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randxmthxughts · 1 year

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You'll be a great dad - Tsu'tey one-shot

summary: tsu'tey is overwhelmed with anxiety and fear upon hearing the news of his mate's pregnancy and becoming a father, but like a good friend, jake is there to calm him down

wc: 1.3k

contains: just reader being pregnant, jake and tsu'tey are bros

a/n: ahh, i missed writing so much, i had to post another fluff today. esp after finishing the unrequited series, i can't let go of tsu'tey and the idea of dad!tsu'tey, so you must suffer with me. replies and reblogs are requireeed

masterlist

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Tsu’tey paced around the lab with a concerned look on his face, making Jake feel slightly dizzy. It was already chaotic enough with the kids running around and touching everything they weren’t supposed to, so Tsu’tey’s restlessness only added to Jake’s headache.

“Tsu’tey, for the love of God, can you please sit down?” he asked tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

Tsu’tey shot him an angry glare, but eventually complied and slowed his frenzied pacing. He sank onto an empty bed beside Jake, his eyes glazing over as he absentmindedly watched Lo’ak drag Kiri by her kuru, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from her. The bickering between the kids and Jake’s raised voice attempting to separate them faded into the background as Tsu’tey's mind raced with worry for you. Something wasn't right.

It had been two days since you decided to be a little adventurous and try some of the sky people's food, egged on by Jake. Tsu’tey had warned you to stay away from it, but as you disobeyed, you were suffering the consequences that same night, and the night after that. And it wasn’t going away, which made Tsu’tey grow increasingly frightened.

You had a restless night, tossing and turning with waves of nausea until you finally vomited early in the morning. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but snicker at you for not heeding his warnings, and lectured you about how nothing good came from the sky people and that you should have known better. But when the vomiting persisted into the next day, his amusement quickly washed away making place for worry. He insisted that you saw Tsahik, but despite her doubts, it was still too early to tell anything. So, when Jake suggested taking you to the lab, with no other options left, Tsu’tey reluctantly agreed. He didn’t trust it, but he was desperate to see you back on your feet and sleeping soundly beside him at night.

“Why are they taking her blood?” he asked protectively, as he glared through the glass window into the room where you were seated, your arm extended and a needle piercing your skin.

“To run a few tests, figure out what’s wrong,” Jake explained with a calm voice, placing a comforting hand on Tsu’tey’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, it’s normal.”

Tsu’tey hummed but it wasn’t like he could calm his nerves. Time seemed to drag on endlessly as they kept you in the back room, running test after test. And even seated next to Jake, Tsu’tey couldn’t stop tapping his foot in annoyance. His eyes wandered over to the three kids, Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Kiri, who were playing around with one of the large machines. They were pressing buttons that didn’t light up like on the other equipment, and Tsu’tey smiled weakly, assuming that it must not be working.

“Lo’ak, play nice,” Jake warned his youngest, then turned to look at Tsu’tey, “I swear, ever since he was born, I started finding gray hair all over my head.”

“At the rate he’s going, you’ll be back with Eywa in no time,” Tsu’tey joked for the first time in a day, “Give it a few more years.”

“Be careful what you wish for, buddy. If that happens, you'll have to step up and help Neytiri with the kids as their uncle,” Jake chuckled with an amused tone.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Tsu’tey grinned, “I’ll make sure those little monsters learn how to hunt properly. Not the way their daddy taught them.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. Their banter was cut short when Norm walked into the room with a quick, “Good, you guys are still here.” Immediately, Tsu’tey rose to his feet, his ears and tail perked up in alert. Jake stood up too, eyeing the thick folder in Norm’s hands.

"What is wrong with her? Is she alright?" Tsu’tey asked with a frown, urging Norm to speak.

“Yes, she is alright, don’t worry," Norm answered calmly, bringing a slight relief to the two men, "We got her blood work back, ran some tests, and everything is normal."

“Where is she?”

“She's in the back room, taking a nap,” Norm shrugged, “She was exhausted, so we let her rest for a while.” “Yes, she hasn’t slept for two nights,” Tsu’tey grumbled in annoyance.

“Was it food poisoning?” Jake interjected.

Norm tensed up slightly, biting the inside of his cheek, as if he was holding back information. Tsu’tey and Jake exchanged a look, waiting for Norm to continue.

“No, not food poisoning,” he finally answered, “But it’s better if she knows first.”

“Talk,” Tsu’tey ordered with a stern voice, not known to tolerate any ambiguity. Especially not when it concerned your health.

“I’ll have to talk to her, it’s kind of personal,” Norm said sheepishly.

“Spill it,” the man took a step closer, his tone intimidating. Jake rushed to step in between the two, placing a hand on Norm’s shoulder to defuse the tension.

“What is it, Norm?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it's just that I think she should be the first to know...” he trailed off.

“Oh,” Jake’s face lit up with realization, “Is she…?”

Norm nodded, backing away from Tsu’tey.

“What? What's going on?” Tsu’tey demanded, growing more agitated by the second.

“I think he means that Y/N is pregnant,” Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Tsu’tey looked in between them a few times, struggling to process the information. He turned to Norm again, pointing at the papers in his hands.

“So, is she healthy?”

“Yes, everything looks good,” Norm said, “Congratulations, man.”

“You’re going to be a dad,” Jake chimed in, squeezing Tsu’tey’s shoulders with an encouragement.

Content with Norm’s answer that you were alright, Tsu’tey hardly registered anything else past that. The men stared at him in anticipation to say something, anything, about your pregnancy, but Tsu’tey remained silent, unable to form a coherent response.

“Well, aren’t you happy?” Jake nudged him.

“About what?”

“About Y/N being pregnant?” Jake let out a chuckle of disbelief.

Tsu’tey frowned, taking a seat on the bed again. His mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts at the news, chest tightening with anxiety of becoming a father. The distant screams of the Sully kids were like the high-pitched screeches of Toruk to his ears, only adding to the panic he felt. He was not ready to be responsible for a new life, and there were so many things to prepare.

Norm mumbled something about checking on you, and Jake nodded before taking a seat next to his friend. While it was unusual to see Tsu'tey so zoned out, Jake could understand how scary the thought might have seemed to him.

“Aren’t you happy? I’m sure you thought about having kids with Y/N before.”

“I have,” Tsu’tey confirmed with a nod.

“Then this shouldn't be as much of a surprise to you, right? I mean, if you didn’t hold back…” Jake teased with a knowing smile.

“You and your disgusting sky people talk,” he spat in annoyance.

“But seriously, man, it might seem scary but it’s actually not,” Jake gestured at his kids, who were now occupied with Grace’s old diary logs, “All you have to do is keep them fed and play with them a couple of times a day, and they’re happy. And once they stop breastfeeding, they might even notice that they have a dad too.”

