#he never left his freakin house without one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-time-to-write · 1 year

Text

This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know.

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

—

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face.

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt.

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging.

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory).

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

—

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind.

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry.

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.”

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour.

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting.

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.”

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days.

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit.

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.”

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!”

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room.

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

—

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him.

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

632 notes · View notes

catierambles · 7 months

Text

Blood Moon Ch.7

Pairing: Syverson x Annalisa Caulfield (OFC)

Sy reached for her when he woke, but the other side of the bed was empty and cold.

“Annie?” He asked groggily, but there was no answer. “Babe?” Opening his eyes, he sat up, looking around. Her phone was gone from the nightstand and he didn't see her shoes where she had kicked them off. “Annie?” The fog finally lifted from his brain and he winced, his entire mouth sore, as if— “No.” Grabbing his phone, he opened up the calendar, looking at the moon phase. Full. “Shit shit shit fuck.” He quickly dialed her number but it went straight to voicemail. “Annie, it's Sy, I—please, just call me back. I need to talk to you about somethin'.” Fuck fuck fuck. Goddamnit, he should have been more careful, should have kept better track of it. She probably thought he was a monster. If he went too long without, the full moon took that choice away from him.

No blood, no torn sheets, so there wasn't a full transformation, but she had seen something that had terrified her, making her leave before morning. His mouth being sore gave him a good idea of what. Dialing her number again, it went straight to voicemail once again, but he hung up without leaving another message. Blood edged his fingernails, darkening the quicks and he got up, heading into the bathroom and scrubbing his hands.

Shit shit shit.

Tiffany never knew, she never saw that side. He came back from Syria changed and his relationship went down in flames before it ever became an issue.

Quickly throwing on clothes, he left the apartment, almost forgetting to lock the door behind him in his haste before hopping in his truck and tearing out of the parking lot.

Her SUV was out front in the circular driveway and he parked behind it, getting out and heading up to the house.

“Annie?” He asked, knocking on the door solidly. “Baby, it's me. Please...please open the door. I...” Cedar and sage. “I can take a guess on what freaked you out and I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you, I promise, when we had been together longer. Not even my family knows and I—” The lock clicked back and the door opened, allowing her to peek out. “Annalisa, I...” It opened wider and she stepped aside in a silent invitation, letting him in. “Baby, I'm—” It cut off as she wrapped her arms around his chest, holding him tight and he released the breath he didn't know he had been holding, returning her embrace. “I was gonna tell you.”

“I believe you.”

“You're not scared of me?” He asked.

“Scared?” She asked, pulling away to look up at him, “Sy, I'm relieved.”

“What?” He asked and she took his hand, pulling him into the living room. They sat down on the couch, Annalisa still holding his hand.

“Sy.” She started, “Kyle. You're not the only one who has been hiding something.”

“Annie?” He asked and he watched the thoughts cross over her features before she sighed, her lips parting to show her top and bottom canines and he watched as they lengthened, becoming razor sharp. A beat, and they shrank back down again, returning to normal, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You're a...”

“Vampire.” She said and there was a beat before he started to laugh. “Sy?”

“Baby, do you know how much I was freakin' out about this?” He asked, “I was runnin' a thousand bad scenarios through my head and you...”

“Yeah.” She said, “You're not angry?”

“Angry?” He asked incredulously, “Annie you think you're relieved? Were you gonna tell me?”

“Eventually.” She admitted and he sighed, still chuckling slightly. Tugging, he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his chest.

“No wonder I've never seen you eat. You don't.”

“Not food, anyway.” She said, “You're taking this very well.”

“Sugar, I turn into a Hollywood wolfman and my girlfriend is a damn vampire.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” A weight was lifted from his shoulders, and he was guessing from hers too, as there was no reluctance as she relaxed against his chest. Tipping backwards, he pulled her on top of him as he stretched out, their legs tangling. Holding her in his arms, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, hearing her contended sigh. “When did it happen?”

“Syria.” He said, “Right before I left the service. My team and I were on patrol when we were ambushed. I was the only one to come out on the other side.”

“I'm sorry.” She said, burrowing into his chest slightly.

“Yeah. I could feel somethin' comin' on in the hospital, so I got the hell outta dodge. Shifted in the middle of nowhere and just rode it out. Brass gave me a medical discharge when I said I was done.” Sy explained, “When'd it happen to you?”

“About four hundred years ago.” She said, “I wasn't attacked, though, I chose this. The man I loved and married was a vampire and he turned me on our wedding night. Very supernatural romance novel.”

“Eugene?”

“Hell no.” She said and he snorted. “Eugene was later.”

“What happened to your husband?”

“He's dead.” She said, “Killed by a Hunter.”

“There are...”

“Yeah.” She said and his hands rubbed at her back soothingly. “It was a long time ago.”

“He was still your husband, Annie.” Sy said, “Is Caulfield your married name?”

“Yeah, he was Lord Markus Caulfield.”

“Which is why Whats'er-Tits called you “Lady” Caulfield.” Sy said and felt her nod against him. “You slummin' it with me?”

“No.” She scoffed, her hands spreading over his ribs.

“Explains the house.”

“I got this house built when this city was a single road and a couple shops, I love this house.” She said, propping herself up on his chest.

“It's a nice house, but you're kinda leanin' into the vampire stereotypes a bit much with it.”

“Says the man who can put down a mid-rare porterhouse in record time.” She said, “Leaning a bit much into the werewolf stereotype?”

“I could do that before I started howlin' at the moon. Always had a big appetite.” Sy said and leaned forward a little, pressing his lips to the small furrow between her brows before relaxing again. “I'm just pokin' fun, baby. Ain't nothin' wrong with your house.” She rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” She said, “Even with you...being what you are, I was still scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of how you would react.”

“Have I ever givin' you the feelin' that I would hurt you? Ever? About anythin'?” He asked and she shook her head.

“Never.”

“Then you had nothin' to be scared of, baby.” He said, “Even if I wasn't what I am, I woulda gotten over it.”

“How do you know?” She asked and he reached up, tucking a lock of hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear.

“Because I told you, we're forever.” Sy said, “You're my endgame. Wolves got Mates, Annie, and you're mine."

"We have them, too. Called Tovaras." He arched a brow, "It's Romanian. Dracula language."

"For?"

"Direct translation? Companion. The full term is Tovaras de Viata, or Life Companion, but it gets shortened down."

“Then why not just call it that?” He asked with a chuckle.

“I didn't name it!” She said, “I thought Markus was my Tovaras, but when he died I...” She sighed, “I was devastated, obviously, but it didn't destroy me.”

"And Eugene?"

"Should I question how you knew Eugene was like me?"

"I got eyes and he's a bit of a try-hard." He said and she snorted.

"Eugene was...he was later. It didn't last very long." She said and sighed again, laying her cheek against his chest. "You're my Tovaras."

“And you're my Mate.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #blood moon

22 notes · View notes

zippidi-dooda · 2 months

Text

Guys dreams are the craziest place,

Like, a few nights ago I had a dream that I was in my old house but it was different with a lot of boarded up doors and even extra ones that couldn't be opened at first but the next couple of walks through the house left doors slightly opened or had ways to be opened. I walk through one door in particular and it led me to a shower, like no bathroom or path to get into the shower, just open the door and you're in the shower. And in the shower I see Malleus, with his back turned to me, who magicked away his horns which I assumed was to make washing his hair easier. Um, in "real life" he needs his horns, his looks so weird without them. I don't for sure know what made him do that but honestly I wasn't put off by it, like it wasn't as disturbing to see hornless Malleus in dream as it is awake, it looked natural. Didn't see him much after that, the interaction was basically; he looks at me for a second before tuning away and scrubbin', "Hey, Malleus, what's up," hums in response not looking back, "Okay, cool, imma go explore the rest of the house now ... you missed a spot by the way." As if that was a normal occurrence or something??? Anyway, that was that,

This latest dream in particular was about Fellow and Gidel (no, I haven't seen their event yet cause I want to go through it fresh when it comes to EN, all I know is the characters look cool and cunning, there's something about puppets and control, and I want to get all the cards from the event)

Anyways, here's how it went.

It started off with me going shopping at Walmart with I don't even know who, Ace and Deuce might've been there, but it was a large group of people. And from some reason the day was going backwards, like it started at night here, the next part it was late afternoon, and the final part was early evening.

So, we bought our things, standard hangout equipment like snacks and stuff and things for dodgeball cause we were gonna play later. Then we go to my old backyard cause it's huge and would be sufficient grounds to play on and talk about who knows what for a bit until someone decides, "hey, let's go to a professional dodgeball area, like a know this place nearby."

So we go over there and it's like a giant indoor basketball gym with a chill little "restaurant" nearby (in quotes because it wasn't that fancy type, but served food and had nice seating. Fancy but not extreme and blended in with the court).

And that's when I first see Fellow and Gidel, they just came in and were all like "Oh, sweet ... people are here. Hey, you're gonna play dodgeball? Mind if we joined in?"

The group I was with didn't want to let them but I said yeah so everyone else allowed it, I think vaguely in the back of my mind I felt I should know them so that's why I said yes cause in real life I'd feel awkward/reluctant about letting random people join an outing too. Bear in mind that in my dreams it never registers that people are from a game or a show or anything, they feel real as if our universes blended or something and it's just natural.

Anyways, we split teams and play around for a bit, don't know which side won, then we decide to take a break to eat at the restaurant that's connected to the place. Didn't have to pay, no one was working there but somehow our food just came out to us.

We're eating some really good home-made, stone over pizza with thick flakey crust (don't ask why I remember that, I just do, it was amazing) and I'm sitting there across from Fellow with Gidel curling up next to me, he was probably tryna pick my pockets for all I know, but I think he's adorable so I allow it anyways. Me and Fellow are talking about who knows what for a while before the group's all like "Alright, time for some more dodgeball."

So we go over to the court, in position, ready to play again, when all of a sudden the freakin' police come in, they walk around interrogating for a bit and eventually say they're looking for Fellow and Gidel.

Everyone is nervous and just trying to get through the interaction and as the police get closer to me and the boys, who have just been quite and trying to hide behind me the whole time, and they start bolting for the door.

I'm like "Hey!" And start chasing after them cause I guess I'm crazy, so they grab my hand and start dragging me along with them with the police hot on our tail. It's bright, morning with clear skies out now and right nearby is this giant indoor play area or like clown maze without clowns or something, which I'm assuming they own or they at least are familiar enough with the place to not get lost in there, and they let me go to get in faster but once I'm in there they have vanished and the doors have been locked behind me meaning I won't have to worry about the police for at least a while. But the way to get inside the place is to solve riddles and puzzles and finding clues and I have never been here before so I have no idea what to do.

I'm started to get scared cause now I am alone and essentially trapped which is horrifying for me, plus it's oddly quiet for this to be a play place and the police just outside. But I try not to panic and instead start searching around for clues.

There's the large, really cool looking door with neat carvings on the frame right in front of me I'm trying to get into, a wall of padded squares of all colors to my right and a giant gaping mouth of a red tunnel slide to my left which has a sign above it that I can't read.

There's a bit of random papers and clothes scattered along the floor and wall so I try to see if I can make sense of those. I go look at this stack of pinned paper in that's on the side of a tall dresser right at the edge of slide and as I flip of the pages, I hear these noises coming from the slide. Internally I start freaking out cause I don't know what's in there and since it's a tubular slide the noise echoes and sounds distorted making it seem way scarier to me. I stand there, hoping that "if I stand in this corner and don't move, maybe it won't see."

I stand still, the noises getting louder as the thing gets closer to the end of the slide, I'm about to have a heart attack just waiting to see what it is, the thing clunks against the sides of the slide, I hold my breath, and finally the thing come flying out of the tube. It's ...

"Grim!?"

"Henchman!"

