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takerentpe · 2 months

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Music-Themed Baby Shower: Rock, Pop, and Classical Inspirations

Celebrating the upcoming arrival of a new baby is always a joyous occasion, and what better way to do it than with a music-themed baby shower decoration? Combining the universal language of music with creative decorations can make for a memorable and unique event. Whether you're a fan of rock, pop, or classical music, there are endless possibilities to infuse your baby shower with musical elements. Here’s a comprehensive guide to planning and decorating a music-themed baby shower that will hit all the right notes.

Make your baby shower event more special and amazing by selecting the best baby shower themes from Take Rent Pe — an online supplier providing decoration setups on rent. With more than 100+ décor set ideas, pick your ones and let the team do the whole event management for you.

Rock-Inspired Baby Shower Decor

For rock music lovers, a rock-inspired baby shower can be a thrilling theme. Start with the invitations by designing concert ticket-style invites to set the tone. Use black, red, and silver as your primary colors for the decorations.

Stage Setup: Create a mini stage area with a backdrop resembling a concert stage. Use a "Rockstar Baby" banner and inflatable guitars and microphones as props. This setup can also double as a photo booth for guests.

Table Decor: Use vinyl records as placemats or centerpieces. Scatter some guitar picks and small drumsticks around the tables for added flair. For the tablecloths, consider using bandana prints or black tablecloths with red accents.

Cake and Snacks: Have a cake shaped like a guitar or decorated with music notes. Rock-themed cupcakes with edible guitar toppers can add to the theme. Serve snacks in bowls labeled with fun rock music references.

Games and Activities: Organize a karaoke session or a "Name That Tune" game with classic rock songs. Provide temporary tattoos with rock band logos for guests to wear during the party.

Transform your venue with rock-inspired baby shower decoration to create an unforgettable experience for the parents-to-be and their guests.

Pop Music-Themed Baby Shower Decor

Pop music brings a fun and vibrant energy, perfect for a baby shower. With bright colors and playful elements, you can create a lively atmosphere.

Color Scheme: Use bright and bold colors such as pink, yellow, and blue. Balloons, streamers, and banners in these colors can liven up the space.

Photo Booth: Set up a photo booth with a glittery backdrop and pop star props like oversized sunglasses, microphones, and wigs. A banner that says "Pop Star Baby" can be the finishing touch.

Table Settings: Use colorful tablecloths and napkins. Centerpieces can include popcorn buckets filled with flowers or candy. Sprinkle some confetti shaped like music notes or stars on the tables.

Desserts: Create a dessert table with pop-themed treats like cake pops, candy, and cupcakes with musical note toppers. A cake with a microphone or star design can be the centerpiece.

Activities: Organize a dance-off or a lip-sync battle. Play popular songs and let guests have fun showing off their moves.

Incorporate pop music elements into your seemantham decoration to bring a modern twist to traditional celebrations.

Classical Music-Inspired Baby Shower Decor

For those who appreciate the timeless elegance of classical music, a classical music-themed seemantham decoration can be both sophisticated and enchanting.

Elegant Invitations: Send out invitations adorned with musical notes and classical instrument illustrations, such as violins and pianos.

Decorative Elements: Choose a color palette of gold, white, and pastel shades. Use elegant drapes and classical music sheet prints as part of the decor. Hang garlands of musical notes and use candle holders shaped like musical instruments.

Table Decor: Opt for lace tablecloths and fine china. Use centerpieces featuring flowers in teapots or vases shaped like musical instruments. Scatter faux pearls and classical music sheet confetti on the tables.

Cakes and Sweets: A cake designed to look like a grand piano or decorated with musical notes and elegant swirls can be a stunning centerpiece. Serve delicacies such as macarons, petit fours, and chocolate truffles.

Entertainment: Hire a string quartet or a solo pianist to play classical music throughout the event. Organize a trivia quiz on famous classical composers and pieces.

Add a touch of elegance to your godh bharai decoration with classical music-inspired elements, creating a serene and sophisticated ambiance.

Combining All Three Themes

If you can't decide on just one genre, why not incorporate elements from all three? Here are some tips on blending rock, pop, and classical themes seamlessly:

Invitations: Create a mixed playlist-themed invitation, featuring elements from rock, pop, and classical music.

Decorative Zones: Divide the venue into different zones, each representing a different music genre. For example, have a rock zone with guitars and dark colors, a pop zone with bright and playful decor, and a classical zone with elegant, timeless decorations.

Music and Activities: Curate a playlist that includes rock, pop, and classical music. Plan activities that cater to all music tastes, such as a mix of karaoke, dance-offs, and classical music trivia.

Food and Drinks: Create a diverse menu with themed snacks and beverages for each genre. Rock-themed snacks could include "rock" candy and nachos, pop-themed treats might feature cake pops and colorful candies, while classical music-inspired foods could include elegant hors d'oeuvres and fine pastries.

Mix and match different musical styles to create a unique and personalized baby shower decoration that reflects the parents' diverse tastes in music.

Conclusion

A music-themed godh bharai decoration can be a delightful and memorable way to celebrate the upcoming arrival of a new baby. Whether you choose to focus on rock, pop, classical music, or a blend of all three, the key is in the details and the creative use of decorations to bring your theme to life. By incorporating personalized touches and ensuring the decorations reflect the musical preferences of the parents-to-be, you'll create an event that resonates with everyone in attendance.

Remember, the right baby shower decoration can transform any space into a celebration of music and joy. Don't hesitate to explore and combine different musical elements to create a truly one-of-a-kind event. Whether it's through seemantham decoration or godh bharai decoration, infusing musical themes can make the baby shower a hit among guests and a cherished memory for the parents-to-be.

#baby shower decoration #seemantham decoration #godh bharai decoration #event #event planner

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gabigirl · 2 years

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Byler Tag Chaos

July 23: Heart eyes in the van scene

July 26: Talk about the “Romeo” and Romeo & Juliet milkvan parallels / Announcement that we’re getting the s4ep8 8flix script

July 27: Confirmation from the Duffers that lighting is intentional

July 29: Theories/jokes that Noah is vibrantwaters

July 30: Noah panel, “Mike LIKES El”

August 2: The writers starting ST5!

August 4: “A fair amount of subtext, yes.” -Nick, 8flix

August 5: Chaos without getting the script

August 6: Script snippet, “I hate who I am”

August 9: The script is fake

August 10: Poll on Twitter for which scene we want / Slim Jim is a Byler

August 11: Sock anon / Rumor that the Duffers confirmed blue & yellow...only for it to be fake / Van scene won the poll / More Slim Jim tweets

August 13: We hit 100k!

August 15: We got the van scene script

August 16: Fake Duffer account / The Google Doodle looked like baby Byler

August 17: Bald Mike Wheeler cult

August 18: People trapped in the Duffers’ basement / Stephanie Mike Cult

August 19: Scriptgate 2.0 & Nick hacked

August 20: Scriptgate involving 2 cast members / Frog Mike cult

August 21: Escape from the Duffers’ basement

August 22: Russian code fully cracked on Twitter

August 24: Trend with the Cristiano Ronaldo gif / Barista anon

August 25: Grid stage in the writers’ room

August 26: Mikhailgate / Final scene script released

August 27: Mikely Cyrus cult

August 28: Finn panel

August 30: Mike Bush cult / Twilight Gate

August 31: Breaking Bad gate

September 1: Spirkgate

September 2: Lumax drawing scene script released, “his/her breath catches” / Steve & Robin in the car scene script released

September 5: Sweater Byler vs. Apocalypse Byler anon

September 6: Background guy gate

September 7: Byler disease / Cucaracha Cult / Mike’s monologue back in the poll…and losing

September 9: Jonathan & Will’s talk script released

September 10: Birthdaygate resurgence / White Rabbit Gate

September 11: Descendants Gate

September 13: Stranger Writers stopping script releases after this next one / byler cake anon asking about pop tarts!

September 16: Episode 4 Byler talk script released

September 17: Mike cat memes

September 20: Flickergate / Pixalized Grid aka Gridgate

September 21: The Byers’ house being sold irl

September 23: “Byler is canon.” -Ted Wheeler / the black spot on the board is a pen holder

September 24: Stranger Things Tudum Event

September 26: Most of the character Spotify playlists deleted

September 27: Mike plagiarized Eddie’s episode 1 monologue for his monologue to El

October 4: Salt Lamp Gate

October 9: Mike Wheeler babygirlification

October 12: “Crazy shit that almost happened #…”

October 27: Mikey mouse

October 31: Bald Duffer gate

November 6: Stranger Things day / pictures of the (hopefully) endgame couples on Twitter / painting merch /Vecna VR / “The Crawl”

December 9: More Scriptgate

December 10: Noah talking about Finn on live

December 22: Santa slander

January 5: Noah came out

January 13 (Fri the 13): AO3 down

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comeandreadawhile · 4 years

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Clone Social Media : Hobbies

The phenomenon starts with the intention to show the civilians of the Republic the men behind the armor, as well as an encouragement for the men to do the things they enjoy when they have the time to in lieu of sitting around cleaning weapons for a third time that day.

Scratch that—the phenomenon starts with High General Kenobi, on a rare day of leave, teaching his Marshal Commander how to bake. Said Commander’s men were happy to taste test the flurry of experimental confections that pervaded their leave days in the following months. News spread fast of Marshal Commander Cody having a knack for baking, and so followed the spread of troopers attempting to make their own treats and/or branching off into other things the civilians called “hobbies” whenever what they could get their hands on afforded them.

The phenomenon kicked off when Padawan Commander Tano began a social media account with the intention of using it as a public diary, her first post was a picture taken of some of the 501st—with permission, her caption says—as they went about retouching paint scuffed in their most recent battle. The men are relaxed, some with paint smeared on their hands and cheeks and seemingly reacting to some joke or story told outside the threshold of the camera, and it’s an almost startling difference from the image of rigid lines of men, faceless in their full kits of white plastoid, that the civilians are used to. Tano’s second post is a video clip of one Captain Rex, with one General Skywalker sitting on his back counting reps, doing push-ups; the video was captioned “Another day in the G.A.R., restless in hyperspace.”

The digital diary continues from there, videos and pictures of specific locations posted only after reaching a safe distance to do so, never sharing anything mission critical—past, current, or hypothetical future. Eventually she shows the men under her how to make their own accounts, and other Jedi and their own troops follow suit. The 212th then takes it upon themselves to post pictures of the little cakes their Marshal Commander has gotten so proficient at making, and, when General Kenobi creates a joint account titled “command_212”, convince Cody to post pictures of things he bakes before they are distributed—even in the process of baking, if the fancy strikes him.

So Marshal Commander Cody shares pictures of his experiments, of recipes he finds that turned out well, of recipes that didn’t because of some error or other that he’s determined to give another go, with the occasional cryptid picture of General Kenobi taking his tea in the barrack’s kitchen. As time goes on those pictures shift to Obi-Wan covered in flour, or a shot taken from several feet away of Cody sneaking batter captioned “caught red-handed in the red velvet”.

As Marshal Commander of the 212th has taken to baking to relieve stress, the Commander of the 104th has turned to needlecraft and yarnwork.

The 104th retaliate the populatrity of the 212th’s command account with the domesticity of their own, despite the vaguely threatening possibilities of knitting and sewing needles. Boost and Sinker run the majority of the account, although all OG members of the 104th have access to it; they post pictures of the things Wolffe makes them, of General Plo covered in the lengths of scarves he’s received, of Comet in the ever-growing swath the gifted blankets with the current tally in the caption (his toes were off the floor by blanket burrito 6). The holonet at large loves Plo almost as much as his men, and once a week they post him saying some piece of sage wisdom—or utter nonsense, as the mood strikes—as the war goes on. After months of asking for a face reveal and requests for the patterns people are sure Wolffe uses, they make the most Force-forsaken tutorial videos as an all-in-one series.

“HOLY **** HE’S CASTING ON 12 TO START—“ “WHAT A MAD MAN!”

“So when you get to this row here you’re going to knit 3, purl 3–“ “TRANSCENDENT!” “—yes, thank you, and then keep doing that until you reach the end of the row...”

“Oh, OH MAN HE’S GONNA DO IT!” “HE’S GONNA CHANGE COLORS!” “Holy **** man he’s gonNA YOOOOOOOOOO!”

Cody is then issued a challenge by the holonet to learn to knit. He learns to crochet. Because Obi-Wan knows how to crochet. The holonet loves video snippets of them progressing on projects together. They also love the videos Ahsoka posts of Cody attempting to teach Rex, and praise the absolutely completely unrelated hat she later posts a picture of; it covers her Montrals with enough room for a few years’ growth. Anakin gets yarn stuck in his mechanical hand because he forgot to put his glove on before attempting to craft.

The real throwdown happens when the account for the Coruscant Guard posts videos of Fox aggressively tatting while venting about the lack of funding for proper security and surveillance tech.

Each posts sees a comical increase in the surfaces covered in lace doilies and runners, as well as a new topic for Fox’s venting.

A picture of an pillow embroidered with “Kriff the Seppies” is briefly posted to the 104th’s account before being taken down and replaced with a censor bar. Rumors begin to circulate when Senator Chuchi posts a picture wearing a gifted lace shawl; Senator Amidala comments on her confusion being resolved as to why Riyo kept bringing little baskets of crochet thread with her before a senate meetings.

A competition for ship nose art starts up, many votes going to the 501st, and the holonet’s heart once again melting at “Plo’s Bros”. Personal art begins popping up soon after. Fives starts posting spray paint tutorials, Rex and Hardcase become popular for clean graphic art. Bly gets his hands on metallic paint and the crowds go wild. Kix has taken his clean haircut game to the next level.

And then Colt and Shaak Ti make an account to post art the Littles make, most of them representations of their older brothers with wishes of safety and good luck, and of the only Jedi they’ve ever known, sometimes creatures they studied in their preparation for worlds outside of Kamino. Of batches passing their final tests with a congratulatory post.

Suggestions and instructions are sent out for clones who want to take and sell commissions, allowing them to finally make some money; most Jedi are more than happy to help make sure the finished work mails out properly to the buyers.

Ships of the non-nose art kind surface on the holonet. It’s generally agreed upon that command_212 is run by husbands, and Aayla is the protector of the 327th and Bly’s heart, even if she’s a clumsy menace around his artwork (caf spilled over a drying watercolor can be interesting or terrible depending on the circumstance). No one can agree whether Skywalker is married to his captain or Senator Amidala, but everyone agrees that Ahsoka is their baby. The holonet declares Plo to have Big Dad Energy. Shaak Ti’s Big Mom Energy is a friendly rival. The Jedi council has made no official statement denying or denouncing these attachments.

Public interest begins to shift from producing more soldiers to making sure the ones the Republic has stay alive, when the realization hits that within a couple of years the children posting art and losing teeth would probably be losing blood and brothers on some far away planet. Of making sure the men are eating well instead of just surviving. Well certain account-holders don’t post for a while, grieving a loss, posting again to reassure their followers they’re alright, the public questions what’s being done to keep the men emotionally and mentally well outside of the hobbies the public knows them for. “Born to handle any stress” is very much the wrong answer.

Pressure is put on the Chancellor to let the Separatists sucede, no one quite sure anymore why allowing them to would be harmful when at worst new trade agreements would need to be brokered; if they want to leave so badly, let them. And let the men have their hobbies.

(Sad thoughts ahead)

Sometimes commissioners never receive their orders, simply a refund with a letter from that clone’s Jedi after the latest battle ends. Any money they’d made would be split however their closest brothers decide.

The channel that always posts pranks and spray paint tutorials makes a post saying they’d be away to look after their sick little brother. It’s the last post they make.

The Coruscant Guard’s account stops posting a few nights later.

After Order 66 goes out, a new account goes up posting any pictures and cute videos of Aayla. Reposting old ones that the public is sure they’d seen somewhere before, posting new ones of funny faces and ridiculous videos of silly dances. The last one is the only one captioned, “she wasn’t a traitor.”

The account is deleted the same night, and the one of the 327th’s adventures never posts again.

Wolfpack_104 does not post, but is still there.

Command_212 is deleted almost immediately the night of the order.

Years go by, almost sixteen, and only after Vader already knows she’s alive does Ahsoka post again. It’s a picture of her, and Rex and Wolffe onboard the Ghost in hyperspace captioned “Was never a traitor. Always the little sister even if I’m four years older. In case you’re wondering, Rex still draws and Wolffe still knits when we can nab the string and flimsi.”

#star wars #the clone wars #codywan #blyla #implied #foxiyo #rexwalker #commander cody #captain rex #commander wolffe #commander bly #commander colt #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #plo koon #shaak ti

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ptergwen · 4 years

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positions

w/c: 2k

warnings: smut but there’s fluff toooo

a/n: literally based this whole os off positions by ariana bc if y’all didn’t know i love her and the song came out yesterday it’s so so good go stream and YEAH everyone enjoy

“it’s been so lovely to meet you, y/n.” nikki gives you a warm smile and reaches over tom to put a hand on your arm. tom squeezes your side from his spot next to you. he’s sitting between the two most important women in his life. leaning into him more, you return the smile.

“you, too. i’m really happy we could do this,” you agree. “tom’s a lucky guy, eh?” she raises an eyebrow. “i am. almost as lucky as dad.” he beams and kisses the side of your head. your nose scrunches up. “oh, you two. do you really have to go so soon?” you look at tom to confirm. “don’t you have a call in the morning?” considering it for a second, he shrugs. “we can stay another hour.”

nikki pats your arm and shifts her gaze to tom. “why don’t you spend the night? you do have a room and wifi here.” now he’s looking at you to see what you think. you smile a little in response. “sure, mum. that would be perfect.” she nods, proud of her idea. “should we make that dessert i was talking about, then?”

tom sits at the kitchen table while you and nikki do the baking. you’re using a cake recipe she got from one of her friends. all three of you figured he’d end up burning it. she tells you stories from when tom was a kid, and he interjects whenever something embarrassing comes up. you can’t help but giggle about the time he fell off the stage during a school play.

