OSCAR WITH A PUPPY THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username4 the wholesome content we needed today

alexandrasaintmleux arlo already misses his rescuer! thanks again oscar 🤍

username5 get this man a dog asap

username6 the way he took care of a stranger's dog 🥺

username7 okay but imagine oscar with his own puppy

username8 JUST GET A DOG

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

yourbff ARLO OMG 🥺🥺 what happened to him?

↳ yourinstagram sneaky little minx disappeared from the balcony.. he’s safe tho

username1 omg poor you! good thing you found him

username2 is this knight in shinning armor who saved arlo cute?

↳ yourinstagram STOP 😭

username3 i need to visit so i can meet arlo

alexandrasaintmleux I could give you his insta… or his number 👀

↳ yourinstagram STOP IT ALEX

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texts between alex and yn

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 28,724 others

yourinstagram turns out the nice guy who found arlo last week also happens to be pretty good at driving cars 🏎️ congrats on p2! @/oscarpiastri

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username1 GIRL WHAT IS YOUR LIFE RN

username2 you move to monaco and suddenly you're in f1 garages???

alexandrasaintmleux told you you'd love f1 🤍

↳ yourinstagram love you !

username3 OMG OSCAR

username4 SHES THE OWNER OF THE DOG

username5 this plot twist though 👀

mclaren 🧡

username6 the way this all started because arlo escaped

charles_leclerc I won you know? 🤔

↳ yourinstagram congrats charles !

username7 YOUR LIFE IS A MOVIE

username8 the best meet cute ever??

oscarpiastri Couldn't have done it without my good luck charm 🐾

↳ yourinstagram arlo says you’re welcome!

username9 IS THIS THE OWNER??

username10 the cutest storyline of the season

username11 THE WAY HE COMMENTED

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oscarpiastri sent you a direct message

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liked by username1, username2 and 14,826 others

f1gossip Oscar Piastri spotted having coffee with the owner of the now-famous beagle puppy in Monaco this morning 👀

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username1 THE WAY THIS STORY KEEPS GETTING BETTER

username2 from rescuing her dog to coffee dates we love this journey

username3 this is better than drive to survive

username4 THEY’RE SO CLOSE HELLO

username5 this is the cutest thing ever help

username6 the fact that the dog is there too 😭

username7 someone check on lando he's losing his bachelor buddy

username8 the good luck charm strikes again

username9 living a wattpad story fr

username10 HE LOOKS SO HAPPY

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 47,935 others

yourinstagram turns out there's more to monaco than just fancy cars 🤍

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username1 THE WAY YOU MOVED TO MONACO AND IMMEDIATELY LIVING A ROMCOM

username2 OSCAR?????

username3 arlo the ultimate wingman

username4 this storyline keeps getting better

username5 OMFG WHAT IS THIS I NEED THE CONTEXT

alexandrasaintmleux told you he was cute 😌

↳ username1 OMFG ALEX

↳ username2 i love her

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂

username6 need full story time asap

username7 the way this all started because she lost her dog 😭

username8 living for this plot development

oscarpiastri arlo approved ✅

↳ username1 OSCAR STOPPPPP

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texts between oscar and yn

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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 986,033

oscarpiastri Great weekend with the team 🧡 Ready to head back home to Monaco though... missing my favorite good luck charm 🐾"

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username1 OSCCCC

username2 is he talking about the dog? 😭

landonorris which one? 👀

↳ oscarpiastri 🤫

↳ username1 HELLO???

↳ username3 DECODE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux someone's eager to get back 😌

↳ charles_leclerc Your matchmaking services working well

↳ username1 LET ME INNNN

georgerussell63 The power of puppy love

username3 WE ALL KNOW WHICH GOOD LUCK CHARM

username4 the way he said "home" to monaco 🥺

username5 did anyone else catch him waving to someone on facetime after the race??

username6 some of this comments saying “the dog” his name is ARLO and he’s an icon

username7 i’m going to call it right now oscar is dating the dog owner

username8 OSC 😩

yourinstagram 🤍

liked by username1, username2 and 8,739 others

f1gossipinsider Straight from Barcelona to dinner in Monaco... Oscar Piastri spotted at Le Grill with a certain someone 👀

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username1 THE WAY HE DIDN'T EVEN GO HOME FIRST

username2 man flew straight from barcelona to take her to dinner i'm crying

username3 not me zooming in to confirm it's her

username4 THATS DEFINITELY YN AND ARLO UNDER THE TABLE

username5 fastest post-race exit we've ever seen

username6 Le Grill?? Man's not playing around

username7 our favorite story continues...

username8 this man SPRINTED from the circuit

username9 the commitment >>>

username10 our boy's got his priorities straight

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texts between oscar and yn

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liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and 45,099 others

yourinstagram turns out watching someone drive in circles for 2 hours isn't so bad after all 🏎️ proud of you @/oscarpiastri 🧡

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username1 OMGGGG

username2 look at little arloooo

francisca.cgomes So lovely meeting you! Welcome to the family ❤️

yourbff we have soooo much catching up to do

carmenmmundt You're a natural! Can't wait for Hungary

alexandrasaintmleux look who's becoming an f1 expert

↳ charles_leclerc Stop taking credit for this

↳ alexandrasaintmleux never 😌

↳ username1 HELLO??

username3 the WAGs adopting her immediately >>

username4 ARE THEY DATING??

username5 oh what a plot twist

username6 THIS IS GIVING ME LIFE

username7 so the key go getting an f1 driver to date you is getting a dog i see

username8 ARLO IS SO CUTE

oscarpiastri Best good luck charms ever 🤍

↳ username1 OSCAR STOP

↳ username2 i simply cannot do this

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texts between alex and yn

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oscarpiastri has added to their stories

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liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 1,099,832 others

oscarpiastri First Grand Prix Win. Incredible 🧡 Thank you to the two lucky charms who changed everything

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 HELLO TWO LUCKY CHARMS ??

landonorris GET IN THERE MATE!! Proud of you 🧡

alex_albon THATS MY BOY

username3 IS HE TALKING ABOUT ARLO AND YN??

username4 im actually sobbing

username5 man won his first race and chose to be THIS cute about it

username6 SOMEONE SAID HE KEPT SHOWING HER THE TROPHY

georgerussell63 CONGRATS OSCO 🙌🙌

username7 from monaco meet cute to whatever this is im crying

username8 THIS IS ADORABLE OSCAR HELLO

username9 not to be parasocial but he's so in love

username10 THE WAY ARLO WAS THERE FOR HIS WIN

yourinstagram we're incredibly proud of you 🤍

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f1gossip From first F1 win to celebration dinner - Oscar Piastri living his best life in Budapest tonight! Sources say he couldn't stop smiling and kept calling her "my girlfriend" to everyone 👀

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username1 OH MY LORD

username2 is this oscar "i don't like pda" piastri??

username3 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username4 the way this all started bc she lost her dog...

username5 I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN TO ME

username6 this is how we find out oscar is not single anymore

username7 EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU ARLO

username8 lord i've seen what you've done for others

username9 the best meet cute in history

username10 THAT SHOULD BE ME

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 60,826 others

yourinstagram home sweet home with my favorite race winner (and his trophy that he definitely didn't make me pack extra carefully) 🏆✨ still pinching myself about this weekend 🧡

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username1 CRYING

username2 the way we all watched this love story unfold

username3 most precious f1 couple no debate

landonorris Mans giving away his caps now?? love's changed him

lilymhe cutest neighbors ever! dinner tomorrow? 🤍

↳ yourinstagram count on it!

username4 LOOK AT ARLOOO I CANT

username5 i can’t believe oscar has a gf now

francisca.cgomes you two are goals honestly

mclaren Our lucky charm is back home! 🧡

username6 remember when she didn't know what DRS was 😭

username7 she's literally living the dream

username8 how to go from dog mom to f1 wag: a novel

alexandrasaintmleux my biggest masterpiece 🥹

↳ charles_leclerc STOP TAKING CREDIT

↳ alexandrasaintmleux NEVER

↳ yourinstagram arlo was the real matchmaker

username9 HOW DO I GET THIS LIFE

username10 they’re so in love i can’t

oscarpiastri My two favorite things in monaco ❤️

↳ yourinstagram three* don't forget the trophy

↳ oscarpiastri Trophy’s just a bonus 😘

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 1,549,022 others

oscarpiastri To the best wingman and matchmaker in F1 - thanks for running away that day in Monaco. Changed my whole life 🐾❤️ (YN says I need to stop spoiling him but look at that face)

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username1 IM FULL PN SOBBING NOW

username2 ARLOOOOO🥹🥹🥹

alex_albon most successful matchmaker in monaco

mclaren Our honorary team member 🧡

username3 i love one fairytale love story

alexandrasaintmleux YOU’RE ALL WELCOME

↳ username1 alex 😭😭

↳ charles_leclerc you're still not getting credit for this

↳ oscarpiastri It was all Arlo

username4 HE CALLED HIM HIS WINGMAN 😭

username5 from runaway dog to f1 power couple

username6 netflix writing this down rn

username7 cupid who? we only know arlo

nicolepiastri ❤️

username8 most iconic f1 meet cute ever

username9 the real mvp of the season

username10 OSCAR DOG DAD

yourinstagram our matchmaker 🤍

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poguehearted77 · 28 days ago

Note

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

1K notes · View notes

theoldsports · 8 months ago

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SPONTANEOUS.