My buddy ol' pal is back with me again, I am safe, and now much calmer. I scoop him up, put him on my shoulder, and am ready to get back to searching for a way in. Don't know how he got here, didn't ask, but I know that as long as he's right here, I'm okay, nothing's as scary anymore, and I will not let him leave my sight and get separated in this place again.

We keep looking and then ...

And then I wake up.

Kinda sad, I wanted to reach the end of that story.

Why are Fellow and Gidel being searched for, how did they just disappear like that, was all that a trick to just trap me in here or did they forget I don't know the way like they do, will the police ever catch up, what would the police do if they only find me, will I ever find the duo I followed in here or will I just get stuck in an endless loop of trying to find ways to get past each and every locked door in this place never to escape becoming entertainment for the mysterious pair who can probably watch me from the cameras if they so desire, or will they use the cameras and stereos around the place to help me find the right way out?

We'll never know.

Anyways, moral of the story is don't follow people into strange places, especially if they're being chased by cops, and yeah.

Does anyone else have crazy dreams like this? I'm curious to see what goes on in other people's minds. And if there's a way to revisit dreams, like going on to the next episode, I'd love to know cause I think the endings would also be insane.

Anyways,

Don't sleep, keep dreaming, peace out gang

#dreams #twisted wonderland #twst #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst fellow #fellow honest #twst gidel #giddy would probably by gidel's nickname honestly

8 notes · View notes

betterthancoffee402 · 4 days

Text

Is this really love?

“Emily, for the last freakin time, don’t get in my way.” My “boyfriend” screamed at me.

I love him, I really do, it’s just a matter of if he loves me or not. I mean he took me away from my semi-abusive parents last year. But, I’m constantly asking myself, “is this really any better?”, Josh (my boyfriend) is constantly treating me like I’m some cockroach he found in his house one day.

I really wish life wasn’t as hard as it is, I wish that Josh would one day wake up and realize everything he’s ever done to me. And then he would treat me like a real girlfriend.

I can’t just leave him though, because he’s all I have. He may be controlling and rude, but he used to be carefree and kind. And I’m hoping he’ll one day be like that again. He probably won’t, but hey, can’t a girl dream?

the next morning**

“Hey babe.” I said to Josh with a smile as I set a plate of delicious buttery pancakes and sweet sugary syrup in front of him.

“What?! Oh, hey I guess.” He replied in an annoyed tone.

I tried to smile as sweetly as possible, as to not anger him. But he huffed and grabbed my wrist tightly as he lead me to his room and threw me at his saucer chair. He left the room and I waited there anxiously, wondering what he would do next.

He entered the room and stood over me, still not saying a single word. I gulped and waited for my boyfriend to finally speak. But he didn’t, instead his fist did the talking as it connected with my cheek, surely leaving a bruise.

A tear rolled down my cheek and soon my vision blurred. As I fell to the floor in pain Josh’s foot repeatedly connecting with my stomach.

——————————

1 hour later**

I woke up confused, why was I on the ground. Then I remembered as soon as I tried to sit up, falling miserably. My boyfriend had hurt me, and not just verbally this time. I was shocked, confused, and sad. It wasn’t a surprise, because of the way he had been acting previously. But it still hurt.

Now there was only one question

How do I leave?

He’d find me. And this would repeat again. I knew I could stay here, but I can’t go home either. Maybe I could call my ex-best friend, I mean we’re only ex-best friends since Josh made me lose all contact with the people who used to be in my life. I still have her number though.

I luckily still had my phone in my pocket from breakfast. I slid it out and opened my messages. I texted My ex-best friend, Mia, and she responded surprisingly quickly.

Emily: Mia, I need to leave can you help

Mia: Emily? What happened? What did Josh do?

Emily: I’ll tell you later, but for now I need help escaping him.

Mia: Okay I’ll drive to the target by your house, you just need to sneak out.

Emily: Sounds easy enough, Josh is probably at the pub again

Mia: Okay Em stay safe, bring all of your stuff and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.

Emily: Wait, how am I supposed to get there

Mia: Shoot, I’ll go to the end of your street, do you think you can walk there?

Emily: Yes, thank you so much

Mia: Okay, see you in a bit, stay safe -XOXO

I got up and quickly gathered my stuff. Hoping that Josh would never find me. I’m so thankful for Mia, I truly don’t know what I would do without her.

—————————

Later (In Mia’s car)

“So tell me what exactly happened Em.” Said Mia anxiously waiting for the response.

I told her everything that had happened ever since Josh “changed”.

After I told her the most recent thing that happened she gasped in shock and reached over to hold my hand. “I’m so sorry Emily, I should have never let that jerk take you in the first place.” Mia said, a tear rolling down her pale cheek.

“It’s okay, my parents probably would have down the same thing as him.” I reassured her

The rest of the ride home was spent in silence. Once we got to her house we started unpacking and talking, catching up on everything we missed over the year, and then we lived happily ever after.

Or at least that was until Josh returned……..

#Abuse boyfriend

2 notes · View notes

alilbihh · 2 years

Note

!!!!! um... I don't know if you want to write about new ones or not... but I also can't think of any new ideas since I'm freakin out a bit but I'll do some more thinking so.... um... a short little drabble or maybe a snippet of their lives in spring leaves after they confessed, how life is fr them now....?

i had a really fun time with this one, thank you to my designated spring leaves fan for requesting :) I hope it's up to your standards!!

masterlist

words: 1.5k

There is a quiet peace in marriage that you’re still coming to terms to.

It goes beyond learning each other’s habits, or making time for each other, or even whispered words of love. It is more the realization that you are loved— the knowledge that you can take care of yourself, but now, you are creating a space where you can take care of each other. That you could be trying to open a particularly difficult pickle jar and Jimin could take it and say “Let me help you,” that in it, there exists a prayer for which no words are said: You could do it yourself, but why should I let you, when I am here, and you are loved?

That being loved in this way is a choice, one that you both continue to choose.

Jimin chooses this, still, as he runs in tune with your pace, when you both know he could leave you in the dust.

(That morning, a gentle arm tries its best to slip out from under your head without waking you. When you groggily come to, even in your haze you can see the guilt on Jimin’s face.

“Sorry,” He says, pulling his arm out the rest of the way to run a hand through your hair.

“S’okay,” you croak, cupping the back of his head to pull him back down to bed. He’s smiling as he complies, lets himself be pulled, be held, and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he wraps his arms around you, too.

Just as you’re trying to gather your thoughts into one coherent sentence, Jimin pipes up from where his nose is pressed into your shoulder, body twisted into an awkward angle as he leans into you, “Gotta go.”

“Where?” You say, then, “Oh. Running? Don’t go. Let’s cuddle instead.”

You feel his lips move before the words are even formed, feel the way they curve into a smile. “I can’t. And we cuddled all night already.”

“So what? Are you tired of me? Am I not appealing to you anymore?”

“So dramatic.” He laughs quietly. “You could always go running with me.”

You think for a second. It’s not like you don’t want to keep him company, moreso that if you were to try and get up, you’re pretty sure your legs would turn to jelly. You would barely walk, let alone run, given that it’s—you squint at the clock(oh my god, is that a seven?)— well. Very early.

Except.

“I’ll run with you.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

“Yeah. Cuddle for thirty minutes and I’ll run with you.” He gives you a dubious look. “I’m serious! Set an alarm. Thirty minutes.”)

As he stops you from snoozing the alarm for a third time and practically puts your shoes on for you, you’d already accepted the fact that he’s well built. Jimin stretches, and jogs, and lifts, and it’s not like you can’t run, rather that you’d prefer to be doing, well, anything else.

Still, he works to match your pace, a gentle rhythm on the pavement as you make your way around the house, through the garden, past the greenhouse. Not through the forest like he usually does, since it’s dry around this time of the year, and the fungi would rather be left alone.

Well. A water break would be nice.

“We’re almost at our bench,” He’s saying, and you’re struggling to understand him past the need to lie down on the dirt and die. “We could rest up a bit and continue, yeah?”

“Good. Good plan.”

You practically collapse on the bench. You’ve sat here plenty of times, what with the way it sits neatly between the garden, the hydrangeas and the back of the house, but never have you felt so relieved to have leftover humidity and dried up dirt on your butt. You pat the bench in thanks. Good bench.

Your head lolls against his shoulder. “I don’t like you.”

“You offered to come! We made a fair transaction!” He laughs, his skin sun-kissed and sweaty and pretty. He leans his head over yours, “C’mon, it’s just a mile left, back the way we came.”

“A mile? Still?”

“It’ll be quick! We can walk the rest of the way.”

Your voice is muffled from how your cheek is pressed to his shoulder, “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of going on a run?”

“If you can be a smartass that means you don’t have to sit anymore,” He feigns getting up long enough to draw a whine from you, and he’s laughing when he leans back. You move to glare up at him indignantly, and take the opportunity to stare. He’s so bright. The sun rose twice this morning.

You bump your forehead back against his shoulder, and he seems to take that as an opportunity to kiss the crown of your head, hands working their way over your arms and down to your hips. “Still don’t like you,” You grumble.

Another kiss. “What was it you said to me yesterday? Something like...'You’re weird and that’s why I like you?’” Jimin presses a trail of them up to your jaw, letting them linger.

“A lapse of judgement.” You say, but you’re melting into him anyway, and when he laughs, it rumbles through his chest and down your throat all the way to the tips of his hands where they now touch your bare skin, the very edge of where hip meets belly.

“Brat,” He smiles against your neck, half-whispered. His hand trails down further until it reaches your fingers, playing with your wedding ring. Something fond flutters in your chest. “Do you ever think about our wedding?”

“All the time,” You say, voice embarrassingly breathy, but you’re too scraped raw to come up with excuses for it. “Still dream about it sometimes, too.”

“Yeah?” He says, soft, but there’s a trepidation, there. Like he’s still trying to find the best way to words his thoughts. You love that about him, so you hold his hand back, letting both your rings tap together delightfully, giving him the space to think. After a while, he continues, “I still regret those first few months. How I treated you.” You open your mouth to reply, take a breath and everything, but he pinches the skin of your hand to stop you, “I know you say I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Because that’s the thing about Jimin: he gives too much of himself away, loves too openly, too eagerly. Never asks to be more comfortable, as long as the other person is. His heart stretches to make room until it bleeds, like a mother’s womb, and you’re worried about what will happen if it ever were to stretch too thin.

(You’d told him, once— you don’t have to please anyone, you know— and, please, put yourself first sometimes, Jimin smiled, a little sad, said: I don’t know how, anymore.)

“I never blamed you for it.” You’re so close you can feel each time he draws a breath. It’s soothing. “There was nothing to forgive.”

“You say that, but. But.” He makes a soft noise. “I didn’t make it any easier.”

I am very much in love. It’s not new, nor a belated sort of realization. It was a belated realization at one point, surely, but not now. Now, it’s as worn through a fact as any other you know, something else to tuck away for safe-keeping.

You are in love, and so is he, and so even if the beginning was rough and unfair, everything that happened in your life that led up to it has been worth it.

You hold him a little tighter. “Not everything can be easy.”

For a moment you both sit there, listening to the gentle breeze, the distant sounds of the waking world. There’s a far-off chirp, like that of a baby bird learning to sing, and overhead, the early morning dew is giving way to a foggy sky. Spring is on its way again. Each one is getting easier than the last.

After what feels like a long time, Jimin raises his head. You stare. Not everything can be easy, but this is. Loving Jimin is the easiest thing in the world.

“Do you want to get married again?”

For a moment, you feel the world’s axis start to tilt towards the sun.

“What?”

He smiles, something slow and tentative. “Wll you marry me?”

Inexplicably, you laugh. “Again?”

“Again.”

“Jimin.” You feel Jimin grow in happiness. You feel like you’re growing, too. “If this is because you feel bad—”

“No. I want this.” He draws circles over your fingers, tightens his hold. “I want this very much.”