“and he was in a tree costume. his head got stuck in the trunk hole,” nikki nudges you, both of you laughing. tom hides his face in his hands. “it was hard! you try dancing in one of those things.” “aw, tom. maybe no one noticed.” you crack an egg into the bowl with a snort. he sighs. “they had to stop the show.”

the cake is in the oven four embarrassing stories later. you were going to help nikki clean up, but she insisted you go relax. she almost had to push you out of the kitchen. the woman is a saint honestly, and now you see where tom gets it from. the two of you are back on the couch while she does the dishes.

“thanks for coming tonight. it means a lot to me.” tom leans his head against yours, which is resting on his shoulder. “and mum.” “of course. i wanted to, you know.” you nuzzle your cheek against him. he lets out a breath and grins. “she really likes you. loves you, even.” a smile pulls at your lips. “really?”

“mhm. she wouldn’t have asked you to stay if she didn’t.” his fingers trace random shapes on your thigh. you hum in content. “we would’ve been kicked out by now.” “it’s technically your house still,” you deadpan, but it’s lighthearted. “mm, but we have ours.” that makes you feel so soft and warm. you’re just so in love with him. he’s even more in love with you.

you tilt your head up to peck tom’s lips. he gives you another kiss back. “i love you.” “i love you, too,” he murmurs. he’s about to go in for a proper kiss when nikki peeks her head out from behind the wall. she looks between you both knowingly. “cake’s done.”

the three of you head back to the kitchen together. tom takes the seat the farthest away from everyone this time. he’s a little embarrassed his mom almost saw that. he looks you up and down when you bend over to take the cake out of the oven. feeling his eyes on you, you glance over your shoulder when you stand up. he licks his lips. you bite back a smile and put the pan down on the counter.

“sorry if i interrupted anything,” nikki jokes and starts to get the cake out of the pan. “no, you didn’t. it’s okay.” you’re still looking at tom. you reach up and get the icing out of one of the cabinets, then a spatula from a holder on the counter. the fact that you already know where everything is makes tom get blushy. a good blushy.

the cake is on the cooling rack, so you open up the icing. nikki moves over to give you more room. “we should add some sprinkles, yeah?” she puts a hand on your shoulder. “tom, what do you think?” you noticed he’s been unusually quiet. he clears his throat. “yeah, sounds good.” “alright, then. let’s see if we have them.” nikki goes back into the cabinet you were in.

you get a generous amount of icing on the spatula, then start spreading it around the cake. it’s chocolate. everyone knows what that does. tom can’t stop thinking about how perfect you are while he watches. with nikki, with him, with all of this. he uses that word a lot. perfect. but, he actually means it now. you’re the human embodiment of it.

you’re almost finished with the icing when nikki puts down two different kinds of sprinkles. she found rainbow and the white ones that look like crystals. you put down the tub of icing with a smile. “i’ve got this, love,” she tells you and nods her head to tom. making eye contact with him, you lick what’s left of the icing off the spatula. his eyes are hooded now. you put the spatula in the sink and sit next to him at the table.

“tease,” he says lowly to you, putting an arm around the back of your chair. “you do it to me all the time.” you shift closer to him. he only shakes his head. nikki brings over the cake and a knife balanced on three plates a few minutes later. “who’s hungry?” “me,” you’re the first to answer. tom laughs and takes the knife to cut the cake. “thanks, mum. and y/n.” you put an arm around his neck. “you’re very welcome.”

everyone stays downstairs for two pieces and some small talk. you decide to put everything away in the morning since it’s getting late and tom has to be up. the two of you say goodnight to nikki, then tom leads you upstairs to his old room.

neither of you have to say anything to know exactly what you want. you press your lips to tom’s the second he closes the door, grabbing at his shoulders. he kisses back while walking backwards to the bed. he sits and pulls down you by your waist. your legs are on either side of him. you pull away to catch your breath, resting your forehead against tom’s.

“you were so good tonight, baby,” tom pants, fingers gripping your sides. you start to undo his shirt button by button with a smirk. “i’m not done yet.” he chuckles into your next kiss, shrugging off his shirt. you toss it on the floor and push at his bare chest so he’s laying down. you’re straddling him now, your tongue running across his lower lip. he unzips the dress you decided to wear while your lips trail off to his neck.

“wanna get this off,” he rasps, sliding the straps down your shoulders. you hum against his skin in response and sit up again. the vibrations make him feel tingly. your dress is thrown across the room shortly after. tom runs a finger down your back, his swollen lips curling into a smile. “love you.” “love you more.” you’re about to show him you mean it.

his hand comes around to your front as you unzip his jeans. he rubs your hip, your thigh, almost right where you need him, then he stops. he’s getting you back for earlier. you let out a breath and roll off of him so he can get out of his jeans. he eyes you and takes his boxers off next to speed up the process.

“c’mere.” you’re quick to get back on top of him. you can feel him through your panties as you straddle him. that only makes you more needy. he pulls your panties to the side and uses his middle finger to circle your clit. it’s good, but it’s not enough. “tom,” you breathe out. “i know, i know.”

he easily tugs your panties down, and you move so you’re lined up with him. you reach down and pump his dick in your hand. he presses a long kiss to your cheek. you can feel his breath fanning across your face. you run his dick through your folds to get both of you ready. biting down on your lip, you put your free hand on his chest.

he lets out a low moan when you start to sink down on him. you let him fill you up, taking your time to get there. more quiet noises escape him when he’s completely inside of you. squeezing your eyes shut, you move on him. you go slow at first, both of you feeling every little movement.

tom’s hands hold your hips to guide you. he brings you back down again. your moan is muffled as you let him move you faster. “shit, baby,” he exhales and pulls you forward. it makes him hit a new spot inside of you. you’re bouncing on him now, grabbing onto his shoulders again for support.

“fuck,” you murmur as quietly as you can so you’re not heard downstairs. tom unclasps your bra while you ride him, trying to distract himself so he doesn’t give you two away. he can’t take it off you because of the position you’re in. he pushes it up instead so your boobs are out of it, both hands cupping them. “closer, darling.”

you lean down more so he can reach you. he massages one and takes the other into his mouth. your head is thrown back while his tongue runs over your nipple. between this and the way he feels inside you, it’s so hard not to scream his name right now.

“tom... tom you’re gonna make me-“ you whimper, gulping before you can finish your sentence. he pulls his mouth off of you with a pop and kisses your lips to shut both of you up. keeping the same pace, you kiss him back. it’s messy and breathless. you’re getting close already. you’d normally go on way longer, but he has that stupid meeting.

it only takes you a few more bounces until you get that familiar feeling in your stomach. tom’s firm grip on your hips steadies you while you come. “doing so good. keep going,” he praises, your orgasm making your walls clench around him. you let out a small moan, tom breathing heavier from the feeling. you’re not moving anymore, but it’s enough to have him coming soon after you.

your head dropping onto his stomach, you climb off of him. tom presses his lips to your hair softly and moves his hands up to your waist. “really like when you’re on top.” his voice is raspy. you’re still trying to catch your breath, but you manage a kiss to his chest. “me too. it’s really... nice.” “nice?” he teases.

“stop, i can’t think right now,” you mumble to him. you’ve rolled over so you’re by his side. you have your head laying on his chest. his curls brush your face when he leans over to peck your lips. “i figured. tonight was a good night, hm?” “mhm. we should do it again.” your fingers ruffle his hair.

“what, the sex? or dessert with my mum?” he cringes at how that comes out. you giggle and twirl a piece of his hair. “both. wow, today was a lot.” tom squishes his cheek into the pillow more. “i could fall asleep like this.” “nope, you have to get ready for bed. your call is soon.” you poke at his chest and move over so you’re not on him anymore. he sits himself up with a chuckle.

“you switch up fast.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker smut

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yungidreamer · 4 years

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Fatherhood Seonghwa

There is a small chance I will do this with other members, but let’s see.

Summary: Seonghwa and his wife decide to try for kids, something they both have always wanted. The news they have a baby on the way is almost the happiest moment of his life, along with all the experiences to follow.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Content warnings: like 80% fluff, 20% smut. Very adoring relationship that follows them having a baby and the adventure that is. Pregnant sex, emotional sex, lots of sentimentality.

taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @ateez-angel @little-precious-baby @choisans-dimples @twancingyunhoe

Music: To Build a Home by The Cinematic Orchestra and Cinnamon by Jome

They had started trying a few months ago and she had never expected to see the second line on the test so soon. Excitement and nerves flooded her as she looked at the little plastic stick. She had thought they would have a little more time, though she couldn’t think of what they would have needed it for. Seonghwa had been making plans since they first discussed trying. Plans for the babies room, plans for names, plans for clothes and accessories, and had even spent hours online already looking at strollers, cribs, toys, swings, and gliding rockers. Every day he came home with another plan or idea that had popped into his head during the day, a bright sparkle in his eyes as he told her all about it.

Part of her wanted to just snap a picture and send it to him right away, but she didn’t want to miss seeing his reaction. It was sure to be priceless, so instead she went to find a little box she could wrap up and give him as a surprise over dessert tonight. They needed to have something special, but she couldn’t let him know until the time was right.

“You ordered dinner for us tonight?” Hwa noted as he came in after work.

“I wanted to have my favorite meal tonight,” she answered, coming up to give him his hello kiss. “I was just hoping you wouldn’t be late today. The pancakes aren’t as good when you have to heat them up again.”

“You could have told me and I would have been sure to be home on time,” he scolded gently, his hand resting on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged. “If there was something important… I could have waited.”

“Next time tell me,” he insisted. “Then I can at least let you know if something has come up so you aren’t just waiting on me.”

“But I didn’t have to wait,” she pointed out.

“I just want to know, love,” he pressed a kiss to her temple before brushing past to change before dinner. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right there.”

She nodded and walked to the kitchen to check on the two little cakes in the fridge at the same time she got drinks for the both of them to go with dinner. Hopefully he wouldn’t come poking around in there. If he saw them, she thought he might start suspecting something was up.

Setting a plate and a drink for each of them on the coffee table, she wrapped herself in the throw on the couch and turned on a little something for them to watch while they ate. Seonghwa quickly returned, now dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, and cuddled in beside her, plate on his lap. She couldn’t keep her hand from pressing against her stomach now and again as she ate small bites of the kimchi pancakes tucked in against his side.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, having noted that she was pecking at her food more than eating it.

“Yes, just taking my time,” she shook her head, making a special effort to take a bigger bite.

“You aren’t dieting are you?” He turned to look at her, setting his plate to the side. “If we’re trying, now isn’t the time to be trying to lose weight, my love. Do you want to take a walk after dinner?”

“No, no, I mean, we can, but I’m not trying to be careful about eating,” with a sigh she set her own half finished plate down and started to get up. “I’m just nervous. Look I got us something special for after dinner and everything.” She pointed out as she headed to the kitchen to get the two little strawberry shortcakes… and the little ‘gift’ she had wrapped for him. Seonghwa stood up, following his wife into the kitchen to see what she was upto.

“Grab a couple of small plates for me?” She asked as she opened the refrigerator door.

“Little forks too?” The question was spoken over the slight clang of dishes hitting each other and then the counter.

“Yes please,” she agreed, carefully removing the box from the shelf. “Can you make a couple of coffees as well?”

“Of course,” he agreed, happily pulling a couple of mugs from the cabinet. Transferring the cakes to the little plates, she took them out to the coffee table, tucking the present in the folds of the blanket as she waited for him to come with the hot, coffee filled mugs.

Seonghwa emerged from the kitchen, a broad grin on his face as his eyes landed on the red and white dessert. He loved how loving and thoughtful she was, always happy to make a special effort...just because, and he loved it.

“Thank you, jagiya,” he kissed her cheek, holding the little plate in his lap. “I love strawberries.”

“I know,” she giggled, loving the tickle of his breath against her ear. “I wanted to talk to you about something, though.”

“Is it about trying?” He questioned, stiffening slightly in his seat, a flutter of nerves filling his stomach. “Are not ready? We can wait if you aren’t--”

“No, wait… are you not ready?” A quick jolt of worry when through her at how quick he was to talk about waiting.

“No, I just thought, maybe you weren’t,” he soothed. “And as much as I want to have a baby with you, I want us both to be really ready for it. It would be okay, if you weren’t yet. I can wait for you.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, grasping the little box in her hand as she began. “You don’t have to wait.” Handing him the box, she bit her lip as she watched his hand take it, a little questioning look flitting across his face. Flipping it over, he carefully tore open the wrapping paper before lifting the lid off the box. It took him a second to recognise what lay on the puffy cotton lining but when it hit him, an expression of absolute delight came across his face. His jaw dropped and he pulled the test out, looking closely at the little window.

“Two lines mean baby?” He asked, letting the box drop to the floor.

“Yes,” she nodded with a bright smile.

“We did it?” He asked, his eyes flitting between her face and the test. Giving him a confirming nod, she took the test and put it on the table with their deserts. Emotions burst through Seonghwa like a flood. He didn’t think he had ever felt joy like that before in his life. Tears obscured his vision as he leaned forward to bring his lips to hers in a kiss of pure happiness. A thousand thoughts went through his mind in a jumble of questions and plans, hopes and dreams.

“There is so much I have to do,” he gave a watery chuckle, kissing her eyelids as he pulled her into his lap. “We need to paint the baby’s room soon so the paint isn’t too fresh when the baby comes home. And furniture. It will need somewhere to sleep, unless we are co-sleeping? Even if we are, the baby will still need a crib for naps. What about maternity clothes? Should we go shopping--”

“Aein, let’s just be excited for tonight,” she laughed sweetly. “We can plan tomorrow. For today, just kiss me?”

“Forever,” he promised, framing her face as he took her lips in a celebratory kiss.

“Hwa, can you loosen your grip a little,” she asked as she lay on the exam table for their first ultrasound.

“Sorry,” he gave her a chasened smile. “I’m just so excited. I want to meet our little bean. It doesn’t feel real yet even though I know it's in there.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking down toward her belly. “What if the test was wrong? What if it’s not there when they check?”

“It will be,” his voice was full of confidence as he smiled down at her. “And if it isn’t then we get to keep trying. I’ve enjoyed that part too.”

“Hush,” she snapped quickly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “What if the doctor came in?”

“Then they would know how madly in love with my wife I am.” He gave a shy smile and rubbed her hand between both of his, letting out just a little of his nervous energy. She just shook her head and let it fall back onto the paper covered pillow. In only a few more moments the door opened again and a neatly dressed middle-aged woman came in dressed in cheery yellow scrubs.

“Hello everyone,” she smiled down at them both, making her way over to the other side of the exam table. “This is your first visit with us, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Seonghwa said from beside his wife. “Will we be able to see much this time?”

“Well lets see,” the nurse gave him a patient look. “First thing I need is for you to lift your shirt and tuck this in to keep the gel from getting on it. And then we will undo your jeans a little and put this towel over your lap to keep those clean as well.” She nodded, taking her shirt up and tucking the towel in over it as the nurse lowered the waistband of her jeans and tucked a second towel in around her hips. “Very good. Let me grab the gel from the warmer and we can get a little on your tummy so we can see baby more clearly.” She turned and pulled a large bottle from a holder on the wall. Putting a generous blob onto the now bare tummy of the mother to be, the nurse picked up the sensor of the ultrasound and began her examination.

Seonghwa leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen filled with smudges of grays that went from almost black to almost white. He practically held his breath as he waited to see something, though he wasn’t sure what he was really looking for.

“There we are,” the nurse said, looking at the screen.

“There what is?” He asked, seeing only a black blob on the screen.

“Right here,” she pointed at a small spot inside the black blob. “Do you see that little flutter? That is baby’s heartbeat.”

“That’s it?” He stood up to lean closer, as if getting nearer the screen would make it clearer.

“That’s it,” the nurse chuckled. “I know it is hard to see and it doesn’t quite look like a baby just yet, but it is there and the heartbeat looks good.”

“It’s okay? It’s really there?” She asked, eyes glued to the same place as her husband’s.

“Everything looks wonderful,” the nurse confirmed, handing a tissue to Seonghwa to wipe away the silent, happy tears that were rolling down his cheeks.

“Okay, do we want it to be cherry or black?” Seonghwa asked as he looked at the baby furniture set they had chosen on the website.

“I like the cherry better,” she replied, biting her bottom lip. “I know you like neutrals and all, but I want the baby’s space to have some color and warmth.”

“What about the wall color?” He turned to look at her directly, pulling her against him as he looked up into her face. “We don’t know if it's a boy or girl yet. Are we going to wait to know before we pick colors?”

“I was thinking… I don’t want to know,” she told him nervously. “I think I want it to be a surprise.”

“You don’t want to know?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “What about baby clothes and toys?”

“Well there are plenty of clothes that work for both and I was thinking of a mint color for the walls of the room,” she looked at him, cupping his cheek as she looked into his questioning gaze.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Warm natural shades for our little whoever. What about a theme? Maybe make it like a secret garden? Plants and butterflies and flowers?”

“I like it,” she grinned. “Someplace relaxing and welcoming to take care of baby.”

“Good, cherry it is then,” he leaned his head against her chest, taking a moment to listen to the sweet sound of her heartbeat.

“Can we get some netting to put around the cradle?” She suggested. “We can put some flowers and stuff on it rather than a mobile.”

“I love the idea,” he giggled. “What about daisies and those little black and white butterflies? I could dangle some with fishing line so they look like they are floating?”

“Oh I love it,” she gave a happy sigh. “The room has so much light. Let’s hang crystals in the window, get rainbows sparkling on the walls.”

“Rainbows all over,” he chuckled. “And a little moon nightlight.”

“Thank you for indulging me,” she said gratefully.

“Indulging you? No, jagiya,” he beamed. “I love the idea of our baby growing up in a safe little garden surrounded by rainbows and butterflies.”

“Yeah?” She kissed the tip of his nose.

“A little garden for our little fae,” He nuzzled, lifting his lips to hers. “Our baby is going to be so beautiful, just like their mommy.”

“You mean like daddy,” she corrected with a chortle.

“No love,” he shook his head. “You always take my breath away, my love. If we have a baby that has your face, I would consider them to be so lucky.” Unable to think of something to say to that, she settled for pulling his face to hers, giving him a warm, sweet kiss.