Tsu’tey smiled at his words weakly, grateful for the reassurance. Sure, he was still anxious about messing it up and not being a good father, but he couldn’t help the excitement starting to bubble up in his chest.

“I mean, even my kids like you, so I think you’ll be a great dad, Tsu’tey,” Jake patted his shoulder with a toothy grin, “And Y/N will be a wonderful mother. Seriously, your kid would be lucky to have you two as parents.” “Thank you, Jake Sully,” Tsu’tey stood up with a sparkle in his eyes, “I’ll go find her.”

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @live-laugh-neteyam @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @itszmedawn @arminsgfloll @kireysii @crustskullz

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zzoomacroom · 2 months

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Last Line Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @tj-dragonblade! 💗💗💗

I haven't had much time to write lately, and I'm having one of those "everything I write is cringe and I hate it" moments, but hopefully I'll get my groove back soon.

Last thing I wrote was for the next chapter of Rain Is Coming Down. I'm not really happy with how this scene is coming together, so I will most likely be making some big edits.

Context for what's going on in this snippet: Retired Dream is pregnant, and Hob is telling Death about the difficulties he and Morpheus have been facing while trying to find prenatal care. The character mentioned here, Eileithyia, is the Greek goddess of childbirth and midwifery, whom I have adopted as an OC because I decided actually there should be even more mythological figures who have beef with Morpheus.

In the end, the best candidate Hob managed to find had been a veterinarian with a discreet side practice treating human patients. When he had brought it up to Morpheus, well… if looks could kill and Hob could die, he’d have been reduced to a pile of ash on the spot. He’d almost made a joke about the vet being perfect for his angry cat of a husband, but he didn’t fancy sleeping on the sofa for the next decade, so he’d kept his mouth shut. “I suppose,” Morpheus had conceded through gritted teeth, “I would be willing to speak to Eileithyia. If there is truly no better option.” So it worked out brilliantly after all, and Hob couldn’t be prouder of Morpheus—the man’s held grudges for billions of years, so this is big. “Yeah, she’s been a life-saver,” Hob says. “If it weren’t for her, we would’ve had to go with one of my, er… underground contacts. And they’re all either glorified drug dealers or so-called ‘doctors’ with questionable credentials whose usual gigs involve extracting bullets from mobsters. And of course anything through the NHS is out of the question.” “Of course. Can’t have your secret getting out,” Death winks. “Too right,” Hob agrees before downing the last of his tea. It’s a relief talking to someone who understands. “Only it’s a bit frustrating; not like we can tell any of our friends the real reason we’ve got a midwife making house calls instead of going to an obstetrician like normal people living in the 21st century. Suze keeps trying to talk us out of having a home birth. I think now she thinks we’re just artsy-granola-hippie types. What was it she was asking you the other day, darling?” “She was impressing upon me the importance of vaccinating the baby,” Morpheus replies. “And reminding me that there is no shame in getting an epidural,” he adds with an endearingly perplexed frown.

No pressure tags: @ralkana @fleabagoftheendless @linzod @menthol-drops Not sure who has been tagged for this recently, so consider yourself tagged if you see this, and/or feel free to tag me on your post! ✨

#zoom writes #last line tag game #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fanfic #retired dream #mpreg

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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Reading for Context

I don’t really feel like scrolling through community profiles has taught me anything. People tend to just post normal tumblr posts and not tirades about shipping. I was told to just scroll OTNF go understand, but OTNF’s feed is just screenshots from a K-drama and idiots pestering him about pronouns for some reason. Is there like a specific way to do it? So… i’ve actually never understood the social conventions of other people in any group i’ve been in. I haven’t really had in real life friends since middle school.

This is actually kind of an interesting question.

First, let me be plain, what you've been asking repeatedly over the last couple of weeks or however long it's been is this:

How does a neurodivergent person who fundamentally is not good at social nuance, reading comprehension, and picking up on context get better at those things?

I've known people whose parents hired coaches to work with them on a weekly basis for years. "How does socializing work?" is not a simple question.

Teaching reading comprehension is hard too.

I vaguely remember a lot of times in school where English teachers spent whole semesters trying to get us to understand not only what figurative language meant in context but how to detect that it was present in the first place. I still remember this one 9th grade classmate wailing "But why does it have to be a metaphor?"

What you're asking about is something most people work on for decades, yet you want randos to summarize it simply in a few sentences.

The first thing that jumps out at me here is the superficiality of how you're describing engaging.

When people say to lurk, they're talking about a deep engagement with a community. They're talking about reading closely, including comments, for a month, not scrolling back through a week and just skimming the top-level posts.

Did you open the replies on my tumblr posts where other people besides me are discussing things? Did you look at the reblogs with content, and not just the ones I reblogged back onto my own tumblr?

Beyond the exact number of days you should read or the exact procedure, people are talking about a very in-depth kind of engagement in general. The point is that it's difficult to just come into a new space and know how it works without studying it.

For example, I talk about oldschool fanfic stuff a lot. A logical default assumption is that I'm a woman. Are you not familiar enough with fanfic spaces to assume that, or are you coming from Spacebattles or something?

Why on earth would you default to 'him'?

I'm not insulted: it just shows a staggering lack of clue about the context you found me in.

I've linked you to my patreon where you can see my pro writing pseudonym, which is obviously female. My tumblr itself links to my pro writing and gives my actual name, which is also fairly obviously feminine. I've also recently talked about being pregnant. Yes, it was oblique and I only confirmed it in the replies, not a top-level post, but plenty of regulars noticed. (Yes, yes, biology is not gender, but still...)

There are plenty of clues I'm not a "him", but you missed them all. I don't care about pronouns, but I do care about people who don't bother to or aren't capable of reading closely.

Quite a few people have sent me asks asking what I'm watching. I have repeatedly said that it's DMBJ and described it as "the Chinese tomb raider franchise". Yet you assumed it was Korean for some reason. This suggests that you just scrolled through quickly and did not actually thoroughly read the text of the posts or the replies. It suggests that your eyes skipped over the boring-looking short text posts in between the picspams.

It suggests you didn't bother to google what I was watching when I did say the name because you don't give enough of a shit to bother. That doesn't suggest a very high level of interest in my blog or any reason I should cut you any slack or pay attention to what you think.

It also suggests that you didn't look back all that far. I've been posting a lot about DMBJ, but I only started downloading Ultimate Note on July 15th and Tomb of the Sea on August 1st.

If you want to understand a community, scrolling hurriedly through one month of content and not actually reading it closely is insufficient.

