#its a very real possibility my dad could show up to the wake . because he was friends with my uncle before he even met my mom

[ectonurites]

tomorrow is gonna suck so bad

[shostakobitchh]

Chapter 3: behind the wool

Ariel falls asleep quickly that night — too quickly. 

Shouldn’t have. It’s a mistake. 

She’d wanted to lay there and digest what her father had said, but the hour had been late and her father had sat with her a while after, and she hadn’t been able to resist the pull of sleep this time. Ariel is ninety-three percent sure he used some sort of wordless spell to put her out — an easy way to get him out of their conversation. He’d cheated. 

Her dreams are disjointed. Ariel hears things she doesn’t remember, doesn’t know if they’re real or an echo of a memory. Bright colors bouncing off walls in uncomfortable darkness — a ragged breath in her ear as shouts ring out from below. The floor shakes beneath her and when it stills, she can hear a high, cruel voice cut through the dark like a comet.

"Severus," the voice is cold, a shard of ice in her dream, "you cannot possibly be this foolish.” 

“My Lord — please.” Her father's bellows are raw with desperation and rage, a caged beast clawing for escape. “I will do anything —”

"Your life, Severus? A fair trade for the Mudblood and the child?" The high, cruel voice laughs. It reverberates off the unseen walls of her dream, a sound that makes it hard for Ariel to breathe. “No, you see, this is a particular torment I have been savoring for you. You will listen — listen as I rip them from your world, as was always intended.” 

“No — my Lord — take me instead, I beg you —” 

The high, cruel voice cackles again, and it’s like a dagger sliding through her chest. “You overestimate your worth. No — you have chosen betrayal. I think it is fair that you witness the consequences. Incarcerous!” 

She wakes to the sound of her name. 

“Ariel.” 

Ariel — Ariel look at me, her Mum had whispered in her ear, then, her arms tight like a vise.  

“Ariel, wake up.” 

She sits up quick — so quick she makes herself dizzy. Straining, Ariel keeps still — listens — her heart pounding in her ears. 

It comes. “Ariel.” 

The closet is open, just a crack, just as she’d left it before. From the crack, there is a dim, green light, so faint that Ariel can’t tell if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her or if it’s really there. 

“Mum?” Ariel throws off her blankets and scampers to the edge of her bed. “Is that you?” 

“Yes, my girl,” and Mum says it the way Dad does, sometimes, with a fierce tenderness, like he’s almost proud — my girl. “It’s me.”

She throws on her bedside lamp, the room engulfed in a soft, yellow glow. 

Ariel’s heart is a fireworks show. “Where have you been?” she demands. “Where did you go? I’ve been waiting for you! Dad wouldn’t believe me, and I waited and you left.” 

"I’m sorry, darling," Mum sighs, the green light pulsating softly as Ariel draws closer. "But I’m here now.” 

"But why?" she presses, her small hands clenched into fists at her side. “Don’t you miss us?”

I miss you, I’m sorry you died because of me.  

"Of course she does," The green light blinks, like a heartbeat catching its breath. “Why wouldn’t she?” 

"Then why didn't you come back?" Ariel's voice trembles with desperate anger and grief.

The voice sighs gently, a sound like wind whispering through the leaves. "Because she wasn’t ready yet.” 

Ariel is about to ask what that means when she pauses — actually listens to what her mother is saying, because — she — she wasn’t ready yet — not — 

She wasn’t ready yet —

Her mother is dead. Her mother is dead and no spell can wake the dead, and even if it could, Ariel knows her mother would never leave her again. This one did. This one left and doesn’t seem to care — 

Because it’s not Mum. 

Ariel swallows, hard. She counts backwards from ten, and then counts backwards from five, because she is very much trying not to come completely apart, and the darkness is thickening like soup, its tendrils reaching towards the bed from the closet. Ariel can’t even see the door to her bedroom anymore. 

“Why are you talking like that?” Ariel asks quietly, the unease seeping in deep, mingling with the growing pang of doubt in her gut.

A soft chuckle echoes from the closet, a sound that lifts every hair on Ariel’s arms. “Like what, darling?"

“That… that’s not how my mum talks,” Ariel's lip wobbles as she fights to keep the tears at bay. “You — you’re talking like you’re someone else.”

The green light flickers erratically. "Well, perhaps it has been so long that… you've forgotten."

That — that makes Ariel angry. 

“No.” Ariel snarls. "No, I remember everything about my Mum.”

“Do you?” Not-Mum asks, and it sounds like it’s laughing at her, now. “What do you remember, Ariel? Do you remember the look on her face when she realized she was going to die?” 

It’s a wonder Ariel’s heart doesn’t give out right then and there. It feels like it’s breaking — 

The green light in the closet goes out. There’s a long, rattling breath that fills the room up up up —  

"She wishes things could be different." Not-Mum’s voice curdles at the end, like bad milk. 

A jolt of something so cold, it borders on painful, spasms down Ariel’s spine.

[lorenzobane]

Alright- finally getting around to the last episode of Picard, and I figure why not liveblog it:

It is still SOOO unclear to me why the fuck the Changelings are even bothering to help the Borg. I guess their conceptual mission (conquer everyone) is pretty similar, but.... that feels like. Not enough.

It is very nostalgic to see everyone on the Enterprise-D, though. I can't deny that. Picard's got me there.

WHY is Jack the command signal? It remains stupid. I genuinely thought the Pah Wraith theory was more interesting than this aiuwhefs;djlk';

I do love the Borg cube's exterior design, though- its so iconic, and seeing it rendered with modern graphics

Awww poor little cook- but also he had to run the deli because his brother "had a hernia"..... sir. You're in the future. Why would that stop anyone from doing anything for longer than like. a day. I think your brother was lying to you.

Okay, I'm gonna be so real- am I the only one who kinda doesn't give a shit about Jack? I get he's there to add some stakes, but I truly don't care at all. Explode him idgaf.

If the idea is to wake Jack up from his evil slumber then why would you not send Beverley....? Who, ya know, raised him?

"And I will make it a threesome" Okay i love you Worf

Okay- like I said, I am not immune to nostalgia, "it's been an honor serving with you all" OKAY, fine Daddy Picard you got me.

Also a lot of long lingering looks between Deanna and Will... Makes me think one of them might not make it out alive

You know it really is so telling how much of the original Borg design, from the ship to the interiors, they kept. Tells you how impressive it was the first time around. It is just so creepy and excellent.

Cool. Picard has magical Borg senses.

Fine fine, the Riker/Picard/Worf scene was sweet. Can you tell that I'm a willing sap for alllll the TNG nostalgia?

LMAO I'm SORRY i actually love the camp excellence of the Borg Queen emerging from the shadows to cackle evilly

Okay HELL yeah for a Seven of Nine "Big Damn Captain" speech

This is just so funny. The Borg queen is so so fucking funny. Why is she so melodramatic. Real Miette energy.

Oh this changeling connection is dumb as hell

Worf's Bat'leth with a built in phaser is COOL okay. Sometimes I am a teenage boy.

I am not immune to TNG theme music

I am also not immune to people who have trusted each other for a lifetime coming together again. Geordi trusting Data's gut.

Ahhhh the classic "all hope is lost" moment, how I love thee

I'm sorry to say it, I really am because its the emotional heart of the story, but I just don't care about Jack

LMAO conflict solved with a hug from dad- Christ the daddy issues on star trek continue to astonish and amaze

Longest "one minute to get out" ever

I'm sorry I'm sorry but once again I'm weak for the old "the strength of their connection saves the day" and I'm a sentimentalist at heart

Kinda obsessed with the idea of Riker just being the type of guy who needs a universe-ending catastrophe every once in a while or they get bored

God Michael Dorn is sooooo good at playing Worf its not even funny. He's just. Worf. I could watch him play this character perfectly for the end of time.

Love it when Starfleet just Starfleets. "Ehh you're reckless and a little insane, but in that good way that sometimes saves the galaxy. here- have a ship and hang out on the frontiers, and don't bother us."

Worf, House of Martok...... My beloved

Poor Deanna, you do deserve a beach vacation

Starfleet history must be BUCK WILD. You tell the story of that time a crew of old people stole a ship from a museum and saved the world. Like. Okay.

NEPOTISM BABY JACK CRUSHER

uaoeisdjokf THIS fucking guy. Okay, now that I know he's lame I like him more

"What could possibly go wrong?" Wow was that a heavy-handed setup. I think I heard something about a TV show and now I feel extra convinced they are either planning one or at one point were.

Everyone being SO NORMAL about Captain starting words is so fucking. okay starfleet really MUST be the nerds of the galaxy.

Okay. I'm gonna be honest I don't think I needed quite so much nostalgia bait at the end. It was nice for like. A second. Especially when it was intercut with the younger characters.

Ending on them playing poker together, la ti da- everyone got a happy ending and in Starfleet heroes are rewarded

Anyway- it was fine. I found the episode kind of underwhelming honestly, but it wasn't horrific. Just kinda. Star trek typical levels of nonsense.

[moralesispunk]

Old Guys Rule

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Summary: With a birthday coming up, Frankie's insecurities about the age gap in your relationship start to get the better of him

Warnings: legal age gap relationship, insecurities about said age gap, mentions of children but no mentions of how they came to be in the relationship

I found this hat in a shop in Cornwall and I had to write this!

"Are you wanting to do anything on your birthday? I was thinking about booking a table down at that Italians you like and asking your Mom to watch the girls but if you have plans with the guys I can find a different day?" you looked over your shoulder at Frankie from where you had been scrolling through the booking page of the restaurant.

"Hmm? No, dinner sounds fine," Frankie answered, his head not lifting up from his phone as his face stayed firmly unbothered.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to..." you trailed off as you turned back to the laptop that was resting on the kitchen counter, not convinced by Frankie's response.

"What?" you could tell that his head had whipped up to look at yours now you had turned around, "No, dinner sounds good, yes. Thank you."

You didn't answer, instead scrolling up and down on the page for a minute as you tried not to take his response too personally. It had been a while since you and Frankie were able to go out for dinner just the two of you, finding it more difficult to get some alone time since the new baby came along and you now had the two girls, so you thought he would like the idea of a romantic dinner alone.

You could hear Frankie's footsteps pad across the kitchen floor until he was leaning against the counter next to you. Avoiding his gaze as he crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking the way his ankles were now crossed over one another, you filled in the booking information before closing the laptop. Without looking at him you turned in the chair to stand but Frankie's hand fell on your wrist stopping you.

"Hey," his voice was soft, "I do want to go out for dinner with you and thank you for booking the place that I like, I just-." Frankie sighed and let you wrist go before dragging his hand down his face as he let his eyes drop to the floor, "I'm just not looking forward to this birthday. I'm in my late forties now!"

"I think you're still mid-forties."

"So much better," he rolled his eyes.

"So you're not looking forward to your birthday because... you're going to be a year older? Forty-six years and thats you just realising how birthdays work?"

"It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing, I'm wondering why that's upsetting you. Whether or not you're looking forward to it you can't stop it."

"You'll make fun of me if I tell you why," his foot was swinging out in front of him before crossing it back over the other again.

"Maybe, but we've been married for six years so I think I'm allowed to make fun of you."

A smile was tugging at the corner of Frankie's lips when he finally looked up to you, his head leaning slightly to the side as he met your eyes. Frankie loved everything about you but he especially loved how relaxed you made him feel. Even though he wasn't in a good mood when you started talking birthday plans, instead of giving in to it you pulled him back from it. You had done it ever since you met him. Frankie could tell you, and has told you, his deepest, darkest secrets and fears and you don't shy away. You don't pull him further into the darkness; you just listen and make him feel comfortable until you help him out the other side.

"I know there isn't a bigger gap between us now that there had been when we first started dating because thats not possible but it just feels bigger now? Like, you're still able to keep up with Sofia when she runs rings around us even after you've been up all night with the baby. You don't have to hold the menu back to read it more clearly when we got out for dinner. You don't have to think about having a sore back for a week if we fall asleep on the couch when watching a movie. You don't even fall asleep when watching movies at eight at night but somehow I do!"

You let his breathing settle a little before you pulled him to stand between your legs, resting your hands on his chest.

"Is it about all these small things or is there something bigger to it?"

You tilted your head to catch his gaze as Frankie's eyes fell to the floor again, stopping him with two fingers under his chin and lifting his eyes to meet yours.

"I just worry that you don't want to be with an old guy like me," he sighed, his hands resting on your thighs.

"I'll have you know that I love that your an old guy. I fall more in love with you every day as you get older. I love that you run around enough with Sofia until you're tired because you don't want to stop. I think you're cute when you have to squint at the menu because you're too stubborn to get glasses, even though I think you would look very handsome in them. And I like giving you back massages when it gets sore because its just an excuse to get my hands on your very sexy, super hot, handsome DILF self."

Frankie barked a laugh, his forehead falling against yours as his hands reached up to cup your face.

"I love you so much, you know that."

"I do, and I love you."

His lips found yours, pressing a soft kiss to them. Just as his mouth opened to push his tongue into yours the sound of tiny footsteps running into the kitchen pulled you both away.

"Mama, Papa!" the voice cheered as Frankie leaned down to swing Sofia up, groaning as he did so.

None of what you had said to Frankie was a lie. You truly did love him more and more every day.

As time went on it had been kind to Frankie. He had fought off his demons for the most part, nightmares only sneaking in every so often, and it showed. He carried a lightness with him, not being weighed down by his past anymore. His eyes crinkle at the side when he smiles, which he does more now than ever. His face has filled out a little more in a healthy way. His jaw is also covered in a patchy beard that now has spots of grey that you love the most even if Frankie doesn't believe you.

❀❀❀

You let Frankie lie in on the morning of his birthday, getting the girls up and ready so you could have a lazy breakfast together before you dropped them at their Gran's while you and Frankie go out for dinner. After sorting out a breakfast, having to start again after Sofia wanted to help and ended up spilling the batter over the countertop instead of in the pan, you carried it upstairs with the girls in tow.

Frankie was already waking up as you opened the door, his face lighting up with a wide grin when he spotted you balancing the baby in one arm and carefully carrying the tray in the other as Sofia carried bags of birthday presents.

"Happy birthday," you and Sofia chimed with a small gurgle coming from your side.

"My beautiful girls, thank you!"

Frankie lifted Sofia onto the bed with the presents, settling her into his side, before taking the tray of pancakes from your hands. Once it was safe on his lap he lifted his head, catching your lips in a kiss, before you sat across from him.

You managed to get through breakfast before Sofia had spoke about opening the presents again and once the tray was placed on the bedside table you got to opening the gifts. With baby girl back asleep and placed on Frankie's chest, Sofia pulled the paper off them more so than Frankie, handing him the opened presents as he thanked you all. Once all the presents that were on the bed were opened you leaned across and pulled another from your bedside.

"One more," you smiled knowingly and Frankie narrowed his eyes at you as you handed him the small bag.

He snaked his arm from around Sofia, holding baby girl close to his chest as he put his hand inside the bag and pulled out a hat.

"Oh a new hat, thanks babe I love-" he stopped when he read the front, looking at you with a grin on his face.

"What does it say?!" Sofia asked, pushing her head in front of her Dad's to see the cap he was holding.

"It says Old Guys Rule!" you exclaimed.

"Because Dad is old," Sofia flung her head back in a fake laugh that bellowed around the room.

"Is that right?" Frankie tickled her sides until she was giggling for real and her head was lying next to her sleeping sister's on Frankie's chest.

"Dad is old, but he's still cool isn't he?" you reached across and pulled Sofia onto your lap as she nodded.

"How does it look?" Frankie pulled it onto his head, a little wonky as he was only working with one hand with the other resting on the tiny body on his chest.

You and Sofia both put your thumbs up and you laughed.

"Four out of four thumbs up!"

"Thanks babe," he chuckled, lifting his hand to settle the cap a little tighter on his head.

"You're welcome, you look even more handsome today. Forty-six suits you," you winked and he smiled.

Yes, Frankie was getting older but he was becoming happier and healthier and you were falling more in love with him every single day.

//

Permanent tag// @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday

[the-cult-of-russo]

gotta know how u think billy would be as a dad with his kids :D

I had so many requests for Dad!Billy headcanons 😭

I hope you're ready for this chaotic ramble.

Please remember this is my Billy I'm writing

-

You know those parents who take like a million pictures of their kid and show them to everyone? The kind that talks about their kid nonstop to anyone who'll listen? Their family, friends, the poor random old lady at the store that just wants to buy some damn milk.

That's Billy.

He's such an unbelievably proud parent, his pride for his kids knows no bounds. It doesn't even need to be some kind of milestone worth celebrating, everything his kid does makes him proud. You better believe when his baby has an explosive crap and ruins their clothes, he's boasting about it the next day to Frank and the guys at Anvil.

-

He's incredibly protective. Murder is a possibility if his kids in danger. He wants nothing more than to keep his kids safe. If they're being bullied, it takes all of his willpower to stop himself from kicking the kids ass for doing that to his kid. He's not above picking a fight with the bullies dad though if they don't get their little shit head in check and also making it known to the principle that this shit won't fly with him.

~

"Mr Russo, I don't think you understand how serious this is. Your son broke a kids nose," the principle mutters with a glare.