“Did you know little Hyunjin is the size of a mango right now?” Hwa asked, not looking up from the book he was reading from beside her on the couch.

“A mango huh?” She asked, splaying a hand on her sweater covered bump. “Actually that sounds really good right now. I don’t suppose we have any, do we?”

“Mango? No but I can run to the store,” he let the book close and started to stand up.

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she waved at him to come back and sit with her on the couch again. “It’s just a whim. I’m not even that hungry at the moment.”

“But you are hungry,” he said, moving to go into the kitchen. “Fruit? I think we have some, let me see what we have,”

“No—” she started before giving up as he disappeared into the kitchen. “I don’t need to eat anything at this point. I already feel like a whale.”

“What was that, babe?” He asked, carrying a bowl stacked high with fruit.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I’m just… not that hungry at the moment.”

“But our Hyunnie needs plenty of energy to grow big and strong,” he coaxed gently. “Grapes for my babies?” Seonghwa held a couple up near her mouth and made little om-nom-nom sounds at her.

“I don’t know that I want to eat,” she sighed tiredly. “I feel… gross.” She cringed at her own words.

“Gross?” He sat up ramrod straight and looked down at her slumped figure.

“You don’t have to say I’m pretty or something,” she huffed, slouching down into the couch even more. “I know it’s hormones and stuff but I don’t like feeling like I am huge and bumping out in all the wrong places.”

“Wrong places,” he sputtered, placing the bowl of fruit on the table.

“Forget I said anything,” she sighed, pulling herself into a sitting position. “Just hand me the fruit. I’ll eat.”

“Um-mmm, no love,” he shook his head, hooking a finger under her chin to bring her eyes up to his. “Don’t I tell you every day how pretty you are so sweet and round with our baby?”

“Yes, but you have to say that,” she shook her head and looked away.

“I have to because it’s true,” he assured her, pulling her to sit in his lap. “Every time I look at you my heart swells with gratitude and pride that you are carrying my baby. I look at you and I fall in love over and over. If I woke up tomorrow and didn’t know who I was, my heart would still know you, my love for you is so deep.”

“I know you love me,” she shrugged. “But I don’t think you find me pretty like you used to. I know I don’t.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, picking her up to carry her to their bedroom. “You’re even more beautiful to me now.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she shook her head as she clung tightly to his shoulders. “And you don’t have to carry me. I know I’ve gotten heavy.”

“Shush, you are light as a feather, my love,” he said as he stepped confidently through the hallway and into their room. Laying her on the soft duvet as close to the center of the bed as he could manage, he turned on the string of lights that wrapped around the top frame of the four poster bed, bathing them both in their soft, warm glow. “I’m an idiot to have let you feel like you are anything but a goddess like this.”

“Look at me,” she huffed and hid her face behind her hands. “My hips have gotten huge, I have all these stretch marks, my boobs don’t fit in my bra right, my thighs are bumpy, and look at how my arms even jiggle.”

“Your boobs have grown,” he agreed, giving a thumbs up and giving an approving wink and click of his tongue. “More to fill my hands.” Reaching out, he gently cupped them with his elegant fingers. “And the stretch marks, I’ll never be able to see them without feeling so much gratitude for how you got them. You’re like magic; growing a whole new person inside you.”

“It doesn’t make them any prettier,” she shook her head.

“They are pretty to me,” he soothed. “Let me look at you, my love. It’s been a little while hasn’t it? I’ve been so worried about not making you uncomfortable with my wants, I made you think I didn’t have them. Let me show you how much I still want you.”

“You don’t have to make a big show of it just because I feel ugly,” she gave him a half smile.

“It’s not a show,” he insisted, guiding one of her hands to come and rest on the erection confined in his slacks. “I want my beautiful wife. I want to hold her and feel her around me again. It’s been too long.”

“Not just to make me feel better?” She made him promise. “You really want me?”

“So fucking much,” Seonghwa stretched out beside her, turning her hopefilled face to him. Closing his eyes he pressed his lips to hers and took a moment to feel the brush of their softness against his own, feeling a sweet pang course though him. The soft whimpering sound she made when his hand slid down from her face to graze along the side of her neck undid him and he found himself groping clumsily to remove their clothes like he was a bumbling teenager all over again.

As quickly as he could manage, and with far less grace than he had hoped, Seonghwa pulled off both of their clothes, leaving them as physically naked as their emotions were. He had been holding back, trying to give her space and provide her with every comfort and meet her every need. The first few months nothing had changed almost to where he wasn’t sure the baby was still there until he touched her tummy or he saw the weary nausea the little creature caused her. But when that first pooch started to show he started being cautious. First, just being sure not to let his weight rest on her too heavily, then having her straddle him when they made love. Slowly he noticed how she moved differently and became shyer with letting him see her like that. He hadn’t pressed her, or asked her why, not wanting her to feel pressured by his wants when she had already given him so much.

He coaxed her to lay out on the duvet, open to his gaze, and sat up beside her on the bed. His eyes traveled the length of her from head to toes and back without hesitation, taking her in. She was so beautiful. It was obvious to him now, and he should have asked, that it hadn’t been discomfort or a lack of desire that had brought that reluctance from her. It had been shame in her beautiful body. She hadn’t wanted to be on display when they made love.

“I’m sorry I let you think even for a moment that you were anything less than beautiful,” he apologized gently.

“You didn’t,” she tried, but Hwa gently touched her lips.

“When you pulled away I didn’t ask,” he shook his head. “I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are. Something I should do every day. I won’t slip again.” He swore, lifting one of her arms so he could kiss the inside of her wrist. “Every day I’ll pick something about you and sing it’s praise until you understand the way I love and adore every inch of you.”

“You don’t have to,” she looked up at him, reaching to pull him close. “Just make love to me.”

“Hush,” he teased. “Let me do this right.” Reaching out, he spread a hand out over her stomach, gently rubbing the soft roundness there. “I think I want to start with this. This beautiful curve that says how much you love me. So much that you let me fill you with new life and are loving and nurturing it in a way I can’t for almost a year. It’s… such a gift. And when I look at you all round and full, all I can think is that I would do it a hundred times just to see how breathtaking you look filled with my baby.”

“You don’t find it… weird?” She asked, watching his hand move over her belly.

“Weird?” His brow furrowed.

“I mean aside from being fat,” she pulled herself up on her elbows and looked at her stomach like it was something foreign to her. “There’s someone in there. And I think they can already feel and hear what’s going on.”

“It is a little funny,” He admitted, curling up beside her so he could press his forehead to the bump. “Hello little Hyunjinnie. You should know how much I love your mommy. You are here because we wanted to have something so special together. I’m going to make love to her and you’re just going to have to close your ears for a little bit. Because she was my wife before she was your mom, so I have prior claim, okay?”

“Hwa,” she laughed.

“My child and I are coming to an understanding, okay?” He laughed, a joyful sound though his expression looked slightly pained as it was wont to do sometimes.

“I love you,” she laughed, a happy tear sparkling down her cheek.

“Now,” he said, moving to lay down on the bed and guiding her to roll onto her side so he could spoon her from behind. “Let me make love to the most beautiful woman on earth.” He slid one thigh between hers and pulled her flush against his body. Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, he let his hand wander, cupping her breast and stroking down the curve of the side of her belly until his fingers reached the apex of her thighs. He could feel her becoming damp and slid a teasing fingertip over the soft slit of her lips.

“Oh Hwa,” she breathed, arching against him.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered into the shell of her ear.

“I need you like I need air right now,” she murmured, using her hand to guide his fingers to brush her pulsing clit.

“I left my girl alone for too long,” he cooed. “I let her go feeling unloved when I really wanted nothing more than to live buried inside her. To make our two bodies one.”

She moaned as he made circles around her sensitive nub.

“Please,” she begged breathlessly. “I want you inside me. I feel so empty without you.”

“Empty,” he teased, speeding up the movements of his fingers. “When I’ve left you so full?”

“It’s not the same,” she whined.

“I know,” he soothed, kissing her shoulder. “Come for me like this and I’ll fill you up with all of me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating on the feel of his fingers and the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck. Her body fluttered and Hwa whispered praise for her beauty and her heart. She came apart in his arms, becoming a squirming mess as he held her against him. The sounds of her pleasure drove him wild. He had missed this, had missed the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, and the sound of her going wild at his touch.

“I love you,” he whispered as she came down, holding her and nipping at her sweat salted skin.

“Hwa, you promised,” she whined, grinding back into his lap.

“I will,” he promised, pulling back enough to reach into the bedside drawer. Pulling out their old familiar bottle of lube, he got himself ready to enter her waiting body. “Are you ready for me?”

“I have been… so long,” she sighed, lifting one leg up to allow him access to her body.

“Angel,” he murmured, pulling her close and lining up his body with hers. “You are so beautiful. You are my everything. Thank you for giving me the gift of your love and this.” His palm caressed her bump as he pushed inside her. “Everything you bring to my life is a gift.”

“Oh Hwa,” she groaned, twining her fingers with his as he held her flush against him. He whispered words of love as he slid himself in and out of her body enjoying the sensation of her surrounding him, something he had been too long without. She was his haven and his comfort and the closeness made his heart swell in his chest. He could feel the prickle tears tickling the back of his eyes as emotion rolled through him like stormy waves.

His orgasm hit him with the intensity he hadn’t felt since their wedding night, that first time when he was with her when she was really his. It wasn’t their first time, but it was the first time they belonged to each other. It had meant everything to him and for a moment he had worried she would judge him for letting the rush of sentimentality overwhelm him as he collapsed onto her. Instead she had offered him love and comfort, entwining her limbs with his until he couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other began. He had laughed and cried and held her until the light of dawn had shown through the window of their hotel room. Only then had they let exhaustion pull them under. He would never forget the shine of her skin in the milky light of dawn. That perfect moment had not been matched until this one as they lay together, spooning and sticky in the candle like glow of the string of lights.

“My everything,” he panted, pressing a kiss to the back of her head and balling their fists together as he kept himself buried inside her as he slowly went soft.

“Love you,” she slurred sleepily, letting her eyes close.

“Do you need help changing babe?” Seonghwa asked from the opposite side of the dressing screen.

“No, I don’t think so,” she sighed, fidgeting with the gauzy sleeve of the maternity dress. She stepped out from behind it, feeling a little self conscious with her belly out on full view.

“You look beautiful,” he beamed at her, leaning down to give the baby a kiss before leaning in to press a second to her lips. “Ready for some pictures?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, waddling forward. “I’m just not sure about the bare belly thing.”

“You look incredible,” he assured her. “But we can make some adjustments if you want to cover up a little more.”

“No, its okay,” she put a hand on her lower back as a little dull pain flared there. “But I’m warning you. We are having some little alien moments with Hyunjin on the move.”

“Hmmm?” He asked, his eyes locking on her belly as he walked beside her.

“Here,” she turned so he could see the other side and paused, giving the lower part a little pat. After a second the tiny outline of a hand pressed back.

“Well, hello there baby,” he cooed excitedly, brushing a hand over the little bump.

“I think we are doing some somersaults getting ready to come out,” her voice was a little breathless and strained. Seonghwa straightened up and moved to support her as they walked over to the place that was all set up for their pictures.

The photographer took a few candid pictures as the couple moved around to get comfortable. They were one of the most precious couples he had had the honor of photographing. Seonghwa was clearly smitten for his wife and their unborn child and his wife glowed when she looked at him. They were that sort of forever couple, he had decided moments after meeting them. Death was going to be the only thing that pulled them apart, and with any luck, that would be decades and decades in the future.

“Oh god,” she whimpered, holding onto the bar as she knelt on the bed in the delivery room, another contraction squeezing her.

“You’re so brave, baby,” he praised. “You’re doing so well. Just a little longer now.”

“Hwa it hurts,” she wept, her face contorting as the pain peaked again.

“I know,” he gave her his best watery, brave smile. “But you’re doing such a great job. I promise I will change every diaper the first month if you just keep pushing.”

“I’m trying,” she ground out between hiccoughs of pain.

“You are and you’re doing so well,” he cupped her cheeks as the nurse reached between her legs to catch the baby as it emerged. She let out a sharp cry just before the shoulders finally came out, allowing the baby to soon come out with just a couple more pushes.

Hwa looked down at his sleeping wife, holding little Hyunjin in his arms.

“She worked 36 hours to bring you into this world, you know,” he murmured to the baby as it slept against his bare chest. “We should both try to be very, very nice to her, okay?”

Hyunjin fussed slightly and Seonghwa bounced them gently to lull them back to sleep. Another hour of sleep for her he hoped. The baby would need to nurse but she needed a rest. She looked so small in the bed, slightly pale and exhausted. Understandable, he thought to himself, after pushing out a person today.

“I’m coming,” she murmured quietly, padding down the hall to the baby’s room. Seonghwa was still asleep in their bed, but if he heard the baby fussing, he would be up in a flash, either offering to bring the baby to her for a feeding or trying to heat up a bottle she had pumped over the last couple of days.

She suspected Hyunjin wasn’t really hungry, just thirsty and a little cranky. A few minutes of nursing and rocking would probably be enough. Picking them up, she took a seat in the quiet gliding rocker and opened the front of her night gown. Pulling out her breast, she rubbed the nipple on Hyunjin’s tiny pink lips, coaxing them to latch on. The baby eagerly opened and locked onto her nipple with happy little coos as the cuddled into the warmth and comfort of her body.

“That’s my baby,” she cooed, closing her eyes as she held the happily suckling baby in her arms that rested safely on the nursing pillow in her lap. The sucks of Hyunjins mouth became less frequent and their breaths grew longer until they happily fell asleep still half nursing from mom as she succumbed to sleep herself.

That was how Seonghwa found them when he woke up to an empty bed a little while after. Carefully taking the baby from his wife’s limp arms, he tucked them into their crib before he knelt down to close her nightgown for her. He knew he probably couldn’t get her back to bed without waking her up, but he was going to try anyway. Gently taking away the nursing pillow, he set it in its place beside the crib before carefully working his arm under her armpits and knees, lifting her into his arms so he could carry her down the hall. She stirred in her sleep, cuddling into him and saying his name softly. He shushed her as he tucked her in under the covers, pulling them high up until they were tucked in up to her chin.

Placing a quick kiss on her forehead he quietly made his way out of the room again to sit for a little bit with the other most precious person in his life. Hyunjin was still happily sleeping so Hwa took a seat in the rocker, determined to spend just a little time keeping watch over them as they slept. But as a new, sleep deprived parent himself as well, he soon found himself nodding off as the rocker moved smoothly under him.

“Hyunjin, are you ready to go to school?” Hwa asked, kneeling down to straighten their jacket and fix the couple of buttons they had put in the wrong holes.

“Yes, daddy,” They grinned happily, picking up their big yellow backpack.

“Good,” he grinned, kissing their forehead and looking at them with all the pride and love that was bursting in his heart. He always saw his wife looking at him from behind those little sparkling eyes. “I’m glad you’re letting me walk you on your first day. I know mommy would have been happy to do it too, but I really wanted to take you.”

“I know daddy,” they nodded, taking his hand as they made their way out the front door. “It’s all you have been talking about this week.”

“You are doing this so I stop, aren’t you?” He laughed, his eyes pinching in that same almost pained look as he looked down at them with pure affection.

“No daddy,” Hyunjin shook their head and looked up at him earnestly. “I wanted to walk with you too. Then you can be the last person to give me a hug before my big day when I become a big kid.”

“Oh of course,” He nodded seriously, walking at the pace set by the little person who would always be his baby, no matter how old they got. “My baby is growing up so fast.”

Masterlist

If you got this far, feel free to send me an ask if you have a preference for the next member. If not, if I decide to continue, I might do it in age order.

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #fatherhood #ateez smut #kpop smut #kpop fluff #Seonghwa

270 notes · View notes

pinkiepiebones · 3 years

Note

special bakes a cake. or, alternatively, harley bakes a cake for zsasz's birthday.

THESE ARE BOTH POWERFUL PROMPTS I MIGHT DO BOTH

first prompt

Special rubbed his forehead and ran a glamoured hand through his glamoured hair, partly to make sure it was stylishly unkempt, partly to make sure his horns were hidden. He checked behind him again to make sure his tail was hidden. To the average passerby he was just a gangly white man of indeterminate age in skinny jeans, a faded band shirt, and boots with suspiciously hoof-like toes. Just a guy with unnervingly green eyes and oddly feathery black hair. Just a guy no one would interrogate if they found him cooking. Special nodded to himself. He peeked around the corner and tiptoed across the hall to the kitchen.

Special had been in the church’s kitchen only one other time in his sixty-something years of Earthly existence. Thirty-something years ago he had tried to make chicken noodle soup for his dear friend Copia. He put a live chicken in a pot of wet noodles and brought it to Copia’s room where the bishop was recovering from breaking his leg.

Special learned that day that cooking was a little more involved than that. Thirty-something years later, he decided to try again.

He grabbed an apron from a row of hooks and a book from a cramped shelf. “Okay man,” he said to himself, “you can do this. You don’t have a sense of taste, but if you follow the recipe, the WHOLE recipe, you can succeed.”

Special thumbed through the book. He grew frustrated and pushed it aside and pulled another from the shelf. Then another. “Why do none of these have pictures?!”

Finally, he found it. A dessert book, fully illustrated. He grinned and hummed to himself as he wandered about the cavernous kitchen to gather various supplies. He kept stopping to peer at the book, which he had perched neatly on an ornately decorated ribcage he assumed was a book holder, and arranged the ingredients and measuring implements in the order they were listed.

Paying attention was not hard for Special when he was interested in something. He could spend hours sitting relatively still if he was listening to music. If he was made to do something that didn’t immediately pique his un-ghoul-like fascination, he would experience an un-ghoul-like boredom and his mind would drift. He felt himself starting to drift as he read the first direction and shook his head vigorously.

”C’mon, man! Focus! Be good at making food!“ He pretended to take a deep breath (pretending being the only option as ghouls do not have lungs) and crouched down so his nose was level with the thick onyx counter, his eyes level with the markings on the measuring implement.