This is what people mean when they say you're not willing to put in the work and want other people to do it for you.

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francesminos-tt · 9 months

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joff is still in high school when he gets pregnant👀 daeron is almost finishing university but he's stupid enough to have sex with his nephew without protection

smut(?) angst and feels :) they don't have an established relationship and joff is scared... happy ending please 🥺❤️

I am thinking way more drama than I put down🤣

It all started in a normal autumn afternoon, just when the green leaves of summer started to turn red. The air was crisp, not too humid like the steaming summer, nor too dry like the freezing winter. Joffrey took a deep inhale and closed his eyes as a gentle breeze caressed his cheeks. He loved to go outside, bathing in the sun and being surrounded by nature always making him smile. Today was no exception. Joffrey insisted on going outside for a walk despite Rhaenyra’s worried face. He was struck down by a nasty fever, and had to spend the past week in bed. He had to go out, or he would lose his mind. So, Joffrey put on his warmest jacket and stepped out of the house for the first time in a week, ignoring the lingering cramp in his stomach.

This fever was strange. Joffrey didn't have a running nose or sore throat. The symptoms didn't feel like a normal cold. He had severe stomach cramps and a constant blunt pain in his lower back. He couldn't eat or even sit up, for the nausea and vertigo would make him vomit his guts out. The first three days were hell, but from the fourth day, Joffrey began to feel better. On day six, he finally managed to keep down a full meal.

Joffrey promised his mother that he would just take a light walk around the park he had frequented since childhood. It was a short walk from his house to the park, the fresh scent of leaves and the gentle autumn breeze lifted his mood significantly. By the time Joffrey reached the park, he felt a lot like his normal self again.

There weren’t many people in the park on a Wednesday afternoon, but Joffrey noticed the group of teenagers playing football on the small field.

“Hey, Ben!” Joffrey shouted, waving his hands at a teenager boy with a shaved head.

The boy didn't stop to greet Joffrey. Instead, he kept carrying the ball forward, passing it back and forth with his teammates, until he scored a beautiful goal from the outer angle. The boy said something to his playmates before running towards Joffrey, who was leaning against a light post.

“Nice goal.” Joffrey smiled and bumped fists with the boy, “You are getting good at forward position, Ben. Not as good as me, though.”

“Fuck off, Joffrey.” Benjicot Blackwood rolled his eyes at his friend, “I haven't seen you for a while. Everything all right?”

“Sick.” Joffrey replied, “I had to stay in bed for a week.”

Benjicot made a face. If anyone could understand Joffrey’s frustration of being confined to his bed, it would be Ben.

“Yeah,” Joffrey shrugged, “I am about to rot if I don't get out of bed today.”

Despite being a year younger, Ben was Joffrey’s best friend. They went to the same school, joined the same football team, and come to each other’s birthday party, etc. They were considered inseparable, even after they presented as different genders. Ben was an alpha and Joffrey an omega, but it didn't hinder their friendship at all. Ben was the first person whom Joffrey told about his omega status, and Ben didn't treat him any different after hearing the news. He never treated Joffrey like some fragile doll, which Joffrey was very grateful for.

“You still look pale.” Benjicot observed, “Maybe you should take it easy sometimes, Joff. You are pushing yourself too hard.”

“Please, not you too.” Joffrey waved his hand exaggeratedly, “I am fine! Ready to kick your ass actually. Do you want to try?”

“No, thanks.” Benjicot rolled his eyes and bumped Joffrey’s shoulder with his own, “I am not competing with a sick person.”

Benjicot’s gesture was playfully at most, but somehow, Joffrey felt himself lose balance by Ben’s push, his knees buckled, and before he realized what had happened, he was already lying on the ground with his arms across his stomach.

“Fuck!” Ben’s panicked voice came from above, “Are you okay, Joff? Are you hurt anywhere? God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to push you.”

Joffrey knew his friend would never mean to hurt him, and to be fair, Benjicot hardly even used any force, but Joffrey was still sent to the ground like a sack of potatoes. How come he had become so weak?

“Here, hold on to me.” Ben wrapped his arm around Joffrey’s torso and tried to lift the brunette up, “You didn't bump your head or anything, do you?”

“No,” Joffrey managed, “I am fine, I think.”

Although Joffrey was sure he didn't bump his head, he still felt like hell. His world seemed to be have turned upside down, as if he was riding a rollercoaster, a very thrilling one at that. His vision was blurred and he felt like vomiting. He could smell Ben’s alpha scent, fresh watery plants, mixed with sweat and the unique earthiness of the football field. It was a familiar scent. In fact, Joffrey liked Ben’s alpha scent, but now, the freshness only made him sicker.

“Are you sure? You are pale as sheet, Joffrey. Let me take you back, okay?”

Joffrey opened his mouth to say yes, but all that came out was stomach acid and bitter bile. Joffrey barely had time to push Benjicot away before bending down to vomit. He gagged and coughed so hard that by the time his stomach finally settled, Joffrey was crawling on the ground, shaking, dark curls soaked with cold sweat.

Unsurprisingly, Joffrey was rushed to the hospital. It seemed that he almost gave Benjicot a heart attack. When Joffrey regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the hospital bed, the white ceiling so bright that it hurt his eyes.

“Joff? Thank the Seven you are awake.” Rhaenyra was by his side in an instant, “How are you feeling? Is anything hurting, my dear?”

Now, Joffrey was not a weakling, nor was he a spoiled boy. Though he was still in high school, Joffrey always considered himself a grownup. Grownups didn't run to their mother wherever they were in pain, right? That was why Joffrey had stopped complaining about pain or discomfort since his 15th birthday. However, his resolve was failing right now.

“Everything hurts.” Joffrey hissed, a rare show of weakness.

“I am so sorry, baby.” Rhaenyra brushed some wet curls from Joffrey’s face before kissing the boy on the forehead, “Let me call the doctor. They should be able to give you something for the pain.”

Rhaenyra released her soothing pheromones in an attempt to comfort her son. Her effort did work, but only to a small extent. Normally, her pheromone was enough to release any pain or discomfort of her pups, but Joffrey’s situation was unique. The omega boy could only benefit from one particular pheromone right now, which certainly didn’t please Rhaenyra.

“No, please, mother,” Joffrey tried to grab his mother’s sleeve, “don’t go. I don't want to be alone.”

This was another rare behavior for Joffrey. Rhaenyra’s third son was known for his toughness, having been promoted to the captain of his football team in the boy league despite his omega status, but even Joffrey could not hold maintain his toughness anymore.

“Joff, dear, I need to ask you something.” Rhaenyra sat back on the edge of the bed and gently smoothed Joffrey’s hair, “Can you promise to be honest with me?”