Billy tilts his head, regarding the teacher with those unsettling eyes that has the old man squirming in his seat.

"You’re damn right he did," Billy replies seriously, a proud tone to his voice. His dark eyes cut to his left where his son is, practically his double. As Billy smirks, unable to help himself, his son wears the same one although he's lowering his head to hide his amusement.

"We don't tolerate that behaviour here, Mr Russo," the principle huffs. Billy's eyes harden then as his eyes narrow, sitting forward in his chair just the right amount to be imposing. The second the man leans back he knows it worked.

"You know what I don't tolerate? My kid bein' bullied. You assholes won't do shit to stop it, so I say let the little fucker get a taste of his own medicine. Serves him right for messin' with a Russo," he smirks wickedly.

~

He teaches them self defence, wanting them to be able to look after themselves if it ever came down to it. Naturally, for their 16th birthday, they're gifted with a big ass knife.

-

Billy as a dad is so stupidly soft.

We all remember the scene from the show, right? Where he's in the hospital with his mom and he says;

"Maybe you did me a solid, you know? I mean, the way I see it, you want weak kids, give 'em everything. But if you... if you want 'em strong... treat 'em hard."

When he has a kid of his own he realises just what utter garbage this is. The idea of all the shit he's been through making him into the tough son of a bitch he is today is born from trauma that he still hasn't dealt with. The way his brain tries to rationalise what he went though. To make it make sense instead of it being so goddamn senseless.

But if he's honest, more than he'd like to admit, he finds himself wondering just what his life would have been like if he grew up in a loving home. What it would be like to feel wanted and cared for. To rise to the top being helped and cheered on by others instead of clawing his way there with bloodied and dirty fingers, the weight of the world bearing down on him as he's beat down at every turn.

He never wants his kids to feel that way. Not even a fraction of how unloved and unwanted he felt. He does everything in his power to make sure they know just how much he cares about them. There's literally nothing he wouldn't do for his kids. They could turn up at home one day and confess to a murder and Billy wouldn't hesitate to ask where the body is so he can handle it for them.

-

Billy is ridiculously sentimental when it comes to his kids. Drawings go up on the fridge and when a new one takes its place, the old one goes into a box of many others that he can't seem to ever throw away. He has multiple pictures of his kids at his office, even some framed cute drawings they did for him. He's kept all the mementos from the pregnancy, birth and onwards. They're his little treasures.

-

Billy is super supportive of everything his kids do. He makes sure they get a good education but he never pushes them to do something they don't want to do. Despite the large college fund he's got for them, if they choose not to go to college, he doesn't pressure them. Instead, whatever hopes and dreams they have, he does everything in his power to support and help them. Whether that's moral and emotional support, money or even breaking a few jaws of people standing in their way.

-

Let's look a little bit at how he is throughout some of the ages of his kid.

Billy with a baby is a sight to behold. No one has ever seen Lieutenant William Russo so goddamn soft. Once he's got hold of his baby, you've got no chance of getting them back off him. You'd have to fight him. He adores holding his little one close, soaking them in. He's constantly holding them no matter what he's doing and baby carriers and wraps are a godsend to him. You'd heard about them from a friend and told Billy and you better believe by the time the baby's born that he's an expert on all things baby wearing. He's a perfectionist and carrying a baby wrong can be dangerous. He makes sure he knows how to do it right.

Just as he has little affectionate touches for you, he has the same for his baby. His large hand stroking their tiny head and little hair. His finger stroking their chubby little cheek. He's a tactile person and touch is grounding for him. It soothes him to do so with his baby and reassures him they're really there and that they're okay.

He's super attentive. Of course he works a lot but as soon as he becomes a dad, he doesn't stay late anymore and makes sure to have days off. The second he comes home, he's making a beeline for his baby, scooping them up with a grin. He loves to read to them, something that continues as they grow up. His weekends used to be restful or if he was feeling like a masochist, he'd work from home. But now weekends are his time to shine. By the time you wake up on a Saturday morning, he's already up with the baby, making you breakfast as he's got the baby attached to him via baby carrier.

As his baby grows into a toddler, each milestone makes him tearful and full of pride. He kisses any booboos that happen and he's constantly playing with his child. He has a pretty silly side to him that most don't get to see. Making his kid laugh and smile brings him the greatest joy.

He loves taking his toddler to the office with him. Everyone dotes on his kid and treats them like royalty.

When they turn into a small child, he watches with a proud smile and amusement as his kid wants to fight with his men, watching them 'beat' the shit out of them. The guys at Anvil are more than happy to very dramatically go down, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree when the tiny Russo grins smugly at their 'win'.

Their first day at school and Billy's a mess. It's such a turning point and he doesn't know how to deal with how fast their growing up. But every achievement at school, even minor ones, and he's showering them with praise.

He encourages them to work hard and as soft as he might be, he is still the boss. He makes sure they do their homework and don't fall behind on their studies.

One thing Billy loves is teaching his kids stuff. Whether that's mundane stuff to help with school or teaching them shit he knows like survivalist things, because you can never be too prepared, right? He loves helping them with school projects and answering any questions they might have about one of the many things he's knowledgeable about.

When his kids moves onto those hard teenage years, the ones where everything feels so dramatic and world ending, he's a little tougher when it calls for it. Billy is no novice to rebellion, he has a rebellious streak of his own and marches to the beat of his own drum half the time. He respects that. What he doesn't respect or tolerate is behaviour that's going to fuck his kid over in the long run or self sabotage. He will be firm and a hard ass if he needs to be to keep his kids on a path where they don't get hurt or ruin their life.

Billy has a zero tolerance policy on drugs. After the shit with his mother, he won't budge on this. If he finds out his kid is dabbling in drugs, they're grounded until they're old enough to move out.

-

No matter what age his kids are, Billy loves them immensely. He wants to be the father he wished he'd had growing up and he pours all of his anguish and pain from his upbringing into it. Channeling it into the purest form of love for his kids. To break the curse that had hold of him. He won't perpetuate the cycle.

Being a father brings him a sense of completeness and peace he didn't think was possible for him to achieve. It fills the void that's been eating away at his soul from his lack of love as a child and he loves every second of being a parent. Even the hard moments.

-

Bonus:

The Russo's and the Castle's go on monthly camping trips together. Billy loves the outdoors, the mild survivalist feelings he gets from it without the real danger. He loves taking his kids there, teaching them everything. In his role as dad and uncle, he sits around the camp fire at night, the light of the flames dancing along his face as he very theatrically tells the kids a spooky story.

You and his kids are his immediate family but the Castle's are his family too. So he really loves it when you all get to spend time together like that.

[pascalpanic]

hey babe you’re the best ily very much, not to be wild but ah ha ha... may i make i request please? 🥺🥺 i’m feeling extra self indulgent so maybe just a bit of fluff? (with whatever pedro boy you’re feelin) where like, fem! rc is rlly insecure about her laugh (like i snort and laugh so loud it’s not even funny i get so nervous laughing around people skdjdjjd) so because of that he’s never really seen her let go so he’s like “no i really wanna make you laugh” and yes. stay hydrated and you’re wonderful :D

Mesh’la Kaab (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: You confide to your Mandalorian that you hate your laugh. That sets Din on a mission to hear your real, true laugh.

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of food, but that’s all. let me know if I missed any or you’d like me to tag anything in here. Reader is called “mama” in reference to Grogu, din is called “daddy” but in reference to being Grogu’s dad.

A/N: you guys, this is the cutest fluff ever. I love Din with my entire soul. Sunny and I worked together a little to add a few things unique to her but it should be relevant to anyone! I hope u guys like it :))

mesh’la kaab- beautiful sound

A giggle rings out throughout the Razor Crest, pinging off the walls and making its way into the cockpit. 

There was a lot of other noise going on down there, Mando could tell, but it’s your laugh that makes his face warm under his helmet. He listens more carefully, trying to tell exactly what’s going on.

What was going on, exactly, was chaos. Mando’s little green son had gotten hold of your ukulele and was deciding to mimic his mama, you. You often sang and played the ukulele around the ship, bringing music and light into the cold, metallic space. It was part of what Mando loved most about you, what brought him comfort when you thought he couldn’t hear you. 

Mando had brought you on board a few months ago, and your soft and warming nature caused him to let his guard down almost immediately. He’d never been a touchy man, never one to cuddle or give keldabe kisses, but you stole his heart the moment he saw your smile.

Over time, your relationship with Mando had warmed. He’d press his hand to the small of your back as he walked past, let his ungloved fingertips brush over your hands. You were soft and kind and all he wanted.

He gave in a few weeks into your stay. He told you he cared for you, that he liked you, and a relationship had blossomed. He’d wrap his arms around you when he returned from a job, pressing his forehead to yours. He’d turn off all of the lights in the ship and press soft kisses to your lips and forehead and the tip of your nose. He’d sleep in your bunk with you and the child, pulling you to his chest and murmuring how much you meant to him. Helmetless, shirtless. Human again.

You’d learned his name late one night, his lips next to your ear- Din. It was one simple syllable, soft yet strong, a beautiful sound when his raspy voice was unmodulated. The child cooed, waking from his slumber, crawling between the two of you and nestling in. “That’s right, baby boy. Your daddy’s name is Din,” you’d hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s head and stroking his large green ears. The three of you were family now. 

Din was a romantic at heart, bringing you gifts from missions and holding you gently as he traces his fingertips across your collarbones and neck while you slept. One thing he didn’t have, you had come to realize, was a sense of humor- at least, not one you understood. It was there, you supposed, but dry. Sarcastic quips. Words with double-meanings. A joke that had to be explained after he said it. You were happy, he knew that, but you rarely laughed. 

That’s part of what transfixes him as he hears your giggle for the first time. It’s not a hard, tear-wrenching, gut-bursting laugh, but it’s a beautiful sound. Just as melodic as your beautiful voice when you sing along with your ukulele.

Din climbs down from the cockpit. You can’t see his face but his body is relaxed- he’s happy. You look up at him with a grin. “Your son thinks he wants to be a musician,” you tease, holding the ukulele above your head, sitting cross-legged on an old cape of his. 

The baby is trying to climb up on you, little green hands grabbing at your shirt in an attempt to reach the ukulele again. It makes Din’s heart warm, the way the son he had come to love is playing with the woman who makes his heart soar. “Really?” He asks, sitting down across from you and tilting his head.

“Really. And I must say, he’s not a very good one,” you tease the child, setting the ukulele down next to you and scooping your baby up in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his head and squeeze him against your chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Maybe the two of you would perform for me. I’ve been told I’m a good judge of talent,” he offers in that tone where you can tell he’s teasing, but it’s with all of the love in his heart. 

You look down at the baby and raise an eyebrow. “Well, baby boy? Should we show your daddy how wonderful you are?” you ask with excitement in your tone. The baby coos excitedly and nods. He’s starting to pick up on the human mannerisms that you and his father display. “Okay, let’s show him.” You set the ukulele in your lap, one hand on the fretboard. You set the child in front of you. “I’ll do the part up here, you play with the strings and sing for him, okay?” You instruct the baby, who giggles excitedly.

You look up at Din with a smile, and you can tell he’s smiling back. “Go for it, ad’ika,” Din tells the child.

His son agrees. He randomly plucks at the strings and squeals loudly. It’s utter cacophony, the farthest thing from music, but the little green baby seems to think it’s a masterpiece. He coos and shouts, little hands grabbing at the strings with no particular rhyme or reason.

You giggle but play around with the frets, letting the child choose his strings. He ends his song with a final shriek and you bite your lip to hold back from bursting into honest-to-god laughter. “Good job, bean!” You coo happily, clapping your hands. 

Din claps too, leather-covered hands muffling the noise. “You’re a fantastic musician, kid,” he tells the little green child, who runs and jumps into his father’s lap, cuddling against his chest. “You have a beautiful laugh,” he tells you honestly, looking up at you and stroking the kid’s head. 

You shake your head and look down at the ukulele, playing a few chords that come to mind. “That’s not my real laugh,” you admit, staring down at the instrument. “My laugh is really ugly. It sounds like a blurrg in labor.”

Din shakes his head, chuckling softly at the comparison. “I can’t possibly think you’d have an ugly laugh, ner mesh’la,” he tells you, resting a hand on your knee. 

“Oh, it is. And you don’t wanna hear it,” you inform him, looking up at him. 

“There’s not a thing about you that could be ugly,” he tells you, his voice sincere and solid. “I want to hear your laugh.”

“Then you’ll have to be funny for once, Din,” you tease, a small smile growing on your face. You stand, pressing a kiss to the top of his helmet and moving away to put your ukulele back in its case. 

That’s the moment Din decides he’s going to make you laugh, in a way that you can’t possibly hold back. It’s a mission.

-

Later that night, you cook dinner for your little family. It’s makeshift at best, a tiny portable flame that you had found in a junk shop on Nevarro, but you have to admit it’s charming. You sauté some vegetables, native from your current planet, that you picked up today. The smell wafts to the cockpit, where Din is fiddling with an electrical wiring problem. He can’t smell it, not with the helmet, but the child can. 

The baby coos at his father and tugs on his pant leg, gesturing towards the ladder. He wants to get down. “What is it, ad’ika?” He asks gruffly, nodding once he sees where the child points. 

Din climbs down the ladder with the baby in tow, smiling as he sees you lost in your own little world.

You’re surprisingly good with electronics, Din discovered after he took you on board, and you’d found that the Razor Crest has a stereo system. It had become your pet project, and now some music was drifting through the hull of the ship. He stands there for a second and smiles at the way you dance around and cook the food, the pan sizzling. It’s a beautiful sight. 

This is the perfect moment, Din thinks. Someone as caring and unguarded as you must be ticklish. Setting down the child and making a gesture for him to be quiet, Din quietly creeps behind you. He has no armor on except his helmet now, allowing him to be stealthy. 

He creeps up behind you, fingers wiggling along your sides. Nothing happens except you squealing in surprise and whipping around in his arms. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You exclaim as you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Just, uh… wanted to see if you were ticklish,” he admits, wrapping his arms around you fully now.

“Well, I’m not,” you roll your eyes, tossing your arms around his neck and looking up at him.

“You’re trying to hear my witch’s cackle, aren’t you?” You ask teasingly, smiling contently at the man holding you.

He shrugs lightly. “Maybe.”

“Din,” you coo and press a kiss to his cold beskar cheek. “Well, I’m almost done cooking. You might as well stay down here,” you tell him and start swaying him along to the music playing. It’s nice; he dances along with you. “You can come out, green bean,” you call to the child.

The child squeals as he jumps out from around a corner, and you mock surprise, jumping. “Oh my Maker, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you cry out to the child, who giggles excitedly. “C’mere, baby,” you laugh and pick him up, holding him between you and Din as you sway along to the music. “You and your daddy are a handful,” you coo to him and press a kiss to the baby’s head. 

“I’m going to get it out of you,” Din declares.

“Sure you are, Djarin,” you roll your eyes and smile softly, pressing your forehead to his in a keldabe kiss. “You know I’m happy here, right? I really couldn’t be any happier. I have you and the kid and I get to travel the galaxy with my two favorite boys.”

He nods. “Of course I do. It’s just… happy people laugh more.”

“I laugh plenty. When you tell me a bad joke, when the kid does something stupid.”

“You giggle or you chuckle. You never laugh.

“Neither do you.”

Din thinks on it for a second. “I suppose that’s true,” he nods in acknowledgment.

“Then you don’t need to make it such a mission, ner verd,” you tease, a loving smile on your face. You break away, keeping the child in your arms as you walk back to the vegetables. “Looks like the food is ready.”

-

It doesn’t come the way he wants it to, but Din finally makes you laugh.

Two days later, you’re dancing around with the baby in the hull of the ship, singing to the child’s favorite song. He squeals along, waving his little hands in the air and spinning in circles. “Din, come down here,” you call out happily. 

“Little busy,” a gruff voice shouts back from the cockpit.

“Din Djarin, you get your tin-can head down here!”

“Later, ner kar’ta.”

You pout and pick up the baby, heading off to the refresher with the child. You suppose it’s time for a bath for the green bean anyway. You change the song and hum along, undressing the child from his tiny brown robes and filling the sink with warm water. You drizzle some of your shampoo into the water, making the top fill with bubbles. 

The child giggles excitedly as you place a rubber ewok in the water. “I know! Isn’t it exciting?” You coo to him, nuzzling your face into his fuzzy little green head. “Oh, you’re going to smell so nice for your buir. Even if he can’t smell you with that tin can on his head. When we cuddle tonight, he’ll just want to eat you up,” you tease, your nose scrunching with a smile. 

When the sink is properly filled, you place the child in it. It’s deep enough to reach just below his armpits, and he splashes around tranquilly. “I know, isn’t it fun?” you laugh softly, scrubbing him down with a bright green sponge in the shape of a frog. 

Getting the baby’s head wet is a challenge. He doesn’t like the feeling, so you know you have to get creative. You grab the little rubber ewok and hold it up. “You want it?” You ask, and he nods. You drag it around beneath the water and he tries to grab it, dunking his head under. Perfect. He takes it from your hand and pops back up giggling. “Good job, squirt!” you coo and rub his head with the sponge.