Sisters and Brothers and Siblings of Sin came and went, tending to their own culinary quests. Special resisted the urge to ask them for help. He was determined to start and finish this project on his own.

He did ask someone if the kitchen had a blender. But that was a necessary step. The instructions specified blender use.

The creation of the cake was interesting to him. These disparate foodstuffs combining to become a wholly new foodstuff, that was some alchemy shit. Humans had some good in them, Special thought. If they can make music and cake, they’re not all horrid.

The waiting was the hardest part. As soon as the oven door was closed and the time was set Special needed something else to do. Special fidgeted. He rocked back and forth on a stool. He stood on the stool. He paced. He paced backwards. He drummed spatulas on the copper pots hanging overhead. Every time he thought about unglamouring so he could twist his tail up in his talons or pace on the ceiling a Sister or Brother or Sibling or Cardinal or Bishop would pop in to retrieve a soda or a snack or a sacrifice. It was agonising. And of course he had left his phone in his bedroom. Rookie mistake!

Special had taken to spilling salt on the onyx countertops and dagging his finger through it to create intricate mazes. When the timer shrieked he nearly jumped out of his glamoured skin. He scrambled back to the ovens and opened his and pulled the tray out.

”Okay, now I poke you with a tooth pick. What is that. Do I use my tooth?” Special, still gripping the oven-fresh cake pan with his bare hands, opened his mouth wide and positioned his upper jaw over the tray.

”Uh…”

Special’s eyes darted to the right. A Sibling of Sin had seen everything. They wordlessly and without averting their gaze reached up into a cupboard and withdrew a package of wooden slivers. They handed one to Special. Special took the wood sliver, confused. The Sibling, eyes still locked on Special’s, silently mimed puncturing something with the sliver.

Special snapped his jaw shut and nodded in understanding. “Oh! OH!! I get- yes, okay, tack så mycket!”

The Sibling nodded and slowly backed out of the kitchen. They had only been a member of the church for a month. Seeing a man pull a cake from the oven with bare hands and attempt to ingest the whole thing by unhinging his jaw was the oddest thing they had seen so far. Don’t worry, they’ll get used to the church eventually.

Special, meanwhile, anxiously pressed the toothpick into the center of the cake and withdrew it slowly. He let out a celebratory yelp when it came out clean.

The ghoul carefully set the cake on a plate and began decorating. Special didn’t understand the appeal of frosting (why should I cover up my good work?) but making it himself gave him a sense of- not pride, but an adjacent feeling. Oh hell, maybe it WAS pride. He set the knife down and admired his work. Then he giggled and carefully but hurriedly grabbed the plate and took off for the Papal Office.

By the time Special got to the door he has shed all his glamour. His tail was wagging ferociously. He rocked on his cloven hooves and turned his head to knock on the door with one of his antelope-like horns.

”Ba- er, Papa? You home?”

Behind the door was the sound of fluttering papers and Swedish mumbles. Copia, looking resplendent in his Papal Office Work Attire, his skull paint perfectly painted on his recently renovated face, opened the door and stared in surprise at the ghoul and the cale before him.

”I baked you a cake!”

”Are you not banned from the kitchens?”

”Oh, I am. But-“ with a shimmer of shadow Special shapeshifted into a humanoid “-my human persona isn’t!” The ghoul strode into the office and set the cake gingerly on the desk. He turned to Copia and grinned with a mouth full of shapeshifted, crooked teeth.

”C’mon, try it!”

Copia sat back down in his office chair and stared down the cake. It looked alright. The blue frosting was somewhat haphazardly applied, but it covered the entirety of the baked good, which meant that Special had concentrated long enough to accomplish such a task. Copia took a knife from a drawer in his desk, checked to make sure it wasn’t ceremonial or cursed, and sliced a piece. Lacking further cutlery, he opted to use a relatively clean scrying bowl and toy pitchfork as a plate and a fork. The cake itself was a slightly unnerving bloody red, surprisingly spongy and did not appear to contain feathers, beaks, bones, or gemstomes, which ghouls had been known to add to food at times- whether this was to help humans or kill them, it was unclear.

Copia took a cautious bite. His mismatched eyes widened and he looked at Special who stood on the other side of the desk, wriggling with anticipation.

”Red velvet?”

”Well, I think I should call it ‘blue velvet,’ because of the frosting, which, I dunno if you can tell, I put a tiny bit of lingonberry jam in it, because everything being one flavour sounded boring… What’s wrong?”

Copia had stood. He moved to the side of the desk at which Special stood and embraced the ghoul. “This is delicious. It tastes as though a being with a sense of taste and smell made it!” He pulled back, an eyebrow raised. “Did you really make this yourself? For reals?”

Special beamed and wagged his tail. “Of course I made it myself! I can achieve things alone, y’know, when I focus.”

Copia reached back and picked up his cake slice. “You need to hide the rest of the cake,” he said gravely. “The tour is soon to start and I can’t be eating an entire cake even IF gluttony is a sin.” He ate another forkful and licked blue frosting from his black lips. “I love you, Spesh, and I love this cake, but damn you for finding this talent at a time when I need to watch my figure!”

Special retrieved the rest of the confection and kissed his human’s sugared lips. “I’m glad after all our time together I can still surprise you” he said happily.

#ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost the band #spooky ideas

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

Johnny gives me rough childhood vibes. Maybe a fic about his childhood or why he acts the way he does

Hiya lovely anon! Right so again, i’m sorry for making everyone wait ages for their requests but i never want to rush them and have them be bad. So i like to take my time to plan out how i want to write them before i write. I hope this was worth the wait and i hope that you love it. I’ve followed the story of Johnny and Sue and what happened to their parents but i’ve changed the age of when it happened, sort of. It’s for the sake of the fic to make it work.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: You’ve been dating Johnny for a while now but you still don’t feel like you know him, the real him. So when you finally ask about his life growing up, he hesitates to open up.

Warning: Angst, mentions of death, mentions of murder (not much), mentions of depression, self harm and just all round dark. If any of these themes upset or trigger you then please don’t read. 18+

Word Count: 4,311

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @xo-tough-love-xo go check them out🥰

Demons Unmasked

Ever since you first met Johnny you knew there was something about him, something behind those eyes, an immense pain that he could never move on from or heal. But being his partner didn’t automatically earn you the right to know and he wasn’t exactly the best at opening up. So for a while you learned to let it all go and let him be the one to tell you whenever he felt ready.

You can still remember when you first asked him about what life was like for him and Sue. He’d clued you in very early on about his parents and the fact that they passed when he was younger. It was hard on him, he didn’t need to tell you that, you just knew. And since he barely shared any more details, it was obvious that the whole thing was still a sore subject.

Sue pretty much raised him after that point and it wasn’t easy, she struggled day in and day out and worried like crazy about setting him on the right path and keeping him there. Gangs were all the rage and let’s just say it wasn’t an easy job to do to keep him far away.

When you and Johnny first started dating, Sue pulled you to the side for a chat at dinner and gave you a heads up about everything. At first you didn’t get why but the more time you spent with Johnny, you realised that he was very guarded and she wanted you to be aware of what you were getting into. She wanted you to know that patience is key when it comes to him telling you things.

And over the last year you’ve really learned a lot about patience. You’ve been there in the middle of the night when he’d wake up from a nightmare that scared him so much that he struggled to sleep again afterwards. You’ve wiped the sweat from his forehead and held him in your arms to soothe him. You’ve watched him change the subject umpteen times whenever the conversation turned to family.

Which isn’t a surprise because to him, his only family was Sue. She’s the only family member he ever knew and the thought of him growing up with next to no one else, saddens you deeply.

Today is your birthday and Johnny has been driving himself up the wall with plans for it. He keeps saying how he wants today to be perfect for you and that his favourite person in the world deserves nothing but the best.

Whoever said romance is dead hadn’t met Johnny Storm.

“Babe” he calls, his voice echoing through the apartment until he reaches the bathroom to find you drying off after your shower. His eyes rake over your body in awe before you turn away out of embarrassment “everything okay?” you ask, wrapping the towel back around yourself and padding into the bedroom and then to the closet to pick out your outfit for the day.

“Yeah, i just wondered when you wanted to do gifts” he smiles, leaning against the door frame as you change and then turn to him with the same smile on your face “whenever you’re ready” you say, glancing at yourself in the mirror briefly before following him out into the lounge and the moment you step foot into the room, you gasp at the sight. Balloons and banners cover the walls and floor. A small stack of presents sit nicely on the coffee table in front of the couch and you roll your eyes before looking at him.

“Johnny” you sigh, he’s really gone all out and you feel so lucky right now. Despite you consistently telling him that all you wanted was to spend the entire day with him, no gifts needed, he didn’t listen.

“What? You didn’t seriously expect me to not spoil you on your birthday did you?” he smirks, leading you over to the couch and handing you a card. You open it and pull it out to see it’s covered in love hearts with a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ on the front. However, when you open it to look inside, the cutest message is written.

‘Y/N,

Whether we are together or apart, you’re first in my thoughts and first in my heart. Happy birthday baby.

Lots of love, Johnny x’

As much as he likes to play dumb, he’s actually very intelligent and very cute and thoughtful. This card means more to you than any present ever could. Your lips touch his as you thank him for his beautiful words and mutter “i love you” in between the kisses.

“Now, open this one first” he instructs, pointing to the square box. You pick it up, placing it on your lap and start to undo the black ribbon tied neatly on top and when you lift the lid, a canvas is lightly covered in red tissue paper. It’s a picture of you and Johnny together. His lips are just touching your forehead and you’re smiling so big that you’re pretty sure your face was hurting. You both look like the epitome of happiness.

Tears brim in your eyes and you let one fall before turning to him “Johnny, i love it. It’s perfect” he tilts your head up to capture your lips in a loving kiss followed by a small make out session. He’s always struggled to stop at one kiss.

“I was worried it would be too much but i thought you could hang it right above our bed”

Did he just say our bed? Wait, are you missing something here because you don’t live with him, sure you’ve discussed it but never made any official decisions.

You can see he quickly regrets saying it as soon as he widens his eyes before clearing his throat and handing you the next present. This one is a tad smaller than the box before and it’s a white box with sticker in the middle, the writing is unclear but you waste no time in pulling the lid off to reveal a gorgeous apron.

When you and Johnny first met it was at a bake sale that Sue had dragged him along to. You were selling cakes that you had made, all sorts of flavours. He kept coming around to your booth over and over, tasting a different cake each time and giving you more than the money that they costed. You remember your sister who was helping you sell them telling you that he liked you but you waved her off, refusing to believe that you’d caught someones eye. But funny enough, before he left, he plucked up the courage to ask for your number and the rest is history.

The apron is white with a variety of colours all over it, the strings are pink and you’re in love with it. Now you’re desperate to get in the kitchen and bake just so you can wear it. He must have noticed the way your current one was getting rather tatty and the fact that he thought to get you this just goes to show how thoughtful he is and how much attention he pays to you.

“It’s so beautiful” you beam, holding it up to admire it some more “just like you then” he winks, snaking his arms around your torso and pulling you closer as he holds the final present in his hands.

Though you’re trying your best, you just can’t get the way he said our bed, out of your head. What did he mean by that?

“And this is the last one, i promise” he chuckles, popping it into your small hands and allowing you to open it. Once you do, a key sits in the middle with your initials written on one side and his on the other. You look up at him, more tears forming as it starts to click what this means “will you move in with me?” tears form in his eyes too as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes and you wrap your arms around him “yes, i’d love to” you grin, kissing him some more.

“Really?” does he even need to ask?

“Yes, really. I’d love to live with you”

He cups your face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss if that’s even possible before resting his forehead to yours and a relieved sigh escapes “i tried my hardest not to ruin it when you opened the canvas but i guess i just got too excited” he explains, so that’s what he meant by our bed.

Now it makes sense why he was looking at duvet sets and toothbrush holders for his place. He was preparing in case you said yes. Which you did and it was the easiest yes you’ve ever given.

Johnny then stands up, clearing any rubbish away before sitting back down next to you and going over the plans for the rest of the day. He mentions how he’s booked a table for dinner tonight but wants to take you shopping for something new to wear first. You reluctantly agree, after losing the battle with him. You tried to explain that you could just wear something you already have but he wasn’t having any of it.

You never win.

After getting your shoes on and brushing your teeth, you walk out into the hall to get your coat from the rack and as you do, Johnny bends down to pick up some post before spotting you stood there.

“Looks like you’ve got some cards” he states, handing them to you for you to open.

The first one you open is from your sister, she’s been busy lately with college so you didn’t expect to see her today but it’s the thought that counts.

The next one is from your parents. Johnny takes them from you once you read what’s inside so he can set them down next to the card you got from Sue and Reed and his one.

As he does this you notice him reading the cards and his face falls once he reads the one from your parents.

“Are you okay?” stupid question but you can’t just jump straight into a conversation like that, he has to know that you’re treading lightly. It’s always been a tough subject for him.

“Yeah, i’m fine” he shrugs it off before placing it down and turning to leave the room “shall we go then?” but you stop him.

“Johnny” he shakes his hand from your grasp, pulling away and letting out an annoyed deep breath “leave it Y/N” he snaps but you don’t. You can’t just keep leaving it. You want him to tell you when he’s ready but you’re afraid that day may never arrive unless you prove to him how much you care.

You sit back down on the couch and your silent prayers that he’ll join you pays off as he takes a seat next to you “Johnny, i know this isn’t exactly a conversation you want to have with me but i want you to know that i love you no matter what and i want to be here for you if you ever need me” you explain, taking his hands and holding them both in yours.

“I’m fine, Y/N seriously. I just need to stop being silly and move on from it. Most people have their parents around and i don’t, i haven’t since i was 10 and that’s fine” he rushes, in hopes that it’ll get you off his back but you aren’t budging.

Silence falls upon the two of you for a couple of minutes and you decide to just let him calm down before speaking. Eventually he beats you to it “i didn’t exactly have the best childhood. I was raised by my older sister and spent years so angry at the world that i did everything in my power to shut everyone out. I constantly wanted to lash out and make people hurt the way i was hurting. I joined gangs, i’d commit silly crimes like stealing and when that stopped distracting me, i resorted to self harm. I’d sit in my room for hours upon hours, sometimes even days and just lay there, music drowning out all the noise as i constantly attacked my own body. I hated who i’d become but who i’d become was the only way i could stop myself from hearing those voices in my head. Voices that told me my parents were better off not being parents to me and that i was a failure”

Tears drown your vision out as you listen to the man you love open up for the first time since you met him. He’s never told you about any of this. Now you can see why. When terrible things happen to us as a human race, we’re taught that no one will understand or that we are freaks and should just keep it to ourselves. Men are conditioned to feel like showing any kind of emotion will make them less of a man and that they need to be strong. The stigma attached to mens mental health is shocking and now you wonder if he ever told Sue any of this. You know she’s aware of him having some issues but has she known about this all along, all of the details?

“My mother died when i was 8, her and my dad were in a car accident, he survived and she well, you already know. Her side of the car was the side that got hit and my dad who was a doctor, struggled to save her. He spent so long beating himself up for it, blaming himself and soon enough he found comfort in alcohol. He drunk himself stupid every night almost and eventually got into gambling. Sue tried her best to help him, using me as a bribe for him to turn his life around, telling him that i needed a dad and if i lost him too it would destroy me. But he didn’t care. He was consumed by guilt, so much so that he got into a lot of trouble, mostly with loan sharks, we lost our house after he left and had to go and live with my aunt”

“Left? Where did he go?” you ask, keeping a hold of his hands as they shake from recounting all of his childhood trauma to you, you can see this is hard for him “if you don’t want to tell me then i won’t make you”

“No, i need to do this. He never died, i lied to you. He got sent down for murder two years after my mom passed, the lone sharks he got into trouble with were threatening him, it got pretty bad and he saw no way out. It’s just easier for me to say he died because i’m ashamed to admit that he refuses to see me or Sue and if i’m being honest, he might as well be dead. He doesn’t want anything to do with us. He said the guilt that fills him at the mention of our names is enough to make him want to stay away. He still blames himself for my mothers death”

You feel extremely overwhelmed right now, unsure of what to say until he turns to look at you.

“Listen to me, in no way are your parents better off being gone. If they were still with you and in your life, they’d be so proud of you. Johnny, i mean it. You’re incredible, the things you’ve achieved in the last year alone are something to be celebrated. I love you and i’m not going to let you diminish everything that you are. You’re brave and strong and i’m so glad to call you my boyfriend”

He leans his head on your shoulder and you pull him in for a hug. Both of your eyes fill with more tears as some fall down your faces and you can tell that right now all he needs is for you to be here and hold him.

After hearing all of that, everything makes sense. The way he acts, the way he overcompensates with his flirting and humour. He uses it as a mask, to cover up who he is in the dark when he’s alone. When you’re not around, this is him. Just a scared little boy who’s known rejection, sadness and regret for as long as he can remember. He’s just wanted to feel accepted, loved and wanted by those around him and he was forced to grow up way too early, losing his parents so close together can’t have helped him at all. Knowing his dad doesn’t want to see him saddens you all the more.

“Are you, you know... self harming now?” the one question you hate to ask but you have to know “no, i haven’t since before i met you. I found other ways to help my anger like working out” you both pull away from the hug and he sees how puffy your eyes are, his aren’t much better either.

“How did you do it?” again, you really don’t want to know but you have to, you want to understand him more and you’re hoping he won’t pull away from you now “however i could. Cutting, punching. All sorts. To me it didn’t matter what i did as long as i did something to ease the pain but the release never lasted long enough”

You close your eyes, sighing. All you feel for him right now is sympathy and anger. Angry that you didn’t know him then to help him but sympathy because no one should ever have to go through that. No one should ever have to feel so much pain that they resort to hurting themselves, no one should ever have to feel so worthless that they get themselves into trouble and lash out at everyone around them. His dad should have stayed, he should have used Johnny and Sue as a reason to fight but even then, addiction is hard to fight so it’s not like it would have been easy for him. Guess life just has a funny way of working out and this all happened for a reason. A very sick reason but a reason nonetheless. You’re just glad he’s with you now.

