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#but i’ve never heard anyone involved in the show say that they don’t like the idea
metalcorebarbie · 2 years
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Do you have any fic recs for the 9-1-1 boys? I'll admit, I've never watched the show but they are everywhere and I need some sort of validation of them getting together, even if the show hasn't (yet?). Is that weird?
Okay, this has been sitting in my inbox for SO LONG, I apologise!! I haven’t been very organised with what I’ve read and originally I wanted to do more research and go through my bookmarks but I don’t think I’ll ever have the time to do that in the near future shjnhj SO. I don’t know if all of these will make sense if you haven’t watched the show but I’ll rec the fics I’ve read recently that I loved a lot.
In The Gray You Are Golden by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels • a zombie apocalypse AU, this was so good and played really well with canon elements
if it weren’t for second chances by alasse • an AU where Bobby adopts a teenage Buck, this was very sweet and healing
you give yourself away by woodchoc_magnum • season 6 spec fic, Buck spirals into breakdown, this broke my heart and then put it back together
this must be the place by euadnes • an AU where Buck gets shot too, very beautifully written fic about healing and recovery
The Best Lie is a Truth (My Best Mask is My Face) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels • fake relationship, love a good fake relationship fic, this was excellent
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dirtyvulture · 6 months
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Envy and Venom
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4190
AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)
DAY 1
“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 
“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 
“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 
Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 
“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”
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Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 
The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 
“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”
“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.
“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.
“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”
“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  
“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”
“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 
Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 
You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.
“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”
“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”
“I bet.”
“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).
“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”
You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”
***********************************************************************
You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 
“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.
“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.
“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.
“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”
“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 
“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”
“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 
Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 
“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.
“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 
“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”
“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.
“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”
“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.
***********************************************************************
Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 
You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 
“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”
“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”
Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   
You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  
“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 
“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 
“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”
It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 
She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 
“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 
“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 
She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”
Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 
“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.
You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  
“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”
“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 
“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.
“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 
“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 
“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.
“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”
Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.
Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 
“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 
“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.
You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 
“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.
Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.
“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 
She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.
“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.
“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.
“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.
Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.
There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.
“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.
***********************************************************************
The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.
You were too easy.
When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.
As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.
After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.
Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.
***********************************************************************
DAY 2
When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.
From Tony: You fucked up, dude.
He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Everything clicks to you now.
“Oh, fuck.”
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AN: Click here for Part 2!
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arienotari · 9 months
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
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sunny44 · 8 months
Text
Co-parenting (Part 1)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex wife!reader
Warnings: Carlos being a bitch, fighting and maybe other things.
Summary: Co-parenting is never easy but y/n never though it would be so hard.
Next Chapter
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Carlos and I got divorced 2 years ago, and currently, we share custody of our daughter, which means I have her since Carlos travels a lot due to racing, so every weekend he’s free, he comes and picks up Maeve.
But this time I had a very unpleasant surprise.
Being famous, I was always aware of what was happening with Carlos, even if I didn’t want to, and a few months ago, rumors came out that he was with some model, and when we separated, we made an agreement that any person who entered romantically into our lives, we would introduce to each other before involving that person in our daughter’s life.
But it seems Carlos had a problem when it comes to him.
I crossed my arms watching Carlos and the model girlfriend get out of the car and come towards my door, besides not notifying me about it, he simply brought her along without any prior discussion or approval.
The doorbell rang, and I walked to the front door, and there were Carlos and Rebecca, both trying to look welcoming and unconcerned.
“Hi, Y/n,” Carlos said, smiling. “How are you?”
“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the two of them.
“What do you mean?”
“You demand an agreement, and when it comes to you, you simply ignore it.” He took a deep breath.
“I know, but we’ve been dating for a while, and I thought it was time for you to meet her.”
“Meet her?” Y/n’s voice trembled with frustration. “You can’t make this decision alone, Carlos. We are her parents, and this should be a decision we make together, not something you just think is a good idea and ignore the fact that I am her mother.”
Rebecca stepped forward, with a gentle voice.
“Y/n, I really just want to get to know her. I’m not trying to replace you.”
And my frustration only intensified.
“It’s not about replacing me. It’s about us making decisions together for our daughter, and that doesn’t involve you being here.” Carlos sighed, running his hand through his hair.
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to make you uncomfortable. Let’s talk about this, okay?”
“Oh, so now you want to talk?”
“Can you stop being so difficult? She’s my daughter too.”
“Then start acting like a father instead of going around kissing models in clubs and then bringing them to my doorstep.”
“I am a father when I can be because my life is very busy, and you knew that when we had her.” He says arms crossed. “Maybe you should stop being a terrible mother making me lose the little time I have with my daughter, and then we talk about it.”
“Carlos.” Rebecca speaks as he finishes.
“You know what, if anyone here is a terrible parent, it’s you who prefers to spend your weekends in a car racing in circles and risking leaving your daughter without a father. I’m here every day doing the best I can to take care of her, but apparently, that makes me a terrible mother, so I’ll call her and you do whatever you want since it’s always been like this.”
I enter the house holding back my tears and go call her, she was so excited to see her dad that she didn’t even notice the tension between us, and I thanked god for that.
He tried to talk to me before leaving, but I just said goodbye to Maeve and closed the door, but I couldn’t help but notice that Rebecca wasn’t there anymore.
Hours passed and when the end of the day came, I heard the noise of his car, so I went to the door, and when I opened it, she came running.
“Mom, look.” She said showing me a bag full of things. “I’ll show you everything after I take a shower and have dinner.”
“Okay, my love, go ahead.” She smiles, says goodbye to him, and goes to her room.
“Can we talk?”
“No, I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried to close the door, but he held it. “You’ve already said what you think of me, and I’ve already said what I think of you; I don’t think we have anything else to say.”
“What I said is not what I really think.”
“In fact, it is, at least part of you thinks that way, and I’m not going to take back what I said about you because I think that way. I know it’s your career, but I won’t admit that you break our rule, tell me I’m a terrible mother, and then come back wanting to apologize.” He doesn’t say anything. “You don’t know how hard it is to see the guy you loved more than anything with someone else, but especially to see the father of your daughter say that you’re a terrible mother even though I work really hard to give her the best life I can.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That won’t fix things this time, Carlos.” I say looking into his eyes. “You don’t do anything to make my life easier; you show up, do your fatherly duty for a weekend while I stay here dealing with everything else. I don’t have the option of having only the easy parts of having a child. I have to deal with the pressure of being a single mother, having to hide from her every time I need to cry because I can’t take it anymore doing this alone, or having to leave her with my parents because I can’t even get out of bed to take care of her while you’re out there sticking your tongue down supermodels’ throats.”
“I didn’t know you felt this way.”
“And how would you know? You’re never here.” He doesn’t say anything. “I don’t need anything from you, not anymore. The time when I needed you here has passed, and I hope it never comes back.”
“Is everything okay, mommy?” Maeve asks appearing on the stairs, having taken a shower and wearing pajamas.
“Yes, my love, what do you want to eat?” I say wiping my tears.
“I want nuggets with veggies.”
“Okay, so let’s make them.”
“Are you going to have dinner here, daddy?”
“No, my love, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“But don’t you have to go travel?”
“I do, but not now.”
“Okay.” She goes to him and then comes back to the table. “I’ll really come to pick her up tomorrow if that’s okay with you.”
“Okay.”
“Bye.” He leaves, and I lock everything.
“Mommy, where are you?” She screams from the kitchen.
“I’m coming baby.”
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I’m not sure if I’ll write a part 2 but if you guys want another part, let me know.
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kaleldobrev · 9 months
Text
Never the Favorite
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Platonic Pairing: Sam Winchester & F. Reader
Summary: You finally try and set the record straight
Word Count: 844
Warnings: Cursing (1x)
Authors Note: Takes place during season one | Something that always got me, is whenever Sam said something along the lines of Dean being the favorite child. Like Sam, he wasn’t and it was pretty clear so that’s what I based this fic on | Let me know if you like the new way I have formatted | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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It was another classic Sam and Dean argument — Sam telling Dean how he was never the favorite child growing up and how Dean actually was; and how much of a black sheep of the family Sam had felt because he didn't want to go into the family business. It was an argument and a sentiment that you were so used to hearing at this point that you could pretty much recite word for word their replies. The boys were starting to sound like broken records, and you and Dean had only picked up Sam from Stanford a few months ago.
You didn't want to get involved in their argument as you felt like it wasn't really your place, but there was a part of you that started to get annoyed with Sam, because you knew that Dean was never the favorite — Sam always was. You knew how hard Dean had tried over the years to try and get his father's approval, but it was approval that he would never be able to get, no matter how hard he tried. It killed you inside, because you loved Dean for who he truly was, not who he was pretending to be.
But because you had heard this argument so many times, you had told yourself that you were finally going to say something to Sam; to try and stop this argument once and for all.
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Parking Baby and cutting the engine, Dean pulled out his wallet from the glove compartment, pulling out a crumpled up 20 that he won from a poker game a few nights ago. “Gonna grab some snacks. Either of you want anything?” He asked before turning to you. “Want your usual chocolate anything?”
You gave him a small smile. “Yes please. And orange soda if they have it.”
“Getting you the bottle this time. ‘Cause I don’t want another spilling incident like last time with the can,” he said, giving you a wink. “How about you?” He asked, turning to Sam.
“I’m good thanks,” Sam nodded, before pulling out his phone and promptly started checking his e-mail.
“Alrighty,” Dean said, getting out of the car. “Be back in ten.”
As soon as Dean was out of eyeshot and earshot, you sat up closer to the passenger side where Sam was, placing a hand on the back of the seat. “Hey, I know he’s your brother and the whole point of brothers is basically being assholes to each other but, I really need you to lay off the whole Dean being the favorite stuff.”
Sam turned to you, placing his phone in his lap; the look he gave you was of pure confusion. “But he is the favorite. Always has, always will be. I know you probably wouldn’t know that consider —”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you began, slight attitude in your voice. “I’ve been hunting with Dean and your father for about a year now, and let me tell you, I didn’t need to be around for your childhoods to know that you were and are still the very clear favorite.”
“Me? The favorite?” He scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
You rolled your eyes. “Did it ever occur to you why he’s so similar to your dad? Why he barely shows any of his actual interests around anyone but me? Dean wears his jacket, listens to the same music, says the same phrases.”
“But…that’s how Dean always has been," Sam stated. For as long as he could remember, that's always how he remembered Dean, being so similar to their father. Memories flashed before him, recalling numerous times where him and his father sang along to Zeppelin during one of their many insanely long car rides to Pastor Jim's, or how Dean would refuse to go anywhere without their father's leather jacket.
"You really know nothing about your brother do you?" You asked him, slight sadness and hurt entering your voice. You hadn't known for very long, but you had known him long enough for him to start letting you in and getting to know the real him, and not the facade he let everyone else believe. "The only reason Dean acts like your father is because in his mind, if he acts like him he'll get the approval he always wanted that you never had to try and get." You felt your blood start to boil. "So please stop with the fucking favorite argument okay? I'm sick and tired of it."
Sam was silent for a moment, as he's never seen you this angry before nor has he ever seen you this defensive of anyone. As much as he wanted to disagree with you, he knew that he couldn't because he clearly didn't know Dean the way that you did. He might of spent 18 years of his life on the road with him, but he didn't actually know him. "Okay," he finally said, slightly sighing.
"Just...don't tell Dean I said any of this to you okay?" You asked him, slightly patting his shoulder.
"Of course," he said, slightly smiling.
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thestarrynightslover · 6 months
Text
Maybe We Could Do It Again
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
Word count: 4,632
Warnings: bickering and fluff.
Summary: Jay meets the Reader as they’re both babysitting Makayla for Adam and Kim and they end up tangled up on the ground and kissing.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: Okay, so this is one of the longest fics I’ve written, which might be a little too long but I hope you guys like it and feel free to send feedback! By the way, this is the first time I insert Burzek in one of my fics but I think I got their energy right ;)
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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“Oh my God, Adam! I can’t believe that even when you’re not supposed to do something you get it wrong!” Kim yelled at her boyfriend.
“What the hell-” He even tried to respond but got immediately interrupted for his bad language.
“Adam!” She hissed again, not believing how he could still curse so much now that the two of them had a child in the house.
“Sorry, sorry!” He said, nervously raising his hands, as Kim already peeked through the kitchen doors to see Jay and Makayla pretend like they hadn’t been listening to every word of their conversation in the living room. “It’s just… I remember you specifically telling me to find someone to babysit the kid, so I did it! How is it possible that I’m the one who-”
“Yes! I did ask you two to do that! On Monday! And do you remember what you told me?” He didn’t dare to say anything. “Oh, no? Because I do! I remember you saying, and I quote:” she said, even making finger quotes to emphasize the whole thing, “‘Where the hell am I supposed to find a babysitter for Makayla? None of my friends have any experience with kids!’” Kim shoved it in his face, making a very good point for herself. But, as usual, Adam decided to go against any sign of good judgment and continue to defend himself. He knew he could never let Kim in on it, but Jay himself was one of those who had already heard the officer saying how much he loved bickering with his girlfriend and getting her all fired up against him.
“No, uh! That won’t cut it! You told me, and I quote: ‘Then hire someone! I don’t know! But you’re the one who came up with the date night idea, so don’t come and throw something that should be your responsibility on my shoulders!’, so I knew that I needed to find someone! Kev and Vanessa are visiting his siblings this weekend, so I thought: why not Jay? He’s good with kids, and he offered to help us with Makayla!” Adam concluded, absolutely proud of himself while Kim just rolled her eyes.
