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#sorry for 72 or something hours late post
silverzoomies · 1 year
Text
Honeysuckle
peter Maximoff x reader smut
chapter 1: sugar blues
warnings: female reader (sorry), sex pollen, aphrodisiacs, overstimulation, shameless smut, rough sex, kissing, porn with (slight) plot, canon divergence
word count: 4466
a/n: hiii !! this is my first fic posted to trunglr !! i've diverged from canon a lot here. timeline is modern day. remember deadpool 2? and the x men cameos? just ignore the fact that everyone would be old af now. pretend they're not old. also, even though he doesn't show up; it's the kelsey grammer beast btw. because i'm based. tyvm
chapter 2 here.
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Peter really didn’t mean to be such a menace.
Like, pffbbt…this was totally the most accidental instance of the classic phrase: Wrong place, wrong time. Outside of Hank’s lab, Peter noticed something he hadn’t seen the day prior. A faint light, emitting a firefly-like glow. Curiously snooping, as one naturally does, he peeked through the window of the lab door. Only to find…no one was there.
Peter checked the digital watch on his wrist. A Garfield watch. Totally sweet.
Hm.
Hank’s lab was usually occupato on late Friday evenings like today. He should’ve been inside, poking around with some newfangled gadget. Or conjuring up some gnarly formula. But, upon further inspection? The lab was entirely absent of any big, beastly scientists. Not a hint of blue fur to be found.
Maybe he took a break?
Nah. If there was one thing Peter knew about Hank? He never gave himself down time. Ever. The big guy would rather stay up for 72 consecutive hours in a row. Pounding down enough black coffee to scald his throat. Pouring through documents and schematics, keeping his brain persistently active. Such is the life of a mega nerd.
Which begged the question: Where was said mega nerd?
The faint glow from inside the lab caught Peter’s curious eye again. Tempting him to be just a little nosier. Something about the light was almost mesmerizing. Irresistible, even.
Screw it, he thought.
Even these days, in his early thirties; Peter was just as much of a menace as he was in his youth. Had he chilled out by a touch? Absolutely. Did he still enjoy a little mischief-making every now and then? Most definitely.
It really wouldn’t be so bad if he allowed himself one, quick look inside, right? A fast one. Faster than fast. No accidents. In and out.
Peter rushed through the door and into the lab at high speed. His movements were a little too careless and overconfident. And in his carelessness, he may have accidentally bumped straight into a lab table. How he hadn’t seen it coming, he’d never be able to guess.
Somewhat distracted, Peter crashed straight into the table. The force of his body against it caused a series of glass beakers and test tubes to come tumbling down. They shattered upon hitting the tiled floor below. And Peter stumbled back to try and avoid the mess.
His worn sneakers (one of the laces was untied. Must have been the true culprit. Sneaky sneakers.) crushed bits of fragile glass. The soles slid along a neon, pink substance. A glowing substance. The same, faint light he’d been hella curious about in the first place.
In seconds, a hot-pink gas unexpectedly rose into the air. It drifted upwards with a cloudiness much akin to cigarette smoke, straight from the substance Peter stepped in.
“Oh…well…shit…that can’t be good.” He mumbled to himself, pulling his earphones down to hang around his neck. Thin Lizzy’s Sugar Blues echoed quietly from them.
Peter stepped even further back the moment the foreign gas met his nostrils. He coughed, swiping away at the heavy cloud of smoke. A sweet-tasting thickness, like honeysuckle, coated his tongue and filled his throat. Peter blinked away an unexpected, stunned stupor. And he looked down at the pink glow, now having stained one of his shoes.
“Shiiiiit…shit shit shit.”
Glancing around to make sure no one saw what happened, Peter sighed. Annoyed with himself. Way to fuckin’ go, dude.
“Hope that wasn’t anything toxic.” He whispered with a soft cough, clearing his throat. Sugary sweetness littered his taste buds, and he smacked his lips.
Peter bent down to pick up the larger shards of glass on the lab floor. And as he poked through the pieces, he found the occasional strand of blue, beast hair left behind. A reminder. Which made him feel all the more guilty, knowing how annoyed Hank would be once he saw the damage. Sighing again, Peter looked over the mess of broken glass and mysterious liquids.
He shook his head. For a split second, he felt dizzy.
In a rush to clean up the evidence of his escapade, Peter tried to move quickly. However, he found his body refused to kick into speedster mode. His brain, which usually operated at lightspeed; now functioned at a pace way too mellow for his liking. He almost wanted to panic, but his reaction time moved like molasses.
Shit. Fuck. Maybe that glowy, pink substance was something toxic.
The physical effects of whatever-the-fuck he’d breathed in started, weirdly enough, in his fingertips. A strange, almost alien warmth, unlike any Peter had ever felt before. It spread from the tips of his fingers, into the thick veins of his hands. Peter hesitated, dropping a shard of glass. He raised his hand to carefully inspect it, furrowing his brows.
Should he call someone for help? Maybe wait for Hank to come back? Aw, but Hank’s totally gonna give him shit for messin’ things up so bad…
A tingling sensation in his hands kept Peter’s attention for a moment longer. The minute on Peter’s Garfield watch changed with the agonizingly slow passage of time. And a single second ticked by in silence. The only sound to be heard was that of Killer on the Loose playing through his earphones. But in his laggy state of mind, Peter barely registered the tune.
And like the flip of a switch, both Peter’s thoughts, as well as his body, finally caught up with reality. Speeding to an inhuman degree all over again. As if returning to normal. His normal.
Normalcy lasted 0.1 seconds.
Warmth lingering under Peter’s skin turned to blistering heat. A heat which immediately surged through his blood. It gave him goosebumps, causing Peter to jump in his spot. He dropped the pile of glass he’d picked up. And in a blink, Peter stood, struggling to catch his breath. Every inch of his burning body tingled, as though his veins were injected with buzzing, electric static.
The fiery buzz lit aflame in his veins, and moved with a furious rush. It settled somewhere completely unexpected. Boiling deep within his pelvis, the scorching sensation caused his muscles to tighten. And following that, Peter felt his cock spring to life. It twitched under his shining, silver jeans.
A millisecond passed, and his dick grew rock hard.
“Ohhhh-…wait…what the fuck???”
He knew he shouldn’t leave the mess he made behind. That’d be, like, mad rude. Majorly inconsiderate. And probably hazardous too? Fuck! Not fuckin’ cool!
But, at the same time, there was no way in hell Peter could face Hank, or anyone else right now. Not while this was happening. Whatever the hell this was.
Before he bolted, Peter disappeared from the lab and reappeared in a flash. He placed a wet floor sign over the mess of scattered glass and science-y substances. And left a hastily scribbled, sticky note behind:
My bad, Beastie. 
- Peter
Panicked, he made a mad dash to his (his mom’s) house. And in a blink’s worth of time, Peter disappeared behind the door to the basement. He hoped with every fiber of his speedy soul, that his mother wasn’t home to hear the sound of it slamming shut.
Once locked in the basement, Peter didn’t bother to turn on the lights. He stumbled through the messy space in a confused, feverish daze. His mind seemed to race a million miles faster. So fast, even Quicksilver himself could barely keep up. Muffled thoughts he couldn’t yet comprehend echoed in the furthest reaches of his subconscious. Peter felt his cheeks flare up with red heat, his breathing growing more labored and hot. Every step he took, every inch he moved, flooded Peter with overwhelming discomfort. Why did his clothes feel so irritating all of a sudden? His skin cringed at the sensation of cotton fabric brushing against it. Peter couldn’t breathe like this. How could anybody breathe in clothes as suffocating as these? He needed to shed them immediately. Now. Right now.
Peter tried to catch his breath as he shrugged off his signature, silver jacket. Next, came the goggles. They were tossed carelessly aside, along with his Walkman. Which he forgot to turn off, leaving it playing through a Thin Lizzy tape he’d already heard a thousand times over. Chinatown.
Sweat drenched articles of clothing were all dropped on the floor. Until Peter was left in nothing but tight, grey, boxer-briefs. And the Garfield watch. He kind of forgot about the Garfield watch.
Peter left a trail of soaked clothes to his unmade bed. Weakly, he fell into the cushions and off his quivering legs. 
For a torturous moment, all he could do was writhe around in clouded, heated agony. Every single one of his limbs ached with dull pain. And the blistering heat pooling in his pelvis made him squirm with amorous starvation.
A starvation for something he hadn’t yet figured out.
“Fuuuuuuck. Fuck this.” Peter groaned in soft, breathy pants.
A powerful surge of an even stronger, electric heat fired through him again. And his eyes flew open wide. Beady, black pupils flooded the brown of his irises. Sucking in a deep, labored breath; Peter rolled onto his back. A trickle of steaming sweat dripped down his temple. Titling his head up, Peter squinted. His vision blurred slightly as he stared ahead.
Dark, half-lidded eyes met the twitching bulge in his boxer-briefs. And he knit his brows together.
Something seemed…different.
So, like, whatever. Maybe, privately, Peter had always prided himself on his size. Most definitely above average. His dick had a nice thickness to it, and wasn’t weirdly shaped in any way. And the few times he fucked around with it, he never heard a single complaint from anyone.
But this…
Unless he was totally blind to the size of his own dick his entire life? Something really wasn’t right here. 
Another rush of hot, sticky heat washed over Peter like a feverish wave. He trembled, hissing in response to the overwhelming burn that came with it. Under the fabric of his underwear, Peter’s bulge pulsated with demanding aggression. Begging for any stimulation. In a foggy, desperate haze of sexual frustration, Peter reached downward. Hesitant fingers dragged frantically across a trail of soft, silver hairs. Guiding themselves to the waistband of his underwear. A wet spot caught his eye, and he groaned. In one, quick motion, Peter shoved the garment down his trembling legs. Slick precum pulled with the fabric, separating from the tip of his leaking head.
And Peter’s aching cock finally bounced free.
He struggled to comprehend the image in front of him. Peter rapidly blinked, staring down at his dick in muddled confusion. Blossoming desire burst with an electrifying buzz through his cock. And Peter hissed again. He sank his teeth hard into his lip, mindlessly bucking his hips into nothing.
Nothing.
An instinct in his subconscious mind forced itself forward, demanding Peter find something. And fast. His cock bounced on its own again, visibly pulsating. Thick, wet precum spilled from the tip. And he threw his head back with a whine.
“H-Holy shit…”
Yeah. No doubt about it now. Peter’s dick looked a lot bigger than he remembered. The length ached so painfully, vibrating in a most subtle way. Imperceptible to the human eye. Colored a dark, pinkish hue, and decorated with pulsing veins; Peter’s cock appeared on the verge of bursting. And the tip sputtered with so much precum, he was left wondering if he’d cum already without realizing it.
Whatever! Be cool, dude! So, yeah! He must have exposed himself to some kind of weird, sex chemical. What the hell was Hank even doing with something that potent?? No way he was saving it for personal use. Peter really didn’t wanna think about that right now.
But he couldn’t have slapped a warning label on it?
Don’t touch! Lest ye be horny!
Not that Peter would’ve seen a label anyway.
No big dealio! Maybe all he needed was to get off. And really get off. Like, maybe Peter needed to nut so hard, the afterglow would slow him down for a good, few minutes. Instead of his usual, mere seconds.
He could totally do that! Easily! If Peter felt it necessary, he could beat off in the span of a second. Maybe after? He could finally move on with his life. Never to race carelessly through Beastie Boy’s nerd lab again. Call it a lesson learned.
Peter took his girthy(er) length in his hand, the veins straining under his skin. Based on feel alone, he could tell he’d grown in size. His hand was big enough on its own as is. But his cock held an even heavier, unfamiliar weight in his palm. Extremely sensitive too. Peter’s cock was so hypersensitive, that a single, light grasp got him writhing across the bedsheets. 
He sucked in another, ragged breath. Just a quick second was all he needed. And this heinous experience would finally come to pass. Relief. Peter only wanted to feel sweet, freeing relief. 
Reminder. Note to self: Maybe don’t go barreling through any science labs like a total spaz next time.
Several, squeezing pumps of his cock happened in an instant. By the next second, Peter came in bursts. Thick ropes of cum burned hot on his skin, quickly spilling over and making a filthy mess of him.
At the height of orgasm, his body convulsed in small twitches. Subtle vibrations raced through his veins, bringing feelings of ecstasy with them. Peter bit his lip even harder to hold back the obscene moans threatening to leave his throat. He breathed humid, exasperated pants of air through his nose.
Being the king of speed, it was completely natural for Peter to recover immediately after cumming. A couple seconds, and he’d be good to go all over again. Peter secretly prided himself on this trait too. His endless stamina came (no pun intended) in handy, should any totally hot babes wanna screw around for hours at a time. 
Such a trait wasn’t so handy now. Under the alluring spell of magical, sex chemicals? Recovery took less than a nanosecond. 
Peter’s head fell forward, his hand still wrapped around his raging hard-on. Absent-mindedly, he pumped the length without thinking, spreading the remnants of his first release. Running his other hand through the damp, silver locks of his hair, Peter groaned.
“Ohhh….this sucks so bad…auuugh…”
That same, now all too familiar ache fluctuating in his cock raged on. Orgasm did nothing at all to calm the storm surging with electric, tingling heat through Peter’s body. His dick twitched, pulsating red. Desperate to bury itself deep in something hot, wet, and so tight. Fuck. Peter needed something tight around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth. And he needed it so, wickedly bad.
He pushed himself over the edge two more times. And after that, another three. Eventually, his maddening frustration got the better of him. Peter stood from his bed in a fwip. Slumped over in a heavy breathing, cum drenched mess of himself; Peter observed his sweat-soaked body in a full mirror. 
His heart hammered away fast enough to send even him into cardiac arrest. Peter couldn’t catch his breath. And no matter how many times he felt the sweet, sanctity of orgasmic release; his desire was never satiated. Peace lasted only a fraction of a second, before dissipating completely. Leaving Peter to suffer in endless, boner agony.
The next second, Peter found himself hunched over in the shower.
Cool, icy cold water cascaded down his trembling body. Bracing his hand on the wall, Peter kept his other pressed to the wet glass. In an attempt to relax himself, Peter took long, drawn out breaths. Trying to calm the stirring fire in the pit of his belly; he fought the insatiable desires raving on in the back of his mind.
The cold did little to rid him of his painful, oversensitive erection. Peter couldn’t shake his thirsty, carnal needs. Even as he basked in the peace of cool wetness on his scorching skin, horniness consumed him. Dragging him down into the flaming depths of frisky hell. Praise be to our dark lord and savior: Boner Satan.
Peter made another, more frustrated attempt at stroking himself off. Just one more time, he thought. Standing under heavenly, frigid water; Peter wrapped a warm hand around his length. He was so, insanely desperate for anything to fuck that, by now; Peter instinctively rocked his hips into his own fist. Fucking into the wetness of it, he kept a palm pressed to the shower glass.
“Please please please please please please please pl-f-fuck! Oh, please please-” Peter whined, a flurry of needy moans leaving his lips. Yet another second passed, and Peter came again. Shooting a thick load of hot cum straight onto the shower wall, he shuddered. Peter’s hips moved on their own accord. And he found himself unable to control his own movements. His cock continued to fuck itself rapidly into his fist, even despite the near-painful overstimulation coursing through his veins. 
Peter couldn’t stop the tearful moans of torturous pleasure flying off his tongue.
“F-FUCK! FUUUUCK! PLEASE!” He cried, forcing himself to free his cock.
Falling forward, Peter pressed his forehead to the cool, shower wall. And he braced himself with an elbow to its surface. Soaked, silver locks hung over his face, and Peter stared down at the shower drain in hazy thought.
He knew he was beyond exhausted, having pushed himself too far. Peter’s mutation never allowed him to sleep. But once this was all over? He promised himself he'd be taking the longest nap ever recorded in human history. Jot that one down in the Guinness World Records. 
Peter lazily blinked, his eyes half-lidded.
Time to face facts. Only one thing could possibly satisfy this unending, carnal need. Peter’s animalistic instincts blared like a siren, shrill in his ear. They screamed out - Another person. Peter needed to feel the intimate touch of another, living, breathing body. Someone to breed. That word seemed to echo in the back of his mind like a forbidden whisper. Breed. Breed. Breed.
A conflicting onslaught of embarrassment swung like a wrecking ball through Peter’s thoughts. It shattered the lecherous desire holding itself stable in his head. Sure, he needed to feel the touch of another person. But…who??
Truthfully, Peter wasn’t comfortable screwing around with anyone in this state. Had this been any normal day? And he only wanted a fun, playful fling? No strings attached? He’d be a lot more open. But…like this? Misty headed, overstimulated, and choking to death on an ultra-desperate, sweet smelling, horny spell? C’mon! That’s just-...that’s so, majorly embarrassing! How was he even supposed to explain this totally weird scenario to anyone anyway? 
Sup, babe! So, I was fuckin’ around. Bein’ a pest. Y’know, as usual. And I sorta knocked some stuff over in ol’ Beastie’s lab. Yeah. There was this weird aphrodisiac involved, I guess. It was totally an accident, by the way. But I’m, like, so horny right now I can’t breathe. Already tried jerkin’ off. Yeah. Like, a lot. So, uh…listen…wanna screw?
Nope! Not happening! No way in hell!
But dammit all, he needed it! Peter was so, painfully hard and starving to fuck; he was almost convinced he’d die if he didn’t get to. If he didn’t bury his dick in something so deep and warm; if Peter didn’t stuff someone full of enough cum to cause a pregnancy scare. He would literally die. Plain and simple. A fact of science. Confirmed by Bill Nye himself.
What else was he supposed to do? Ask Hank for advice? Pfffbbt…
Burning, insatiable desire swarmed Peter again. He disappeared from the shower in an instant, now completely dried off. And he paced the basement at a speed so quick, he looked nothing more than a nude blur in the wind.
Okay. Fuck. Who, man? Who?? Think about this logically! How could Peter get his dick wet with as little embarrassment involved as possible?
Peter’s first thought?
You.
It shouldn’t have been you. But it was you.
Because of course you were his first thought. Peter had known you long enough now, that he felt he could trust you with anything. Even wickedly awkward situations like this one. You were his best friend. His dorky, little partner in crime. So patient, and so understanding. He knew for sure you’d never, in a million, bajillion years, judge him. For anything. No matter what.
Not to mention, you’d look so damn fine with your ass bent over for him, eagerly taking his coc-
Peter shook away the thought.
Jeez…that’s…a hella twisted thought to have about your best bud, dude.
Regardless of what Peter told himself, his instincts seemed to think otherwise. He felt his cock pulsate with painful, aching need again. And yet another, more torturous burst of heat blazed like a wildfire through his blood. Peter had become so oversensitive, he couldn’t hold back anymore of his needy, whiny noises.
Bolting to his bed in a flash, Peter grabbed a pillow. And he buried his face into the plush of it to conceal his moans.
“A-Aaaaa…fuck-” He whined, his voice muffled. What followed was a distressed laugh.
Focus! Focus, you horny spaz!
Other options. What were his other options, if any?
Some random stranger? No.
One: Peter wasn’t at all comfortable with total randos touching him like that. And Two: Talking some randy into messing around would take wayyyyy too long. Peter didn’t have the patience for it. Especially not right now.
You.
Mystique? Hot. So hot, she’s deadly. But, no.
She was Hank’s girl anyway. What kinda bro would Peter be to steal her away, just to relieve some horny tension? And tension he brought upon himself, while being a nuisance in Hank’s lab, no less. That’d be messed up, man! 
You.
Any other members of the X-Men? 
Ehhh…probably not. Most of ‘em were too young for Peter anyway. How warped would it be if he went to them in need of a sexual favor? They already thought he was a bit of a screwball. Why make it any worse?
You.
Wade Wilson?
He’d been assisting the X-Men a lot lately. All under the guidance of mister Russian, steel-dick himself: Colossus. Wade was a pretty eccentric guy. And a huge pervert. Really kinky. The kind of dude who’d be open to virtually anything if the right person asked him. So… why not?