Joffrey was confused. Why wouldn't he be honest? He had never purposely deceived his mother, not with bad intention anyway. The biggest lie he had told probably was when he told his mother that an alien ate Jace’s birthday cake while in fact it was Joffrey who had eaten the whole thing. To be fair, he had only been five back then.

“Okay.” Joffrey nodded even so slightly in order not to cause anymore nausea.

“Do you know why you have been sick lately?” Rhaenyra asked, “The cramps, nausea, fatigue. Do you know what caused these symptoms?”

“The flu?” Joffrey tried, “Maybe a stomach bacteria or something.”

Rhaenyra stared at him for a moment, as if judging if Joffrey was telling the truth. She sighed after seeing the confusion in her son’s dark eyes.

“Unfortunately, it’s not the reason of your sickness, my dear.” Rhaenyra paused, “The doctors did some test on you and they found out that…”

“Found out what?” Joffrey urged as panic began to rise, “Am I dying? Is that some sort of fatal disease?”

“No, it is not.” Rhaenyra swallowed before continuing, “The doctors find out that you are pregnant, Joffrey.”

Did he hear wrong? He was what? Pregnant? As in, with child? Was there a child growing inside him?

“You know I don't forbid you or your brothers to develop a romantic relationship, right?” Rhaenyra said with a small smile, “I am not a hypocrite like that. But Joff, you are still in high school. You are too young to take this responsibility. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

The initial shock had mostly disappeared by now, replaced by an enormous amount of shame. Joffrey knew what his mother was actually asking. She wanted to know who the baby father was, but how could Joffrey tell her? How could Joffrey tell his mother that he had been messing around with his youngest uncle?

The room was warm despite the snowstorm raging outside. The heater was working at its max capacity, making the room so warm that a thick layer of fog had formed on the window. Joffrey sat at the window, drawing meaningless patterns with his index finger. He wasn’t really paying attention, but somehow, the patterns he drew were all hearts, in various sizes and shapes.

Joffrey blushed after realizing what he had just done. He began to wipe the patterns off but a large hand stopped him.

“What are you doing?” A deep but soft voice whispered in Joffrey’s ear, as a strong arm wrapped around the boy’s torso, a warm scent of incense and spice enveloping him.

“Nothing.” Joffrey said, trying to sound calm, but his pink ear tip betrayed him.

The alpha chuckled. He began to scribble down something on the window, long, elegant finger danced on the cold glass, adding something to Joffrey’s mindless drawings.

Two names, on each side of the heart. Daeron and Joffrey, connected by a poorly drawn heart pattern. Daeron loved Joffrey.

“There. It looks a lot better, doesn’t it?” Daeron said, resting his chin on Joffrey’s shoulder.

If Joffrey had been blushing earlier, he was now burning. He was so embarrassed, but so happy at the cheesy act that he couldn't help but giggle.

“Come, tea is ready.” Daeron planted a small kiss on Joffrey’s neck, “I’ve made your favorite hot chocolate.”

“Are you courting me?” Joffrey asked, letting himself be led to the small coffee table in front of the couch, where there were all kinds of his favorite snacks.

Daeron didn't answer. He never answered when Joffrey brought up questions like that. They had done all the things that boyfriends would do to each other, kissing, cuddling, sex, and even went on dates, but Daeron never put a name to their relationship. No matter how tender and loving Daeron was to Joffrey in private, when they met at family events, he was only Uncle Daeron, nothing more and nothing less.

As a teenager boy, despite acting like he didn't care about relationships, all Joffrey wanted was to brag about his ‘boyfriend’. Daeron was a senior in King’s Landing College, studying law and international politics. He was the very image of a posh alpha, tall, strong, polite and very handsome. Above all, he was so good to Joffrey, both in and out of bed.

“Have you done your homework?” Daeron asked as he let Joffrey sit between his legs, enveloping the boy with all his limbs.

“You sound like my father.” Joffrey complained, throwing a handful of chocolate-covered almonds into his mouth.

“I remember someone specifically told me to remind him of his homework, because he would get into great trouble if he didn't finish them.” Daeron said with a chuckle, tickling Joffrey on the boy’s sensitive waist, drawing a string of giggle from the little omega.

Joffrey tried to get out of Daeron’s lap, but the alpha wouldn't let him. Instead, Daeron slipped his cold hand into the hem of Joffrey’s sweatshirt, flattening his palm on the boy’s soft belly and squeezing teasingly.

“Okay, okay! I surrender! Stop doing that!” Joffrey giggled, out of breath, his already rosy cheek now red like ripe tomatoes.

Daeron swept Joffrey into his arms and pressed their body together, his alpha scent mixing with Joffrey’s sweet omega one, their breaths soon mingled together as well. Daeron kissed Joffrey on the lips, his tongue entering the boy’s mouth without hesitation, sweeping through Joffrey’s gums and teeth, drinking the boy’s surprised moan all down. The heated kiss soon turned into heated making out, and finally Joffrey found himself lying on the soft carpet, shirtless, with Daeron on top of him. Daeron was nibbling on his breast while playing with his already wet pussy, tugging Joffrey’s fat lips and pressing hard on the omega’s clit.

Joffrey’s hip bucked uncontrollably, his legs shaking as sweet moans escaped his lips. Daeron was the one who taught Joffrey the pleasure of the flesh, so he knew Joffrey’s body like the back of his hand, knowing where to lick, to press, to pinch, to kiss, that could send Joffrey over the edge.

“Please,” Joffrey said with teary eyes, rubbing his crotch against Daeron’s clothed bulge, “I need you, uncle.”

Daeron’s eyes darkened, his alpha scent taking a possessive turn. A drop of his sweat dripped from his silver curls to Joffrey’s lips, which the omega eagerly licked off. That was Daeron’s last straw. He always felt guilty to mess around with his teenager nephew, but he couldn't help himself. Joffrey was like a poisoned flower, so sweet yet so addicting that made Daeron fall into the boy’s charm easily. Daeron was so possessed by lust that he forgot to put on protection. They fucked on the soft carpet, snacks completely forgotten on the small table. That was the first time Daeron came inside Joffrey, filling the boy to the brim that Joffrey’s entrance couldn't close for an hour.

They continued their relationship, fucking without protection too many times to count. Daeron insisted on not putting a name to the things they shared, because naming would make it real.

Do you not want to make it real? Joffrey always wanted to ask, but he never did.

Joffrey told his mother the truth, of course, but he purposely omitted some details. For example, he only said that he had been fucking Uncle Daeron, but didn't elaborate on how long he had been doing so. He promised that he was not coerced, but Rhaenyra didn't seem to buy it.