“Oh. My. God!!! You do know he didn’t mean that literally, don’t you?” She was already fuming by that point.
“Err-” He had to admit that he’d never stopped to think about that possibility…
“No one means that literally!!” She shouted, this time, making even the neighbors hear their arguing. “No one means that literally, and, now, you’re just making us both look like the cops who can’t take care of their own kid in front of the entire unit.” She stated, in a lower, tone while pinching the bridge of her nose.
“But this is not the entire unit! This is Jay! Our friend Jay, who had offered!” Adam stood by that argument and Kim had already opened her mouth to shoot a remark back when Jay came into the kitchen.
“Makayla’s distracted with the tv.” He started with that so that they wouldn’t be worried. “Uh... Guys, Kim, you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone about this, okay? I won’t. Besides, I did mean what I said before. I’m here to help. Whatever you guys need. Plus, for someone who had plans of watching a game rerun alone at home on a Friday night, babysitting that cute little girl is almost like hitting a jackpot!” Jay assured, giving them a small smile and shiny eyes headed towards Makayla’s direction. Babysitting a kid, when he was probably never gonna have one of his own, was one of the things that he, personally, missed the most about when Will and Natalie were together. Back when Lindsay lived in Chicago, he used to be sure that, someday, he was gonna find someone. Settle down. Build a family. But, now… After everything that had happened, he couldn’t help but feel like his time to do all that had run out. So, instead of mooning over it, he could gladly babysit Makayla.
“Well, um, thank you, Jay,” Kim started, nervously tucking a string of hair behind her ear, “that’s really nice to hear. And we very much appreciate it. But-” She didn’t get a chance to finish as the doorbell rang and Adam rushed towards the apartment’s entrance to prevent his very excited little girl from opening the door by herself. When he got there, followed by the other two adults, Makayla was already standing on her tiptoes, hand-in-handle.
“Hey! Watcha doing, you little adventurous?!” Adam asked while picking her up from the floor and tickling her sides, which made her become a giggling mess. “You can’t just open the door like that, darlin’! You gotta check on the peephole first,” he said, as he lifted her up enough so that she could look through the hole, “like this. See someone?”
“Yes! It’s (y/n/n)!” She squealed out. “Can we open the door now? Please, Adam?” Makayla asked, shooting him pleading eyes, while her body buzzed with happiness.
“Ah, (y/n/n), right,” Adam said simply, opening the door and fearing that Kim would want to restart the whole discussion with him.
“Hey, princess!” And that simple greeting was all it took for Makayla to throw herself from Adam’s arms straight to yours. “Wow,” you laughed at her sudden movement, which had caused you to lose your balance a little, “you excited to see me?”
“Yes!! Did you bring the bakings???” She asked you eagerly, bakings being what she called your cooking utensils.
“No, not today!” Your answer made her face, almost immediately, turn into a sad frown. “But I brought this!” You told her while lifting up a box that read ‘karaoke set’, above a few drawings of a microphone and musical notes. Seeing that, Makayla’s saddened expression shifted in two seconds, eyes lighting up.
“Look, Kim!” The little girl shrieked, more than ready to have what she already knew was about to be the time of her life.
“Yeah, I see that! Seems like you girls are gonna have a blast…” Your friend weirdly trailed off, as her mind tried to find a quick solution to the mess her boyfriend had made.
“Uh…” Was all that a very handsome man you hadn’t met yet managed to let out.
“Jay, um, this is my best friend (y/n). (y/n/n), this is our friend from work Jay. I’m sorry about the mess, guys, it’s Adam’s fault.” Kim spoke again, bluntly accusing her boyfriend.
“My fault??? Are you kidding??? You told me to find someone to watch Makayla 'cause you didn’t want us to keep bothering (y/n)!”
“Guys! It’s no bother at all, really. Hanging out with this little princess is in my best interest, believe me!” You said, quickly defending your case.
“Well, thanks for saying that, (y/n/n). What happened here is that Adam told me he wouldn’t be able to get anyone,” Kim started while shooting daggers into her boyfriend with her bare eyes. “So, since I wasn’t about to just wait for a miracle, I called and asked you to do it. But someone didn’t think about telling me that he had already gotten Jay to come. And now you’re both here, ugh!” She finished, rather dramatically, while pointing a finger at Adam.
That was, seriously, the best couple you knew when it came to bickering.
“Okay, so, um, it’s not gonna be any trouble. I can leave since your colleague got here first and you don’t need to be stressed on your date night, friend.” You tried to bring things to a peaceful ending before Kim turned it into a murder scene.
“Oh, I do need to be stressed! I need to-” She started to debate but got cut off by Makayla’s cute pleading voice:
“But you can’t leave, (y/n/n)! We’re gonna play karaoke!” The little girl clearly had already gotten worked up by your idea for the night.
“Makayla, baby, please don’t be difficult. You hang out with (y/n/n) all the time, and uncle Jay is already here…” You watched as Adam tried to reason with his daughter while she held you really tight.
“No, uh…” Their friend started to say. Was it too weird for you to be thinking about how incredibly cute he looked when scratching the back of his neck like that? “Relax, man, I can go. I bet that you’re gonna have a lot more fun with her than with me, anyways, Mak.” He completed, talking to your little friend with a sweet smile, to which she reacted with a confused frown.
“But- but why does Jay have to leave? Can’t he play karaoke with us, (y/n/n)?” Makayla asked you poutingly.
“Now that’s something I’d like to see!” Adam started to mock but stopped when Kim punched him in the arm. “Ouch! That hurt, you know?”
“I know! That was exactly the result I was hoping for!” She squealed out sarcastically, “Makayla, honey, you can’t just ask both (y/n/n) and Jay to play karaoke, of all things, with you.” It was lovely to watch Kim interacting so patiently with her kid but the young girl still didn’t seem to understand.
“But why???”
“Well, they don’t know each other, Makayla.” Kim tried again but Mak still wasn’t ready to give it up.
“But they know me!” 
“Good luck explaining now, ma.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, all of you 𑁋 Adam himself included 𑁋 knew what was coming, fortunately, Kim just punched him in the arm again.
“You know, guys, you don’t need to fight over something like this, okay? Uh… Since he’s your coworker, I’m gonna assume that he’s one of the good guys, therefore I wouldn’t really have a problem with hanging out with him…” You said because you were never one to say no to little kids. “I mean if that’s okay with you, too, officer…”
“It’s detective, actually. But you can call me Jay, uh, (y/n), right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Well, I don’t have any problems with hanging out with you either,” Jay said and, Jesus, was that really his smile? “I mean, Mak should get all the babysitters she wants!” He told her with a wink. It was official. You were so done for the night.
“Ha!” Kim nervously let out a laugh, “let’s go easy there, cowboy! You can’t just come into my house offering the kid everything she wants.”
“Okay, okay,” the detective started to say with a gesture of surrender while the couple started to get out of the house to give you the space to properly go in. “Sorry ‘bout that, ma!” You could have sworn that you saw him tremble 𑁋 just a little 𑁋 under the deadly gaze your friend sent his way. Adam, who seemed to be off the hook for the first time that night, took the moment to laugh and hope that his girl would forget she had been so mad at him.
“C’mon, darling. Let’s get going before we decide it isn’t very safe to leave Mak with those two.”
"Yeah… I'm already deciding that but maybe they'll prove us wrong." Kim said, voice absolutely faithless. "You behave, Makayla!"
"It's more than obvious that she's going to be the best tonight. Get outta here already!" You heard Jay yelling a little in response to her, as you and Makayla started to get the karaoke set up.
But you, being the lucky person you were, obviously couldn't find your way around your friend's old stuff.
"Uh, you need any help there?"
“No! No, not all! Um, I got this!” You quickly responded because you could be pretty skeptical when it came to admitting your weaknesses and, from your point of view, not getting a simple karaoke set to work was a huge one.
“Alright, then…”
“Are you sure you don’t want Jay to help, (y/n/n)?” Mak asked, sounding way more reasonable than you, the actual adult there.
“Um, err, I guess maybe I could use some help… It’s just that this TV setup is quite different from mine…” You said, still unwilling to let how confused you were really show.
“Yeah, I can help!” you heard Jay as he left his spot in the corner of the room. “I was just ordering us pizza but I can totally help out 'cause Adam and I actually shopped for these TVs together, so I have the same one!” He said, this time, already gently getting the device from your hands before you could even react, which was probably him sensing that you wouldn’t give it up so easily, like he could see right through you.
“Okay, well, since you already ordered the pizza, I’ll go make us some juice.” As you said that you got both of your companions making weird faces at you, so you amended: “Or not, because you already ordered soda too… Just keep in mind that if Kim gets mad because of all the junk food that kid is eating, I’m telling on you, detective!” You said, making a point to stare right into his eyes 𑁋 God, they were so beautiful, was there nothing but beauty in this man’s body?
“Okay, so I think we’re all good here with the karaoke! Who wants to go first?” Hearing that you came of your very dangerous thoughts and Makayla jumped up and down, screaming:
“Me! Me! Me!”
“Alright, little lady, then come pick a song!” Jay told her and stood by to help her with her choice.
About three hours later all three of you had already sung your hearts out 𑁋 Jay having had gone for ABBA, which surprised you and Mak, to say the least 𑁋 eaten lots of pizza, drunk lots of soda and had begun watching a movie, cause you told Jay that that always did the trick when it came to Mak falling asleep. But, God, it was hard to pay attention to the movie you were supposed to be watching when sitting next to a guy like that. And he wasn’t just really handsome. He was sweet and kind and funny. Also, he was so good with Makayla. It was like everything you’d always imagined the perfect man being like was right there, reunited in the detective’s goof self. But you couldn't be thinking those thoughts about him. Not when he was so close. And definitely not when your best friend's daughter was lying on both of your laps.
So, in order to calm your thoughts for a minute, you gently put Makayla’s head on a cushion as you got up 𑁋 because she was already asleep 𑁋, and said I’m gonna get started on cleaning over there.” It was indeed necessary since Mak had dropped all of the content of a big ice cream container near the dining table, the ice cream being very sticky and sort of liquid 𑁋 which was obviously beyond your understanding but who were you to judge Kim and her preferences? 
"Oh God, lemme help you!" You heard Jay saying, as he quickly made his way from the corridor over to where you were cleaning the floor, by the dining table.
"Ah, there's no need for it. I'm used to spending time with Mak, and, then, cleaning up before Kim sees it." You told him with a sly smile.
"Ha! Well, I don't doubt it! You're really good with her."
"And she's really good at making giant messes."
"Right." He said, chuckling lightly. "But, this time, I bet you felt like there were two kids, huh?"
"Your words, not mine, detective."
"Anyways, I'll help. Don't tell Kim and Adam, cause they might spread it across the district, but I'm actually pretty good at cleaning. Especially, when compared to someone who's doing such a lousy job." At that, you instantly snapped your head in his direction.
"What did you just say?" You asked, pretending to be mad while standing up and raising your sponge, as if it was a weapon you were threatening him with.
"Uh… Uh, d- did you know that pulling a weapon on a cop is a crime?" He asked, trying to play along, but stuttering a little.
"And what are you gonna do?" Now that Makayla was asleep… "Huh? Arrest me?" Jesus Christ, you definitely weren't thinking straight, you thought as you watched Jay drop his mop, also spilling all the soapy water on the floor. He even motioned to take care of it but stopped when he realized that you were, now, standing closer. Closer than it was safe for him to be near a woman like you. So he decided to take a step backward, not remembering the floor situation and slipping. As a reflex, you grabbed his shirt when you were obviously not gonna be able to prevent him from falling.
So, you ended up falling with him. On top of him. Oh God, was that living room always so hot? Your thoughts were cut off by Jay's laugh, it was an open-mouthed laugh, just like when you two were interacting with Makayla. He didn't seem to be the kind of guy who got to laugh too much, especially given his job. But it definitely suited his features. His smile, that bright, was so beautiful.
"So you're seriously not even gonna try and get up? Just gonna stay there staring?" Hearing that, you blushed instantly, because you hadn't even realized you were staring.
"Ah, uh… Right." Now, that was your turn to stutter, and Jay was loving every second of it. He thought you looked absolutely adorable like that. Even more so than you had looked all night.
But you weren't feeling adorable at all. You were embarrassed. By the situation at hand, sure, but, also, by your entire behavior that had, pretty much, gotten the two of you in that position. What was going through your head? The answer was simple: nothing. Or, better yet, Jay's gorgeous face, body, and behavior. Just, Jay being gorgeous all night. Now, what really made you wanna dig a hole and jump right into it was when you tried to get up but the floor was so slippery that you just fell back on him.
Needless to say, he was having a playfield. Laughing like there was no tomorrow. In fact, he had relaxed completely under you, laying his head on the soaked floor.
"You know what? This is pretty comfortable. I think I'll stay right here." It was official: you had no self-shame.
"Are you serious?" He asked, trying hard to hold back from laughing.
"Look, I don't know what else to do, okay? And my brain is clearly affected by your little charm, because I just keep mortifying myself over and over-"
"So you think I'm charming, huh?" Damn it. A thousand times damn it.
"Uh… That's not exactly what I-" You couldn't finish your sentence, as Jay started pulling you even closer to him. Kissing you. Oh boy, how he kissed you…
"Oh. My. God." Both you and Jay jumped away from each other, as much as you could, the second you heard Kim say that, her being followed suit by Adam:
"What the hell is that?!?" He half-asked, half-barked at the both of you, trying hard to not burst into laughter.