But Wade would probably have a field day ripping Peter’s dignity apart. And more than likely, he’d spill the details to everyone completely unprompted. Plus, he’d be so obnoxious and teasing about Peter’s situation the whole time. And when was Wade ever gonna stop calling Peter ‘Jeffrey’ for no reason?? That shit didn't make any sense! Augh…
Nah. Couldn’t be him.
You.
Peter sucked in another, shuddering breath. His limbs trembled in humming surges of unbearable pleasure. As his pulsing cock bounced in a distracting desire for touch; Peter forced himself to ignore it. He checked his Garfield watch, squinting to make out the numbers through hazy vision.
Right about now? He knew your schedule should be open. Peter had memorized your daily doings at a distance. In a totally-not-creepy way. More in a clingy-lost-puppy-who-missed-your-company kinda way. Not that you knew about it. Which…yeah…maybe that did make it a little weird. Oops.
Peter fell onto his back on his bed, sinking into the blankets. He rapidly drummed his fingers on his bare belly. And he nipped his bottom lip in thought.
He’d always been a bit of a risk-taker. Facing the forbidden often gave Peter a kind of rush he sorely missed at this point in his life. And of all the risky chances he could take, none would be as forbidden as sticking his dick in his best friend.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before. No duh, he’d thought about it. A lot. Ever since he met you, Peter hadn’t been blind to the obvious. Of course, he noticed how your hips swayed as you walked. How could he resist staring at the fullness of your lips, while you giggled at another one of his corny jokes? And it was virtually impossible to ignore the way your eyes sparkled up at him. Especially when he called you babe. And what about the cute look on your face when you blushed, all because Peter teased you one, too many times? 
Wait. Shit.
Either he was way too far gone, and lost without hope in a desolate desert of horny.
Or…Peter only just now realized he was totally, undeniably in love with you.
Probably both. Or, maybe? Just horny.
Teeth sinking further into his lip, Peter grinned mischievously through the pink flush in his cheeks. He’d been absentmindedly stroking his cock while lost in a daze of filthy, wreckless thoughts. Ultra, mega, next-level, wreckless thoughts.
Peter should have known. The very instant he thought of turning to you for help? He was done for. No turning back. No other option. There was nobody else in the world he’d rather screw around with right about now.
Another thought flashed through Peter’s mind. Like a brilliant light. The image of you on your back in his bed. Your legs spread open wide, just for him. Your gorgeous, doe eyes timidly looking up at him as you helped guide his cock into your-
Peter’s throbbing dick stood to immediate attention then. So, extremely rock hard it seemed to have a mind of its own. Peter’s cock pulled itself from his grasp, pulsating with a swell of hot desire. For you. And only you. 
He really, really, really shouldn’t do this. It’d be leagues beyond stupid. Reaching levels of stupidity only found in far off, distant universes.
But, hey! Peter might literally die! So, fuck it. Right? No way you’d be happy if he died. His death would most definitely break your heart. And he didn’t wanna break your heart!
A fwip, and Peter grabbed his phone from where it was buried, deep in some sofa cushions. His phone was a device he barely ever used. Social media wasn’t his forte. Peter wasn't afraid to admit; he was pretty out of touch. He still listened to cassette tapes on a Walkman, for fuck’s sake.
Typing something into his phone in a heated stupor, Peter’s fingers sped across the keys. Embarrassingly enough, he found he made an ungodly amount of spelling errors. Not his fault. He could barely even think straight. Instead of correcting his mistakes, Peter erased the text entirely. Replacing it with something much more simple and to-the-point.
He only hoped you’d understand.
- Basement. SOS
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coffee-writesthings · 1 month
Text
so like months ago me and @lonewolfinthetardis came up with a sort of collaborative thing (we both write a fic with the same prompt and then share them) and then I basically didn't touch it for however long, until now! This is gonna come in 4 parts, with this as the first one (dw they'll all be connected to the same post lol)
Spy entered the meeting room, where Sniper and Miss Pauling were already waiting for him.
“Fashionably late,” said Sniper, “like always.”
He retorted, “At least I’m fashionable. You look like you crawled out of a dumpster.”
“And you wear 10,000$ suits to the bloodiest job on the planet.”
“Boys.” Miss Pauling snapped, there wasn’t enough coffee in the damn world to deal with these two. Once satisfied that they had stopped squabbling like siblings, she spoke again, “I have a job for the two of you.”
“Why just us?” Sniper asked.
“Think about it for a few seconds. You’re both the most efficient mercs here by a long shot.”
“Well thank you, Pauling. Though I think you’re mistaken. I’m efficient in killing, but he,” he stared daggers at the other man, “is efficient at taking shots. He doesn’t kill.”
“Look at me in my eyes, Spy. Just how much do you think I care about your banal, stupid differences? Does it match up, at all, with how much I want to smack you in the face right now?”
“I can help with that part.” Sniper interjected smugly, “She doesn’t care about how it gets done, just that it does.”
“Fine. What’s our mission?”
She pulled up a map with locations of both RED and BLU bases, the various battlefields for their fights, among various other things like the town of Tuefort. However, she ignored that, in favor of taking a massive red pen to circle one location in particular, far off to the east from their base. “There’s a gala going on here, and they have something we want. I can’t be more specific, just know it’s important to the Administrator-- if you fumble this operation, it’s your head, and Respawn won’t save you.”
“Please, there’s no way you’d be able to turn off Respawn. Right?”
“Do you really want to test that theory when I have a gun pointed at your face?”
“Understood ma’am.
Spy asked the question he usually asked when it came to missions, “What are our covers?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” she actually did seem a little glad, if not like she had a plan up her sleeves. Passing out a small pile of identifications and a sheet of paper to each man, she explained, “Your name, Sniper, is going to be Michael. You’re married to Spy. His temporary name is Samuel.”
“Like hell I’m going to marry the spook!” he looked at him, “Ugh, can’t even imagine kissing you.”
“I can imagine it,” he gagged, “You probably taste like the coffee you drink all day.”
“And you probably taste like week-old cigarettes.”
Before they could descend into stupidity, she pulled out a whistle, blowing on it hard, “Get yourselves together! You’re trained killers, not toddlers who can’t share a toy.”
They shared a look of disgust.
“Listen. It’s three days. You can get over yourselves for three days. It’s only 72 hours, probably less if you get there and back faster. And, once you’re back, you can go to town on each other all you want.”
Sniper took a deep breath, gathering himself. She had a point-- he was supposed to be polite, efficient. And, well, he could just get it over with and then he’d never have to think about it again. “I’ll do it. Sorry for the… outburst.”
“Thank you, for cooperating like an adult. Spy?”
“If I leave him to die, can I collect his paychecks?”
“Spy.”
“Sorry, sorry-- I jest. I’ll do it.”
~ Scene Break ~
So as not to arouse suspicion when they’re at the gala, Sniper plans to take his van, but leave it some ways away from the venue. Getting into it brings some comfort to the fact that he has to work with Spy for this mission.
What was it he hated so much about him, though? Was it the snobbishness, the way he was just an asshole to everyone, or something else?
“This is what we’re staying in for the next several days? I think I’d prefer death by fire to this.”
Ah, it was definitely the way he was a snobbish asshole.
“Get over yourself, Spy. Like it or not, this is where we’re gonna live together, for a bit.”
“I’ll do it, but I’m going to complain the whole time.”
“Do that and I gag you with that mask of yours.” Sniper got into the driver’s seat as Spy got into the Passenger’s.
“You might as well drive a mile away and shoot out my tongue at that point. It’s so typical of you to run away from your problems.”
“Well look who’s talking! Scout’s your damn kid and he doesn’t know-- you really think you’ve got legs to stand on here? You- you get too close, Spy.”
“And you’re too far away. I get up close because that's the only way for me to kill.
“These three days better pass fast.” he growled.
“That’s one thing we can agree on.”
A few hours passed, where Spy found that he had fallen asleep. He awoke to the sounds of Sniper humming to some quiet song, a smile on his face— the sunlight shone into his beautiful brown eyes. How could someone he never really liked have such a fairytale face?
He dismissed the thought, going back to sleep after his momentary - severe - lapse in judgement.
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crinkled-emotions · 2 years
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35, 63 and 72 for my poor boy Roo please. Love the Daderick vibes you write
Poor Rooster... this is definitely not my doing 👀😂
Also! I'm considering posting these on my ao3- CallMeG . It'll be titled something basic bitch like "tumblr requests" etc etc... then I'll update it every time we do something like this! Is anyone down for next weekend? If you find a prompt list that looks good please send it through!
I nearly introduced an oc I’ve been working on for the last three months, but I got the idea you wanted Daderick Vibes (tm 😂
35. "Why have you been hiding this from me?", 63. "I don't have time to sleep off a cold." and 72. "Person A hasn't been sleeping due to work, and they of course get sick. Despite Person B's wishes, Person A continues to sneak out of bed and stay up late to get more work done, and Person B is not happy."
Notes: went cold... flu... stomach flu... appendicitis? Even though there’s no correlation between stress and appendicitis? No, stomach flu.
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Maverick stirred when he heard the front door open and was immediately on high alert, reaching for the baseball bat resting beside his bed. Then he heard coughing, followed by gasping for air. Sighing, he put the bat back.
He knew exactly who had just come home. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick found his shirt on the dresser and poked his head out the door.
“Bradley? That you?”
“Hey, Mav. Sorry I woke you.”
Bradley looked... wrecked, to say the least. His shoulders were slumped and he was pale except for the feverish flush on his cheeks. Maverick knew he was coming down with something, but he wasn’t at the point where he was ready to ask for help. He was, however, probably going to work himself to the brink of collapse.
“Have you had dinner, kid? You left here at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Nah, Hangman did a Hangman so I got hauled in front of Cyclone.”
“How does that work?” Maverick frowned, a hint of amusement tugging at his smile. Bradley ran his hand through his hair, sniffing.
“I dunno.”
“B,” Maverick said softly, “maybe you should take tomorrow off. I think you’re getting sick. You’ve got the pale hot flush going.”
“I don’t have time to sleep off a cold.”
“Bradley.”
“No, Mav, it’s just not an option right now.”
Bradley yawned, wincing at his sore throat.
“I’m going to bed. It’s late.”
Maverick watched his son step into the bathroom and close the door, that parental instinct in his gut telling him to listen for him overnight. Just in case.
Sure enough, two hours later Maverick was rudely awoken by a door slamming against a wall. He grimaced, scrubbing at his eyes as he sat up. He thought they were past these days about twenty years ago. Apparently getting sick in the night is something you don’t age out of. Hauling himself out of bed, Maverick made his way back down the hallway and knocked on the door.
“Roo?”
“Go away, Mav.”
“It’s okay, kid. Let me in.”
The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened after a moment. Maverick frowned.
“How long have you been throwing up?”
“I dunno, yesterday?”
He winced, holding a hand out to stop Maverick getting any closer.
“Hold that thought.”
He shut the bathroom door in Maverick’s face. Maverick grimaced, reaching for the doorknob.
“Roo, I’m coming in. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Mav.”
Maverick stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, getting it wet under the tap then wringing it out to place on the back of Rooster’s neck.
“Is that better, Roo?”
“Hmm...”
He pitched forward and tried to empty his stomach again. Maverick winced, rubbing a hand between his shoulders.
“Breathe, kiddo, it’s okay. Shhh...”
Maverick managed to get Rooster tucked into bed a little while later, teeth brushed, fever meds and water in his system and a bucket by his bed. He’d passed out the second his head hit his pillow, snoring as loud as he usually did. Maverick sighed, cupping his forehead with his palm.
“Okay Roo, I’m gonna go make some phone calls,” he whispered more to himself than to Bradley.
When his alarm went off the next morning Rooster groaned, smacking his phone twice with his hand and missing both times. The third time he attempted it the phone fell off his nightstand and clattered to the floor. He was kind of glad he’d put the hard shell case on it last week because he usually didn’t bother. Wincing at the alarm still going off, he carefully reached his arm down. He found the bucket first, unused luckily, before following the charging cord to his device and switching off the blaring alarm. He was surprised Maverick hadn’t come to check on him. He hesitantly swung his legs around, feet finding the cool hardwood floors. He winced, cupping his sensitive stomach.
That was a negative on breakfast, then. Hopefully he’d be able to keep a cup of coffee down. Despite brushing his teeth after the last bout, his mouth still tasted disgusting and he reached for his water bottle to take a sip and wake up. The water sank like lead in his stomach and he reached for the bucket when it threatened to make a reappearance. When it didn’t after a moment, he got up from his bed and searched for a clean uniform. Once he was dressed, he quietly made his way down the stairs. Maverick was still asleep, didn’t start for another two hours, which made it easy for Bradley to sneak out the front door with a travel mug of coffee in hand. If he knew Maverick, he would insist that Bradley stay home but he didn’t have time for that. They were on a deadline to refine these pilots, he and Jake, and he wasn’t going to let Jake make complete mince meat of them without him.
By the time Maverick was awake, the Bronco was pulling out of the drive and Maverick swore under his breath, scrambling for his phone. The display glaring back at him told him it was 5:28am. Way earlier than Bradley’s usual 8am start. Sighing he got out of bed, scrolling through his contacts before he found who he was looking for.
“Seresin.”
“Jake, if Bradley shows up you gotta get him to sickbay, capiche?”
“Sir, it’s... not even 6am.”
“Jake, you’re staying in base housing. It’s a two minute walk to the car park. You can send him to sickbay or you can hold him until I get there.”
There was groaning on the other end, and Maverick suddenly got the idea Jake may have been... previously occupied.
“Jake, your wingman needs you. Don’t leave him hanging.”
Silence.
“That was straight up cold, pops. Okay, I’m going. Should I wake up Cyclone too?”
“No, I’m on my way. I already texted him last night when Rooster got home.”
There was rustling on the other end, hushed whispers.
“Wait, sir, what’s wrong with Roos?”
“He’s overworked, exhausted and sick, Jake. He could probably do with a day in bed, but no, his mother’s stubbornness stops him from that.”
“Damn, I knew something was off yesterday. Okay, I’m heading out now.”
Jake hung up and Maverick scrambled into his uniform, getting the idea he was going to have to wrangle Bradley or wait until he was too sick to get into his jet. Whichever was easier, honestly.
Jake caught Bradley in the car park, trying to breathe through a bout of nausea in the driver’s seat. He tentatively opened the door, putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Just me, chill. Mav called, he’s worried ‘bout you. What’s going on?”
“I think I’m sick.”
“I gathered from the panicked phone call I just got. What hurts?”
“My stomach... and my head... fuck.”
Rooster turned, throwing up on the pavement by Jake’s boots. Jake winced, holding the back of his neck.
“Yeah, okay, Maverick didn’t give me much to work with but I got it now. Why have you been hiding this from me?”
“Because you would make those aviators quit, the way you’re going,” Rooster hissed, overtaken by the need to gag. Jake frowned.
“What?”
“Those aviators are assholes, okay, I- I- I get it. But they’re also just kids, and you’re scaring them. They need to learn but not in the way we’re teaching now.”
“And what, you couldn’t have called Tash, or Bob, or even Javy to take over for a day? They wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m gonna puke again.”
Sure enough Rooster doubled over and Jake narrowly missed getting his boots covered in barf.
“Okay Roo, I hear you. I’ll go easier. God, why didn’t you say something sooner? I had no idea you were this worked up about it.”
Maverick’s Jeep wheeled into the lot and Rooster winced, scrubbing at his eyes where tears were threatening to leak from the gagging, but also the humiliation of being caught by Hangman, of all people. Jake didn’t move, rubbing his hand over Bradley’s back as Maverick jogged over.
“Thanks, Hangman. You can go back to whoever was in your bed now.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real sexy to return smelling like barf.”
Maverick put his hand to Bradley’s forehead, frowning.
“Okay, you need sleep and fluids. Maybe Tylenol too, if I can find some.”
“Mav...”
“I know kid, I know you’re stressed, but that’s how you got here in the first place. Deep breaths, shhhh...”
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sscrambledmeggss · 2 years
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I posted 4,520 times in 2022
That's 800 more posts than 2021!
460 posts created (10%)
4,060 posts reblogged (90%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@tthankstoyou
@rinezha
@ultravioletmorning--light
@simplysebastian
@thomas-the-goat-of-satan
I tagged 2,382 of my posts in 2022
Only 47% of my posts had no tags
#kurt hummel - 316 posts
#meg’s incoherent thoughts - 299 posts
#sebastian smythe - 256 posts
#kurtbastian - 233 posts
#ana kardashian - 151 posts
#glee - 120 posts
#ratbastian - 104 posts
#taylor swift - 99 posts
#rachel berry - 72 posts
#the raven cycle - 66 posts
Longest Tag: 142 characters
#depends on who you ask tbh 😭😭 but it’s one of those djdjd probably more likely kill 🤨 because i feel like i’d be easy to beat in a fight 🕺
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
quick question glee made up kurts eye colour? I have been gaslighted
YES, the glee fandom just randomly made it up 😭 I think the Sherlock fandom might have also helped? I also thought it was real until @dilfdarren said something about it being fake. So thus the origin search for the word began 🗽
When searching for the origin:
1) the only thing about ‘glasz origin’ when searching that doesn’t autocorrect to ‘glass’ is an urban dictionary entry:
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Safe to say it didn’t lead to much 🤨
2) when searching ‘glasz eyes’ you DO get eye pictures, but most of the people are Chris Colfer and Benedict Cumberbatch. (And a Percy Jackson character, but her eyes were never described as glasz in the books).
3) I started googling it as a last name meaning but still didn’t find anything.
4) FINALLY I came across this beautiful thing: The Etymology of Kurt Hummel’s Eyes
It definitely cleared a lot of things up 😭
Though this still didn’t answer why it’s spelling was ‘glasz’, so then I realized, “hey wait, if anyone would know this, tumblr would’ and it did. So I didn’t have to search for like two hours, but what can you do </3
anyways this post explains the reason for them turning it into the Hungarian spelling and not just the Welsh one.
But throughout all of this, a lot of the stuff I got was things like, “guys, I have glasz eyes!!” On Reddit and quora, and people on tumblr telling people they have glasz eyes etc etc. so it seems to have gotten out of the glee and Sherlock fandom, as it’s been used in other fics and fandoms and with real people as well. 😭
Anyways I’m sorry for making this answer so long, but thank you for listening to my deep dive <3
81 notes - Posted April 28, 2022
#4
Emma Woodhouse really was the first gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss wasn’t she 🤨
85 notes - Posted February 17, 2022
#3
Do you think, Hugh Jackman stays up late at night crying over the fact that Kurt Hummel absolutely obliterated him with his NTBND cover
96 notes - Posted August 5, 2022
#2
Sebastian after him and Kurt fight at the Lima Bean:
Sebastian: Something lgbt just happened to me
99 notes - Posted May 3, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Hc that every time Sebastian tries flirting with Kurt it just goes horribly wrong, like he goes,
“hey, you look pretty today 😏” but as he walks away he slams into a glass sliding door
104 notes - Posted May 7, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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simscapades · 4 years
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Penny Hyatt by @fataleromeo​ (& Daniel Ross)
Daniel and Penny are still together - AND STRONG!                                            It didn’t take long until they found an apartment, making it their own , and moved in together. They were best man and bridesmaid respectively at Jazz and Lowell’s wedding.
Daniel still works as a free lancer, his latest assignment was environmental concepts for the videogame [REDACTED] while Penny works as a designer at a clothing - retail company. She’s thinking of maybe trying out being an art consultant in the future.
In the future they’ve talked about eventually getting married and possibly having a few little ones but for now they are just happy being together.
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angryschnauzer · 4 years
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Just What I Need
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Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.
Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill
Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)
Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.
I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE
A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3
Just What I Need
 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.
 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.
 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;
 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.
 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”
 You glanced at the clock;
 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”
 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;
 “You got any Chilli left?”
 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”
 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;
 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”
 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.
 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;
 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”
 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”
“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”
 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;
 “Have a good evening Detective”
 As he turned he smiled at you;
 “Call me Walter”
 -
 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.
 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;
 “Detective” you greeted him happily
 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”
 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”
 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;
 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.