“I ruined your birthday” he mumbles, looking down and picking at the skin around his fingernails, anxiety practically drowning him but you’re not gonna let him do this.

You force him to look in your eyes and wipe the tears as they fall from his bloodshot eyes “hey, I don’t want to hear that you ruined my birthday. My birthday could never be ruined with you here. Whenever you’re around i feel like nothing could take away how good i feel” and it’s true, he makes you feel better, he improves your mood. You love him and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop.

There’s nothing he could ever tell you that could ever make you leave “are you sure?” his voice is low and barely audible but you hear it “i’m certain” he falls into your arms again and you kiss his head whilst you squeeze him tight “i love you” he sobs, his tears dripping onto your skin “and i love you” you rock him side to side, hoping to calm this frightened boy.

---------------------------------

After a while of just sitting there holding him, your phone rings, bringing you out of that sad state. It’s Sue.

He opens his eyes to see where all the noise is coming from and you move to pick the phone up.

“Hi Sue” you greet, barely even attempting to act nonchalant “sure, when?” she tells you that she was thinking of cooking for you, for your birthday and wants to know if you and Johnny are free.

You put the phone on speakerphone so Johnny can hear and he just gives you a nod as if to say ‘it’s up to you’. You know the relationship he has with Sue is important to him and he’s always been very happy about how well the two of you get along so you agree without a second longer to fester over it.

Sue hangs up to start cooking whilst Johnny excuses himself to reschedule the reservation for tomorrow instead. He insists that he wants today to be all about you and if going to have dinner with Sue is what you want, he doesn’t mind making the change but you still feel bad. He had this whole day planned and you can’t help but feel as though you’ve ruined it.

“Baby, it’s fine. Sue’s cooking is great, not 5 star Greek restaurant great but still great. We’ll go to that place tomorrow” he kisses your forehead as he heads into the other room to freshen up and you follow.

-------------------------

The journey to Reeds place doesn’t take long at all, it’s practically round the corner which doesn’t surprise you. You can recall Reed and Sue looking at bigger places but Sue ended up calling it off because she wanted to be close to Johnny at all times. Close enough so that if he ever needed her, she could be there.

Sue answers the door, smiling at you both as she ushers you inside, giving you a big hug and a present before you sit down “i was going to give this to you yesterday along with the card but i decided to wait until today”

You rip open the simple wrapping paper to reveal a Tiffany & Co. box with a white gold lock pendant necklace inside . It’s gorgeous “wow, guys. You really didn’t have to” you’re in shock “thank you so mucj”

She brings you into a hug before you stand to hug Reed too and shortly after Sue leads you away from him and Johnny and into the kitchen.

“You know i really ought to thank you” she says as she starts to dish up the food into serving bowls “since you came around, he’s been different. Happier. And i’m not saying this to make you feel obligated to stay with him but i want you to know that seeing him truly happy really means the world. You listen to him, you care for him and you love him”

Hearing Johnny say that you make him a better person and improve his life always leads to you waving him off like it’s nothing and that he doesn’t need to remind you what you’ve done for him because he’s improved your life too but hearing Sue say it, hearing her thank you like this. It all feels more real, like you really have made a difference.

“He told me everything” you blurt out, unsure if Johnny would want you to tell her that you know and by the way she shivers, you can see you caught her off guard “really?” she keeps herself busy with the food as she talks and when you walk closer to face her she freezes.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you both and i just want to say that any time you want to talk, i’m here. It must be hard sometimes carrying all of that on your back but just so you know, you’ve done an amazing job with Johnny. I couldn’t think of someone who’s sweeter or more polite and he’s doing well for himself” your praise sets her off and she starts wiping at her eyes before hugging you once more “thank you”

Johnny enters the kitchen, clearing his throat to announce his presence and when he sees the two of you, clearly having a heart to heart, his eyes soften “is the food almost ready?”

Sue nods, gesturing to the many serving bowls on the kitchen counter “take the potatoes and vegetables in please and send Reed in too” he nods, smiling as he does as he’s told before looking towards you with pure adoration.

God, he’s everything. He’s brave, loving and strong. You’re so glad he trusted you enough to open up and you’re gonna continue to be there for him, should he ever need to talk to you about any of it again.

Years have gone by with him never being able to find the words to talk about his childhood until you came along. Sharing everything with you was the first step to finally moving forward. Maybe he stands a real chance now at living a life free of all that pain. Maybe one day that will be possible and he can finally stop worrying about everything haunting him. One step at a time though.

He’s got you here with him to help him through and that’s all that matters right now.

----------------------

General Tags: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 @toni9 @aaliferous @bradfordmyworld @thereisa8ella @kaminorogers @yassspose @randomsevans

Just Chris & His Characters Tags: @onetwo3000 @persephonequeenofthedead @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @rynabarnesrogers @princess-evans-addict @stxvercgersslut @chris-evanslover @bval-1 @thejemersoninferno @denisemarieangelina @janeyboo @evansphnx12 @dwights-new-plague @whxre4cevans @a-little-counter-esperanto

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#Johnny Storm #Johnny Storm angst #Johnny Storm x Reader #Chris Evans #Cevans #Chris Evans Angst #fantastic four #fantastic four rise of the silver surfer #angst #fanfiction #request #reader inserts #x reader #Chris Evans x Reader

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icicleteeth · 4 years

Text

Daedric Prince Cakes Design Doc

(For those seeing this before the full set of cakes are up, I’m just posting this ahead of time so that I can link it right when the post goes up. Full doc under the cut!)

Azura: Each layer of Azura’s cake creates a gradient of deep dark blue to lighter pink to represent dusk and dawn. Red roses on top represent the crown of red roses she’s seen wearing in many of her depictions.

Boethiah: Colors that stuck out to me for Boethiah were blacks, golds, and reds, so the base of her cake is a marble cake (as the patterns in marble cakes matched a theme of elegance that I thought also fit her very well) Cherries for a touch of red, golden skull ornament, and a tiny prop of Hopesfire, as what I knew Boethiah for was being Almalexia’s Anticipation.

Sheogorath: Sheo’s cake is a cheesecake (for reasons I’m sure most know), with a bright purple gelatin top, as purple is one of his primary colors. The two truffles on top represent dark seducers and golden saints, with butterfly wing decorations. White chocolate is used for the square on top since white chocolate is sweeter and less bitter, which is meant to contrast his other side (Jyggalag)

Jyggalag: Also a cheesecake, done so to mirror Sheogorath’s cake in both type and composition. His includes a much more muted pallet with a darker bitter chocolate decorating the top.

Clavicus Vile: A mousse cake, with layers of browns similar to his TES Redguard appearance. The fig on top is representative of a “forbidden fruit”, as Clavicus is the prince of trickery. The two carved and shaped chocolate slices are a visual representation of the horns on the Masque of Clavicus Vile.

The smaller mousse is Barbas, always by his side even in cake form...

Sanguine: Red velvet cake, to fit the decadent nature of Sanguine. Only red fruit on top, with a red rose decoration to represent Sanguine’s Rose. One cherry is a “popped” cherry, since he’s a prince of lust.

Hircine: Hircine’s cake is designed to be as snowy white as possible, representative of the white stag you hunt for his quest in Skyrim. The small antlers and snowberries decorating the top fit the aesthetic of a snow white cake, so they were used here.

Trinimac: Though he’s not a daedric prince, I wanted to include him too. Trinimac’s cake is designed entirely from speculation and meaning, in the sense that being an Aedra and, from what I understand, being one of the main gods of the Aldmer, I felt a more dignified type of cake like coffee cake suited him. In both shape, color, and flavor, it is meant to be a foil to Malacath’s cake.

Malacath: To contrast Trinimac, Malacath’s cake is a king cake, which is very sweet and very colorful. A small orichalcum figurine of an orc is hidden in one of the different pieces, and is found, or “born” from the cake, referencing how Trinimac became Malacath.

Mephala: Dark chocolate for this one, as I thought it fit her aesthetic better. Pomegranates are a symbol of fertility so was included on top, with cherries adding more shades of red to her cake’s pallet. The spider web shaped frosting wrapped around the base of the cake is there to more visually represent her.

Meridia: Making her cake angel food cake was a bit of on the nose reference to how she’s sometimes depicted as an angel in her statues. The “Meridia’s beacon” white truffle is decorated with white chocolate wings for more of the angel motif, though I mostly went into her design with whites and golds in mind.

Mehrunes Dagon: Dagon’s cake is a “tower” of things to represent the daedric towers you’d see in Oblivion, with a lava cake as the base, a scoop of ice cream (which was done so because most of the lava cakes I looked at for reference) and a cherry on top representative of a sigil stone.

Molag Bal: Designing Molag Bal’s cake to be a cupcake was admittedly an “I don’t like this prince so I’m going to make them a measly cupcake” decision, haha. As for the rest of the design choices, they were mostly inspired by ESO’s Molag Bal as that’s his most major appearance in TES. Blue frosting and fire, plus the cupcake holder is drawn direction from gates you’d see in Coldharbour.

Hermaeus Mora: Designed completely visually from Skyrim’s Herma Mora, I’d say it speaks for itself... I promise the eyes aren’t real they’re just fun little gummies...

Peryite: Lots of green for Peryite; the green gelatin topping drawn like the green goop you see in his Skyrim quest, the small green blue topping meant to look like little bits of backteria (though admittedly they don’t quite read that way, haha) and a decorative green snake on top (not real, probably)

Nocturnal: Another cake represented more visually, with black frosting, dark chocolate cake and dark blue/purplish fruits on top. The honey drizzle is in the shape of the gold trim seen on her robes in most of her depictions (thinking specifically of Skyrim and ESO’s take on her).

Namira: Namira is a prince of lower diseased/sickly creatures, so her cake was designed to reflect that, plus some Namira’s Rot mushrooms for good measure. The meat is...a mystery meat that is probably best not to ask about...

Vaermina: A tart made of alchemy ingredients, as alchemists were a big part of her quest with the Dreamstride. As for the alchemical reagents used...they would certainly put someone to sleep, to put it generously...

#foodposting #i tried to keep each description short because there were so many to go over and i know im gonna Go Off if I dont fjdlfjs

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gffa · 4 years

Text

LUMI’S LIST OF DESIRED ITEMS IN ANIMAL CROSSING: NEW HORIZONS. (Updated from this list, which was cut down massively by help from @bpdanakins, @stardatewow, @nobie, @zforhire, @belldreams, all of you are amazing!!) As always, I can provide bells or trades for stuff, if you need! I am more than happy to pay for any items (especially the expensive ones) or give NMT in exchange or provide materials, if you need them! RECIPES: - Scattered papers (recipe only and only if it’s convenient!) - Pile of zen cushions (OR about 10 of them made by someone with the receipe, I can provide the materials) I TEMS NEEDED FROM NOOK’S CRANNY: - Elaborate Kimono Stand (Cranes)(Balls) (thank you @seebearrun) (They’re expensive, like 220k each, but I can provide the bells or trade for one of the other designs I have, if you want! I have all but the two above.) - Berliner - Box Corner Sofa (White) (thank you @seebearrun) - Box Sofa (White) (thank you @seebearrun) - Glass Holder With Candle (Purple)(Pink)(Blue) (thank you @seebearrun) - Pop-Up Book (Flowers)(Mesozoic World) - Kids’ Tent (Pink)(Black)(Floral)(Brown) (thank you @seebearrun) - Monstera (Yellow) ANYTHING ELSE: - Well, I mean, if you don’t WANT your wedding candles or any of the in-game cakes, I would be happy to trade for them or buy them or whatever, but I figure most serious players would want theirs because they’re not purchasable. XD But if you change your mind LET ME KNOW. :D

#lumi.txt #lumi plays animal crossing

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

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Beauty Chooses II-Chapter Six

A Special thanks to @statell for your help and wisdom

Previous Chapters at AO3

Chapter Six-Remember Me

I rubbed my sore shoulders and whimpered with the pain. I don’t know why I was so keen on shooting a gun in the first place. I was obviously too small, too weak, or too something. I walked to the barn knowing Jamie would ask me if I did my exercises. If I did two or three lifts, I could tell him I succeeded. I sat on the ground and pulled the rope attached to a sack of grain and then pulled with all my might until it lifted off the ground. The rope was thrown over a board in the roof and it didn’t like to move. Maybe two more.

“Ah Sassenach, I am impressed with your dedication.”

“Finished!”

Jamie helped me up and hugged me close until he heard me wince. He held me at arms distance so he could look at me.

“Sassenach, you need not do your lifts every day. Give yer muscles time to heal in between, otherwise, ye wilna get any stronger.”

“I know, that's what you told me to do but it will take too long and now I am so sore I can barely hold Faith.”

“Mo chridhe, yer so sweet and verra sexy,” he growled into her ear. “It’s a good day for an afternoon nap.”

“A what?”

I stared at him like he had lost his mind. Jamie didn’t nap during the day, ever. He threw me over his shoulder and took the stairs two at a time being quiet in case Faith was sleeping. I was deposited on the bed and felt Jamie’s warm hands remove my boots and stockings before lifting me to remove my jacket, skirts, and the infernal corset. It took so long to get everything off it made me giggle. I still didn’t know what we were doing in bed in the middle of the day. Well, I knew what we were doing but not why since it was very uncommon. Jamie was stripped to his skin in under a minute and laid on his side, holding me close. Our bodies were pressed together from chest to toes. He closed his eyes and silently held me like that for several minutes. Our lovemaking was slow and unhurried, and I softly kissed his face a dozen times as he panted to catch his breath.

He looked at me while we laid in our post-rapture embrace. I could see his mind grinding on something and waited for him to tell me. When he didn’t, I asked what was in his mind. He told me the Jacobites had come upon him in the fields, separating Murtagh behind drawn swords at his throat. He refused to join them again, and warned them of consequences if his godfather suffered a single nick of the blade.

“They laughed at me Sassenach. One of them said I would fight, willingly or otherwise. Then they left. We must go Sassenach. After Hogmanay, plus maybe a month for the weather to become favorable for such a voyage. Be strong love and know I will keep my promise to get us to the new world before the fighting starts.”

He held me close and ran his hand up and down my back. It was a large, strong hand, that I entrusted the life of myself and our daughter to, with absolute faith he would see us safe.

The first time the Jacobites came to the estate there were five of them. They stood with Jamie outside and talked for over an hour. They were mustering and wanted Jamie to join them no doubt. I watched Jamie, for any sign of acquiescence.

It was five months later when they came a second time. I was outside with Faith and Glavia when a dozen men rode up on us. Glavia grabbed Faith and ran into the house and I turned to face them hoping my hatred did not show. I could only point them in Jamie’s direction, and they rode off to find him. That time I could not see Jamie to watch his body language. I could only hope.

When Hogmanay approached, I went the distance to provide an exceptional holiday for my family and the tenants that joined us. Misses Crook and I cooked all week for the celebration and the house was decorated in fine fashion. Jamie was up early cutting wood for fires that would burn bright all day and night. He put a pig and a deer to roast over the firepit outside. I sent Murtagh to the priest’s hole to unearth our silver serving dishes and candle holders. Throughout the day misses Crook and I laid out plates of meat and side dishes, fruit and cakes, sausages and potatoes, cheese and soup. When the house filled it was joyous with dancing and laughter. Our guests were treated to a very special party and Jamie was celebrated all evening.

It was all I could do to keep smiling, knowing this is the last Hogmanay to be celebrated in Scotland. The tenants would lose their laird, their customs, tartans, and all else held dear. It was a very difficult night for me. Faith, the apple of her father’s eye, entertained us until Glavia came for her at bedtime. She hugged Jamie and kissed him goodnight and I followed them upstairs.

“Glavia, why don’t you put a pretty dress on and go downstairs for a while. I will take care of Faith and stay right by her side.”

Glavia blushed and dropped her head shaking it side to side. She pulled Faith out of my arms and insisted I go back to the party. I listened to the joyous laughter below and fought back the tears wishing we were already on a ship to the new world. The battle of Culloden Moore was but four months away giving me good reason to fear.

When our last guest was out the door, I quickly sent misses Crook to bed and went looking for Jamie who was last seen in the dooryard with one of the tenants he grew up with. I found them in the barn, drunk off their collective asses, playing some kind of game.

“What are you two doing may I ask?”

“Ah, my beautiful Sassenach! Come my gorgeous darling. We are playing a wee game.”

“Well, the party is over and I am going to retire. How is this game played anyway?”

“One of us draws a line in the dirt, the other tries to throw somethin over the line. It’s so fun, ye want to try Sassy?”

“Certainly not. Goodnight gentlemen.”

By the state of their inebriation, I anticipated finding two very cold Highlanders passed out in the barn by morning. I went to our room to write a note for Joe. He was on my mind all evening and I wanted to wish him well. I wouldn’t know if he ever got back to Scotland and Lallybroch to see my note, but I hoped he did.

My sweet Joe, I am thrilled you come back to see my notes. I miss you and Baritone. I gave birth to Faith Ellen Fraser on January 5th, 1744. She is beautiful, healthy and strong. We have an idyllic life here without airplanes overhead or commuter traffic. Mostly, I love Jamie with every fiber of my being, so I belong here. The Jacobites are mustering troops and there is nothing I can do to stop it. We are leaving for America before the battle and I will watch Jamie’s heartbreak as he leaves his homeland. Master Raymond left me a stone that would transport me through time and worlds. Jamie threw it into a gorge, and it was never seen again. I wish I still had the stone. I have a sick feeling about escaping Scotland and wish we had a safe alternative. You start your residency this year! How very exciting. I will be thinking of you and all you will do. Love Claire

I set the note in Jamie’s hiding place and went to bed. I dreamed of sailing on a large ship seeing a beautiful green landmass ahead. I said a prayer for Jamie asking God to keep him strong and safe.

When I breezed through the kitchen the next morning it was obvious my prayer would have to wait for Jamie’s hangover to resolve as he looked anything but strong and safe today. I kissed his temple and he lifted his head an inch before dropping it back down over his plate. I poured him a whisky and announced, hair of the dog, before tipping the glass and liquid into his mouth. It seemed to help for a minute of two before he ran for a chamber pot emerging white-faced and slick with sweat.