"Uh, it's, um, it's not what you're thinking, guys-"
"It's not what I'm thinking?!?" Yeah… It was safe to say that Kim was pissed. "Are you sure it isn't? Because the image actually seemed pretty self-explanatory to me!" As the both of you just kept working out a way to get up from the floor, she continued: "I come back home thinking that everything was gonna be perfect because my daughter had two adults babysitting her! People that I thought were quite responsible but, then, I come home to find those very adults making out on the floor in my living room! My very dirty living room! And, by the way, where the hell is Makayla?"
"She, um, she's in her bedroom. Asleep." Jay finally spoke. "And, about the mess… We were just, uh…"
"Yeah, man, we saw what you were just doing," Adam said, looking like he was having the time of his life.
"No! That's not what he was gonna say-"
"Ah, so the two of you got along so well that now you even know what he was going to say, (y/n)?" Kim said, while glaring at you.
"All I meant was that, well, the place got a little dirty…" Jay started to explain but not fast enough.
"A little???" Kim was really, really mad, you realized.
"But dinner was great!" At that, both you and Kim just stared at him incredulously while Adam started laughing on his way to the kitchen.
"That's what you were going to say???" You ask him, not believing you'd just tried to defend him for some joke. "Kim, I'm sorry things ended up this unfruitful…" You began to tell your best friend, to try and patch things up, when Adam chipped in from the other room.
"You know, darling, Jay wasn't wrong! This pizza is great!" He barked, mouth full. And that's what got Kim to go over the edge.
"Don't you realize what just happened here, Adam??? And, you two! I still haven't heard an explanation on what the hell I just saw!"
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! We were cleaning up and then it just-"
"It just what, (y/n)??? It just happened? That what you were gonna say?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, it is! It just happened because you and your boyfriend made me babysit with this ridiculously hot guy and I'm human! Now, before you have another crisis, Makayla didn't see anything and I'm leaving because I just humiliated myself more than enough for a lifetime!" With that said, and your flight or flee instinct activated — cause you were never much of a fighter —, you did the smartest thing possible and stormed out of there, hoping to be able to get into some sort of protection program for embarrassment victims.
Meanwhile, Adam and Kim simply had to laugh, even more so when they noticed Jay's shocked twinkling expression.
"Jay! What is wrong with you?" Kim asked, taking him out of his daze.
"What?"
"Go after her! If I hadn't been so upset about the circumstances, I would've been the first one to say that what happened over there?" She asked, pointing to the floor. "What happened there was hot." The officer finished her trail of thought bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing.
"But… What about your living room?" Jay asked, still unsure of what to do.
"Are you kidding me? Look, Halstead, if you promise not to break her heart… I won't hold it against you." Kim stated, making her stance on the whole matter very clear. She thought it was a good way to start apologizing to you after freaking out like that.
"Uh, uh, alright!" The detective rambled, looking like he had no idea of what to do next.
“Go!” With that last push, he left his friends’ house to go try and get the girl.
“You know, this is quite a mess but they do have the potential to be a great couple!” Adam happily pointed out, as he kept eating all he could find.
“Ha! If she’s as lucky as I am…” Kim ironically muttered, as she watched her boyfriend impolitely shoving food in his mouth.
“Then she’s a very lucky lady!” He confidently stated with a grin while all Kim could do was laugh at his messy childish ways.
Outside burzek's apartment — burzek being the ship name you used to tease Kim and Adam with —, you had been slowly walking towards the subway. You wanted to move faster but your mind was too full at the moment. And, sometimes, when you needed to get your head back on straight, you couldn't really do anything else, having a hard time concentrating on your flow of thoughts.
It was right when you were beginning to think you had stopped the spirals in your mind that you heard him: "(y/n)!" You recognized the detective's voice on the spot. How could you not, after how he had managed to disrupt your thoughts and actions all evening? But you weren't about to turn back around and have your very own movie ending with him. You just knew it wasn't gonna play out like that and decided to keep walking in order to preserve the little dignity you still had. "Oh, c'mon! Just give me a minute! Please!" That pleading made you turn around, to let him down more politely, which ended up with the two of you almost hitting each other. Once again, that same night, he was too close to you. The proximity with his body sending all sorts of heatwaves through yours. He seemed to be feeling it too, given the way he started to look at you, the damn smirk back on his lips.
"Nu-uh. You don't get to look at me like that. Not after what it did to me the first time."
"Huh. Care to elaborate on that? How exactly am I looking at you?" He asked, moving even closer to you altogether. "And, more importantly, what exactly did it do to you?"
"You don't need me to answer any of that." You pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest — clearly going into defensive mode.
"Maybe not," he started, tilting his head slightly — the damn smirks never leaving his face. "But. I'd like to hear it nevertheless."
"Well, you're not going to."
"Ah, okay." Wait, was he really giving up that easily? "Then maybe I can just try and see what it does to you one more time? For the sake of curiosity." All you could think to say was an enthusiastic 'Yes, please!' but, when he started leaning in to kiss you, you seemed to come back to your senses, pushing him away and taking some steps back of your own.
"Oh my God! Don't you get it? We can't be doing this right now. Not after the way I left things with Kim because of our previous, um, actions!" At that, Jay just gave you a confused look. "I stormed out of there but just because I was feeling too ashamed about it all and I honestly don’t think that I want any more embarrassment for a lifetime.
“Okay, okay. I get that but maybe it would feel less embarrassing for you if you knew that I was feeling all of that too: all of that buzzing energy and the goddamn butterflies and everything. You were doing exactly the same I did to you to me. And, as embarrassing as it was to be caught like that by Adam and Kim, I still can’t say I regret any of it. In fact, I was thinking that maybe we could do it again? You know, minus all the mess and the kid 𑁋 I mean, I adore Mak but that would be-” 
You didn’t care to listen to the rest of all he had to say. Instead, you threw yourself into his arms, even making him lose his balance for a second, and started kissing him, except that this time it was a slow, hot, and thought-through kiss. And the second you did kiss him, you heard clapping and whistling from afar, as you turned to find Kim and Adam there, once again witnessing you and Jay kiss. And that had Jay whispering to you:
“Let’s get out of here?” To which you responded simply with a:
“Yes, please!”
327 notes · View notes
treysimp · 2 years
Note
Would you ever do the staff for the bath headcannon ? I love the third years one btw 🥰
It's time babe! I hope you enjoy!
Taking A Bath With Them - GN!Adult Reader/NRC Staff (Crowley, Crewel, Vargas, Trein, Sam)
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Rating: T (Lightly suggestive themes)
Tags: Reader's body not described nor are pronouns used, non-sexual domestic intimacy and fluff, elements of body worship, implied body insecurity from reader, established relationship, how do I make myself fall in love with each character I write for guys please explain to me.
Words: 3k
Silly author's notes: Not that I’ve been seeking it out but it feels like I never see anyone trying to put the moves Vargas (like I’m sure you exist, Vargas-fuckers where you at?) so since all of you are so fucking complicated I’m gonna do it! Fluffy domestic garbage for all!
Want more TWST? Here's my masterlist!
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Dire Crowley:
‘Never judge a book by its cover, but tattered books don’t get picked off the shelf,’ is probably a quote Crowley heard in passing one time and then immediately tried to contribute to himself. Being the headmaster of a famous and prestigious school involves a lot of hard work, but you can never forget about appearances. Clothes make the man, and if the said man in those clothes doesn’t pull them off, what is even the point of wearing them? It feels like a lecture every time that you and Crowley bathe together, but you can’t say that you necessarily say that you disagree either. If anything, it was a trademark of NRC to be the flashy talented bad boy counterpart to the pure princes of Royal Sword Academy. Public perception seemed to ebb and flow as far as which one was the superior institution, but you would never tire of Crowley’s antics to show up Ambrose and improve NRC’s reputation. You may wonder, does Crowley remove his mask when bathing? And the answer is yes, but it is replaced with a gel pearl mask to ‘get rid of his horrendous eye-bags’ Crowley would say. You would wonder who would even see said eye bags, but you felt like you weren’t going to get a better explanation even if you asked.
Since Crowley loves to travel so much, one of the best parts of any vacation is being dragged to a beautiful outdoor hot spring when the ever-busy Headmaster is relaxed for once. He asks over and over ‘isn’t it beautiful here,' or, ‘are you happy with this,’ or even ‘this was nice of me right’? It’s the smallest hint of insecurity and worries that he will readily give. Crowley wants you to enjoy your time together, but a small part of his heart gnaws at him that maybe he missed something crucial and you were just too kind to say something. That you weren’t having a good time, that you didn’t truly think that he was kind, talented, and magnanimous and was just staying with him out of pity. 
He hated himself for those thoughts, he truly didn’t believe that you would think of him so, but the stream of questions ran across the back of his closed eyes like an unending scroll of his deepest fears shaped into written reality. Crowley would then hear you tell him how happy you were, gushing about the bath, the clarity of the night sky, and the lovely locale and he could feel his anxiety washing away just like splashes of water on the surrounding tile floors circle down a drain. 
He would pull you to his arms and talk about what he wished for the future, any particularly astounding stories from his past, and he would feel a genuine smile whisper across his lips. Maybe he wasn’t as great as he hoped, maybe he wasn’t as kind or as thoughtful, but you were still here in the soft warmth of his arms in this soothing water… and that was more than enough. Maybe he needed to think a little more in the short term, and all that came to mind was the fluttering heartbeat in his chest as your head leaned on his shoulder and his lips met your soft cheek.
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Divus Crewel
Crewel is another one for spa treatments and taking great care of your body. He loves to take you into your bath and spoil you with scrubs, oils, and potions of his own making. He is ready to smooth, perfect and tighten every insecurity you have. More than anything, his favorite pastime is stealing you away for a weekend trip to somewhere beautiful where you both can be pampered. 
As the man is also more than a bit into a gorgeous classic car, imagine the most idealized movie setting, the two of you cruising down the coast in a cherry red convertible with fashionable headwear to keep both of your hair behaved while your oversized sunglasses gleam in the sunlight. The word glamor doesn't cover even half of it, but it's a good start.
Expect these trips to be for both business and pleasure: hunting for vintage clothing pieces and fabrics in beautiful locales, scrounging through markets for rare ingredients, and then wasting the rest of the days away at spas, drinking delectable wine and enjoying only the finest foods. You worry that you are too spoiled by him at times, and if you mention this to him, he will just laugh joyfully. 
‘If I ruin all other men for you forever, I can’t say I would complain,’ he would joke, smoothing mud from the bath you shared over his shoulders sensually. He already had ruined all other men for you, but you were sure he probably knew that anyway. That was part of what was so lovely between the two of you, there was so much left unsaid, but never unheard. 
You got ready in the morning together, passing products back and forth across the double sinks in a routine. You would get your dinners and pass pieces of the best bites back and forth so that you could both enjoy each taste together. Every task felt routine but oh so comfortable. You would try the same products and give your opinions on them, swapping purchases back and forth based on who’s skin might suit it more, whose hair would behave better with each ingredient, and so on. 
Students at NRC would try to distract Crewel during class by asking him when he was going to marry you, and most of the time he would throw back some sort of ‘maybe when you get an A on an essay one of these days,' if he was feeling snappy. It was hard to miss the way his eyes would crinkle any time you were mentioned and how his mood would be notably lifted for the rest of class. This isn’t to say that he was any less harsh on his students, but they did see him smile more, so the criticism would be just a bit softer as a result. You would know these days too, as he would pull you into a bath and massage your neck while he laughed heartily at the shenanigans of his classes. 
That was another thing you so loved about these quiet bathtimes, getting to see all of the faces and responses that he kept hidden just for you. 
You were so lucky.   
Happiness.
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Ashton Vargas
Your meatheaded darling did mean well, but… he was just one of those people that thought that you could muscle through everything. Unfortunately, he had built enough muscle that he has been proved right so far. While Ashton was quite self-obsessed and would flinch in fear every time he imagined that he lost even a centimeter of calf muscle, he never would give you any grief about how your body looked in the slightest. He was very encouraging and would do everything he could to get you to (healthily) build up your stamina and strength, but there was never a time that he would get frustrated with a failure you had. If you’re a person who cries when they’re frustrated, he will wipe them away. If you are someone who yells or wants to throw things when they’re frustrated, he will give you a ball and let you go ham against a wall until you’re cooled off enough for a hug. Vargas wasn’t always book smart, but he was intuitive to others’ needs in a way that few people are. 
Ashton is very enthusiastic about bathing, which is good for you because you get a great view while soaping up. Since he’s such a show-off, Vargas will wait on you hand and foot to get a chance to flex a muscle, flip his thick hair over his shoulder or sparkle his perfect white teeth your way. 
He just wants to make sure that you feel just as beautiful as he knows he is. He wouldn’t do this for just anyone, you know? You’re special, even when you might not agree with him. There was no arguing with him, if the peak physical specimen of himself thought you were worthy of bodily worship, how could you deny him? Are you saying that he isn’t gorgeous? His big blue eyes will sparkle in dramatic unshed crocodile tears at the thought. Oh? Did you say he is gorgeous? Well, then you are too. Beautiful people know how to spot beautiful things, and the only way you could argue that he was wrong was by saying that he wasn’t beautiful. 
His logic made you want to hit your head against a wall, but when a man with the body of a goddamn superhero tells you that he thinks you’re hot it’s pretty hard to disagree with him. If you still try to fight it, prepare for over-the-top compliments while he forcefully tries to make you relax and go along with his praise. We are talking scrubbing behind your ears and saying that you have ‘well-formed lobes’ kind of compliments. You like that he’s complimenting you, but you also don’t know how to respond either.  