 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”
 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”
 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”
 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;
 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”
 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;
 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”
 “Sure thing”
 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;
 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”
 “I… I have no idea what that is…”
 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”
 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;
 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”
 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;
 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”
 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;
 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”
 -
 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 
 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.
 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.
 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;
 “Fuck!”
 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;
 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”
 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;
 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.
 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”
 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.
 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.
 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;
 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”
 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”
 You tighten your grip around his waist;
 “I wasn’t complaining…”
 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.
 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;
 “Leave those on…”
 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.
 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.
 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;
 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”
 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”
 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;
 “I need you inside me”
 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”
 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”
 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;
 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”
 He paused, a smirk on his face;
 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”
 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”
 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”
 “Please… please fuck me…”
 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;
 “Well, as you said please…”
 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.
 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;
 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”
 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;
 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”
 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;
 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”
 Nodding you smiled;
 “That'd be nice”
 -
 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;
 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”
 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;
 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”
 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;
 “I’d love to”
_____________________________________________
Part 2 >>>
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ltleflrt · 2 years
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To get that out of the way, I am someone who does enjoy a good bit challenge in their games, depending on a genre/mood. The "git gud" crowd can suck my entire ass though. Even if the games are balls to the wall hard, you can always provide some tips and encouragement, maybe explain a hidden mechanic that makes the game playable at all. Feeling superior to other, less experienced players, helps nobody but your fragile ego. That said, there is an argument/reason for certain games to NOT have [1/2]
an easy/accessible mode included, which is the absolute cutthroat difficulty IS the part of the artistic expression the producers were going for. This guy addresses the issue pretty comprehensively in a non-dickish, well-formulated way: youtu. be/pKyKGuGU4bw It's a lengthy watch, but i think, if anything, it helps to see the issue from both perspectives. Even if means there will always be some games I love conceptually, but simply cannot enjoy playing. Looking @ you, Bloodborne. [2/2]
Two part anon here. All that aside, I am absolutely, 100% within the "play the games the way YOU want as long as it doesn't impact the others" camp. Cheating in multi is a big no-no, obvs, but in single player? Play on easy if you want. God mode through that impossible challenge. Disable the mechanics that are pissing you off. The games are meant to be enjoyed and only a select few of them are inherently hostile to human life. And even then it's mostly a feature, not a bug.
I watched the video, and the guy lays it out very politely, which I appreciate. I still DISRESPECTFULLY DISAGREE WITH EVERY SINGLE POINT. But since you're not talking to me like a Get Good Gamer, I'm going to clarify something.
So here's the thing. My original post was primarily complaining about the bad attitudes of the Get Good Gamers. Not the games themselves. I keep buying these games and trying them, because I want to be able to experience a difficult, challenging game, but I keep getting stuck because the entry point for newbs is too high. Literally any time I complain about that, someone comes out of the woodwork with "haha get good", and I hate those people.
And then someone immediately came through my inbox and talks to me like a Get Good Gamer, even if it was presented in less of a point-and-laugh style. I flipped out. I'd apologize, but I'm still pissed off enough that I wouldn't mean it. My rage debuff has a 72 hour cooldown.
("Everyone starts out at the same level so it's fair" will ALWAYS be a stupid statement, because previous experience matters. Sorry original nonny from yesterday, I'm going to harp on this forever.)
Here's another thing. I am physically incapable of playing anything in 1st person. I get violent motion sickness. Sometimes this manifests and migraines that last all day, sometimes it manifests as actual vomiting. I can't even watch it on someone else's screen. My husband turns his monitor away from my desk when he plays them so I don't glance over at what he's playing and spend the next hour with a pounding head and roiling stomach. I can't EVER play 1st person.
So I'm locked out of a highly popular game style. Okay. After mourning the loss of another intriguing experience, I move on. Well it seems like more and more lately that the other highly popular game style is the epically hard shit. I'll be calling them Souls-like, even though I'm not just talking about Souls games. (I'm currently bashing my head against a game called Blasphemous that is tagged in Steam as Souls-like because it is hard and does not have multiple difficulty settings, but it is a side scroller Metroidvania, and plays nothing like a Souls game. Cup Head would actually be a closer analog.)
These games are often incredibly intriguing to me for the art style and the story concept. I like fantasy games and sci fi games, and I prefer them to have an element of horror on top of that. What I'm finding, when I go game shopping, is that more and more games that have the look and feel and story type that interests me, is that they're all 1st person, or tagged Souls-like. And things that don't have the Souls-like tag are often... woobified? is maybe a term that works? They're toned down for a younger audience kinda? I'm sorry if I'm not making this clear. It's definitely not the game mechanics I'm talking about, it's a softening of the art styles and storylines. Like... what I'm looking for is Diablo 3's Hell Levels. But Diablo 3 is the only game I can find like that unless I go digging through the First Person and Souls-like tags.
(Speaking of which, I'm vibrating out of my fucking chair for Diablo 4, WOOT)
So I keep trying things tagged as Souls-like, because the art style and storylines intrigue me. I'm not bad at video games, and sometimes the tags aren't accurate. Obviously different people will think different difficulty levels are harder or easier, depending on their experience, and I feel like the tag is used for any game without the ability to change difficulty settings even if the game isn't spirit-crushingly difficult. Some of them I can get through (I'm actually doing pretty well with Blasphemous), and some of them are a waste of my money.
Honestly, if more of these games had demos, it would make me feel better about this. Because I actually quite enjoy a challenge, but I'm finding things that are either Too Easy or Too Hard, with nothing in between, and in order to test if a game Just Right I have to shell out money up front.
And I do go find cheats if it's a game I'm still interested in playing, but MANY of them are now being put behind paywalls. So I have to shell out MORE money. I think it's fair for the cheat creators to ask for money for their work, I would never argue against them getting paid, but a paywall is still a wall blocking accessibility. And I don't necessarily want unlimited health or magic points or whatever, I just want monsters to have 25% less health and maybe some slower attacks so that I have a split second more to think about my next move.
Going back to the whole artistic vision thing, I totally understand why creators and gamers want these extremely hard, challenging games. But a game with difficulty settings still allows the hardcore folks to start on Ultra Nightmare 9th Level Of Hell difficulty. No one is stopping them from doing that. No one is stopping them from turning on a game, cranking the setting up to Oh Fuck I'm Going To Die, and starting there. (Personally, I start every game on Normal mode and see how it feels before I fiddle with the difficulty settings.) But the game is stopping literally everyone else from playing if there's not multiple difficulty settings.
That video you shared quoted Miyazaki:
We don't want to include a difficulty selection because we want to bring everyone to the same level of discussion and the same level of enjoyment so we want everyone to first face the challenge and overcome it in some way that suits them as a player. We want everyone to feel that sense of accomplishment. We want everyone to feel elated and join the discussion on the same level. We feel if there's different difficulties, that's going to segment and fragment the user base. People will have different experiences based on that different difficulty level.
He keeps saying Everyone. But someone with hand-eye coordination issues playing on Easy Mode would face the same actual challenge as someone without those issues with more experience playing on Ultra Hard mode. Everyone is not the same level of gamer, just because the game itself only has 1 difficulty level.
But they don't actually want Everyone to have the same experience. They've convinced themselves they do. But this idea they have that a single difficulty level gives everyone an even playing field is a lie.
These game developers make their games harder and harder and harder for the Elite players. Which isn't necessarily bad; I don't want those people to NOT feel challenged. By all means, keep going, weed out everyone until One Supreme Gamer rules them all.
But for god's sake, please stop trying to justify the 1 difficulty setting with "everyone starts out in the same place." It's a MYTH. Just be honest that you only want to make games for a small group of people! Try to convince that small group of people to stop being dicks about it to people who express frustration because the game wasn't made for them!
I'm tired of the attitude. The fucking ableism. The shrinking pool of games that interest me that don't have the 1st person or Souls-like tags.
Anyway, I know these games will continue to be made, I know I will continue to be sad about it, and I know that people are going to continue to disagree with me. If anyone has made it to this point of the post, don't bother coming back to argue with me. Get Good Or Give Up style messages will invite the block button, and good faith arguments will be ignored, because every time it's brought up it refreshes my 72 hour Rage Debuff. I'm done.
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allegra-writes · 4 years
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"Bad together"
Prologue: Benjamin Reilly
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Peter Parker x Reader
General audiences
Warnings: none.
"And if I'm dead to you
Why are you at the wake?
Cursing my name, wishing I stayed"
My tears ricochet - Taylor Swift
"... It's a disaster! Look at her! It's like someone took a look at Black Cat, selected everything that made her sexy and then took it out!"
Black Cat. The name froze the young photographer on his tracks right outside his boss' office. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, the last sighting had been well over a year ago. He would know.  After all, it had been him, the very last person to have seen Felicia Hardy, alive or dead.
"What are you talking about? That looks hot af, not to mention badass!" Jade's persuasive voice reached his ears, making him smirk: It was no secret the chief editor had a soft spot for the young intern. And, on her part, the petite brunette was a firecracker. Poor old Jameson didn't stand a chance. "Come on, dad. Single handedly taking down three of the Kingpin's goons? That's impressive. It deserves to be one of the slides!" 
"Not if we don't get a higher quality picture. That blurry video is good enough for a thumbnail, but not for a slide" Slides were a big deal, they were the Dailybugle.net's equivalent of a front page, and if J. Jonah Jameson took something seriously, it was his web site. He prided himself in the quality of the "receipts" of his "tea", as if that validated the trashiness of the bullshit articles he posted, more fiction from hyper imaginative wannabe writers than serious work from real reporters. 
"Well, then let's get the pictures. Where is that star photographer of yours?" 
The photographer rolled his eyes, typical Jade. As if the queen of cool didn't know his name. As if she hadn't graced his bed a handful of times already. 
"That's a good question. Dolores, get me Reilly!"
"I'm here, Jonah" Ben finally stepped inside the office, throwing an envelope on Jameson's desk before throwing himself on a chair across it. He could feel Jade's eyes on him, almost like a physical caress, trailing from the long, slick back curls on the top of his head, to the muscles of his arms, threatening to rip open the seams at the sleeves of his white t-shirt, to his jean clad thighs. Still, he didn't turn to look at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction. 
"What do you have for me today, boy?"
Ben gesticulated vaguely with his head in the direction of Jade, and Jameson caught the hint. 
"Jade, out!" 
"But, dad, my story!" The petulant reply left her mouth before she could stop it, undoubtedly the product of years of habit. But she had the grace to look embarrassed and leave the office without another word, trying to save whatever professionalism she had left. 
Once she was gone, Jameson opened the envelope, flipping through the various pictures of a masked figure swinging around New York in a black and red suit. 
"Hmmm… these are good" the older man praised, staring at the images of a frustrated robbery at 5th avenue
Ben snifled nocomitically,
"There was a fire at 16th avenue happening at the same time" He offered, "we could use that. Spider-Man forgets his roots and leaves his old neighborhood to fend for itself, running off to save some pretty socialite…"
"Oh, that is excellent! See, this is why I like you, kid. You have initiative. Unlike these snowflakes out there. Oh, but Spider-Man is a hero. Hero, my ass"
"Well, when you watch your so called hero sit back and do nothing as your life gets destroyed" Ben shrugged, "the rose colored glasses tend to fall off…"
Jameson made a face at that,
"Yeah, about that… I'm sorry. For the role the Daily Bugle played on that…"
Ben shook his head, 
"You thought you were getting the truth out there. It's not your fault to have been played, along with half the world. Plus," he added, sounding genuinely enthusiastic, "you gave me this job. And now we can really tell the truth"
"Even when our idea of the truth is somehow different" The older man scoffed, flipping around a picture of Spider-Man sat on what appeared to be a hammock of his own webs, eating a hamburger and reading something that looked suspiciously like a comic book, "Still hung up on that high schooler theory of yours?"
"Well, if it talks like a brat and acts like a brat…" Ben took out another envelope, this time containing a few burger king wrappers and, effectively, a spider-man comic book. 
"Where did you even get these?"
"Harlem" was Ben's curt reply, and Jameson knew that was as exact a location as he was going to get. 
"So you still believe this is a copycat? Some kid playing dress up"
Ben simply shrugged again. 
"Well, there seems to be an epidemic of those lately" Jameson admitted, indicating Ben to come closer, passing a tablet to him, "Jade just handled me this, take a look"
Ben took a deep breath, steeling himself, already knowing what he was going to see in it. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but hope to be wrong. To hope the silver haired figure facing three much bigger, stronger looking ones as he pressed play, wasn't the same one he had spent weeks memorizing last summer. Wasn't the body he had found solace in, when everything fell apart, once again, for the hundredth time in his life. 
To hope it wasn't you. 
But when in his twenty-two or so years of existence, had things ever gone his way? 
Ben felt the screen crack under his fingertips.
"I've heard of her" he lied through his teeth, "didn't even think she was real, to be honest. Extremely elusive, and cunning." That much was true, "I don't understand how something as mundane as a security camera managed to catch her…" 
Unless you wanted to be caught, that was. 
"Well, I don't care if she's the fucking Loch Ness monster, I want an HD picture of her on my desk tomorrow to go with Jade's article. I already have a headline: New Catastrophe Jen wreaks havoc on Hell's Kitchen" Jameson's eyes lit up with glee as he weaved his hands up in the air, like writing on an invisible marquee. 
Ben snorted
"Don't you mean Calamity Jane?"
Jameson's face fell, the color rising to his cheeks, characteristic vein popping on his forehead. 
"I meant what I meant, boy! Now, what are you still doing here? You have 24 hours to get me that picture"
"I'm going to need 72," came Ben's unphased reply, "and I want twice what you pay me for the spidey pics"
Jameson's vein looked about ready to explode,
"48 hours. And deal."
Ben jumped from his seat and bolted out of the office before his boss could change his mind, not realizing until it was too late that he was on a collision course with a sweet looking short haired blonde girl. 
"Watch where you're going! Jeez!"
"Me? You're the one who crashed against me!" 
Ben rolled his eyes, but crouched next to the girl anyway, helping her gather the papers that had been sent flying on impact back together.
"Peter? Oh my god, is that you?"
Of course. What an idiot, he should had recognized that annoying, shrilly voice the second he heard it. It had caught him off guard, something he knew he couldn't afford. But how could he had ever imagine he could run into Betty fucking Brant, Yale cum laude, in the freaking dailybugle.net headquarters of all places?
"Sorry, sweetheart. You must confuse me with someone else…" He mumbled, lowering his head even more in a vain attempt to hide his face.
"Of course not!" She insisted, "You're Peter, Peter Parker, we went to Midtown together!"
"Miss, I have no idea what you're talking about…"
"Don't be silly, Peter!" She chuckled, completely deft to his tone or the way his whole demeanor had changed the second she had called him by the old name. "How have you been? Oh, just wait until I tell Ned, he's going to be so-"
CRACK.
At last, the tablet that had been in peril ever since Jameson had put it in Ben's hands, the one that contained his assignment, met its demise, both broken halves falling to the ground, along with all the papers he had picked up for Betty. It was several moments before he could get the shaking of his hands under control, before the tar black rage inside him subsided enough for him to be able to move without shifting. But it had.
"Peter Parker is dead." He deadpanned, dark brown eyes finally meeting Betty's stunned blue ones, "Tell Ned that, he'll probably be glad to hear it"
With that, he stood up and walked away, leaving a confused and agitated Betty behind. 
To be continued...
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chicoriii · 3 years
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Season 4, Episode 4 - Mr Pigeon 72
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I have no idea where to start. This episode has some good things and some extremely stupid.
Marinette isn't still completely fine, but I prefer when she deals with it through being hyperactive than being a whining crybaby.
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I know people don't agree with me, but personally I don't buy the whole revealing identity to Alya. It's not a problem with Alya herself, I would say the same about every single character who is not named Alix Kubdel at this point of the story. I haven't written anything in my post about Gang of Secrets, because I thought it would be undone in some way at the start of the next episode. The creators did nothing to explain why revealing identity of Ladybug to anyone was super dangerous and would result in a catastrophe in seasons 1-3 and the first two episodes of S4, but it's magically fine in episode 3. Only Alix made sense to me, as she will be the rabbit Miraculous holder, so she is destined to discover identities of everyone sooner or later and Marinette is aware of that. While it's not necessary to learn identity of anyone to other temporary Miraculous wielders, including Alya. Also that reveal hasn't been foreshadowed in season 3, while the show usually does it, especially if it's about something as important as that! More, in late S3, it's been shown that Alya still can't resist to not talking about Marinette's love life with Nino, despite she asked her to not do it. Now the girl, who is overly excited about superhero stuff, has no problems with even accidental revealing anything to Nino or someone else. She's even "stealing" Bunnix line that she's great at keeping secrets (sorry but you, the creators, haven't shown us that she's indeed is before!). This is why I think that reveal hasn't been planned before they started writing season 4.
But okay, I can deal with it, even if I don't buy it, but things these happened in Mr. Pigeon 72 are even more inconsistent with previous seasons. I have been worried about it, so it doesn't surprised me. For some reason Guardian related-things that have been kept in a secret before from everyone minus current Guardian and the future Guardian, are now fine being done in front of Kwamis (remember, they haven't been allowed to learn about making potions before!) and a civilian who is just a temporal Miraculous holder, not someone who is supposed to be trained to be a new Guardian. You can say - new Guardian, new rules, but why? Marinette has been portrayed as someone who respect authorities, she has never questioned any Fu's rules. It wasn't even said in the episode that she's going to change the rules. I hate that the writers don't even bother to explain us what's going on. Probably they don't bother about consistency, they think the audience is going to be too excited about Alya knowing Ladybug's identity and helping Marinette to question anything about it? How Alya could be allowed to learn the Guardian secrets? She is just best friend of the protagonist, she is not one of the main characters to get that special treatment. I makes zero sense to me. Especially since Su-Han will be introduced in episode 6 and he should help Marinette with understanding the Grimoire, Alya isn't necessary here for any other reason than fanservice.
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In my opinion the way how they discovering how to make charms that protects from akumasitation was the most stupid thing that happened this season and one of the most in the whole show. Marinette who is the new Guardiand and portrayed as someone extreme intelligent and creative couldn't find the solution for days, but Alya with zero training magically discovered it in a few hours at worst. And when she told her the solution in not even very clear way, Ladybug did it immediately with no effort. That was so anticlimactic. At least the animation was fine, but other aspects of it was just a big disappointment, and I was looking forward for it. Thank goodness it's just the beginning of the season, I hope later important events of the season will be better written and portrayed.
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Also I find it absurd that Rena Rough is walking with a page from the Grimoire like it's just an ordinary book and she's talking about it in front of a random civilian, like things that are written there are nothing special. She or Ladybug are not careful about Miraculous lore anymore. Not to mention that they are giving hints that Rena is very close to Ladybug in public, suspiciously close. And now with them being too careless, that's not hard to suspect that Rena Rouge is someone very close to Ladybug, maybe even as a civilian. Shadow Moth knows Rena Rouge's identity, and it's easy to him to learn who is Alya Cesaire's best friend if he doesn't know it yet, after all his son is in the class with her. Marinette has always been super careful and serious about her duties before, why that sudden change with zero explanation? It's just very out of character to her in my opinion.
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I didn't like the akuma battle either, it's now the worst fight of the season in my opinion. It was so short and felt very lazy. I only liked that Plagg got some action and interaction with Ladybug (though it should be suspicious for her that he managed to reach to her that fast). He should be aware now that Alya knows Ladybug's identity but he acts like nothing happened. Not a word about it being unfair towards his kid or something, weird.
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Thankfully the rest of the episode is generally more or less fun to me. It was nice to see Marinette and Kagami interacting again. I loved Kagami in the episode, although it was a bit weird to me that she isn't seemed to be affected by her breaking up with Adrien. Like her crush was very shallow, so she managed to recover herself from it very quickly. While it's been shown that Luka is hurt, despite Lukanette always seemed to be much more shallow than Adrigami in my opinion. But maybe it's because she's so down to earth, so being less emotional makes sense for her character. I liked how her attitude was opposite to Marinette's hyperactive: "No, I don't want to be in a relationship with Adrien again, he disappointed me, just let me live!!!". And she's another character who said that Marinette and Adrien are made for each other. I'm not surprised that Kagami sees it now when she tried to be with him and that didn't work. She's observant, sees more than many other characters. It seems she's an Adrienette shipper now. It's also good that her issue with Adrien wasn't resolved that easily and too fast. They need more time, but I'm sure they will be friends again.