Art Donaldson x Reader

oops. it’s gonna be a series. i’m developing Lore. let me know what you think and where to go next.

warnings: 18+ please, drug use mention, drinking (underage), kinda sexual content.

LINK TO SORRY SERIES

Fancy parties were loathsome. [Y/N] thought so, at least. She hated being told to stop calling them fancy parties and shindigs and to call them by their proper names: galas, benefits, balls, whatever. It was exhausting. Her feet weren’t meant to be elegantly jammed into spike heels. [Y/N] liked the height she was, thank you very much.

Did supporting charitable causes have to feel so degrading?

Capitalism at its finest.

[Y/N] had been attending these things since she was a little girl. Seven or eight years old. So young, in fact, that she now can’t remember what demographic or ailment-research, or political party this goddamn yearly spring shindig was for. Mr. and Mrs. Zweig were always nice to her when she was a child. She wasn’t just a family-friend, she (and her parents) felt like friends that were family.

What made the lavish Zweig parties tolerable was Patrick Zweig. She had known Patrick as long as there had been parties to get dressed up for. He had scraped her off a marbled staircase step as a little girl when her polished pleather mary janes didn’t have the traction to keep her upright. She had cried when she fell. He had said: “you’re really loud, you know that?” And she had laughed. So they were doomed to spend eternity hiding in coat rooms and getting tipsy together at these things.

Patrick was never one of those boys that felt the need to turn his back on [Y/N] during the cooties years, or the so-she’s-your-girlfriend? years. The pair of them always managed to be simply themselves and that was enough. He was merciless and unapologetic, but he made a hell of a best friend.

[Y/N] was two months older than Patrick, and had been taller for their first two years of friendship. When his shift in stature occurred, it happened fast.

Patrick went away to boarding school and came back a gangly beast. [Y/N], though they hadn’t spent every waking moment (weekends and school days) together since he had left her for a racket and a tennis ball, was always pleased to see Patrick was still himself every time he came home. Louder and stupider each time, but still Patrick.

Though, one spring break was different. Eleventh grade, if [Y/N] recalled correctly. Patrick came home, tall and stupid as ever, toting a boy named Art Donaldson.

Art Donaldson was considerably smaller, and debatably less stupid than Patrick Zweig. [Y/N] understood that day why all the girls in her grade giggled about boys. [Y/N] could never tell Patrick that. He would have been insufferable about it.

Actually, [Y/N] felt jealous. That was also a secret. Because Art, unlike she and Patrick, was nice. Everybody liked him. Nobody ever talked shit about him. Adults loved him and his small-town boy manners. He actually was a rambunctious little jerk, but nobody else saw that. Everyone else got yes sir, yes ma’am, I’m well, how are you? He could turn that charm on and off like a faucet. Infuriating, right?

[Y/N] was also jealous because it was clear she had been replaced.

Patrick lit up like a Christmas tree when he was with Art. He never looked at her like that. Art must have been a better friend to him then she was. Patrick called her once a week to talk for years, but Art slept, like, six feet away from him. It simply wasn’t fair.

Because of that, [Y/N] remembers spring break was really hard. [Y/N] was acutely aware she had lost something she didn’t know she could lose to the human version of a fucking beagle.

[Y/N] couldn’t remember the grade they were in exactly, but she did remember the dress she wore to the Zweigs’ party that year. It was light green and had spaghetti straps. It was longer and more form-fitting than what she was used. Most of the girls her age had settled for lots of tulle and cheetah-print so [Y/N] looked more mature by comparison. It was the first time [Y/N] remembered feeling grown up at all.

To think she thought that all her excitement and contentment was wasted. [Y/N] sat in a plastic pool chair in the backyard curled up with her cork wedge platforms resting dangerously close to the water. She nursed a bottle of vodka she had swiped two months ago from her parents liquor cabinet to surprise Patrick. Meticulously, she had waited for them to be out of town and found the key to the liquor cabinet. A whole bottle just for [Y/N] and her best friend. [Y/N] had barely managed to keep it a secret that she had taken it. She had been so proud of herself and thought Patrick would be too.

Now, she was the only one around to drink it.

Patrick had put his warm, familiar hands on her shoulders and told [Y/N] to wait right there and that he and Art would be back in a sec. The two boys had vanished upstairs presumably to Patrick’s room with laughter spilling from their mouths. [Y/N] sat at the base of the stairs alone for twenty minutes.

According to the garish clock on the wall, at twenty-one minutes, [Y/N] disappeared to the pool. She officially hated Patrick too. He had left her alone at parties plenty of times, and she him. They’d dance with others, or sneak off for a makeout session with a pretty stranger. It had never been a big deal either way. This felt like deliberate abandonment for no good reason. That was a first.

“Whoa, save some for the rest of us.” A reedy voice called out. Art Donaldson. [Y/N]’s head glanced over her shoulder so fast at the sound that she almost made herself dizzy. It took little time to realize there was no Patrick with him.

[Y/N] pulled the bottle closer. “That was a really long one sec,” She replied. She planned to say that eventually in the wasted minutes she waited, but it sounded less cool now than it did in her head. [Y/N] sounded plain mopey and that was a shame. “What’d you guys do anyway? Where’s Patrick?”

Art shrugged and walked further into view. He looked a bit sheepish. “Being Patrick,” He didn’t answer the first question she asked. There was a half-smile tugging at his lips. Art looked nice. Brown dress shoes, navy jacket, white shirt. No tie. She could have sworn that had been a tie at some point earlier. His shaggy blonde hair was mussed, but she had yet to observe it being neat. It was fustrating how effortlessly nice he looked. [Y/N] thought that everyday from day one. “It’s getting kinda cold. You wanna head back inside? I was looking for you—“

“I’m alright here, but thanks,” she slurred slightly. “You head in. I’m not here to ruin your fun.” It had sounded bitter. She hadn’t meant for it to.

Art sighed and glanced away from her. He paused a moment and sighed. “I’m not here to ruin yours either, y’know.”

“You don’t have to make this into a thing. It’s fine.”

“Well, too late. Patrick’s being an ass. I don’t want you out here feeling like I’m some homewrecker. I’ve been on the receiving end of shit like this from him, too. He’s not trying to be nasty to you, ‘promise. Come on, I’m not gonna let you freeze out here.” Art said, stepping in a bit. The glow from the pool left green and white wiggly lines across his cheeks.

“It’s spring, It’ll warm up. Get back up to that party, man. Patrick’s waiting for you.”

“You’re being impossible.”

[Y/N] set the half-empty bottle down beneath her chair. “Nuh-uh.”

“Jesus… if you’re gonna be a jerk about it, at least take this.” Art frowned, shrugging out of his suit jacket. He seemed disappointed.

“Oh, Art, please—“

“No, no! You made your choice. Don’t let me spoil your fun with you and the… the vodka,” Art said, making a show of taking the jacket off and throwing it over to [Y/N]. The balled up lump of fabric landed in her lap with a soft thud. Her stomach churned. “All hunky dory now,” He said, holding his hands out to show he was no threat. Art’s brows were lowered protectively close to his eyes in what [Y/N] thought was an effort to mask slight hurt or rejection. He turned to walk away as [Y/N] clutched the fabric of his jacket between her fingers. Art turned back to to look at her for a moment. [Y/N] didn’t know what that expression was meant to mean. “Be careful, okay? For what it’s worth, you—you look lovely tonight. It would be a shame for such a, uh, such a pretty girl in a pretty dress to end up face down, stuck in the pool drain. ‘Night [Y/N].”

[Y/N] was glad for the dark because she felt her face heat up and dopey smile start to form at the compliment. Maybe she was drunk, but that had to be flirting. In the most fucked up way possible, but still. Why? Art Donaldson didn’t even like her.

Art had only managed to take a few steps into the dewy grass when [Y/N] begrudgingly called out: “Art, wait!”

She hated that she liked the smirk on his face when he turned around. He could tell what she wanted by her tone. What kind of fucker takes no for answer happily and still sets himself up for a yes in the end. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to smile.

“Listen, you’re right—“ [Y/N] stood up confidently, sliding Art’s jacket around her shoulders. And she stood up too fast and knocked her sandals into the pool. “Shit!” She cursed. She was still an age where cursing felt cool and unfamiliar. [Y/N] stood on her unsteady feet and watched her sandals bob out to the middle of the pool, propelled by her kick. She was embarrassed now as well. The stakes of everything felt so much higher than sandals in the pool of her best friend’s backyard. Booze will do that to the sanest of folks. [Y/N] dropped her face heavily into her hands. Great.

Quickly, Art cut his eyes between her and the shoes and back again. “Where do they keep the pool net?” Art asked calmly, without missing a beat.