More than anything, his hugs are to die for. During a bath, after a bath, once you are both snuggled in bed and comfortable? Heavenly, all of it. 
Vargas loves to talk you to sleep, both of your plans for the next day, going over when and where you are taking your next vacation, and giving suggestions for what muscle groups he thinks would most benefit you to build. Hell if you tell him that makes you uncomfortable or you aren’t able to follow through, he will immediately change his plans and make variations to be kinder to your back, your knees, neck, ankles, etc. Never underestimate a man who knows anatomy better than geography. This goes double when you grab a map and realize that one trip that he told you was a 'two-hour drive’ from Night Raven was actually a fifteen-hour one, even with the help of the mirrors. 
Oh well, his confidence was something you loved, no matter how correct he may or may not be.
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Mozus Trein:
Trein was almost hilarious with how soft and tender he treated those he cared about versus the strict and stern History teacher exterior that he gave off. 
Something that drew you to him was seeing how tenderly he cared for his daughters. All three of them had all flown the nest at this point, but seeing him smile softly while he penned them letters as he scratches Lucius’ chin and murmured conversation to the cat was something that made your heart melt. 
You had been brushing up on your animal languages to better talk to Lucius too, and you could make out the gist of what he says now. As you suspected, he is not the most polite to others, but he is relatively quick to befriend those that bother to talk to him and offer treats that he likes. Due to these habits, you get along quite well. You try to ask for secrets about Mozus, but Lucius won’t always answer. The only consistency you can make out is that it seems like the cat will only answer you when he thinks it’s funny, but his sense of humor can be a bit difficult to work out.  
Trein is not one for much intimacy, he is more one to enjoy mutually comfortable silences. He has had a lot of time to work out every habit and isn’t overly open to doing things outside of them, but a soak with bath salts or some other kind of medicinal mixture suits him quite well. Trein humors your wants and needs and is more than willing to go along with any ‘couples’ treatments you might be interested in within reason. 
Surprisingly, he is open to doing things like acupuncture, fire cupping, and various types of experimental medicines, but if you ask him to get a facial his eyebrow will be stuck in a skeptical arch for the entirety of the experience. You were able to snap a picture of him making this face while wearing a green clay mask with cucumbers over his eyes. You treasure the photo, but you will never show it to him as you know he will be horrified at how undignified he looks. Part of his charm, you think.
Overall the greatest treat of all is seeing the relaxed smile that creeps onto his features when he is truly relaxing. It felt like something special just for you, sneaking a sleepy peek at him in the evening: relaxing in a silken robe, reading a novel, glasses perched on his strong nose, sipping at chamomile tea, and wearing the softest smile. It made your chest feel so warm that you got to see these small and simple moments. Everyday moments were the most special, you thought. Perhaps this simple comfort is what happiness truly is. 
He will see you staring at him, invite you over for a chat and then wrap his arm around you and bring you to bed. He tucks you in tightly, much like one would do a child. His eyes soften when he does it, you suppose there must be a lot of pleasant memories attached to the action. Once he is satisfied with the bedding, he climbs in next to you, giving you a pleasant peck on the forehead before turning off the light. You hear the pitter-patter of little fluffy feet walking in a circle, a huff, and then a perfectly elegant flop and a warmth near your right foot. You sleep soundly, waking up every so often to feel a hand fixing the blanket that you repeatedly kept throwing off of your shoulder and another kiss on your temple as soon as it was finished. 
Happiness.
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Sam
As the youngest and least academically-focused staff member, Sam seemed always eager to prove himself. This was especially funny to you, considering how his ‘friends’ gave him such a leg up in almost every situation that you wondered why he ever felt less-than. 
Sam had worked his salesman voice to near perfection, had an in with almost every vendor of note, came from a famously powerful family, was strikingly handsome, stylish, and had a killer smile… 
Okay, you were wandering off topic here, but how could you help it? 
His magenta eyes would flick to yours in passing and you found yourself not being able to think of everything but him. You wanted to joke that his signature spell was how he took your breath away, but that one was all him. You weren’t even sure if he knew how breathtaking he was, moving through each room like a tap dancer one Maxi Ford away from a full routine. 
The theatricality that he brought to everything he did made you feel similar anticipation to being in a theater, hoping and praying that the handsome lead actor would look down at you specifically during a pivotal scene. For the sake of your heart, you were glad that somehow you had succeeded in catching his gaze the same way he had yours. 
When it came to bathing, he enjoyed it. As the local ‘literally-everything’ supplier, he always had something to surprise you with if you wanted a fun gimmick in the bath, but he had his own perfect set of potions to maintain his stylishly dyed hues. You weren’t entirely sure if his particular swirl of hair colors was natural or magicked into place, and the few times you thought to ask Sam, he would just put one finger in a ‘shush’ motion over his mouth with and wink. It was hard to deny that his cheeky mysteriousness wasn’t appealing though. 
If Sam was having a particularly good time, he might try to entice you in a cute little deal or ‘give you an offer you couldn’t possibly refuse’. 
It was a relatively silly game because the cost for all of these handshake deals was always ‘a kiss’ which you would gladly give him regardless of if he gave you something in return. You liked the goofy smile he would give you after you agreed, so you indulged him regardless. He sometimes would act shy and murmur something about ‘stealing his first kiss’ (he made this joke from your second kiss onwards) but would quickly give up the ghost to cover your face in playful smooches and thread his hands at the nape of your neck so you couldn't move away from his lovesick gaze. 
You’ve seen no true gentleman before in your life if you haven’t seen Sam at a proper ballroom soiree. Letting his relaxed slouch straighten into an elegant straight back and properly dressed to the nines, it seemed like he belonged under a spotlight. Sam was an amazing dancer, singer, card player, gambler, smooth talker, and pianist. He seemed to be accomplished in yet another hobby each time an acquaintance of his would say hello and jokingly admonish him for not showing off some hereto unknown skill of his. He would take the friendly jabs well, say ‘perhaps another time’, and then introduce his ‘charming companion’ (you) to them all in turn. Saying each word as fresh and new as the first time, though the words were practically a script for him at this point. 
The ultimate renaissance man, truly. 
Once you both were exhausted and came back to your home, you would bask in each other’s company. His voice raspy from overuse of the night, he whispered his thanks to you for accompanying him. You interrupt his soon-to-be soliloquy to say, ‘how could I possibly refuse an invitation from the most beautiful man I know?’. His eyes would crinkle with laughter from your response and he would pull you close, exhaling into your hair while the exhaustion of the night hits him like a well-anticipated crescendo. 
Sam idly thought that out of the two of you, the power you held over him was far stronger than any spell he knew. 
It was this time of night that you thought he looked his youngest, chortles losing all of their rehearsed and powerful baritones, words spilling out messily, sentences punctuated with ‘ah’s and ‘um’s. 
Sleepy magenta met your eyes and you would decide to finally drag Sam off to bed, tucking him under your fluffy comforter with care. He fell asleep on a dime, and when he was sleeping you felt like you could see the angelic face he must have had as a child. 
You couldn’t wait to see what you both did together tomorrow. Maybe you’d even tell him that you loved him. 
You weren’t going to be able to stop yourself from blurting it out sooner or later anyway.
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So who was your fav? Dying to know. I ran away from the bath theme a bit but it was all from a place of love, I promise. Have I convinced you to simp for someone new? Let me know!
Love you, reader! 💋
Requested tags: @stygianoir (hope you liked it!) @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @buckketboy, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @prince-zukohere, @fragmentedstarlight, @sarahyumiko2, @sappyisyourpappy, @rebel-faes-writing, @witch-waycult, @dari-kun, @riddle-simp, @naniky, @the-mermaid-of-the-stars
869 notes · View notes
idontplaytrack · 6 months
Text
Jersey 48
Janis 'Imi'ike x sibling!reader(a year younger) + Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George(established r/s)
Warnings: xenophobia, homophobia, coarse language, incest mentions, porn mentions, implied self-harm
In which, reader starts having a hard time at school following a breakup that went bad. Janis is determined to help out her younger sister.
"y/n? Can I come in?" You hear a couple of knocks on your door followed by Janis' question.
"No, go away." You rejected.
"y/n." She says, a soft thud follows. She'd leaned against the wooden door.
"Go away, Janis. I don't know what to say to you."
Janis fiddles with the door handle and saw that the lock wasn't even turned in the direction to indicate that the door was indeed, locked. She quietly opened the door, and it creaks.
"What the fuck, Janis. I told you to leave me alone." You spat harshly and your older sister remains unfazed. She joins you on the floor, where you’d been crying. But you deny it. She could definitely tell, though.
“Stop looking at me like that- I don’t need your pity. I don’t know how to tell you everything.”
“y/n, is this because of Sofia?” Janis took a wild guess and hit the nail right on the head.
“Which part? The forcing me to come out, the getting all of North Shore’s students to turn on me, or the part where she stole my clothes while I was in the locker room shower and humiliated me?” You rambled.
“That bitch.” Janis bit the inside of her cheek, the anger inside her quickly boiling. “Screw her. Regina will destroy her.”
“Stop. I don’t want anyone else getting dragged into this. Especially not your girlfriend.”
“I’m here to protect you. You’re my sister- no one’s getting away with that.”
“You know what’s the worse thing I’ve heard since this whole shit show started?” You scoffed, wiping your tears away. “Go back to your country. Some prick I’ve never even seen in my three years of being in the school said that to me and shoved me into a locker. That is a bloody mind fuck- when you’re already feeling like shit, whatever nonsense you hear, sticks. As if I don’t belong here. I was born here. I know that, but still - I’m sad over that. Over a few words from someone who doesn’t know anything about me.”
“Babe, where the hell…” Regina’s voice made you look up quickly, “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
“No, don’t be.” Janis stops her, “I’m gonna need your help with this. y/n what’s his jersey number?”
“How’d you know he was wearing a jersey?” You sniffled.
“Okay…” Regina enters your room despite being a little confused.
“48? I don’t know. He has that blonde streak in his hair.” You exhaled shakily.
“Janis, sweetie. I’m gonna need more than that. Even though I know who you want me to go after.” Regina sat down as well.
“Mr. has-been-held-back-twice was being a racist fuck and got physical with her.” Janis explained simply.
“Fucking Benedict?” Regina scoffs, “Didn’t he-”
“Yes.”
“The blockhead who tou-”
“Yes.” Janis seethed.
“What’d he do to you?”
“Eggs Benedict and little miss Sofia, are in cahoots.” Regina revealed.
“Regina. Enough.” Janis warned. “She needs to know. We can do our best to protect her, but we’ll never be 100% sure.”
“They’re step siblings. And he molested Janis back when we were in middle school.”
“Oh, my God.” You gulped, “Janis, I’m sorry.”
“I punched him. Then, I kicked him in the balls.” Janis shrugged. “I lived, I’m fine.”
“So what? They’re the new king and queen of the school who just prey on people they don’t like?”
“Without bullying, they’re powerless.” Regina explains, “And I have just the thing to bring them down.”
“Should I be scared?” You asked your sister.
“No.” Janis assured, “You’re not gonna get involved.”
“If this is another one of the Burn Books, please don’t do that.”
“That Burn Book was nothing. What I have…it’ll ruin them forever. No one messes with my people and gets away with it.”
“What exactly do you have on them?” Janis asked, curiously.
“Something disgusting.” Regina shrugs, “Anyway, y/n, cry it out, scream, whatever you want..but remember that you have us in your corner and you’ll definitely find someone who loves you for you.”
“Tell me.” Janis arched a brow.
“You want your little sister to hear that those two are basically Sweet Home Alabama-ing?”
Janis’ eyes widened in shock, but she quickly laughs, regaining her composure. “Now I’m curious to know how you found out.”
“The Internet. It’s not like they were hiding it- maybe that’s why the people at school are scared of them. They don’t want to be the next one dragged into their little p-”
“So much for not talking about others behind their backs.” You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand to blow your nose.
“Regina? Stop. That’s enough of that.” Janis interjected, “y/n, did he-”
“No, he didn’t touch me. Sofia tried to kiss me— in public and when I told her I couldn’t, she screamed bloody murder and told everyone in the halls I tried to come onto her.”
Janis scoffs, “That’s what you did, babe.”
“I was in denial and an immature little shit. Now, I’m not.” Regina said.
“What, a bitch? You still are.” Janis replies without hesitation.
Regina squints at your sister, “What I did was wrong, but the difference is this- we had consent. I just said shit to make her embarrassed. She didn’t have consent from you and if we’re gonna get technical, that can be an attempted assault.”
“No it can’t.” You say. “We were dating when it happened. She tried to flip it on me and said that I tried to- I already made it clear to her that I wasn’t okay with PDA and she just-”
“Yes. It. Can.” Regina insists.
“No one’s gonna believe me.”
“Oh, I’ll make them believe you.” Regina stood up, “Trust me, baby. You’re not gonna have to worry about them anymore.”
————
“Where did you get this, Regina?”
“The Internet. Look it up yourself if you don’t believe me- they’re very well-known on that side of it.” The blonde shrugs.
“Janis?”
“Sofia Swanson tried to kiss my sister against her will. Can you tell me that’s not an attempted sexual assault? She’s gotten many people in the school to call my sister nasty names, homophobic slurs, jocks telling her to ‘go back to her country’ when she clearly belongs in this one.”
“Those are very serious allegations, Ms. ‘Imi’ike.”
“If you don’t believe me, believe my sister.” Janis sighs, defeated.