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So, we've gotten shirtless Adrien. I remember seeing a tweet of Thomas in which he answered to a question if there will be a beach episode and he said we will get something similar. I wonder if he meant this episode. Oh, they just remembered that Adrien is supposed to be allergic to feathers. It seems Adrien has allergic reactions only when it's somewhat related to the plot. When it's not, he's completely fine.
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The reference to the famous Umbrella Scene™ out of nowhere in a random episode? It probably means something. I can see "reverse crush" supporters interpreting it as a proof to their theory, especially since this time Adrien did something clumsy and Marinette is laughing because of it (actually both of them). Or maybe because it's the first episode of season 4 with Marinette and Adrien interactions, they decided to be that much gracious for Adrienette fans, to compensate lack of it in the first three episodes. Oh wow, Marinette managed to propose spending more time together to Adrien without stuttering. Probably because she has done it spontaneously. Marinette is the most nervous when she's planning and thinking what could go wrong too much. This time she had no time to it, so it went more smoothly. It's like they building development of their relationship, but it didn't seem in Guiltrip (that's episode 11 chronologically) that something changed.
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Seeing screenshot above, you can easily imagine how great friends they could be, being very comfortable around each other and laughing together, if not Marinette's anxiety. We need Adrienette development so much to get more moments like this.
Oh and I just realized that it's also one of the veeeeery few episodes with no real Ladynoir at all (the only other one I remember is Style Queen). So if there was no Adrienette it would be an episode without interactions of two main characters at all (although we almost got Ladrien). It could be another reason why this episode is that nice for Adrien and Marinette ship.
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After seeing overly excited Marinette dancing in the rain, I can't believe she can manage completely give up on Adrien. It doesn't look like this at all.
Also we've seen three photos of Adrien wearing THAT scarf. It could not mean nothing different that foreshadowing that he's going to discover the truth about it somewhere this season. But I have no idea what Ladybug's mask with shining eyes could mean.
I don't know what to think about the episode. Despite absurd Guardian-related things, I still liked it much more than Gang of Secrets, but I have no idea if I generally enjoyed it more than other episodes of this season or not. At least it's an episode without stupid drama, which is amazing.
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I'm currently less active on social media, because my internet connection is very unstable, it often works very slowly to the point I'm not patient enough to visit Tumblr. Also I block spoiler tags again, because I don't want to see spoilers from the episodes those are going to be released very soon, as I feel that they reveal too much to me once more. We're currently in a marathon of the new episodes and since watching them is the more more enjoyable, the less I know about them, I decided to try avoid spoilers as much as I can. The only bad thing is that I can't be read discussions about the new episodes, reblog them and adding something from me until Optigami will be aired.
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katorainwonderland · 3 years
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I posted 2,650 times in 2021
24 posts created (1%)
2626 posts reblogged (99%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 109.4 posts.
I added 285 tags in 2021
#chris evans - 58 posts
#tom hiddleston - 39 posts
#sam wilson - 32 posts
#anthony mackie - 30 posts
#loki - 29 posts
#sebastian stan - 23 posts
#bucky barnes - 22 posts
#steve rogers - 21 posts
#marvel - 16 posts
#supernatural - 15 posts
Longest Tag: 72 characters
#daddy mad cuz i been gone for hours and ain’t tell him where i was going
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
Infatuation Ch. 4
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Summary: Chris and Y/N have a talk about problematic journalism and celebrate their 1 year anniversary with a few surprises.
Word Count: 1,977
Warnings: 18+ cuz there is smut, explicit sex scene, spanking, daddy kink, being called good girl, little girl, some teasing, oral(m receiving), praise kink, breeding kink(just a little), Chris has a dirty mouth, feelings because that’s a warning lol
Author’s Note: Well, this chapter came quick(pun intended😂) I don’t know exactly where this is going but it’s going somewhere. Thanks so much for the likes and reblogs on the last 2 chapters, I’m so glad you’re all enjoying this. Please enjoy this one as well!
Ch. 1 Ch.2 Ch.3
************************
A FaceTime lit up your phone screen as you were cooking, the screen name across it said ‘bae’ and you smiled as you answered it. Chris’s beautiful face coming up on the screen made you giddy and when he saw you he couldn’t help but smile as well but you could tell from the slight furrow in his brow and the dim sparkle in his eyes that something was wrong.
“Hey, baby, you ok? You’re smiling but I can tell something is going on.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, are you ok?” He questioned, wondering if there was something you wanted to talk about.
“Chris, you know I don’t like 20 questions when you need to talk about something, let’s tackle what’s going on.” You began getting slightly annoyed as you seasoned the chicken you were making.
Chris was a beat around the bush kind of guy, especially if he thought it would hurt your feelings, you on the other hand was straight and to the point, wanting to get past the problem. Polar opposites.
“Have you seen the articles about us lately?” He was hesitant, hoping that you hadn’t, he hated how they wrote about his love life.
“You mean the ones that’s trying to compare me to your ex’s? No, but my publicist brought them to my attention.” You moved around the kitchen, putting back things and taking out pans.
“Oh, did you want to talk about them?”
“Uh, not really, I don’t really care about what they’re saying. If I had a problem with them I would have already talked to you,” You stopped what you were doing to wash your hands and looked back at Chris who looked a little flustered.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering why he called to talk about this when there was a plethora of other things you both could be doing on this FaceTime call, dirty things.
“No, I-I’m sorry, I’m not used to the woman I’m dating to be so chill about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Baby, do you remember who your girlfriend is? I’m the motherfucking shit and I carry myself as such in public, and mostly, in private. I love myself and I don’t compare myself to other women, you don’t have to reassure me. I’m fine, I promise and you, good sir, better not ever compare yourself to my ex’s.” You pointed a finger at him and he laughed.
“They’re ex’s for a reason and those articles are trash. Now, I see that you’re half naked sitting on the couch, take the rest off and I’ll give you my own show. I have whipped cream in the fridge.” You smiled slyly and he finally gave you one of his full belly laughs that you love.
“Yes, ma’am.”
*********************
“Move in with me?” Well that wasn’t what you were expecting on your anniversary.
You choked on your wine at the question and coughed. “What?”
“I think we should live together. I know you’ve made your home in L.A. but I’m serious about you and want to take things a step further.” He explained, he was nervous, you could tell, his ears were tinged red and he was fidgeting.
It would make sense right? You both were at the year mark of your relationship, so far things long distance had worked and you didn’t really have a permanent home. L.A. was never supposed to be a permanent thing, you stayed there for work mostly. You could understand why Chris would want you to move with him instead of him moving with you, his family was here, this was his home.
Could you really call Boston your home?
Massachusetts?!
“Sorry, I know you weren’t expecting to hear that on our anniversary,” He laid his hand on top of yours. “I just wanted to put it out there, will you think about it?”
“Of course.” You nodded, speaking quietly, you were making your list of pros and cons in your head.
See the full post
96 notes • Posted 2021-09-02 00:23:48 GMT
#4
Infatuation Pt.2
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Pt. 1 here!
Summary: Chris Evans/Reader: The morning after the greatest sex of their lives and Y/N is in emotional turmoil. Chris finally gets the date that he’s been wanting and we meet the infamous Dodger.
Word Count: 1,962
Warnings: Cussing, mentions of sex but no actually sex(boo ikr) past cheating, feelings cuz feelings are a warning.
Author’s Note: Next chapter will have a plethora of sex! Just warning you now! Thanks for the love on the first part and because of the comments and likes I’ve decided this will be a mini story.
Italics=text messages
*******************
You woke up when it was still dark out, the clock on the bedside table showed that it was barely 6am. You went to close your eyes again because you were so comfortable and warm but then you remembered this was not your bed and your eyes snapped back open. This time you were fully awake and highly alert, you felt the body heat behind you and felt the arm heavily laying on your waist, it tightened around you slightly when you moved.
“Hey, you ok?” Chris’s voice was slightly hoarse from being unused and you cleared your own throat before answering.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just going to use the bathroom before I leave.” You started getting up and your words had him wake fully.
“You don’t have to leave, I enjoy your company.” He said sitting up in the bed as he watched you gather your clothes from where they were scattered from last night.
“I enjoy yours too, Chris, but I booked some studio time. Work calls, y’know.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything back, you hurried into the bathroom and shut the door, you needed a few minutes alone.
You were lying, you had finished the album you were set to release but staying any longer with him would add on to the emotions you were feeling for him.
You liked him. A lot.
“Can I at least make you breakfast?” He asked through the closed door and you sighed silently as you pulled up your pants.
Nothing wrong with that right?
“Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not.”
“Ok, I’ll meet you downstairs, waffles or pancakes?”
“Umm waffles.”
*******************
“What are you still doing in my house?” You asked as you walked in your house to see your friend lounging on the couch and your two cats running around after each other.
“I’m here in case you need emotional support after, so come, sit and tell me how it was.” She patted the cushion next to where she was sitting and you rolled your eyes but sat down.
“It was amazing…”
“Ok, but?”
“But I like him, he makes me feel…safe.”
“That’s serious, never heard you say that about a guy.”
“Yeah, it’s terrifying, I’ve barely spent a week in the presence of this man and he’s making me feel…feelings, ew.” You laughed, trying hard to push down the butterflies in your stomach when you talked about him.
“Well look at you, finally back to having feelings.” She joked but in reality she was worried about you.
Ever since you had gotten your heart broken the last time you had become colder, it worried her and she thought you would never be the same Y/N that you used to be but Chris was easily pulling you out of it. Your friend was thankful, she was thinking about sending Chris a gift basket.
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99 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 00:56:04 GMT
#3
Infatuation Ch. 3
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Summary: Y/N meets the family for Christmas!
Word Count: 2,014
Warnings: 18+ explicit sex scenes, oral(f and m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, getting called a “good girl”, getting caught by mistake, embarrassment.
Author’s Note: Surprise here’s another chapter! Enjoy some sex…Christmas sex😏 who doesn’t want that?!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
********************
“He asked me to come down to Boston for Christmas.” You were panicked, this was definitely a big step in your relationship with Chris.
The past few months were going beautifully, he finished his movie and went back home but he was constantly in contact and you would spend every chance traveling to see each other and then the holidays started coming and that’s when you got nervous. Thanksgiving was spent with your friend’s family, it was a tradition but you could tell just from Chris’ mannerisms the last time you FaceTimed that he wanted to ask you something important. So when he said it you sort of froze.
An important holiday, with his family that you had yet to meet. This man had sisters, two of them! From your experience the sisters and mothers were always the one’s scrutinizing you and it always freaked you out. Brothers and dads were easy but the women were usually more protective and you had no doubt that with Chris’s past relationships you would be put under the microscope.
“Well, what did you say?” Your friend was laughing at your reaction on the other end of the phone, she had ended up in her own relationship and was spending most of her time with him. You couldn’t blame her, if Chris lived closer you would be under him all the time.
“Don’t laugh at me! I told him I would get back to him but you should have seen his face when I said that, ugh I felt so horrible. He looked sad!”
“Calm down, look I know you're scared but you’ve been dating him for the past 5 months and from what you're telling me it’s going good. Just explain to him why you’re hesitant, I’m sure he’ll understand but I do think you should go.”
“I want to but-“
“No, stop overthinking, that man wants to spend Christmas with you, I know it’s nerve racking meeting your guy’s family but be yourself and they’ll love you. You’re not a bad person, just sarcastic at times, I think they’ll like that.”
You took a huge breath and actually thought about the advice she was giving you.
“You’re right, I think it’s actually so sweet he wants to spend one of our favorite holidays together and I guess if I’m with him it won’t be so jarring to meet his family.”
“There you go, now get off the phone with me and call him back to give him the good news.”
*********************
That is how you ended up in Boston being picked up by Chris a couple weeks later. It had snowed pretty heavily and the sidewalks were covered in white, definitely a winter wonderland.
“It’s pretty here.” You stated, keeping your eyes on the pretty scenery as you passed by houses.
“I’m glad you like it, you should see it in the fall.” He stopped in front of a gorgeous house, the roof covered in snow of course and you realized it was his. You could tell he shoveled as much as he could out of the walkway so you both wouldn’t be tripping over yourselves.
You barely got into the door before he was kissing you, your bags dropped on the floor and the door slammed as he pulled you to him. Cold bodies quickly warmed up as he yanked his own coat off along with yours.
“I missed you, baby, I promise I’ll give you the house tour later but I need you.” You couldn’t agree more, a few weeks without his dick in you had you damn near feigning for his touch.
Hardly making it into the living room where you noticed a gorgeous Christmas tree and onto the couch. Clothes ripped off your bodies and thrown to the floor.
“Fuck, Chris.” You moaned out when his mouth attached to your clit, his tongue washing over it over and over again until you were a whining mess, your hands gripped his hair tightly and you were worried you were hurting him until you heard his own moans.
“Damn it, I need to be inside you.” He kissed up your body, stopping to show your breast some attention before making it to your mouth with a messy kiss.
You hardly had any time to comprehend what was happening next before he slid home into you making the both of you gasp. Finally connected again.
“Oh, God, you feel so good!” You cried, wrapping your legs tightly around him, egging him on to move, you knew this was going to be quick for the both of you, you could already feel that throb in your clit.
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134 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 00:56:13 GMT
#2
So, umm Sebastian apparently auditioned for the part as Christian Grey and well umm just look at the video. Be warned if around parents or in public turn it down or wear headphones.😳
155 notes • Posted 2021-03-30 18:06:50 GMT
#1
Infatuation
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Summary: Chris Evans/Reader: You made an impression on Chris the first time you guys hooked up but now he wants more and you’re reluctant to give it to him because of your past heartbreaks.
Warnings: 18+ explicit sex scene, oral(f receiving), choking, vulgar language, Chris being persistent af trying to get you lol there are no descriptions of what the reader looks like so anyone can read.
Word count: 1,877
Author’s Note: Idk where I’m going with this, it might stay a one shot or turn into a multi chapter short story but for now enjoy this one!
Italics=text message
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
**********************
“I’m in L.A. filming for a while if you want to get together.”
“Is he texting you again?” Your friend asked as you checked your phone. The text message brightening the screen as you picked it up.
“Yeah, it’s the third time this week that he’s asked to get together again.” You said putting down the phone not answering the text just yet.
“What did you do to him?” She laughed
“Sucked his dick, fucked him dumb.” You shrugged, guessing what it could possibly have been for Chris Evans to be acting like this.
You two had met at an awards show, danced a little at the after party and then went back to his hotel room to hook up. He asked for your number before you left and it hadn’t been that long after that he was asking to link up again. You had texted back and forth here and there, having small conversations but nothing too deep but he was definitely acting like you two really had something more going on with how badly he wanted to see you.
Don’t get it wrong, he was gorgeous, very sweet, a gentleman through and through and not to mention his stroke game was immaculate but you weren’t really looking for anything else other than some casual fun.
“If you don’t meet up with him then I will.” Your friend tapped your leg going back to watch tv.
“I think he’s just bored or lonely, I don’t know.” You called after her.
“You should help him with that!”
You rolled your eyes at her but picked up your phone to answer him.
“Sure, you want to come to mine or you want me to come to you?”
Chris’s phone lit up and he was quick to check it, you had finally agreed to meet up again and he was ecstatic about it, he really liked you. You were funny, smart, absolutely gorgeous and you had blown his mind the first night you hooked up. If he was being honest he was addicted and in turn that made him a little eager to be around you again.
“What’s with the huge smile?” His coworker asked, coming into the makeup trailer to get themselves ready for the next scene.
“She finally agreed to meet up.”
“You wore her down.” His coworkers laughed, having Chris join him.
“It would seem so.”
“Come to mine, I rented out a condo for the time I’m here and I want to cook dinner for you before I eat you out for dessert.”
“Sounds good, I can’t wait to get my mouth on you again myself.”
The thought of you having your mouth on his cock made him shift in his seat, you looked beautiful that night looking up at him sinfully as you swallowed him.
“Damn, babe, you’re going to have me out here with a hard on thinking about that. Tomorrow at 7.”
“I’ll be there.”
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246 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 00:05:56 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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carly-they-jepsen · 4 years
Text
RWRB Timeline
I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.
Go big or go home, right? 
I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.
Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.
I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.
Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.
Two asterisks ** = official dates.
Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.
One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.
I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.
I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.
If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.
I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)
I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!
MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD
**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019
Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.
Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week
Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London. 
6 a.m. EST: Take off. 
5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.
Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.
Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.
Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) —  Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.
Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.
Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.
9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.
Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.
Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.
Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.
Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.
Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?
Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.
Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.
**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.
**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.
**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.
**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.
10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.
**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”
*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.
*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.
*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.
*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.
*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.
**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.
9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.
10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.
**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.
Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.
**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.
8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.
Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.
There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.
The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.
11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.
**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex
Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.
*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.
*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.
**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.
*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.
*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.
*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.
*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.
*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.
*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.
*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146)  — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.
10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.
10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms
*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska
Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at
**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.
**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.
**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.
*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.
*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.
*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.
Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.
*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.
April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.
April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.
April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.
April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.
April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk
*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.
*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.
*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.
April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.
*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.
**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week
**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.
Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.
*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.
*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.
**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST:  Henry and Alex exchange emails.
**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”
*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.
*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.
*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.
Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon
*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.
**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.
10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.
11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.
12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon
1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins
4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.
4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse
4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time
After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.
Alex takes hours to sleep.
*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.
The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.
*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.
*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University. 
**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.
9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.
9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”
11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.
*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.
6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.
July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.
2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.
**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.
*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks
*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping
*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.
*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) —  Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.
*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.
*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.
*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.
Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.
*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.
*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) —  Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.
5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.
7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding
8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London
3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington
4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.
*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.
**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.
5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.
3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.
5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home
**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.
6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.
**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.
8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.
Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours. 
Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.
Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures
*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.
**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.
6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.
**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day 
3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.
3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.
6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington
8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping
1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag
7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington
11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.
*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.
6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.
Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane
**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) —  9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.
Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.
*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.
**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.
*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) —  A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.
*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up. 
9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.
Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.
*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.
Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.
Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.
*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.
**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) —  Election day
Alex votes.
6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.
6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.
7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.
8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.
9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113
9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.
10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.
12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.
12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.
1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.
193 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 4 years
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Hello everyone! I'm so happy to host a new event for my blog! It has been a while since I made one of these writing events, and I hope you will enjoy it! I've organized it to celebrate my blog hitting 4.7k followers!!! This is unbelievable, tbh, I have no idea what you guys are doing around here, but thank you so much for it anyway!!
So, for the coming weeks, I'll be writing your requests, that you can send me using the prompts I'm proposing in this post, under the cut! I hope you'll have fun!
 Carole, what is going on now?
 For this event, I'll be answering some prompts! The idea is simple: you choose one of the characters I write for and a few prompts, and I will write a one-shot for the character you have chosen, using the prompts you have chosen. You can also indicate more details that you would like to be included in your request (a specific AU or situation… ). It's super easy, and it makes you choose what I'll write for the next 2 or 3 weeks!
 How do we request something?
 In order to send a request, all you have to do is send me an ask through my inbox (please, do not use the dms, it is much harder to manage for me and I will probably forget about your request…). You can choose between 1 and 5 prompts amongst the prompts listed below the cut. The prompts are pieces of dialogue, and it will be my job to imagine a scenario where the characters use these lines. Choose also a character. It has to be a character in my masterlist (at the exception of Billy Russo and Regulus Black, their requests are closed). If you're a little shy, don't hesitate to switch on the anon function, I will still accept your request! Please, only ask for one request, because I want to write for as many people as possible.
And that's it! Super easy, isn't it?
 A sum up?
 In order to get a one-shot:
-Choose a character in my masterlist (except for Billy Russo and Regulus Black, their requests are closed)
-Choose between 1 and 5 prompts that you would like to see appear in your one-shot. There are 100 of them, and they are all gathered below the cut! No need to send me the whole prompt, just send me the number corresponding to your prompts!