“The shed.” [Y/N] said miserably and pointed a few feet away. Art bounded across the pavement around the pool to the shed. He tugged once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “It’s locked,” He reported to [Y/N] from practically halfway in the pruned hedges. Art started the walk back to her. Once he was beside her, Art placed a hand gently at her elbow. “Come back inside with me. Please. Patrick may be able to get us a key and we can…”

But [Y/N] looked so sad from behind her hands. Even though all of this was so childish. She was also wearing Art’s jacket now and that did things to his brain. Her dress wasn’t not low cut and he froze for a second. All he could do was stare.

“Just do what I would do,” Patrick said. “It’ll be fine, man. She’s already into you, I can tell.”

“Well, if she’s into me, why would I do what you would do? That’s an awful suggestion, Patrick.” Art protested.

Patrick spun around in his desk chair to face Art as he rolled a joint. “I’ve known her since before I knew you. Just, like, be spontaneous. That’s what I mean. Spontaneous. She’s into that because she’s like that too. And she’s… wicked mean, so don’t start shit. She’ll surprise you, but like, in a good way. What I said before makes me sound like a jackass,” Patrick paused to laugh. “Be in the moment. Don’t get in your head about it. Which you’re doing right now— I can tell, Arthur…” Patrick drew out Art’s full name (which he hated) to get under his skin.

Art stood up from the floor in frustration. He glanced at his watch. Too much time had passed. The window was metaphorically closing. Hastily, Art dashed to the door. “I’m going down there. Poor girl’s been waiting all this time because you, my friend, are a shitty advice-giver.”

“Spontaneous!” Patrick called after him with a grin.

Art stared at [Y/N]. Then he blinked. Then tilted his head to the side. Spontaneous. Before he knew it, he was tugging his shoes and socks off and diving into the pool. Art had been right, it was getting decisively cold and the pool water reflected that. Art swam out to where the wedges had floated too, which had actually been fairly far. He wasn’t sure if the net would have gotten them that easily. Art nicked the shoes by the ankle straps and shook his wet hair out of his face. As he paddled back, he glanced at [Y/N]’s expression. She smiled wide with joy and surprise at Art’s sacrifice.

“Art! Thank you so much!” She said when he flopped the waterlogged shoes onto the concrete. Art looked up at her from the water and he only looked up her skirt a little bit.

“It’s no trouble. Repayment’s in order, though.”

“Repayment…? What do you—“

Art wrapped his wet, callused hands around both of [Y/N] ankles and flipped her into the pool. She screamed as she splashed into the pool. Then laughed hard. Art wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.

“Wait, fuck, you can swim, right?”

Fortunately, [Y/N] could, and that’s the move that won Art Donaldson his wife.

—

“Honey, you have to get up so you can get ready…” Art’s mouth moved against the shell of [Y/N]’s left ear. His arm was tossed over her middle. Normally, it was Art that dreaded getting out of bed, but clearly they enjoyed switching roles once in a while.

A nap had turned into two-and-a-half hours of [Y/N]’s soft snores while Art held her. He couldn’t sleep much, but luckily he had something beautiful to look at. She ripped into him about his staring problem all the time. Art couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. “No.” She mumbled.

“Please…” Art’s hand trailed under her shirt and climbed up, up, up.

“No,” she sighed. Art’s hands groped her left breast and [Y/N] didn’t particularly mind. She shivered at the contact. Art had known every inch of her body over years. Neither was bored yet, though.

“It’s one night. One party. We don’t have to stay all night… He’s not going to be there, Lenora told me when I RSVP’d.”

They had an unspoken rule. They did not name Patrick in conversation when sober. The wound was too fresh still.

“Don’t talk about him, or his fucking mom when you’re touching me like that,” [Y/N] all but moaned as Art’s left thumb circled her nipple. “‘Thought we had to get up…”

Art smirked. “We do. At least you’re awake now.” He teasingly withdrew his hand entirely from out of her shirt and scampered out of bed in one agile zip of a motion.

“Art!”

She groaned. Rolling on her back to look at the ceiling, she glanced over at Art walking through the master bathroom doorway in his briefs. What an incredible ass that man has. “Motivation to leave the party early.” Art said and popped off into the shower.

Maybe it was selfish. Patrick and [Y/N] and Art hadn’t spoken in almost a year. It was no surprise to the Donaldsons that Patrick was an addict. He had been addicted to almost everything and everyone that crossed his path. What they hadn’t expected was him becoming so out of control that he missed the wedding of his two best friends and was sent into rehab once he was declared medically stable. The one person that both Donaldsons had fought to have in their own personal half of the wedding party. And he wasn’t there. And the wedding was expensive enough to go through with it amid all the bad feelings over Patrick.

Still, they were invited to the Zweig family’s charity or whatever gala. They would go like they always had, too. But it would be their first time alone, so to speak.

[Y/N] regretfully got out of bed while Art showered. She moved to the closet and unzipped her paper thin dress bag. The gown itself was beautiful, but not all too expensive. The year had been tight in terms of money. The wedding and the honeymoon were pricey enough before you added in rackets and competition entry fees and coaching. Art was an expensive husband to have. He made up for it. He was playing at his best too, so [Y/N] hardly cared. Who could put a price on seeing Art smile like that?

[Y/N] cringed if she had to pay more than two-hundred dollars for shoes or a dress anyway.

The dress was green. She’d worn a lot of green since she met Art. [Y/N] dreaded wiggling into shapewear and spending too long on her hair. Art had it easy. A tie, a jacket and trading his nasty watch for his nicer one. It wasn’t fair. It never was with Art.

She got ready all the same. The straps rested on her shoulders, thicker than the early 2000s straps she had been dumped into the pool in. It was longer than that dress. Almost floor length instead of mid calf. It was elegant for its price tag.

Once the dress was on, [Y/N] tumbled into the bathroom to do her makeup. The shared counter was way too small for both of their shit to sit nicely on. She would complain about that when there was more money in the bank account to do something about it. Art was taking longer than normal in the shower. Boner, [Y/N] thought.

As she started to put her face on, she could see Art’s face in the foggy mirror behind her. The sound of the water stopping and the shower curtain being tossed back had gone unnoticed. He was smiling slightly. “You look nice.” He said softly. Art toweled off his shaggy hair harshly behind her. He kept looking at her.

This is how Art was. He made these remarkable heart eyes at her every time he saw her. [Y/N] could be wearing a potato sack and she would feel beautiful. That look, that staring problem, was worse a hundredfold when she was dressed up. He kept glancing at her. She could see him in the mirror. He wanted [Y/N] to see. The blue and brown of his eyes cast further and further down her body.

“Staring.” [Y/N] said simply. She didn’t even look away from her own face in the mirror.

“Yeah. And?” Art smiled cheekily. His face was bright red not from the warm shower water. He wrapped his towel around his slim waist. [Y/N] applied too much concealer and less blush. “I, of all people, am allowed.”

“Idiot.” [Y/N] said. Art dried his hands profusely on his towel, knowing she would squawk at him if he left wet handprints behind on her dress.

Art’s hands wrapped around her waist. Great pains were taken to prevent other wet spots from splopping up her dress. So, so gently, he kissed the left side of her neck from behind. “I was thinking—” Art was always gentle in his own way.

“Ooh, dangerous.”

“Shut up. Y’know, this is the first Zweig party where your placecard is going to say Donaldson on it…”

[Y/N] nodded softly. “Huh. Yeah. That’s true.” She said, smiling a bit.

“I’m really, really excited about that. On the seating chart, we’re the Donaldsons. Isn’t that so crazy…?” Art whispered into her plush skin. “Plural. Two of us.”

Teasingly, she nudged him back with her elbow. The smile was still wide on her lips. “You’re being such a girl about it.”

Art didn’t let go or relent. He pressed feather-light kisses between [Y/N]’s ear and collarbone. “Am I? Hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re going to be late to this thing you want to go to so bad, Mr. Donaldson, if you don’t stop.” [Y/N] whispered, incapable of doing more. She did set down her makeup sponge and pot of foundation with a clack.

“Would that be such a bad thing? Only a couple minutes, right? We could-we could cut out some of the boring small talk and…” Art said, daring boldly to drag his tongue up her throat as the steamed up mirror cleared some. He never finished his sentence verbally.

[Y/N] gasped at the feeling. That was a brave move for Art. “You drag me out of bed early so we can be late anyway. You don’t make any s-sense, babe.”

He huffed impishly. Art spun [Y/N] around to face him. His face and shoulders were damp from the water collected in his hair, which desperately needed a trim. Carefully, Art brushed [Y/N]’s hair away from her face. “You’re right… I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

Then, Art’s mouth quirked into that crooked smile she loved so much.

“Please.” Art said in a hushed voice and boosted [Y/N] smoothly onto their rickety counter. “Give me ten minutes.”

“You can do better than ten.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Clock’s ticking.” When she said it, she heard Art’s knees hit the tile in front of her.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig #tashi duncan

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koifsssh · 1 year ago

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The Greaser Au!

(oh goodie! it's here!)

bwah, where to start?

long, long, long rambles below! (Beware!)

Wally! I'll start with Wally!

As you can imagine, Wally is the little leader of the group! Promptly dubbed after his last name, "The Darlings"! (how darling they are indeed!)

Wally had grown a fascination with the trend, though he didn't quite understand the need to act so tough and mean, so he decided to make his own group! (with the help of Barnaby!)