You dry him with a fluffy towel when you’re done and redress him in a new set of clothing, smiling. “You’re such a cutie,” you murmur and press a kiss to his head. “I love you, you know that?”

And somehow, you know he knows. He can tell, and you can tell he loves you too. 

My mama, my protector, she plays with me and feeds me and snuggles with me. Love. Love love love my mama and my buir. Buir is shiny and quiet but he loves me and sneaks me snacks after bedtime when mama’s sleeping and boops me on the nose and wraps me up in his cape when it’s cold.

You’re taken aback by the sensation before Din descends down the ladder from the cockpit. He walks over to the two of you, giving you a keldabe kiss before heading to the ‘fresher. Clearing your throat, you clear the thought from your mind. You must’ve imagined it. “Well, let’s get ready for bed,” you tell the child. The water runs in the ‘fresher- Din must be showering. You change into a pair of comfortable clothes then turn off the lights and get into the bunk with the child. 

“Are the lights off?” He calls.

“Yes, love,” you shout back. Din emerges from the refresher and snuggles into bed with you and your son. His hair is damp and his face is clean-shaven, you can feel both when you reach for him as the bed dips with his weight. “Hi there,” you smile and press a soft kiss to his lips. 

“Hi,” he chuckles and kisses you a little deeper for a moment. Your hand drifts to his side- he’s shirtless, leaving him only in pants- and his finds your chest, pressing a hand over your heart. The moment is disrupted as one three-fingered hand finds each of your faces and pushes you apart. “Hello, ad’ika,” Din laughs, grabbing the child and snuggling him between the two of you. He presses a soft kiss to the baby’s head, you can hear it, and breathes in deeply. “Mm, your mama gave you a bath.”

“Sure did,” you chuckle. You know Din loves the smell of your shampoo; it reminds him of when you first showered in the Crest, and his helmet was off when he went to the ‘fresher next and it smelled clean and soft and feminine and beautiful.

“Maybe your mama will have to give me a bath sometime,” he murmurs as he kisses your face.

It’s the single most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard the man say. Before you can help yourself, a genuine laugh bursts forth from your throat. It’s loud and obnoxious, making you wiggle and wheeze and even snort. It’s a cackle, almost, but it’s the most beautiful noise Din Djarin has ever heard. He starts laughing along too, burying his face in your chest, chest heaving. Even the child joins in on the giggles, even though he doesn’t know why. 

The three of you lie like that for a minute, wheezing hard and breathing heavily. The laughter ends and you find yourself catching your breath, Din’s face still buried in your chest. His nose nudges between your breasts and you stroke the back of his head, giving a soft giggle. You feel yourself flood with the warmth of embarrassment as you realize you just let loose such an ugly sound. “Din-”

“Don’t even try to apologize, ner mesh’la,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss over your breast, where your heart lies. “That was the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “It’s you being happy, the sound of me making you smile. What could be better than that?” He asks before capturing your lips in a slow kiss. “I’m never going a day without making you laugh again.”

-

Mando’a translations:

ner kar’ta- my heart

ner verd- my warrior

buir- parent (gender neutral word)

ner mesh’la- beautiful

ad’ika- little one

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers

[deepseavibez]

A Star In Your Sky || JJK

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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A Star In Your Sky [Jungkook]

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Genre - Dad!Jungkook; Angst; Sadness; Melancholy; Drabble:

Summary - Helpless as he was, 'what you didn't know couldn't hurt you'... it would have to do. There was nothing else he could do.

Warning - Angst; Sadness; Major Character Death;

Word Count - 1.7k

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Jungkook woke up with a start at the blaring alarm. 5am - his phone flashed in red numbers. Snoozing it, he left it back on the table.

The fog on the windows signifying a cold morning, the dreary grey clouds overcast, the edge of dawn.

Wiping the sleep out of his eyes he righted his shirt, pulling his sleeves over his cold hands, ruffling his hair as he stretched his limbs and swung them over the couch.

The cold hit his bare feet as he stood up and started his way down the hall, switching the lights on as he walked, to navigate his way to the room right next to his.

Door slightly ajar, he pushed on it, the slight creak a normal sound, a part of the surroundings, the many years behind the action of tuning it out.

His eyes fell past the threshold, items he knew by heart, colors he had committed to memory, the scent and the surroundings - his home.

The curtains in this room were purple, deep purple, the hue something akin to indigo, silver moons and stars shone at the catch of even the tiniest bit of light.

There were posters of cartoons, drawings in crayons and paints, a basket of toys in the corner of the room, and Cooky, the pink plush toy staring back on the made bed.

Eyes scanning the toy he remembered the day it came home.

----------

'Dad, look what Uncle Jinnie got me,' Moon ran up to him, as she giggled in excitement, eyes lighting up at the plush toy in her hand.

Turning toward the sound of his daughter, he bent down on one knee so she could hop into his waiting arms. He held her easily, her form tiny and stable in his muscled hands.

Her momentary glance to the tattoo on his skin, a second nature, something that made her smile, as her name had been carved into his forearm, stars surrounding it with a Saturn ring.

She was Daddy's little girl and she loved every moment of it.

Meeting her fathers eyes, she held up the pink bunny in her arms, a prize worth every drop of attention he could give.

Smiling bemused he asked her, 'What about all the other teddy's in your room, babygirl?'

He nosed at her cheek as he teased her.

Her eyes went as wide as saucers, 'Dad!' she exclaimed in a mock whisper, 'They aren't Teddy's, they all have names.'

'Yeah, Jk, how can you call them Teddy's,' Jin played along, just as scandalized at his dongsaengs choice of words.

Mouth twitching, the mole on his chin, shifting at the movement, he raised an eyebrow at his hyung, 'I'm surprised you didn't get her the RJ.'

'Now, now, I did explain the perks of having RJ, but she is Daddy's little girl.' They smiled, endeared with the toddler between them.

It was the last proper, happy outing they had, ice-cream, feeding the seagulls, playing in the sand, her best days with her father and her Uncle Jin.

----------

‘I don't care what happens to me, I don’t care about the money! Just please save my baby, please!’ Jungkook was enraged, angry at the world, helpless, desperate.

Stage 4. She was only a child, her tiny body fit in his arms, her form only half of him.

It came out of nowhere, severe bruising and bleeding when she fell down, or got cut. Trouble breathing when she ran, nausea when she ate and sometimes not wanting to eat at all. Waking up to her cries in the middle of the night, sniffling quietly, at the pains in her body.

Too many symptoms, too many blood tests later, too many restless, sleepless nights, she was diagnosed with leukemia.

There were weeks of waiting for results, test after test, of having to sit her in his lap, and explain why she needed to see countless doctors and that things would get better, that it was just for now.

But as he stood opposite her doctor, his hyung holding his shoulder, he had to go home and tell her he lied. He lied.

He'd have to tell her that there was no turning back, and if it was too late for his daughter, the love of his life, the very center of his world, for him, there would be no way forward.

----------

He stood at the doorway of her hospital room, having just gone home to change up and get her favorite mac and cheese. The sight he met every single time, not something he had gotten used to, despite the number of weeks he’d been at the forefront of it all.

The tubes along her face, her nose, in her arms, something a baby should never have to go through. A parent should never have to think about outliving their child. It wasn’t the cycle. It wasn’t fair.

She deserved, to hit double digits, to find love, to have him fight the need to protect her from every mistake, to always be there for her, she deserved friends, memories, the chance to discover hobbies, she deserved more time.

The saddest part was that she was too young to think of any of those things, and yet, maybe it could also be a blessing.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right.

Blinking back tears he plastered a fake smile on his face, the brightest one he felt he could muster. ‘Hey, babygirl.’

She looked up, a small smile, slowly making its way up her cheeks, her face pale. Opening her mouth to speak, he shook his head at her. ‘No, no, shh, baby, don’t hurt your throat.’

Making his way over to her bed, he gingerly climbed in next to her, the nurses used to his presence, the doctors having no objection considering the care he had with her as he slotted himself protectively over her.

Pecking her on the head, he took note of the scrapbook in her hand. She looked at it everyday, pictures of her six loving uncles, Taehyung plaiting her hair, Jimin showing her tiny jewelry pieces, stick-ons for her ears, Namjoon with a bunch of block letters, a tower of it clearly having collapsed around them. Her Uncle Hobi always made her smile, as he had her on his back and his neck, walked her around the apartments like he was her personal chauffeur, Yooni holding her as she slept, light music playing in the background, and her Uncle Jin, her favourite Uncle Jin, always around, choosing school bags, spoiling her with anything she wanted, anything that caught her eye, especially morning blueberry waffles and her dad, Jungkook, her dad, the youngest, the one with the most time, the most allowance to make reckless decisions, the one who adapted his whole life around her inclusion in his life.

‘Hey, remember the story of your first birthday,’ His voice exuberant at her cake covered face,’when you didn’t want to wear the red jacket Uncle Tae gave you, and you cried for his instead,’ he petted her head as he searched her face for recognition.

She pouted at the mention of it, the story recounted so many times before,’Uncle Tae’s jacket was purple, Dad. How could I not want it,’ Her cheekiness earned her a light flick to her nose.

She upturned it crossly, a little zest in her eyes at the familiar chastising.

They paused, looking at each other, before the smile slowly disappeared from her face, the reaction apparently contagious as Jungkook sat up in concern. ‘Dad,’ she started softly, her eyes trained on the blanket covering her legs, ’are you gonna forget me?’

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat at the innocent question, striving to show no reaction on his face. Moving swiftly, he worked his way around the cables and maneuvered her into his lap. They tried, he tried, and she had been so strong but even at her tender age she knew it, he knew it, the time for sugar coated words, and false hopes were over, acceptance was all that was left.

‘Close your eyes,’ he prompted, wiping tears he could no longer hold back, away from his eyes.‘Can you see me?’

‘My eyes-,’

‘No, keep them closed, can you see me,’ he reiterated, beside himself.

‘No, I can’t see you.’

‘But you can hear me right,’ taking note of her face, her nose, her cute cheeks, he waited for her answer.

‘Yes, I can hear you.’

‘Well,’ he sniffled, head falling against her forehead lightly, the contact needed, ’that’s what it will be like. I will always be here for you. I will always talk to you, and I promise,’ his hand found hers and squeezed it, ’I will never forget you. You may not see me and I may not see you, but you will always be the biggest part of me. And I promise, I will never, ever, forget you.’

He broke at his last words, pulling her into his embrace, holding his Moon, wishing with everything he had left, he would never have to let her go.

Moon passed that night, in her sleep, in his arms, as painless as it could possibly be. Knowing what was going to happen, couldn’t have prepared Jungkook for the real thing. But he knew he had to let go of her lifeless body, he knew he had to call the one person who could handle him or whatever came next for him, and as soon as he saw his Jin hyung, the one that named his perfect girl, he fell into his arms and cried, as his heart shattered into pieces.

----------

Standing at doorways were his thing these days, he thought, everything he did was not enough, not too much, like sitting on the fence, falling in the middle.

It had been a year, but he couldn’t clean out this room, he still woke up at 5am despite his flexible job because he had to take care of her routine, maybe someday he would have to stop coming in here, but right now, the made bed, the unused room, the stillness of it all, would remind him that even for a time, he had something beautiful, something worth all that pain, a human that he would meet someday again.

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[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Can u do a dad boxer!tom holland x mom reader were they have a 2 month old baby girl and she suprises him at his boxing match and he gets kind of upset because she doesn’t want the baby there for safety and the environment. And he opponent says some disrespectful stuff about the baby and reader and long story short Tom gets kicked out the ring . Angst but a happy ending 

ouuh yes! thanks for giving me some boxer!tom with dad!tom as a bonus darling 💞

slight angst, language and fighting under the cut

｡･ﾟﾟ･ clearing my inbox… slowly ･ﾟﾟ･｡

During his successful boxing journey, Tom finally reached his goal at being the youngest participant in his category thanks to all these endless hours spent at the gym. It finally paid off. Nonetheless he wouldn’t be here without you, his best supporter, who never got scared about his quite peculiar job and the first to treat his wounds after a match. You, the mother of his child, a two-month healthy baby girl. The thought of being a dad never crossed Tom’s mind but you gifted him with something he never thought he deserved. And here he was now, living from his passion next to the ones he loved the most because he wanted to give his family the best.

And tonight was the night. But he was really stressed.

Alone in the locker room, Tom sat on a bench while keeping his head between his hands, his boxing gloves resting on his thighs. It became his ritual before every match to get mentally prepared by himself, to get “in the zone” as he always said. Once done he stood to bandage his hands before putting his gloves on when he heard three knocks on the door before it opened.

“Ready, Tom?” asked his coach fully appearing at the door, hands in his jeans pockets.

Tom nodded, a slight frown on his face showing he was indeed ready. “Yes, coach.”

“Good. But before that, your little fanclub wants to see ya.”

The words from the coach confused Tom for a second, just like the grin he gave him right before slightly moving to the side, letting a very familiar figure make its way in the room. Tom’s face lightened up at the sight of you – as beautiful as ever with that candid and gorgeous smile of yours – and he got ready to take you in his arms to welcome the good luck charm kiss you always gave him before his matches.

“Babe! You made it–”

But he suddenly stopped, the words blocked in his throat, as he saw another presence he was not expecting to see at all. His smile instantly vanished to be replaced with one of confusion.

“What is Maya doing here?”

Maya, your two-month daughter. His little bubble of joy and pride. The baby was nicely wrapped around a white fluffy blanket to block the cold air from the place, a cute pink beanie poking out of it while she was peacefully sleeping in your arms.

You softly kissed your baby’s forehead then looked up at your partner, smiling. “Lily wasn’t able to babysit her tonight, so I just decided to bring Maya with me so she will cheer for you too. I also saw your mum in the bleachers, she kept a spot for us and–”

“Maya has nothing to do here, (Y/N)!”

Tom’s voice startled you, he never raised his voice at you. “B-But I thought you’ll be happy? I-I didn’t know you would be this upset–” You blinked a few times, slightly confused but before you could add anything else, Tom spoke again.

“That’s not a place for a baby, of course I’m upset!”

Again you got startled by his voice. Tom’s coach was still standing at the doorframe of the room, clearly uneasy at the scene going on in front of him, but decided to not say a single word since he had no right to interfere in his protégé’s private life. Still, a sudden tension rose and was obvious in the lockers.

You brought Maya closer to your chest, eyeing her down hoping she didn’t wake up. You thought you acted with good intentions, never thinking a second about upsetting your lover right before the most important match of his career. Your eyes diverted from Tom’s, looking down at your feet as your entire frame started trembling, trying your best to not cry by biting your bottom lip hard because it was not the time to make a scene.

“Fuck,” whispered Tom, finally back to his senses when he saw you shut yourself away like you often did during stressful situations. “I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

He approached you with big steps, his arms gently embracing you and his daughter against his strong frame and proceeded to kiss your temples to soothe you. “Shhh, it’s alright, baby. I’m not mad at you at all, I love y–”

“Well well well, would ya look at ‘dis!”

Fuck, not him.

A baritone voice echoed in the hallway behind you, the sarcastic tone making Tom’s body tense as his look automatically fell onto the one person he didn’t want to see right now. Or at least before the actual match. His tonight’s opponent. Tom’s coach clicked his tongue while arranging his cap, hoping desperately that nothing would go wrong.

You turned your head towards the voice, Tom making sure to keep you and your daughter as close to him as possible, his hands tightening around your hips as he took a step back, bringing you with him.

“Tommy brought his lil’ family here!” the opponent said with a dirty smirk painted on his face. A simple glance at him brought shivers down your spine, applying a slight pressure of Maya’s face to hide her against your chest. You swallowed with some difficulties, your mouth now dry as you also felt tension invading your lover’s body. “Thought it was a friendly family show, boy? Want ‘em to watch how much I’m gonna destroy ya not even your lady will recognize ya?”

Tom’s jaw tensed and his coach had the good reflex to somehow peacefully step between them both, also trying to take you away from being in the middle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give ‘er a go once I’m done with ya, loser. Gonna shag ‘er good like real men do–”

You were brought to the side with Maya by the coach just in time before Tom stomped his way on his opponent, almost jumping on his throat as he succeeded at punching him in the face the way he deserved it. Tom was seeing red, adrenalin invaded his body and boiling in his veins at such inappropriate comments made to you, the love of his life.

Before this could go even further, Tom’s coach and his opponent one quickly stepped in to separate and calm the two men. Insults were of course thrown at each other, Tom still badly determined to give one or two more punches to this despiteful human being but thankfully, his coach succeeded at holding him down.

Once all the chaos died in the locker room, Tom also calmed down then quickly came back at you, his body in desperate search for you and his daughter. He muttered so many “sorry”’s in your ears, his face nestled in your neck while embracing you against him. All you could do was hug him back, the harsh words from that rude man still resonating in the back of your head as a sob broke from your lips. Tom gently rocked you side to side, hoping to also soothe his little Maya who just started to whine lightly in her blanket. You stayed like this, the three of you engulfed in each other’s warmth until they called him to join the boxing ring, you and your lover exchanging words of love and encouragement in soft whispers.

But tonight, Tom lost the final.