Never has the world felt so vibrant, and so, so lived in.

“I think.” You breathe. “I want that, too.”

(“Can we celebrate both anniversaries?”

“Brat.” Jimin laughs, all curled up around you. Has he always been this warm? “I’ll make sure to schedule the wedding on the same date as before.”

“What the hell!”

He’s still laughing as he kisses you, both hands cupping your neck, and there’s no hesitance in how he loves you.

You think, for a moment, about how every question you had about loving Jimin has been answered: He smiles into his kisses. He rolls his head back when he laughs. And—

He tastes like the sun.)

#bts x reader #jimin x reader #witch bts #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts jimin

17 notes · View notes

ozma914 · 8 months

Text

The lawn mower before that lost its life when I pulled the handle to start it, but failed to notice the rope didn’t retreat back into the machine, where it belonged. Then I mowed over the rope. It wasn’t pretty. My father eventually took that mower to his Home for Mistreated Machines (established in my honor), where it happily whacked away for years more, without a care. (In other words, without me.) The one before that is the Infamous Exploding Lawnmower, which caused the first ever Level One Hazardous Material Emergency in the history of Noble County, and was featured on both CNN and “The Simpson’s”. The parts that could be located are on display in the Smithsonian, after being borrowed by an investigation team from the History Channel program, “Engineering Disasters”. What I’m saying is, I have a history. After the most recent lawn mower sacrificed its lifeblood (still visible in a dead patch of grass that spells out “help me”), a friend let me borrow his. I know – dumb friend! Ironically, the mower ran just fine under my borrowship. It was a freakin’ miracle. Then my friend gave me the mower, maybe assuming it was tainted. He wasn't wrong.

Oh yeah, and this happened. Those wheels are supposed to go in the same direction.

My mowers never screw up the same way twice. One time it's the starter rope; another time a cracked head (not unlike the one I got from a low hanging branch); then it’ll be sheets of flame and a towering mushroom cloud. So I’m mowing the lawn the day after the mower officially became mine, and it stops. Just stops, after once around the lawn. I manage to get it started. Once around, it stops again. After some effort, including changing the gas, oil and sparkplug, and some imaginative praying, I get it going again. Once around, it stops. Changing fluids is the extent of my capabilities. Yes, I can change the sparkplug, but that task once led to me regaining consciousness on top of the neighbor's car. But eventually, a realization hit me: When the mower leaned toward the right, it kept running. When it leaned toward the left, it stopped. Every time. I had a conservative lawn mower.

Okay, but how do I go the other way?

Luckily, very little of my lawn is level; in fact, there’s every indication the entire property is sliding downhill. The US Geological Service estimated that within the next hundred years my house will be west of the old car wash on the next block, which is bad because right now it’s east of the car wash. The same team that handled the Leaning Tower of Pizza is working on the problem. But my lawn can't wait a hundred years, so my solution was simple: Keep the mower’s right side pointed downhill at all times. I gotta tell you, that’s nowhere near as easy as I thought it might be: * Sooner or later, you’ve got to turn around. Otherwise, the neighbors will get annoyed. * When you back up, you can’t watch both the mower and the dog droppings. * Slipping while pulling a lawnmower toward you is the closest thing you can get to an instant of sheer terror without being in a plane crash. * Pulling a lawn mower toward you is dumb. This was a genius way to torture me. I possessed a mower that was perfectly capable of mowing, as long as it’s tilted in one direction. Why replace it? That’s money I could use for other things, like utility bills, food, or crutches. Besides, this is Indiana – I’m surprised there aren’t more right leaning lawn mowers. So I spent the next few years wearing out one side of my shoes. Sometimes I think my lawn can’t slide away soon enough.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

Substack: https://substack.com/@markrhunter

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember, if you don't stop to read, your lawn mower might inspire the next disaster movie.

0 notes

sublimecatgalaxy · 3 years

Text

Off The Deep End

Pairing: Platonic!Fezco x Reader

Summary: Reader's having a difficult time with her mental health so her best friend Fez takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: Heavy talk of mental health anguish and swearing.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: Hi guys! I got a request to write a platonic Fez fic with a reader who's been struggling with her mental health. Hope you guys enjoy❤️

Fezco had been my best friend for the longest time.

As long as I could remember back, he was there. I remembered a time when he still lived with his dad, when he'd come to hang out at my house with black eyes and bruises littering his cheeks. I remember when he moved in with his grandma, when Ashtray came into the picture, when his grandma took a turn for the worst.

I was there for everything. He told me anything and everything that happened to him down to the littlest moments in his days. He told me about Lexi Howard, their ongoing bashful and flirty relationship. He was head over heels for the girl and, though his grandma told the both of us to never fall in love and to not trust those feelings, he did anyways. And I was proud that he ignored her warnings and fell into the deep end.

But Fezco has been my only friend for the longest time.

People would come and go, here and there. Old friendships would reignite, fizzling out soon after. It was difficult to maintain a relationship, a friendship, without feeling like I was too much for them, a burden. A noose.

Fez always told me that I could never bother him, that he enjoyed spending time with me and nothing I could ever do could drive him away. He was in my life for the long run so no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I didn't deserve him, he would still be there.

That didn't mean that I didn't feel the overwhelming urge to push him away when things got rough. He had enough going on, between his personal life, taking care of his grandma and Ash, his other friends. Not to mention is drug business. When things would get rough, the covers being pulled up to my chin as I contemplated not getting out of bed for days, I would ignore his messages, his incessant calls.

He worried about me more than anyone and maybe I was selfish for pushing him away. I knew that he just wanted to help, to care for me. But I couldn't stop the thought in my mind that he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to pry his way into my house, urging me to get out of bed, to eat something, drink something. He shouldn't have to do this for me, he had better things to fill his time.

But Fezco was stubborn and he went above and beyond for the people he loves.

This had to have been the sixth time he's called me this morning, our plans of going to breakfast being tossed out the window as soon as I woke up. I could tell that today wasn't going to be an easy day, that it would just be best to stay in bed and avoid burdening anyone with my presence today.

Tapping the screen of my phone, I see the multiple messages from my best friend along with the missed calls that he's left me.

We always went out to breakfasts on Saturdays. This would've been the first one I've missed.

From Fezzz: You ready?

Hello?

You up, kid?

That's it, I'm callin u.

Seriously, u freakin me out.

I stare at the message through teary eyes, my head shaking as I toss my phone onto my lap. I had voicemails from him too, messages that I couldn't bare to listen to right now without diving into a pool of self hatred for leaving him hanging.

The phone buzzes again on my lap, but this time it's not Fez, it's Ash. My eyebrows pull together nervously, my lip tucked in between my teeth as my finger hovers over the answer button. Pressing it hesitantly, I raise the phone to my ear with a sigh.

"Yo, can you, like, fuckin' answer your phone or some shit. Fez is over here freaking the fuck out." Ash huffs, my eyes closing as I feel my bottom lip wobble. The tears tumble down my cheeks as I take a shaky breath in, sniffling loudly. "Ayo, you okay?" Ash asks, his voice changing to something more gentle, Fez's voice heard in the background.

"Yeah, honey, I'm okay. I just 'm not feeling so good today." I whisper, my voice hoarse as I lie, my body turning over to curl up into a ball. "Tell Fez to stop worrying, I'm sorry for not answering him." I mutter, my breathing slow as I stare at the medication on my nightstand. I know that I have to take them but the voice in my head tells me to just stop, they weren't even doing their job in the first place anyways.

"Well, I know you won't like this but he's already out the door. Have your door unlocked." He doesn't say anything more, just ends the call as I let out a forced breath.

He always did this when I wasn't 'feeling good'. He knew what that meant, he knew that I was against caring for myself right now so that would mean that he would have to come over and do it for me.

The last thing I wanted was someone going out of their way for me right now.

Hearing his car pull up outside, I take a slow deep breath, knowing whoever's home right now will let him in. My room is dim, the only light coming from the cracked window above my head and it's quiet, just how I like and need it to be.

I listen closely as he speaks downstairs, always getting caught up with my family. They always loved Fez, how much he cared for me and protected me. They knew that out of all the friends I've had in my whole life that he was the most special. Because he was just that, he was special.

My stomach swirls anxiously as I hear footsteps outside my door, fingers knocking gently at the wood. I grunt in acknowledgment, the door pushing open to reveal Fez behind it. He smiles softly at me, his eyes flickering to the ground as he shuts the door, stepping further into my room.

"Hey, kid." He whispers, his feet carrying him over to my side of the bed as he kneels down. He places a water bottle in front of me, his assumption that I haven't drank anything today being correct. His head tilts at the sight of me, his brows furrowing in frustration. "Why didn't you tell me it was gettin' bad again?" He asks, reaching out to gently push some hair from my face. I huff with a shrug, my eyes fluttering away from his as I cling to my blankets. He falls silent for a moment, his head turning to look at the bottle of refilled pills. He frowns, knowing that, by the amount in there, that I hadn't taken them in a few days. "You gotta stay on top'a these, ma." He whispers, his fingers wrapping around the bottle. He opens the cap with a click, his fingers prying one out as I groan. He forces the water bottle into my hands, my eyes rolling. "Don't make me shove it down your fucking throat." He chuckles quietly, my lips parting as he drops the pill in my mouth, watching me as I take a few swigs of the water. "See, not so hard?" He taunts and I scoff, a small smile on my lips as he sighs. "Alright, scoot over." He smiles, my body rolling as he lays down next to me with a sigh, his arms resting behind his head as I gaze at him.

We sit in silence for a few moments, knowing that this was all I wanted. I just wanted to have someone that got it like Fez did. It was this constant internal battle of whether to let him help me or push him away once more. But I decide that I just wanted him here, just laying next to me in a comfortable silence. So maybe, just this one time, I'd let him care.

"You wanna hear 'bout my date with Lex?" He asks quietly, his head tilting to look at me as my eyes widen. "Yeah, yeah." He chuckles bashfully, the smile on his lips radiating happiness. It made me happy to see him like this, my heart swelling as I listen to him talk.

I could listen to him go on for hours about Lexi. He loved that girl so much that it was almost ridiculous. This man was the perfect gentleman, he was caring, kind, soft, protective. And Lexi and I adored each other, the two of us ganging up on Fez whenever we could. I guess I could consider her a friend too.

The way that he talked about her, it made me hopeful that I would meet someone who looks at me, who talks about me, in the way that Fezco talks about Lex. With everything going on in my mind it seemed a bit impractical to think that far ahead but, it was something, right?

"Ash was worried when I told him you were MIA." Fez whispers, my heart breaking at the thought of worrying Ash. I take a deep breath, my eyes fluttering shut as he continues. "You can't disappear like that, Y/n. I know you can't promise shit because you not okay right now but..." He trails off, his voice dripping with pain. "I would not survive losing you, you know that?" Tears slip from my eyes as I sniffle, my eyes opening to meet his. I just send him a quiet nod, an unknown weight crushing my chest. His blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears, the weight of his worry for me crushing him.

"I just don't have any energy and I'm tired of making everyone worry." I whisper, his head nodding softly.

"And I get that. But you gotta take your fucking meds. You gotta show me that I don't gotta put a leash on you and take you everywhere I go. You gotta show me I can trust you to be alone right now." I close my eyes with a frustrated groan, my hands reaching up to rub over my face.

"You can't, Fez. I can't be trusted to take my meds and you can't trust me to be alone right now." I answer honestly, some of the weight leaving my shoulders as he scoots closer to me, taking me in his arms. I lay with my head on his chest, his hand resting gently on the back of my head. "I don't want to be this leech that attaches to people, begging them, needing them to care for me cuz I can't do it myself." I cry, fisting the material of his t-shirt under my hands.