“I need you to inform Alicent.” Rhaenyra said, “I need to have a chat with my half-brother. Even if he didn't force you into anything, he should know better than doing it without protection.”

She had a point, but Joffrey was scared to let Daeron know the news. He had never pictured himself having kids, and definitely not in this young age. By some miracle, despite malnutrition, the embryo survived, holding onto Joffrey’s womb with such force that it was definitely Joffrey’s blood.

“Mother, I-” Joffrey said, but he didn't know how to continue, “I am so sorry.”

“You are a fool, Joffrey.” Rhaenyra sighed, “But you don't need to apologize. I just hope you could have respected your body more.”

“I wasn’t just messing around.” Joffrey replied, suddenly feeling defensive, “I won’t sleep with anyone, mother. I am better than that.”

“But you slept with your uncle. Is Daeron special to you, my dear?” Rhaenyra asked gently, “Is he treating well? Is he a good alpha for you?”

“I don’t know.” Joffrey lowered his eyes, “He said he liked me, but he seemed reluctant to make us official. I like him, mother. He’s kind and gentle to me, but…”

Joffrey couldn’t continue as the lump in his throat was so hard to swallow. His vision was blurred with tears, but he stubbornly refused to let the tears down. To be honest, he was scared. He didn’t know how to deal with this. What if Daeron didn’t want the child? Did Joffrey have to drop out of school? How could he raise a child on his own? Too many uncertainties messed up Joffrey’s already fragile mind even more, sending him into a panic attack.

“Shhh, it’s okay, my boy.” Rhaenyra cradled Joffrey’s head in her arms, “It’s okay. Breathe slowly. That’s it. You are doing great, Joffrey.”

“Do I have to give up school and football, mother?” Joffrey asked in a whisper after his breath returned to normal, “I can’t play while pregnant, can I?”

“No, it is better you don’t, but it doesn’t mean you have to give up on anything.” Rhaenyra assured, “I will support you no matter what. If you decide to keep the child, you can take some time off and finish school afterwards. It isn’t unheard of, okay? If you don’t want the child, well, there is always the option of abortion.”

Abortion. Joffrey hadn’t really given any thought on that. He was still young. He still had so much to learn and experience, and a child would definitely disrupt his plan. Taking the child out seemed to be a solution of all his problems, but Joffrey hesitated to make the decision. He had a feeling that if he lost this child, his ties to Daeron would all be severed as well.

“I need some time to think.” Joffrey said eventually.

“Of course. Now, have some rest. You must be exhausted.”

Joffrey lay down again and closed his eyes, a drop of tears finally sliding down his cheek.

Joffrey was released from the hospital three days later. He wasn’t hurt anywhere to begin with, so after some IV and pheromone stabilizers, he was back to his normal self again.

Well, almost.

Joffrey had learned to coexist with constant nausea and cramps now. He had trouble keep anything down in the morning, and he was tired all the time. Joffrey searched his symptoms online and found out that pregnant omegas lacking their alphas’ pheromones would often suffer from such discomforts.

His alpha. Was Daeron his alpha? Joffrey had no idea. Daeron never called, and Joffrey wasn’t sure if his mother had told him the news or not.

Joffrey’s finger lingered on his phone screen, tracing Daeron’s name in his contact but didn’t dare to press call. He didn’t want to become Daeron’s burden. Joffrey curled himself into a ball, covered in a warm blanket, trying to wait the cramps away. He missed his uncle’s hugs. He missed being wrapped in Daeron’s strong arms, missed the alpha’s soothing scent, missed his uncle’s tender kisses on his skin. He didn’t want to act like clingy boy, but now he had never craved Daeron’s company more than he did now.

“Daeron.” Joffrey whispered as he dozed off. His sleep was disturbed by constant cramps, and he was jolted awake by the vibration of phone.

“…Hello?” Joffrey picked up without looking at the caller’s name.

“Joff!” A deep yet gentle voice came from the phone, “Open the door, please.”

Door? Joffrey looked up, only to the door bell was ringing all this time. There seemed to be no one in the house. His mother probably left for some errands. Joffrey dragged himself up, still wrapped in the thick blanket and walked to the front door. He wasn’t thinking straight, his head clouded by fatigue and drowsiness, so he didn’t recognize the voice in the phone.

“Joffrey! Thank God you are okay.”

A tall figure practically leaped at him, sweeping Joffrey into a crushing hug. The omega recognized the scent immediately, incense with a hint of spice, warmer than the blanket he kept around his shoulder. The cramps in his lower belly soothed almost immediately as the scent enveloped him.

“Uncle?” Joffrey blinked, “Daeron?”

“Yes.” Daeron cupped Joffrey’s face into his hands and observed the boy, “You look so pale, Joff. Are you sure you are all right?”

“Why are you here?” Joffrey asked, too shocked to think of anything else, “You never visit our house.”

“I got the call from my mother as soon as my flight landed.” Daeron replied, shutting the door with his feet before carrying Joffrey in his arms, “I am sorry I have been out of reach. The phone signal was bad in the mountains.”

Why were you in the mountains? Joffrey wanted to ask, but it wasn’t the time. He buried his face in Daeron’s neck and inhaled the scent he had missed so much.

“I’ve heard the news, Joff.” Daeron said after placing Joffrey down on the couch, “Why didn’t you contact me? I am so scared that you don’t anything to do with me or my child.”

“You didn’t call either.” The words sounded more accusing than Joffrey intended, but he couldn’t care less, “You don’t have to apologize for disappearing without telling me. We are not boyfriends.”

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Daeron’s lips curled up into a self-mocking smile, “I am so sorry. I am a coward for refusing to admit what we have. I am scared, Joffrey. I have never developed feelings as strong as I have for you. I want to claim you and make you mine, even though you are still a teenager. I want to keep you for myself. It scares me, Joffrey.”

“I thought you didn’t want us to be real.” Joffrey placed his hand on his lower belly, “I thought you would blame me for getting pregnant.”

“I would never!” Daeron rushed to say, “We are both guilty at this, me even more than you. How can I blame you for giving me a pup? Do you know how many times I have dreamed of this moment?”

“Then ask me properly.” Joffrey said, his voice quivering a bit.

“Joffrey Velaryon, can you give me the honor to court you?” Daeron asked, “I can get down on one knee if you want.”

Joffrey had been waiting for this question for so long. If he had known that it would take a child for Daeron to admit his feelings, Joffrey might have done it sooner.

Neither of them knew the chaos and drama Daeron had to go through in order to make Joffrey his, but that was the story for another time.