“We…will look into all of it. Thank you for coming to us about this. y/n, I’m very sorry about what’s happening. Until we finish our investigation, you don’t have to come to school of you don’t feel safe. Janis or Regina can bring you back your assignments.”
You thanked the discipline mistress and left the office before Janis and Regina did. “Can I take her home?” You hear Janis ask Ms. Sutton.
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
The exchange was quick, with Janis catching up to you when you’ve barely made it into the hallway. Realising which room you’d walked out of, fellow students began to stare and speculate. But when they saw Regina following behind you and Janis, they truly just shut the fuck up. “Attention students- will Benedict Ortega and Sofia Swanson please report to Ms. Sutton’s office. Now.” The announcement comes through the PA system, causing everyone to get more…excited. Nosy. You scurry through the halls, your eye on the exit.
Slam. Someone had their arm out on a locker door to block your path. Sofia.
“Leave her alone.” Regina stated simply. She doesn’t waver. “Oh, no?” Regina continued. The two most random words flew from her lips next, two words you recognised to be Sofia’s (and Benedict’s) Reddit username where they posted their disgusting things. The colour drains from the brunette’s cheek instantly, her face twitching.
“That’s what I thought.” Regina shrugs, a hand on one of your shoulders.
“Hi, sissy liz.” Benedict was the next player on the field.
“Move out of the way.” Janis’ fists were balled up in anger, and she knew if the three of you didn’t get out fast, she will hit someone.
“Why so angry, shortie?” He teased, that smug look and nickname made Regina want to scream.
“Move. Out. Of. The. Way.” Janis repeated herself. He doesn’t listen, but instead coos at you and tilted your chin up with a finger- you wanted to gag, no, puke on him.
“Hands off of her. You mustn’t have heard what I told your sister, you numbnut.” Regina had a protective arm around you now.
“What? Oh, pray tell- what did you say?” He mocked, eyeing you and Janis up and down. His gaze stops on Janis’ chest and Regina could tell.
“You horny fuck.” Regina spat, “No one looks at my girlfriend like that. She’s mine.” She spun on her heels to announce to the crowd, “This goes out to all of you nosy, nosy people. Anyone who tries to mess with Janis, her sister or anyone else in my circle? You can expect to be humiliated.”
“Sofia, Benedict. My office. Now!” Ms. Sutton yells, allowing the three of you to leave before Janis got angry enough to physically hurt someone.
Damian stops you all near the exit and you yelped, startled. “Janis, what’s going on?”
“A lot.” She tells him, “I’ve to take her home, but even if we don’t explain it to you, the truth will come out soon enough.”
He could tell by the looks on your faces that it was something bad. “Okay, I’ll be by after school. Take care, y’all.”
You got into Regina's backseat, Janis took her usual seat in the front. You thought she would've sat with you, but you guess she knew better than that. You wanted some space. "y/n, how about some ice cream?" The blonde glances at you before she started to drive. You shrug. "That usually means yes when it comes to dessert." Janis chimed in. You didn't say anything else until Regina pulls up in front of the ice cream parlour, trying to take in your last few hours of peace before your parents bombarded you with questions. Janis asks if you wanted to go inside with them, you told her no.
"That's okay, I know what flavour and toppings you like." She smiled at you kindly. As Regina held the door open for Janis, you watched how they interacted, hoping that one day you'd find your own love too. You couldn't help but feel a little envious, or jealous. But ever since you fell out of the closet to over 1000 students, you've been nothing but an anxious mess.
There was a little bit of a line in the ice cream parlour, so you see them start talking- Regina said something that made her laugh. You loved that she made your sister as happy as she did. And she was a great friend to you. Janis turned around to take a peek at you, and she waves. You flashed her a little smile, getting back into your thoughts again.
————
"You guys can go back to school, you know that, right?"
"Yeah. But this one might punch some people and get herself for trouble, and I don't want that." Regina says as she scooped another mouthful of her ice cream onto the tiny wooden spoon.
"Like I would care."
"I would." Regina replies nonchalantly, "You have good intentions, and they deserve it. But I just don't wan you in trouble, you know? They're not worth it."
And so...they stayed with you. When 4p.m. rolled around, your company grew: Aaron, Cady, Damian, Gretchen and Karen show up. "Oh, my God." You muttered under your breath, "That's so many people." You liked them, and their company and they were the only people who believed you when this shit show started, so you really appreciated them. However, you simply didn't do too well with big groups of people showing up unannounced giving you little to no time to mentally prepare yourself. Oh, and they were always over at your place but you still felt this way anyway. Janis shot Regina, who was answering the door, a look. "Everybody's here." Regina confirmed. Maybe it was because they would all ask if you were okay or how you were doing or feeling...and you didn't want to deal with that. Or maybe it was because that made you feel like you were getting pitied on. The bunch of them must've already heard why Benedict and Sofia were called into Sutton's office.
Janis seems to have read your mind, asking the group if they'd already heard anything. "Oh, yeah." Aaron stifles a laugh, "Everyone was buzzing about it at lunch."
"Are they?" Regina smirked.
"Oh, no- did you start the rumour?" Cady asks, worried.
"Start it? Ew, no." Regina scoffs, asking for the bag of sour soda bottle gummies from Gretchen for you, "That's not my doing. The school already knows those two freaks are doing porn. I simply handed the evidence to Sutton. It's not my fault they all decided it was now okay to openly discuss their gross sex life."
"Thanks." You told her, accepting the half-eaten bag of sweets. These were your favourite and she knew it.
"Janis." Regina called her name to get her attention, reaching over to get some chips from the bag in your sister's hands. Janis tilted the bag towards, her letting her reach inside easier. "Thanks, baby." "Do you wanna switch with me, Regina?" You ask, seeing that you were currently wedged between her and Janis. "No, y/n. I want to sit with you and so does she, so, y'know."
"You two are watching me like a toddler." "And can you blame her?" Regina asks, referring to your sister.
"Fine, drop it." You sigh in defeat, Aaron reaches into your(well, it wasn't yours, but they let you have it) bag of sour gummies to grab a few. "Sorry, just wanted a couple. Didn't mean to startle you."
"It's fine." You muttered.
Awhile later, the mood eases up and the bunch of you were engaged in a conversation about current events, trending headlines...whatever. Anything but schoolwork, really. Suddenly, Janis' phone rang and she excuses herself. You got up to go get a drink from the fridge, looking at Janis who was talking on the phone with your Mother in the backyard.
'She's doing okay right now, Mom. She's hanging out with our friends. Yeah, everyone's here right now.'
That's all you needed to hear, focusing on nothing but keeping your mind clear now. It's been cluttered with anxiety, fear and negativity from the past few weeks but you were finally in your safe space, with the best people you've met in your life.
The bunch left right around dinnertime - but not before Cady handed you a gift (it was a Beanie Boo Husky that shared your birthday), and when they did leave, your parents returned. You hurried upstairs to avoid them. "Where is she-" Regina started to ask, Janis tilted her head towards the door, "Parents are home. She's exhausted- just let her hide in there."
"Well, it's not like they can't talk to her even through the door. That's what you did, baby." Regina smirked.
"Ku'uipo, where's y/n?"
"In her room. I don't think she wants to talk, really." Janis led with that.
"Okay, so what the school told me..."
"What did the school tell you?"
"That y/n was getting bullied by a couple of students, and that you two told on them to the school."
"In detail?"
"Yeah, I know she got pushed into lockers, called names, almost got kissed by the girl." Your mom reveals.
"Has she been in there all day, Janny?" Your dad quipped.
"No, she just went upstairs not too long ago." Janis informed.
"I still think we should t-" Your Mom sighs softly.
"Mom, honestly- she's not gonna say much. She's already said all she could about it to me when I pressed her about it. If you go in there asking about the same things, having her repeat all that? She'll be crying herself to sleep. No doubt."
"Okay." She agreed tearfully, "Um, okay. I'll go get changed then get started on dinner."
"Alright, thanks Mom." With that being said, your parents headed for their room to wash up after a day at work.
"Baby, do you want me to stay?" Regina asks as your parents leave the living room.
"Would be nice." Janis nodded, standing on her tiptoes briefly to plant a kiss on Regina's lips.
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raainy-daze · 2 years
Note
Could you do a Rise!Donnie x Male!Reader where the reader struggles with feeling like they’re an annoyance and that the turtles don’t actually want him around-but Donnie does his best to try and show or say that he is wanted (and probably struggles to show that because well… he’s Donnie). Thanks!! (Btw I love your writing so much 🥺)
Operation Feel-Welcome
rise!donnie x male!reader
summary: donnie found out about your insecurities in a very not privacy-invading-way at all, and now he’s decided to do something about it.
word count: 2431
a/n: why is this thing so damn long by my standards? GOOD QUESTION.
I HAVE NO CLUE.
yeah i wrote my outline and suddenly it was just. much longer than i usually write?? oh well. sorry for posts being somewhat slowed down recently, i’ve been busy with the holiday season and school! thanks for requesting, i hope you like this!
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◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤
He found out when he was reading your diary.
That sounds bad. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really. You were over for help with homework, and when you went to get something to eat, he picked up what he thought was your notes to get a grasp of the material. Who keeps their diary in a regular old notebook, anyways?
He hadn’t meant to read it, truly. It was just that the entry he’d opened to quite clearly had his name on it, and hey, how is he supposed to not read that?
That entry just so happened to detail all your insecurities about your social life. He was kind of shocked, really. He didn’t examine anyone’s emotions too closely, of course, he could hardly understand them sometimes. He didn’t know why you would feel this way. He loved being around you, even if he could only show it in his typical Donnie way (which is to say, not very well).
So, after briefly panicking when he heard you walking back as he still held your diary in his hands, he scrambled to put it back just the way you’d left it and spent the rest of the day more focused on how to remedy this than on algebra equations. (Granted, you didn’t notice. That guy could do most of these in his sleep.)
As soon as you left, Donnie had already built about a billion schemes in his head. Of course, in pure Donnie fashion, most of them were more than a little over the top and involved some level of explosives… okay, maybe that one was just an excuse to set something on fire, but there were some good ideas in there! Emphasis on idea. Not every idea turns out so great in practice, as Donnie ought to know by now.
•°. *࿐
Operation #1: Hang-Out.
Donnie decided to go with the simplest on his list first: instead of waiting for you to come to the lair, he’d come to you. Logically, if someone wasn’t wanted, they’d be the one initiating everything, right? And if he initiated it instead, that would certainly make you feel more welcome, wouldn’t it?
As always, Donnie’s ‘disguise’ was ridiculously simple. You were never quite sure how he didn’t get caught, but hey, this is New York City - people have seen weirder things, and have other stuff to worry about. So, walking down the street in his purple hoodie (albeit sticking to the emptier streets and the shadows), he went pretty much unnoticed.
Still glowing on his phone screen was your text conversation from about an hour ago.
Hello, (Y/N). What time do you get off school?
three, just like always
how come?
Would you mind if I met you after you get out?
sure??
everything good??
He hadn’t responded to the last text. He’d gotten too caught up in avoiding nosy kids asking about his skin to type anything.
At your school, Donnie found you sitting on the stairs leading up to the building, scrolling on your phone. He dodged around your classmates, apparently trying to go unnoticed. (He did not go unnoticed. You saw each of them give him a look.)
“Psst! (Y/N)! It’s me, Donatello!”
You blinked up at him. “Yeah, I gathered.” You grabbed your backpack and stood up. “Everything okay? Did Leo break an arm or something?”
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” You both began making your way down the sidewalk, going towards neither-of-you-really-knew-where. “I simply thought that…”
Donnie stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t gotten this far in his planning, as evidenced by walking towards he-didn’t-really-know-where. He had gotten to ‘meet up with (Y/N) on the surface’, but he hadn’t gotten to anything after that.
“…What kinds of things do you do for fun up here? We could, uh, do whatever that is?” He racked his brain. “You like that fast food place down the street, right? I’ll pay.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you need from the hardware store?”
“What?”
“When your being really nice to me like this, you’re usually buttering me up to get you something from the hardware store. What is it?”
“No, no, you just haven’t come down to the lair in a while, and-“
“I was at the lair yesterday.”
Crap, were you? He’d been holed up in the lab all day, designing updates for the turtle tank. No one had told him you were there.
“And I saw you the day before.”
Okay, that part he recalled. Bad excuse.
“Well-“
Your phone began ringing. You looked down at the screen, and back up at Donnie. “Crap, sorry, I’ve gotta go. Mom probably wants me back home. Just text me whatever it is you need and I’ll bring it around tomorrow, okay?”
And without even waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and answered your phone, walking away from him.
Operation Hang-Out: Failed.
•°. *࿐
Operation #2: Arts-N-Crafts.
Donnie wasn’t exactly the best at social interactions, everyone knew that. Yesterday, he’d made the fatal mistake of not planning ahead. He assumed something would come to him, and it didn’t.
So, maybe it would go better with someone who did know how to interact with people.
It was time for Mikey to enter the endeavour.
“Oh, dearest little brother of mine, I have a dilemma of which I need your help to solve!” Donnie found Mikey in the middle of one of his art projects, painting on a bedroom walls again. “How would you like to assist me?”
Mikey looked up from his painting. He had several splotches of paint across his arms, even a bit on his face (was he trying to eat the paint? How did he do that?). “Are you trying to use me as a test subject again?”
“Pft, no, why would I do that?” Donnie laughed a very suspicious laugh. “No, really, this time it’s about (Y/N).”
“What about (Y/N)? Is he okay?” Mikey set his paintbrush down, now curious.