-Send me a message through my inbox (no private messages)
-You can only make one request, so choose wisely ;)
-You can ask as an anon if you're a little shy
-I'll be working hard on your request, so a little nice message or at least a 'hello' would be lovely :)
 The requests will be open for 48 hours (September 8 – September 10 2020), and they are open beginning… right now! The duration for the opened requests for the event might change, depending on how many requests I receive.
Please, be understanding that there is no way for me to judge if this event will be popular or not. If I receive too many requests, I won't be able to write all of them. I'm sorry if I don't have time to go to your request, please, be understanding if that happens. But maybe I'll have time to write all of them! It is hard for me to judge beforehand.
I hope you have fun with this event, and thank you all again for your support!
The prompts for the event are listed below. For a few of them, they might include several lines. All prompts are given a number, all you have to do is send me the number corresponding to the prompts you want, no need to type the whole thing in the ask.
Have fun!
NB: I have no idea why so many of those give off some serious idiots in love and idiots to lovers energy, but… it happened…
 1."KISSES!"
 2. "You are too far away."
"I am literally on the couch with you..."
"But are you in my arms? No. See? Too far away."
 3. "If you weren't so cute, I would break your legs right now."
 4. "Wait… are you jealous?"
 5. "Stars and tequila. It's perfect."
"No. Stars, tequila and you. That it perfect."
 6."I think I've made a mistake. Very big mistake. The kind that makes me wonder if I should escape to another country..."
 7. "I WANT MY COOKIES!!"
 8. "Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."
 9. "Does it hurt?"
"Not that... OUCH!"
 10. "I can't believe you got punched in the face."
"For you. I got punched in the face for you."
 11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."
 12. "I know you don't love me. It's okay. I will be whatever you want me to be."
 13. "You don't need to love me for me to love you, you know? That's not how loving works. It would save us all from a lot of pain if it did."
 14. "What do you mean you have a date?"
 15. "I propose that we get excessively drunk and then ruin our lives as a consequence. Sounds good?"
 16. "I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave?"
 17. "I think we need... to make something explode."
 18. "I'm pretty stupid, aren't I?"
 19. "Huh... is that my shirt you're wearing?"
 20. "I miss you. I hate it. I hate you. I love you."
 21. "I'm proud to be with you."
 22. "So... huh... are we gonna mention that you've just snogged me or...?"
 23. "What do you mean lying to your family about us? What do you mean you need a 'plus one'?"
 24. "I have only one thing to say: that is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Let's do it."
 25. "Huh... were you going to... propose?!"
 26. "Will you marry me?"
 27. "Look... I don't mean to be blunt but... you and me, it's a forever kind of thing. And there's no escape from that."
 28. "Fate? Me loving you, you think it's fate? Nah, it's not fate. It's a choice. I choose to love you and to give you everything I own and everything I am every single day. And that's why what we have is true love."
 29. "Do you have ANY idea of how worried I was about you?"
 30. "I think you've just… puked on my shoes."
 31. "I swear, if you die, I'm going to kill you."
 32. "You're perfect."
 33. "I love you. Do you think you could ever love me too?"
 34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"
 35. "I'm sorry. For everything. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me though, cause I know that I don't deserve it."
 36. "Just… shut up and kiss me."
 37. "Please… stay."
 38. "But if you leave now, what am I going to do with the rest of my life?"
 39. "I don't want anything but you."
 40. "You deserve so much more than what I can give you."
 41. "I wish I did, but I don't deserve you."
 42. "You make me so happy, it hurts a little."
 43. "What if we don't make it?"
 44. "Are you… are you bleeding?"
 45. "I… I'm begging you… if you must kill someone, then kill me. But please, please… let him/her go."
 46. "I can't lose you."
 47. "What do you mean… you're pregnant?"
 48. "You are so annoying…"
 49. "You're an idiot. I love you."
 50. "Don't leave me. Don't ever leave me…"
 51. "Well… that was hot."
 52. "So… good morning?"
"We're in the same bed. What the fuck are we doing in the same bed?!"
 53. "I mean, we don't have a choice… there's only one bed. And I am not sleeping on that dirty carpet."
 54. "Us being together, it's a terrible idea."
 55. "LOOK! IT'S SNOWING!"
 56. "This is the worst Halloween costume I have ever seen."
 57. "Promise you'll always love me."
 58. "I need your word. Promise me that you'll come back to me."
 59. "So… does that mean… farewell?"
 60. "I think we’re excellent at making memories.”
 61. "Did you… did you sleep with him/her?"
 62. "Where are you?"
 63. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
 64. "Dear God… I'm surrounded by idiots…"
 65. "I don't want you to go with him/her. I want you to choose me instead."
 66. "What if we stayed in bed all day?"
 67. "You fool! Fear my wrath!"
"Babe, you're threatening me with a broccoli, it is not very convincing."
 68. "Karaoke night!"
 69. "I am full of surprises!”
“Sadly, yes, you are...”
 70. "Dance with me. Please?"
 71. "I would do anything to convince you to give me a chance."
 72. "I know it's hard. I know that life keeps on getting in the way. But I love you. I love you with my entire being, and I'm willing to fight for you. I'm willing to fight to keep you."
 73. "Are you… are you crying?"
 74. "Stop stealing my blanket!"
 75. "Happy New Year!"
 76. "Merry Christmas!"
 77. "Is that for me?"
 78. "Happy birthday!"
 79. "So… is that… a date?"
 80. "What do you mean it was a date? It wasn't a date!"
"Of course, it was a date!"
 81. "Well… that… was a good kiss…"
 82. "I'm a complete moron! I'm an idiot! I am the epitome of stupidity! It took me forever to realize it, but now I see it, and I'll be damned if I let you walk away. Because it took me all that time to realize it, but I love you. I love you so much. It's always been you."
 83. "Are you drinking my cocoa?"
 84. "Please, just… hold me. Please, hold me close."
 85. "I'm cold."
"I'll keep you warm."
"Nice try!"
 86. "It hasn't stopped snowing. We're stuck. We're gonna die."
 87. "I AM NOT DYING HERE! IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE! WITH YOU!"
"I know that the important information here is that we're gonna die, but I'm very upset that you don't want to do it specifically with me. Why not? I'm a dream!"
 88. "Can I try some of your food?"
 89. "I should have told you long ago."
"Tell me what?"
"That I love you."
 90. "I am not going through a thirty-hours drive with you. There is absolutely no way."
 91. "I used to hate you. Then, I simply disliked you. Now, I hate you all over again."
"Well, the feeling is mutual. But maybe it'll change."
 92. "I really like you."
"I love you."
 93. "Well, if you really were that clever, then you would know that I love you!"
 94. "You have fever, you need to drink this. Come on, now."
 95. "I just… I feel like I'm truly myself when I'm with you. I want to be myself when I'm with you. So now, if you're scared, don't call it love yet. But whatever you want to call it, it's incredible, and I'm not going to give up on this. I'm not going to give up on us."
 96. "You're my home."
 97. "Why is summer so hot?! I'm melting!"
 98. "Have you ever felt like… memories get attached to a word and they almost change their meanings? Like… whenever someone says 'apple' I think of my grandma's pies, to the point that I almost forget that they're talking about the fruit. Well… your name… it's the same for love. When I think of love, I think of you."
 99. "What wish did you make?”
“To spend the rest of my life with you.”
 100. "If you only let me spend the rest of my life with you, I'd be happy with that. I don't ask for anything else, really. My life is complete as long as you're in it."
48 notes · View notes
kayliemusing · 3 years
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42: top 3s
1: Top 3 ice cream flavors - classic vanilla, birthday cake/birthday batter, bubblegum
2: Top 3 Disney Movies - Mulan, Onward, Soul (but this changes frequently lol)
3: Top 3 vacation destinations - I've never been outside of my home country so I'll say my top 3 DREAM destinations: NYC, Hawaii, a random countryside in either France or the UK
4: Top 3 places to shop - Dynamite, Sephora, Winners/Homesense
5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take - English/anything creative writing related, Interior Decorating/Design, Communications?
6: Top 3 make up products - YSL Touche Eclat Foundation, literally any Mac Lipstick but it has to be matte, & Fenty Beauty contour stick
7: Top 3 music artists - Taylor Swift - Of Monsters and Men - The Lumineers
8: Top 3 spices/herbs - Cinnamon - Nutmeg (literally tastes like autumn) - Paprika
9: Top 3 drinks - Diet Coke - Hot Chocolate - Vanilla Bean Frappe
10: Top 3 apps to use - Instagram - Pinterest -iBooks
11: Top 3 months of the year - May, October, December
12: Top 3 clothing items - My black/white turtle neck, high waisted jeans, plaid blazer
13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows - Bones, Supernatural, Brooklyn Nine Nine
14: Top 3 romantic dates - (I've never been on a date but if I had, it would be this) Evening walk, late night drive, late night coffee date (tbh anything at night feels romantic)
15: Top 3 kinds of flower - Water lilies, cherry blossoms, roses
16: Top 3 christmas movies - A Christmas Carol (2009), Home Alone, The Polar Express
17: Top 3 OTPs - Nesta and Cassian from ACOTAR series by SJM, Manon and Dorian from Throne of Glass series by SJM, Casteel and Poppy from From Blood and Ash series by JLM.
18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life - "I write not to find, but to leave" by Scherezade Siobhan - "I want to be myself again. I want to be six. I want to stop knowing everything I know" by Catherynne M. Valente - "The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get" by Joanna Hoffman.
19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself - my kindness bc it's not surface level kindness, but actually something deeply rooted within me - my resilience even tho sometimes it doesn't feel like resilience - my loyalty bc it is a hard as steel kind of loyalty
20: Top 3 kinds of candy - Maltesers, Kit kats, smarties
21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active - Walking, dancing, mowing the lawn/shoveling the sidewalk
22: Top 3 spirit animals - wolf, hummingbird, tiger (i googled it bc i didn't know and i was scared it was a joke but)
23: Top 3 petnames - I like 'lovebug', 'love', 'sweetheart'
24: Top 3 books read outside of school - The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas but viewers discretion is advised, Crush by Richard Siken
25: Top 3 most used websites - Youtube, Tumblr, Pinterest
26: Top 3 people you last texted - my mom, my bestie megan, and my sister bc they're the only people i text...
27: Top 3 hashtags you use - the only time i use hashtags is if i'm trying to promote some of my writing so I'll usually use writingcommunity, writersonig, poetryonig lol
28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow - Trista Mateer, Griefmother, obviously taylor swift
29: Top 3 guilty pleasures - buzzfeed quizzes, early 2000s music, romance novels
30: Top 3 summer activities - Going to the zoo, long evening walks, campfires and s'mores
31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle - hearts, flowers, random swirls bc it's the only thing i can doodle...
32: Top 3 aesthetics - cityscape aesthetic, autumn aesthetic, rustic aesthetic
33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars - a new car, a condo, another cat
34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself - facial, a large bag of maltesers, buying the makeup i really want but have been putting off
35: Top 3 celebrity crushes - Evan Peters, Matthew Daddario, henry cavill
36: Top 3 books from your childhood - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl, and Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmens
37: Top 3 accents to hear - Australian, super poshy british accent, new zealand accent
38: Top 3 scents - Fresh rain, vanilla, sweet cinnamon pumpkin from bath and body works
39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes - "WE WERE ON A BREAK" -Ross, "Guess things were just going too well for me" -also ross, and "it's so exhausting waiting for death" - phoebe
40: Top 3 cupcake flavors - tbh I haven't tried that many cupcakes so your typical vanilla, chocolate, and Pink Lady Cupcake from Babycakes Cupcakery
41: Top 3 fruits - Pomegranates, Strawberries, Raspberries
42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from - Pizzahut, Dominos, Pizza73
43: Top 3 sports teams to watch - i don't
44: Top 3 crayola colors - uh, i guess red, purple, and pink??
45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college - Certificates/Degrees in Copyediting and Creative Writing, and I think simply just deeper critical thinking skills when it comes to writing and books
46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read - I read more books than fanfics, I've read a couple on tumblr but don't remember the names sorry :/
47: Top 3 people you miss right now - my dad, my best friend bc she's in vancouver, taylor swift bc she's not on tumblr anymore rip
48: Top 3 fears - Failure, Loss, not achieving anything in life/not reaching my full potential
49: Top 3 favorite literary devices - Foreshadowing is always god tier, cliffhangers although evil i love those too, symbolism
50: Top 3 pet peeves - People dragging their shoes on the floor when they walk, when you tell someone your fav hobby/music artist/interest and they immediately go 'oh I hate X!', and people who go 'you're so quiet!!!' but in a way that draws in more attention and/or makes me feel more uncomfortable like i would literally rather die
51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive - Hands, nice hair, defined jawlines
52: Top 3 bad habits - Nailbiting, picking at my blemishes oops, lip biting
53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have - Cats bc they complete me, I've always wanted a Samoyed, and I've always wanted a turtle
54: Top 3 types of foreign food - Chicken Chow Mein, deep fried shrimp, japanese chicken wings
55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime - 'I quit', 'I love you', 'you changed my life'
56: Top 3 dog breeds - Samoyed, german shepherds, collies
57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies - You've Got Mail, How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You
58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak - French, Sign, and maybe Japanese?
59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) - The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas (but literally only for Cassian and Nesta), From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L Armentrout
60: Top 3 pizza toppings - Mushrooms, alfredo sauce, pineapple
61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to - Game Grumps, Charlotte Dobre, Megan Batoon
62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas - I want to get a tattoo on my wrist of the last thing my dad ever wrote me, a hummingbird tattoo right next to it, and then a cross on my index finger
63: Top 3 awards you want to win - National Book Awards, Nobel Prize, and maybe even Goodreads Choice Awards lol
64: Top 3 emojis - Laugh/Crying emoji, the please sir emoji that kinda gives off those puss n boots eyes, and the stars emoji
65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning - 1970s Chev Impala, tbh a cute little Hyundai Venue, and maaaaybe the 1964 ferarri 250 gt luso (idk if that name was totally right but i had to do tons of googling to find it. i don't know a lot about cars and i don't really have a top 3 lol)
66: Top 3 authors - Right now I'm really into Sarah J Maas, Sally Thorne, and Holly Black maybe?
67: Top 3 historical figures - Jesus, Anne Frank, Vincent Van Gogh
68: Top 3 baby names - Ryder, Leila, Gracie
69: Top 3 DIYs - Candles, refurnishing old furniture (i.e. my mom and i painted our wooden garbage can), and really just any type of autumn diy
70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors - Strawberry/Banana, Mango, Strawberry-Mango
71: Top 3 songs of this month - Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish, Biblical by Calum Scott, and Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran
72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked - I did them all bc I made it a survey instead of an ask meme ;)
73: Top 3 villains - Regina/The Evil Queen from Once Upon a Time, Cruella De Vil, and Moriarty from Sherlock
74: Top 3 Cities you want to see - Montreal, NYC, Vancouver (honorable mention: LA)
75: Top 3 recipes you want to try - different kind of salad and/or burger bowls, Stuffed bell peppers, and homemade lemon loaf
76: Top 3 dream jobs - Bestselling author, the person who runs a companies social media accounts, youtuber/blogger
77: Top 3 lucky items - tbh don't have one
78: Top 3 traditions you have - Christmas Eve Service and if I don't go to that at least incorporating reading the christmas story on christmas day or eve, idk if this counts as tradition but going to the corn maze every fall, and whenever it's easter/christmas/thanksgiving we always have a big meal w/ family
79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid - reckless abandon, dreaming about growing up with hopefulness and no dashed hopes, experiencing holidays like halloween and christmas as a kid
80: Top 3 harry potter characters - I've never read or watched Harry Potter rip (ok well i saw the first and second (and maybe third?) movie in the sixth grade I think) but I think I really liked Hermoine, Harry obviously and Dobby
81: Top 3 lies you were told - i don't have 3, but this one has a story but basically when my sister and i were in elementary school my sister got hit by a car and so the insurance thing was that she would recieve 10k when she was 18 and as a child i thought that was unfair so my dad told me that my sister had to split it with me when we were 18 lmao obviously that didn't happen (i think i realized that wasn't true in middle school)
82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now - Pictures of my cat, one of my sister in a hilarious filter, and a picture of my rocking my TS merch
83: Top 3 turn ons - Kindness, defined jawline, easy going
84: Top 3 turn offs - arrogance, unkempt, super loud and obnoxious
85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read - I don't read much of those so I'll tell you some sites I love for writing purpose's: there's Wellstoried, justwriterlythings, springhole.net (which is filled with generators if you're stuck and also tons of infomation and advice)
86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier - that toad in Mario Party was wearing a mushroom hat and that it is actually not his head, that immaculate means 'clean' before i misused that word like several times over the years, and that the one turn i always take on my way to work where i thought everyone didn't know how to drive was actually bc i didn't have the right of way rip me
87: Top 3 spongebob episodes - the one episode where spongebob and patrick find a ghost ship, that one episode where they form a bikini bottom band and perform it at a football game in a little fish tank, and the one episode where squidward has his first snowball fight
88: Top 3 places to be in the world - I'd love to be in NYC, Montreal, or Hawaii
89: Top 3 things you'd do differently - I would not have applied for RDC, similarly I should have just paid the 500 dollars to the one certificate program I wanted to do instead of overthinking it, and I wish I wouldn't have ended a friendship the way I did
90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood - Spongebob Squarepants, That's So Raven, and Hannah Montana
91: Top 3 meals you love - Turkey Burgers, Chilli, and Instant Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup
92: Top 3 kinds of tea - i don't drink tea
93: Top 3 embarrassing moments - one time in sixth grade I tripped and fell right on my face in front of my crush, this other time like a couple years ago i opened the door to my car and only realized much too late while i was staring at this random family that it was not my car, and when i went to the gas station to get gas and couldn't get my gas lid on my car opened and this guy had to help me which was already embarrassing enough but then the gas pump wouldn't work so i had to go inside to pay just to realize i forgot my wallet and had to shamefully walk back to my car and then run back inside the convenience store and then pay and then walk back to my car and finally fill my tank.
94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate - Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving
95: Top 3 things to do in the rain - have an existential crisis, pretend you're in a music video, walk through puddles like you're six again
96: Top 3 things to do in the snow - Sledding, Build a snowman, shovel it even tho you don't want to
97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o - phone, keys, wallet
98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see - Jurassic World 3, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania bc i'm a child, and the animation of the addams family
99: Top 3 art mediums - Writing fiction/poetry, painting, music
100: Top 3 museums you've been to - Royal Tyrell Museum, Canadian History one in edmonton lol, and heritage park in calgary
101: Top 3 school memories - Middle school dances when the popular kids would grind to the song "Low" which was always an interesting experience, in the twelfth grade at winter formal when we all shouted "SHUT UP AND DANCE!" at the same time when they played Shut Up and Dance, and the day i left
102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss - School, my sisters ex, 2016 bc she was a rough year yikes
103: Top 3 pick up lines - "My name is Will. God's Will.", "I'd like to take you to the movies but they don't like you bring your own snacks", "are you from tennessee bc you're the only 10 i see"
104: Top 3 sports to watch - none of them
105: Top 3 taylor swift songs - all too well - exile - coney island
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belovedrival · 3 years
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“It’s Jonas.”
It’s been almost six months but I did say I would talk about my experience, so here goes...
(It’s really long, I started this draft when Jonas was three months old)
I was told that I would be induced on March 10, a Wednesday. My due date was the 17th but baby had been measuring large for months so my doctor just wanted to go ahead with it. I agreed. We’d made it to 39 weeks and that was good. Plus, I felt huge and just...done with being pregnant. 
I worked (from home) on the 10th. It felt sort of surreal, knowing that we’d be at the hospital at 5 pm that evening, but I knew I needed to work to keep my mind off what was coming. For a while, at least. 