All the stress he accumulated before the match didn't help for sure, but it was never your fault. He admitted it himself when his coach was treating and stitching some of his wounds back in the locker room. His opponent was definitely stronger than he was. Nonetheless the match promoted Tom in another way, still giving him good publicity as one of the best new talents in the boxing field.

After he took a shower, Tom wrapped a towel around his hips and got back to his locker to get fresh clothes when he saw you sitting on the bench. Aware of his presence you stood up, a worried look on your face and decided to wait for him to walk to you. You must have left Maya to his mum since he saw no stroller in the room. He opened his arms as he approached you then welcomed you back in his embrace, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist and still careful to not apply too much pressure to the spot he got hit on.

He let out a long sigh, this time more relaxed, and pressed a few kisses on the crown of your head. You looked back up at him, chin resting on his torso as one hand gently rested on his cheek to caress the bruise slowly darkening on his cheekbone. Your eyes locked with his in silence.

“I lost, I’m sorry,” Tom whispered before leaving another feather-like kiss on your forehead.

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Your soft eyes appeased him, just like your big innocent eyes did. “I never intended to upset you, a-and I’m sure that’s why you lost tonight–” Once again your lips pressed tightly in a thin line to stop any sob to leave. “A-And you also got injured, I’m so sorry Tom, I–”

Tom interrupted you with a deep kiss – at first he wanted to give you a soft one but your distressed look pained him too much. He cupped your face in his still moist hands from the shower, making sure to not let you go. When you finally parted to catch your breath, your lips stayed close to one another, still bruising and sharing the same air.

“It was not your fault, baby,” Tom said while gently caressing your cheeks. “It’s my stupid ass to blame here. I got carried away by too many things but the worst was I almost made you cry, when I promised I would never. You and Maya are the most precious things in my life that I should protect at all cost and even if I lost the match tonight, at least I gave this asshole some good well-placed punches in his face.”

You slightly giggled at Tom’s cheeky comment, clearly to caml the atmosphere. He pecked your lips once again before you nuzzled your face against his still naked torso, the natural scent of his skin relaxing you.

“No one messes with my family, or death is what’s waiting for them.”

… I should write more angst 😂

Tagging some mutuals and cuties✨ @allegra-writes @queencharry @tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @thollandss @worldoftom @spideyspeaches @chaoticpete @tetralea @londonspidey

[morganaspendragonss]

turn to dust all that i adore

whoops it’s a 2b spec fic based on two seconds in a promo love that

title from things we lost in the fire by bastille

ao3 | 2.3k | 2b spoilers

The fire continues raging whenever TK closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse than the sight that greets him when his eyes are open. He wishes he could wipe that awful night from his memory completely and go back to where they were just a few days ago, happy and safe and in their home. They don’t even have that anymore, the house little more than ash, and TK would be okay with that - they could rebuild from that - if Carlos weren’t so silent and still in front of him. 

The fire was three days ago; TK hasn’t seen Carlos awake in four. He’d been in the middle of a 24-hour shift when the call came through, bickering with Nancy about the merits of various sitcoms, Captain Vega probably rolling her eyes in the back as they returned to the station. 

Nancy had quietly offered to drive when they found out the address, but TK had shaken his head. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, and he’d pressed down a little harder than necessary on the accelerator, praying he’d be able to get there fast enough. The house was a lost cause, if what dispatch said was true, but if he could save Carlos, then that would be enough.

He’d failed - of course he had. An explosion had ripped through the building just as they’d pulled up, the glass shattering as flames leapt from their bedroom window. TK had felt a cold dread settle inside him, and his worst fears had been confirmed when the team emerged with Carlos limp in their arms.

He’s alive, but the damage had been done. Too much smoke inhalation and multiple horrific burns left him hanging by a thread; it’s a miracle, really, that the heart monitor is still beeping out a steady rhythm. TK can’t be thankful, though, not when he knows everything could turn on its head in an instant. Not when they’ve already lost so much.

A soft knock on the door grabs TK’s attention. He looks up to see his dad standing there, a sad smile on his face and a plastic-wrapped sandwich in hand. TK twists his face into a grimace and returns to watching the bed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Son -”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve been saying that for days,” his dad points out, walking over and pointedly laying the sandwich in TK’s lap. “Starving yourself isn’t going to make him wake up any faster.”

TK barely spares the sandwich a cursory glance. “Nor is forcing myself to eat.”

His dad sighs, crossing the room and grabbing the extra chair. He sets it down next to TK’s and, though he doesn’t look, TK knows he’s being subjected to one of his ‘dad looks’.

“TK, you’ve barely left the hospital since it happened,” he says. “I know it’s hard right now, but you can always come back and stay with me. You still have a home.”

“Not without him, I don’t.”

He hears his dad’s sharp intake of breath, feels his hand running through his hair, but TK’s detached from it all. He studies Carlos’s face, every part familiar to him, but so strange and foreign now. Carlos has never been a restless sleeper - that’s all TK - but there’s usually some movement. A crease appearing between his brows as his face scrunches up, his muscles shifting as he pulls TK closer, his nose gently nuzzling the back of TK’s neck. This still version of him isn’t Carlos. This isn’t the man TK loves.

But it’s close as he’s going to get until Carlos comes back to him, and TK can’t stand the thought of leaving him. In all the months they’ve been dating, they’ve rarely spent a night apart, and most of those were either on shift or still in their bed, with a pillow that smelt like the other and the promise of seeing each other again soon. Going back to his dad’s house would only be bearable if Carlos were with him, but that’s not possible, so neither is leaving.

“TK, I -”

“If you’re just here to give me this,” he interrupts, waving the sandwich in his dad’s direction, “then, thanks, but you should probably go now. His parents are coming in a bit and the hospital barely lets three of us be in here as it is.”

His dad recoils, wounded, but doesn’t budge, much to TK’s irritation. He’s really not in the mood for any more meaningless talk or thinly veiled attempts to get him to eat or sleep.

“Dad, please.”

“I was contacted by the PD this morning,” his dad says instead. TK’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “They found out what caused the fire.”

TK waits, but his dad suddenly becomes very reticent, his eyes flicking between TK and the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t something as simple as the electrics blowing or the washing machine malfunctioning; it’s worse, and TK’s breath seems to stick in his lungs.

“Dad?” he croaks.

Their eyes finally meet, his dad’s face arranged into a sympathetic grimace. “It was arson.”

Time stops.

“What?” TK breathes, shaking his head. Arson. Someone burned their home down and almost killed Carlos, on purpose. And for what? To kill them? The only reason TK wasn’t caught up in it too, after all, is because he was fortunate enough to be on shift that night. “Do they know who?”

“I’m sorry,” his dad says, voice full of regret. “It’s been happening all over the city, no leads so far.”

TK sits back in his chair, a white-hot spark of anger flashing through him as he once more takes in the many bandages on Carlos’s body. He wonders if this was how Judd felt those weeks ago when he found out the guy who’d run them off the bridge was also in the hospital, because TK would very much like to go out and find the people who did this. He wants them to pay for what they’ve done to the love of his life.

As is sensing where his mind has gone, his dad starts rubbing gentle circles on his back, though it doesn’t calm TK like it usually does.

“I think I’ll stay here until his parents show up,” he says. “If that’s alright?”

It’s a non-question; his tone makes it clear that he’s not going anywhere no matter what, but TK doesn’t have it in him to put up even a token argument. He simply nods wearily, and settles in for another day of waiting - another day without his boyfriend’s comforting presence at his side.

*

A week after the fire, he’s told he can go back to the house, if he wants. He doesn’t, really, but he goes anyway, knowing that Carlos will have questions when he wakes up, and maybe he’ll be able to salvage something.

Probably not, but it’s never been the stuff that’s mattered to him. It’s been what the loss of it all represents, the memories that now exist only in his head and in the ashes.

TK stares up at the blackened husk of their home, something keeping him rooted in the middle of the street. Police tape is still up and there’s an officer waiting to escort him in when he’s ready, but TK just… He doesn’t know if he can do this.

“TK?”

He jumps at the unexpected voice, turning to see Carlos’s neighbour from two doors down, Molly, her daughter trailing behind her. TK doesn’t know many of the people around here, but Molly and her husband are often to be found playing with Lilia on the porch, and they always make a point of greeting them. Carlos has even babysat for them a few times, though TK’s rarely there for that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, smiling apologetically. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs. “I’m okay,” he replies, and Molly seems to understand what that really means. “Carlos is still in hospital, but we’re, um. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon.”

She nods, glancing at the house. “It’s terrible, what happened. You’ve got somewhere to stay, right?”

“I’ve only just moved out of my dad’s place, so I’ll just go back there while we figure something out. Guess he’ll be glad we don’t have to transport all my stuff this time.”

The joke is hollow, and Molly’s face twists in sympathy. “Well, if you need anything, we’re happy to help out however we can. Carlos has always been good to us - to everyone here - and we hate that you’re going through this now. Send him our love, okay?”

TK gives her a small smile, nodding. He’s about to excuse himself to finally go inside, when Lilia tugs at her mother’s hand, whispering something in her ear when Molly leans down. 

“We were baking when we saw you pull up,” Molly explains, straightening. “Lilia insisted on bringing these out to you, didn’t you, Lils?”

Lilia beams up at him when TK looks over to her, thrusting a small tupperware in his general direction. “Cookies!” she exclaims, by way of explanation.

TK chuckles and squats so he’s at her height, taking the box from her. She’s watching him expectantly, so he takes a cookie - clumsily decorated with mountains of sprinkles - and pops it in his mouth, making a show of enjoying it.

“My compliments to the chef,” he says, licking his lips playfully. Lilia giggles, then, without warning, throws her arms around him, the force of it almost sending him on his ass. Molly gasps and reaches to pull her daughter away, but TK shakes his head at her, mouthing an, It’s okay.

Steadying himself, he gently wraps his arms around Lilia’s back, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of his neck as she attempts to squeeze him within an inch of his life. It’s enough to pull a real smile out of him, though tears also spring to his eyes, a sudden emotion overwhelming him. He brushes them away hastily when Lilia unwraps herself from him, but it’s clear that Molly noticed, judging by the sad smile on her face.

“I hope Mr Carlos gets better soon,” Lilia says, her voice earnest in a way only a five-year old’s can be. 

TK nods. “Me too.”

“He gave me sweets.”

A laugh bursts out of him at the sudden comment. TK leans close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Shall I tell you a secret? He gave me sweets as well.”

Lilia gasps as though she’s heard something incredibly scandalous. TK laughs again, before standing back up and turning to Molly, who’s been watching the two of them with clear amusement.

“Thank you,” he tells her. “For coming out and talking, and for the cookies.”

“It’s the least we could do,” she says, waving him off. “Like I said, let us know if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk. We’ll be there.”

TK thanks her again, waving at them both as they head back inside. He turns to his and Carlos’s place, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

He can do this.

*

Inside is much as he expects. The worst of the rubble has been cleared, but there’s still some detritus lying around, including a few of their things. TK stoops and carefully retrieves a framed photo from the floor, wiping the dust off the cracked glass. The picture inside is barely recognisable, the colours warped, but he knows the image like the back of his hand - a candid of him and Carlos taken by Marjan during one of their hangs. She’d caught Carlos mid-laugh, a grin plastered on TK’s own face as they’d stared into each others’ eyes.

Marjan had grumbled about how frustratingly lovesick they both were, but the photo quickly became one of TK’s favourites, and it had made its way into a frame less than a week later. TK’s heart aches at the sight of it ruined; he can always print another as it’s still saved on his phone, but it still hurts. Everything does, right now.

As he gazes around the space, eyes catching on mementos and remembering how it all used to look, TK is struck by how much this place had felt like home. He’s only been officially living here for a month, but it’s been theirs for far longer than that, TK’s stuff worming its way in among Carlos’s until it became natural to see two pairs of shoes by the door, two sets of keys in the bowl. 

This was theirs, and now it’s nothing.

He drops the photo frame on his way out the door, not sparing a look back as he walks away.

*

He gets the call halfway back to the hospital and TK forgets all about speed limits as he races the rest of the way. He sprints through the corridors, the path to Carlos’s room learned by heart, and skids to a stop in the doorway, his eyes filling with tears at the sight before him.

Carlos, awake and smiling and alive.

TK lets out a sob, his hand flying to his mouth. Carlos turns, his smile widening when he catches sight of him, and he wordlessly lifts his palm up in invitation.

And who is TK to refuse it?

“Hi, baby,” he gasps, before kissing his boyfriend, palms framing Carlos’s face. Carlos’s hands come up to clutch at his wrists, and TK presses their foreheads together, silently revelling in this moment.

There’s a long road still ahead of them - Carlos needs to heal, and they’ll have to do so much to get back on their feet - but he can’t care about that right now. Being here, right now, with Carlos’s warm touch stroking over his skin, is all TK needs.

Carlos came back to him, and that’s the only thing that matters.

[90gemini]

Falling Up 🌇 Steve Rogers x Reader AU

Summary: A meet cute on a morning train between pediatric intern Steve and reader.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: big crowds, just too much fluff ngl

A/N: hope this makes you smile, i really love this AU, might be a part 1 of a whole series:)

Every single morning, as if on cue, approximately two minutes before my train leaves the station near my apartment, I come to the realization that if I do not get into full sprint mode right that second, I will miss my train and then be late to my first class and then have to walk in embarrassed while everyone is already inside and then proceed to feel embarrassed over it the entire day. So, considering the fact that I never seem to make myself leave the house just a few minutes early, for the past three years that I have been going to college, almost every morning I run into the train the last moment before the doors close completely out of breath, and have to subtly work on composing myself much longer than I am comfortable to admit.

Yet today, without even realizing, I got out of my apartment solid seven minutes earlier than usual. My roommate and I were so engaged in our conversation about the events of last nights party so we walked out together still invested in the drama which left me pleasantly surprised with the time I was left to spend before my train leaves after we went our separate ways. The extra time opened a whole lot of opportunities for me, almost made me believe I should wake up earlier every morning and not leave for class at the last possible moment. So, with the 420 extra seconds I got today, I managed to actually dig my earphones out my bag, plug them in and wait for the train with the sounds of my morning playlist filling my mind.

Inside the train, when I wasn’t preoccupied by catching my breath but also, even more importantly, focusing on not making it too obvious I was out of my breath, I became very much aware of my surroundings, noticing everything and everyone around me.

There was a girl sitting down right across from where I was standing, she looked about my age and she held a little baby in her arms, slowly rocking it and I noticed the way she was looking totally spent but the moment her baby made this cute laughing sound, a smile spread on her face completely overshadowing the exhaustion in her eyes. Next to the door was an older woman not so subtly judging everyone who was sitting down and has not offered her to sit and right next to the door was a man sitting down and sleeping like a log. I had the urge to wake him up and ask him when he has to get down or if he has already missed his stop, but in all honesty, it was too early in the morning for me to be considerate like that. While continuing to carelessly look around, my eyes landed on something that opened drawers in my memory I did not even know existed.

It was a book cover. A simple white background featuring a boy with frizzy hair who was flying over a drawn-on city with the words ‘Falling Up’ in the middle. So many moments of my dad reading poems from that book to me before bed when I was a kid came up and instantly forced a smile on my face.

In my head, I started reciting the words to my favorite poem from that book, remembering my dad teaching me how to read with those poems when my eyes fell on the arm holding the book and the man attached to it.

And God, was I thankful for the boosted-up heating in the train this morning because that made him take off his leather jacket and throw it over his arm, leaving only a thin, too tight white shirt to cover his upper body and it worked amazing for me that the shirt wasn’t doing its job well.

I heard the sound of the door opening and saw way too many people try to make their way into the train making it way more crowded which pushed the mystery man to move closer to me. Not as close as I wanted though.

My mind was focused solely on him that at one point I wasn’t even aware what station we were at and have I maybe missed mine, but I found myself not caring at all. The point my eyes landed on his face I was basically addicted. His hair was a gorgeous mess, a bit outgrown but looking so good. And, oh my God, his eyes. I was so upset I am only seeing them under the fluorescent light of the subway because I am positive that it would be an out of body experience seeing them under the sunlight.

At that moment I was sure he was the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on and was already cursing myself because I knew I was too nervous to talk to him and will regret that forever.

His lips would occasionally move into a small, barely noticeable grin while he was reading and every once in a while, his tongue would go over his lips leaving them all full and glistening which led to a whole new set of unholy thoughts entering my brain. And his fingers, the way he flipped over the pages was just so-

‘’May I help you somehow?’’ I was snapped out of my trance by his voice and met his eyes that were looking into mine with the coldest, most unimpressed expression as if he was in front of the most annoying person to ever grace the Earth.

‘’Shit, sorry,’’ I apologized quietly and pulled out one earphone to hear him better because no matter how rude it looks he is going to be right now, his voice was just heavenly. ‘’I zoned out when I saw that book.’’ I pointed to the book in his hand and his eyes followed the direction my finger was showing as if he was surprised I wasn’t staring at him but at the book. I was most definitely staring at him though, but I don’t plan on revealing that. ‘’My dad used to read it to me when I was a kid so just seeing the cover brought back too many memories. Sorry.’’ I said in a soft voice and gave him a forced smile hoping he was not going to talk to me again because I really don’t want to be yelled at by the most attractive man alive at 7.23am on a Tuesday in the subway.