Motorcycles, catchy tunes, being free on the road is something everyone should enjoy! So who cares if you're big or small, or if you like the color pink? Anyone can be a greaser as long as they got a jacket and a bike to go along with it!

At least, that what he believes anyway!

Speaking of a certain beagle...

Barnaby!

Barnaby of course wanted to join in on the fun, and he very publicly advertised Wally's gang at his little comedy nights! (It did catch a certain blonde's attention!)

it did garner attention, with the way the beagle so affectionately told of Wally's endearingly comedic actions from their day to day life. Barnaby also helped Wally organize the entire set up, helping him get paint and base jackets for the painter to personalize! (He also suggested Poppy's diner as a hangout spot! He had it all thought out!)

Plus, it made his best friend happy! Who could ask for more? Well... maybe Barnaby would ask for a hotdog or two.

Julie!

Julie is a seasoned hair stylist! She owns her own hair salon! She's excellent at her job, however more often than not she gets a unpleasant customer.

Stress can pile up unfortunately, and when she attended a comedy show one evening she couldn't help but be ecstatic at such an idea of being free on the road. It felt like the perfect destresser!

Talking on the phone with Frank was great and all, but nothing compares to feeling the rush of wind in her hair... So she jumped at such an opportunity! And of course, Julie doesn't go anywhere without a certain frowny bookworm!

Frank!

Frank is an entomologist! (and a part-time librarian during the summertime!) A dream job really, but every dream comes with its hurdles! Similar to Julie, Frank found themself stressed. Usually books were able to decompress them, but lately they've been growing frustrated, the one thing they hate the most is incompetent writing!

It took a lot of convincing to get Frank to even consider the idea of being a greaser, let alone get on a motorcycle... but Julie can be very insistent when she wishes to be! Not even a week passed before they begged Julie to stop her nagging, but in exchange they had to at least go with her once on a motorcycle...

how mortifying.

However! the thrill of being on the open road at a high speed was something they never knew they needed! Needless to say, after that, they were hooked!

Sally!

Sally was the last member to join! and she took her spot quite quickly!

Sally had been in Poppy's diner when she saw The Darling's walk in, she was in awe! Colorful motorcycles? Matching jackets? They all looked marvelous! The star couldn't help herself when she walked up to them, simply starstruck at such a group!

They all looked to be having such fun... she wanted to take part!

When Sally asked if there was a spot left for her, Wally softly smiled at her and stated, "Anyone and everyone can join!"

She was content that day, and from then on, it really was the best group of friends she could ever ask for!

---

whew! im done!

(this is my second time typing this... i had lost it all the first time. bwah. but it's here!!!)

im quite happy how everything turned out! I think i'll use this as a master post of sorts, just so you don't have to dig through my stuff just to find anything specific!

I'll leave Poppy's & Howdy's explanations here! (Just know those designs are old! All the designs in this post are the ones i will be using!)

Poppy's Diner!

additionally! I will give you everyone's closeups!

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notjustjavierpena · 6 months ago

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I dont know if its Father’s day where you are but Happy Father’s day to Hubby Javi!!

Father's Day (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: It's not but he sure appreciates you reminding me! In other words, I threw this drabble together just for you. Spot a little reveal in there!

Summary: Join Hubby as father's day comes to an end.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, pregnant reader, fluff, allusions to smut, Javier being called Daddy

Word count: 725

Father's Day

As the day is coming to an end and the weather starts cooling down outside, Javier drags his favorite garden chair into the center of the back porch so he has an overlook of the garden. He settles into the chair with a contented sigh, feeling full from the fantastic dinner you served half an hour ago, and in his hand, he twirls and rereads the card he received during his breakfast.

It’s a handmade card full of glitter and dollops of messy glue, each of his children contributing a drawing but also a joint message telling him that they love him. Lucas has drawn a picture of them all, complete with a depiction of the growing belly on you as you carry his twin girls, while Inés has drawn a heart with a stick-figure family inside it and one of her famous butterflies. Javier’s eyes had practically sparked at the realization that even Sebastian had added his mark with a few colorful lines and squiggles.

He looks up with a smile and observes Sebastian babbling in a kiddie pool that you’ve set up next to him. His one-year-old is splashing happily in a swimming diaper, trying to figure out how things seem to stay afloat despite his efforts to drag them under the water.

Javier’s two eldest children are playing tag on the lawn. They’re barefoot, speeding across the grass until their pant legs are covered in green stains and dirt but they look so happy as they take turns to chase each other.

Lucas pauses for a moment and decides to hide behind a bush when he sees Inés is distracted by a ladybug on one of the trees and seems to forget that she has to run from him. He pants with excitement and exhaustion at the same time, waiting patiently for her to start her search for him.

“Got you!” He shouts triumphantly when she runs past his hiding spot, jumping out and capturing his baby sister with a grin. She squeals with laughter as she tumbles to the ground, the sound echoing through the garden and settling in Javier’s chest, warm and comforting. She regains her composure, animatedly dusts herself off like she’s seen in cartoons, and then she’s off again and Lucas adapts his speed to match her. Lucas is so good at making her feel confident and seen, Javier thinks to himself, if only he knew that being an amazing big brother is paying off because you’ve looked at a dog for his birthday in August, a two-year-old beagle from the local shelter.

You step out onto the porch, immediately bending down to check the temperature of Sebastian’s water, and only when you’ve made sure it’s not too cold make your way to your husband. You lean down to kiss him, a hand on your pregnant belly as you do it, and Javier stretches his neck to meet your lips in a soft peck.

In your free hand, you carry an already-opened Corona beer. You hold it out for him and he carefully sets the card down on the side table to take it from you.

“Thanks, baby, you spoil me,” he says gently. He sits back and takes a long sip in the scorching summer heat. Then he rests the bottle on his thigh, “Still don’t think I look like him… the guy in the commercials.”

“Yes, you do. Happy Father's Day," you say fondly and kiss him once more, this time a little longer and enough for him to want to wrap his arm around your waist.

"Thank you," he replies, placing a gentle hand on your belly instead as his eyes are filled with love for you. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

“Just wait until you realize what I have planned for later,” you tease with a knowing smile, “It’s going to be all about Daddy tonight. I’m showing you how much I appreciate everything you do for me and the kids.”

“Tell me more?” His interest is definitely piqued.

“Not in front of the baby. It’s not appropriate,” you tease.

“Come on.”

“Use your big brain,” you laugh softly, “I’m giving you a blowjob, you idiot.”

A grin spreads across his face and while still staring into your eyes, he shouts across the garden, “C’mon, mijos (my children), it’s time for bed.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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luveline · 1 year ago

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steve!! i miss him too :( what about a cute kbd christmas fic?

kbd —the harrington's start preparing for christmas. mom!reader, 2k

When you get home to absolute silence, you assume your kids have been abducted and your husband murdered. When you find the laundry baskets have been moved off of the stairs and the mountain of little shoes by the door has been lined up neatly, you guess the killers must've cleaned after it happened.

You forget the stiffness of your back and pinched toes. Arms full of grocery bags, you shoulder into the living room with your tongue between your teeth. “Oh,” you say, breathing out, “good. You're alive.”

Your girls are sitting in a wavy row. Avery lays with a long leg hanging over one couch arm, littlest Wren by her side swaddled and propped with pillows. Dove sits at Wren's other side with her rainbow Teddy bear in her lap. Bethie, precious sweetheart, is sleeping smushed against the opposite armrest with Steve's sweatshirt over her lap.

“Hey, honeys,” you say quietly, so as not to disrupt their mild moods, “everyone okay?”

“Yeah, mom,” Avery says without looking away from the TV.

“What about you, Dove? You okay?”

“Yis,” she says shortly.

You turn to the TV, confused. What could be interesting enough to hook them both? Even Wren seems to be watching the TV, her tiny face demure.

“What's this?” you ask, squinting, before a familiar white beagle takes to the screen. “Oh, it's A Charlie Brown Christmas!”

“Mommy, can you please be bit quieter, please?” Dove asks.

You snort and hurry past them to the kitchen. The smell of homemade cinnamon rolls envelopes you, the heat of the oven warming your wind-nipped nose. “Hey,” you say, though you can't actually see your husband anywhere.

He pops up from behind the kitchen table with water dripping down one wrist, a rag in hand. “Hey!” he says, ditching the rag in a bowl of suds, quick to wipe his hands dry on his chest and stand. “I didn't hear you. You forget how to yell?”

“And disturb the peace?” You sigh in relief as he takes the heavier bag from your wrist to push onto the clean countertop. “Thanks.” He takes the other bags. “Thanks, baby.”

“Y'welcome,” he says easily. He looks like he's had a long day in that his shirt is wet in four different places and in three different colours, but he looks happy, cheeks a red hue and almond eyes creased with a familiar fondness.

Steve's pretty much always happy to see you. You lay claim to at least two of his smile lines, and you love to feel them with your fingers to affirm that they're really there, he's really happy, in this life you made together. (An exhausting, lovely life.) You raise your hand to his cheek and cover one such wrinkle with your fingertips, tilting his face into one palm. “You've been busy today,” you say gently.

“So busy. All the bedrooms, the bathrooms. Soon as I wipe down the baseboards in here, I'm done.”