“I read his diary.”
For just a moment of silence, the brothers stared at each other.
“… Wha-“
“IN MY DEFENSE, IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A REGULAR SPIRAL NOTEBOOK, HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”
Donnie explained the whole thing to Mikey, from the diary entry to yesterday’s failed attempt #1. Mikey agreed to help, and within the hour, attempt #2 was in progress.
This one was all up to Mikey. (Y/N) would be here any time now, and Mikey would insist that he needed your help with an art project. It wasn’t much, but the point was to make you feel included. Donnie smiled to himself when he saw you enter the lair and get dragged away by Mikey. There was no conceivable way this could possibly go wrong.
It went very wrong.
It went very wrong in less than thirty minutes.
To make a long story short, it turns out art supplies in the wider space of the lair combined with Leo trying to perfect a skateboarding move do not mix. Like, at all. Paint was everywhere, including on both you and Mikey. You had to leave and walk home covered in an uncomfortable amount of paint.
Operation Arts-N-Crafts: Failed.
•°. *࿐
Operation #6: Game-Night.
One after another, Donnie’s plans failed, as did the couple that Mikey offered. Eventually, they came to #6 on the list: risky, but promising.
You had never seemed to participate very heavily in game night before. You always seemed to appoint yourself as the score taker, opting to spectate instead. With the added context, Donnie couldn’t help but wonder if you did that to stay ‘out of the way’.
So, he’d test it by preemptively appointing Leo as score taker.
“But why?” Leo whined upon hearing the news that the majority had voted to back up Donnie’s decision.
“Because you spilled all my expensive paint!” Mikey narrowed his eyes at Leo as he carried a concerningly tall stack of board games into the living room.
“But I already cleaned that up!”
“Come on, Leo, it’s not that bad!” Raph pat Leo on the shoulder. “It’s, uh… good for math practice?”
Leo didn’t look very convinced.
Everyone gathered on the floor in front of Splinter’s old chair, making a circle around the board games. Donnie sat down next to you, and April was on your opposite side. You couldn’t help but notice how April was carefully examining the selection today - Donnie and Leo may be the most outwardly competitive, but you’d witnessed enough of these to know April was the real master at most of these games.
You followed her example. One of the first things you noticed was that this month, Uno was missing. You weren’t particularly surprised. Last month, Mikey had threatened to use an Uno card as a knife if anyone else gave him another +2.
It started off just fine. You started with Cards Against Humanity. It was fun. No death threats were made. Clue and Catan went much the same way.
It was Monopoly where it all went to shit.
“WELL, I WANTED TO BE THE STUPID THIMBLE, BUT I LET YOU HAVE IT. AND WHAT DO I GET FOR IT?!”
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOU LANDED ON MY SPACE!”
Mikey and Donnie were yelling, Donnie’s stack of money growing steadily smaller. Raph was stuck in jail, and April was quietly scheming. You were about 75% sure Leo, who was now the banker since there were no scores to be taken, was messing with transactions somehow. Honestly, that impressed you more than anything else. Pettiness levels were through the roof.
You pushed yourself backwards a bit as the argument began to escalate. “WELL MAYBE IF YOU DIDN’T TAKE THE THIMBLE EVERY STUPID TIME!”
“SINCE WHEN DO I TAKE IT EVERY TIME?”
“Okay, well, sometimes Leo takes it, but still-“
“Hey, don’t drag me into this!”
“I won’t drag you into this when you give me what I’m actually owed, Leo!”
Leo reached over for an unused piece. He threw it…
And it hit you right in the eye.
“OW-!” Your hand jumped up to where it hit you.
“LEO!”
“CRAP, I’M SORRY, I WAS AIMING FOR DONNIE-“
April was trying to get you to take your hand off your eye so she could check it, but taking the pressure off just hurt more. Thankfully, when she did get to see it, it didn’t look serious. It did certainly put a damper on the rest of the night, though.
Operation Game-Night: Failed.
•°. *࿐
Operation #21: Help-In-The-Lab.
It had been a month and a half since he read the diary entry. Nothing seemed to work. Nothing that he noticed, anyways.
Not all of his plans ended in total disaster, but none ever seemed particularly successful, either. You never seemed particularly happier than usual. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts and his projects that he didn’t even notice you come into the lab. He didn’t notice until you were sitting right next to him. “Hey, Donnie.”
“JEEZ-“ Donnie dropped his screwdriver.
You picked it right back up and handed it back to him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, you just scared me.”
“No, I mean in general.” You drummed your fingers on the desk. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”
Crap. You’d caught on.
Donnie let out that laugh that very clearly meant he was hiding something. “Oh, no, I’m fine! Weird? What do you mean weird?”
“I mean weird. Like the weird you’ve been since that time after school? You never texted me what it was you wanted, by the way.”
There was a silence as Donnie debated what to say.
“… Working on Sheldon?”
Donnie looked back down at the robot lair across the desk. “Oh, yeah. He ran into a wall a few hours ago, and now I’ve gotta fix him. Robots, amirite?”
You half smiled, but it didn’t look like your heart was in it.
“… Hey, mind passing me those screws?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” You grabbed the nail box he was pointing at on the opposite end of the desk and set them down beside him. “What is it you’re doing, exactly?”
“Oh, well, I’m mostly just fixing some dents. There wasn’t too much internal damage, luckily, I just had to change out a few wires.”
“That’s good.”
It was quiet for a while. The silence was just on that line where Donnie couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable silence, or… well, an uncomfortable one.
“Hey, (Y/N)?” Why was he talking?
“Yeah?”
“Would you be mad if I maybe, oh I don’t know… accidentally read a really personal entry in your diary because I didn’t realize it was your diary?”
“… What?”
Donnie hadn’t planned on owning up to it, but at this rate, he was getting nowhere. Screw it. “Well, you were here for homework, and I just wanted to check your notes, but they weren’t your notes, and I saw my name and I couldn’t stop myself-“
“Wait, what? When did this happen?” You looked more totally confused than anything else. “Which one did you read?”
He sighed. “It was talking about how you felt like we didn’t want you around. And that’s not true! It really isn’t. So I’ve been trying to make you feel more welcome. But… yeah, you remember the Monopoly incident.”
“Oh.” You paused. “So that’s what’s been happening.”
“Yeah.” Both of you were quiet. If it wasn’t awkward before, it definitely was now.
“You really aren’t annoying, though.” Donnie broke the silence. “I mean, you’re my favorite person.”
“Your favorite person? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I like hanging out with you. You’re… im-por-tant to me.” He said it like he’d never even thought of liking people. “And you’re my favorite person.”
He looked up at you again, expecting to have just made things worse. He was surprised to see a smile on your face. Not one that you didn’t seem to mean, like earlier. It looked like you really were happy.
“You’re my favorite person, too. And… thanks for trying.”
“… Did this one work?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did this attempt to make you feel welcome work?”
“I… guess so?”
“OPERATION HELP-IN-THE-LAB: SUCCESSFUL!” Donnie pumped a fist as he cheered. He checked ‘double-success’ in his mind when you laughed.
“Donnie, I literally handed you a few tools.”
“And it led to the success of my project!”
“Making me welcome was a project?”
“(Y/N), everything is a project.”
“Of course it is.”
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cherr-22 · 1 year
Text
TNGDH 22
“I still don’t know what I should do.”
Sen sighed.
“His Highness Belial is much more considerate than I had thought. If I agree to follow him to the castle, he told me he would take care of me so I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”
I snorted inwardly while taking a bite out of the sandwich in my hands.
‘Take responsibility my ass.’
Who knows how much trouble it might bring if he involves himself in her business. Would a prince even have the time to protect a mere maid? Sure he would, if he plans to marry Sen that is.
“What are you pondering about? If I were His Highness Kyle, you’d be rooting for me.”
Sen clasped her hands together and looked up to me, her eyes open wide and sparkling, waiting for my answer.
I avoided her gaze as I nibbled on my fried ham and cheese sandwich.
“I’ve made up my mind, but I’m worried…… worried that I won’t be able to accomplish what I want.”
I glanced at her while licking off the bread crumbs on my finger tips. You said you wanted revenge. Why can’t you do it? Do you not have enough power?
The expression on her face looked to say that she knew that even the easiest path may also be a path full of thorns, so her worries didn’t seem to be anything about that. It may be a sense of helplessness on a more fundamental issue……
Between annoyance and curiosity, the latter got ahead of me. I made a subtle remark.
“What are you worried about? You’re smart and hardworking. Struggling from the lack of power and authority will only be temporary. The you I know will surely be able to accomplish whatever you want if you put your mind to it.”
That’s right. It hasn’t been long since we first met, but I knew this for a fact.
Sen is that kind of person. She will always go a step beyond the limits a person would set to oneself.
I could feel her determination. The determination to live on and to not stray from her own beliefs and values.
This is why I am not overly anxious about the story of this world, despite working hard to prevent Kyle’s death.
Sen can achieve everything she can possibly want to achieve without anyone’s help. In the time one would look back and regret their actions, Sen would take another step forward and eventually reach her goals.
It would’ve been better if <Winter’s Heart> was a fairytale. Everyone deserves to have the happily ever after. Sen, me, and also Kyle.
Suddenly, the contents of the original story popped up in front of me.
[“Your Majesty Belial. Could this be fate? For you, who resembles His Majesty the late Emperor, and I, who resemble my mother, to become so intertwined. Please tell me. Is this a coincidence……. or is this karma?”]
At first I couldn’t understand why this appeared. Why am I being shown something between Sen and Belial?
I know however. The system would never show me anything that wouldn’t be useful. Even the smallest details would have some sort of meaning.
[(´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)]
No, not emotes. Those are usually useless.
[(´。_。`)]
I swiped away the emotes and carefully re-read the story contents from before.
‘Fate, coincidence, karma…….’
Human relationships can’t be neatly organized into those three categories. Belial wouldn’t be able to easily reply to a question like that. So, that shouldn’t be the point here……
Ah. Sen resembling her biological mother.
“Sen.”
I said as calmly as possible.
“Did you say that you wanted to avenge your mother?”
“Yeah. Due to some various incidents, she fell from her position from a baron family. I also heard she was once nominated for Serena. However… I’m sure you know. The nobility is always full of fights, with no knowing who started it. It could’ve been a fight for authority and everyone pretended not to know anything……”
Ah, now I understand.
There was now confidence in my voice.
“Then go.”
“Hm?
“You’ll know when you get there. Who is your enemy, who wants to get rid of you. Don’t miss anything and look around you carefully.”
Sen’s enemies will definitely recognize her. After all, she resembles her mother. They will see her and will want to erase her existence. Just like they did to her mother.
And if I were to guess from what Sen said in the story, one of those enemies would be Belial’s biological mother, the preceding Queen Serena.
“Would that be enough?”
“Of course. Also…….”
If she’s going against Belial’s mother, she definitely has to go with Belial.
The first step towards revenge is returning back after the passing of many seasons and seeing the shock on the faces of those who thought they had perfectly trampled everything down.
“Don’t let go of Belial.”
Whatever emotion it is that compels her is fine. Belial Serena Meinhardt. He will be Serena’s clue.
Sen began to ponder by herself. I couldn’t give her comforting words, but at least I conveyed the words she needed.
It seemed she decided to trust me. I’ve only shown her my suspicious and shady side, but she nodded her head with a boldly.
“Good. That’s what I’ll do.”
“You said you disliked the cold here in the North, so it worked out for you well.”
Then it seems I won’t be able to see Sen for a while. Will she be ‘Serena’ by the time we meet again, as according to her will?
No longer wishing to influence her fate, I felt that it was now time to step out of her life.
“Take care. Don’t be sick.”
“Shu.”
Sen looked at me quietly.
“Whenever you need help in the future, I will definitely come help you.”
I nodded and said yes.
It felt strange. It’s been a long time since someone told me they would help me, so those words sounded foreign to me. After my uncle ran off with all my insurance money, I couldn’t trust anyone anymore. 
“Great. Don’t even think about taking back your words when that time comes.”
I laughed.
And then I prayed. For a happy ending to come to Sen, whether it would be through fate or a miracle.
[The possibility of Sen finding the correct revenge has increased!]
[The threat to Kyle Blake’s life has been reduced.]
[Current Miracle Value 23.0%]
If the miracles of saving a person’s life could really make everything perfect, then perhaps that would really be a life like a miracle.
*
As expected, the life of a hamster is the most comfortable. No need to worry about anything and without Kyle around, I could enjoy my time on my own.
I’ve earned quite a bit of Miracle Points. I wouldn’t use them often since these points weren't permanent, but it’s still good to have them in case of emergency.
There will definitely be items like the ‘Long-Lasting Acorn Cookies’ from before that can help turn the situation around.
Let’s see…….
‘Show me everything you’ve got.’
[(⊙ˍ⊙);;;]
Why, what. Is this your first time seeing the strength of a nut?
### He is flexing the amount of Miracle Value points he has
Give me everything you’ve prepared. No, give me everything including the ones you haven’t finished preparing too. Look at me trying my hardest to do good deeds. Let’s be nice to each other, ‘kay?
‘Come to think of it, didn’t it say it had a renewal opening?’
I was curious about the other pages I couldn’t see before. Kyle hasn’t come back yet, so I could look over it slowly.
[☆*: .。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆]
[!Nut Store!]
Good, good.
[Knock Knock Pistachio Shell |Miracle Points 2% consumption|1-time use Master Key. It can open any lock!]
[Sweet Almond Tart |Miracle Points 5% consumption|You can transform into something else for 1 hour.]