"Okay, but fuck that. I'm here, I'm telling you I'm here and I'll do anything to help you get back to feelin' better." He whispers and I know that his words are true. But I can't help but continue to beat myself up over it. "Let me help." He adds, his hand rubbing my back gently as I sniffle. "You gotta let the people who love you help." I nod, my eyes shutting tiredly as I yawn. "So from now on, you're settin' an alarm on your phone, you're gonna take your meds. You're gonna answer my texts and calls and you're gonna come hang out with Ash and I at the store." He orders, no strength left in me to argue. "I'll even pay you. You can stock shit or whatever." He laughs, a teary giggle leaving my lips as I send him another nod. "Alright." He whispers, the weight rising off of me fully as I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat beneath me.

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

Taglist: @jamespotterswifey @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @letmebeyoureuphoria @rafecameronswhore @4lyssasworld @write-from-the-heart @ariianelle @vampviolets

Dangerous Woman Taglist: @garfieldsladybird @jackierose902109 @shawnieeboyy @eatmybuttfromtheback

Euphoria Taglist: @usernamelol @ssprayberrythings

Fezco Taglist: @fudgemesteveharrington

#fezco #fezco x reader #euphoria series #euphoria #fez x reader #fez #fezco fanfic #ashtray #fezco x y/n #fezco one shot #fezco fic #fezco euphoria #fez euphoria

694 notes · View notes

cherrydreamer · 2 years

Text

April Prompts #10 Sun and #11 Brass

Another lil entry for the April Prompts challenge Sun & Brass As glad as he is that it’s far, far behind him now, there's a part of Billy that wishes he could go back in time and see the shitshow that was his teenage life just once, one time so he could talk to his teenage self and reassure him that it's all OK. That it works out. That he gets…everything. Acceptance. Happiness. Love. With a guy. With the guy. Steve. The perfect one. The one who's currently basking in a golden glow because someone left the curtains open a crack last night and now there's a whole patch of morning sunlight spilling over one side of the bed. Their bed. Because they spend every night in a bed together because they live together. Happily. And wouldn't that just be a thing to tell his younger self,

Yeah, I know, it sucks now, and you’re angry at the world cause it seems like it'll always suck for you, but it doesn't, kid, it gets better, so much better. Because you fall in love. And OK, yeah, I’ll admit that sucks for a while when you think it's just you, when you can’t see how it could ever be anything but just you feeling it. But then…then he tells you. He feels it too. And it's…damn, it's everything. Everything. All that shit you want but you pretend you don't cause you think you don't deserve it? Well you get it. I mean it, forehead kisses and holding hands and date nights and flowers and stuffed toys. He damn near breaks you with how much love he has to give. Wants to give. All to you.

Beside him, Steve shifts, grumbling in his sleep, and Billy reaches out to pull him closer, smiling when the little frown on Steve's face disappears the moment he's got his head resting on Billy's chest. And it keeps on coming, Billy would say, all that love. Months of it while you both get out of that shitty town; years of it, through crappy apartments and crappier jobs. That love between you never fucking falters and then one day you wake up and you’ve gotten kinda chubby and he’s got a sprinkling of grey hairs that only make him look even hotter and you’re living together in your perfect little house by the sea with your fat-ass cat lounging on the couch. And you’re both still as madly in love as you’ve always been. Kid, you…you get it. All of it. Happily ever after. And he makes you realise that you did deserve it after all. Steve shifts in his arms, nuzzling closer, smushing his face right into the crook of Billy’s neck and breathing deeply before letting out a sigh of absolute contentment, and Billy can feel the smile growing on his face.

And damn he’s such a sap. An absolute sap for you. For some reason, he looks at you like the sun shines outta your ass, like some love-struck Looney Tunes character, all heart eyes and dorky grins, and he spoils you rotten and it makes you want to be just as sappy too. To spoil him back. Cherish him. Makes you do shit like spend $50 on some ugly brass frog just because it reminds you of an in-joke you have, and it's worth every single penny to see how much he laughs when he opens it up and he freakin' loves that dumb ornament, he really does, he calls it Freddie and dresses it in a teeny tiny Santa hat at Christmas all because you gave it to him. That’s him. That’s your dork. That’s the man you love.

The thought of the ornament- currently sitting pride of place on their mantle piece with a teeny tiny cotton ball tail stuck to its ass as a nod to Easter- has Billy feeling a sudden, overwhelming rush of love for Steve. The kind of intense emotion that scared him at first, making him want to hide or run away, until he faced it head on and it turned possessive, almost feral, making him reach out with the desire to grab Steve and cover him in bite marks and hickeys, to claim him. And Billy's more in control of it now, letting it fill his heart without spilling out most of the time, but he still can't resist dipping his head down to press kisses against Steve’s temple. Three little pecks, their code from before. From right at the start when neither of them dared to say three little words out loud. They both say those words every day now. Multiple times. Morning, noon and night. But the old system still has its uses.

So just hold on, kid. That's what Billy would tell himself if he could. Just hold on. Cause you get so lucky. So damn lucky. You win the jackpot. It's worth the wait, I swear.

#harringrove #cherrywrites #april prompts #soft boys being soft #you know what i like

71 notes · View notes

tommyfroggie · 3 years

Text

Chapter One: You Know... The Spider-Man Guy!?

Summary: You try to navigate the fact that your marriage and the person you have to spend the rest of your life with is someone you've never met and there's just one motive, revenge.

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Mob!FemReader {Mafia AU}

Warnings: ANGST, Drug use, violence, guns.

Word Count: 1.2K

NO CHOICE MASTERLIST

-----

"What the hell do you mean I get married in 2 weeks!?" You screamed at the top of your voice as you rushed around the room to wrap your head around the thing he just said.

"It means that you will be getting married to a certain someone who's the son of one of our enemies in the underworld." Your dad, John replied as he kept his eyes on your fuming red face.

"Dad, I'm sorry but this isn't the 80's. I'm not letting you marry me off to someone just like that, just for the sake of the business. Besides, do you really expect me to fucking marry someone without seeing him or knowing him?" You growled back in complete anger.

"Well, this is him." He said as he handed you his phone with a photo of the man.

You snatched the phone out of his hands, eager to make complaints, but all those thoughts faded away once you saw the picture. There he was. A hot as fuck photo of him from his last photoshoot. TOM FUCKING HOLLAND.

"Dad, are you fucking kidding me right now? This is Tom. Tom Holland. You know... the Spider-Man!?"

"Yes I know."

"So, he's an actor!! Why the hell would you call him 'the son of one of our enemies'?" You mocked him.

"You see Y/n, you're a part of our rich and famous mob, but to the world, you're the famous singer and artist, Y/n L/n. So is it really that hard to believe that Tom is doing the same thing?"

"So you're telling me... That his whole freakin' acting career is just a cover up for a... mob, just like me?"

"Yes."

"How- how do you know that?"

"I have my ways."

"Ok but why would he want to marry me?"

"He gave the idea actually. It's no secret you have quite a lot of fans of your 'music' and he just so happens to be one of them."

"Cool cool, but I'm still not marrying him. I don't even know him and I have a song to record so I'm busy for the whole month anyway-" Your words were cut short as your dad interrupted.

"You don't have a choice. This is great for us, it'll be like a truce"

"What the fuck!? Are you serious right now? I said NO!! I get to make my own decisions!!"

He left the huge living room before you could finish. You felt weak to your knees and you broke down. Tears left your eyes as you screamed out. You were on the floor like that alone, for hours, other than the occasional visits of the hundreds of bodyguards to check up on you.

An hour later, you finally gathered the courage to get up and head back to your room.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your mascara was running down your face. You wiped it off whispered to yourself. "I guess I'm getting married in the next 2 weeks. At least he's hot, rich and famous." You said that out of pure hatred.

'How could he have agreed to marry someone he's never met?' That was all you could think about, all night long.

You wanted revenge. Not just from your dad, but also from your soon-to-be 'husband'.

That's when you heard gun shots echoing through your huge house, in the middle of the night.

That suddenly brought you out of your thoughts as you grabbed your loaded gun from your bedside. You carefully tip-toed down the stairs towards the living room, where the gun shots were heard from.

That's when you spotted two guys in black masks trying to steal. They had shot in the ceiling to scare the family living here so they could get what they wanted. This was becoming a little bit of a daily occurrence for you.

"Seriously?! Ugh I don't understand why people come here to die everyday" And with that, before the two masked men could do anything, you shot both of them one by one, across their heads.

A pool of blood formed in front of you. You yawned feeling sleepy after seeing the same sight for the billionth time.

"Andrew!!" You shouted out.

"Yes miss Y/n?" Your dad's assistant came up to you.

"Get this mess cleaned up please and I'm not in the mood to talk to father so inform him that another robbery was about to take place so I took care of it"

"As you wish, ma'am" And he left the room to get the guys to take care of the bodies and clean up the mess.

You went back to your room and put on your silk nightgown and took out a Xanax from drawer, shoving it down your throat to hopefully relieve your anxiety. You tried to sleep but you just rolled around in your bed. Your thoughts automatically went to him. Tom.

You went to his social media profile immediately. 'Cute guy, looks nothing like a Mob Boss', you thought. And then you saw his 3 and a half million, extra followers than yours. "Shit" you exhaled as you switched off your phone and threw it in a corner.

'He's a really dreamy guy though....' Your head filled with the thoughts.

"Fuck no!" You shook yourself out of your thoughts. "You hate your dad, hate him! And you are going to take revenge! I cannot fucking get married without... without falling in love" You mumbled, giving yourself a pep talk as your eyes slowly fluttered shut. 'Love' This word kept ringing in your brain throughout the night, reminding you of your fucked up life.

The next morning, you had a huge business meeting, not for your so called 'music career', but for a huge underworld drug deal. Yes, you had talent. You could sing, no doubt in that. But, really and personally, you did enjoy this job better. You had that dangerous blood running through your veins.

You put on your usual black mini skirt paired with high black heals and a beige coat. It took you barely 10 minutes to close the deal. This was a big deal for you though. This has been done solely by the Y/n L/n, not by your father or anyone else.

Yes, people in the underworld knew your identity, but you had professional contracts with everyone, if they even thought about breaking the rules and remotely even tried to reveal your identity to the world, they would be dead in a matter of seconds. So, basically you were feared. You had that record of gruesomely killing people that ever came in your way, just like your dad, just like the Hollands.

Unlike you, who was building up, Tom, the oldest Holland son had already taken over the Holland Mob as his scary father retired a few months ago. He had several experiences in the past where his identity was threatening to be revealed and he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. His brothers, Harry, Sam and Paddy are like him too, but you know, he's the king. He was so feared around the region, he didn't have to try one thing, for the victims to spill out all their secrets.

Yes, it was difficult for both of you to manage acting or music along with your family legacy but, you both just mastered it through the years.

You were laying in your room after the successful meeting, that's when you received a message. A dm on your Instagram, specifically, from Tom Holland himself.

-----

a/n: phewwww and that's all the first one. Lemme know your thoughts <3

-----

Taglist:

@livieweasley @racewife2004 @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @mn-jun @spidey-central @yoursopretty15

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #spiderman #mafia #mafia au #mobtomholland #mobtom #mobreader #oneshots #fluff #actor #peter parker smut #tom holland mafia series #chapter one #NC series

93 notes · View notes

pumpkin-spice-whump · 3 years

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

back at it again with the chaos posts. takes place before ashley moves in.

CWs: 17yo whumpee, slavery whump, tooth whump, blood, choking on blood, brief emeto, sadistic whumper, referenced self amputation, claustrophobia

Masterlist

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

He took the lock off the bathroom door.

He’d heard Kensington crying and tried to get in, and was pissed when he found it was locked. Kensington had unlocked it immediately, but he’d still been hit because of it. Leaving Kensington injured on the floor, Master went out and bought a new doorknob without a lock, saying that Kensington didn’t need or deserve any privacy in this house.