“Want me to do it?”

“No way. You'll take all my glory.” He presses his smile into a flat line, though the love stays behind in his eyes.

“I'm gonna look at everything just as soon as I put the groceries away, I can't believe it,” you say, kissing him chastely, then the corner of his mouth before pulling away. The soft brush of his lips lingers on yours, but nothing feels as good as the way he looks at you. “You didn't have to do it all, baby, I would've helped.”

“Christmas will be here before we know it,” he says with an unbothered shrug. “It creeps up on us every year. I figured I better get the jump on it if I was gonna get it done, but then they've all been so weirdly well behaved. Dove hasn't cried once.”

“Bethie's sleeping, you know?”

He takes your arm before you can turn away and works you into a hug.

“I know,” he says, cupping the back of your head. “Was Wren alright?”

“Best big sister is looking after her.”

“God, we don't deserve her. She's not stressed, is she?”

Avery loves being a big sister, but you're both wary of how she might feel responsible for things she shouldn't have to be responsible for. “She looked fine. They were watching TV.”

Steve gives you a steady, soft squeeze. You press your nose down into his shoulder with your arms curled around him to breathe him in. He smells of disinfectant, the sugary Christmas one that the girls can't get enough of. Avery begs him to spray down the bath before she gets in so it'll smell nice, and every time he promises her he'll buy her a bottle of bubble bath, but a little disinfectant isn't bad for her, anyways. From over Steve's shoulder you can see he's used it well, every surface sparkling clean, no corner or speck of grime left to survive.

You kiss his shoulder. “You really didn't have to, Stevie, but thank you. It's amazing in here.”

He hums into the side of your head. “I love you.”

You totally, totally get it. You'd clean a hundred houses for him, even with four girls badgering you as you go.

“Love you too. You finish the baseboards, I'll put the groceries away, and we'll sit down before they realise they're being well-behaved.”

Steve likes your plan, leaving you with a last little squeeze to get done cleaning. You sort through what's in the fridge, throwing away stuff past due, noting on the whiteboard stuck to the fridge what's about to go bad soon, as well as the dates for the meat. What you've bought today should last for at least two weeks, but it never really does.

You keep some of the Christmas goodies on the counter and hide the rest away atop the cabinets out of sight.

Avery runs in as you're taking off your shoes. “Mom, Bethie's crying about something.”

“Oh no. Thanks, babe, I'll be right there.”

You sneak a peek at Steve before you go. His brow furrowed in concentration, the muscle of his upper arm tenses and releases with every scrub of the baseboard. It's… Well, you married well.

Beth cries on the couch, she and Dove pulling at the same dark blob of material while Wren looks on in quiet confusion. She's too small to sit, laid on her back, but she's started turning her head, following people and their movements, and when she sees you, she smiles. It's a very Steve-like expression.

“Hello,” you say, picking her up carefully, kissing her little head. “Let's get you out of the splash zone, sweetheart.”

“Mom, she took daddy's hoodie!”

“I want it!”

“What if I go get another one of daddy's hoodies?” you ask, attempting a swift defusing. “How's that? We can all have one.”

“I want this one,” Beth insists.

“I want it,” Dove says, glaring at her older sister.

Bethie is a gentle soul that won't pull it out of Dove's hands, even when she maybe should. She cries and balls her hands into the fabric to stop from losing it completely, sending you a desperate frown, “Mom, please, I had it first.”

“Yes you did, honey. Dove.” You look her straight in her little face, knowing this won't end well. “Bethie had it first, okay? You can have it later, but until then, I can go get you one for yourself.”

Dove hates that. Wren hates that Dove hates it, and everybody starts crying. Avery didn't follow you out of the kitchen, likely kept behind by Steve to save her from the coming massacre, but she'd probably start crying too from the sheer overwhelming volume.

Can't have everything, you think.

“Dove, don't make me call daddy in here. Take your hands off of daddy's sweatshirt. Now, please.”

Dove shrieks and lets go of it, throwing herself down off of the couch to cry into the beanbag instead. She kicks her legs, and Beth looks shocked at the outcome, any victory overwritten by guilt. She climbs off of the couch with her arm already held out to give Dove the sweater, but you stop her.

“That's yours, baby, you keep it. Daddy gave that to you.”

“I'm not being a good sharer,” Bethie says.

“There's enough to go around,” you promise her. Dove's just showing off ‘cos you've said no, not because there's something special about that sweatshirt. Sure, it has a reindeer on the chest, but Steve has tens of Christmas sweatshirts.

You get to a point as a parent where the crying becomes white noise, and you can manage one at a time or none at all. Bethie nods, and you lean down to give her tearstained cheek a kiss before turning to Dove with Wren grizzling in your arms. She can't decide if she's upset or not, it seems.

“Dovey, don't be angry at me, please? Let's go get you another one. Okay? You could even have one of mommy's, if you wanted.”

Not good enough. She cries and cries and cries until Steve enters the room, his confusion dramatised as he holds out his hands to her. “Dove! What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Mom won't– mommy won't–” She sobs. “I want that one.”

“Mommy's just doing what I asked her to,” Steve says, bending down at the waist to meet her eyes. “So be mad at me, okay? Mommy didn't do it, I told her that that one's for Beth. How about we go and get you another one?”

Dove immediately takes his hand, appeased now she has someone on her side. You flop down on the couch as they walk away together with one last child to soothe. Wren goes down easy. All she wants is some shushing and back patting.

“Is it over?” Avery asks, tiptoeing back into the room.

You laugh. “Yeah, it's over. Sorry.”

“I'm sorry for hiding,” she says.

“There's nothing wrong with sitting somewhere quiet when things are too loud, bub. You gonna come and finish your movie? We can get dad to rewind it for us.” You hold out an arm. She sits in front of it with a smile like she's been given the world.

You really don't deserve your girl.

Steve and Dove return changed. Steve's in clean pyjamas with wet cheeks, Dove drowned in one of Steve's snowman sweaters. He rewinds the movie without being asked, and he squeezes in beside Avery, and everyone lets out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

He finds your shoulder across the back of the couch, feeling along it like he knows every curve and divot. It doesn't take long for you to settle in and relax, soothed as the girls had been by a touch of comfort. Your attention flickers between his peaceful face and the baby as she snores on your chest.

“Snoopy is sooooo bad,” Bethie whispers happily, looking to her big sister for an agreement.

“He's mischievous,” Avery says.

“That's a big word,” you say, “where'd you learn that one, honey?”

Steve pats your arm. He doesn't say anything, just lets you know he's there with you.

“We're reading a book about Santa at school and they said all the mischievous kids end up on the naughty list.”

“That's not necessarily true.” You kiss her forehead. “You girls are mischievous, but you're still good girls.”

“I'm not mist-jiv-us,” Beth denies.

“You're the most mist-jiv-us,” Steve says, “I know what you're up to, Bethie bear. I always know.”

“I'm not up to anything!” she denies, giggling at his accusatory tone.

“I am naughty,” Dove says.

You and Steve laugh at the same time. “Only a little,” Steve says.

“A lot!” Avery says.

Dove just laughs and lays back against Steve's chest. Avery languishes between you and Steve like a princess, propping her leg over your thigh, and Beth snuggles into your arm. You breathe in the smell of Wren's hair, totally relaxed in the squeaky clean depths of the living room, your family finally in one place.

Steve deserves a great, huge, heaping thank you, but you don't have anything to give him. You turn to him over Avery's head, trying to think of what to say to him to express how grateful you are for all that effort and love, years of it, but when he meets your eyes you know he already knows what you want to say.

“Can we pretend there's mistletoe or something?” he asks, looking down to your lips, his own pursed into a longing pout.

“Yeah, Stevie,” you say, lifting your chin invitingly. “Wow, look, there's mistletoe! You know what that means.”

You can feel the shape of his smile when he kisses you, and though he keeps it short and sweet, that evening his hand stays on your arm for hours drawing hearts between iterations of your name, one loving letter at a time.

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rwrbficrecs · 6 months ago

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The Monarch Haven by @redlightsandicedtea (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I found this fic through @lieselsart's wonderful illustration. Alex isn't the First Son, but his parents are high-ranking politicians. Due to serious mental health issues, he lives secluded in Texas, where he runs a mental health refuge for teens— the Monarch Haven. Secluded, until a real prince seeks refuge there. Alex isn't thrilled but still wants to help. What follows is 76k words of slow burn and domesticity! It's beautifully angsty, with a gradual and moving development. A total comfort read !!

Whiteout by HarmonyWhitlock (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Snowboarder Alex and skier Henry almost collide on the slopes, followed by a heated exchange of words. At the end of the day though, they meet at the bar and, well... This story is part of a series which is all about the CMQ-influenced trope 'In every universe'. I got all giddy with every beautiful story I read: So carefully composed and very well crafted, the emotions and attraction swept me away. Hopefully many more to come !!

I Want Candy by @vanillahigh00 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Alex as a dad and Henry's house being his daughter's first stop on her quest for Halloween candy are the ingredients to this very sweet fic!

Tiempo de Vals by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Authentic Hispanic details (that are always one of my favorite things about this author's writing), a high school AU, and firstprince dancing- what's not to love?