#house of the dragon #hotd #joffron #my asks #joffrey velaryon #daeron x joffrey #daeron the daring #abo dynamics

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cleo-fox · 8 months

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The “When Are You Updating?” Ask

I should say up front that this isn’t in response to anything I received. This topic came up in a Discord server that I’m in and another friend of mine got a similar ask shortly after.

I’ve alluded to the fact that this Tumblr isn’t my first account and that I’ve written for other fandoms previously. What I haven’t talked about is why I’m taking an extended hiatus from that fandom or why the majority of my work in this one has been one shots.

Historically, I’ve been a long fic writer. On my other pen name, I posted a long fic that had a fairly decent following in that particular corner of fandom. I’m a slow writer under normal circumstances but when the pandemic hit, I started having more trouble writing and my updates slowed a lot. I worked in a public facing role and the stress I was experiencing was unlike anything I’d ever dealt with before. About a year into the pandemic, I got pregnant.

To sum it up: I was pregnant, which put me at a higher risk for developing complications from Covid. I was working in a public facing role, which increased my risk of catching Covid and had the added factor of people being aggressive about not complying with mask mandates. Because of my pregnancy, I was not able to take critical medications, which then negatively affected my focus and energy levels. I was dealing with other chronic illnesses that were exacerbated or changed by pregnancy, as well as the physical symptoms of pregnancy itself. Then there was also the delivery, which had complications, as well as adjusting to life with a newborn and then going back to work.

I was upfront about all of this. I said that my fics weren’t abandoned, but that I didn’t know when the next update would be because I was dealing with a lot.

I still got asks asking why hadn’t I updated yet.

I knew that these asks came from a good, well-intentioned place. I loved that people were so excited about my writing that they wanted to read more. I loved that they cared so deeply about my characters. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful for their enthusiasm or their support, nor did I want to initiate a pile on with a snarky reply or make someone feel bad for asking a genuine question. I often struggled with how to word my replies, to find a way to be grateful for their enthusiasm while also reiterating that I had a lot on my plate and that I would write more someday, but that I didn’t know when someday was.

It didn’t seem to matter, though. No matter how many times I said the same thing, the asks still kept coming. The worst ones were the ones that scolded me for taking so long because the sender didn’t know how long they would be in this fandom or the ones that included the phrase “I know you had a baby but…” Those hurt. Those made me feel like people saw me as a content creation machine and not like a person.

Eventually, this started to negatively impact my desire to interact with that community, as well as my desire to write that story. When you log in and you know that there’s a good chance your inbox is going to have one of those notes, it’s hard to feel enthusiastic about logging in at all.

So I decided that I needed to take a break. I still check that pen name every so often and I still intend to finish those other fics, but I need some time. This pen name was created out of a desire to give myself the space to write on my own terms, and I’m grateful for all the people here who have let me do that.

And honestly? If you want a writer to update, it is far, far more effective to talk about what you love about their fic. There are so many times when I’ve been pulled out of a writing slump by a comment or reblog where someone talked about what they enjoyed about my fic. That kind of engagement is more motivating than a request for an update could ever be.

There’s that one post going around with the compilation of crazy AO3 author’s notes—the ones that are like “sorry this chapter is a day late, I spent the night in federal prison lmao.” It’s a great post and I love that there are people like that. I admire people who can create art despite their circumstances. But for every writer like that, there’s someone like me who’s going through some shit and doesn’t have the time or energy to write the same way that she does when things are going okay. I wish people would remember that.

TLDR: be kind.

#fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction

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what-if-nct · 9 months

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(cw // mentions of sh in case anyone is triggered)

hii it’s christmas where i live meaning it’s probably not christmas for you (unless you waited hours to finally reply back) but i just wanna say merry christmas and thank you for being there with me during my hard and mentally draining days. it’s so hard being on social media without bumping into negativity such as real life news, people debating about bare minimum things such as rights for body autonomy, gay rights, etc, and especially for my case, being shunned by a community of people i thought were friends simply for talking about jonghyun on my posts that solely rely on users to create posts in order for the app to work.

while i wish i don’t want to be super negative all the time, this was exactly how i felt this year. i felt violated, stripped from my pride and tormented — yet i’m expected to be happy all the time and put up a brave face all the time.

the truth is, i hated turning 18 because i couldn’t bare the responsibility of being considered an adult at the face of the law, when i had my childhood partially taken away from me. nobody was there during my mental breakdowns. just because it wasn’t 2022 anymore, doesn’t mean i didn’t face cyber bullying and faced targeted harassment simply for talking about my bias just like any other kpop fan, and people liked to downplay it by telling me to “keep it to myself.” i didn’t get to do my dream course at my new college due to my grade, and i felt so fucking shit because i’ve done everything in my willpower just to get the same score 3 years in a row, nobody took my mental breakdown seriously. i was sexually harassed and taken advantaged of by several men, because they did not respect my boundaries, used me as my drunken self, and tried to contact me via twitter acting like a kpop fan from london in the comments, when he was a 25 year old man who only saw me for my body. i was overwhelmed with the way the job centre was treating me and making me feel worse for simply asking a question to prevent email spams by sending me to a centre that could help me get to know the basics of using technology. i had a job, but got scammed for 2 weeks worth of work and i never got paid. i lost £500 which i rightfully worked my ass for, even almost passing out due to walking upstairs and having my feet ache over the constant standing for 8 hours for 3 days a week. i never got to go to france and meet my cousins. it’s sucks because i was planning this since summer and i’ll never be able to go since my parents took the only savings i had to go to africa for a month due to how expensive plane tickets are. i even got fucking pregnant and not to mention, my mum started to act weird around me… and just the way i was treated after turning into an adult… i don’t really wanna go there.

i know it has been a long year, but idk if it’s gonna change at all or if it’s gonna get worse. i just wanted to have a peace of mind for once. that’s literally my wish for 2024. i just want to be free, to have amazing friends, having a normal life, just like everyone else so i don’t have to always compare myself to people on snapchat who show off their day or shout out their friends for their birthdays. i wish i could get rid of my anxiety symptoms, because now notifications, messages (especially pending ones) and anything that shows a number next to an icon would get me really fucking nervous that it would be a harassing message. i just don’t want guys to take advantage of me, i just want a loyal and sweet first boyfriend/girlfriend that is genuinely there and physically as well as emotionally. i just feel like i’m missing out on life just because some stupid systemic ableism in the uk where i was forced to learn at home and be in a special needs class, which can explain why i’m socially awkward and don’t know how to be a normal friend.

basically saying… i just want to be happy. (i’m so sorry for the vent i didn’t expect it to be this long loooool)

Merry Christmas!! there's about 10 minutes till Christmas for me. I am so sorry that this past year has been so hard on you. And its horrible that you had to endure all of that I can't even imagine how hard it's been for you. You deserve so much better than what you've received. You deserve respect, care, love, understanding and you deserve happiness and it breaks my heart you've been treated like this by so many people. I just send you the biggest hug and I'm proud of you, I know life has been hard but I'm proud of you for continuing. And I can't promise when, but things will get better and one day before you know it you will have the happiness you want and deserve and I will always be here to listen and talk to you.