He held back all his tears until night now. And even then he cried with his hand over his mouth, his breaths short and shallow so Master didn’t hear him.

Things just kept getting worse. Kensington spent every second Master was home in constant fear. He never knew when he would mess up or say the wrong thing or breathe the wrong way. Honestly, it seemed like Grays-- … Master got pissed at every little thing Kensington did now. Kensington could go days without saying a single word or leaving his bedroom when he wasn’t needed, and Master would still scream at and hit him.

It left Kensington feeling exhausted. Worn out. Nerves shot. At the end of his rope, and every other word or phrase in existence for being real freakin’ tired. He lived in the same house as someone who hated him, someone who he was absolutely terrified of. Every day was spent just trying to survive without getting hurt too badly. It wasn’t even spent trying to not get hurt, now it just not too badly.

There was nowhere to be safe. He wasn’t allowed outside. His bedroom didn’t have a door, and the window was bolted shut. Master’s bedroom was strictly off limits, not that he’d really want to go in there anyway. And now the bathroom didn’t have a lock.

At least it still has a door, Kensi, he told himself, shutting it behind him. Be grateful for that much.

It was kind of hard to be.

Kensington took a breath and looked at himself in the mirror. The scar on his face was healing well, now just a raised pink line. The bags under his eyes from lack of sleep were worse. He was paler. His hair didn’t curl quite as much as it used to. He looked like the tossed out slaves he’d see on the side of road and give his extra food to because he felt bad for them. Kensington’s eyes filled with tears. He looked awful. He looked like he never wanted to see himself again.

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. Knock it off. Master’s only in the living room, he’ll hear you if you cry. Don’t be a baby. He took a steadying breath, ignored the tightness in his throat, and got on with what he came to do.

He opened his mouth and pulled back his cheek, looking inside. There, on a tooth in the back of his top row of teeth, was a painful black spot that had been bothering him for days. It hurt to eat hot food and drink cold water. He couldn’t chew on that side. He apparently ground his teeth in his sleep last night, because he woke up with his whole jaw throbbing in pain.

It was a cavity, he thought. Those have to be fixed, don’t they? Yeah, a slave a couple houses ago had one and it got infected really bad. He was taken to the dentist and came back with his face swollen and numb, blood falling from the corners of his mouth. That master had been livid about the money he’d had to spend.

Kensington’s heart fell. What would his master do? He sure wouldn’t want to help him, he knew that much. Would he take him to the dentist? Master had taken him to the clinic when his eye was hurt, so maybe…

“Kensington!”

He cringed at the sound of his master’s voice, but hurried out of the bathroom to him nonetheless. What other choice did he have?

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

Kensington winced, chewing slower. He sat on the floor of the living room, Master on the couch behind him, but sitting where Kensington could see him. He had hardly eaten any of his dinner even though he was starving. Every bite hurt.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He froze, glancing up at Master. “Hmm?”

“You’re hardly eating. You always eat. So what’s wrong with you?”

Kensington hesitated. Should he tell him what’s really wrong? He might help, but he also might just make it worse… But there was also no chance it would get better on it’s own. “Uh, it’s my tooth. It… hurts.”

Master raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of food. “Your tooth hurts?” he asked, mouth open while he chewed. Kensington swallowed back his annoyance and disgust and nodded. “Hmm. Show me.”

Kensington set his plate on the coffee table and crawled over to his master, flinching when he took him by the jaw and forced his mouth open.

“Left or right?”

“Left. On the top.”

He shined the light of his phone and looked for a few tense moments before letting go. “Looks like a nasty cavity. Don’t you brush your teeth?”

Kensington didn’t answer as Master fell into silence, thinking. Hopefully thinking about when to take him to the dentist, but in the back of his mind he really didn’t think that would happen.

“Alright. Stay here.” He got up and headed to the garage, leaving his nervous slave behind.

Nothing good ever came from the garage. Every time Master went there, he only brought back pain. Kensington should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Compared to other things he’s felt, this really wasn’t that bad. He would’ve survived just fine with the pain but now Master was going to come back with something awful and hurt him. His heart pounded in chest as he heard Master rifling through the garage.

He came back soon… with pliers in hand.

Kensington exhaled hard, like all is air was stolen at once. “Oh. Um, Master, I don’t think--”

“Then stop thinking.”

“You really don’t need to pull my tooth, sir,” Kensington said quietly. Just the thought of anything touching it made the pain worse, his head throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Master wouldn’t even pull it quickly, like you would with a loose tooth. He’d probably stretch it out, listening to Kensington’s screams and tears and not even caring at all.

Master’s eyes widened in faux shock. “What? No! No, I wouldn’t do that. You will.”

Really, all Kensington could do was stare at him as the words settled in his mind, louder and scarier than anything he’s heard in a while. You will. “What?” he asked, lips barely moving.

Master held out the pliers, handle first. “Pull out your tooth.”

His mouth opened and closed with no words coming out. Not again, he thought miserably. Don’t make my hurt myself again. “Master…”

“Either you do it or I will.” He took another bite of food. “In three days. Want it to stop hurting now? You do it tonight.”

Now that Master knew it hurt, he’d probably make it the worst three days ever. Not to mention him actually pulling it out… Kensington felt tears sting the back of his eyes but he pushed them away. It would be much worse if he cried beforehand.

With a sickening sense of deja-vu, he took the pliers and followed Master to the kitchen sink. He looked at him one last time, pleading with his eyes to make this stop, but all he got in return was a horribly familiar look of expectation.

The faster he did it the faster it would end, and maybe then he could beg Master for some painkillers… He also tended to back off a bit after a big punishment so hopefully Kensington could have a few days to himself to heal.

Okay… just get it over with.

But as he opened his mouth and lightly gripped his tooth with the pliers, his hands began to shake. His breaths came short and heavy as a sweat broke out on his forehead. His limbs froze up. He looked desperately to his master, but all he did was cross his arms over his chest and lean lazily against the counter.

“I don’t have all night, Kensington,” he said. “I’m not going to help you this time, either, so you better get going.”

The longer it took, the more impatient Master would get. The longer he would hurt. The longer it would be until he could go to his room and cry himself to sleep. If he could cut off his own finger, he could pull out his own tooth. It should be easier, right? People get teeth pulled all the time. It would be fine. He just had to do it.

But the last time he was forced to do something like this he was blinded by panic and adrenaline. He had no other choice. Tonight was just a regular night until now, and Kensington was clear-headed despite his pain, which allowed all the fear and unwillingness to get in his head and freeze his body. He could really stop and think about what he was doing and how badly it would hurt. And he didn’t want to do it.

“You’re pissing me off, Kensington,” Master said after a minute or two. “I could give you worse options, you know.” Kensington’s eyes shut. He knew. “Tell you what. If you do it within the next two minutes, I’ll even give you one of my good painkillers before you go to sleep.”

That did it. Kensington opened his eyes and leaned over the sink, taking one deep breath in before pulling hard.

He let out a groan that turned into a breathy scream as the pain intensified, spreading throughout his whole head and making white spots appear in front of his eye. Blood filled his mouth and spilled onto his chin, dripping steadily into the pristine steel sink. Nausea overcame him suddenly and he gagged on the taste of the blood, leaning forward so none of it slid down his throat.

Kensington ignored the overwhelming urge to drop the pliers and stop the pain he was inflicting upon himself, taking another quick breath through his nose and pulling again, this time with much less resolve. Tears mixed with blood as he screamed again, his other hand gripping the counter to hold himself up, legs shaking. Kensington whimpered as he gripped the pliers tighter, squeezed his eyes shut, and finally yanked the tooth free.

He collapsed to his knees, sobbing as the pain receded a small amount. Blood and drool continued to poor from his mouth, staining his shirt red. He opened his eyes as Master knelt by him, his face unreadable and blurry through the tears.

“See, Kensington?” he said. “That wasn’t too hard, now, was it?”

Kensington froze, mouth open and still drooling blood. Wasn’t too hard? Wasn’t too hard? He just lost another part of himself. He was forced to make himself suffer through pointless pain again just because Master wanted him to! Living here every day was ‘too hard’! Kensington was suddenly overcome with a rage so fierce he wanted to scream. Instead, he did something he knew he would regret from the moment it crossed his mind. He tilted his head up, glared at his master, and spit blood directly in his face.

Master reached up slowly, wiping the blood off his face and staring at Kensington with shock-filled eyes that Kensington returned. They stayed like that for a long moment as they both fully realized what he had just done.

Then Master moved all at once, taking Kensington by his blood-soaked shirt and hauling him down the hall.

“W-wait,” Kensington begged uselessly, knowing that there was nothing he could say, “wait Master I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to--”

“When will you learn that I don’t care what you want?” Master opened the door to the garage and tossed Kensington inside, his knees hitting the cement floor as he scrambled to sit up before Master could kick him.

But Master only stood there, smiling smugly and looking behind Kensington, like he was waiting for him to turn around. Hesitantly, he did, and his whole face paled.

There, in the middle of the garage, was a wooden chest, a lock hanging innocently off the latch. It looked sturdy and modern. And just big enough for an underfed teenage boy to fit inside.

Kensington swallowed, then gagged at the taste of blood. More tears gathered in his eyes at the fear gripping his heart.

“Wh… what is that?” he whispered.

“It’s just a little something I picked up for you.” Master rested a hand on Kensington’s head, gripping his hair. Not pulling. Not yet.

“For… for me?” Kensington’s jaw trembled, his head still pulsing with pain.

“Mmhmm. Let’s go.” Master gripped his hair, pulling him up and hauling him towards the chest.

Kensington wished he still had that foolish anger he possessed only a couple of minutes ago. Now he could only watch in paralyzed terror as he was dragged harshly towards one of his worst fears. He didn’t fight Grays-- Master as he opened the lid and pushed his slave onto his back inside this new torture.

Only once the lid closed and Kensington was blanketed in suffocating darkness did he unfreeze. He sobbed forcefully, his legs kicking out but immediately hitting the rough wooden lid of the chest. He couldn’t even move his arms at all, stuck with them crossed overtop of him. Tears fell and gathered in his ears, his chest heaving for breath. He sobbed again at the sound of the lock clicking shut, sealing him in hell.

“Master!” Kensington cried, the sound echoing back around him. “Master I’m sorry! I’m -- I’m so sorry just pl-please let me out! Please!” He coughed as blood ran down his throat, his dread taking a new form. He kicked out again, horrible, panicked sounds coming from deep inside himself. “Master please! Please don’t leave me here!” He screamed and coughed, the blood pooling inside his mouth. “Please I can’t -- I can’t breathe! Please I can’t breathe!”

Oh this was so so much worse than being tied up in the hall closet. At least there he could see light under the bottom of the door and he could stand and hold himself as he cried but he was just trapped with nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait until he ran out of air and passed out or worse --

“MASTER!” Kensington screamed, his throat burning as blood kept going down. “Please! I don’t --” he coughed again, “I don’t want to die here! Please please! I don’t want to die here! Just let me -- let me out! Please why are you doing this?! Just let me go! I’m sorry!”

Kensington coughed on the blood again, but this time he couldn’t get in another breath. His eyes widened as he gasped in vain, kicking out at the lid. His chest heaved uselessly, gargling the blood caught in his throat.

I’m dying, he thought. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die locked in this stupid box and no one’s even going to care. He killed me.

He started to get lightheaded, his incessant kicking slowing down as his eyes slid shut.

Grayson killed me.

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

A firm hit to his back woke Kensington up. He coughed hard, gasping for air and crying when he realized he could actually breathe it in this time. Kensington took a few deep breaths, eyes tightly shut, before leaning over and expelling all the blood he’d swallowed.

“You’ll have to clean that up, you know.”

He flinched back at the sound of Grayson’s voice, opening his eyes. He was sitting not even a foot away, the lock hanging off the chest behind him. Kensington’s chest and head ached, and he could already feel the bruises forming on his knees.