Wow.
They’re worth as much as they’re expensive. The durations are short, but I am a ham- no a person who mastered the usage of ‘Summon’ despite its short duration.
As I tried to turn the page, another system window appeared before my eyes.
[NOW LOADING…….]
‘……Is it not completely made yet.’
Well, developing isn’t an easy task. Take your time.
While inspecting the system window thoroughly, I saw a new heart-shaped button in the right corner. What is this? Is this also a shop?
[Love Love Corner~❤]
‘Ah.’
Before I fill up my Miracle Value, I hope I can hit the system just once. I calmed down my emotions and clicked on the Love……. anyway, I clicked on it.
[Fluffy hamster yarn! | ❤×1]
[Small and precious knitting needle set | ❤×1]
[Try making one yourself! 79 styles of hamster clothes| ❤×2]
[Replica hamster to soothe the loneliness (Duration : 30 minutes) | ❤×100]
This time, the currency unit was not Miracle Points
‘Heart? What is that?’
[Currently Possessing Hearts | ❤×312]
[Products bought in the ‘Love Love Corner’ will be recognized as an ‘Item’! Both customizable and adjustable!]
When did I possess so many hearts!? I’ve never even collected them!
‘This, no way this is…….’
*
My life…….
I looked over to Kyle with a rotten expression on my face. And impressed by his affection towards me, I pushed my front paws onto the rope.
“You ride well, Cashew.”
He said with overflowing satisfaction.
I sat on a piece of wood held up by two thin ropes and swayed on it helplessly back and forth.
It was a swing that Kyle brought over.
Who bought this thing. Don’t tell me, Sen? This…… is this how you repay me back after helping you…….
[||ㄱ―||]
I know, my expression looks exactly like that emote. We both know I look like that, but only that bastard Kyle doesn’t know.
Kyle continued to push the swing I was sitting on while making noises unlike of his character.
“There you go! Try stretching your legs a bit further. You are holding on tightly to the rope right? As expected, you must be enjoying this a lot.”
―Squeak. (Stop it.)
“Sen said you’d like this, since you are such an active child always running on the hamster wheel.”
―Squeak……. (Bullshit…….)
Sen. ‘m gurnna gill you……
### “Sen. I’m going to kill you……” with clenched teeth in frustration
Doing all this doesn’t mean I’ll lose weight or form a mana stone, and yet it seems he’s already quite happy seeing me play like this. He looked truly happy and had a soft smile on his face.
“From magicians to veterinarians to a demonic beast specialist… you have no idea how much I’d do for you.”
Hearing those words, I pushed my bottom harder while letting out a deep sigh. The swing creaked and began to swing a little faster.
Kyle then let go of the swing. I pushed myself against a pillar to rock myself back and forth.
The wooden swing made cheerful and light noises as it swayed fast. Kyle was so moved seeing me shake my bottom that he began to clap.
Sigh. It sure is hard to play with you.
[Currently Possessing Hearts | ❤×320]
As long as you’re happy…….
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Main / Next Chapter
T/N: Please don't hesitate to message me through Ask Me Anything if there are mistakes! Also, consider tipping me if you liked my translation here. Every tip will be an extra chapter released the week after, plus early chapter access for members!
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diaday333 · 6 months
Text
Hymns/prayers for the Dead
I’ve never really considered reading/ writing hymns for the dead because I guess I never “needed” them, but with the tragic events going on the world right now, multiple gen-c-des and atrocities, I’ve felt moved to write these. Like I said in my last prayer post, keep speaking up, b0yc0tting, and keep praying! You can technically apply these prayers with any dead, but I had the m@rtyrs of Su-dan, Con- go, Ethiopia, and Pale - stine (breaking them up on purpose) in mind, as well as anyone else who have lost their lives due to the terrible events going on in this world and from their oppression. Also, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors.
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We call to Hermes Kαταιβάτης (he who leads souls down to the underworld), guider of souls. Immortal guide, lover of humankind, you take special care of us when we leave this earth, and your involvement shows the Gods’ love of humankind, as there is a God with us every step of the way, even after our deaths. Gracious God, during these times we ask for your grace, and for you to take extra care of the souls that find their way past the river Styx. Everyday now, thousands of people die from acts of cruelty from oppressors emboldened by hubris. We ask you to treat these souls with added care, especially those of children, taken from life too early, while you escort them to the dread queen's home or wherever their final resting place may lie. Charm them with your wand and bless their heavy eyelids, bringing them a peaceful end for their final rest. Oh Lord, guider of mortals, grant a sacred end to those who lived the best they could.
(Greek pronunciation: Kah-teh-vah-tiis(ees))
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To the Savior of the dead and the noble queen herself, we call to you! Dread Persephone and shadowy Hades, though you may not take every soul into your wide walls, you watch over the dead nonetheless, those who wander your fields of flowers. We thank you for your mercy towards our souls, notably of the most restless ones. We ask that they can find joy in the afterlife, especially those who were robbed of it. Not only do you take in these souls, Lovely Persephone, you exact justice on their behalf, with your kindly attendants, or daughters in some ways, the Erinyes, especially during these harrowing times. All we ask is for justice and a peaceful afterlife for the many martyred people of all the atrocities going on. We thank you, Hades and fair-tressed Persephone!
—————————————————————————————————————
“Fear the prayers of the oppressed.” I heard that today and I thought it fit. The Gods are with us and the oppressed during these times 🤲 They hear every prayer and they are outraged as we are. Keep up every action and don’t forget about our fellow humans suffering and don’t stop fighting!! No act of oppression goes past them and they hear everything. It’s been almost a year for Su-Dan, almost 6 months, 160+ days for Pale - stine, and years for Con-go. The Gods count each day and count each person who say and do nothing. I just want add some of my favorite excerpts that get me through these hard times and reminds me that the Gods care (which we already knew, but yknow).
“The gods are not blind to men with blood upon their hands. In the end the black (kelainai) Erinyes bring to obscurity that one who has prospered in unrighteousness and wear down his fortunes by reverse.” - Aeschylus, “Agamemnon”
“Hear, Tisiphone, Allekte, noble Megaira, revered goddesses whose Bacchic cries resound. Nocturnal and clandestine, you live deep down in the dank cave by the sacred water of the Styx. Men's unholy designs do incur your anger; rabid and arrogant, you howl over Necessity's dictates, clothed in animal skins, you cause the deep pains of retribution.” - (First part of) Orphic hymn 69
“Hear me and be gracious, 0 renowned Eumenides, O pure daughters of the great Chthonic Zeus and of lovely Persephone, fair-tressed maiden. Over the lives of impious mortals you keep a careful eye, in charge of Necessity, you punish the unjust.”
(First part of) Orphic hymn 70
“For whoever knows the right and is ready to speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity…” - Hesiod “Work and days”
“You princes, mark well this punishment you also; for the deathless gods are near among men and mark all those who oppress their fellows with crooked judgements, and reck not the anger of the gods. For upon the bounteous earth Zeus has thrice ten thousand spirits, watchers of mortal men, and these keep watch on judgements and deeds of wrong as they roam, clothed in mist, all over the earth. And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly.” - Hesiod “Works and Days”
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doll-elvis · 1 year
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I don’t care about her living off of Elvis but I kinda wish Priscilla didn’t erase his other girlfriends from his story like Anita Wood, Ann Margret, and Linda Thompson
this is an interesting topic for sure. I’ve wondered if anyone else has noticed that there is kind of a hierarchy in the elvis world regarding girlfriends and friends of elvis. and it can especially be seen by what elvis presley enterprises chooses to promote
like for example, Dixie Locke and Priscilla became good friends later on in life. And I think that has influenced Dixie Locke’s book being sold on the Graceland website and maybe even why she was shown in the Elvis movie. You would definitely never see something like Ann Margret’s book or Joyce Bova’s being promoted. I have noticed that elvis presley enterprises doesn’t want to put any attention on girlfriends whose time with Elvis overlapped with Priscilla’s, like Joyce Bova, Ann Margret and Anita Wood for example.
even at Graceland where Elvis’ tcb ring is displayed I heard that the tour guide doesn’t mention that the diamond on it isn’t the original, and that the original diamond is with Ginger Alden as it was used to make her engagement ring which she still has to this day. regardless of what you think of Ginger, to completely ignore her engagement with Elvis is crazy to me
As for Linda I was honestly really surprised that she had no mention in the Elvis movie at all. I understand the movie was more about Elvis and the colonel’s relationship but to ignore almost 5 years of Elvis’ life with Linda is crazy. But I think it was to show some narrative like Elvis was never able to move on from Priscilla, which I don’t think is true and is unfair to women like Linda, Sheila and Ginger who had significant relationships with him. Idk how much control Priscilla actually has, especially now, and from my understanding she wasn’t involved in the movie but I sometimes think maybe Baz did certain things to appease Priscilla but I can’t say for sure👀
I think all Elvis history is worth knowing, and it’s definitely not fair to just pick and choose
what do y’all think?
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dduane · 1 year
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Hi! I really like Scrappy, and I heard you've worked with some TV writers for Scooby-Doo?
I'd like to ask you some questions, but before I do I wanna say some things:
In fact, I looked up the writer’s guild stats and you actually wrote some of the episodes for the original show he was on, as well as some shorts!  “Neon Phantom of the Roller Disco” and “When You Wish Upon a Star Creature” are both really solid episodes and a lot of people really enjoy the Star Creature’s futuristic design! Of the shorts episodes you did I think "A Bungle in The Jungle" and "A Close Encounter of the Scooby Kind" and "Surprised Spies" the funniest. I could go on! But then I would never finish this ask ^^;
And I gotta tell you this. I may have been born decades after those episodes aired, but I’ve seen every single one-the first season, the 99 shorts, the 13 ghosts, the New Scooby Doo Mysteries, the DTV trio, all of ‘em, and I absolutely adored them, thank you so much for helping with that. 
When Fred and Velma and Daphne disappeared, after 1979, did Scrappy have something to do with it? I know Duane Poole said in an interview that Scrappy was easier to focus on, and that Fred and Velma, and Daphne had a hard time competing with his energy or something, but the executives wouldn’t have thrown all their eggs into one basket with the pup after one season, would they? I have to know. Even if it turns out that’s what happened, I know that it’s not really Scrappy’s fault either way, I’m just curious.
I've heard from Mr. Poole's interview that when you were figuring out Scrappy and stuff you guys just gathered around and brainstormed with Joe Barbera. Did you or anyone else that you know of look to past ideas for inspiration?
What was the favorite episode you wrote?
I also heard from Mark Evanier’s account that Scrappy was originally feistier but some scripts were altered. How were the scripts changed before and after that alteration?
Also, in the nineties, why did Scrappy go away? I mean, I know some people didn't like him, but it was more just "he had his time" not the kinda hate you saw in the early 2000s right?
This is un-Scrappy related. Did you guys do your own blocking, did anyone at HB ever split the writing and blocking between multiple people? Just curious.
Also, I know that the original Scrappy series gets some hate, but I am not one of them and there are so many people who love the work you did and what Scrappy-Doo means to them. You guys did an awesome job with the series and there are tons of fans who still remember and cherish the work that you and the others did. Don’t let the haters get you down. Thank you SO SO SO SO MUCH!
First of all, thanks very much for your kind words! The work I did on Scooby-Doo And Scrappy Too! was my very first animation work, and besides being a shed-load of fun, I learned an incredible amount about screenwriting in general, and animation writing in particular, from Tom Swale and Duane Poole (God rest them both). They were fabulous teachers, patient and smart—a pleasure to work with, and (in between work times) extremely funny guys whose senses of humor meshed perfectly with mine.
About Fred, Velma, and Daphne disappearing post-1979: unfortunately I wouldn't be in any position to know whether Scrappy had anything to do with that. I'd very much have been the newest and most junior writer in the room (and we're talking about a time when there weren't even "rooms" as we think of them now: they hadn't been invented yet). But though their job title was "story editor", in terms of the work they were doing, Tom and Duane were what we would now think of as showrunners... and those deliberations and/or decisions wouldn't by any stretch of the imagination have included me. :)
It's interesting to hear what Duane had to say about the disappearance. But I feel pretty sure that a decision involving so many characters would not have been made solely at Tom's and Duane's level. Some kind of approval or signing-off would've had to happen at the highest executive levels at H-B... or at least that's my take on it.
As for brainstorming with Joe Barbera: it seems to me quite likely that that was just how things happened. Hanna-Barbera at that point was a surprisingly comfortable, casual kind of place—relatively friendly to newcomers, and with a sense of under-the-surface goofiness that tended to surface without warning. The founders, in particular, had a reputation for being very hands-on and accessible. I kind of regret that those brainstorming sessions were before my time.
Re: favorite episodes: you'll have gathered that I did a fair amount of writing for Tom and Duane over the years (there's more detail on my IMDb page, which fills in some gaps but still isn't complete...), so frankly it's hard to pick a favorite. But the first one I tend to think of is my very first one, "The Hairy Scare of the Devil-Bear". ...And honestly, one of the funniest things about the scriptwriting process on these was the business of crafting outlandish titles: the goofier, the better. Tom and Duane were past masters at this... and no one will ever get me to discuss the really dirty ones that were floated during story conferences. ...Anyway, I've always been a bit of a Tuckerizer, and in that first episode—though it wasn't anywhere near as polished as later episodes would be—I had so much fun sneaking in the very first of what would become any number of friends' names. A simple pleasure, perhaps. But hey, I'm a cheap date. :)
Re: Mark Evanier's comments about earlier Scrappy scripts: Mark had been working at H-B for a good while by the time I got there, and I'd consider his opinions important. But I've got no useful data on how scripts might have been changed before I got there. Sorry I can't be of more help on this.