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iwadori · 3 years

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Yahoooo! So could I ask you to do a part 3 of the "When they say they don't want a baby and ur secretly pregnant" with Ushijima pls!🙇🏻‍♀️💜 I loved part 1 w/ kuroo and part 2 w/ atsumu🤧❤🖤

When they say they don’t want a baby and you’re secretly pregnant part 3 (Ushijima)

other parts: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.1K

masterlist

Ushijima and you, were in a great relationship.

You’ve only been dating for a few years but it was obvious to everyone that you were both very much in love.

You loved how Ushijima was how he was transparent and blunt and honest, always being able to tell you what he thinks and feels.

However you very nervous on seeing what he thought and what he felt about the 8 week old baby you have in your stomach.

You were at one of Ushijima’s game, it was a very important game a finale of a tournament and you were there in the VIP seats loudly cheering you boyfriend on as he spikes the ball. At first, Ushijima said he didn’t really mind if you came to one of his games since he thought that he wouldn’t of noticed you in the thousands of people that come. However, when you did show up to one of his games Ushijima felt pride swell his heart and hearing your loud cheers made him try to play the very best that he could play, just for you. So after that game, he’s insisted you come to every one after that because he knows he plays even better with you there.

Ushijima was having his post game interview after of course winning the game, and you were patiently waiting at the side until he was done. You didn’t really pay attention to those interviews, since they were mainly just volleyball talk and since Ushijima wasn’t that friendly to strangers the conversations were pretty basic.

But your head arose when you heard the interviewer ask something that wasn’t particulary about volleyball, ”so what’s after this Ushijima-Sama? Any big plans?” To which Ushijima just simply replied with “Volleyball” making everybody around him laugh.

The interviewer obviously wanted a more personal answer from your boyfriend, so he looks at you and then asks Ushijima, “no plans with you girlfriend? Y/N is it? We see her at the games all the time, cheering you on.”

“Yes Y/N is my biggest supporter.”

“Isn’t that sweet. So what’s next for you? Marriage? Kids?” the interviewer asked staring straight at Ushijima burning for answer, and it seemed his question did interest the other interviewers and people watching this exchange as they were all staring at your boyfriend too.

You were the probably the person that wanted to hear his response the most, as you were planning on telling Ushijima tonight when you go on your celebratory dinner so if he answered the question you’d atleast get some confirmation on how he might feel about your baby.

But to your surprise Ushijima said “Marriage and Kids is not what I'm looking for,” your face dropped and you felt like you wanted to cry. You didn’t think ushijima was going to straight away wife you up, and get you pregnant but you at least thought he’d be open to it.

The interviewer started to say “so theres no possible future Ushijima kids running around?” and you could swear you saw Ushijimas normally ‘hard exterior,’ crack at the question but it quickly went away when he responded with “can the questions be on volleyball please.”

You checked out after he said that, going back to not paying attention to the interview but now stressing over what you were supposed to do. You had it all planned out, you were going to bring him to his favourite resturaunt wine him and dine him and then whip out the baby news.

But now, how were you meant to tell him since it seems he definitely doesn’t want a baby. Although, you’ve only been together for a few years you knew how much Ushijima wanted to reach his goal, would he leave you and your baby to go off and win another volleyball championship.

Eventually, the interview left and you and Ushijima were silently walking to the car. Usually after those interviews Ushijima didn’t really want to talk which is fine and is definitely fine now since you didn’t know what to say to him.

When you got home, he went to go and shower and you went in you bedroom to sit and think. You weren’t really in the mood to go out anymore, since the glory of your boyfriends big win and the great news of your baby has now been squashed by what Ushijima said in that interview and you decided that after he gets out of his shower you’ll confront him on it.

Ushijima left the shower and got changed and asked ”are we still doing your plans later?”

“No not anymore,” you said quietly “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, go ahead Y/N.”

“You know what you said in that interview...?” you said “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?”

“The part about the no marriage, no babies and stuff.”

“Yes I did say that.”

“I know you said that Toshi, but did you mean it... do you really not want kids with me?”

“Not right now. No.”

“Oh”

“Is that a problem Y/N?” he asked sitting down next to you, quite confused on your sudden questions about his interview, since you never really paid attention before.

“So if I were to be pregnant right now, you wouldn’t like that?”

“Well you couldn’t possibly be pregnant, I use condoms all the time Y/N.”

“Toshi, condoms don’t work all the time...”

“They don’t? but Bokuto-san sai-”

“Forget about that, so if I were to be pregnant right now you wouldn’t want that?”

“I don’t really know how to answer that Y/N...” he said a bit dumbfounded and now extremly confused since Ushijima was definitely one of the poor souls that think condoms are 100% full proof, especially after talking to Bokuto. “Why do you ask anyways, are you pregnant?”

You didn’t respond, just awkwardly rubbed your arm and your silence was the answer Ushijima needed which now made sense to him as to why you were asking these questions. “I have something to tell you,” he said turning his body to you.

“Which is...?” you asked, wondering on how what he was about to say could ruin your night even more.

“I got this offer to play volleyball,” he said looking a bit sheepish which made you slightly antsy “in poland.”

Your eyes nearly bulged your face, poland. That’s miles away, and of course its volleyball so you knew Ushijima was probably dying to fly over there.

“When did you get the offer Toshi?”

“January.”

“January! That was 5 months ago. How couldn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?” you yell, standing up and the quick motion made you a bit nauseous but you kept on going “When were you even planning on telling me, what the fuck Ushijima.”

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you for so long, but I wanted to get different offers and decide on what I want to do and I know it’s a bit short notice as im expected to be there on saturday but i thought you wouldn’t have minded as it’s only for 6 months. You know how much volleyball means to me Y/N.”