I helped him up the stairs to our room and pulled his clothes off. He didn’t fight me, so I knew he was really feeling sick. Once he passed out, I returned to the kitchen to help with the cleanup. Out the window I could see snow whipping off the ground into spirals and sheets and moved to the door to peek outside. It was bitter cold, and I closed the door quickly.

I pulled my cloak around me with several scarves and gloves and pulled Jamie’s knit had over my head and ears.

“What’s got into ye Misses? Ye canna go outside today, it’s too cold!”

“I’ll be alright, but I cannot say the same for the animals without extra bedding. Has anyone seen Murtagh?”

“Aye, he looks worse than the Laird.”

I rolled my eyes and bravely walked outside closing the door quickly behind me. It was face-freezing cold, and I struggled to the barn hoping for a warm interior. What I saw was the plume of vaper as each animal exhaled and felt no warmth compared to outside. Something had to be done or these poor animals would freeze to death. There was a stone circle about two feet high and I wondered if it was used for fire to warm the barn during harsh weather. I dragged a stick through the dirt at the bottom and uncovered ashes and burnt pieces of wood. Running inside the house I gathered an armful of wood running back to start a life-saving fire.

How, I wondered, did they vent such an indoor fire. Running my eyes along the ceiling I saw a string ran along the slope and was tacked to the side of the barn. When I pulled the string a section of the roof popped open and it was directly above the fire pit. I was feeling like a hero when I lit the kindling to set the logs ablaze and clapped my hands at the radiating heat. What I didn’t anticipate were the embers that shot out from the popping wood sending little fireballs into the air.

I panicked, racing around the barn looking for something to contain the embers. I was ready to wake Jamie up for help when I spotted a metal disk laying atop a barrel. I grabbed each side and pulled until I was panting from the effort. I managed to move it only an inch and decided to push it off the barrel to the ground and then move it by lifting one end and tipping it over. By the time the disk was next to the fire pit, there were no more embers because the fire was long cold. I guessed I pushed that round metal for at least an hour. It was time to recruit help.

“Misses Crook, I need your assistance in the barn.”

“What have ye done to yerself Misses!”

“What?”

“Yer hands and face, they’re all black!”

By the looks of her, Misses Crook was going to faint right in front of me. I rushed to her promising I was alright. It was just soot and I was fine. I held out her cloak and bundled her up with scarves and a hat before pulling her outside to the barn. It seemed the temperature was falling if that were possible. I explained my intention to lift the disk on top of the fire pit to hold the embers leaving enough open space to fan the fire. I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, so I urged the older woman to dig deep for strength. We each took a side and heaved the disk upward to rest on the stones above the fire. I was so excited and jumped up and down realizing I had no feeling in my toes.

I pushed Misses Crook out of the barn and promised I would be fine. In reality, I was dangerously close to freezing my fingers straight through, so I worked fast. I build another fire, twice the size leaving two inches to fan oxygen into the pit. I could fan and knock down any embers that snuck out of the opening. I was so intent on what I was doing I didn’t notice the interior of the barn warming up until I suddenly felt my fingers again. As I continued fanning and chasing embers, I started to sweat and rubbed the beads off my forehead, leaving a black greasy smudge that I was unaware of.

When the fire had burned the logs into glowing beds of warmth, I turned my attention to feeding and building up the bedding in each stall. The grain was the easy part. I took the large forked shovel and walked it, heaping with straw to the closest stall. When I swung it into the air the shovel was empty and fallen straw made a path where I walked. I tried several times to use the shovel, finally setting it aside to grab heaping armfuls of straw to throw into the stalls. Donus looked at me like he was afraid, and Brimstone leaned against her stall door to watch me. The goats were unimpressed and laid down for a warm winter nap.

Next, I had to bring water for each of them and I pumped until my arm felt like it would fall off, but no water came out. I ran back into the barn when I could no longer feel my face and threw more logs into the pit after shoving the disk farther back to make room. In minutes the fire was blazing again, and I dashed to replace the cover and bat at the escaping embers. I picked up the matted hay I used for a fan and kept the fire going.

I was exhausted. I wondered how many hours I was out here but felt so happy I saved the animals. My body dropped to the ground and I leaned against the warm stones of the fire pit. It finally occurred to me why they built the sides up with two feet of stone. The fire made them hot so they would radiate heat for hours after. Very smart. The fire wasn’t shooting embers any longer, so I closed my eyes to rest for just a minute.

I heard the barn door open and Jamie calling me. I barely woke up when the door closed, and the shouting stopped. I leaned against the warm stone and closed my eyes. What seemed like seconds later Jamie was hoisting me up stammering about my black face.

“Are ye hurt Sassenach? Yer covered in soot, how did this happen?”

I was delighted to see him and smiled brightly causing Jamie to lose it completely. He bent over holding his stomach and every time he looked at me the laughter started anew. I wanted to show him all that I had done but he couldn’t stop laughing long enough.

“Well, while you wet yourself laughing at me, I’m going to get water.”

I grabbed a bucket and made for the door to try the pump again, but Jamie stopped me. He grabbed four buckets and filled them with snow, right outside the barn door, and then hung a bucket in each stall.

“That will melt straight away since ye got it so warm in here. Yer the most beautiful mess I have e’er seen, lass. Thank ye for takin charge today.”

I could see he was biting the inside of his cheek to stem his laughter and his eyes watered with the pain. I followed his gaze around the barn and saw the upended barrel, straw littered all over the floor, and straw sticking out of each stall. I glanced at my warm hands and recoiled in horror. They were black on both sides up to my forearm. I looked at Jamie while a whimper escaped, and I held my hands up.

“Come lass. Let’s get ye cleaned up.”

Jamie wrapped my multiple scarves around my face and neck and pulled my arm into the crook of his elbow like I might blow away. Strange since we were so close to the kitchen door. He checked the glowing logs and pulled the disk completely over the fire pit. When we closed the barn behind us, I started for the kitchen and felt Jamie pulling me in another direction. The snow was shooting into our faces from the wind and I was decidedly uncomfortable until he pulled me into the back door and down the steps to the room at the back of the house.

“It’s warm here because all the chimneys run down this wall.”

He pushed me to sit on the stairs and promised he would be right back. It might be warm, but it was also black as pitch and my comfort level had plummeted. Jamie was back in five minutes with a basket full of hot, wet towels and a hand mirror. He pulled me to the outside door and opened it long enough for me to see my black, sooty face. I started to giggle, especially when I smiled and my bright white teeth were suddenly visible. The more I looked the more I laughed, and Jamie was right with me.

Once composed, Jamie pulled the towels out and wiped them on my face and arms. We needed the door cracked for light, but he worked fast, dropping the black towels once they were used up. I was shaking from the contrasting cold coming through the door and the hot towels on my face and arms. My teeth started chattering and Jamie abandoned his mission to carry me upstairs. My cloak was removed and Misses Crook handed me a towel after towel, pointing to places I missed.

It all seemed to catch up with me. The laborious afternoon in the cold barn, heaving straw, moving the disk inch by inch, pumping the water, and then scraping the soot off my skin. Again, I was lifted into Jamie’s arms and carried upstairs. Each piece of clothing was carefully removed and dropped into a basket on the floor. Jamie looked me over, front and back, declaring me clean. I was never so grateful to be crawling into bed until I stopped, frozen mid-crawl, hearing Faith cry. I looked down at my dripping nipples knowing they were painfully engorged but lacking the strength to get Faith. Jamie was out the door, so I pressed into the bank of pillows he had stacked against the headboard. I felt Faith lay across my stomach and latch onto the closest nipple.

“Ye didna want to wake me Sassenach, so you used yer incredible brain to figure out the fire pit and how it worked, and incredible brawn to get the work done.”

He squeezed my sore muscles as he spoke until Faith grabbed his hand and pushed it away. She didn’t like to be disturbed when she was nursing, and Jamie and I laughed at her territorialism. Any other time she was her da’s girl but not now. Jamie leaned against the headboard and kissed my neck before pulling me with a suckling Faith against his chest.

“Close yer eyes my beauty and rest in my arms.”

I thought about what Jenny told me so long ago. It’s a beautiful life in this century with plenty of hard, backbreaking work, and an abundance of time to love and reflect. Our lives are full of genuine people who know who they are, and what their purpose is. I never hear anyone say ‘why am I here? What is my mission in life? How can I feel fulfilled? No one is board, no one is addicted, no one is depressed for no reason. When I tell Jamie about the future, he crinkles his brow over the internet and the television. The wonders of these distractions are lost on him. Rather, he can watch his daughter nurse for thirty minutes and never move a muscle.

Jamie powers through his day like he is on high octane fuel and then sits on a hay bale to talk with a tenant who needs his attention. He’s never short with them but gives his full attention and lets them talk until they choose to leave, then he goes back to his task. It’s amazing to watch because I have never seen the same in my century. I wish I could write a book about the staggering differences between the centuries. Maybe people would turn off their television and push away from the computer, spend more time with neighbors in helpful pursuits, spend more quiet time in their head so they quit looking outside themselves to define who they are. If it required returning to my own time to give this book to the people I wanted no part of it. My heart would burn for Scotland and this beautiful life. I could think of nothing I would risk going back for and settled into my nap feeling warm and loved.

In mid-February, I laid in the dark with Jamie and asked the question that burned daily in my brain; when do we leave for the new world? We spoke quietly and Jamie instructed me to pack a trunk for each of us and be ready to leave as soon as passage could be secured. I kissed him over and over again, crying with my relief. Murtagh would secure our passage and he was leaving for the docks the next day.

Jamie had an Aunt in North Carolina and he had received word from her that we were all welcome and she would pray us safe to our new home. I could see Jamie’s heart breaking and I held him to me as often as possible. He spent more time outside on the property and I would find him watching the sunset, alone, with his sadness. I told him we would come back after a time and regain our wonderful life atLallybroch. Sometimes it was enough to lift his spirits and sometimes it wasn’t.

Snow covered the land until late February, and I was finally able to get through the trail to the bottom of the gorge. I searched for the blue rock for as long as I dared before returning home disappointed. Murtagh made his third trip to the docks as he had been unsuccessful so far. Again he returned empty-handed and my worry was blooming into a continuous panic. All of the treasures from the house were buried in the priest hole and the trunks were packed and ready. The voyage to America was a dangerous journey with sickness and treachery. If a mother got sick during the passage; she was thrown over and her children followed. This added another layer of fear to my days. I didn’t care. I just wanted Jamie on a ship sailing away from Scotland and I hardly cared the direction.

Jamie visited each tenant’s home and spoke with the family about the coming war and what was likely to happen after. He left their homes with the women crying and the men pacing. It was very unpleasant, and he would cling to me that night and claim my body to help him forget.

One day in early March, Jamie kissed me and left for his chores. It was a lovely day and I dressed Faith in warm clothes, and we spent some time outside in the fresh air. I helped Misses Crook in the garden preparing for seed we would never see sprout and I worried like I did every day.

Once again, Murtagh returned with no passage booked for us and I excused myself to fall apart in our room. I cried until I noticed the light waning and ran to the window to look for Jamie. Where was he? It was long past his usual time to get home and the sun was setting fast. I paced in our room until Misses Crook knocked on the door.

“Should I hold dinner for the Laird, Misses?”

“No, let’s go ahead and eat. Leave the pot on the fire to stay warm for Jamie.”

I needed the feeling of normalcy tonight to keep my hysterics at bay. I will feel much better when I see my husband and then we start again tomorrow looking for a ship.

Murtagh had searched the fields for Jamie and came back freezing. I searched his eyes and he nodded side to side while I collapsed in a chair. Where are you, Jamie? Are you hurt? Please come home, I prayed. By ten o’clock there was no sign of Jamie and my tears were uncontrollable. I sent everyone to bed and stoked the fire so the house would be warm when Jamie came home.

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years

Note

Since you didn't get this request on my bday because Tumblr sucks.. Some cute bday fluff/possible smut with Det Cutie Pants? Please and thank you. 😘

SO BELATED, but I hope it’s worth the wait 😘 Love you, sweetness! And, um, this gets pretty filthy toward the end (aka smut warning).

Early in your relationship, you learned the flexibility and patience required to be with a police officer, especially one as dedicated as your husband. Special dates like anniversaries, birthdays, and sometimes even holidays became fluid and your family accepted this as your version of normal.

So, even though Baxter had to work on your actual birthday, a few weeks later, he had planned a special night out to celebrate.

“Have you seen my tie? The dark blue one that goes with this suit?”

You went into your shared closet, running your hand over Baxter’s backside, giving it a squeeze, before you reached for another blue tie, this one with silver polka dots.

“Live on the wild side, baby.”

Bax chuckled and pressed a kiss to your wrist as he pulled the tie from your fingers. He gave your underwear-clad ass a playful smack as you moved away to pull your new, cherry-red dress off the hanger.

The sound of the doorbell made your eyes widen and you glanced in panic at your husband.

“That’s the sitter—”

“I got it,” Bax said as he adjusted his tie and grabbed his jacket. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

You rushed into the bathroom to finish getting ready, and once you descended the stairs, you were greeted by a low whistle from your husband and an adorable smattering of applause from your kiddos.

“Mommy you look SO pretty,” your daughter said in a rush of excitement.

After doling out goodnight-be-good kisses and hugs, you slid your arm into Baxter’s and let him lead you to the car. The restaurant was about a forty-five-minute drive, but you were looking forward to spending this quiet time with your husband.

“You do look SO pretty, mommy,” Baxter said as he reached over to grip your thigh, the edge of his hand brushing the silky material of your dress.

“I miss them already, but …”

“But?”

“I’ve missed you, just you, so much. I feel selfish.”

“There’s nothing wrong with us wanting a night for just us. You give everything to our kids, baby. We’re a happy, loving family because of you. You deserve a night, that’s just about you—whatever you want, whatever you need.”

You sighed and closed your eyes. When you opened them a moment later, you looked at your sweet husband and pushed away your feelings of guilt, resolving to enjoy your birthday celebration.

“We’re a happy, loving family because of you, too. I know you feel guilty when work keeps you away, but we are so proud of you.”

Baxter’s mouth was turned slightly down as he kept his eyes ahead, his hand moving slightly on the wheel as he signaled to switch lanes.

“Everything I do is because I want to make a safer place in the world for my family—is that selfish?”

“It’s not selfish. Making a safer place for us, means making a safer place for everyone else, too.”

Baxter’s lips turned up in a smile as he shot you a glance.

“I love you.”

“Can’t wait for you to show me how much,” you said twisting in your seat to reach over and run your hand over your husband’s lap, his bulge just too tempting to pass up in his perfectly fitted suit.

“Save the 10-23 for later, baby,” he said as you leaned back into your seat with a huff of laughter.

* *The Restaurant* *

Reaching up to smooth the back of your hair, you could feel Baxter’s eyes on you as you followed the host to your table. You knew your body in that dress was driving him crazy, and you didn’t bother to hide your self-satisfaction, knowing he was going to get just as much out of your birthday as you were.

The restaurant was a softly lit, charming little place tucked out on the edge of the city. The tables were simplistic with no cloth on top, relying instead on the aesthetic appeal of the soft-honey colored, wide-grain wood. A row of tea-light candles flickered in the middle of the table, nestled inside of their golden-hued, geometricly shaped holders.

Baxter was always stunningly handsome, but there was something about the way his skin looked in candlelight that drove you a little wild.

The host pulled out your chair and you sat, Baxter undoing the button of his suit jacket as he settled into his own seat.

You talked and laughed over dinner with that comfortable familiarity that only comes with time. And when you were sure you couldn’t eat one more bite, you leaned back in your chair, dabbing at your mouth with your napkin, declaring, “That was fantastic.”

“I hope you saved room for dessert,” Baxter said, his blue eyes dark and dancing with the reflected light of the candles.

You bit your lip and leaned toward him, your voice a purr as you said, “You mean we’re having dessert here, in public? How very criminal of you, Detective.”

Your husband’s grin widened as he reached under the table to give your thigh a squeeze, his large, warm hand roving just a bit higher than public decorum allowed, his eyes darting over your shoulder and his smile turning into a crooked grin as he explained, “I meant the chocolate cake they’re bringing out of the kitchen right now.”

“What?” you said dumbly.

“Happy birthday!” your waiter said cheerfully as he set the decadent miniature cake in front of you, tiny sparklers already lit and burning down as your mouth dropped open.

You knew you were blushing as you shook your head, delighted by the sweet surprise.

Baxter pulled out his phone.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said softly as he took a few photos of you grinning behind the flickering cake and pretending to blow out the sparklers.

“I actually don’t know if I have room for this,” you said, your eyebrows arched as your eyes warred with your stomach.

“We can take it back to the hotel with us,” Baxter countered, not looking at you as he dropped the second part of your surprise.

“So, that’s it! A night—”

“More importantly a morning—”

“All to ourselves! Bax—that’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Your husband shook his head, his dark hair glinting in the candlelight.

“You deserve so much more than this, Y/N.”

“Don’t,” you said, reaching out to take his cheek in your hand, your thumb brushing across his lips. “You’ve already given me the world.”

He smiled before his tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. Then, he picked up the fork on the dessert plate and cut a small piece of the warm, gooey cake. He brought the fork to your lips and smiled, “One bite?”

You made a show of opening your mouth and wrapping your lips around the fork, never breaking eye contact as Baxter fed you a bite.

“You’re going to taste so sweet for me,” he rumbled, not at all talking about that bite of cake.

You shifted in your chair, praying the check was on its way.

* *The Hotel* *

One high heel had been discarded by the door, its mate upside-down in the bathroom.

A man’s dress shoe was at the edge of the bed, but its mate was nowhere to be seen.

A dress, much too expensive to be crumpled on the floor, was mixed up with a man’s dress shirt, now missing a button, and a suit jacket was dangling precariously on the edge of a king-sized bed.

The only piece of clothing that survived your frenzied rush to undress was Baxter’s pants, which were draped over the chair closest to the bed.