We’d started packing the hospital bags for weeks before. I’d left my suitcase open next to the bed and I’d throw things in there whenever I’d do laundry or think of something else I wanted to take. I sort of knew then that I was majorly overpacking (and in hindsight it’s laughable how much stuff I never wore/used) but at least we were prepared, right?
Yeah, about that...
Mister drove to the hospital. Since I was being induced, it wasn’t any frenetic, movie scene type, panicked dad experience. We just put our things in the car and drove there. On the way we talked about how strange it was, knowing that when we came home (God willing), there would be a baby in the car seat. Of course at that time we still didn’t know if our baby was a girl or boy.
(Mister told me later that he was almost certain baby was a boy. He said he’d heard too many nurses/medical personnel ‘slip’ while we were having ultrasounds and whatnot.)
People can choose to find out or not, but it puts a whole other dimension on the experience when you don’t know in advance. Just my two cents.
As we turned into the hospital parking lot, Mister told me to open the glove box. “There’s something for you in there,” he said. I opened it, trying to swallow the bowling ball that had lodged itself in my throat.
“Oh!” I said. “What I always wanted - an owner’s manual!”
When I’m nervous, I often joke.
There was a small white box next to the owner’s manual. In it was a necklace with an aquamarine pendant; one of the birthstones for March. Of course I cried.
We took an obligatory selfie before going inside the hospital. After getting checked in, we went to our room. I remember thinking that we’d only be in that room probably a day, and that 24 hours later, we’d be upstairs post delivery.
Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
I was given a drug to start labor (not pitocin). I’ve always hated needles and so getting an IV was not part of my top 100,000 Things I Love to Do List. Thankfully, the nurse who put it in was really good, so I barely felt anything. 
The one major memory of this whole experience (other than Jonas, of course) was how good the nurses were. I am forever grateful to them. 
Other than the IV and monitors, Mister having to sleep on the sofa, and me laying on a hospital bed, we could almost trick ourselves into imagining we were staying at some sort of hotel. Almost. For a few hours, anyway.
Wednesday night into Thursday morning was okay. I was feeling persistent pain. It wasn’t terrible, just uncomfortable, and I knew that it was part of the process. I didn’t sleep great but I was able to get some rest.
Around six o’clock there was a shift change, and my nurse for the day came in. Liz had a kind of cheerleader vibe about her, very positive, and in some other circumstances I might’ve found her annoying. But I liked her.
My doctor came in a little after seven and broke my water. That experience was...weird. I mean, it was a new experience for me, so it’s hard to describe. Uh, water is wet, so it was wet? Honestly, the thing I remember the most is that there was some meconium after Doc broke my water, which worried me a little. Baby was doing fine and no one seemed super worried, so I set it aside. I DID think it meant I was guaranteed to have the baby that day. How wrong I was, and not for the first time...
They gave me pitocin after my water was broken. So my contractions increased. It felt more like strong period cramps to me. I should say at this point that I have a high pain tolerance. I don’t know what the same level of contractions would feel like to someone else. Sometimes I was only mildly aware that I was having them. 
Probably one of the most annoying things about my entire experience Wednesday/Thursday/into Friday was not being allowed to eat anything. I had ice chips, and water, and Liz managed to get me some Jello. This was actually something of an issue, because I had gestational diabetes, so at first nobody wanted to give me anything except for sugar-free Jello. I did have some of that, but as the day wore on and there wasn’t much progress, Liz talked to somebody and got me some regular Jello. I would’ve preferred something else, but Jello was what I was allowed, so Jello I got.
I...don’t really like Jello. Seriously, like if it’s the only thing, I’ll eat it, but...yeah.
The hours ticked by. Progress was slow. At first I looked forward to Liz and the other nurses coming in and checking me, but by late afternoon, it was clear that things were slooooooow. The best part of Thursday was sometime in the afternoon Liz suggested bouncing on the ball. I was really happy to get out of bed and bounce for a while. After doing that, I decided it was time for the epidural.
I’d decided beforehand I wanted an epidural. As I said, I absolutely hate needles, but I also didn’t want my body to be so stressed that labor couldn’t progress. In the back of my mind, I also thought that if the situation changed, and a c-section became necessary, the epidural would already be in place. 
After the epidural was put in, I started shaking on the edge of the bed, tears rolling down my face. Liz was still holding on to me, and Mister was there, and they both asked what was wrong. I couldn’t speak for a minute. It felt a little like I was five years old, still terrified of that darn needle, and all the tension I’d suppressed had to get out somehow.
“It’s okay,” Liz said, giving me a hug. Sometimes that’s all that’s needed. I was sorry to see her go when her shift ended. She said she was working again on Saturday and that she’d stop by to see us after the baby was born, to see what we were having. (She did stop by.)
This was a constant refrain from most of the nurses: upon first coming into the room, and looking at the white board that had my information and seeing next to “Baby” was written “Surprise!!” we inevitably got the question, “You don’t know what you’re having? That’s awesome!” 
Getting the epidural made the pain diminish, but it also made things more complicated for me because I couldn’t move. Overnight, a tag team of nurses turned me one way and the other, and checked me. 
(I should also mention that all of the staff at the hospital had already been vaccinated, and they all wore masks into the rooms. We did not have to wear masks in the room, but if we went outside it, they were required.)
By Thursday night, both Mister and I were feeling rather discouraged. All day Thursday we’d been told that baby would come “by the afternoon”, then “by the evening”, and then late Thursday, “by Friday morning”. Bear in mind that I’d been on an IV/ induced since roughly six pm on Wednesday. 
Maybe this sounds laughable to people who’ve had 72 hour long labors, but I’d been mentally prepared for around 24 hours of labor. My twin sister had been induced with her first, and her labor had gone about that long. Around midnight on Thursday I was feeling pretty discouraged. Mister wasn’t angry but he said (when we were alone) that he felt like the staff had been overly optimistic. I just don’t think either of us had thought about the implications of me being induced without any sign of active labor. In hindsight, I was glad it was done then, but...yeah. Not being mentally prepared for that long of a labor was hard. I felt bad for everyone who was waiting on updates; it felt like literally nothing happened for about thirty hours. Like I think was dilated to five by Friday morning. And effaced? Practically nothing. My cervix wasn’t getting thinner at all.
Early Friday morning, a new nurse started her shift. My first impressions of Diana were...well, I thought, “she’s definitely not as friendly as Liz.” She was more brusque. As I hadn’t slept much Thursday night, and having been in the same situation for over a day, I didn’t care nearly as much about making friends. By that point I was tired - physically, mentally, emotionally.
But Diana was awesome. She got me turned onto my hands and knees, and had me start doing some vigorous exercises, to really move labor along. I was fine with doing whatever she said because I was REALLY ready to be done. So it felt a little like my cross country days in high school, at the finish of a difficult race. I was tired, I wasn’t sure how much I could do physically, but we had a GOAL and dammit, we were going to do everything to get there!
By late morning, even after the exercises, I was still dilated at a five. Hardly effaced at all. After checking me again, Diana left the room. The option of a c-section had been discussed, especially since it was over 24 hours since my water had been broken.
“I think I’m done,” I said to Mister. Even though I’d never really been 100% ‘I want a natural birth experience’, it felt a little like giving up. I started crying again. “I just don’t think this [natural labor] is going to work. I’m done.”
“If you’re done, that’s it,” Mister said. “Tell Diana you want a c-section.”
I have to say something here about Mister. Even though he kept saying he didn’t know what he was doing or how he should support me, he was AWESOME. He supported every decision, and listened to me talk about the different options. For as hard as labor was for me, I think he had a different hard time. All he could do was literally sit there and watch me go through pain and doubt and fear, and comfort me as best he could. He was a great comfort.
(This is why even if thoughtful partners don’t think they’re doing a good job at supporting laboring moms, they most likely are. Their presence is invaluable. For anyone who doesn’t have a supportive partner with them, or an absent one, my profound condolences.)
When Diana came back in, I told her I wanted a c-section. This was around 11 o’clock Friday morning, March 12th. “I agree,” she said right away, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve done everything you possibly can to get this baby delivered naturally. I trust mom’s instincts on this.”
Her support meant so much. Really, when a veteran nurse says they trust your instinct, how can you not feel better about your decision?
She left to contact my doctor and several other people, and Mister let people know what was going on. At that point I was more relieved that soon it would be over. I wanted to see our baby.
Mister said later that he learned that hospitals have two speeds: 1) we’re in no rush; and 2) something is going to happen NOW. While my c-section wasn’t an emergency, once the decision was made, things did happen fast. Diana brought the anesthesiologist into the room so he could numb me up. As I already had the epidural, this didn’t take very long. After a few minutes of letting the medication work, Bryce asked if I could feel my toes.
“No,” I said. It was weird. I knew I shouldn’t feel them, but I couldn’t help saying, “I’m trying to wiggle them!”
“No, no, it’s good you can’t feel them,” both Bryce and Mister said. I was wheeled out of the labor room a few minutes after that (I was not sorry to leave it) and taken to the OR. Mister went with someone else to take our stuff to the recovery room.
I’ve been in operating rooms before. They aren’t places that make me want to stay there. Bright lights, metal everywhere, many thoughts of what could go wrong...although I will say that all the staff in the OR made me feel confident. I was glad to see my doctor. 
I felt better once I was in the OR (the only time in my life I’ve ever felt that way) but it felt like a long time until Mister arrived in there. He’d gone with a member of staff as they took all our stuff to a recovery room, then been taken to the OR. Once he was in place, everything started.
Doctor M had asked me before Mister arrived if he wanted to ‘announce’ was the baby was. I told her that he most likely would, but to ask him. She did, and he said yes, he’d love to do that.
There was a blue sheet in front of me so I really couldn’t see anything that went on - which was PERFECTLY FINE with me.
Obviously, I was flat on my back, and everything below my chest was numb. The doctor and others asked me at various times if I felt anything, and I didn’t (other than tugging and pulling). At one point, I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of something burning. “What is that? That burning smell?” I asked, glancing above me (really, behind me) at Bryce, who stood there.
“I’ll tell you later,” he said.
Which immediately told me I didn’t want to know what it was. 
Yeah, it was me burning, while the medical staff cauterized me, keeping me from bleeding to death.
(The fact that cesarean sections are major surgery, and regularly happen every day in the United States, is, frankly, a miracle. Everyone hears about the horror stories when something goes wrong, but considering the number of women who go through them without incident, we as a society completely take them for granted.)
As the tugging and pulling continued, and Doctor M said things like, “there’s the head”, the sense of anticipation increased. I’ve never felt anything like it before. Both Mister and I knew any moment we would meet our baby, and after waiting 39 weeks (and eight years before that), it was almost unbearable.
Doctor M said, “Here’s the baby!”
I heard a slight cry, and I looked up at Mister, who sat on my right, holding my hand. He looked down at me and said, “It’s Jonas.”
Even thinking about that moment now brings tears to my eyes. In knowing Mister almost eleven years, I’ve only seen him cry maybe five times. Including this year, on March 12th. We both were bawling, and laughing at the same time, as Jonas VERY loudly screamed his disapproval at being evicted from his warm, cozy space. At one point, Mister, laughing as he cried said, “One of the ---s (our last name) needs to stop crying in here!”
He has a rather husky cry, Jonas does. I loved his cry from the moment I first heard it (though I don’t actually like to hear him cry, if that makes any sense).
As I was sewn up, Mister moved his chair over to where our baby was, under a heat lamp. Then he brought Jonas over to me. My first thought was, he’s HUGE. My second thought was, he was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.
He weighed nine pounds, five ounces at birth, and had a fifteen inch head circumference. After I heard that, I knew a natural birth was never going to happen. He was born on Friday the 12th of March, at 1:14 pm. The digital clock on the wall said 13:14, which I thought was cool. And it made it a bit easier to remember the time :)
He had lots of dark hair, which I loved. My sister’s had bald babies, so it was nice to have a different-looking kid. Over the last few months, his hair almost entirely disappeared due to cradle cap, and is coming back in...blond. Genetics!
I can say now that it’s past, that I was more afraid during pregnancy than I could admit to anyone, even Mister. I have always been a worrier, and finally being pregnant after so many years, and being high risk due to my age (and my shunt, and the gestational diabetes...) I was in almost constant worry of something going wrong. First of miscarriage (no one needed to tell me of the statistics regarding older mothers), then of stillbirth, like the cord getting wrapped around baby’s neck, and death happening before delivery could happen. I have heard of at least two different stories of that happening to pregnant women in the ninth month - friends of friends of mine - and the fear of that, or something else equally catastrophic happening was, at times, almost crippling. I would’ve preferred to have never been pregnant at all rather than suffer a miscarriage or stillbirth. 
Perhaps it sounds childish, but mentally I didn’t think I was strong enough to have the dream of motherhood dashed, when every day of pregnancy brought that dream closer. I was (and still am) too much of a realist to ignore the statistics; I couldn’t pretend I was 22 and have a blissfully ignorant uneventful pregnancy. To this day, even after giving birth to a healthy baby, one of the biggest things that will set me off is the assumption that way too many people have. “We’re planning on getting pregnant soon.” “Just have kids, you’ll understand.” “I can take you out and make one just like you.” [a redneck phrase I’ve heard being said to a misbehaving child]
Not many of us can “plan” on getting pregnant exactly when we want to - or even within a year’s time. Not all of us can “just have kids” - they’re not like going to the store and getting a gallon of milk. (I recognize the privilege of living in a society where going to the store and expecting fresh milk can also sound arrogant to those who don’t live in one.) ‘Take out’ a kid (even said in jest), and ‘make another one’? I MIGHT have another child in the next couple years. More likely, I won’t. Not all of us can just get pregnant at the drop of a hat. (That’s assuming the one wanting to get pregnant even has a male partner or sperm donor at the ready...some never find that person to have a child with. And adoption can be a great thing, but not everyone is cut out for it. Shaming infertile and childless people for not wanting to adopt is disgusting.)
I was open with my OB-GYN about my fears during pregnancy and she referred me to several resources, and monitored me for PPD. My best friend’s son died in March 2020, a year before Jonas was born (though Billy had severe disabilities which made his death a certain thing), and my sister had had a stillborn son in August 2019 (my nephew Christian). So Jonas being born healthy was a huge relief for me. I can’t really describe the relief, except to say that as much physical weight I gained during pregnancy, letting go of the weight of the worry was felt even more deeply than losing the pounds since his birth (and I’ve haven’t lost all of that).
I will probably always worry about *something*, when it comes to Jonas. He gave me a scare earlier this week, rolling off the couch before I could catch him. He’s fine...and the incident scared me more than it scared him. But every day since he was born is a reminder of the gift he is, and I hope I never lose sight of that, even on the frustrating days (and there have been those over the last almost six months, and there will be more to come).
If you ever wanted children, and are fortunate enough to have them, cherish them. Be grateful for them, even when they drive you up the wall. Even when you only want three minutes’ peace, and they won’t give it to you. Love them anyway. I try to.  
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lils-of-the-valley · 3 years
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Summer Time (Family) Madness
What’s up! I finally wrote something and didn’t post it at 1 am! That doesn’t mean I proofread it though (RIP I'm so tired I posted it to the wrong blog so I had to redo it)
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AO3
Apologizing to Emily was a lot harder than Langa had anticipated. He knew he could be stubborn, but Emily was worse. She did everything in her power to avoid him: locking herself in Nanako’s room as soon as he left his, turning away from him if she had the misfortune of being in the living room when he got back from work or the skatepark, eating at a different time from Langa and his mother. No matter what Langa tried, she refused to acknowledge him. He didn’t exist anymore to her.
And Langa had tried reaching out to her, both physically and metaphorically. He had tried grabbing her arm, forcing her to acknowledge him, but he was just shaken off the same way he had shaken her off three days prior. He had tried being gentler, calling her name the few times he did see her leave the room to get food, but he had been ignored. Langa had even tried texting her an apology, but the text had never been opened, the little checkmark never appearing next to his text. Emily was rightfully pissed, Langa understood that, but after 72 hours, he was starting to get annoyed again. She could have at least given him a chance! It had been three days, for crying out loud!
“Seem familiar?” Nanako asked over her cup of tea. Langa didn’t miss the amused smile on his mother’s face or the way her brown eyes were staring straight through him. Recently, she was really starting to pick up on whatever Langa was feeling, which he wasn’t sure if he was grateful for or absolutely mortified about.
“I-!” Langa bit the inside of his cheek as he pushed his pancake around his plate. “Okay, fair.”
“Look, I talked to Emily this morning. She’s still pretty mad at you for snapping at her and refusing to tell her why, but she seems ready to talk about it. It wasn’t my place to explain your actions, but I did encourage her to give you a chance to apologize. Which,” Langa shrunk in his seat the way his mother was looking at him, “I really shouldn’t have had to do, Langa. You’re an adult now; you shouldn’t need to have your mother fixing your problems anymore.” Nanako sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she took a long sip of her tea. “But, here we are. I don’t even want to imagine the chaos that would have been if your father and I had decided to give you a little brother or sister. I don’t think I would have survived those fights if I’m struggling with just you and your cousin.”
Langa had asked a few times for a baby brother or sister when he had been younger. He had been in kindergarten and watching the children arrive with siblings made him envy them. The closest thing he had to a sibling was Emily, and he only say her during the summer. But those kids, they had a friend all year long. And they didn’t have to meet anyone new because siblings were family and family wasn’t scary. Not like all the kids whose faces were starting to blur together.
As he got older, he grew to be content with being an only child. He didn’t have to share at home. Everything at home was his: his toys, his parents, his room. As he grew older, he heard the other kids complain about their siblings, how they were hogging the tv or finished the last of the cereal without telling anyone. So Langa was happy with being alone. It was perhaps selfish of him, but he was glad he just had to deal with another kid just during the summer. Playing with Emily in the summer was more than enough.
But as he got older, Langa also wondered what it would have been like to have a real sibling, someone constantly buzzing around him. Would they have snowboarded with him? Would they have looked up at him? Would they have played with him? Would they have fought a lot? And would Langa have been a good brother, like Reki was? Would he have been able to help his sibling with their homework or their daily problems? Would he have been able to give and give and give so much like Reki did? Would have been as kind as Reki when-
Langa shook his head, shaking away the thought of Reki. He had to stop thinking of Reki all the damn time.
“Maybe it would have been better if I had a sibling. Maybe I would actually know how to say sorry?”
A light chuckle shook the teacup his mother was holding to her lips. “Maybe. But it’s never too late to start learning! I really think you should go see Emily. Oh! And bring her breakfast while you’re at it! It’ll be bonus points for you!”
Langa gave his mother a curt nod before moving to the kitchen counter to prepare a plate of pancakes for Emily. If there was one thing Langa knew, it was that food always cheers people up. Food was a universal peace offering that no one could refuse. Nobody could refuse a good plate of fluffy pancakes drowned in maple syrup. Or at least, Langa wouldn’t have been able to refuse. Hopefully, Emily wouldn’t refuse.
The confidence that Langa had built up lasted a grand total of three minutes, just enough time to assemble the plate and make his way to his mother’s room. Everything had been clear in his head: he would knock and apologize to Emily, offering him the pancakes. It was a simple plan, but when it came time to execute it, Langa froze. The words jumbled in his head and his hands refused to cooperate. He had to knock. Form a fist, lightly tap the door, that was all. Yet it felt like the most difficult thing to do. His fingers only tightened around the plate, not wanting to let go of it.
What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? If, a big if, Emily opened the door after he finally fessed up the courage to knock, then he would have to say something. He’d have to say sorry. He would have to say sorry, but for what? For being cold and distant and…. Like himself? No. That was making excuses. It was a bad habit of his, apologizing and making excuses for himself. Like when he had that big fight with Reki- No! He was not thinking of Reki. He was thinking of Emily and how he was going to say sorry for shouting at her. He was thinking of Emily and how he was going to apologize for being inconsiderate and too in his own head to realize that he was hurting her and straight-up selfish. He was going to apologize instead of ignoring the situation until it went away.
With a deep breath, Langa raised his first. One knock. Silence. Two knocks. Movement in the room. Three knocks. The door creaking open.