‘’You know this book?’’ his voice broke the short-lived silence between us, making my head snap up to look at him again and I was met with a much softer face adorning an adorable smile. ‘’You must think I’m so weird for reading poetry for children.’’ He let out a small laugh which was, without exaggeration, the greatest sound I have ever heard in my life.

‘’No, I think it’s cute.’’ A sly smirk found its way on my face as I felt my usual confidence come back now that I knew he wasn’t planning on yelling at me.

‘’So, you think I’m cute?’’ The smirk on his lips, on the other hand, was not as subtle as mine was as he turned more towards me, quickly closing the book and focusing his eyes on my face.

‘’I didn’t say one thing about you being cute, I was talking about the book.’’ I lied to keep my cool even though cute truly wasn’t the first word that came to my mind when looking at him. It would be something more in the neighborhood of I-would-drop-on-my-knees-for-you-right-this-momentor whatever.

‘’Okay, so you don’t think I am cute?’’ he leaned closer and licked his lips instantly sending shivers down my spine. This man is too much for me to handle right now.‘’Because I think you are really cute.’’ He whispered loudly enough only for me to hear and moved away a bit to fully appreciate my flustered expression because he obviously was aware of the exact effect he had on me.

‘’Well, I guess you aren’t that bad yourself.’’ The fact that I was not literally falling apart in front of this god cosplaying as a man is still not something I can understand. ‘’And thank you.’’ Saying that my voice got super quiet, and I could see him grin proudly at my reaction.

‘’You are welcome,’’ he didn’t finish that sentence and looked at me asking for my name.

‘’Y/n.’’

‘’Y/n.’’ he repeated and stepped closer to me with an excuse of letting someone else pass and giving them space. ‘’That is a real pretty name.’’ I smiled to say thank you and looked at my feet for a second to get myself together.

I didn’t even run to catch this train yet I’m still out of breath.

‘’I am Steve by the way.’’ He stretched out his free hand in my direction but not for one second broke the eye contact between us. ‘’It’s so nice to meet you, Y/n.’’ God, just to hear him say my name was killing me.

‘’Nice to meet you too, Steve.’’ I connected my hand with his much larger one and was painfully aware of the fact he must have heard the soft sound I made the second my skin first touched his.

‘’So,’’ he continued while slowly pulling his hand from mine. ‘’do you like poetry in general, ‘’he lifted the arm with the book and nodded towards it. ‘’or is it just this one book you like?’’ he asked with so much interest in his voice making me absolutely thrilled he was keeping the conversation going.

‘’I love poetry.’’ I kept my answer short because forming decent sentences was a though job while looking at this man and seeing the way he was looking at me.

‘’What kind?’’ he adjusted in his spot somehow that he was even closer to me, leaving basically no space between us, yet to everyone else it seemed normal because the morning rush in the New York City subway never was famous for the spaciousness.

‘’About love.’’ I said softly and witnessed his expression changing from the cocky, overconfident one he had on, to a completely soft one.

‘’Same here.’’ He replied and as if he can do it on cue, looked even more deeply into my eyes. ‘’I like reading about how people feel things I have never felt, it lets me to feel the emotion without risking being hurt.’’ He confessed to me and I couldn’t believe a guy that has such a hard exterior is ready to share that much emotion after talking to a stranger in a train for only a few minutes. But I was thanking all the gods he was.

‘’That’s much deeper than my reason for loving it.’’ A small smile appeared on his face as he looked at me to continue. ‘’I just like reading about love and watching movies about love and basically everything about love. Makes me feel all warm around the heart.’’ He let out a small laugh reminding me why it’s my new favorite sound. ‘’That must sound so cheesy.’’

‘’I don’t think it’s cheesy. I think like it is really nice to love love.’’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘’It’s cute.’’

‘’So you are calling me cute?’’ I looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he let out a huff once again leaning all into my personal space.

‘’I am. I have once before too.’’ He whispered near my ear and I know he knew just what he was doing to me.

‘’What poets do you like the most?’’ he moved away leaving me upset over not feeling his breath on my neck anymore.

‘’I don’t read a lot in English.’’ I fumbled with the edge of my jacket and lowered my eyes to focus on my boots because his face was way too distracting. ‘’My dad is not from here and I got the gene for loving poetry from him so most of the things I read are in his mother tongue because it’s really the only way to keep myself from forgetting it.‘’ Making a mental note to call my dad tonight because it’s been too long, I suddenly became extremely aware that I am sharing so many personal information about me with a random man I met on the subway. ‘’So yeah, most of the poets I read, never got international fame so you unfortunately didn’t have a chance to hear of them.’’ I felt a dash of electricity go through my body when he put his hand under my chin tilting it up so we can once again face each other.

‘’Don’t hide that gorgeous face doll.’’ Dear Lord, I can’t believe I might actually die on a train because of a hot, poetry reading guy. ‘’I’d love to read some of that poetry you like if it is translated.’’

‘’I don’t know if any of it is translated but you can check, I can write down some of the names for you.’’ I said quickly really happy that he wants to read something I will recommend, still recovering from that ‘gorgeous’ comment.

‘’I don’t have anything you can write it on, we can just-‘’

‘’Oh, I have a piece of paper to write it on to, it’s no problem.’’ I interrupted him while flashing him another smile and started digging through my bag for pen and a paper only to have his hand stop mine making me look at him with confusion written all over my face.

‘’I was thinking something more in the lines of you writing your number in my phone,’’ he took his phone out his pocket and directed it at me. ‘’then I can text you and we can meet up so you can tell me more about those poets and maybe translate some for me on the spot if you want to.’’ The smile was evident on his face when I took the phone out his hand and started writing my number into it.

‘’I would really like that, Steve.’’ I gave him his phone back with a smile a bit too big for the cool persona I was trying to present myself as.

‘’Well, I am really looking forward to it, Y/n.’’ he returned the big smile and focused his eyes on my face once again.

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ I looked at him curiously.

‘’Anything, doll.’’

That nickname is going to kill me.

‘’How come you are reading poetry for children?’’ he left out a chuckle and gazed over the book in his hand.

‘’There are two reasons, actually.’’ He shifted from one leg to another and started talking kind of nervously. ‘’Firstly, this book is something I always come back to for some reason. My grandma bought it for me when I was just a kid and I reread it for too many times, so I always go back to it because it’s safe. Something like playing Friends in the background because there is nothing else to watch but it always makes you feel good, you know?’’ I nodded and he continued. ‘’Second is that currently I am interning at the pediatric wing at the hospital downtown and kids love me reading these poems to them so I always find a few I think they would like the most when I am getting to work in the morning.’’

‘’That is really amazing, Steve.’’ I put my hand on his forearm and looked at him with so much affection in my eyes. ‘’Those kids must feel really special having you read to them, it’s really heartwarming you do that even though you don’t have to.’’

‘’They are going through too much shit, if I can make it any better for them, I will.’’ How pathetic is it that talking about kids with this guy I met literally minutes ago, makes me think about having his kids?

‘’That is really too sweet.’’ I had plans on saying so much more to him, but I heard the automatic voice announce how my station is next. ‘’Shit I have to go; this is my stop.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He said and I swear I could hear some disappointment in his voice. ‘’I guess I will see you again?’’ he asked as if he is not sure if that is going to happen.

‘’You most definitely will see me again.’’ I looked at him fondly again and I don’t even know what force gave me the confidence to do so, but before making my way to the door I got on my tip toes and kissed his cheek.

‘’Bye, Steve. See you soon.’’ I said while walking away from him but still keeping my eyes on his as I saw him put his hand on the place I kissed him with a small smile on his face.

‘’See you soon, Y/n.’’ Was the last thing I heard before exiting the train, completely sure that I won’t be able to focus today in class.

But I don’t mind.

really hope you enjoyed this, any comment on it would truly mean a lot!<3

[another-tmnt-writer]

You Fell From the Sky

Leonardo x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Prompt: okay this'll sound real dumb bUT- this universe!reader meets bayverse boys? like maybe reader wakes up in the bayverse and is very aware about the turtles? i dunno it sounds confusing but maybe it's an interesting prompt?

Note: I love this concept. I’ve dipped my toes in the water before, but this time, I’m going all the way. Also, I know you didn’t specify a turtle, but I zoned it in on Leo. I can definitely write another if y’all want more because I’m obsessed with this idea. <3

Warnings: Some language…

Word Count: 1.9k

“Okay, guys, don’t crowd her. I’m sure she’s gonna be disoriented, and-”

“Donnie, is the angel alright? It must have hurt, falling from heaven.”

“Get outta the way, Mikey. Go wash the pizza off your hands.”

“Could we give her some room, please?”

The voices echoed around in your head, which was pounding painfully. You opened your eyes and everything was blurry. You were just about positive you were hallucinating, because when your vision finally started to come into focus, you were surrounded by four very tall, very familiar mutant turtles.

“No fucking way…” you murmured, looking up at each of them. They were even more detailed and lifelike than they were in the movies. Which was to say, very lifelike.

“Not the reaction I expected, but I’ll take it.” Mikey smiled, shifting to present himself to you. “The name’s Michelangelo, but the ladies call me—”

“Mikey, yeah, I know.” You cut him off and he gaped at you, his blue eyes wide.

“Are ya psychic or something?” Raph asked. You stared at him for a long second. His muscles were impossibly large, his eyes just as green as you thought they’d be.

“N-No, not exactly. I…well, I’m pretty sure I’m from an alternate universe. Or something.” You looked at Donnie, who was furiously taking notes and way taller than you expected him to be, and then to Leo, whose arms were crossed, his clear blue eyes analyzing everything you said. “Because where I come from, you guys are fictional.”

“Woah. I did not expect that.” Mikey said, looking at Raph for some sort of reaction from his older brother. “Bro, did you—”

“Shut up for like two seconds.” Raph snapped, his attention turning to you. “Can you say that one more time?”

“You guys are fictional. When I was growing up, I watched your cartoons, collected action figures, read your comics…This is unreal.”

“Comic books?” Donnie inquired.

“Cartoons?!” Mikey’s eyes widened.

You nodded.

“So…you know everything about us?” Leo asked, a twinkle of amusement working its way into his icy gaze. He wasn’t quite convinced yet, but he had to admit you were convincing at the very least.

“I mean, not really. Kind of. Maybe?” You shrugged. “I know you have a bonsai in your room.”

You didn’t think it was possible for them to blush, but after that comment, Leo proved you wrong, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just about everything then, yeah.”

“So what happened, Donnie? Why am I here?”

Donnie straightened up when you addressed him by name. “Uh, well, I was trying to figure that out, actually. We were out on patrol and there was a bright flash in the sky and you fell from it.”

“Leo caught you even though I called dibs.” Mikey pouted.

“You saved my life.” You gasped and looked up at Leo. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t just let you fall, ma’am.”

“(Y/N).” You introduced. “My name is (Y/N).”

“Well, (Y/N), I hope ya like the smell of sewer.” Raph chuckled. “If not, you’ll get used to it.”

***

The turtles spent the rest of the day asking you lots of questions about your world and the representations of them that were in it. You told them that the universe they were in was closest to a series of movies by Michael Bay, which, Raph and Mikey found exciting given their love of the Transformers movies.

Leo didn’t say much, but he was always in the room, listening. When night came, Donnie was the first to leave the room, retreating to work in his lab. Then Leo went to his room to sharpen his swords and water his bonsai. Raph went to sleep next, and Mikey stayed up the latest, playing Mariokart with you until pretty close to dawn. You’d almost forgotten that the boys usually slept during the day.

When you were out alone in the living room, Leo came into the room, holding a large knitted blanket and a pillow, a tentative look on his face.

“Hey.” He approached you quietly. “I figured you’d need these. It gets kind of cold down here.”

“Thanks, Leo.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “I really appreciate you guys letting me crash here.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least we could do.” He shook the blanket out and draped it over your legs. “If you need anything, my room is over there.” He pointed back towards where he’d come from.

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I’m sure Donnie will figure this all out soon enough and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay for as long as that takes.” Leo smiled and then added, “Good night.”

“Night!”

Once he was gone, you laid down on the couch and stared up into the darkness for a little while, thinking about the events of the day. You were stranded in the Bayverse. And…well, actually, you weren’t all that upset about it.

***

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you half expected it to all have been a dream. I mean, that was the only logical explanation, right? Well, then you took a look around at your surroundings and realized that it was three in the afternoon and you were in the lair instead of your bedroom.

Once you stretched and got your bearings, you got up and walked to the kitchen, where Splinter was pouring tea from a teapot.

“And you must be the girl who fell from the sky.”

You had to stop and admire him for a second. Master Splinter, the boys’ dad, a wealth of endless support and wisdom. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t looked up to him when you were young. Hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look up to him now when you needed advice.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” You were shaking. “I’m not sure if the boys told you where I’m from…”

“They have, yes.” He nodded. “Donatello told me of the alternate universe you came from.”

“You helped me through so much when I was growing up. You all did. It’s really surreal being here.”

Splinter smiled and stroked his beard, that wise twinkle in his eyes. “I’m glad you found your way to us, child. We’ll make your stay here as easy as possible.”

“Thank you.”

“(Y/N), I made eggs.” Leonardo’s voice from behind you scared the hell out of you.

You jumped and turned around, laughing as your racing heart slowed back down to normal.

“Sorry. Do you like eggs?”

“I do, yeah.” You chuckled. “Thank you, Leo.”

“Of course. They’re on the stove.”

“There’s cheese on the counter!!” Mikey added, already sitting at the table. “I saved you a chair over here, angelcakes.”

You had to admit, hearing him say that in person did make your heart flutter a little bit. You put some eggs and toast (with jam, provided by Donatello) on a plate, sprinkled some shredded cheddar on top and settled into the seat Mikey had saved, conveniently located between the youngest brother and the leader in blue.

“So every day, you guys wake up this late?” You asked, still a little bewildered that breakfast was at three in the afternoon.

“That’s just the downside of living in the shadows.” Raph shrugged. “But it ain’t so bad.”

“Right, of course. It’s just different than what I’m used to is all.”

“So what do you do, normally? Like, in your world, I mean.” Donatello asked. He didn’t have his notebook on hand, but you could tell he was taking mental notes.

“Well, I’m a student. I’m in college. I read comics and watch movies, and sometimes I write in my free time.”

“Comics about us?” Mikey raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.

Your cheeks burned red and you laughed. “Maaaaaaybe.”

Leo let out a little sigh and shook his head. “That’s still so weird to me.”

“Let me tell you, that’s a two way street.” You chuckled. Even thinking about it was still almost too weird to comprehend. You pulled out your phone, which still worked, fortunately, and went through your photos, scrolling all the way back to Halloween. You held it up to show them. “My roommates and I were you guys for Halloween.”

“And you were Leader Boy, huh?” Raph pointed out. “Noted.”

“I mean, yeah.” You didn’t think your face could get any more red.

“Wait, Leo’s your favorite?” Mikey pouted. “Aww…”

“I don’t think it’s fair to pick favorites. I like all of you guys for different reasons.”

“It’s alright if you admit you had a crush on Leo.” Raph whispered, cupping a hand around his mouth.

“Alright, alright, enough of that. She’s our guest. We’re not gonna grill her. She just got here.” Leo stepped in, a faint blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t get the picture of you in a blue mask with little foam katanas out of his head.

“Right, there’s a two week minimum before we get to grill her.” Donnie added, grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Aww, how considerate.” You laughed.

The rest of breakfast was pretty uneventful. You finished eating and then went out to the living room and settled onto the couch. Luckily, your backpack had made the trip over with you, so you had your laptop and some of your homework. Not that you could get online and get in touch with people from your universe, but at least you could get some writing done if you wanted to.

Leo wandered out, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, a soft look in his eyes. He hovered behind you for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Hey.”

Unaware that he had been there, you jumped. “Jesus! You guys are quiet, holy fuck.”

“Sorry about that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the opposite end of the couch, giving you space, but still sitting close enough to make your heart flutter the teeniest bit. “And, uh, I’m sorry about them earlier. Raph specifically. I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable or—”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” you said. “But thank you for checking. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” He was quiet for a few moments before he asked. “Do you believe in fate?”

“Until yesterday, I’m not sure I did. But there’s gotta be something like that out there for me to end up here of all places.”

“For the record, I’m glad you ended up here, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. His blue, blue eyes met yours. “Is it selfish if I say I wouldn’t mind if you stuck around for a while?”

“Is it selfish if I agree?” You replied, causing him to laugh.

“Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Me too.” You smiled and just spent a few long moments admiring him. The movies truly didn’t do him justice. Honestly, it was the truth: you wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. For a long while…

Part 2

[fakecrfan]

Since you very nicely offered to write me a fic:

Your prompt is: A story about a background character or characters dealing with life after the TMA apocalypse.

It can be set in the OG TMA universe in the post-post-apocalypse, or it can also be set in a different universe that was affected by the events of MAG 200.

Both OCs and characters established in-show are allowed.

This one aligned so well with my interests that I am actually tempted to open my inbox, briefly, in case anyone else has questions like “what is X bavjground character doing after the apocalypse?” so I can make a series out of it and expand on my post-post-apocalypse headcanons.