Workin' On My Fitness by bananamilks (book-verse)

@na-dineee: After gushing to Pez about how hot fitness trainer Alex on Instagram is, he is actually indignant when Pez gives him a gift certificate for a training package to reach his (decidedly not) fitness goal: to be able to lift hot men onto countertops. As always, these two have the hots for each other. And the story around it is really sweet, two seconds angsty, also funny, and just delightful.

If U Seek Amy by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@dot524: Such a cute and meaningful 5+1 centering on Amy Chen and how she views the different members of the First Family. Love an outsider PoV and the sweet moments in this one.

Adrift by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@read-and-write-: An addicting pacific rim AU. I don't even go here and I fully enjoyed it, packed with action, life-threatening monsters and alex-and-henry typical obliviousness and refusal to talk about their feelings which is y'know, canon. Everyone needs to give an opportunity to this one.

In Plain Sight You Hid by @nontoxic-writes (movie-verse)

@dot524: Ever reflect deeply on why everyone hates Miguel? This story fleshes out what he did to Alex and expands on what happened during that hookup and what it had to do with Henry. This is also a study of Alex’s relationship with Henry and what made it special. An insightful and angsty (and sexy) addition to the movie canon.

the beagle, the ghost, and the wardrobe by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I was immediately intrigued by this fic title's Chronicles of Narnia inspiration, and the fic itself didn't disappoint! Ghost Alex, star-crossed lovers- what more could you ask for?

Jump in with your heart first by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is a blind date that, despite a hiccup or two along the way, will make you believe in soulmates!

Foxden Park by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@dot524: Really enjoyed the slow burn of this one as the story unfolded. So many fun scenes - horse riding, canoeing, sneaky rendezvous in the library. An addicting, enjoyable read!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs #red white and royal blue

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fictionalcharactersaremypassion · 25 days ago

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“You need to stop cursing in front of Yev before he picks it up.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Ian stared pointedly while pulling out a shopping cart, gently easing Yev into the spot where the kids got to sit. “Fat fucking chance of that happening.”

“Mickey.”

“Jesus, stop naggin’ me,” he complained. Ian pushed the cart towards the fresh produce, which his boyfriend was going to avoid altogether. “Who gives a shit what he says? You think a Milkovich is gonna grown up fuckin’ pure or something?”

Ian examined the carrots, responding to him without looking. “We should try to curb it before he starts school so he’s not influencing all the other kids.”

Mickey stared at him blankly for a few seconds. “Who gives a shit about those other kids? Since when do you give a shit?”

A sigh escaped past Ian’s lips. He knew his reason here wouldn’t go over well. “Lana pulled me aside and told me she wants us to stop cursing so much.”

As predicted, his boyfriend was less than pleased. “Who cares what that bitch says? Like she’s any better.”

“She doesn’t want Yev to be like that, though.”

“No, she doesn’t want Yev to be like me,” he said with a scoff. “She can get the fuck over it.”

Ian rolled his eyes hard. He smiled down at Yev, brushing some hair back. “Don’t repeat what your daddy says, okay, Yevy?”

“Why?” Yev tilted his head.

“Because they’re bad words,” Ian ignored Mickey’s snort. “Only grown ups can use them.”

“Nah,” Mickey butted into the conversation, “you can use ‘em, but it’s gotta be for a good reason.”

“Like what?” Yev asked, confused.

Ian shot him a dirty look. “He’s joking, Yevy. There’s not really a good reason-”

“You know, if other kids are being little shits or-” Mickey thought this over, “fuck, I don’t know. If you think the situation calls for it, use it.”

“Oh,” Yev said understandingly.

“Is anyone going to listen to me?” Ian felt like he’d have a better outcome by talking to a damn wall.

“Been tryin’ not to,” Mickey answered.

Jesus Christ. Ian took a deep breath, plastering on a smile for Yev. “Don’t listen to Daddy. He doesn’t mean it.”

“Sure I fucking do.”

“Was that a good reason?” Yev said with a grin.

“Damn right it was.”

“No,” Ian snapped. He looked accusingly at his boyfriend. “You’re doing it on purpose now.”

“Can't prove it,” Mickey shrugged. It might’ve sounded convincing to someone else if he didn’t have that little infuriating smirk peeking out.

Most of the time spent in the store was uneventful, unless one counted the two times he was stopped by a couple of old ladies to admire and coo over Yev. The kid was a real charmer; he beamed at them, soaking all the attention up. For Ian, it was less comfortable, particularly because one of them mentioned a granddaughter around his age that she would be delighted to give him the phone number for.

Needless to say, he got out of there fast.

Elsewhere in the store, he tried to ensure they were getting some fruits and vegetables into the cart, after seeing how...lacking the Milkovich fridge was. Mickey, of course, was not interested in the slightest. He made a beeline for the pizza beagles, tossing them in carelessly.

“Do we really need three bags?”

“Fuck off,” came Mickey’s automatic response. Ian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t forget Mandy wants some chips. Iggy ate all hers.”

“Then she can go get some herself. She’s got money.”

“She’s working, Mick.”

“So what? She can’t go afterwards?” Mickey waved a hand uncaringly.

Asshole, Ian thought.

When they made it to the chip aisle, Mickey was already there, having walked ahead. He searched for his own chips, while Ian looked for the kind Mandy mentioned she wanted.

Side-by-side, Mickey glanced at Ian.. “You know, he hasn’t picked up on it yet.” That was technically true, even though Yev was exposed to everyone in the house doing so. “So you and Mother Russia can chill out.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t go without saying fuck for five minutes.”

Mickey knocked into Ian’s shoulder with his knuckles. It really fucking hurt.

“Ow,” Ian grumbled.

“You gotta be kidding me?” Mickey wasn’t looking at Ian, but rather the endless chip options. “What?” Ian was rubbing his the spot where he was hit, hoping to ease away some of the pain.

“They’re out of barbecue pringles!”

“What the fuck?” Yev said loudly.

An older lady nearby gaped at hearing such language from someone so young. Ian sighed in defeat, while Mickey was unfazed. He flung a hand in his son’s direction, nodding.

“My thoughts exactly, Little Man.”

#gallavich #shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #yevgeny milkovich #ian and mickey #ian x mickey #shameless fanfiction

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that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 11 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

See my other Welcome Home work here!

Requested by @mugmaya19

Request: If you are taking in requests could you do one where we just randomly grab their face and kiss them around their face’s before we just walk away like nothing happened? Again if you aren’t doing that then feel free to use this as a way of creative thinking! Have a good day

×A/N×

Omg I had so much fun the writing of this!! I love them so much! 😭❤

I think the chosed scenario was adorable and I absolutely loved it!

I hope you'll have the same fun with the reading of this!

Btw sorry for the picture of Sally :")

(You don't know how much I loved writing Poppy's part- 😭❤)

×❢ About my work ❢×

no proofread, it can have spelling mistakes, look, idk if they can blush or even have a heart, but now they do, okay? lol, no smut, just sweet fluff, no pronouns used for the reader, petnames like darling, love, hon.

Fandom: Welcome Home horror project by Clown

Character(s): Wally Darling, Barnaby B. Beagle, Eddie Dear, Julie Joyful, Frank Frankly, Howdy Pillar, Sally Starlet, Poppy Partridge, The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Ship(s): The characters x The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Form: Headcanons

Wally Darling

"Wally, come here, I want to show you something!"

• after you placed his face into your hands

• You started kissing him around

• cheeks, lips, nose

• gosh he felt like heaven between your kisses

• he just sat there still as he accepted his fate

• not like he would want to disagree :D

• after some time, he even leaned forward a bit to have more

• he decided that it was his turn to give you kisses

• he was planning to give a "mwah" to you

• but you turned away and left him

• (a.n: *dramatic gasp* how dare you?! >:c)

• he was just sitting there and confusedly watched as you left

• "Where are you going, neighbour?"

• dw, if you're not getting his smooch now, you'll get it later, I can promise that! 😌✨

Sally Starlet

"Sally, can you come here for a minute?"

• she was practicing, so at first she wasn't too happy that you disturbed her

• "Yeah, yeah, I'm almost finished (Y/N)!"

• after a few minutes she were already in front of you with a furious look

• (a.n: how dare you disturb her? >:( /jk)

• "What do you want, (Y/N)?" she asked impatiently.

• but you just stood up and gave a small kiss on her lips without an answer

• she was too surprised to react anything, so you continued

• her face was between your soft hands, while you gave an another kiss on her forehead

• she didn't fight too much about it

• she even leaned into your touch

• after you were done, you thought that you can just simply walk away

• well, *chuckle* no.

• you DISTURBED her practice, then made her heart skip a beat and fall in love with you AGAIN, and after all this, you wanna just WALK AWAY like nothing happened?!

• she quickly catched you by your wrist with a unsatisfied look and a smirk on her face

• "No, I think not, (Y/N). We need to talk."

Frank Frankly

"Frank, can you come here?"

• first he just approached you innocently, but he could feel that you were planning something

• he didn't know what specifically, but the aura around you could tell that you're on something

• but he still walked up to you and asked

• "What do you need, darling?"

• you gently put your hands on his face

• and give one kiss to his forehead

• an another to his lips

• and an another one to his right cheek

• "What are you doing, darling?" he asked as he softly pulled you closer to him by your hips.