Grayson stood, making Kensington flinch again. “There’s blood on the kitchen floor,” he said, heading to the door. “I want it cleaned before you go to bed.” He opened the door and paused, turning back. “We’re not done here, Kensington. You have something else coming.” He slammed the door behind him.

Kensington waited until he heard the distant sound of his bedroom door closing before he exhaled in relief.

It wasn’t over. Grayson had said he had something else coming, and that thought alone made him want to break down into tears again. But now, behind his abject fear and conditioned respect for Grayson, there was a deep hatred growing. Kensington didn’t quite know what to do with it, but he knew he wanted it to stay, and grow, for as long as he was forced to live in that house.

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

Taglist: @batfacedliar-yetagain @haro-whumps

#my boy kensi #the horrible grayson wayne #i gotta write why hes so claustrophobic sometime #its actually not something grayson did to instill that fear!#he just exploits the heck out of it #poor kensington #oh well #whump #slavery whump #minor whumpee #sadistic whumper #claustrophobia tw #tooth whump #brief emeto tw #blood tw #choking on blood tw #referenced self amputation

28 notes · View notes

meher-sumedha · 3 years

Note

Okay so I have a few

1. Drunk az mistakenly confesses his feeling for Gwyn in front of everyone.

2. Gwyn and az making bracelets together.

3. Gwynriel’s first official date.

4. Az and Gwyn on a spy mission together.

Okay so I'll write the first one first cause I really really like it and really want to write it. Also, this is my first time writing like smut, smut so. FORGIVE ME. As you know - 2 am. my mental health is fucked. Anyways ENJOY!

Gwynriel Headcanon : Gwyn's Little Crush

(I know just trust me on this)

Gwyn and Azriel had been dating since a year now. And last month only the mating bond had snapped for Azriel. It had made Gwyn's life shit.

As much as she wanted to be with him, the mating bond had made their lives shit. Like really shitty. They couldn't leave their room without Azriel killing someone.

After one week Azriel had convinced Gwyn that he was okay and was gonna behave. He did not. They had gone to a restaurant in Velaris, as a dinner date.

He almost killed the waiter because he looked at Gwyn when he gave her her dish. On their way back home he kept telling Gwyn he was okay.

"I swear to god Gwyn, I'm fine."

"Az you almost killed the waiter"

.... "Well I controlled myself in front of the receptionist"

"YOU ALMOST TOOK OUT HIS EYES!"

"HE WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU"

"HE ASKED ME IF I WAS FINE!"

"WELL, I, I"

"WEL!????"

Azriel was silent after that, he knew Gwyn was right but wasn't able to spend any time with her. He was like a freakin dog. That couldn't behave.

When they kept walking and Azriel didn't respond, Gwyn stopped in the middle of the road and came in front of Azriel. She took his face in her hands, and pulled it so close that their foreheads were touching.

His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer. "I'm sorry" Whispered Azriel, his shadows thickening around them.

"Az, I love you with all my heart" And then let out a small chuckle, "but we can't risk you going and killing people". This made Azriel smile, everything she did made him smile.

Azriel then said, "I think we should wait before I get out of my room again" And chuckled. So did Gwyn.

"I agree" She said and smiled. But then Azriel pulled his head away and pulled Gwyn closer to him, so she was now looking up to him. He frowned and said, "But then how-how would we spend time together without anyone knowing?"

Gwyn rested her head against his chest. Trying to listen to his heartbeat to calm her own. Trying to figure out a solution. And then it hit her.

"Well, uhmm, I-I could move in with you if-if you like cause you know we've already done the deed and, and I already sleep in your room like three nights of the week and I-" Babbling. Azriel realized Gwyn was babbling.

So, he stopped her before she could panic more, "I'd love that" He said. And Gwyn stopped. Smiling against his chest.

"How does it feel" She asked. "How does what feel?", she then looked up to him and said with a cheeky voice, "How does it feel to be in the presence of your mate". Azriel pulled her even closer, and told her, "It feels like, like, I-I don't know how to explain it".

Gwyn chuckled and said, "Well you never were to one for words" And stood on her tippy toes and kissed him on the nose. A small, simple gesture that still made Azriel's heart leap. But then Azriel looked at her with such intensity that Gwyn couldn't help but stand normally, grab the collar of his shirt and smash her lips onto his.

Azriel chuckled into the kiss and winnowed them, to his apartment. His apartment, their apartment.

When they arrived, Gwyn broke the kiss and asked, "Where are we?" And started to look around the room. The simple room with a black cupboard and a black desk. With a brown bread.

And when she started to walk away, Azriel pulled her back into his embrace and just stared at her. Imprinting her beauty to his mind, not that he could ever compare it with the real deal.

When he did stuff like that, he could see that Gwyn became as red as a tomato. But usually it ended with cuddles in bed. Right now, Gwyn grabbed his collar and smashed her lips onto his, she then slipped her hands under his waist band.

Azriel then let out a thirst groan. In one smooth movement Gwyn slipped her hands out and took off his shirt, breaking their kiss for a millisecond. And then smashing her lips again. This time, she slammed Azriel into the wall with that powerful of a kiss.

Hunger, desire, all was shining through the bond for Azriel. He had sensed her scent change the moment they arrived. All was left of the scent of flowers and lillies, was arousal and arousal only. But Azriel couldn't loose his self control. Cause he knew if he did, he could hurt her.

So as much control as he could muster, he picked Gwyn up, his hands under her hips and took her to the bed and laid her down with utter gentleness. He FUCKING tried, tried to control himself but she just wasn't fucking giving up.

So Azriel thought, fuck it, she wants it rough, fine. I can give her rough. When Azriel's hand slipped under her leggings, Gwyn smirked into the kiss. She knew, she knew Azriel would loose his control and she knew what she did to him. Yet she didn't stop, still testing his limits.

Before today, Azriel had made love to her, but-but today, he was gonna fuck her. He was gonna ride her until she couldn't stop screaming his name.

So he did, all night. All night they tested each other. All night seeing who would break first. It was mostly Azriel. And that night, Azriel discovered, that if he wanted her undone, he was gonna have to do a lot more than just thrust into her with his long length. Gods, he loved it. Loved the rush, the pleasure. So he did, he took it as a challenge, and as Azriel didn't like loosing, he soon got a hold of her tell. Of what got her undone.

But, he only used it in extreme times, when she wouldn't break. For he would never want her to know his strategy.

Even though it was a game, it wasn't at the same time. As much as Azriel loved the sex, he loved the little cuddles, the silent training, the talks they had after one had a nightmare, the simple walks alongside the sidra, the flying with Gwyn screaming in his ear, the sleepovers, the getting drunk. He loved her, and every single fucking thing about her. He loved it.

And today, after a month of isolation, Azriel was finally gonna meet his brothers. He hoped that he had some control over himself, and that he doesn't fuck this up and ends up killing everyone.

They were at the house of wind, where Nesta and Cassian were hosting the dinner. They had just had dinner and a few drinks and were sitting on sofas. Gwyn was playing with Nyx on the floor as she was the only one who was not drunk.

"Gwyn" Said Cassian. "Mhmm", "Gwyn", "Mhmm", "GWYN", "WHAT". This had become their new routine, Rhysand pesturing Gwyn and Gwyn being annoyed. As much as Gwyn pretended she hated it, she actually loved it.

Gwyn then looked back to her high lord, who had Feyre resting her head on his shoulders. "I heard you have a crush" And as soon as he said that, Azriel's eyes shot up from beside Gwyn. Gwyn then put her hand on Azriel's thigh, he was sitting cross legged with Gwyn, which made him calm down.

"You told him?" Gwyn asked Nesta, angered slightly laced in her voice. Nesta shot her hands up in surrender position, "I swear to god I didn't" But then her gaze fell away from Gwyn. And when Gwyn followed that Gaze, she saw her eyes were on a smirking Cassian.

Gwyn took the pillow that was with her and threw it at Cassian's face, which made all of them chuckle. It erased the smirk he had on his face, but not for long. "Fork you" Gwyn muttered and Azriel raised his eyebrows. "A kid's here, I'm not gonna be the one to teach him bad language, you all already do enough of that" And it brought out a laugh in all of them which even made Gwyn smile a bit. . (Nesta, Cassian, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel (emorie is currently, well somewhere and elucien is on a honeymoon in the day court)).

"Anyways" Said rhysand and he continued, "we thought it might have been a good idea to invite him". Azriel was getting impatient, so he asked, "Who the hell is he?".

And then suddenly, fucking suddenly, Stefan Salvatore walked into that room.

Everyone knew him. I mean who didn't? He was a legend. The only one of his kind. Stories were written about him, the only fae, who was also a vampire.

"Hello love" He said and Gwyn's cheeks reddened. He was hot, hot hot. And suddenly Gwyn's little fangirl was awakened. She wanted to ask him so many questions, did he really drink blood? Did he drink people's blood?

"Hi," Gwyn said and he came closer to her, gods, he was so tall, probably an inch taller than Azriel.

"“You don't know what it's like being in love with you. You know, when you and I were together, every single atom in my body told me that it was the right thing, that we were a perfect fit. And that kind of love, it can change your whole life.”

Gwyn was speechlees. She clumsily stood up and she could've sworn she heard Nesta chuckle. These lines, these lines were Gwyn's favorite when she was a teen. In her room in sangravah, she had these lines written on her walls, so many of them.

For a moment, Gwyn had forgotten Azriel was there, and that was her first mistake. It didn't take Azriel even two seconds to get up and take stefan flying out of the balcony. "Shit shit shit shit shit!" Gwyn muttered to herself.

"What's wrong Gwynnie?" Cassian asked cheekily. "Yeah, is something wrong Gwynnie?" Rhysand joined. "FUCKING DO SOMETHING! HE'S GONNA KILL HIM". "Oh why o why would Azriel do that" Nesta asked.

"NES! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE", And Nesta chuckled. Azriel then flew in while slamming stefan to the ground, stefan was trying to fight but he was failing. Gwyn was smart enough not to go in between them.

After 15 mins of thrashing stefan, Azriel stopped, and said, "You fucking even look at my mate like that, I will fucking kill you, and I swear on my life, that it will not be an easy death."

He then got up and walked towards Gwyn, all of them were trying to contain their laughter but even they were speechless, of course they were, they knew about them but they didn't know that they were mates. Gwyn was well speechless.

She was just gonna start his rant about how he shouldn't have done those things but then Azriel took her hand and said, "I'm sorry" And then Gwyn didn't know what to do. She had prepared a whole speech on how he shouldn't do such shit and now, now she was speechless.

Rhysand then broke the silence, "So... Mates huh?" .

74 notes · View notes

steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

S5 Ep 27 Part 2: Yugi Gets Robbed

A shorter part than the last one because I have no idea where to split this without a card game smack dab in the middle of the episode.

Last we left off, Grandpa has finished his story about how he used to be hot in Egypt and tells Yugi that despite everything he just said, Yugi is NEVER allowed to be hot in Egypt. Which will be relatively easy for Yugi to do since he does not have Young Grandpa Swagger.

Which is when Yugi reveals that he fell asleep halfway through the story

Now that all of the pieces of the show have been talked about so we, the viewers, remember what they were, it’s time for Yugi to go the hell to bed.

(read more under the cut)

If it weren’t for the creepers that have been spying on this entire situation.

I cannot believe I have to suffer Rex and Weevil yet again, but they are consistently the first miniboss of like every season.

(also if you’ve noticed there’s a black bar on the side of everything. I figured I should recrop it, until we got to this dream sequence where, you’ll notice, they put the white gradient ON TOP of the black bar, which means this was the original dimensions. This was how it looked out of the box. HOW does this happen? You MADE it. You made it too small? What? HOW? what HAPPENED here?)