For now, you can read your fic here, on over here on AO3

---

Sarah doesn't know where she is.

England, she has to still be in England, she thinks. But it's not an England she recognizes. Not the cobblestone streets of London, and not the moors she used to visit on her vacations. The ground is barren, as though all blades of grass but a few have shriveled up and died. There are no trees, houses, or landmarks for miles--just scorched remnants of where they might have been before.

For a moment, the emptiness of it all is a relief after the hotel. But everything is the same on all sides, and she doesn't know where she is or where to go. She's starting to get hungry, too. She never got hungry in the hotel, nightmarish as it was.

She has to sit down for a moment, take a few deep breaths, and think.

Get food. Find shelter. Survive.

Find Alex.

(God, why had she left her child in a hotel room? Little twelve year old Alex who was still afraid to sleep without a night light. He'd begged her to stay, she should have--)

With that in mind she gets up. Doesn't know what direction to walk in, so she doesn't concern herself with trying to pick one. There's nothing to do but walk, keep her eyes open, and hope.

So she hopes.

---

None of our old maps match the landscape, anymore.

The world these days it's... not like in the before times, as I suppose we're calling it. Despite our hopes, ending the apocalypse wasn’t like everyone waking up from a nightmare. The land is...

It's scrambled, I guess. There are patches of the world that--well. They're not the same, but still have infrastructure intact. Electricity, running water, air conditioning. No scorched earth or rubble in these areas. Just a bunch of traumatized people living in an intact town, or city.

When I talk to them, they tell me it's not the city they remember, though. Everything has been switched around, houses and stores not where they remember them. Their neighbors aren't the neighbors their remember.

Those are the lucky ones. And then there's, well... the outside.

Some places have rubble everywhere, jagged steel ripped apart and waiting for someone to cut themselves on it. Some are frozen over, still waiting for the ice they were frozen over with in the apocalypse to melt. Some are scorched to dust. No phones out there, or anything that lets you connect back with home base.

I'm going out there. We need to map it out. We need to figure out our new world, understand it--and we need to get as many people out of the wastes as possible.

Melanie, Georgie--I’ll see you soon.

---

Sarah does find water. That's something. She's hungry still, so hungry, but she knows that the water is more important.

She wonders if she should stay there. She doesn't know if there will be more watering holes in the future, after all, and she has no way to carry it with her. She decides to keep moving on, and hope for the best.

She starts to see blades of grass poking up, along with some sort of metal crap strewn about the landscape. She looks at them a moment--it seems to be bits of an old carousel? Eventually, a giant sit in their shade, for a while. There she takes a moment to look at the horizon, and goes cold.

She recognizes the tower on the horizon.

A  scaffolded tower with two legs beneath it. A sight she'd last seen on a postcard from her brother. The Eiffel Tower.

Is she in Paris? No, that can't be it. It's just the tower out here in the wastes. There are none of the buildings that would normally surround it. It's almost as though its been ripped out of the city and transported here.

Does Paris even exist anymore? Does London?

If she even finds Alex, will there be a home for them to go back to?

---

I have a theory, Melanie. I think lots of people got transported to different places in the world based on what fear they belonged to. Like, a bunch of lonely people were put in the same place, a bunch of claustrophobic people were put in the same place, and so on. All away from the people they knew.

I’m in one of the suburban safe areas now. No one here knows each other. I talked to them all, and all of them remember living in the same house before, but none of them recognized the houses near them or the people in them. When I went from house to house, everyone had a different native language. I talked to a German guy and a French guy who spoke English, but a lot of them… couldn’t talk to me at all.

There was a woman who--she saw me and she lit up. She grabbed me and started talking a mile a minute in Arabic, I think. But I couldn’t understand her, and she--when I tried to talk back to her in English, her face just. Fell. And then she started to cry.

My dad refused to speak it at home, you know. He-- Actually, never mind. It’s not important. 

She ended up shoving me away.

---

Sarah makes it to the ruins of a forest. 

There’s nothing but stumps left of it, along with litter everywhere. She finds water again, filthy brackish water, and she drinks it anyway because she’s so thirsty. She starts sifting through all of the garbage strewn about for something edible. She finds stale bread crusts crawling with ant and eats them anyway. 

She finds a can of beans, and almost cries. When she can’t find a can opener, she screams instead.

---

The death count has gotten to me, honestly.

I’ve found dead bodies even in the towns and cities. Some looked like heart attacks. Some suicides. People who woke up but couldn’t bear the agony they’d just gone through. That’s still not… the worst of it.

I passed a whole field of dead bodies today.

Hundreds of people, I think, all of them lying dead in the soil. But there were... trails. They had been walking, before they collapsed. All walking in the same direction, to where you can still see London on the horizon.

They were alive. They were trying to get help. And they just... starved, it looks like. The walk was just too long.

How many people are going to die from it all, Melanie? How many already have, out where we can't see them?

I left as many jugs of clean water and rations along the roads as I could. I put up signs pointing to London, saying how many miles out they were, where I had stashed food. I gave them your number, so they know who to call to get to the shelter.

I hope it means the next group that passes by won't die.

I hope there is a next group.

---

Sarah can see what looks like a city in the distance before she collapses. 

She tries to get up, but can’t. She’s been walking for days now, it feels like, only sporadically drinking and almost never eating.  There just isn’t enough energy left in her to stand.

She tries to think about little Alex again, running around in his Batman cape, hoping some kind of love or maternal instinct will kick in and give her the last burst of adrenaline she needs to get up. It doesn’t work. Maybe she doesn’t love her own son anymore, really. Maybe it’s just been fear and guilt driving her this far, and that source has already been wrung dry. 

She manages to crawl a few feet, before she can’t even do that. With nothing else left to do, she starts to cry out. “Help! Water, please!” 

She doesn’t think anyone will hear, or show up. But against all odds, in her dimming vision she sees a figure come into view. Backpacked, clutching a water bottle. 

“Help,” she croaks out again. 

The figure gets closer, and she starts to be able to make out the details of his face. He’s her age, or older, with worry lines carved into his forehead and wide eyes. His nose looks eerily like her brother’s nose, and the shape of his jaw reminds her of her old boyfriend, the one who left her with--

She blinks. Maybe she’s hallucinating, or maybe she’s somehow run into a long lost cousin. But then, the man’s eye’s widen and his mouth opens.

“Mum?”

No, no it can’t…

“A-alex?”

No, Alex was a little round cheeked boy. This is a thirty year old man, at least, taller than her. It hasn’t been that long. It can’t be, it’s not--

“Mum?” He’s doing a frown that looks so, so familiar. This has to be a dream. “Mum, it’s--no.”

He sniffles. He steps forward, and steps back. He paces, uncertain.

“No, no,” she hears him mutter. “It’s all fake, all fake. It’s a trap. That’s what they want, the monsters and the face stealers. No one is real. Don’t give them what they want--’’

“Please.” she begs. 

But she hears him walk away, sniffling, and shortly thereafter everything goes dark. 

---

I have a confession to make, Melanie. I was going to side with Jon, back then. I could have lived with keeping everyone here suffering to prevent more of it. But when he said he was going to kill the whole world, not just leave it--that’s what made me snap. 

I couldn’t let the whole world die. Genocide of the entire human species? Anything but that. Surely passing along the suffering would be better, as long as it didn’t lead to the extinction of whole worlds. But… 

I keep finding more dead bodies.

I went back to that suburb I talked about, to restock on all my food. It was a lonely domain before, I think. I’d thought everyone there would be fine, you know. They didn’t have any deadly sicknesses, or twisted flesh injuries. They had food and water and shelter. But when I went back… more of them had died. 

Lots of suicides. Some of them snapped, and started to self injure.

The German guy I talked to had started to starve. He had a pantry full of food and he just wouldn’t eat it. I tried to get him to eat, to move in with someone else, but he said talking to people “made him sick.” 

I gave up, and left. I had to. There were too many people, and too much to do, so I left him. He’s probably dead now, or going to die soon. Because he can’t find the will to live, and I don’t know how to help someone with that.

The Lonely is probably one of the least directly harmful entities, right? This domain was just a suburb, probably the most comfortable you could get during the apocalypse. And yet the victims are still all dying. 

How much worse is it in places without food and water? In the corruption domains that still probably have deadly diseases spreading? In war zones, in flesh factories?

I think about that nursing home we found. All of the patients who'd died of heart attacks a few minutes after they'd woken up. The ones left alive screaming for help where no one could hear them, for days after the fact. All of the ones that died in their beds before we found them. 

I think about that field of bodies I found the other day. I think about the ruins of that Circus I found, people refusing to talk to me or each other--refusing to help because they didn’t believe it was over and thought everyone else was a mannequin. 

I think… I think it doesn’t matter that we saved the world. If people can’t find the will to live, ro rebuild, to trust and help each other again… I think we’re going through a mass extinction event anyway. 

---

Sarah’s in a car, she thinks. Not a moving one. She’s propped up against a seat,There’s something plastic pressed to her lips.

“Come on,” says a woman’s deep, level voice. “Come on. I got you. We’re getting to London. All you have to do is drink.”

Sarah opens her eyes. She sees a dark-skinned woman trying to coax her to drink, holding up a water bottle. 

“Just a sip,” the woman says. “Just enough to make it.”

Sarah closes her eyes, and takes a long moment to consider whether she wants to.

[monkey-network]

Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.7

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

Ep. Warnings: Smut, Angsty, Cursing, 18+

Summary: Theres been some trouble in the journey to the competition and so class 1-A has to take a quick stop. Things get steamy for the hot couple but is Y/N regretting her decisions?

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

When you opened your eyes, you took notice of the gorgeous stars that littered across the beautiful night sky. The sky itself was a mix of deep, dark, navy blue with hints of purple and white in the mix, creating a gorgeous scenery. The bus had drove far away from the city and its light pollution, giving you the best views you’ve ever scene. Speaking of views, when you turned away from the window, you saw Katsuki resting peacefully. You smiled softly with a warm glow on your face and cuddled in closer to him.

As the drive continued, you felt the bus jump, create a loud noise, and eventually slowed and stop. You looked around and noticed a few other students waking up, along with Aizawa. When he came back from checking on the front, he spoke to the class.

“Alright you rowdy bastards....WAKE UP!” He shouted into the megaphone that woke up every sleeping student, including Katsuki.

“GAH!” Bakugou screamed as he was awaken from his deep sleep. “Geez, your dad really had to break everybody’s eardrums?”

“Ew Suki, don’t call him that.” You laughed out as you both refocused your attention on Aizawa.

“So. There’s been a change of plans. The bus has broken down and we seem to be in the middle of nowhere so we’re gonna have to camp out for a little while. I just got off the phone with the competition advisors and they said they’ll postpone the event until we arrive. So everybody just get comfortable, we’re gonna be here for awhile. For now, can I get Y/N and Rumor up front.” He explained and demanded.

You got up from your seat and whistled for Rumor to follow. You made it up to the front to see him and asked him what he wanted.

“Yes?” You asked with your arms crossed and a tired look on your face.

“Take Rumor and scope the surrounding areas. Look for a place where we can stay and if you can’t find anything, just come back here. We’ll just camp out on the bus until we get some work done to the bus. I’ll call a repair company and see if they can send someone to help us with the bus. Be back here in 20 minutes MAX. Got it?” He said.

You only nodded as you went back to your seat to grab the earring to explain what was happening to the league. When you got there Bakugou asked what happened and demanded to go with you but you reassured him you’d be fine and then kissed him before walking off the bus. Bakugou, still uneasy about the whole thing, went up to Aizawa.

“Hey! Let me at least go with her just in case!” He demanded. Aizawa only rolled his eyes as the blonde before he spoke.

“Bakugou, Y/N is a very capable girl. If she runs into any trouble, she can handle it and if I was that trouble, I’d be the one running away from Y/N. And she has Rumor who can also fight and transform into any animal, mythical or real. They’ll be fine.” He explained.

“Yeah but-“

“Bakugou. I’m sure Y/N has told you about her past already, and so you know that her and Rumor have done pretty well on survival. They’ll be okay. Not get back to your seat.”

“But-“

“Now!”

Bakugou huffed as he reluctantly went back and slouched in his chair. Back with Y/N, she was riding on Rumor in his giant hawk form as they flew around. While in the air, she told the league what happened and said when she arrives at the competition, she’ll send her coordinates and then they can arrive.

As Y/N flown around, after about 15 minutes she found a motel not too far from the bus. She had Rumor turn around and make it back to the bus. When she arrived she noticed the students had all exited the bus and settled around a camp fire they set up nearby. She landed and the class all got excited at the cool sight of Rumor in a different form. Bakugou quickly ran to Y/N and hugged her after he had been worrying for so long.

“You okay? Are you hurt?!” He asked while checking you for any bruising or damaging.

“Suki, I’m fine don’t worry! I’m great actually. Aizawa!” You called out, grabbing your dad’s attention. “Found a motel. Right off of west end. Rumor can bring all of us in about 2 trips on his flying bison form.”

“Great. Then let’s go.” He replied. You laughed as you heard the boys of the Bakusquad get rowdy and excited at the news of another bison ride. The Bakusquad and dekusquad along with Momo and Jirou rode first. You made it there and had Rumor fly back to get the rest of the people including Aizawa and the bus driver.

When you made it back, Aizawa had gone to book everyone’s rooms and you and Bakugou hung out in the corner of the lobby away from everyone.

As you leaned against a wall waiting for the room keys, you took notice of how Bakugou was just smiling with his eyes closed and his hands behind his head as he sat in a lobby chair.

“What’s up with you smiley?” You laughed out as you sat on his lap. He chuckled as he finally opened his eyes to look at you.

“You telling me you don’t remember?” He questioned. You thought about it for a little bit but ultimately came to no answer.

“Remember what suki?” You asked, and Bakugou sat up straight with his hand wrapping around your waist as he got in your face.

“You promised me the next time we get in a bed, you would let me have my way with you. And would you look at that. We’re in a motel, where there are beds, and we all have our own rooms with at least 1 partner.” He explained happily.

“Aha, nice try Suki, but Aizawa definitely wouldn’t let me sleep in a room with a guy let alone someone who is my boyfriend. I’m gonna get paired up with...I think Jirou.” You said with a confident smile.

“Right, and I’m getting paired up with Denki and won’t you look at that, Denki and Jirou are dating! I’m pretty sure Ears wouldn’t mind switching with me so I could spend time with my girlfriend while she gets to hang with her own boyfriend.” He smirked. You realized he was right and your smile dropped as you quickly got up from his lap.

“Nervous? I thought I was the virgin.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment. You weren’t nervous to have sex......you were nervous because this time it was with a guy you love...and that guy was Katsuki Bakugou. He radiates big dick energy.

“Um..no,” you pouted with side eye.

“You hesitated,” he smiled.

“NO I DIDNT!” Bakugou just chuckled at your cute behaviour before he stood up and pecked your cheek.

“Don’t worry princess. I’ll treat you real good. Promise,” he whispered in your ear. The sound of his husky voice went right in between your legs and you could already feel yourself growing wet and becoming a puddle right underneath him. Except you weren’t even underneath him and he didn’t even touch you. The power he holds is....stupid. But, you finally snapped outta your little bitch phase and played his game.

“Fine then,” you said and proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “better not disappoint...daddy.” You playfully said and walked away with a smirk leaving Bakugou with an open and shocked smile as he watched you go.

Aizawa called everyone over to grab their keys.

“Alright. Boys and Girls will not share any rooms and the opposite gender is not allowed in the other’s room after 10 o’clock,” Aizawa began to call out names and finally got to the end. “Y/N and Jirou, and Bakugou and Kaminari.”

Bakugou looked at Kaminari with devil eyes and growled at him as he tilted his head towards Jirou. Kaminari shook in his place and quickly ran to his girlfriend.

“H-Hey babe! Wanna trade with Bakugou so we can share a room together?” Jirou looked at her terrified boyfriend with a raised brow in confusion.

“Are you okay Denk-“

“PLEASE! PLEASE TRADE WITH THAT DEMON!” Kaminari begged. Jirou and Y/N looked towards Bakugou and then towards Aizawa.

“Okay Jirou, since he’s this scared of Katsuki, I’ll stay with him and you can stay with Denki. Don’t worry about Aizawa, everything will be fine.” Y/N said.

“You sure?” Jirou questioned.

“Mhm! Besides, what kinda girl wouldn’t wanna spend more time with her boyfriend?” You said rhetorically and walked away to Katsuki. “Let’s go, Love.”

“Yes M’am.” Bakugou said as he followed you while looking around to make sure no one noticed. You both walked but remained silent. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more like you both were too excited for what was to come. When you and Bakugou finally arrived at your room, you put the key in as Bakugou continued to be on lookout. When you opened the door, Bakugou pushed you in and shut the door and locked it.

He pulled you in before you could turn around and gave you a hot kiss. His hands roamed your body until they eventually reached your ass to give it a firm squeeze and nice smack. You gasped at the feeling and Bakugou quickly slid his tongue in. Your tongues glided across each other as you tugged at Bakugou’s hair. You swear, if you didn’t know him and this was just a one-night, you would think he’s already had experience. Bakugou separated from your lips the slightest bit just to tell you to “jump.”