• you just kept kissing him, didn't bring yourself to answer

• you didn't let him to give back the kisses, but he could catch one and return it

• he even hummed from the enjoyment of your affection

• he could stay like this forever and ever

• but you let go from him

• the moment that he realised that you're planning to go away, he quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him

• "Where do you think you're going, love?"

Barnaby B. Beagle

"Come here, Barnaby!"

• he feels like heaven between your hands

• he immediately leaned into the touch as you started kissing him around his face

• gosh your rubs feels so good!

• I can imagine that he gently starts biting your hands in an affectionately way

• he even closed his eyes from your sweet kisses

• but as soon as he stopped feeling your touch, he quickly opened his eyes confusedly

• in the last minutes, he still hoped that you'll turn back

• but you didn't :(

• "Uhh... (Y/N)? Buddy? Where are you going?"

Howdy Pillar

"Howdy, can you help me, please?"

• he came up to you obliviously

• "What is it, hon?"

• he's always ready to help you, when you need him

• you asked him to come closer and he did as you requested from him

• you softly grabbed his face and started placing sweet kisses on his face

• he softly chuckled at the first ones

• he's more like a kiss giver than receiver, but although he enjoys it

• when you wanted to leave, he just simply whined

• "No, don't go, (Y/N)!"

Poppy Partridge

• Today Poppy seemed like she was pretty frustrated. Her wings were shaking, making the binding more difficult to her. You decided to check on her and give her a little comfort.

"Wa- Wait, Poppy, let me help you!"

• you made her to let go the sweater that she was working on and after her attention was on you, you've finally could help

• you gently started to caress her wings, attend to not to crease her feathers

• and gave soft kisses around her beak

• but she's just got more frustrated and flushed

• when you were about to leave, you actually changed your mind

• she didn't say anything 'cause she was too nervous and shy to say it out loud, but her eyes were literally begged for your affection

• please give her more, she deserves it! ♡

• (btw the sweater which was she working on, it's actually for)

Julie Joyful

"Hey, Julie, come here!"

• she approached you happily and smiley, like she always does

• what she didn't know that you were planning to make her heart jump out of her chest

• ( i mean, in a metaphoric way)

• "What is it, (Y/N)?"

• you didn't pay attention to answer, instead you just grabbed her face and started kissing her around

• i can imagine that she giggles while you kissing her

• she actually leans forward to make your work easier

• when you walked away, Julie just simply started to follow you with a disappointed look

• "Aww, where are you going, (Y/N)?" "Don't leave me here!" "But (Y/N)!"

• she will keep ask more until you actually give the kisses to her

Eddie Dear

"Eddie, can you come here for a second?"

• I can assure that you kept kissing him much longer than just a second lol

• he was there in seconds

• just like always, he's ready to help you in anything

• "Is there something wrong, hon?"

• at first, he wanted to return the kisses when you started to give them to him

• but later he finally catch up that it was you what will give the kisses

• so he just leaned into your touch and enjoyed your soft kisses

• as he got more comfortable in your touch eventually he closed his eyes

• he was just about to get too comfy, when you stood up and walked away

• He calls after you worriedly.

"(Y/N)? Did I do something wrong?"

• he's more worried than confused, 'cause he's afraid that he did something wrong to you

• please give him more kisses to make sure that he's loved and he did nothing wrong (and that he doesn't cry)

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oooocleo · 1 month ago

Note

Oh shit your reading log is super cool AND you have super good taste in books??? Le Guin is my favorite author of all time, and I've either just read or want to read most of the rest of your 2024 list!

wahaha there r some Stars (the dispossessed.....................yea) in there but also some stinkers

some months back i made a list of the faves up till that point, but let me list some more:

dark places by gillian flynn (if u like fucked up characters shes SO good at writing them... mayb find trigger warnings for this one tho, its darker than gone girl content-wise)

salt slow by julia armfield (short story collection where my enjoyment ranged a bit, but the title story was sooo delicious)

the haunting of hill house by shirley jackson (i didnt enjoy we have always lived in the castle that much so i was hesitant, but this was rly interesting! i believe one of the first novels that went hard on the unreliable narrator bit)

the last unicorn by peter s. beagle (woggghhhh the prose.... this surprised me by how incredibly it captured the essence of fairytales)

fight club by chuck palahniuk (i mean. it was more enjoyable than american psycho lol.. and well structured 🤔 and absurd)

#cleo talks #reading log #an oresteia and the books following r still in progress so my opinion has not fully formed

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demigodsanswer · 2 days ago

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Percy was pretty good at getting gifts for Annabeth. She wasn’t that subtle about what she wanted. He was sure his wife wanted a dog. He was going to get her dream dog for Christmas. ~ Annabeth spent weeks subtly trying to get Percy to say what kinds of dogs he might like. Ever since they moved back to New York, and he’d once again left Mrs. O'Leary and Nope in New Rome, her husband had been a bit bummed out, staring wistfully at every dog they passed on the street. She was sure he’d love to get a puppy for Christmas. And she was going to get it for him.

Percy was pretty good at getting gifts for Annabeth. She wasn’t that subtle about what she wanted, and she’d sometimes just outright ask for something, or send him the link to the specific book, keyboard, and sweater she wanted.

So, he was sure his wife wanted a dog.

It was their first Christmas as a married couple. Fred (and Percy had to assume the gods, unless the Chase family was really this wealthy) had outright bought them a Brooklyn brownstone for their wedding. The upstairs had needed hefty renovations, but that was really part of the gift: it gave Annabeth a project. Where she found the time, Percy didn’t know. But the first floor was perfect for them while Annabeth redid the upstairs bathroom and bedrooms.

Now they had a dream home, a yard, and total freedom from landlord restrictions. And every night, Annabeth had a bevy of new cute dog videos to show him.

“Would you want to get a dog soon?” Percy asked, not bothering to be subtle.

She shrugged. “Could be nice to get one before we start having kids,” she said.

“A little practice,” Percy said with a smile, as if they hadn’t practiced plenty with Estelle for years.

“Would you want a big dog? Little dog?” Annabeth asked.

“I love a big dog, but in the city, something smaller might be better,” he said, hoping that was the right answer, or that it at least got her to tell him what breed she was thinning. But Annabeth just nodded.

“Maybe a hound dog? Or a beagle? Something medium-sized? We have a yard,” Annabeth said.

“A beagle would be cute,” Percy agreed.

“Would that be your dream dog?” Annabeth asked.

“Not sure I have a dream dog, but beagles are super cute,” he said. That was the honest truth. He thought they were pretty adorable, and they had big dog attitudes with small dog bodies. But this wasn't about his dream dog. It was about her dream dog. She was the one who'd wanted a dog ever since she'd left her doberman behind at age seven.

“What would your dream dog be, though?” Percy asked her.

“Oh, something big too, and that would be a good family dog. Maybe a lab or a collie,” she suggested.

When Annabeth fell asleep, Percy made a note in his phone, and then spent his lunch period looking up available shelter dogs. He had a few students who liked to hang out with him during lunch. One was a demigod, the other four were her mortal friends.

“You should find her a puppy,” Kaylee said as they scrolled through shelter websites. Most of the dogs were over five years old. “If it’s a baby test-run, a puppy will be better than an adult dog. And they’re so cute!”

Percy called Grover when school got out. “I need a puppy,” he said.

“Regular puppy or hellhound puppy?” Grover asked.

“Regular, family-friendly. For Annabeth. A lab or a collie or something,” Percy explained.

“I’ll ask around,” Grover promised. Plenty of satyrs volunteered in rescues and shelters, doling out long lectures about how animals were real investments, not just toys, to well-meaning parents hoping to surprise their kids Christmas morning.

“You’re the best, man,” Percy said.

Annabeth spent weeks subtly trying to get Percy to say what kinds of dogs he might like. Ever since they moved back to New York, and he’d once again left Mrs. O'Leary in New Rome, her husband had been a bit bummed out, staring wistfully at every dog they passed on the street.

She knew her husband would love a puppy for Christmas.

She knew she couldn’t get him another hellhound (she asked Nico), but what kind of regular dog would he want? A bernese mountain dog kind of looked like Mrs. O’Leary, and they were good with kids, but they didn’t live very long. Small dogs were practical for the city, but would Percy like something yappy?

“He likes you,” Clarisse said, as Annabeth recounted her woes.

“Hurtful,” Annabeth said back. “Look could you just … see if you can get him to give you an idea?” Clarisse taught in the classroom across the hall from Percy, turning their once antagonistic relationship into a genuine friendship and comical workplace rivalry.

“Why don’t you just ask?” Clarisse suggested.

“That would ruin the surprise,” Annabeth said.

“All I’m going to do is ask him,” she said back.

“However you want to do it is fine, just don’t tell him I’m getting him a dog,” Annabeth said.

Annabeth hated being wrong. And more than that, she hated Clarisse La Rue being right. Subtly wasn’t going to work. She needed to just ask. They were two weeks away from Christmas, and she was no closer to knowing what kind of dog Percy might want.

Thankfully, Percy had brought it up first, another one of his not-so-subtle hints that he wanted a dog: “Would you want to get a dog soon?” Percy asked.