Emily stood in the doorway, staring up at Langa, her eyes devoid of their usual warmth. Her eyes flickered between his face and the plate he was holding up for her, a peace offering. There was no sign of cheeriness in her face, only a deep frown. She was small, but she seemed so big. Small, but intimidating.
Langa shifted from foot to foot, pushing the plate into her hands. “It’s, it’s for you. Mom made it. Thought you’d like some.”
Finally! Finally, she took the plate, though she didn’t seem any closer to wanting to listen to Langa. But she didn’t turn away. She just stood there in the doorway, plate in hand.
“And I- I just…” Langa inhaled sharply. He could do this. He could fix this. “I’m sorry.”
It was stupid. It was so stupid. He felt like a little kid on the playground, small and childish, sent off to apologize for breaking the other kid’s plastic shovel. He felt like a child who had no clue how to apologize. Sorry. I’m sorry. It was all he knew how to say. He didn’t know how to truly, properly apologize. He had never cared enough about people to feel the need to say more than just sorry.
“Did your mom send you to apologize or is this really from you?”
“Me! I’m sorry, I mean it.” Langa did mean it, but Emily didn’t seem completely convinced yet. “I… shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m sorry.”
“Alright, alright,” she shifted her weight onto one foot, leaning into the doorframe, “don’t need to overuse it. I know we’re known for constantly apologizing, but you know damn well that that’s just a stereotype. You don’t actually have to say sorry every other word.”
“But I feel like I should.”
Emily sighed. “Alright. Don’t overdo it either. But,” she glanced towards the kitchen behind Langa, right where Nanako was sitting, sipping her tea and finishing her breakfast, “can we talk in your room? Like, don’t get me wrong, I love Auntie Nanako, but it’s just… feels weird doing this in front of her. Like we’re back at the grandparents and we have to apologize for breaking whatever before going home and the parents want to make sure we’ve properly apologized? Yeah, it’s… it’s really weird. No offense to your mom or anything.”
“I get it, no worries. Reki’s the same way.”
Emily raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. “You really never stop thinking of him, do you?”
“I-!” He didn’t. He had to stop, but somehow Reki always found his way back into Langa’s head. “He’s my best friend. And the only one of my friends who’s come over. So it’s just, it’s a coincidence.”
“Uh-huh, sure, sure.” Emily brushed past Langa, making her way to his room with her breakfast. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
“I’m serious!” Langa huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and refusing to acknowledge the heat forming in his cheeks as he followed his cousin. “You know, for someone who’s pissed at me, you sure are in a good mood.”
“Oh.” Emily stopped in front of his closed-door before turning to him with a grin. “I stopped being mad at you like two days ago.”
Two days ago. That was impossible. Just last night she was leaving the kitchen as soon as Langa was coming in, kicking his shoes off. Just last night she was locking herself in his mother’s room, refusing to even look at him. It was impossible that she wasn’t still mad at him. It didn’t make sense.
“Yeah, I’m just really petty.”
It was the way she was saying it, just shrugging as she pushed the door open. It was how nonchalant she was about it, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You…” Langa sighed. Reasoning was impossible. “You made me suffer for three days, brushing me off, refusing to eat at the same time as me, basically telling me to go fuck myself for… for what reason?”
“You were insufferable for three days, so it was only fair that I made you suffer the same amount.”
“You,” Langa said with a huff and entering his room right behind his cousin, “are impossible.”
“Thanks!”
As Emily got comfortable on the floor, her back pressed against the closet door as she got ready to eat, Langa let his whole body flop onto his bed. It had gone better than he had anticipated, but it had still been exhausting. The spiraling insecurities always took a lot out of him. But as soon as his body sank into his mattress, his face hitting his pillow, everything melted away. Everything felt better, the weight of his mistakes lifted from his shoulders. And the sound of Emily struggling to cut her pancakes with her fork reminded him that things would be okay. He hadn’t broken everything important to him.
Langa shifted on his bed, folding his arms and tucking them under his chin as he looked over at Emily.
“I’m serious though. I am sorry about being insufferable and all. Just…”
“It’s fine, really. Apology accepted, Langa. Just,” Emily stopped picking at her plate, her brown eyes falling onto Langa instead, “can I finally know why you were acting all shitty and whatever?”
Why had he acted the way he did? The answer was terribly obvious, but it was also stupid. Terribly stupid.
“Reki?”
Silence emptied the room completely. Emile blinked at Langa, a forkful of pancakes hanging between her mouth and her plate as she gapped at him. It was stupid. So stupid. Langa should have lied. He should have found another reason. Now he seemed stupid because he was and this whole situation was stupid because of Langa’s stupid heart that was constantly beating in his chest at a speed that was probably alarming and-
“You…” Emily inhaled sharply, putting her plate and fork down onto her lap and brought her hands together to her mouth. Then her hands were pointed in Langa’s direction and he sank into his pillow. “You were an asshole to me for three days because of your boyfriend?”
Heat raced through his body as Langa jolted up. “He’s not-!”
“Fine! Your ‘best friend’ or whatever you wanna call it! What- What the actual fuck, Langa?”
“I don’t know! I don’t…”
Langa shouldn’t have been laughing. He should have been serious, trying to explain his mess. But Emily was laughing, her hands in her face as she wiped away tears, and it was hard to not laugh with her. Maybe she had also realized that everything was ridiculous. Maybe she had finally realized that Langa was absolutely ridiculous.
“I don’t know, Emmy. I really- It made sense, or maybe it never really did?”
“No, it does not make any sense. You do not make any sense, you twig!”
“I just… I was mad, okay? I don’t know who I was mad at – probably myself most of all – but it was just easier to take it out on you since, since, you know, you kinda, I mean, if you hadn’t come to DopeSketch then maybe?”
“You were pissed at me because your not-boyfriend suggested teaching me how to skate? You… what the fuck?”
Langa dropped back into his pillow, resisting the urge to scream. It sounded so much worse when said like that. It sounded so much worse when talking about it. If only he could disappear forever and avoid the absolute humiliation of having Emily half-screaming at him, half-laughing at him. It was worse than… than anything, really. Langa was ready to dig his own hole to hide in.
He peered over his pillow, not ready to let go of it quite yet. It was a rather effective shield.
“Yes? I mean… It’s not the skating part that bothered me. It’s the-”
“Part where it sounded like he was asking me out?”
Langa chewed on the inside of his cheek, nodding hesitantly into his pillow. He was aware that he was acting like a child who was caught doing something wrong. He was aware that he looked stupid and foolish. He was aware that he was supposed to be able to handle himself just a little better than that, but what was he to do? The pillow was the only thing keeping him safe.
“Langa! You useless-!”
Langa almost missed Emily pinching the bridge of her nose, looking more exasperated than he had ever seen her.
“You… Look, first off, he wasn’t asking me out. And second of all, if you had stuck around an extra 20 seconds, you would have known I turned him down.”
Emily had turned Reki down. She had refused him. What kind of monster refuses anything from Reki?
“What? Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why’d you turn him down?”
Emily clicked her tongue as she stared up at the ceiling. “Well, it’s pretty simple, really. Your ‘friend’ there,” Langa cringed at the air quotes, “really did sound like he was asking me out, which apparently actually wasn’t his intention. But even if it had been his intention, he’s basically a kid. He’s not even 18, is he?”
“Next week.”
“So he’s not even 18, which is… weird? I don’t know, even if he was 18, it would still be weird for me. Not that was the main point of this. The most important part of this,” Emily straightened out, leaning closer to Langa, “I know you like him. Hell, I think everyone knows that you’re basically head over heels for him.”
“Everyone but him,” Langa mumbled into his pillow, completely defeated. There was no point in moving out of the fluff.
“I… I don’t think you’re giving the kid enough credit, Langa. I don’t think he’s as dense as you paint him to be.”
“Oh great. Yay for me. I get to fuck up yet another friendship.”
“I… also don’t think you’re messing up your friendship.” Langa could hear Emily shuffle on her side of the room, the fork clanking against the ceramic plate. She was probably starting to feel sore from the hardwood floor. “Look, I don’t know shit. The only news I’ve gotten of you in the past three years has been from your mom talking to grandma who would then tell my mom. And from the time I’ve been here, well, I’m just your dumb, airhead cousin. My opinion isn’t worth shit, but it kinda looks like it might be reciprocated?”
Langa propped up onto his elbows, huffing as he stared at Emily. “It’s not. And all you’re achieving right now is giving me false hope.”
“No! That’s not-! I didn’t mean… I was talking to Reki, after you stormed off like a big baby.”
“Gee, thanks. False hope and making fun of me.”
“And like, I was telling him that I was flattered and all, but that I had to turn down his offer since, you know, I’m heading back home in a couple of weeks. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone to try something with an expiration date and he doesn’t seem to be the type to just wanna hook up or whatever.”
Langa buried his face in his pillow again, hands over his ears. “I don’t wanna think about it, I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t wanna think about it, I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t wanna think about it, I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t-”
“I didn’t say that to him, you twig! Now listen to me! I don’t wanna talk about sex with you, anyway!”
Langa’s face was flushed and panicked as he lifted it from his pillow for what felt like the thousandth time in a very little amount of time. His voice was high-pitched, only accentuating his horror. “I don’t wanna talk about sex with anyone! Especially not- No!”
“Aw, it’s okay, little baby Langa. I won’t disgust you with that. But I will tell you that Reki is so cute when he’s flustered. Like, he’s adorable, isn’t he?”
“I… will not answer that.”
Emily raised an eyebrow, a smile stretching across her face.
“Right. I forgot, you probably find him cute even when he’s passed out cold, snoring and drooling into his pillow.” Langa stayed quiet, chewing at his lip. “But yeah, turns out that it was just genuine desire to get me to try something new that would keep me busy? He was so embarrassed at the whole miscommunication thing and thinking he was asking me out. But so very cute. Just wanted to pinch his cheeks and squish his little face! Ah! I can’t wait for you to ask him out! Like, it’ll be so cute! And dumb! Because look at you!”
Embarrassed didn’t even begin to describe whatever it was that was twisting in Langa’s body. There was the heat of embarrassment, the desire for Emily to just shut the fuck up, but there was also the lightness of familiarity and fun. Falling back into the easy banter was nice. It was much better than being mad or being ignored. It was… comforting to know that there was someone he could talk to like this.
“This feels homophobic.”
Emily stared at him with a deadpan expression which made him snicker.
“When’s the last time you made that joke?”
“Whenever the last time you spoke to me and forced my hand.”
“I did not- Go to Hell!”
Oh, she was making this just too easy for him.
“But,” Langa cocked his head to the side, not bothering to hide his amused smile, “isn’t that where all the gays go?”
Exasperation stained Emily’s face as she reached out to him, her hands making a choking motion. Oh, how he had missed the jokes. How he had missed being annoying and obnoxious.
“How? How have you not outed yourself yet?”
Langa shrugged. “Simple. I don’t know how to say half of this shit in Japanese, so I can’t say it. Plus, new place, new life. Only you get the privilege of dealing with how I was back in Canada. But you bet your ass that I’m thinking it, even if I’m not saying it.”
“I’m sure you’re also thinking of someone’s ass-!”
It was a reflex, throwing the pillow at Emily. It was the only thing Langa could think of to get her to shut up. But the moment the pillow collided with the girl, her whole body curling to defend herself from the attack, Langa knew he had fucked up. Metal and ceramic clattered across his floor, half-eaten pancakes and an ungodly amount of smuggled maple syrup pooling on Emily’s lap and at her feet. Both froze, staring at the white pillow soaking in the sticky mess they had created.
“Damn, all this because you can’t take an ass joke.”
“I will choke you.”
“Kinky. Keep it for your boyfriend.”
So Emily was even worse than him. At least, when it came to obnoxiously dumb jokes. When it came to cleaning, both sucked, just staring at the floor instead of doing anything. At this rate, Langa would be better off just buying himself a new pillow; there was no way he would manage to get all that syrup out of it. But moving meant acknowledging the problem, and Langa was not ready for that. Or maybe he just didn’t like cleaning up messes.
“If my pillow is trash, I will murder you.”
Reluctantly, Emily picked up the pillow, holding it far from herself. A large stain had formed on the pillowcase, having probably seeped through the fabric and into the pillow’s fluff. Her face twisted in disgust. She also didn’t seem keen on cleaning and laundry.
“I invite you to try, but people have been trying and failing for the past 20 years.”
Langa sighed, finally pulling his legs off his bed and crouching down in from of the flipped plate. How was he supposed to clean this up? Where did he even start?
“Just help me clean your mess.”
“My mess? Excuse me? You’re the one who hit me with a pillow and caused this!”
The fork. He would start by picking up the fork. And maybe the plate. Leaving it on the floor was just risking breaking it. Hopefully, it wasn’t chipped.
“Go get the cleaning products. I think mom keeps them under the sink in the bathroom. And throw my pillow into a bag or something. We’ll have to go to the laundromat later.”
Emily sighed, finally pushing herself off the ground. She still held the pillow with the tip of her fingers, very far from her body.
“Fine! I’ll keep you company later, but you’re cleaning your floor! I’m not touching anything sticky and gross.”
“It’s maple syrup. How is that gross?”
“Just saying that I don’t know what trash you’ve put on your floor and I am not scrubbing it.”
“Just go get the stuff before this leaks through the floorboard.”
Emily huffed one last time before exiting the room. While he waited, Langa could hear his mother questioning Emily. “What was that noise?” “What are you looking for?” “Did you and Langa make up?” A smile pulled on the corner of Langa’s mouth. He knew his mother would ask questions and that was the only reason he had sent Emily to fetch the cleaning products. He knew if he had gone himself, then he would have had a thousand questions to answer which he absolutely did not want to do.
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kmseokjins · 5 years
Text
Twisted Tails (Chapter 1)
Fandom: BTS Pairing: BTS x Reader / (Future) Poly!OT7 x Reader / Hybrid!BTS x Human!Female!Reader Warnings: angst (Jimin is upset) Words: 5.5k words (GOOD LORD.)
Summary: When you meet with your later sister’s lawyer, you’re not expecting to suddenly own two hybrids. Of course, things end up being a tad more complicated than that once you get to the shelter. Upset Jimin inbound.
Hybrids: GermanShepherd!Namjoon, BirmanCat!Jimin, more to come later!
Notes: Well, looks like I’m jumping on the Hybrid!BTS train. For now, this is mostly Jimin and Namjoon centered, but the other boys will be introduced down the line (feedback depending). I hope I didn’t make Jimin too clingy or anything. I’m so excited yet incredibly nervous to post this fic tbh. I hope y’all like it! Depending on the feedback I get, we shall see if there’s future chapters on the horizon! ;)  Special shoutout to @mygsii for help with this fic title! <3
Archive Of Our Own || Next Chapter
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“Your sister left her hybrids to you.”
“Wha-? I’m-I’m sorry, what?”
“Her two hybrids. She left them to you.”
“There has to be a mistake, I...I don’t know how to take care of a hybrid.”
“Her Will states it so, there is no mistake.”
You’re downright flabbergasted. When you had received the call from some lawyer’s office last week about your late sister’s estate, you hadn’t been expecting this. On top of the fact that you’d been shocked to hear that your sister had a Will; she was only four years older than you, for Pete’s sake! Leave it to your sister to give you grey hairs from beyond the grave. She’d left everything to you, including her two hybrids.
You knew about hybrids, of course. One would have to be living under a rock to not heard anything about them before. It had been a wild craze for decades now: “Own your own Hybrid! Companionship, pets, and more!” It made your stomach queasy just thinking about it. You heard the horror stories about hybrids being forced to participate in underground fighting (more often than not, to the death), subjected to hard labor, or used as sex slaves. You literally shuddered, and not in a good way.
Hybrids were half human, exhibiting the physical traits of whatever species they were crossed with in the form of tails, ears, claws, and eyes. Usually hybrids displayed one or two of those traits, although it wasn’t uncommon for them to display all those traits. In addition, hybrids also displayed the instincts of said species, some more than others.
You were somewhat familiar with your sister’s hybrids; you had met Namjoon and Jimin several times. They were both sweet and docile, and despite the fact that you had never owned a hybrid before, you were certain you had lucked out with the two. At least you weren’t bringing home two hybrids that didn’t know you..
“Where are they?” You straightened from your thoughts as you realized you hadn’t seen the hybrids yet. You hadn’t thought to ask about them last week when you’d been asked questions by the police; you had been too upset, wallowing in the grief of losing your big sister. How could you have been so heartless in not inquiring about Namjoon and Jimin? They had surely been grieving just the same as you at the loss of your sister.
The lawyer sitting at the desk in front of you glanced up at you over his thinly rimmed glasses, eyebrows furrowing slightly before he relaxed when he seemed to know what you were questioning him about. 
“They’re at the shelter downtown, the police too-,”
“What!?” You shot up from the chair you had been uncomfortably perched in, barely aware of the man jolting slightly at your sudden movement and your shout. They took them to the shelter? While most shelters weren’t bad, you could only imagine the stress Namjoon and Jimin were going through right now.
You were almost to the door when the lawyer stopped you, “Wait! You have to sign some things. I have documents and folders for you from your sister. Please, Miss L/N.” 
Your shoulders slumped before you whirled around and hurried back to the desk, hoping this signing wouldn’t take long.
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“It won’t take long, Miss. It’s only a few signatures and then you can be on your way.” 
You grumbled sarcastically under your breath as you drove through downtown, fingers tapping impatiently on the wheel. What you thought would take ten minutes ended up taking twice that. The few documents and folders from your sister ended up being a box full. The said box, black and heavy, sat in the passenger seat of your SUV. The thin folder resting on top contained the papers for Namjoon and Jimin.
You wanted to look through the box, but you decided you could do that later after you got Namjoon and Jimin from the shelter. They didn’t need to be there any longer than they already were, it had been at least a week or so, according to the lawyer. God, what if someone had come in and adopted them!? Your sister would be rolling around in her grave if that were true. You’d seen how much she’d loved the two hybrids, if anything happened to them under your watch...she would come back to haunt your ass, you just knew it.
Your heart was fluttering in your chest as you pulled into the parking lot of the shelter and pulled into an empty parking spot, turning off your vehicle before taking a moment to survey the building. The parking lot had a few cars, which you assumed was mostly workers. The building was nice; a little too nice, if you really thought about it. The concrete walls were painted beige, the sign printed with the shelter name was big and neat, like it had just been put up to hang on the front of the building over the set of glass doors.
Taking a deep breath, you snag the folder on top of the box before sliding from your SUV and shutting the door, pressing the lock button as you made a beeline for the glass doors.
As soon as you stepped into the front lobby, you shivered slightly at the coolness. Someone apparently had the air cranked down. The lobby was a decent size with white walls, a few aesthetic paintings of flowers, and a row of chairs along one wall. The main desk was directly ahead, and you frowned at the sight of an empty chair. Clutching the folder in your hands, you approached and peered around.
“Hello?” You called out, wishing there was a bell or something you could ring. You jerked your attention towards the door behind the desk at several muffled shouts from behind it. Tilting your head curiously, you jerk back slightly when the door suddenly bursts open and a tall, blonde woman steps through.
“Oh! Hello!” She greets after a moment of silence, clearing her throat before she quickly takes a seat in the chair behind the desk. “I apologize if you’ve been waiting too long. Can I help you?” She flicks her dark eyes up to you expectantly for your answer.
“Oh, um, well,” You fumble to place the folder down on top of the desk as you also stumble for words, “I’m here to pick up two hybrids that the-,”
“You’re here for hybrids? Wonderful! Is there a certain species or gender you’re looking for? We have several prey hybrids and a few predator hybrids. We have deer, squirrels, wolves, cats, dogs…” She flips her hand around as she explains, “Most of our hybrids are males, but we have a few females if you would prefer them!”
You gape at her for several moments before you’re shaking your head, “No, no. The police brought in two hybrids last week, I think? Namjoon is a dog hybrid and Jimin is a cat hybrid. If I had known they were here sooner, I wouldn’t have let them stay so long…” You inch the folder towards her, “I have their papers right here.”
The woman tugs the folder from your grasp and flips it open, eyes scanning the documents within for a few moments before she glances up at you, “I know these two,” She offers you a look of sympathy, “They’ve had several interested parties, and they’re currently being visited by one of those parties now.”