You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to the bed and placed you down. He continued the kiss and unbuttoned your school top and removed your tie. You did the same to him as he groped your chest, massaging the plump flesh through your lace bra. He pulled off your skirt and then discarded his own pants and went to kiss your neck.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue as he sucked on patch after patch leaving purple marks that would definitely show in the morning. While on your neck he removed your bra and panties and his hands quickly went to feel your exposed body. He backed away to stare at the sight of you. He bit his lip as he took notice of your breast and naked body.

“Perfect,” he whispered to himself as he stared and touched. You giggled at his compliment and pulled him in for a few pecks before flipping him over and straddling his lap as he sat up. “Yes Princess?”

“I promised you a good first time. Let me keep my word, Suki.” You smiled at him as he did the same to you.

“Fine then. Show me a good time.” He smirked at you and tilted his head back on the headboard. You smirked and pulled down his boxers to reveal his giant length. It stood erect with an angry red tip that was begging to be satisfied. You stared at it in awe. You already knew he was big..but this size was ridiculous. Not only had he had a long length, he was thick too. Extremely girthy. Bakugou smirked as he realized you were too distracted with his size that you didn’t continue anything.

“Hey Princess, you gonna stare or suck?” He asked with a grin. You gave him a little “hmph,” as your hand went right to his tip, using your thumb to rub around his slit. He groaned and sighed at the feeling of your tiny hands on him as you noticed his little blush adorn his face.

“You doing okay Katsuki?” You asked with sass as you pumped his cock, causing him to loudly gasp at the change of speed and pleasure.

“F-Fuck...this is nothing Princess,” he seethed out. You tilted your head and smirked as you went down to kiss his tip. You kissed his length up and down as you felt him shake at the feeling. Once you reached the bottom, you licked his shaft up to the top causing him to moan. You finally took his tip in your mouth and swirled your tongue around him. You swallowed his pre-cum and finally went down on him, taking as much you could.

“O-Oh fuck! Shit..shit baby,” he said as his hand went to your head and he threw his head back. You bobbed your head up and down and gagged on his dick, making music that was perfect to Bakugou. You used your hand to pump whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth and soon felt Bakugou thrusting his hips up the slightest bit. You moaned as his dick sat in your throat causing vibrations to consume his entire length.

“Fuck-fuck!” Bakugou said and his hand on your head moved you up and down, controlling the speed of your movements. You moaned louder as tear puddles began to fill your eyes. Your hands, no longer needed to pump the rest of his cock, went to fondle his balls as he groaned louder.

“Shit...suck my dick just like that Princess. Mm..you want me to blow my load right down your throat! Wanna taste my cum?” He teased. You moaned even more in agreement as you took control again and began to speed up even more.

“Ohh! God! I’m close! I’m so close baby...mm I’m gonna cum down your throat! OH FUCK! I’m gonna cum!” Bakugou screamed out and soon you felt his warm seed shoot down your throat. You tasted his cum all over your tongue and savored the salty-sweet flavor. “You like that? Mm, you like the way daddy taste on your tongue?”

You pulled of him as he quickly went to pump his own cock to bring it back to life.

“Open,” he demanded and noticed all the cum sitting in your mouth. He smirked at the sight and then spoke, “swallow it.”

You smirked as you shut your mouth and swallowed it all. You opened your mouth to show him it was all gone and he smiled as he bit his lip.

“Happy?” You asked while getting close to his face.

“Very.” He smirked as you both went in for another kiss. You straddled him once more and he aligned himself up with your entrance. You felt his tip slide across your cunt and you moaned in his mouth.

“Excited?” Bakugou said with a grin.

“Please Katsuki, please just fuck me!” You breathed out. He smiled against your lips as he slammed you down on his cock.

“FUCK!” You cried out with your head thrown back as Bakugou admired the sight. You weren’t even prepped so you were tighter than ever as your pussy swallowed him whole. You bounced on his cock as you cried and moaned. He grabbed a hold of your ass as he smacked it from time to time.

“Shit baby...yeah bounce on that cock. You like it? Like having a giant dick deep inside your pretty little pussy?” He said with a deep voice.

“Yess Suki. Mm, fuck me just like that!” You cried out. Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his feet flat on the bed as he lifted you up and down while he thrusted his hips up into you. The speed and strength of his thrust threw you into a haze.

“Oh my goddd! Yes Katsuki! Y-yes! So big..f-fuck!” Your hands went around his neck so you could support yourself as Katsuki’s thrusts never stopped. “Oh fuck daddy I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah? Gonna cum? Spill it on my cock so daddy can fill you up!” He demanded.

“Yes! Yes! Yessss! Shit! Katsuki..Katsuki! Don’t stop! YES!” You screamed as you came and spilled it all over his cock. Katsuki didn’t stop though. He continued till he came and he came hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...ARGH!!” Katsuki shouted as he spilled his load deep inside you. He moaned out as his warm cum filled up your womb. He fucked himself through both your orgasms and he finally slowed down. You were still sitting on his dick as a mix of both your releases spilled out of you and onto the bed. You both settled as you both came down from your highs, however you both didn’t separate. Katsuki still released groans and broken sighs as he relished in the feeling of his first time.

You were exhausted but you wanted to take control. You weren’t the virgin, but Katsuki made you look like the newbie. You had to be the last one standing. As Katsuki laid against the head board still moaning softly, you placed your hands on his shoulders and began to bounce again.

Katsuki’s head snapped up as he realized what you were doing and he already came twice. This was his first time and if you kept going, he would feel his third high approaching soon.

“N-No! No baby! P-lease! Please it’s too much! AH FUCK! Ohh god! S’too sensitive,” he cried out as he sobbed in overstimulation. He felt euphoric but it was too much for his first time.

“Oh c’mon daddy, you got this. I want you to fill my pussy one more time. Please?” You said with a sweet seductive voice. Bakugou looked at you with pleading eyes as they filled with little tears due to the immense pleasure.

“I- I can’t princess! Fuck it’s too much!” He argued. You only smirked and encouraged him to pull through as you continued your bouncing. Bakugou continued to blab out moans and cried as his mouth hung open. He let out sobs of euphoria as he shook. You went in to kiss him and this time your tongue dominated as Katsuki became a total sub beneath you. Bakugou moaned into the kiss sharply before he pulled away.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum! Babyy! ....Fuck!” He cried out.

“Cum inside me Katsuki, fill me up please,” you begged. You bounced harder until Katsuki’s body stilled as his cum filled you up just like you asked.

“Fuuuuucckkk, shit....hah....mmm,” he moaned as he finished. Your legs shook from the feeling as you both were now officially done with Katsuki’s first time. After a minute to catch your breaths, you pulled off his cock and cuddled into Katsuki as he weakly wrapped his arms around you. You both were still breathing heavily but you had smiles on your faces as your minds were in a daze. A fuzzy aura surrounded you both as you finally settled. Katsuki pecked your forehead before he spoke.

“That was amazing.” He sighed out with closed, satisfied eyes. You giggled at his reaction as you smiled at him.

“Definitely.” He smiled down at you as he covered you both in the blanket and tucked you guys in. He planned on getting some rest and you went to follow as he hugged you close. You rested on his chest and you both relaxed in silence. Soon enough, you noticed Katsuki had fallen asleep and you smiled as you messed with his soft hair. You looked at the time and saw it was 11:47. Soon would be time for the competition.

You frowned and your eyes went wide. You just took Katsuki’s virginity. And tomorrow, you would be the reason the league would attack his school, his friends, his idols and teachers, and other schools. You sat up from his chest and you covered your mouth with both hands to hide your sobs. Katsuki remained asleep after he exhausted his energy, and didn’t wake up. You were thankful for that but tears fell as you dropped your head down and cried.

How could you do this to him? He loved you. He wanted you to be his first. He put his all in you and you’re paying him back like this! Granted, you loved him too, but you would have to break his heart in the end.

“I’m so sorry....I’m so sorry Katsuki.” You said and fell to his chest, silently crying. Katsuki still didn’t wake up, too deep in his sleep to be aware of anything. He couldn’t hear your quiet sobs or feel your hot tears as they fell on his sculpted chest. That night, you cried yourself to sleep again. Out of all the things you could’ve done, this was the worst. Your tear stained cheeks rested against Katsuki’s chest as you drifted off into slumber, fearful and anxious of the upcoming events.

“I’m sorry...”

——————————————————————————

You both woke up that morning, one completely engulfed in blissful happiness and one filled up with an anxious feeling. Bakugou smiled as he looked down at you, completely nude and covered in his markings. He could definitely get used to that feeling of pride he felt when he saw you adorned in...well, him.

After a few minutes of cuddling, you both decided it was time to get ready. You both took a shower together and you tried to laugh as much as you could, but you couldn’t help but let a few moments of fear and sadness slip out. As you got dressed and made your way to the lobby to meet with everyone again, Bakugou took notice of your behavior.

“Princess? You feeling okay?” He asked. You looked at him with worried eyes but your mouth covered it up.

“Mhm! I’m okay, Suki. Don’t worry.” You said. Bakugou didn’t believe it and even though he didn’t know what it was, his mind thought the worst and thought I had something to do with him.

“Umm..was it me? Do you...regret what happened last night?” He asked. You looked up at him in shock and you started to realizing a pattern. Bakugou always thought it was his fault whenever you were upset, and that just made your heart ache.

“Suki, you never upset me at all. I don’t regret anything with you, especially not last night. It was the best night of my life and being with you is the best decision I’ve ever made. Stop blaming yourself, okay hero?” You reassured him. He smiled at your words and appreciated them, but he knew you were still upset about something and weren’t telling him.

“If you’re upset about something, you can talk to me...okay?” He offered.

“I know. That you for that.” You said. He pulled you in for a comforting hug and you sighed in relief as you welcomed his touch. You hugged him back much tighter than usual.

“I love you,” he whispered softly in your ear as he held you. Your eyes almost filled with tears but you fought them.

“I love you more.”

—

Back on the bus, the people of UA continued their journey to the competition. Each second inched you closer and closer to what could possibly be the end of the UA you’ve come to love. Somebody, something, is going to encounter something bad. They’ll either go missing...or worse. And it’ll be your fault. You thought about the friends you’ve made, the new father you’ve acquired, and the amazing relationship with Bakugou that you’ve been blessed with. Everything’s about to change.

[serpentinesarang]

falling for you

pairing: baekhyun (byun baekhyun) x fem reader | part 2

genre: non-idol!au, angel!baekhyun, fluff, slow burn, split-perspective, first- and second-person writing styles, LOTS of plot buildup and dialogue, mild smut mixed in, part of a series

word count: 3831

content warnings: alcohol, swearing, theme of angels, virgin reader, strong theme of voyeurism, reader has gender-neutral best friend, vibrator masturbation

summary: baekhyun, your guardian angel watching over since the day you were conceived, has fallen in love with you and can’t bear to just watch you anymore. he needs so much more.

a/n: partly inspired by the teen romance-fantasy series hush, hush by becca fitzpatrick. #17 on my prompt list ♡

korean key:

⦿ none this time

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

You

It’s your 21st birthday, and a beautiful, late-spring day awaits you. You turn off your alarm, roll out of bed, and drag yourself to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. 

Once you flick on the vanity lights above the sink, you stop in your tracks. You know what... today’s my big day. I’m gonna do shit MY way today, you think while eyeing yourself in the mirror.

You exit the bathroom for a moment and retrieve the unopened bottle of Fireball [American cinnamon whiskey] atop your dresser. Your dad had sent you the bottle along with your favorite brand of chocolate and a sweet card, and you’d accidentally received the package one day early (oh well!). Unscrewing the cap, you take a hearty gulp and wince at the delicious burning sensation in your chest.

“Fuck yeah,” you grumble aloud as you replace the bottle and amble back to the bathroom.

You turn the knobs of your glass-encased shower and strip off your pajamas while the water heats up.

Baekhyun

Good gracious. I will never tire of her waking up and taking morning showers. She looks the most ethereal after she sleeps and the most serene with water cascading down every bit of her curvaceous body. The way her nipples grow erect from the pressure of the water and the occasional chills when she reaches out to change the background music playing... her hair slicked back, drawing all my attention to her stunning face... 

My darling human has at last become what they call an adult. She is now able to legally enjoy spirits and be merry with friends. 

I remember the moment she was conceived and I was assigned as her guardian. I made sure her mother was never in harm’s way during her pregnancy with my darling, and ever since then, she has been my reason for existence. No other human soul before her had ever latched itself so deeply into my being, and I can’t stand the distance anymore.

I sit on her long bathroom counter with my wings comforting my back against the wall and my legs hitched upward, just watching her wake up to another day. The glass walls of the shower have fogged up, but I can easily discern her silhouette swaying side-to-side with the music. She seems to be in an unusually happy mood today, and I plan to make her even happier tonight.

You

You step out and dry yourself off, twisting your hair into a towel turban. You tiptoe in front of the mirror and wipe off the condensation with your forearm. Just then, your cell phone on the counter launches into a FaceTime call, the screen showing your best friend’s name.

Accepting the call audio-only, you greet them cheerily, “Good morning, sexy bitch!”

They chuckle. “Show me your face, coward! I wanna see what my 21-year-old best friend looks like on her birthday!”

You dramatically sigh and oblige your friend, keeping your phone facing the ceiling as you tap your camera on. You tower over the screen at a comical angle that only shows your towel-wrapped head and exposed neck. “Here she is!”

“A knockout as always. I hope you know that,” they reply.

Smiling, you ask, “What’s up?”

“We still good to go out to Fire & Ice tonight? I’m not gonna let you leave until you’re so sloshed that I have to carry you out!”

You laugh at your friend’s excitement. “Yes, I took the whole weekend off, so let the debauchery begin, my friend.”

You talk about your club plans a little more before your friend goes on a long diatribe about their evil stepmother—not really fresh territory at this point. So you carry your phone around while you dress in jeans and a college t-shirt, eventually returning to the bathroom for a quick round of makeup.

Your bestie is still regaling you with their convoluted family drama when you feel yourself zoning out into the mirror. It’s as if all other noises around you have slowly faded away, and the only thing you hear is a voice, seemingly right next to you, whispering with a velvety softness, “You’re beautiful as you are.”

Mesmerized by the voice, you unconsciously sigh out of deep contentedness, and your friend asks if you’re still keeping up. You assure them all is well, except for the fact that you’ve been hearing a comforting voice for the past three years now.

A voice you obey by only putting on mascara.

Baekhyun

I’ve been speaking to her since she turned 18. I always wanted her to know she’s never truly alone, but the problem with my method is that she never fully processes me. She’s always so captivated when I speak to her that it never occurs to her something extraordinary—someone extraordinary—is connecting with her, guiding her, encouraging her. And it doesn’t help that I can’t read her thoughts or impede her free will by planting thoughts. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the wide-looked look of bliss that overcomes her every time she hears me.

She goes about her morning as she usually does on the weekends: sitting on her balcony with a plate of toast, a cup of coffee, and whichever book she borrowed from the public library. This time, it’s Dante’s Divine Comedy. 

I love the irony.

You

Two hours of reading pass before you grow restless and retreat back to your room. Flopping in bed, you let your mind wander. You’ve been single for as long as you can remember, and you’ve taken a liking to the clearly male voice you hear every once in a while. If you’re honest with yourself, you’re scared deep down of the reality of such a circumstance, but because the voice has always cared about you, what’s the harm in believing in it?

Remember, you tell yourself, it’s all about you today.

Without any more hesitation, you yank open the drawer of your nightstand and pull out a black wand vibrator. You may be a virgin, but you’re not an idiot who doesn’t know what pleasure is.

Wiggling out of your panties and jeans, you throw them to the floor and spread your legs across the mattress as comfortably as possible.

“Come back to me,” you whisper almost inaudibly.

Baekhyun

Absolutely nothing else on this planet makes me happier than watching my darling pleasure herself. She obtained that vibrating device last year as a gift from her friend, and ever since she discovered this realm of physical pleasure, I’ve fallen harder and faster for her. The salacious things I’ve watched her do to herself, the phenomenal sounds she emits, the positions she lazes into, the glistening of that little slice of heaven on her body... It drives me mad that I have no senses of smell, taste, and touch because I want to experience what she does. And with her.

Today is different. She’s never spoken aloud like that, and the yearning in her voice makes me believe it’s for me.

I rest on my stomach with my chin atop my hands, peering at the slit between her supple legs and how it’s slowly begun to flood as she drags the device up and down, stopping to rub slow circles at the very top. I don’t hear the thing humming, so she must be preparing herself.

She has one arm bent behind her head, her neck angled to watch herself move the device. Her mouth is ajar, and the rising of her chest fascinates me because it falls in tune with the device.

Then she pushes a button, and I hear it buzzing lowly. Not a millisecond later does her breath catch as her hips dig downward, and she closes her eyes. She holds the black thing at the top, over the little mountain of bulbous, pink flesh.

You

Whoever he is, you wish he’d speak to you now as you press the wand against your hardened clit. It’s only set to level one, but you feel your orgasm beginning to build up.

So beautiful like this, you imagine him saying. Keep going. I’m right here, and you’re driving me crazy...

You let out a breathy moan as you activate the wand’s level two vibration intensity, and your thighs shake uncontrollably at the heightened pleasure.