Baxter was already fucking you from behind, your head dangerously close to banging off the headboard, which was thumping rhythmically into the wall as you fought against outright screaming with pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, fuck!” he groaned.

The phone rang and you growled in frustration, grabbing it and yanking it out of the wall, tossing it across the room, not caring as it hit the sofa and bounced.

Baxter’s pace stuttered and you turned to scowl at him, but your shoulders started shaking with laughter as you realized it was because he was laughing, his hands relaxing on your hips.

He bent his body over yours, hugging you tightly as he pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“If it were the kids, they’d call our cellphones!” you protested.

Baxter’s silent laughter stilled as he said, “Have I neglected you this badly these past few months?”

“I was just really in the moment,” you said, pulling forward to flop onto your back and look at your husband’s glistening cock.

“Well where were we then, huh?” he said as his hips settled between yours and his lips kissed your neck.

As he worked his way up, he slowly shifted and slid back into you. You wrapped your legs around him and the two of you writhed together, slow and teasing.

“Baby—I need more,” you said from beneath him, lifting your head to bite gently at his shoulder, your mind unwilling to forget how good it felt to have him pounding into you from behind.

Baxter’s hands squeezed your breasts, his fingers kneading into the flesh as he pressed them together so he could suck hard on each nipple before releasing them with a pop and a bounce.

He pulled out of you and immediately replaced his cock with his fingers, making you gasp.

“Such a needy birthday girl,” he said as he slid in and out of you, curling up to stroke your sweet spot.

You clutched at the pillows around you, the crisp white sheets having long been loosened and twisted.

“Look how swollen you are,” he continued. “So desperate to come. On my fingers? On my cock? My face? Tell me what you want, birthday girl?”

A garbled noise of pleasure fought its way out of your throat.

You ground down onto his fingers, your body flushing as your climax neared.

“I want to come on your pretty face,” you hissed.

Baxter smirked and slowed his fingers as he dipped his head between your thighs, his tongue immediately laving at your clit, flicking quickly over it for a few seconds before he closed his lips around it.

You twisted into him, one hand grabbing at his hair and pulling hard enough to make him groan around you.

And with the vibration from his groan, you pressed his face harder into you as he sucked and you came, your thighs tightening on either side of his cheeks as he let you fuck his face while his cock leaked onto the sheets at your panted curses.

Your hand fell from his hair as you sunk back into the mattress, but you let out a tiny yelp of surprise as you were immediately jostled to the edge of the bed. Bax lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and pushed your other leg toward the bed, hooking your knee. His fingers dug into the flesh there to hold you wide open for him.

“Not done yet, baby,” Baxter growled as slammed back into you, your body trembling into another plane of existence as he filled your too-tight, too-hot, so wet pussy.

He moaned, long and low, and his eyes rolled back as his moth opened.

He didn’t move again until he bent to look at you, his beautiful, big blue eyes locking onto yours as he leaned forward, his hand coming to rest at the base of your throat.

“How hard do you want it?” he asked with a tender squeeze of your throat and a tiny thrust of his hips.

“Hard,” you growled.

Baxter pushed into you once, twice, teasingly slow before he shot you the wickedest grin you’d ever seen.

And then he started fucking you without mercy as his body glistened with a light sheen of sweat. He was in fantastic shape, but he had to work so hard to hold off his orgasm you could practically see the battle raging across his features. It made you feel powerful and damn sexy to know that you were the reason he wanted to lose control, the reason he had to fight so hard not to come.

He leaned even further into you, your leg now flush against his sweaty body as he held it wrapped up in both arms as he slammed into you, the sound of rough sex acting as a musical accompaniment to the chorus of moans uttered by you and by Baxter.

Your second climax was sofuckingclose and Baxter could tell by the flush that began to color your cheeks and by the way you tossed your head back, your throat bared, your hands yanking at the sheets, the pillows, whatever the hell you could reach. You could feel your own fluid leaking out of you, around his dick as your orgasm built to its breaking point.

“Come, baby, come for me. Come on my cock,” Baxter intoned.

This orgasm came from a place deep inside of your body, and you were certain that if you hadn’t already thrown the hotel phone across the room, it would be ringing off the hook as you screamed through this unbelievable wave of pleasure.

You were barely even cognizant of Baxter pulling out of you and stroking his cock as he came all over your chest and your stomach; the sound of his gruff voice moaning, distant as he let himself go.

When the bed bounced as he collapsed next to you, you shook off the high of your orgasm and turned your head to look at him, a stupid-silly grin on your face. You made a noise of unabashed delight as you shivered and ran a finger through one of the cooling ropes of his cum.

Baxter was the perfect picture of debauchery, his mouth open as he steadied his breathing, his dark curls a mess with the hair at his temples sweaty and even more wildly curled as he reached up to run a hand through his hair and to swipe at the tears that had gathered at the edge of his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” you said, wide-eyed as your brain tried to remember when the two of you had fucked this good.

With a hum of satisfaction, Baxter forced himself up and off the bed, quickly returning from the bathroom with a damp hand towel.

He put one knee on the bed as he leaned over you to clean up his mess, laughing softly as he said, “Whoops,” and swiped at a dob of cum near your ear.

You giggled and stretched, your body still feeling weightless and well-loved.

Baxter tossed the towel toward the bathroom and leaned down to take your jaw in his strong grip. He kissed you with such genuine affection, it made your heart swell.

His lips hovered over yours as he quietly said, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“I’ll fucking say,” you replied, the two of you collapsing into a fit of laughter as you cuddled together, naked and warm, wrapped up in the miles of memories you’d already made, humbled as you thought of the miles of memories yet to come.

Tag List

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#detective cutie pants #detective cutie pants x reader #female reader #little things fic #detective cutie pants smut #rami malek character

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pinguminicat · 3 years

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My review of IQ Accommodation Bankside Airbnb room

Diabolical and Torturous

I found myself in an awkward gap in between properties so needed a place to stay for a few (approx five) weeks. I was working remotely so needed a decent work space. A hotel booking for that long would have sent me broke. Colour me happy when I found IQ!

The room itself was ok (with caveats - see below). Great location, broadband access and shower pressure.

Now for which I WASN’T prepared…

The CONSTANT….INCESSANT…RELENTLESS….NEVER-ABATING…AGGRESSIVE…LOUD! BANGING! from the surrounding studio’s doors. All the livelong day (and…more importantly…night).

Here’s a recording of a 24 hour period, edited down to 45ish seconds. Recorded from the centre of the room. No volume or EQ adjustments made. https://youtu.be/X9o6eareNbg

I’m genuinely confounded. Surely these selfish little sociopaths (including some site staff) can hear how loud it is and wonder if EVERYONE ELSE can hear it? Surely they were taught how to coexist with fellow humans without blatantly and brutally intruding on the lives of others?

I could have asked to be moved to a different room but I could hear the doors slamming shut on the other floors.

I did complain about it and then took a massive grain of salt when they said they would ask the other “guests”/occupants to be more mindful when closing the doors. I found it rather amusing:

a) Their sheer naivety of asking people to be more considerate towards complete strangers

b) They thought I was deluded enough to think that point a would have any positive effect whatsoever

c) The “house manual” states “We ask that you keep noise to a minimum between 11 pm - 7 am. Please bear in mind that loud noise and disturbance outside of these hours is also a breach of your tenancy agreement” This was in no way upheld by the property managers. Is that then a breach of THEIR responsibility?

How a property, built specifically for ACCOMMODATION (it’s in the name) gets away with this is beyond belief.

Speaking of doors. Don’t open the one to the outside for fresh air, otherwise your room (and the basic, scratchy bed linen) will quickly be caked in dust from the neighbouring construction site. I’m not joking. Every breath intake was heavy with dust. You could literally feel it on your tongue. (and I don’t use the word “literally” lightly..or incorrectly) There is a Leyland not far, where you can purchase a plastic drop sheet to cover the bed though.

You’ll also be paying for the pleasure of having to dust the room multiple times of the day

With the door closed, the room quickly became stuffy and hot despite the thermostat being set to OFF.

Oh…but you WILL need to open that door to let out the daily odour of someone cooking what can only be described as burnt cabbage served on a coulis of urine.

Not just a distant odour. It’s standing there right in front of you, punching you in the nose.

Now, let’s get to the laundry facilities….

…The insufficiently equipped and bizarrely convoluted, Gestapo-like control of the laundry facilities. You have to request a card 24 hours in advance of using the facilities. It was actually more like 42 and 71 hours but who’s counting? Make sure that if life gets in the way (like finding a cake of dust all over the bed linens) ask the universe to give you 24…no, wait…42…no, wait…71 hours to prepare. I eventually was offered (after my suggestion) a card of my own to use….Finally! I was able to wash my clothes!……only to find that both (yep…only two for a building of over 100 rooms) available machines were being used BY THE SAME PERSON

No deliveries allowed….except for food. Amazon? No. Work-related equipment purchased by the employer? No. A leaving gift that my colleagues so kindly got for me? NO! There was NO mention of couriers in the “house manual” or under the house rules section of the Airbnb listing. People staying here for a few weeks and aren’t here for a holiday, just day-to-day life, including remote working should be allowed to have packages delivered. The students are allowed! How about the other people PAYING to stay here? Yes, Amazon have pick up points all over London, but not all items can be delivered to those. And most (reputable) non-Amazon companies don’t deliver to some anonymous collection point for high ticket items.

Side note: Seeing as this is primarily a student accommodation building (a mere footnote in the Airbnb description,) I was curious to see the price these rooms go for. The most basic one could cover the rent of a three bedroom house, still within the bounds of the M25. Man! These kids have wealthy parents! Ahhhh ok. Explains the door slamming and the selfish commandeering of the laundry facility.

I was so shocked at the price they (the uber-rich parents) pay, I almost coughed out a night’s worth of dust inhaled from the bed linen!

The moment I offloaded my work equipment, I cancelled the rest of my stay and booked a hotel room. This was a one-off situation for me (thank the deity of your choice)…If I hadn’t been weighed down with remote working office equipment and was in a better financial position, I would have left much earlier in my stay and found a hotel….or a tent in the middle of a busy roundabout…it would have been quieter.

“Do your research!” Ok. Lesson learned.

Not only would I NOT recommend this place to anyone. I would actively seek to stop people making the same mistake.

THIS PROPERTY SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO BE AN AIRBNB

Disgusted. Traumatised. I will never use Airbnb again.

The Room (these things would otherwise be passed off as quirks if the stay wasn’t so incredibly stressful):

Overly bright cold white lighting. On or off for the entire room. Think office space or hospital.

Cold white bedside light. Clearly these people haven’t heard of circadian rhythms. Built into the wall and meant to pop out. Give it 10 goes and you’ll get there. Bits of paint or plaster scraped over it.

White walls, white doors, white window blind, white bed linen. Again…think hospital.

No power points even in the vague vicinity of the bed.

The lightweight shower curtain billows in and takes up most of the shower space. Even weighing it down with shampoo bottles didn’t help.

Toilet roll holder was poorly fitted to the wall.

Red stain on the toilet seat

Also, why there’s a cabinet over the toilet rather than the sink is a little odd. Gravity will not be your friend here.

Scrape marks on the wall and microwave.

Surrounding of door to the room cracking and leaving flecks of paint on the floor (I found this one to be particularly ironic)

#airbnb #review #noise #door slam #iq #accommodation #iqaccommodation #london #southwark #bankside #myiqlife

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amydancepants-peralta · 5 years

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we’re the fortunate ones (spinning ‘round the sun) ☀️

Here is chapter one of my entry into the @b99fandomevents 2020 vision challenge: Peraltiago celebrating NYEs, throughout the years/seasons.

More to come soon ☺️ (ao3)

season one: with these things there’s no telling (we just have to wait and see)

The first time Amy Santiago spends her New Year’s Eve with Jake Peralta, it happens completely without her volition.

She had been working alongside Jake (and the other detectives at the nine-nine) for three years now, and until Captain McGintley decided to partner them up together, had been able to avoid sharing too many cases with him. Jake was, to use his own terms, a Lone Wolf - so determined to be the hero that ran in to save the day that he often left little to no regard for the consequences. It was entirely different to the way Amy preferred to operate, and it was just one of the reasons why they often butted heads.

But a few months ago McGintley had retired, and Captain Holt (aka, her RABBI) had taken charge, and now the two of them were getting assigned together on a steady basis.

To say her tolerance level had risen to an all-time high was an understatement.

When the call had come in about a major drug bust going down on the docks at New Years Eve, Amy had been torn between the desire to be part of the action and the urge to lay low and attend the party her best friend Kylie had organised. In the end, tactical operations had won out over beer pong with strangers, and by 8pm she was in an unmarked car with Detective Daniels, making just enough small talk to make the passing time bearable.

Until, Daniels got a personal call three hours in and had to leave, and Holt had called in the relief team. Which so happened to be Detective Peralta.

In all honesty, Amy tries her very best to not let out a defeated sigh as her louder than normal partner jumps into the car, slinging a backpack undoubtedly filled with unnaturally-coloured drinks and bags of candy coated in sugar into the footwell before bending his legs and collapsing onto the seat. His smile is bright, but then it always is, and when she hands him the second pair of binoculars Amy notices how cold his hands are.

“The docks are cold at night” he mutters without prompting, and as Amy looks over him he shrugs. “You’re my partner. Even if I wasn’t in the stakeout with you, I was going to be around.” It was an oddly mature thing for him to say, and she stares for a beat longer, blinking in confusion with her own binoculars still resting in her lap. Turning his attention to the docks in front of them, Jake gives Amy a glance from the side of his eyes before shifting uncomfortably in his seat, obviously aware of her staring, and after a minute Amy lifts her binoculars and points them directly at Jake.

The image is distorted, obviously. If she turned the dial in the middle a little, it would focus on the flurry of curls in his overgrown hair; but for now she waits, and it only takes a few seconds before he sighs.

“What are you doing, Santiago?”

She lowers the goggles, gripping them with her fingers as she stares her partner down. “I don’t get it.”

Jake turns to look at Amy, furrowing his brow and glancing at their surroundings before returning his attention to her. “See, how it works is … you point those things at the stuff that’s really far away, and they become bigger through the lens.”

“I don’t need you to explain telescopic imagery to me, Peralta.” Amy huffs, her exasperation obvious as she drops the binoculars to her lap, folding her arms to her chest accusingly. “I’m talking about you. You had the night off. You could be literally anywhere else in the city right now. Why were you waiting outside?”

Another shrug. “You’re my partner, and I thought you might have needed backup.”

“Nuh-uh. Not buying it.” Narrowing her eyes, she gasps as a realisation strikes her. “The bet! You know you’re going to lose, so you’re trying to steal these arrests from me.” Raising her hand, Amy points one neatly manicured finger at her partner. “Sabotage! That is the lowest of the lows, Peralta. You have every right to be nervous, because I am clearly going to win this bet, but taking them from me? Unbelievable.”

Jake rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief as Amy talks, and the look on his face only irritates her further. “Ah, firstly? I’m all for a little bit of fantasy, but making yourself believe that you’re going to win this bet is just foolish, Santiago. I am obviously the superior detective here. Secondly, I meant what I said earlier. You’re my partner. If you’re on a stakeout, I’m on a stakeout.” He pauses, feigning interest in the roof of the unmarked car they were in before muttering, “Holt is turning me into a better cop, or … whatever.”

Amy lets a silence fall over the two of them as she absorbs his last statement, hands fiddling distractedly with the strap on her binoculars. She wasn’t wrong - this whole evening had been completely out of character for him. But maybe his constant trips into the captain’s office were finally beginning to sink in; and maybe Jake was beginning to realise that as strong as they are on their own, they were far stronger as a team. She mumbles out a thank you, and he waves his hand at her, reaching for the car stereo and turning it on. Instantly, music blares from the speakers.

“Peralta!” she whispers, brushing his hand away from the knob and turning the volume down as her eyes dart around the docks for anyone that might have heard something. “You’ll blow our cover!”

“It’s nearly midnight, Santiago. We were going to miss the countdown.”

“The only thing we were going to miss was the handover taking place, you doofus!” He stares her down, this time holding his own against her withering gaze, and finally she sighs in defeat. “Alright, fine. We can listen to the radio. But on LOW, Peralta.”

He rolls his eyes again, and honestly sometimes he is just like a child, muttering “Fine, mom” as he turns the dial ever so slightly towards a higher volume. The music is gone, and two disc jockeys are talking in it’s place, reminding all their listeners that midnight was only three minutes away.

“Perfect timing!” Jake calls out, scooting his butt to the back of his seat as he leans down into the footwell, unzipping the backpack he’d dumped down there earlier and pulling out two small white cardboard boxes. Amy’s brows knit in confusion as she recognises the logo on the box - these were from Mia’s Brooklyn Bakery; a tiny little store about three blocks from her apartment, and her favourite place to sneak in a sweet treat. How Jake knew that, was something she didn’t understand.

“That’s my - ”

“Your favourite bakery?” Jake interrupts, smiling when Amy nods quickly. “Yeah, I figured. I’ve noticed the box one or two times when you’ve brought in a snack from home, and I googled the place a little while ago.” Huh. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad detective after all. “And I just thought, being on duty and all, we can’t really have champagne to celebrate the new year … but there’s nothing in the guidelines about cupcakes, right?”

His smile is so sweet, and Amy can’t help but return it. “Right.” Jake hands her a box, smile breaking out into a grin as he settles back into his seat, and Amy can feel his eyes on her as she opens the lid. The cupcake is vanilla, swirled with a sweet pink buttercream and tiny glittery sparkles littering the top. It looks delicious, and is exactly what she needs right now. “This looks amazing,” she states, looking over at Jake as she lifts the treat out of it’s box. He’s done the same already, and holds his up to hers in a silent cheers, peeling back the lining as the radio announcer reminds them there is one last minute until the countdown to 2014.

She takes a bite of the cupcake, licking off a little bit of frosting that remained on her lips and raising her eyebrows in surprise as she begins to feel tiny bursts inside her mouth. Quickly, she turns towards Jake, swallowing as she cries out, “Pop rocks?!”