Because we’re not done with exposition, Yugi and Pharaoh decide to gush about what jobs they do for the other. Just in case no one has ever turned on Yugioh before, which, honestly? Probably likely. Kids and teens have goldfish memories and very little reading comprehension.

Like you ever realize how weird it was that we used to have classes where all we did was we read a book and then were tested on if we actually remembered it within moments of reading it? How wild is that concept? And how wild was it that we super didn’t remember a majority of anything written by Steinbeck?

Like you get to college and lit classes change from “do you remember this?” to “OK but can you write about this?” and that’s such a huge shift that we only expect from adults. The brain is freakin weird. Also High school English classes kind of suck.

Which is when Yugi brought up this plot point from Season Zero I thought would never ever come back in a billion years:

Like he didn’t say “hey remember how I think all my friends became my friend because I wished upon a haunted necklace?” they didn’t bring up the curse thing. But, he did mention how he had zero friends and didn’t talk to anyone before Pharaoh showed up.

Which like, this series started with Joey and Tristan and Tea already at Yugi’s side. They were already his friend. This is completely new information if you didn’t watch Zero.

Tag yourself, I’m Duke Devlin.

Also, this might be a problem with composing too many people in one shot but I’m personally a little offended that Mokuba isn’t here. Seto is, but ehhh not Mokuba who’s saved their ass multiple times, he’s too short to fit. Also not Rebecca? Who owns the freakin friendship card? That whole arc with Rebecca in it just 10 episodes ago does not matter?

Bakura is also not here but that just makes sense (and would also confuse new viewers a lot.) I personally thing Bakura made that a choice, he’s got a lot of personal ghost related issues and probably doesn’t want to be around people if he could murder them unintentionally (or intentionally, depending on which half of Bakura you’re talking to)

Now that we are all reacquainted with the plot and overarching cast of Yugioh (minus Mokuba), Rex Raptor picks up a rock and smashes it directly through this window.

The most asshole move.

This window is on the ROOF. This is an ATTIC window. Yugi lives in an ATTIC. Their house is SCREWED. The game store is screwed! Skylights already leak a bunch, everyone who’s had a skylight has dealt with leaks, but damn. Imagine if you just had some asshole ruin your skylight during a heavy rainstorm. Good luck trying to find a big enough kitchen bowl to catch these drips. Good thing your store isn’t full of priceless paper cards.

Grandpa’s poor Blue Eyes White Dragon is soon to be soaked as well as already being ripped and covered in tape. Just a miserable time for that card.

Also, you may think that I forgot a thing I said I would do, and no, I did not forget.

This was way easier and quicker to do than I realized, because I am like a professional pajama drawer, and I should have done it from the beginning of the episode but I had some tech problems that we’ll get to in a little bit and I was like “I just need to publish this thing.”

And then a very good ironic moment happened when Rex and Weevil opened this tiny travel tote, and much like the bag of winds in Odysseus, took about half a second to realize they were absolutely dead.

This horrible bag is full of every single millennium item except for that damn puzzle. And also the ring which decided that Rex and Weevil were nasty boys, but it wanted someone nastier.

And in case you were like “Isn’t Bakura’s font different now than it was earlier this episode?” Yes. It is. I’m not fixing it. This is his new font now. It’s been a day.

Also, fun fact, I’ve mentioned before that as a middle schooler I was basically a Bakura cosplayer and had no idea, well when I got to High school I wanted to make some ~Changes~ to my wardrobe, so I got myself a long black trench coat from Esprit. It was my first big clothing purchase of my life, a birthday present, and I wore it nearly every day with my casual striped t-shirts and khakis JUST LIKE THIS.

I hate this.

I can’t believe I was cosplaying Bakura not just in middle school but also in High School and had no freakin idea it was ever happening.

Also I still own that coat because 1.) I haven’t grown any taller and b.) I’m just waiting for matrix coats to come back. The new movie is coming out on HBO or whatever, maybe we’ll all get into long black coats again. That coat is rad. I kept the coat.

Like...this is a good coat, this is a great glam up on Bakura, I dig the coat.

So, before Rex and Weevil could enlist in the Bakura army, Bakura just kinda offs em (They’re not on the deathcount yet because I don’t know if they’re dead yet). And Bakura, who remembers dying and being dead the last time he touched a God Card, was like “wow, who the hell wants a stupid God card, I have a millennium ring” and down they went. Which is about when Yugi showed up in his pajamas and no shoes on.

which like...slightly not intimidating way for a Pharaoh to introduce himself to his nemesis, but it is 4 AM.

So, next episode we get to see a pretty wild stand off. Does Yugi even have cards right now? Does he keep them in his pajamas?

Like how nasty are Yugi’s feet right now? Kid didn’t even bring his house slippers with him. Maybe the streets of Japan are like really clean but I can’t imagine walking through any major city without shoes because of how much broken glass there’d be from trash cans that didn’t quite make it into the trash truck.

Man what if Rex and Weevil are finally dead? What a wonderful way to start off this arc, honestly. A good episode. I heard the quality is going to be hit or miss the rest of this arc, but that’s pretty normal for this show. This was a nice episode. Nice job, Yugioh.

Anyway, if you want to read these from the start, here’s the link to read these in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #YGO #Yu-Gi-Oh #Yugi Muto #Grandpa Muto #Ryou Bakura #S5 #Ep27 #Photo recap #episode recap #Rex Raptor #Weevil Underwood

30 notes · View notes

buckys-black-dress · 4 years

Text

teddy bear - dad!bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n: uhhh hey guys! here’s a little bit dad!bucky since im in a soft mood today, and ive been toying with this idea in my head for a little while. i typically am not one for super fluffy stuff but here’s something with tooth-rotting fluff. LOL. -ali

wc: 1.2k

Ever since you and Bucky welcomed your darling daughter into this world, your lives have been anything but normal.

At just six months old, Rebecca Stephanie Barnes was a force to be reckoned with.

You were incredibly grateful for the fact that any one of your friends would drop anything to come help with Becca, but more importantly, Bucky was always around. There was never a moment where you had felt insecure or unprepared with your daughter, because Bucky was at your beck and call.

He offered to make meals, he did the dishes and laundry, and cleaned the house diligently, and you didn’t even have to ask. He was perfect.

But you felt like he was holding back.

At night, he would avoid touching your stomach when you slept, which was odd because when you were pregnant, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

During the day, if you needed to grab something from the grocery store, he would run out and get it without question. When you were home alone, you had time to think.

Today, Becca had just been put down for a nap when you had mentioned to Bucky that you needed some pasta from the store for dinner tonight, but you stopped him before he could grab his keys and head out.

“Buck?” You inquired, freezing him in place.

“Yeah, honey? Need somethin’ else from the store?” He asked, puzzled while pulling on his shoe.

“Come sit with me before you leave real quick.” You said, patting the couch cushion next to you.

Bucky’s movements were slow and cautious, like he was waiting for a bomb to explode.

“You okay, doll? Somethin’ wrong?” His eyebrows were furrowed.

“I’m okay, babe. I just wanted to ask you something.” Your words were slow and calculated.

“O-okay. What’s up?” Bucky was clearly scared.

“Why don’t you let me go to the store? Or make dinner? Or clean up anything anymore?” You were genuinely puzzled at this point. “Or cuddle with me at night anymore?” The last question was the one that came out the quietest, meek like a mouse.

A pregnant pause overtook the room, blanketing it in an uncomfortable silence.

Bucky was truly speechless.

“I-- Doll, I never meant to make you feel like I love you less after Becca or anything like that. I just wanted to make things easier for you, and I didn’t want to touch your stomach because I didn’t know if it hurt or-” he cut himself off, his rambling coming to a pause.

“Oh, Bucky. If you wanted to know how I felt, you could’ve just asked! This is all about us working together. I know things are different with Becca now but you don’t have to feel like you have to do everything for me. I can still make dinner and do the laundry, Buck.” You explained, holding his cheeks in between the palms of your hands.

Bucky stared at you like you had three eyes.

“Angel, you pushed out a freakin’ super baby out of you. The least I can do is run to the store or do the dishes when you need me to. I want you to be comfortable at all times, I never want you to feel like you need anything.” Bucky’s hands flailed around, your hands still on his face, but your face was stretched with a wide grin.

And all you could do was laugh.

Bucky was really confused now.

“Bucky, baby, my love, my sunshine, my sweetest boy. Just because I had a baby doesn’t mean I’m helpless! And we had a baby, Bucky. I couldn’t have done any of it without you, and I’m forever grateful for you. I wouldn’t be able to do anything around here with Becca if it wasn’t for you helping me. We’re a team, babe.”

“I- I know, doll, I just... I’ve never done this before, and I’m so scared. I’m afraid I’m not gonna be a good enough father, I’m scared you’re gonna feel like I don’t love you anymore, if anything I love you more now. I just don’t wanna mess this up.” Bucky explained, trying to help you understand.

“Bucky, you’re already an amazing dad. Becca is like a mini you! She perks up at your voice, she always looks for you when you’re not in the same room, she can’t even sleep if you’re not there. You soothe her, she knows you. You’re her dad.” You tell him all these things you’ve noticed over the past months.

Bucky’s eyes were glossed over with unshed tears, trying to hold them in as he took in your words.

“Really?” Was all he could muster.

“Yeah, Bucky. She loves you so much, when you had your first mission after she was born she wouldn’t stop crying because she knew you weren’t there, and she wouldn’t stop crying. She’d only stop when I played that recording...” You tell him. “The one of you singing to her while she’s asleep on your chest, you know the one?” You ask, carding your fingers through his locks.

“I- yeah. I know the one. I was only gone for two days, are you serious?”

“Dead serious, you gave her some powerful lungs, babe.” You chuckled.

“Is it too soon to wake her up from her nap?” He asked, looking up at you from his spot in the crook of your neck.

“Yes,” you laughed, “speaking of, I’m going to the grocery store. You’re sitting here with the monitor, mister.” You said, pointing out the device on the kitchen counter with a smile.

As you keyed the door to your house back open with your bags from the grocery store, you see that Bucky was nowhere to be found in the living room where you left him.

You assumed that he would be in your room, maybe taking a quick shower, but what you found was all the more precious.

Bucky was laying with Becca on the floor, who was laying on her playing mat, staring up at her father.

“Y’know, Becs, I think you have the best momma, don’t you? Good thing you look just like her, wouldn’t want to look like a giant big man like me, huh?”

“Just saying, you might be giant, but you’re just a giant teddy bear,” you spoke up, startling your husband and causing your daughter to smile at you, “that’s why we both love to cuddle with you so much.” You say, coming to lay down next to Bucky where your daughter was squirming, looking for attention from you.

You tickled her stomach, making her giggle and look over to you with her big, blue shiny eyes.

"I mean, hey, I’ve never been opposed to a good cuddle with my girls.” Bucky answers with a wide grin. “C’mon, we have a huge bed and more than enough space for this little one.” Bucky says, getting up and taking your little girl with you, leading you to the only place you ever want to be, surrounded by your perfect little family.

And that night, Bucky held you tighter than ever as you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x y/n #dad!bucky #dad!bucky x reader #husband!bucky #husband!bucky x reader

460 notes · View notes

ramp-it-up · 4 years

Text

Communication

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Dom Lin, light bondage, explicit laguage, edging, oral sex (female receiving), love fluff, marriage. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list by @sebastianabucknettastan (pic credit as well) AND the following birthday request from @sillyteecup

Love You Tee! I hope it’s filthy enough and that you have a great day! ❤️

Lin was talking to a reporter when he saw you enter the venue.

He was instantly pissed the fuck off, but used his acting skills to play it off.

There were so many things you needed to answer for.

First, you wore the dress he specifically told you not to wear.

The gold one that set off your skin tone and that that fit perfectly before the baby, but after, with your slightly larger thighs, hips and breasts, fit like a glove.