Shake for me, beautiful. Take me to your heaven, your imagination continues. It’s right then, though, that his voice sounds beside your ear for real in a soft tone: Yes, darling, you did it.

After hearing this voice long enough to be able to conjure it in your mind with any array of sinful words, today is the first time it brings you to a time-stopping orgasm.

Baekhyun

Out of nowhere, her hips fly off the bed and surge in random, up and down motions, and I watch the small opening of her slit pulsate in time with her hips as it erupts with a lovely, transluscent essence. I wish I could feel her arousal on my fingertips instead of just watching.

Her voice comes out in broken utterances and ragged moans: “UH-uh-huhhh-ugghhhh... ffffff-UH-uh-uuuck.”

The vibration ceases, and she tosses the device beside her with a heavy exhale, evidently spent. Her legs are still spread, and I can’t help but inch myself closer to observe the way her soaked flesh speaks to me in its language of spontaneous throbbing.

You

The rest of the day passes you by. After you came, you made lunch, went to the gym for a workout, went to the DMV to change your driver’s license, came home and read some more, answered a few work emails, perused social media, ate dinner, and even watched a movie. A typical Saturday for you, nothing particularly special by any means. The real fun would be at 9 PM when your bestie promised to pick you up.

...

You glance at the time on your phone: 8:56 PM. Perfect, a few more minutes to double-check everything.

Phone case on a crossbody chain with your new license and credit card stored inside? Check. House key attached to the chain on a carabiner clip? Check. Hair flat-ironed with minimal frizz and ultimate shine? Check. Makeup? Eh, all you did was pat on some cheekbone highlighter. Check. Outfit? Sleeveless, burgundy top with an open, laced up backside, faux leather miniskirt, and basic black Converse for comfort. Check.

You smile at yourself in the full-body mirror in your apartment’s foyer. “Effortless.”

Yes, the voice agrees.

...

It’s just after 9:15 when you arrive at the Fire & Ice club downtown. The bouncers stamp both of your left hands with purple stars for the bartenders to serve you the goods before you’re pushed along with the crowd further into the expansive club. 

Lights of every color strobe all over with red-tinged string lights on the perimeter of the whole place, and a massive blue-tinged spotlight on the DJ and his setup. The dancefloor in the middle is decently crowded with people around your age, a few 40-something couples sticking out adorably. 

“No chasers for you, missy,” your friend reminds you with glittering eyes and a loving squeeze on your upper arm.

You nod, feeling thrilled to be out on the town for once. You raise your index finger to the ceiling with a victory screech: “To the bar!”

Over an hour later, the overhead lights go out, the DJ’s spotlight turns red, and the entire bar gets lit up from the see-through floor with bright, pale-blue lights. Even though you’re definitely tipsy now, you finally notice the mirrored wall panels surrounding the club, and all the spotlights bouncing off of them combined with the bar’s own futuristic lighting makes you realize how truly fire and ice this place is.

Not surprisingly, your friend had slid into their drunk phase a little faster than you, and they’d disappared somewhere with a girl they’d met at the bar. They’d sent you a text 20 minutes ago reading, “Met a spicy lil thang at the bar. I’ll find u later! Keep ordering!!!”

Were you bothered? Nah, you really weren’t. This has happened a few times before elsewhere, and you were still intent on enjoying this day your way, even if that meant dancing like an idiot by yourself.

Were you wondering where the voice was? Yes. He hadn’t spoken to you since you got picked up.

Gulping down the rest of your Captain and Coke, you return the glass to the bar and catch somebody to order a Vegas Bomb shot. Feeling yourself finally dipping into your drunk mode, you down the shot with ease, not so much as wincing at the burn of the alcohol before heading straight back to the center of the dancefloor where a group of girls had left a pocket for you to slip in.

The DJ blends the ending of the current song with the beginning of a new one, “All That” by Emotional Oranges, and the vibes you get from this one are sensual. You’re in your own world of alcoholic delight, and you’re erotically body-rolling with yourself before you feel a pair of hands gently grasp your waist.

You feel the person press their chest against your shoulders, their breath icy cold beside your ear. “Effortless, my darling.”

Every fiber of your being comes to a screetching halt when you hear it. 

It’s him.  

You spin around—a little too quickly considering your current state—and brace your hands against his chest. He responds by wrapping his arms around your back. 

Looking back at you with big, almost black-colored eyes is a man with platinum blonde hair and ridiculously full lips. He’s wearing a white button-up shirt tucked into black pants, a look more fitting for a business-casual luncheon or something.

But who cares about the clothes when he has a face like that? With the most flawlessly radiant, olive skin and hands so warm on your exposed back that he feels like a personal heater?

You could feel the surrounding people’s presence melting away the longer you gazed at him, the more it dawned on you with a certainty you didn’t dare doubt that this was truly the voice you’d been hearing.

You blurt the words without any more hesitation: “Say ‘beautiful.’”

Unphased, he fulfills your request with a melodic purposefulness in his voice, keeping his eyes trained on yours.

With relief washing over you, you drop your jaw in a loud exhale. “It’s you!” You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, desperate to etch his breathtaking face onto your brain.

“It’s me,” he answers with a sheepish smile, hugging your body tighter against his. He feels as firm as Michelangelo’s David sculpture.

Then you faint in his arms.

Baekhyun

I can’t tell if she fainted from the shock of finally meeting me or from her obvious imbibement. I was actually able to smell it on her warm breath, and if I knew what literally anything on Earth smelled like, I’d be able to describe it. 

I was more beside myself being able to finally touch her, though, to finally exist with her in the same dimension of reality. Her skin felt supremely smooth, and I could practically feel the love beaming from her face.

She knew it was me because she asked me to say beautiful, something I’d spoken to her earlier in the morning. She didn’t want to test me, but she also didn’t want to test her sanity or sobriety. 

I carried her home, glancing down at her with a kind of all-encompassing happiness I’d never felt before as an angel.

You

At last, you rouse from your fainting spell, and the first thing you see is your apartment ceiling. A dull headache is knocking at the back of your head, and thankfully the only light source is the lamp on your nightstand.

You look to your side and are reminded of the night’s events.

“I’m sorryyy,” you murmur, frowning cutely at the platinum-haired man lying beside you with his head propped up in his hand. He moves his free hand from your hip to your jaw, tenderly grasping it and swiping his thumb side to side. 

“Please don’t be,” he replies softly. “I’d do anything for you.”

You look at him for a moment, examining his features. “Do you know my name?”

He grins ear to ear, as if enjoying a private joke. “I think you know I do.”

Although you’d slept off the alcohol, you’re still a little lost. How do you explain meeting the man whose voice you’d heard in your head for three years?

You turn to face him, entwining your lower legs with his under the sheets. He seems almost caught off guard by the touch, but he quickly calms himself.

“I don’t know yours, though. Please help me,” you plead, and he picks up on your subtle allusion to the bigger picture, not just his name.

He sighs quietly, ceasing his thumb strokes and taking your hand in his. “I am—was the angel Baekhyun.” He pauses, gently squeezing your hand as he brings it to his white shirt. “I’ve watched over you for the past 21 years and nine months.” 

He pauses again, letting this sit with you. You take a moment to process before speaking. “Why hadn’t I heard your voice earlier?”

He nods once, taking in a breath. “I didn’t want to scare you in your younger years, nor did I want others to think you’d developed an imaginary friend. And for obvious reasons, you couldn’t see me before I fell.”

Before I fell.

The words run you over like a semi-truck, and Baekhyun sees it on your face. “Yes, darling, I fell to Earth.”

You furrow your brow, caught between confusion and wanting to cry. “Why?” you whisper.

“I broke the law,” he says before kissing your knuckles. “I fell in love with a human.”

You can’t help but stare at him, speechless.

“And I want you to know that every time you ever heard my voice,” he continues, “I was speaking to you and only you when I felt you needed me. Most angels deliberately avoid speaking to their humans and instead conjure some sort of earthly sign for them to stumble across. But I couldn’t do that with you. I watched you become such an incredibly strong, self-sufficient woman that I worried you’d never get anything in return from anyone. I wanted you to know you have never been alone.” 

Tears well in your eyes at Baekhyun’s sincerity, and you struggle to find any words to string together.

He kisses your hand again. “Before this, my only senses were hearing and seeing. I don’t think I can take my hands off you now.”

You burst into a toothy smile. “So that means you’ve watched me do literally everything...”

Baekhyun notices the streak of seduction coloring your eyes. Glancing toward your nightstand quickly, he says under his breath, “That thing drives you wild.”

You smirk, pulling your intertwined hands forward so you can kiss his knuckles this time. “Do you know how wild your voice has driven me? Still?”

“I kind of always suspected it,” he admits with a smirk. “Nevertheless, we are together, and I don’t know how to adequately express how deeply happy I am, much less how happy I want to make you.”

Moving your legs from his, you kick back the sheets. He’d left you both fully clothed, that gentleman. 

“What time is it?” you say as you twist around to check your phone. Your home screen reads just past 3 AM, and there’s even a new text from your bestie: “Glad u found someone!! Text me tomorrow and happy bday again <3″

You turn back to Baekhyun, propping yourself up on your elbow like him. “You texted my friend?”

He nods earnestly. “I’ve seen you do that enough times to understand the courtesy of letting them know.”

You smile in response, deciding to push his shoulder until he’s lying on his back and you’re straddling him. He responds by placing his warm hands on your hips.

You throw your hair to one side before leaning over him with an outstretched arm. “Baekhyun,” you whisper.

“Yes, my darling?” he hums, his eyes eagerly drinking you in.

“I want you.”

His eyes widen enough for you to notice, and he unknowingly digs his fingers into your sides.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says above a whisper.

You lean back and unzip your miniskirt, then you tug at your top’s ribboning to undo it enough for you to pull it off. You take in a deep breath as Baekhyun feverishly assesses you, and your nipples grow hard at his unfettered attention.

“Haven’t you seen this enough?” you ask him softly.

He shakes his head. “Never enough. And now I can feel you, smell you, and taste you.”

You carefully stand above him and brace a hand against the wall as you yank the skirt off, one of his hands tenderly holding your ankle. You straddle him again and sit a little bit lower so you can unbutton his shirt, open his pants and pull out the ends of his shirt.

Spreading the shirt fully open, his chiseled torso knocks the breath out of you. You bring your hands to his abs but hesitate for a second.

“Please keep going,” he begs quietly. 

With his approval, you bring your hands down and gingerly run them over the indentations of his abs and the plains of his defined pecs. You trace your index finger from his chin over his Adam’s apple all the way down to his navel.

“Darling?”

“Yes, Baekhyun?”

“What am I feeling in my pelvis? Is something wrong with me?”

You look down and find his very human, very pink, very swollen erection poking out of his underwear. Taking his questions seriously, you answer him: “You have an erection, a boner. That means you’re turned on.”

“’Turned on?’”

“Aroused, excited, in the mood. This is how human men show it,” you reply, keeping your voice sincere. He deserves the truth as it is, not through jokes and teasing. “You’ll have to learn how to control it in public.”

He quickly infers your hidden meaning, nodding. “I trust you.”

Chuckling at his random admission, you say, “I trust you too. I’d like to help you with being a human as you have helped me.”

He beams at you. “I welcome your guidance wholeheartedly.”

You smile and spend the next minute removing your panties and the rest of his clothing.

Baekhyun, in your eyes, is literally the definition of perfection. Covered in bulging muscles and gleaming skin with an unusual heat that almost radiates off his body, you fell speechless again. 

You’re on all fours above him now, hovering your face above his. “You make a fine human, Baekhyun.”

“Thank you,” he smiles, his hands back on your hips.

“Stop me whenever,” you say firmly. He nods softly, patiently waiting for your move.

[sidespart]

Made-up fic title: Forget-me-not Blue (Have a lovely day!)

Cannonverse Time-Loop,  platonic DLAMP and Demus, Janus centric 

So after Putting Others First ends, Patton suggest Janus come to breakfast with the light sides the next day. It will give them a chance to explain everything that’s happened to Logan and Virgil, and he and Roman can *dad hint* both apologise and make up after they’ve both had some sleep/ time to cool off. 

Jan isn’t so sure it’s going to be that easy to make nice with the others but he’s willing to give it a shot. So he makes a suitably dramatic entrance the next day, appearing in the kitchen whilst the others are setting out breakfast.

It does not go well.

Patton shrieks when he appears, completely surprised. Roman pulls his sword out, Logan scowls and Virgil demands “what the hell do you think you’re doing here Deceit?” Janus looks at Patton expecting him to explain (and kind’ve annoyed he didn’t tell the others he was coming tbh) and Patton looks...scared. And just as confused as everyone else. After standing there in awkward silence for a moment Vigil snaps out something like ‘don’t you think things are already stressful enough with the stupid wedding today without you showing up?”

Which - the stupid wedding today? Janus checks the calendar on the fridge. And then goes back to his room to check his own calendar. It’s April 13th. Again. 

So the first repeat Jan manages to convince himself that he dreamt the first April 13th. He always tries to plan out his various schemes/interactions with people so meticulously- maybe he’s just doing it in his sleep now (it would explain the whole giant frog thing). But he goes through the whole day and it’s identical to his ‘dream’ (including the giant frog thing). And at the end of it he wakes up and its April 13th again.

By loop 3 he decides this is Romans fault. He’s the only one who left the discussion in the original timeline unhappy, and as creativity he’s a pretty powerful side - he cant affect the real world but he could potentially create a fantasy ‘time loop’ scenario in the imagination and stick Janus in it. He spends multiple loops trying to keep Roman happy, stalking him to see if he does...something... after the discussion to cause the loop (he never does), learning as much as he possibly can about him (and in the process starts to feel seriously guilty about how his actions in his previous two episodes have affected Roman) and eventually they get to a loop where Roman ends up agreeing and even defending Janus at the end of the discussion. Both of them, Patton and Thomas leave happy and Jan goes to sleep thinking he’s finally fixed it. And then he wakes up and it’s April 13th.

He decides maybe it’s not Roman. He goes through a very similar process with Patton, then Logan, he pulls Virgil into the discussion (which blows up SPECTACULARLY the first 6 or so run throughs) and does the same thing with him, learning more and more about them each time.  The (60th? 200th? he has lost track completely) loop, everything is perfect. Virgil joins in the post wedding discussion. Logan get’s to say his piece, in person, with everyone listening to him. Roman understands that he was pushed into making a decision he wasn’t happy with and that no one blames him. Patton is able to understand that it’s okay to not know everything, and that its unfair for Thomas and the  others to expect him to, without turning into a giant frog. Janus reveals him name and no one laughs. They all leave as friends.

He wakes up and it’s April 13th.

He goes to their breakfast again. Flips the table over and bursts into tears. He’s tired. 

He’s able to convince them he’s in a time loop by telling them things they’ve told him in previous loops. This is the first time he’s asked for help and is a bit shocked when they agree. After suggesting multiple ideas that he has already tried Logan suggests Thomas could be the problem - not during the discussion that Janus has been focusing on but somthing that happened during the rest of his day.

So, montage of Jannus trying to fix everying that Thomas does that day. With ideas ranging from ‘get off your fucking phone and talk to someone at this wedding you sad sack of sh*t” to “ring the callback people at 6 am and tell them you changed your mind. DO IT DO IT DO IT”. Nothing works. 

One loop (83? 356? he has no idea) whilst Janus is lieing face down in a bowl of cereal and the others are brainstomring ideas he has already tried, Virgil laughs and says it’s a shame Jan got caught up in a time loop and not him. Janus frowns at him 

“what?”

“well.... you can literally say or do whatever you want and there’s no consequences. Even if you say something stupid everyone will have forgotten by the next day. It’s...kinvde my dream honestly”

“...huh.”

SO, comedy montage of Janus living all of his best lives. He flings a ‘The Office’ DVD box set at Thomas’ head whilst screaming SELF CARE BITCH. He traps everyone in the theatre and performs a choreographed rendition of razzle dazzle to slightly confused applause. He spends entire days naked. He invents a new cocktail. He unleashes the orange side and watches the chaos whilst lazing on the sofa in a face mask. He snogs all the other sides at LEAST once each. He heads to Remus room and enlists him transform the whole mindscape into a beach. After spending the day building sand castles (or sand brothels in Remus’ case) and watching the other sides battle a kraken Remus grins at him and says 

“That was fun! What do you wanna do tomorrow?”

And Jan kind’ve sighs and shrugs because he really should be getting back to trying to fix this whole mess..and Remus scowls and says “oh right. You’ll want to be getting back to your real best friends”

Jan frowns. “You’re my best friend idiot”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah. That’s why it’s taken one hundred and eighteen Aprils 13ths for you to even come and see me”.

Janus stares at him. He hadn’t told Remus about the time loop when he came to him with the beach plan.

His original idea about creativity being the only side who might be able to cause this? 

Looks like he wasn’t wrong after all.

Remus, desperate not to loose his only friend after Jan started making nice with the light sides, has either consciously or subconsciously trapped them both in this time loop on the last day where they were both ‘dark sides’.

And with Remus quickly running away after their conversation, Janus still doesn't know how to fix it. 

For the fake fic titles asks (please do NOT send me anymore to do for now)