“Fireworks,” he corrects her with a wink, taking his own oversized bite and giggling as the candy gets to work. “If we couldn’t get to the fireworks, then the fireworks were just going to have to come to us, Santiago.”

His enthusiasm is contagious, and Amy watches from her seat as he takes a swig of the orange soda he’d pulled from his bag to wash the cake down. It was different, seeing him in this light. Tonight, Peralta was more than just another detective from the precinct. He was her partner, who had sacrificed his New Years Eve to wait out in the cold, holding delicious snacks on standby and turning himself into the bright light that had warmed up her otherwise mediocre evening. He was still a man-child, but perhaps a slightly more mature man-child than she’d given him credit for, and … if she was being completely honest with herself? Just a little bit handsome.

Jake grins over at Amy as he returns his drink to the cup holder, and Amy can’t help but grin right back as she takes another bite, this time prepared for the miniature explosions as they pop against her tongue. A childlike giggle threatens to escape, and eagerly eats the remaining piece before the feeling fades. “This is so good!”

A terrible cover of Auld Lang Syne begins playing on the radio, interrupting their feast, and Jake wipes at the crumbs surrounding his mouth. He’s quiet as the song plays in the background, chewing on his lower lip before twisting towards her, resting his back against the car window. “Happy New Year, Amy.”

There’s a bunch of tiny explosions in her throat, and Amy wants to blame it on the cupcake but it just might be the tiny glimmer of something in Jake’s eye. Taking a deep breath, Amy pauses before smiling back at her partner. “Happy New Year, Jake.”

The song cover turns into a dance mix, blasting through the tiny speakers as the DJ obviously raises the volume in studio, and both detectives screw their face up in disgust, Jake’s hand reaching the power button first. They sigh in relief as a silence falls over the vehicle, and quickly Jake reaches for the binoculars still in his lap, holding them against his face and switching seamlessly back to Detective Mode. “So no sign of our perps yet, huh?”

Amy clears her throat, mirroring Jake’s actions with her own pair of binoculars and aiming them towards the shipping containers set up along the edge of the dock. “No, I think the intel might be a bust.” Pulling the lens away slightly, she glances over at Jake before facing forward again. “Looks like you’ll have to figure out another way to beat me at this bet, Peralta.”

He scoffs, a loud psh sound falling from his mouth. “Please. It’s you that needs to beat me, Santiago. In all seriousness, you really should be prepared for the worst date of your life.”

She can’t find the right thing to say in response (letting out a choked laugh instead), and so they get back to surveillance in silence, wrapping up the operation when Holt calls them in an hour later.

It’s another two weeks before the bet is over and Amy is forced to concede defeat. And despite all of her reservations, she finds that a date with Jake Peralta and his crushing debt wasn’t nearly as bad as she let herself think it would be.

#FLUFF TO COME I PROMISE!#b99 fandom events #b99 fanfic #Peraltiago New Years Eves #peraltiago fic #peraltiago fanfiction #myfic #happy January 14th!

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losille2000 · 4 years

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Hoot and Howl, Chapter 2

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 2/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well… about that… RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks to everyone for being awesome with the first chapter back. Enjoy this one. The OFC’s name is pronounced Nay-shaw.

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 2

Nascha stood over the bubbling concoction in her cauldron, closing her eyes to the steam rising and curling pleasantly around her chin and cheeks. She’d spent too much time outside in the forest last night, and her skin still felt tight from the cold weather. The soothing warmth was just what her body needed, though it was not enough to rejuvenate the stores of energy she had depleted during the exercise. She only hoped she could make it until the end of the month and her next scheduled volunteer visit to Boston. Falling off the wagon now was not an option. Not without a suitable replacement for her extremely specific needs.

A disgusted teenaged voice filled Nascha’s head then, drowning out her nagging thoughts. I hope you know I hate when you make that, Nae.

Nascha chuckled and glanced back at the fluffy feline lounging on the cat tree across the kitchen. The cat momentarily paused from painstakingly grooming her luxurious white fur—long enough to glare in accusation at the chuckling person.

It smells like dog breath, the voice continued.

“Well, yours smells like old tuna,” Nascha reminded, “so you have no place to talk.”

Ugh, whatever.

Ash loved her bored and disgusted teenaged one-liners. The cat could give any teenaged human a run for their money in that department, but there were certainly times when Nascha wished other people could hear it, too, just to understand the pain associated with listening to it all the time. Not that anyone would ever believe what they were hearing. They were more likely to check themselves into an institution than believe that it was possible for a cat to talk back to them. But cats did talk back. All animals did. They understood human languages just fine. The trouble was that Great Spirit had taken away the ability for the animals to respond in kind because of a terrible indiscretion long, long ago.

Or so the story went.

It didn’t really matter to her, because she still heard it. She heard all of it. The squirrels, the birds, the lizards and snakes… she heard them. This was her curse.

Nascha placed the large wooden spoon she’d been using into the ceramic holder on the stovetop, thinking once again how nice it was to have modern conveniences like electricity and gas to power her needs and keep a constant heat on her work. The ancient medicine woman who taught her this recipe while she’d still been living on the reservation had refused to cook it anywhere else but in a cauldron over an open fire. Maybe it ultimately changed the efficacy of the potion, not using the inherent energy of an open flame to create it, but Nascha was a modern witch. Modern witches innovated. After all, innovation was the only way she’d been able to survive off the reservation that had hidden her—and hurt her—for so long. She was pretty damn good at it all by now.

A soft electronic chime drew Nascha’s attention away from her thoughts. She reached for her cell phone on the opposite counter as a notification alert popped up on the screen. The motion sensor on her front door had detected some type of movement. Clicking over to the video capture, she saw an old beat up pickup barreling down the driveway at a speed almost too high to take the curve into the clearing where her house sat. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, but whoever was driving clearly had an emergent purpose.

She watched a moment longer as a very hairy and muddy man jumped out of the truck, reached inside, and withdrew a dog. Well, that explained the rushing in on a Sunday afternoon.

“Where’s Smoke?” Nascha asked Ash.

How should I know? Ash said.

“Will you please find him?”

Ash rolled over onto her back. If she had the ability to roll her eyes, she would have done that, too. He’s probably watching Star Wars again. Nerd.

“I have to sit with this for another minute or two,” Nascha said, motioning to the pot. She did not want to waste the ingredients she’d used by overcooking it. Getting the same ingredients would require a visit to a grocery store or the local occult shop; store-bought ingredients never adequately replaced those she picked herself during her nightly exercises. “Please go see what’s wrong.”

I hate going out there, Ash responded. Humans are all idiots.

“Ash…”

The cat stood up and stretched languidly, clearly unconcerned, like a senator at an impeachment trial.

Nascha grabbed the cat—carefully, of course—and set her on the ground. “I would like to remind you of our deal. I agree to feed you, catch small rodents for you, and let you sleep in a warm bed. In return you occasionally help me out around the clinic.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ash said, flicking her tail unhappily, but walking toward the door into the hallway. And if I don’t, you’ll turn me into a human. Blech.

“And don’t you forget it!” Nascha called as the door swung shut, even though Ash knew it to be an empty threat. No one, magical or not, could change another creature into something else unless they were born with the genetic ability to do that. Ash was as feline as they came, and she would stay that way until she used all her nine lives.

Nascha returned to her cauldron, but in her argument with Ash, she’d neglected it too long. It was now splitting and congealing into a gelatinous black goo giving off a putrid smell, not unlike a dog’s breath with periodontal disease. Just like Ash had said. She sighed heavily. “Well, so much for that.”

She grumbled to herself and pulled the cauldron off the heat to cool down before she could clean it out and start over. Smoke finally appeared in a feathery flurry, landing on his perch.

There’s a guy outside with a dog, Smoke intoned, but then made a chirping noise not native to an African Grey.

Nascha looked at him, “I thought you were watching a movie?”

Smoke bobbed his head and clicked his tongue before speaking aloud, “Alexa turn TV off.”

The house became more silent and Nascha looked at her other housemate. “Go tell them to wait. Ash is already out there.”

Was it wise to send her out? Smoke asked.

Nascha shrugged. “I’ll be right there.”

Smoke, who was quite a bit more dutiful than Ash, unless his favorite TV shows were on, immediately soared out of the room to take care of business. Nascha washed her hands and checked her appearance in a tiny mirror before she reached the door that led into the surgery suite. Ash sat there flicking her tail, annoyed and waiting to give a report.

“So?”

The idiot was attacked by a bear. Name’s Dodger.

“Thanks.” Nascha frowned, reaching for the waiting room door. A bear? Hardly looked like a bear attack from the video image. But he wasn’t the first patient to exaggerate how he’d been injured, and he wasn’t going to be the last. “Stay close in case I need you.”

Ash jumped onto the chair in the corner of the room and lifted her own paw to lick lightly. She didn’t care. And honestly, Ash wasn’t going to be much help anyway. Only the bipedal assistant that worked for Nascha Monday through Friday would be any help— seeing as it was Sunday, Nascha worked with what she had. Because she was innovative… not just as a witch, but as a veterinarian. Still, this emergency would be the first true test of her weekend “help.” She didn’t get a lot of emergencies out here in the middle of nowhere.

Nascha breathed in deeply and let it out as she opened the door to survey the situation before her. She swept her attention to the pathetic looking brown and white dog, the bloody rag around his paw, and the human male who looked completely beside himself. By way of introduction, she said, “I’m so sorry! I was in the middle of something that couldn’t be put down.”

The hairy, mud-caked man looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. Even so, his spirit gave the room a frenetic energy like a geyser bubbling and about to blow. Everyone knew it was about to happen, could sense it, but it was the sickening anxiety and bated breath before the eruption that bothered her. She’d never felt it to this degree.

“My dog, he—”

She swooped into action, flicking her eyes down to Dodger. She hummed and reached for him. “Let me take him back and have a look.”

“Can’t I go back?” The man asked, reluctantly handing the dog over to her.

She cradled the dog to her chest; Dodger didn’t struggle as she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay, Dodger.”

Dodger looked up at her as he snuggled into her arms and said in the most delightful old-time Southern drawl, How y’all know my name?

“You look as white as a ghost,” Nascha said then to the man, ignoring the canine’s drawling voice. She got it. This dog very clearly meant a lot to the guy, but she had procedures. And her procedures included not giving someone a reason to call an institution when she started talking to animals. “You need to sit down and calm down. You’re not going to be any help to your dog or to me if you’re freaking us both out during an exam. Let me look at the injury and stop any active bleeding. Then we’ll talk.”

Nascha did not wait for approval and swept back into the surgery where she set Dodger down on the metal exam table. “Dodger, what’s your human’s name?”

Chris, he responded, big brown eyes meeting hers. Y’all really understand me, don’t ya?

She chuckled. “Yes, I do. Now. Were you really attacked by a bear?”

Dodger whined and shifted just enough to hold out his injured paw. It was terrible, Doc. He was fixin’ for a fight.

Nascha carefully unwrapped Dodger’s paw to find that the bleeding had stopped, and under all the mud, a long laceration across the side of the paw consistent with a tear of some kind originating from his dewclaw… but definitely not from a bear fang or claw. “If a bear had done this, you would have lost your paw.”

I’m tellin’ y’all. A huge brown one!

“Do I need to ask Chris?”

Dodger whined again. After some hesitation, he looked away and moaned forlornly. Fine! A fish jumped and smacked me in the face. I fell.

Nascha laughed. “And?”

I dunno. It happened when I fell off the rock into the river.

“Alright,” Nascha said. “Do you think it’s safe to call your human in?”

Nah, I reckon he’s ‘bout as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now.

She couldn’t hold in her laughter at his expression. How had a Southern dog gotten all the way up here to Massachusetts? His owner did not have the same slow drawl. In fact, he’d sounded distinctly Bostonian in the few words they’d exchanged in the waiting room. “How about I get it all cleaned up and stapled, then call him in?”

How can y’all understand me?

Nascha did not have time to explain the ins and outs of her abilities. Though this wound was not life threatening, it did need attention sooner rather than later. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Um… excuse me?”

Both she and Dodger froze, turning their attention to the doorway. The door remained closed, but judging from the voice, he was directly on the other side of it. “Yes?”

“May I please see my dog?”

Nascha exchanged a look with Dodger, who then laid back on the table, resigned to not getting an answer right away. “If you promise not to pass out.”

“I can handle a little blood,” he remarked as he stepped into the room.

She noticed, quite suddenly, that he took up a lot of physical space. More than she had realized out in the waiting room. He wasn’t overly tall, but at least six foot, he was taller than her. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. And he was a mess, covered in blood, mud and likely freezing. His brain, however, had not really noticed that last bit because he was so worried about his dog; she could still feel the turbulent energy rolling off him. He was in shock, or pretty near to it; now it was a matter of two patients, rather than one.

“The good news is that he’s fine,” she said. “Bad news is that I need to do major clean up and staple his leg.”

“Nothing broken? He’ll be okay?”

She nodded. “He tore his skin, mostly. Once I get it cleaned up, I’ll have a better picture of everything, but it otherwise seems fine. I can do a radiograph if you would like to make sure nothing’s broken. But from palpating it, I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. And Dodger didn’t complain.”

The man’s whole demeanor deflated. He crumpled onto the bench beside Ash, who had been as silent as a dormouse through the whole process. “Thank god. I thought—”

“I am also worried about you,” Nascha added, coming around the table to crouch down in front of him. She set a comforting hand on one of his he had rested on his knees, but instantly regretted the decision. Touching humans was always a risk for her. This was different, though. A different she couldn’t quite fathom. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it,” she replied, securing her hold on him. He turned his palm up, grasping her fingers like they were a tether to reality. She noted that his were mostly soft hands—office worker hands—but there was a degree of roughness there that suggested he might have hobbies that took him away from a desk. His fingers were long, the nails bitten but not to the extent that they were horrible to look at. As a matter of fact, they looked like very pleasing hands and she had the brief irrational thought that they probably took great care of whomever he loved.

She’d held a lot of hands in her time, but most of those were gnarled and old, at the end of their journey when their owners asked her for assistance. His, in contrast, were vital. Alive. There was nothing sick or dying about him. Freezing cold from the elements, yes, but strong and alive, nonetheless.

Nascha wanted to hold on longer, not least of all because she now felt his frenzied energy oozing into her skin and up her arm, curling and mixing with what was left from her last trip to Boston.

It had been too long since she’d fed. The exercise in the woods last night had taken too much out of what little she had left. And he… he was potent.

She wanted to moan in delight as his energy began to fill the empty voids within her, but clamped her lips shut at the last second.

That would have been embarrassing.

The man released a shuddering breath and laugh-groaned when he looked down at himself, the tension releasing from his broad shoulders. Slowly, he turned his attention up to hers. Soft blue-gray eyes with the longest eyelashes blinked back at her. They were the kindest blue eyes she’d ever beheld. “I am a little cold.”

She finally succeeded in pulling her hand out of his, severing the connection, reluctant to let go. It would have been so easy to hold on for longer. The consequences of that, though? She shuddered at the thought. She’d made a promise to herself a long time ago to never take without asking—or being asked—first. Technically, she’d already broken it.

“How about a blanket, a fire, and some coffee? That is, if you feel comfortable enough sitting in my living room while I work on Dodger.”

Never mind that she did not feel comfortable with his intrusion. Having someone around meant she had to watch what she said and what she did. It was a mental load she wasn’t prepared to handle. Still, the words had come tumbling freely from her lips. She silently hoped he would decline and instead go back to the regular waiting room.

He surprised her by saying, “I would love it.”

Nascha eased back up to her full height, doing a quick mental survey of her living quarters. Had she left anything out from her work earlier that would be too difficult to explain? The cauldron was definitely an issue, but it was close enough to Halloween. She could explain it away as experimenting on something for decorations or a Haunted House or something, though she never decorated for the holiday because she didn’t celebrate it.

“Good. Let me put Dodger in a kennel and I’ll get you set up,” she finally said as she turned back to the dog.

Dodger yipped at her. I don’t need to be put away.

Nascha shook her head. “You’ll be fine for a little while, Dodger.”

No, I will not.

“He’s fine,” the man, Chris, said through a shaky laugh. “He hides out in his kennel back home when he wants to get away from me.”

Yankee traitor, Dodger mumbled.

“Does he want to, uh, get away from you a lot?” Nascha asked by way of conversation.

She began to scoop the canine back into her arms, but Chris held out a hand to stop her. “I can carry him.”

Nascha picked up Dodger anyway. “I’m stronger than I look…follow me.”

She pushed her way out of the exam room and into the back work area of her home. The previous owner—also a veterinarian—had built this addition on long ago to house his country practice. It consisted of one exam room, one clean room for surgeries, and a small lab equipped for only the most basic of pathology tests. The stainless-steel kennels lined one wall of the lab.

“You have a nice little setup back here,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, not elaborating. She could say that the previous owner had given it to her as a gift, but then she’d have to explain why he had given it to her. And that would be impossible to explain without scaring the shit out of anyone. Even though Dodger’s owner had calmed down considerably since she had held his hand and siphoned off his frenzy, she did not want to create another problem that would bring the anxiety back.

She couldn’t be trusted to hold his hand again. Next time, she might not be able to let go.

Nascha turned her thoughts to the heavy animal in her arms. She cooed softly at Dodger as she placed the dog inside a clean kennel on top of a thin cushion. On top of him, she wrapped a large towel to help him conserve some warmth before she could get back. Dodger accepted her kindness by licking her wrist and letting out a heaving sigh. He didn’t say anything else.

“You’re sure he’ll be fine?” Chris asked as she closed the door.

“In two weeks, you won’t even know there was a problem,” she said. “Except for the hair that will still be growing back.”

“Okay,” he breathed out.

Nascha gave him a small smile that she hoped was comforting and set her hand on his back, in the middle of his flannel-covered shoulders. It was a familiar move she wouldn’t normally have made, but he seemed appreciative of it. Maybe she was, too, now that she could feel the hard sinew beneath the damp flannel covering his torso. Office worker hands or not, the man clearly did many physical things with his body.

“How about we get you warm now?” she asked.

He nodded and shivered. It was enough of an answer for her, as she motioned for him to follow her down the hallway toward the living portion of the house.

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