As to why Scrappy might have gone away in the 90s….? I don't really have any useful data on that either. By that time, I was in the early stages of being married to @petermorwood and living in Europe, and was out of the loop on things that were going on at Hanna-Barbera.
Finally, as regards blocking: when one was writing animation in the 80s, the received wisdom was that one should write almost entirely in "master shots"—so that one didn't call specific angles in the screenplay unless they were extremely important. The idea being "Don't direct in the script. Let the director have something to do." And blocking would certainly have been included in the concept of what the director was supposed to be doing. ...But at the same time, story editors would naturally have seen the storyboards that were produced in-house, and would have had input into angles and camera movement at that stage… So, in that way anyway, blocking and writing were certainly split.
Meanwhile, thanks again for the nice words about what we were doing! It was very enjoyable work, and the continuing popularity of these shows makes it more enjoyable, even now. :)
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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months
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I don’t think either Harry or Meghan are raising their children, just their answers to basic questions and how they talk about their children at whatever age shows they have no clue about developmental stages, what kids like or do and how they interact with others such as their parents -
I think they’ve had a team of Nannies since the start, albeit a revolving team of Nannies once they realise that Harry & Meghan are wanting the Nannies to be 24/7 caregivers and for themselves to not be involved, which scares Nannies off as that sort of mindset to raising children is seriously unhinged and unhealthy -
I do think Meghan when she is around the kids controls everything they do, what they eat, what they say and act and will punish them if they don’t do exactly what she says when she says - that whole pepper & salt at the same time for example, Archie shouldn’t be forced to do that and should be allowed to figure things out for himself, make mistakes as that’s how kids learn -
I’m not a mother or even an aunt but I do have cousins with children and friends with children and how Meghan in particular interacts with her children is eye-opening as it’s obvious she doesn’t hold them as she doesn’t know how to, when you’re raising a baby even with Nannies, that is something you learn quickly - how to hold the baby, whether it’s feeding time or just cuddling as it’s something you need to know
Whenever we’ve seen Archie or Lili, or with the latter, how we’ve heard others talk about how she acts - both sound like seriously depressed kids which is sad, Archie looks like he’s been put through the ringer that one time Meghan did a FaceTime with Doria - I’ve never seen such sad eyes on a young boy like that - also any mother would’ve had her child properly dressed when she did the first birthday reading event with Archie in a babygro and full diaper, and he didn’t want anything to do with her - and Lili always seems to be cold and grumpy, which if anyone who has ever been around kids, they’re hardly ever such
I do think Tom Jr was telling the truth about her being a danger to children whether it’s physically or emotionally or psychologically, but seeing how her mask slips and how angry she can get with an innocent child like she did in Dublin 2018, she is not someone I’d want around my children - and I think Catherine and Charlotte experienced that first hand
Fair.
Personally I don’t think Meghan and Harry are baby/toddler/young children people. I think they both prefer children that are older - Harry because he’s an emotionally stunted 12 year old who can play better with them, Meghan because older kids are more controllable and malleable in terms of their behavior.
But the thing about preferring (or liking better) an older age range is that first you have to go through the younger years. And if you don’t really develop the bonds in the younger years, then the older years are going to be rougher because the kid won’t know what to do.
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solarbird · 2 months
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The long arc of Boomer politics, of resistance, and what Millennials & Zoomers can win starting now
Yesterday, I wrote – mostly to GenX, but also to Millennials and Zoomers – about holding the line one more time. In that post, I talked a little about how some of us have been doing that job this long in order to keep some semblance of a Republic until the cavalry – in the form of a group larger than the Baby Boom – could show up, and still have the tools to take power peacefully, and in a timely fashion.
Today I’m writing for Millennials and for Zoomers. I’m going to expand on yesterday, talk about history, talk about why politics have been as they’ve been in ways you maybe haven’t heard before, and I’m going to talk about the massive opportunity you have now to change this fucking game.
But I have to talk about history first. There’s context, and you need it.
Most of you reading this have never seen actual Generation X politics. Unless you’re from Seattle, or the greater Seattle area, you definitely never have. You’ve only seen Baby Boom politics. What you’re seeing now is still Baby Boom politics, the underlying dynamic unchanging and now crystalised, ritualised, and radicalised over the decades since they took power.
That’s happened in part because the Baby Boom never wanted to talk to anyone else, and didn’t have to. They had a saying – “don’t trust anyone over 30” – that inverted and became “don’t trust anyone under 30″ the moment they hit their 30s. As a group, they’ve despised everyone younger than them my entire life, writing early on that GenX was either “a generation of Darwinesque hyper-predators” (fun stuff if you’re 12) or “useless lazy slackers incapable of achievement” from the very beginning. Most of the time it manifests as simply being locked out and ignored, but I’ve had that raw generational contempt thrown directly at me, more than once – even here in Seattle.
But the thing about Seattle is… we outnumber them here. It’s the only place in the US where we outnumber them. They’ve had to deal with other people, whether they liked it or not. Because of that, they couldn’t really lock into that inward-facing self-reinforcing spiral. They had reality checks and external feedback they had to grapple with, and so… their politics stayed way, way more normal.
So if you want to know what Generation X politics would’ve looked like in a more traditional American pattern, where each generation is larger than the previous – hi. It’s in Seattle, and to a lesser degree Washington State. We’re willing to elect socialists who call themselves socialists and actually have something like a centre-left, and it’s not just downtown.
I mean, there are reasons that Donald Trump didn’t win the white vote here, and this is a big part of it. According to exit polling at the time, he didn’t get the non-college-educated white male majority here in 2016. It was close! But even with the dry side of the state involved – a lot of which is rabidly christofascist – Donald Trump didn’t even win non-college-educated white men, his core, statewide in 2016.
(It’s also a factor in why the Battle of Seattle could happen, I am just saying. I was there.)
But outside Seattle, and outside Washington State, you’re generally looking at Boomer politics. And I think Generation X has always kinda known that was going to happen, in that we were never going to have a turn at power. Certainly not at the national scale.
Some of us, in fact, have not just known that but have also understood it, which is a different thing. I spent enough time east for school, I could see what was coming and how it was going to play out, and how it was going to be such a long, long war for the Republic – and largely, an effort just to hold. To be a backstop. A centre-left line to keep civil society and elections until someone bigger than them could finally come along.
The fact that we even managed to win on a few fronts – queers, I’m looking at us, but not just us – that was amazing. And also outliers, let’s not kid ourselves. But I’ll take those victories and celebrate them.
So when everything looks so rigid and hopeless and stale, and when you’re seeing “elections don’t fix it, everything just gets worse,” that’s why it looks that way, even when it isn’t actually like that.
Because thanks to their sheer size, their sheer numbers, the Boom just plain outmassed everyone else since like 1980 and everyone’s had to play by their rules all this time.
We could win a round here and there, and even make some real progress in narrow but important areas. But we couldn’t change the game. Hence our fight to keep a civil society not in the politeness sense but in the sense of functional institutions sense, and the fight to keep elections not in the “technically there are elections” sense but in the “elections that can have outcomes Republicans don’t like” sense.
We are at the very tail end of that war now. We have almost won a war most people haven’t even been aware that we’ve been fighting.
2024 is the last best shot they have. They want to keep power, because of course they do. They grabbed it early – skipping ahead of the Silent generation – and haven’t talked to anyone else about power since, just like so many of them never talked to anyone outside their cohort they didn’t have to. But this year is pretty much the end of their dominance unless they can rig everything to keep the appearance of power until they actually die, and they know it.
And by “they know it,” I mean, I actually heard Boomer rightists saying things to that effect in 2016, amongst themselves.
That’s why everything changes after this election, but not during this election. 2024 is the tipping point. Still the old rules, but hopefully the end of them.
If we win – and we will win if we fight – it’ll be because Millennials and Zoomers stepped in and said “that’s enough, grampa.” And everyone who actually works and understands politics will know it.
And since everyone will know it, everything – EVERYTHING – will start to re-orient itself around you. Around Millennials and around Zoomers. It won’t be all at once, but it will absolutely happen.
As long as you keep showing up, as long as you start doing the work, every mechanic of power, every political interest group, every big money, every piece of the machine will start to turn towards you. Because whatever else may be true, the professionals know where the power lies, and it’ll lie with you.
Not us, not GenX. We have a voice in Cascadia, and I love my country-not-a-country bioregion, but that’s the only place we get one. The power brokers will skip us, like they always have. They’ve never figured out how to market to GenX, they thought they were going to “own” Millennials (literal quote there on ‘own’ btw), and they have no idea at all what to do with Zoomers and I thank the gods for it.
It’ll be you, Millennials and Zoomers. You. You will be the ones everyone cares about, as the new power centre of politics. The Baby Boom will try to grab power back, but as long as you keep showing up, they won’t pull it off. In practical terms, it’ll be over.
If we win. Which we will, if we fight and fight together.
But for this election, we’re still under the old rules. The Baby Boom rules, the Baby Boom politics, the Baby Boom control. That’s why I’m praying this can be GenX’s last hurrah as a resistance force, and that’s why I write so much about holding the goddamn line once again, just like so many of us – not all of us, but so many – have done our entire lives.
One more time, no matter how much you hate having to pick between two doddering old monsters…
…we gotta hold the line. We gotta hold the line for your sake, and for our own. Just like we always have.
But after that?
After that, as long as you keep showing up…
…it’ll be all about you.
You’re so close to being able to start taking power and setting the agenda. After all these years, it’s finally the time when you can actually start to do it.
But you gotta help us hold the line in ’24, first. We gotta hold again one, last time, the old way.
And then it’ll be yours.
If you’re willing to take it.
Are you ready?
110 days remain.
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[extended commentary and a lot of replies at source]
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louisisalarrie · 3 months
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Hii... Hope you're well:)
So i was wondering about louis' fanbase. From what i've seen a lot of them, even if they believe freddie is his kid, don't seem to care that much about his sexuality no? Like in harry's fanbase most girls want him to be straight and believe he is. However i haven't seen this happen a lot in case of solo louies.
heya!!! hmmmm I would have to disagree with this one, I think. also this turned into a bit of a welcome to the show moment. so, anon, welcome to the show!
believing F is Louis’ kid is an acknowledgement of his sexuality being anchored, somewhat, towards women. Some may believe he is bisexual/fluid and accept that, but there are a lot of louies who are straight up just against the idea, and some that are pretty neutral. Their main argument is that he does have a kid, which means bbg did its job, and proved to be effective with a new, and expanding, audience that didn’t see him grow throughout 1d.
I’m not in any way suggesting that I strictly for a fact know that Louis isn’t bi or doesn’t have an interest in women, because that’s not been disclosed. However, I would lean towards the fact that he is only interested in men, due to the things I’ve heard, his obvious contrast of behaviour when around them, the amount of and degree of stunts including the party boy louis push, and his mannerisms compared to when he’s around women. So, not only do I believe he doesn’t have a kid, but also that he’s not interested in women.
And I do think there are neutral solo louies who are just like “yeah he could be queer, but that’s none of my business”, but there have been a lot of louies who actively attack people even entertaining the thought. Also, it’s more the idea that he’s ever been with Harry, that they reject. Which is bizarre, like, you believe he may be interested in men, but god forbid it’s Harry?? They pair him with absolutely anyone but him. I’ve had them in my inbox, it’s chaos hahaha.
And same goes for solo harries. There’s this toxicity around the idea of larry, but a lot of them seem to be fine/neutral with the idea of Harry being queer. Though, he again, could never be with louis. It’s truly just… baffling, but also, a lot of these folks didn’t watch them through their journey, a lot of them even refuse to acknowledge 1d because it’s still “not cool” to love a boyband. I’ve seen some absolute gross shit said about both louis and Harry’s time in 1d, but these people don’t care. They’re focused on their fave solo career.
Anyway, this also relates to the very stark contrast in Harry and louis’ images right now. Seeing louis smoke, both pot and cigarettes, and drink, in comparison to Harry who we never really see that side of, is a divide between “wholesome and healthy”, and “laddy and rock and roll”. It’s dark tracksuits and singlets, and it’s bright colours and more feminine/non traditional outfits. It’s louis not talking a hell of a lot on stage to show his personality more, and Harry blocking out parts of his show just for crowd interaction. It’s Harry waving rainbow flags and louis not doing that. It’s louis “having a kid” and not being super active in his life, and Harry not having that extra weight on his shoulders. People seem to take louis’ image at face value a fair bit, and solo harries use that against him. So I’d say it’s a little bit more of the opposite of what you’ve said above.
I dunno, at the end of the day, we’re not gonna see the truth of these fans and how they react, until there is a coming out, in my opinion. Some people will turn against them, some will just be like “ok cool”, and some will rejoice. It’ll all come out in the wash.
Louis being stunt free, apart from bbg, for a while, has been good though. Once they drop that from his career, it’s a slow seeding. It’s the last thing they need to do before a CO. and if they drop bbg, get the boys (Harry particularly) back involved in louis’ life to “support” him through such a wild time, it’ll just be growing to a CO from there. Particularly now that Harry’s publicly single now. It’s the last step, and they can do it positively for louis, and in turn, positively for Harry, and combine the fandoms a little more which will HOPEFULLY stop so much aggression between us and the solos.
Anyway sorry this kind of evolved into something else but thanks for the inbox, anon! <3
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