Annabeth tried to play it cool. “Could be nice to get one before we start having kids.”

“A little practice,” Percy said with a smile.

It was finally time to just ask. “Would you want a big dog? Little dog?”

“I love a big dog, but in the city, something smaller might be better,” Percy said. Annabeth nodded, waiting a few seconds to see if he’d offer up a breed himself. He didn’t.

“Maybe a hound dog? Or a beagle? Something medium-sized? We have a yard,” Annabeth suggested. In her research, beagles were good family dogs, but not that big. Their barks weren’t yappy though, and they had a lot of energy. She could see Percy with a beagle. She'd like something a little bigger, personally, but he made a good point about the size. This was about his dream dog, not hers. He was the one who had to leave his dog behind in California.

“A beagle would be cute,” Percy agreed. She could tell from the wistful smile on his face that a beagle puppy would make him very happy.

The next day, she spent her lunch break looking for beagle puppies in New York. When that didn’t turn up many great results, she called Grover.

“I need a puppy. A beagle if you know anyone with a litter,” she said.

“ You need a puppy?” He asked.

“It’s for Percy,” she explained.

Grover paused. “Right, sure, okay. A beagle?”

“Yeah, or a hound dog, if that’s better,” she said.

“I’ll call you back if I find something,” Grover said.

A few hours later, he let her know he had a satyr friend in Queens who was fostering a litter. They’d be ready to go home right in time for Christmas.

“Your name’s on the list,” Grover said. “One of them is yours for sure, just get up there and see which one you want,” he said.

Annabeth picked out a little girl puppy in the end. She was barely three pounds, but she seemed to have all the energy in the world.

“Oh, you are going to steal all of my husband’s love and attention away from me, aren’t you?” she asked the puppy. It yapped at her, as if it say “without a doubt.”

“Oh, you are going to steal all of my wife’s love and attention away from me, aren’t you?” He asked the ten pound chocolate lab puppy. He was the runt of the litter, and given how quickly he’d stolen Percy’s heart, he was sure to steal Annabeth’s.

Hiding the little guy was going to be the hard part. His mom agreed to keep him at her place until they came over Christmas day, but he was worried about Estelle getting attached.

“Well, then you’re just going to have to come visit more if she does,” Sally said over the phone. As if he and Annabeth weren't there every Sunday for dinner.

“Thanks for watching her, Grover,” Annabeth said, dropping the puppy off at his small apartment. His current girlfriend was a rose bush in Central Park, so Grover had relocated to the city, taking up residence in Hell’s Kitchen. “I don’t know why Sally said she couldn’t take her,” she said.

“Probably just doesn’t want Estelle getting attached,” Grover suggested, keeping his attention on the puppy pattering around his apartment.

“I guess, but we see them every week. We could bring her with us,” Annabeth said about the puppy.

“Who knows,” was all Grover had to offer. “So I’ll bring her over when I come by for Christmas?”

“Yes, I’ll have you wait outside until I get Percy’s attention for the surprise,” she said.

“Good plan,” Grover said.

When his mom texted him we’re here Percy nearly sprinted out of the kitchen. Annabeth was fiddling with something in the living room as he walked by.

“Grover is walking up now,” she said, “go back to cooking, I can let him in,” she said.

“No, no, my mom just got here,” Percy said.

Annabeth looked at him confused. “Well, she and I have met. I can let her in too.”

“No, just …” he exhaled, “she has a gift for you, just close your eyes, and turn around.”

Annabeth did, obviously hesitant. “Okay,” she said, “but Grover has a present for you so if you see him … try not to see him.”

“Got it, wise girl,” Percy said, before opening the door.

He failed to not see Grover, and when Annabeth heard his chipper voice, she turned around.

Grover and his family were on the stoop. “The jig is up,” Sally said, stepping inside with the lab’s puppy carrier in her hand. She stepped into the living room and set it down as the puppy started barking.

“Merry Christmas, dude,” Grover said. Percy tried to get his head on straight. Because his mom had brought Annabeth’s puppy in already. So what was Grover holding?

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth said, kneeling at the carrier she was sure she didn't buy.

“You two are really perfect for each other,” Paul said with a laugh.

Annabeth opened the carrier and let the little chocolate lab puppy waddle his way out, before picking him up in her arms. “Hi baby,” she said. “Percy --”

She felt tears welling in her eyes, but before she could cry, she had to start laughing. Percy was on the other side of the living room, his new puppy in his arms.

“You all knew!” Annabeth said. “None of you said anything?” She was trying to sound angry, but it was no use pretending. She couldn’t be mad when she was holding a sweet little baby in her arms, one that Percy had so perfectly picked out for her.

Percy didn’t look angry either. He was holding up his beagle and letting her lick his nose.

“It was too cute,” Sally said. “It’ll be good practice in case you have twins.”

Annabeth shook her head. “Let’s not put that energy into the world.” She wanted kids, but one at a time would be ideal.

Her lab puppy got curious and wiggled his way out of her arms and towards the beagle puppy.

“You wanna say hi?” Percy asked it, placing his puppy down for them to sniff at each other. Within minutes, the two puppies were running around the living room, fast friends, and even faster holiday decoration destroyers. Not that Percy or Annabeth minded.

~ A year later ~

Percy called Max to him. The lab was staying close to Annabeth, who had, in a matter of seconds, gone from calling the dogs into the house, to throwing up in their vegetable garden.

Percy managed to get both dogs inside before either tried to eat what she’d thrown up. Nugget (full name, Chicken Nugget) was particularly food driven. They’d learned fast that beagles would simply eat until they exploded, with no cares about what they were eating. With both dogs out of the way, Percy pulled some water from a nearby puddle to wash most of the mess away.

“Morning sickness, my ass,” she complained. They’d learned quickly that it was not (a) limited to the morning and (b) not predictable at all. It was three in the afternoon; Annabeth had taken a half day and Percy hadn’t scheduled after-school activities to make it to this doctor’s appointment. Thankfully they were only walking a few blocks down the street. Annabeth had already thrown up on a fair number of subways in just two weeks.

“It’s a sign that the baby is healthy,” Percy said, rubbing her back.

“That’s because it’s stealing my health,” she complained. “Alright, I think it’s done for now. Let me just brush my teeth, and we can go.”

It was their first doctor’s appointment since the positive pregnancy test. They were hoping to see the baby and get some sonograms for the soon-to-be grandparents’ Christmas gifts in a week. Although Percy worried Annabeth’s spontaneous puking might give them away if his mom was around to see it. They’d managed to keep the secret so far. They could make it another week.

Annabeth couldn’t believe how fast she’d gotten pregnant once they started trying. Percy really must have had some strong swimmers. They were both so excited, overwhelmed with joy and both prone now to spontaneous crying, that it had swung back around to anxiety for Annabeth. The two weeks between the home test and this appointment had been filled with worry that something was wrong that she couldn’t know about.

“Everything is fine,” Percy promised, kissing her hand as they walked in.

“I’m telling you, something is … different,” she said. She knew he thought she was being a bit paranoid. How could she know what a normal pregnancy felt like, anyway. And for that matter, would a demigod pregnancy even be normal?

“We’ll always figure it out,” Percy offered as reassurance. She tried to trust him.

She was on the OB’s chair, her shirt pulled up as the OB squirted some cold goo onto her belly, barely bloated (and that might have just been holiday food).

The wub wub sound of the heart beat made Percy cry faster than she did, which she didn’t expect. Percy sat next to her, squeezing her hand as he sobbed. That made her cry more than anything. Annabeth let out a deep breath, and wiped the tears from her face as she looked at the screen, seeing mostly just wavy black lines.

“There’s your baby,” the OB said, pointing to a little peanut on the screen.

Percy, through his tears, cracked, “Aw, babe, it’s got your eyes.”

“Ope,” the OB said, moving the wand around.

“What?” Annabeth asked, as another peanut shape and additional wub wub appeared. “Oh no,” she said, covering her face with her free hand. She knew, she knew something was different about her pregnancy than Sally’s with Estelle, or Clarisse’s with her kids. She knew it. Sure, she was glad it wasn’t a bad thing, but --

“What?” Percy asked, trying to put together the images on the screen with the noise in the room.

“This is baby A,” their doctor said, pointing to the first blob they’d seen, before rolling the wand back over, “and this is baby B.”

“Two?” Percy asked, his eyes wide now.

“Two,” the doctor confirmed.

“I can’t believe this,” Annabeth said, finally turning to Percy. Leave it to him to mess with all of her best laid plans. They were going to have two babies at once. She tried to sound angry, but she ended up just smiling and laughing as she looked at him and announced: “This is your fault,” she said.

“Well,” the OB said, continuing the scan, “they’re fraternal. So there were two eggs, and two sperm. It was a team effort.”

“We are known for our teamwork,” Percy said with a grin.

“We are never going to make things easy for ourselves, are we?" Annabeth asked.

Percy leaned over to kiss her gently as the OB continued the scan. "We should be used to it by now."

#was going to go on a walk or maybe to the beach #but it was raining in socal today???#so instead have some new percabeth fic #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #sally jackson #grover underwood #clarisse la rue

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