“You can’t adopt them out, I have their papers and they belong to my sister-,” You choked on the words, clearing your throat, “I mean...I...they’re...they’re in my care now, and I have papers to prove it,” You gesture at the folder the woman still has clutched in her hands.
“We give owners 72 hours to claim their hybrids before we make them available for adoption, Miss,” She offers the folder back towards you, “If you leave your name and number, we can contact you if their adoption doesn’t go through..?”
You felt sick as soon as the words passed her lips. You couldn’t leave without Namjoon and Jimin. You didn’t know the first thing about taking care of hybrids, but you couldn’t let your sister down. She had trusted you with them. Not doing everything in your power to make things right didn’t settle well with you. You wouldn’t give up that easily.
Squaring your shoulders, you offered the secretary a beaming smile, “Actually, can I be shown some hybrids? I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” You grit the words out as sweetly and innocently as you can to the woman, who has her eyebrows raised slightly at your sudden shift in demeanor.
She must not dwell on it too long because she straightens after a moment with a smile, “Of course! Let me call Jackson and get you set up for a look around.”
You hoped you could lay eyes on Namjoon and Jimin during your tour. You wanted to make sure they were alright and that they were actually here. You didn’t want to disrespect your late sister’s wishes, but you knew that such matters could already be out of your hands. If worse came to worse, you suppose you could call your sister’s lawyer and get his help with this mess.
-----------------------
“Amanda said you weren’t sure what you wanted, is that right? We usually recommend a breed of dog or cat hybrids for first time owners….you are a first time owner, right? I’m assuming you’re not interested in our more exotic hybrids? We recommend more domestic hybrids to first timers.”
Jackson, it turned out, was a very happy and excitable person. He’d been rather enthusiastic ever since he’d come barreling through the doorway five minutes prior, a wide (and rather blinding) smile plastered on the tall brunette’s face. You’d been startled enough at his entrance to not put much effort into fighting him off when he’d rounded the desk and hugged you. You had tensed up immediately at the contact, eyes wide at how little he respected personal space. The hug, thankfully, was quick and brief before he’d offered out his hand to shake. You’d stared at his outstretched hand for several moments, perplexed that he hadn’t offered his hand in the first place. You would have preferred that.
You followed him through the door he had emerged from behind the secretary (Amanda apparently), folder tucked safely away (mostly) in your purse. “Yeah, first time owner,” You answered him, looking back and forth at the various doors that lined the brightly lit hallway. All the doors were shut, but a window in the doors offered you glimpses into the rooms beyond; the beds, desks, toys, and personal items you’d seen indicated they were the hybrid’s rooms.
“Most of them are out in the social area right now.” Jackson gestures to the door that you’ve both approached as he turns the handle and pushes it open, urging you through into the room, “I can introduce you to a few if you like?” 
You had been expecting to enter a room that was entirely too small and lackluster to be the social area for hybrids. You’d seen the pictures before of poor environments of shelters and adoption centers, little to no care for the enrichment of the hybrids that stayed there. You were, for lack of a better word, quite speechless at the room you stepped into.
The room was huge and brightly lit, walls painted an off white. It was filled with several tables, beanbags, and benches throughout, along with several enrichment items (including platforms that resembled trees) and toys. Hybrids of all kinds dotted around the room, most playing, sitting, or lounging around. You caught sight of several cats perched in the tree platforms. At the sound of you and Jackson entering, a few hybrids glance your way curiously before resuming what they had been doing prior. 
The surprise that filters over your face as you take it in causes the man beside you to laugh, “A lot of people have walked through that door with that same look on their face. Impressive, yes?”
“Very.” You agree, “I’ve heard so many horror stories over the years about how some shelters look and treat the hybrids there. It’s...nice to see something like this.” You continue honestly, catching the slight bob of his head in agreement with you.
Over the years, you had heard countless stories on hybrid shelters: poor living environments, sick and ill hybrids, very little enrichment tools afforded to the hybrids housed there. A poorly cared for and neglected hybrid without the proper tools to keep them happy often lead to hybrids falling ill, and some cases, even brought about their death. Unhappiness really could drag them down. Of course, hybrid shelters weren’t the only ones with a bad rap: the horror stories coming out of breeding centers were even worse.
“We try to keep the hybrids in our care as stress free as we can.” Jackson urges you further into the room, earning a few more curious looks from the hybrids in the social area. “Of course, it comes with challenges, especially when hybrids are brought back.” He sighs softly at the admission, “We are strict with the hybrids that have been returned more than three times, adopting them is much more rigorous than a hybrids that’s never been adopted or only returned once. We’re rigorous regardless, but you can never be too sure…”
You’re half listening to him as you look around, desperately trying to catch sight of Namjoon and Jimin, but your shoulders slump when you don’t find them. You’re disappointed, even if the shelter did appear to be great keeping hybrids happy. You glanced sideways at Jackson, wondering if you should ask about the two hybrids and let him know that they were, legally, yours. Then again, what if they were adopted by someone nice, who was much more qualified to take care of the two rather than you? What had your sister been thinking?
Apparently she hadn’t been thinking at all.
Turning slightly to face Jackson, you opened your mouth to question him about the two hybrids when a commotion from the doorway opposite the one you’d entered caught both of your attention. There’s a muffled commotion behind the door for several seconds before it’s hastily shoved open by a short, brunette woman who looks rather stressed before her eyes land on Jackson. She immediately seems relieved, mostly.
“Jackson! Thank god, can you spare a few minutes to help?” She glances behind her down the hallway, a shriek echoing behind her before she’s jerking her head back to Jackson. All the hybrids around you are tense and looking towards the woman and the commotion behind her. “Jimin is very upset, he-,”
At the mention of Jimin, you’re immediately perking up, tilting your head as you attempt to figure out what exactly is going on behind her. She could easily be talking about another Jimin, but your gut is quite certain she’s talking about the Jimin you know. A hand pats your shoulder, muffled words reaching your ears before you take note of Jackson hurriedly moving towards the woman. He moves quickly, but it's more of a fast walk, no doubt to avoid stressing or startling the hybrids in the room more than they are now.
“I don’t want to! I can’t! You can’t!” Your eyes grow wide at the familiar voice of the cat hybrid that you’d known for the two years that your sister had owned him. Why was he so stressed out? What was going on? Unable to stop yourself, you followed after Jackson, trying to keep your strides even, barely able to catch the door he and the woman disappeared behind before it could close behind them.
You knew that you probably weren’t permitted back here with permission or an escort, but damn the consequences. You had a soft heart and you had never heard the panic and fear in Jimin’s voice like that before. Surely they weren’t hurting him.
Slipping through the door, you let it close behind you as you stopped to survey the scene further down the hallway. In addition to Jackson and the woman, four others were present, including a young woman standing near the wall directly across from three males. One of the men was obviously staff, if the uniform similar to Jackson and the woman’s was any indication. He was halfway between the woman and the other two males, hands raised slightly in surrender as he murmured softly to the males. You couldn’t make out what he was saying to them and instead focused on the two hybrids.
You instantly recognized the two hybrids: Jimin and Namjoon. The black haired cat hybrid was practically wrapped around the back of the tall, brown-haired dog hybrid. You couldn’t even see Jimin’s dark ears, no doubt laid flat enough to blend in with his hair, and his fluffy dark tail was flicking back and forth in clear agitation with the situation. The male he was clinging to was just as tense, his larger ears straight and rigid. He had one hand gripping hold of the cat’s arms around his neck.
“Jaebum, what’s going on?” Jackson asks the question you’re trying to piece together, catching the attention of the four standing further down the hallway as he approaches.
Jaebum, the staff member standing between the two parties, looks away from the two hybrids towards Jackson as he lowers his hands and gently gestures in the direction of the woman against the wall, “Miss Yeri had an appointment to meet Namjoon and Jimin today. Everything was fine until she expressed that she only wanted to adopt Jimin,” He gestures towards Jimin now, who vehemently shakes his head, “I told her that I would have to check with you before we made a decision and Jimin just freaked out.”
“You can’t separate us, please,” Jimin whines, tightening his arms around Namjoon’s neck in the process. Namjoon grunts at the tighter hold that the Birman cat hybrid grips him with, sliding his attention towards Jackson as he nears.
“No one is going to separate you two,” Jackson soothes as he nears the two hybrids, apparently ignoring the young woman by the wall at her soft noise of protest. “I promise, Jimin, we don’t do that here, okay?” He stops advancing towards the two when Namjoon shifts slightly in place, nostrils flaring as he leans forwards slightly towards Jackson, sniffing at him. Jimin makes a soft noise by his ear at the action, but follows the dog hybrid in also sniffing.
It takes only seconds for a pair of blue eyes and brown eyes to meet yours. You can’t help the small and nervous smile you offer, hand raising nervously with a wave. The last time you’d seen the two hybrids had been at least three weeks ago. You gulp as the humans turn to see what’s caught the two males’ attention.
“Y/N-,” Jackson starts, but his voice is drowned out by the cat hybrid.
“Y/N-ah!” The lithe cat hybrid detaches himself from Namjoon, easily darting past Jackson and the short woman before they can stop him. He quickly closed the distance, practically bowling you over when he reaches you and attaches himself to you.
“Jimin-,” You squeak at his tighter-than-necessary hold as he buries his face against the crook of your neck, stumbling slightly at his weight, eyes wide as you look over his shoulder at the audience down the hall. You reach up to loosely clasp your arms around the hybrid, feeling a little awkward at doing so. The humans are all wearing dumbfounded looks, not making any effort to stop Namjoon from slipping past them to follow Jimin to you. He doesn’t move hurriedly, but his longer strides cover the distance almost as quickly.
“I knew you’d come, I kept telling Joonie!” Jimin pulls back slightly to search your face, “You’re here for us, right?” He doesn’t hesitate to bury his face against your shoulder, the ears atop his head no longer flattened like they’d been before. Noises of contentment rumble from his chest as his cheek rubs against your shoulder.
“Yes, I planned on it,” You tell him truthfully, glancing over at Namjoon as the German Shepherd pauses beside you both, “But I’m not sure how easy that’s going to be.” If there was already a claim on them, you weren’t sure how things would proceed if you tried to fight it. You were certain you had a good case, but according to Amanda, the ownership rights to the two were no longer in your hands.
You had doubted whether or not the two would want to even go home with you, despite your sister’s wishes. You’d visited them enough over the years for them to be familiar with you, but you had never really been subjected to such affection, especially from Jimin. The dark-haired male with his brilliant blue eyes was a sweetheart, but his affection had mostly been reserved for your sister and Namjoon. To be smothered against the cat right now was quite shocking. Was he really happy to see you because of you, or because you were the last connection he had to your sister?
Your eyes desperately searched for Namjoon, silently begging the dog hybrid to help you. Namjoon’s lips twitched slightly at your expression before he reached out to slip an arm around Jimin and peel the male away from you, much to the male’s protesting whines at Namjoon. Just when you thought you were free from suffocating from affection, something soft wrapped around your wrist and tugged. Unprepared for the tugging, you stumbled sideways slightly, bumping into the two hybrids.
You chose to ignore the cheshire-like grin on Jimin’s face as the three staff members approached, followed hesitantly by the young woman, Yeri. She didn’t look too happy, if the stormy look on her face that she sent you was anything to go by.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jackson apologized immediately as he approached, eyebrows raised as he took note of Jimin’s tail wrapped around your wrist and your close proximity to the two; you could barely feel the brush of Namjoon’s chest at your back. “Jimin isn’t normally like this. He usually prefers to keep his affections to Namjoon,” Jackson indicated the German Shepherd behind you.
“It’s fine,” You assure him softly, meeting Jimin’s stare before quickly focusing back on Jackson, “Actually, I’m interested in Jimin and Namjoon,” It’s another nervous smile from you, a little uneasy with all the attention focused solely on you. Jimin’s tail tightens slightly on your wrist and you can feel Namjoon’s chest crowd slightly closer to your back. Obviously they can smell your distress with the situation. You do your best to relax and shove aside your nerves.
“What?” Jackson seems taken aback, “Are you sure? You’re a first time owner and handling two hybrids is a lot of work. You hadn’t had time to look at the other hybrids..”
“Yes, I’m sure. Actually, I have their paperwork right here with me.” You reach with your free hand to pull the folder with their papers from your purse and offer it towards Jackson, “Jimin and Namjoon belonged to my sister. She signed them over to me in the event of her death in her Will. I would have gotten them sooner, but the lawyer’s office didn’t contact me until recently.” You explained as quickly as you could as Jackson flipped open the folder to look over the papers within, “Your secretary, Amanda, told me that owners only have 72 hours to claim their hybrids when their brought to the shelter, but I wasn’t informed that I was their owner until literally an hour ago.”
Jackson hummed and nodded along as he listened, “The proper paperwork is here, but...we’ll have to discuss it with the Director and see how we proceed with this from here. The two have had several interested in them, including Miss Yeri.”
The mentioned woman straightens, “She can have the dog,” She says stiffly, sliding her attention from you to Jimin, who refuses to acknowledge her, head tucked under Namjoon’s chin, his ears camouflaged in his hair once more. “I’m only interested in the cat.”
You furrow your eyebrows at her balant disinterest in Namjoon, appalled that she thought she could separate the two. They’d been together since before your sister had adopted them, at least that’s what she told you, and despite the fact that cats and dogs were notorious for not getting along, the two surprisingly had very few spats. Jimin’s display of distress at the thought of being separated from Namjoon hadn’t seemed to make the woman change her mind; how many people had been interested in them, only to want one of them? Had Jimin or Namjoon been thrown into distress more than once since they’d been here?
Had your sister been here, you had no doubt she would be threatening to throw hands with Yeri. The mental image almost made you crack a smile. You, on the other hand, bit your tongue and said nothing. At least, for now. Where your sister was quick to anger, you had a much cooler head on your shoulders.
“Like I said before Miss Yeri, we don’t separate hybrids that are bonded.” Jackson repeats, not even looking towards the woman he’s speaking to, “Doing so causes untold stress on the hybrids and diminishes their quality of life.” He closes the folder and looks at you expectantly, “Let’s go to the director and get this sorted out, yeah? This is a bit too complicated for me to deal with.” He offers a smile before turning his attention to the two hybrids, “Namjoon, Jimin. Please let Jaebum return you to your room?”
“But-,” Jimin starts to protest, reaching out to loop through yours and tug you closer. You reach over to brush your fingers over his arm in an attempt to comfort him, frowning as he trembled against Namjoon.
“Jiminie,” Namjoon’s voice was low and soothing as he speaks for the first time since you’d come across the commotion, “It’s alright,” You glanced upwards to look at him, watching curiously as he rubbed his chin against the top of Jimin’s head, the cat still tucked against him. Namjoon reached out to gently disentangle Jimin’s arm from yours and carefully unwound the younger’s tail from your wrist. “C’mon, let’s go take a nap, okay?” Jimin whined at the loss of contact, but he slowly nodded, wrapping his arms and tail around Namjoon.
Jaebum took a step towards the two, but immediately froze at the rumbling growl from Namjoon. You didn’t have the heart to blame Namjoon; Jaebum hadn’t helped the situation earlier.
Namjoon gently pulled Jimin away from you, his tail brushing you as he passed, murmuring softly to the smaller male tucked against him as they moved slowly down the hallway, Jaebum cautiously following behind.
You watched them quietly before Jackson clearing his throat brought your attention to the three humans still standing in the hallway with you.
“Shall we?” Jackson asked, gesturing towards the door behind you that lead back to the social area. You nod slowly, stepping aside to let Jackson lead the way.
“I’m coming with as well,” You turn to look at Yeri with furrowed eyebrows as she immediately stomps past you to follow after Jackson. She’d been repeatedly denied her request, but apparently she was far from giving up. You had a feeling that she was more than willing to play dirty to get what she wanted.
Surely if what Jackson said was true, this Director would shut down her request to separate Namjoon and Jimin and send her on her way. You didn’t particularly feel comfortable with even the slightest possibility of Jimin going home with her. Perhaps she would be a better owner than she appeared to be, but could you really let Jimin go home with her if it came down to it?
No, you decided. Your sister would haunt your ass. Scratch that, she would become corporeal and kick your ass.
Straightening, you sent one last look down the hallway before turning and following after Jackson and Yeri.
--------------
You were ready to throw hands at Yeri fifteen minutes into the meeting with the Director.
Calm thoughts. Margaritas on the beach. Warm towels fresh out of the dryer. That carton of Rocky Road ice cream waiting for you at home. 
“Suri will just love him, Jimin can bond with her.”
God, she was still talking. You closed your eyes, chin propped on your hand as you sighed deeply for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. After your first dramatic sigh, Yeri had taken to promptly ignoring you, focusing solely on the woman sitting behind the desk in front of you both. 
Mrs. Choi, the Director, didn’t seem quite impressed with Yeri either, but she had yet to tell the woman to shut up and leave. She remained quiet, aside from the initial introductions and a soft, “Our policy states that we don’t separate bonded hybrids” directed at Yeri once the woman had started in.
Of course, Yeri was either too stubborn or too daft to even care. She started to talk about her other hybrid, a ragdoll named Suri, and how well taken care of and loved Jimin would be once she adopted him. She had everything ready for a new hybrid and you had sworn her eyes got all teary-eyed when she explained how taken she was with Jimin at first sight.
You wanted to punch her. She kept going and going and going, and even now, she hadn’t taken the hint to close her mouth. 
“I’ve owned Suri for five years and she’s been my only ever since. Jimin would be so perfect for her and gosh, the cute little kittens they’d-,”
Jerking upwards in the chair, you slammed your hand on the arm rest, startling the woman beside you enough to actually make her look over at you in shock.
Satisfied you had her attention now, you fixed her with a glare, “You are not separating Jimin from Namjoon. You saw how distressed he was at the mere thought of it, but apparently you don’t care. Are you really that heartless?”
Your sister would be so proud right now. “My sister adopted them together and that’s how they’re going to stay.”
Yeri stared at you, mouth agape for almost a minute before she seemed to get over her shock on your outburst, “Well, where’s your sister? If she cared about them so much, why are they here in the first place?”
“Because she’s dead. Murdered.” You’re surprised you keep your voice steady, although you can feel the fresh burn of tears in your eyes. Tilting your chin up slightly, you force yourself not to let the tears fall, “You’re not separating them. I won’t let you or anyone else. They’ve had enough grief since losing my sister, and I sure as hell am not going to subject them to more.”
“Ms. Chae,” Mrs. Choi’s soft voice filters into the silence that falls over the room and Yeri slowly turns to look at her, “The two hybrids in question will not be separated. Either you are willing to adopt them together or not at all. That is final.”
Yeri opens her mouth and closes it several times before she huffs and abruptly stands before stomping dramatically from the room, slamming the door closed behind her.
Good riddance.
“Ms. L/N,” Turning sharply back to the woman behind the desk, you straighten in place, “There has been another party that has shown interested in both Namjoon and Jimin. They have filled out the necessary paperwork this morning to begin the adoption proceedings for the two.”
You deflate almost instantly at her words, sitting heavily back against the backrest of the chair. That was it then? You had been too late by mere hours. “I...I see.”
“However,” Mrs. Choi continued, and you glanced up at her curiously, “Since this is..a unique situation, along with the fact that you know the two hybrids in question, we’ve decided to make an exception.”
“Really!?” You perch at the edge of the chair at the prospect.
“If you fill out the adoption paperwork today, we would like for you to come back tomorrow for an interview.” She smiled ever so slightly, “In cases where more than one party is interested in a hybrid, we conduct an interview with the parties and then have them to meet with the hybrid in question and see how they interact.” Mrs. Choi paused to gauge your reaction before she continued, “Ultimately, the decision is up to the hybrid, but the interview and paperwork does help us weed out the...less-than-desirable applicants. Is that alright with you?” She prompts gently, leaning forward in her chair.
 You’re nodding almost immediately in answer, “That...that would be great!” Were you really doing this? There wasn’t even a guarantee that it would work out in your favor.
“Where can I fill out the paperwork?”
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