A skin tight glove.

Next, you put your hair up, showing off your neck and your cleavage, which was pushed up by the special fuck me bra that you had on. The one you only wore for him at home.

Then, you wore your 6-inch gold Jimmy Choos with the stiletto heels. The ones that you only wore for him at home.

That is, after your fuck me bra had been thrown across the room.

What was worse was that he didn’t know any of this before he left the house because you were taking so long to get dressed that he had to leave without you.

When you joined him, you met his cold, hard glare before the acting took over and his face broke out in a smile.

Oh. Lin was pissed, but he couldn’t let it show. He was the man of the hour.

For the next 30 minutes, you two were gracious recipients of the most mundane conversation of everyone who wanted to talk to him.

And you were especially charming, touching every man’s arm, and managing to play with every woman’s hair and smiling at all with that alluring grin that made them all practically drool into your cleavage.

As the night wore on, his smile slipped more and more. Although you were at his side, which he made sure of, he couldn’t get close enough to say anything to you, which you made sure of.

He knew what this was about. Lin had informed you that his next gig was halfway around the world and that you would either have to accompany him, or stay in New York while he had fun creating shit while you took care of your son. A single parent yet again.

Shit was getting old.

Lin didn’t want to leave you, he wanted you to come with and he couldn’t understand your resistance, especially since your job was easily mobile and you had the means to go.

But he was especially frustrated that you wouldn’t talk about it, you were just torturing him with this display of your sexy allure that he wanted to be just for him.

Each time you gave someone else the benefit of your attention, yet pulled away from him, he got more and more determined to demonstrate the importance of effective communication to you.

When you were finally seated at the head table, Lin whispered as he drew closer to you.

To everyone who was watching, and there were a lot of people watching, it looked like normal couple interaction.

But in reality, it was a threat.

"You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.”

You finally turned the full wattage of your smile on him. His heart stopped and he wanted to crawl under the table and lick from the soles of your feet up to your pussy.

Damn, his wife was beautiful.

“Sir.”

You said it to piss him off, not project submissiveness, but you could tell by his smirk what he wanted that word to mean. Well, fuck him.

“I’m not acting like a brat, I’m acting like the wife of a Very Important Man at a Very Important Event.”

You leaned toward him and he was drawn to you, but still pissed.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll make you.”

You turned and looked him fully in the eye.

“I’m not scared of you. What are you gonna do? Write the fuck out of a story about me?”

The raised eyebrow and disrespect was the final straw. The emcee was about to introduce him.

Lin leaned even closer.

“I got something better than a spanking. When we get home, I’m cuffing you to the bed and I’m going down on you all night until my jaw is sore. And if you straighten up now, I might let you cum.”

Your mouth dropped open as the emcee finished introducing him and Lin rose and went to the podium.

You recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone noticed and then put on your neutral face.

————-

After his speech, it was like nothing happened. And you miraculously found some act right.

For the remainder of the night, Lin was charming to everyone, even you.

You even danced and he held you close, caressing your side and seamlessly catching your rhythm.

It was like you dreamed what he’d said, because he even kissed your hand before he led you to the car, and you even leaned your head on his shoulder and fell asleep on the way home.

It turned out to be a pretty nice night.

You got home and paid the babysitter and ordered her an Uber. Lin watched her get in the car while you went to check on the baby.

He was so freakin cute and you stayed to watch him sleep a bit, never getting enough of his big fat cheeks.

When you went into the bedroom, Lin was nowhere to be found, coming out of the walk-in closet as you closed the door.

“Hey, come here.”

His smile was his signature mix of angelic and devilish, and you were sure of what he wanted.

You were glad he seemed to forget the earlier difficulty and you glady went toward him.

Maybe you would give him some tonight and you could talk about the issue in the morning.

Lin put his hands on your shoulders.

“You look. Incredible tonight.” His hands moved down your arms and moved to clasp your fingers.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Yes." You started unbuckling his belt.

Lin pulled away from you. His eyes glinted, hard and cold.

"You want it?" He moved to sit on the bed. He patted the duvet beside him. “Come.”

You came and sat beside him, anticipation making you shiver. Lin leaned over to you, his lips oh so close, and watched as you closed your eyes.

He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and pulled you onto the bed with him.

His mouth laid ravage to yours and just as your senses went wild, he moved to pull your dress up. He stopped and smiled.

You were only wearing the fuck me bra and no panties.

“You do wanna get fucked I see. How convenient.”

You just smiled back at him and clenched your thighs together.

Him still being in his tux making you very wet.

Lin’s dark beauty was making you weak.

Lin continued to pull your dress over your arms, and you raised them to make it easier. But somehow, the dress stopped over your eyes.

You smiled before you panicked, thinking Lin was playing some cute little game.

You panicked when you realized the game wasn’t cute.

You realized the game wasn’t cute when you felt the cuffs go around your wrists and onto the bars of the bed.

“Lin?”

You could only see his outline moving around as you struggled and tested the cuffs.

“This isn’t funny Lin!” You were panicking.

“No. It’s not. But I told you what was going to happen.”

“What?”

Lin took your legs and spread them apart, you pulled them back together. He slapped your thigh and pulled them apart again.

“Leave them open or I’ll get the spreader bar.”

Lin watched your lip tremble as kept your legs open, while also watching your slick drip down your folds.

He smiled and leaned over, mouth near your ear.

“I’m going to keep my promise.” You visibly trembled.

“Do you want to watch, or not? Your choice.”

Lin’s hands were on your thighs now, slowly, too slowly moving up toward your apex. He stopped, thumbs about two inches away from your slit, and asked again.

“Well?”

You whimpered, wanting some kind of contact. Something to give you relief.

“I wanna see you Baby. I wanna see you make me cum.”

You were trying it, and Lin shifted, lifting your dress and propping your head up with it as he shook his head at you.

“IF I make you cum.”

Lin returned to the exact position he was in, with this thumbs exactly two inches away from where you needed them to be.

“I need your words. What’s your greenlight word?”

Lin moved his hands a quarter of an inch closer and you tried not to move.

“Banquo.”

“Good girl. What about when you need to stop?”

You were getting anxious. Safe word play was intense.

“Macduff.”

“Good girl. Where are we at now?”

Lin was sliding his thumbs closer to your dripping heat. He was right there and you practically screeched, “Banquo, Banquo.”

“Gooooood girl.”

Lin finished sliding both thumbs into you, circling and sliding them up and down your slit, bumping and teasing your clit, making you jump and whimper every time.

He separated his hands and put one thumb on your puckered hole and one thumb in your pussy, rotating them, fucking one hole and teasing the other.

“After I eat you out, I should take your ass. Make you squirt all over the bed. But that would involve you cuming. And I don’t know….”

“Fuckkkkk, Lin! I want you to feel how wet I am for you. C’mon. Please?”

“Keep begging.”

Your pussy fluttered around his hands and he slowly withdrew them, trailing your wetness down your thighs.

He was edging you like you had all night.

And he did.

He sat back and watched you squirm, a soft smile on his lips. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He stared between your legs as he rolled up his sleeves.

His fucking forearms were driving you crazy. Shit, you should not have been such a bitch.

“Damn, I would take a picture, but I have a specific purpose tonight. And I already have several in my collection.”

Lin was obsessed with your pussy. Absolutely obsessed. It was his precious.

He leaned in, his dark head obstructing your view as he oh so slowly licked a long stripe from your ass to your clit. You craned your neck to see him go to work.

“Unnnnnnnhhhhh.”

You tried to capture his tongue with some kind of impossible pussy trick, but Lin held you fast to the bed.

He chuckled into your folds, and shook his head.

“You’re hilarious.”

Then, he opened his mouth wide and stuck his talented tongue as far in your pussy that it could go, his top lip capturing your clit.

He reached up and grabbed your heaving breasts, squeezing them and rolling your perky erect nipples.

Lin was chowing down. He fucked you with his tongue until you were about to come again, but stopped. You groaned, and Lin was glad he’d soundproofed your bedroom.

“Lin. I’m sorry. Let me cum, please. Please? This pussy is yours. See how you got me? Please. I don't care what you do to me. I want you to make me feel good. Only you can Lin."

He loved your begging and pleading. He put his face in your place again, this time sucking and manipulating your clit until your legs started shaking violently.

Your curses and moans only make him lick you faster.

Lin pushed your legs back apart and inserted a finger inside you, expertly curling it, inexplicably telling you to come hither from inside your vaigna.

“NOW you want to communicate? Should have thought of that earlier.”

"Lin, its...." you breathed.

"Tell me."

Lin ordered, as he stopped what he was doing and wiped his face.

You were panting now,devastated by the loss of your orgasm, and coherent thought completely gone from your mind.

Lin reached out and rubbed your clit again. He leaned over and drew it between his lips, sucking it and making you see stars this time.

All of a sudden, he stopped sucking and gently, very gently, slapped it. Then, he inserted two fingers from behind while he slapped your clit. It was very intense.

You yelped loudly and had to open your mouth in order to breathe. Your heart was beating so fast.

"Fuck! This pussy is so pretty.”

He started alternately lightly slapping and licking your clit this time. And he stopped every so often to let you come back from the brink.

Each time he would stop, you would moan louder and louder. The first time he stopped his shirt came off, the third, his pants.

"Lin! I'm going crazy!"

"But you taste and feel and look so fucking good. I don't know if I ever want to leave where I am right now."

Lin had stopped and started stroking himself.

“Except…”

You watched him stroke and had to close your eyes.

Lin shifted and started stroking his tip at your entrance. You were panting so hard you could hardly breathe.

You wiggled your hips and Lin stopped all movement, causing you to whine and pull on the cuffs, causing your breasts to jiggle.

He leaned over, pulled your breasts from the cups of the lace cups, and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple then biting down on it.

You were so overstimulated that this new sensation almost sent you over the edge. Yet again.

You were losing hope of getting satisfaction and started keening.

“Lin! Pleaseeee!”

This time the desperation in your voice triggered mercy.

And the way you were coming apart for him triggered his lust.

He continued to suck both nipples brutally until you were arching off the bed, and when he slapped your clit again, plunging two fingers inside you that curled to your spot, you came, hard, squirting all over him and the bed.

“Yes, give me all you got. Such a good girl.”

You trembled as he slid inside, and your body came alive again as he slipped in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge and vein on his huge, hard cock as he lit you up from the inside out.

You gripped him so good, despite the wetness, that he had to concentrate.

Lin moaned and kissed your pulse point as he felt your walls clench around him.

“So fucking good…so tight and wet… fuck.”

You struggled to catch your breath and Lin leaned up to lift up your ass, pulling your pelvis up to meet him on his knees.

“You feel so good. Make me want to come so bad baby. Take this dick.”

He stroked and stroked until he felt you quivering again.

“Do you like how that feels? Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

“FUCK! Yes Lin. Oh fuck yes. I love it. I want it all.”

“Pussy. Feels… so fucking… goooood.”

His thumb found your clit again. The pleasure built up in your body, your eyes rolled back into your head, and it was game over.

Lin came as you screamed and milked his cock dry.

It was perfect.

Next thing you knew, Lin was unlocking the cuffs, sitting you up and massaging your shoulders. He led you into the bathroom where the whirlpool tub was halfway full.

You hadn’t realized that you were out for a few minutes.

Lin put your hair up while the tub kept filling.

You climbed into the tub, and Lin climbed in behind you, gathering you in his arms.

You relaxed as he took care of you, his hands soothing your exhausted body.

You floated off to sleep in the warm water surrounded by Lin, the brat in you tamed.

For the moment.

——

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @ohsoverykeri @curtainremote @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin

#lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda smut #lin x reader #lin manuel miranda imagine #lin smut #lin manuel #Lin Sin #ask dj #100 smut prompts #Happy Birthday Tee! 🎉

270 notes · View notes