“Volleyball this, volley ball that oh my god Ushijima, can you hear yourself right now. You’re really trying to justify keeping the fact that you’re planning to move 3000 miles away for 6 months for volleyball. And I know that you love and are so passionate for volleyball and I love you for all of that but what about me Ushijma. What about this baby?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t intended for you to get pregnant Y/N”

“Well no shit Ushijima, but i am now!” you yelled feeling more and more nauesous by the minute “But its fine. I guess if you want to go out and frollic around poland with your volleyballs and your europeans then fine! Ill stay here with this baby and do it all without y-”

You didn’t finish your sentence because everything got black and you felt your head thudding against the ground. Ushijima panicked, he already felt bad at the way things went about but now seeing you all knocked out on the floor definitely worried him and when he looked at you laying there, he actually noticed the change in your body that the pregnancy actually did to you and then he felt more worried, since you are actually pregnant with his baby.

He rushed to the hospital, praying that you and the baby are all right and he was there by your side as the doctor did a ultrasound on you as you were still knocked out (lets just pretend you hit your head so much you really got knocked out) and Ushijima didn’t really know what to do.

You eventually woke up, and you were in a hospital room. When you fully opened your eyes you felt a massive pang to your head and you felt like you were going to be sick. Ushijima was at your sides and he looked like he had been crying.

“Y/N, I'm so sorry” Ushijima said leaning towards you with sadness in his eyes “Im really sorry, for everything I said and done.”

“What happened?” you asked still a bit confused and out of it.

“You fainted and hit your head” he said “but your okay and the baby is okay. Our baby is okay.”

You sighed in relief and slightly smiled internally, “I am really sorry Y/N,” he said again.

“It’s fine Ushijima, I understand everything. You’ve got to follow your dreams and those dreams don’t include me..”

“No!” he said pretty loudly shocking both you and himself “I know what i said earlier made you upset, but seeing you faint and having to rush you to the hospital made me feel sick, especially knowing you were carrying our baby. But when the doctor told me that both you and the baby were okay, it made me feel something I never felt before and seeing that little figure on the screen was the best feeling in the world better then winning a volleyball game, better then going to poland.”

“But what about your of-”

“I’ve already called and said I'm denying, I’ll be staying here with you...if you’ll have me of course?” he said more like a question, still unsure on how you really felt about him right now after the argument you just had. But you were elated, you threw yourself into his arms and just cried you were overwhelmed by all the events that happened today but Ushijima saying he does want you and his baby made things better.

After Ushijima calmed you down, you said “Ok I still am a bit mad that you kept the volleyball offer from me for 5 months especially when it’s so impactful. And I’m glad that your as happy about this baby as I am. But you do need to know that this baby needs to be your top priority, it needs to be the most important thing in your life, more than volleyball. Okay?”

“Of course, you and our baby are my top priority Y/N, believe me on that. I don’t think anything will make me feel as good as you both do, including volleyball” he said leaning down to put his hand on your stomach to kiss your forehead making you smile.

Ushijima stuck to his statement that nothing will make him feel as good as you and your baby do. Because 3 years later, at the olympic games, when Ushijima slammed the ball down to get the winning point the usual burning hand in his palm and the sad looks on his opponents faces which were the usual things that made Ushijima feel good did nothing for him anymore. But when he looks into the stands to see you and his 3 year old son there yelling “thats my daddy! Hi daddy!” with you cheering him on too, it brought on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen Ushijima give in public.

After the olympics ended and Ushijima was doing his post olympic game an interviewer asked “So Ushijima, you’ve done it all won an olympic title had kid, got married? So whats next?”

To which Ushijima replied “I don’t know maybe expanding the family, I do want my own volleyball team after all” he said looking directly at you giving you a wink.

General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi, @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson @kayleighbeccaa @dearkousei @bakugouswh0r3 @xedspirits @borpcorp @soft-angel-clouds @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus s @random-734 @rinyx @rybunie @cant-think-of-a-username @kuroohoeee @kellesvt @jojowantstocry @shinsouscatpisssmell @succulentmom @crystal-lilac @jihyunieeee @mysterystarz @flushphoria @tetsunarin @joyaphoria @elektrosonix @maizumis @fandomsgotmefucked @drageonix22 @uwu-queen-420 @crapimahuman @tesoromia [join the taglist here]

AN: I don’t know how I feel about this one, AT ALL lol but ummm yeah I hope you enjoy

#signedwithane😌#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu headcanons #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu angst #ushijima x reader #ushijima angst #ushijima fluff #ushijima scenarios #ushijima headcanons #ushijima imagine

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princesscatherinemiddleton · 3 years

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HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY CATHERINE

It’s time to get deep and soppy so watch out. There are not enough words in the world to describe what Catherine means to me. I adore this woman. When I was younger, I used to steal my grandparents copy of the Daily Mail and read the Amanda Platell page about Waity Katie. Did I ever think she’d end up marrying William? No. Did I really know who William was? Also no. My knowledge of the royal family was the Queen and the future King Charles. But I knew Kate. I watched her be a girlfriend. I watched as the world rejoiced when she split from William - he could finally get with someone worthy of him. And I was upset, because if she wasn’t Prince William’s girlfriend, I’d never see Kate again. But then they got back together. And the engagement rumours started. And one day I woke up and came home from school and heard that they were engaged and my Kate - my little Waity Katie - was wearing a hideous engagement ring and an equally hideous blue dress.

I’ve spoken before - at some considerable length - about the wedding. The fact everyone was talking about it at school in the lead up. The fact my family came round for a party on the wedding day. The way I sat as close to the TV as I could to see her dress. The way that before April 29th 2011 I had always dreamed of eloping if I got married and after I wanted a cathedral wedding. And Kate stayed in my life. During her Canada tour, I remember discussing whether or not she was pregnant because - shock - she drank water at an engagement instead of alcohol. We had to write about an inspirational figure at school and I wrote about Kate. At the end of 2011, when the Daily Mail made those little magazines about the fashion of the Duchess of Cambridge in her first year as a royal, I took them from my grandparents house and I kept them in the drawer of my desk so I could look at them again and again. AND I DIDN’T EVEN REALISE HOW MUCH I LIKED HER.

I kept watching. I watched her tours. I looked at her dresses and fell in love with some hideous things. I remember her pregnancy with George being announced. I remember the excitement of George’s birth. I remember beginning to stalk royal blogs on here because why would there be royal blogs? This is where I came to talk about Harry Potter and Doctor Who and secretly look at pictures of Taylor Swift. I would stalk Jess and Bella and Charlotte. I remember Kate’s second pregnancy being announced. But by then I was ill and I was so deep in activism I was making myself even worse. I was Kate-watching a lot less because how could I focus on something so trivial when women are paid less than men and people are being discriminated against based on their skin colour? I spent the last year of my A Levels in and out of hospital and I barely ate during my first year of uni. I tried to unalive myself - more than once. I was in bed, recovering from one of those moments, when Charlotte was born and it pulled me out of my slump. I argued with someone who said her name was too old-fashioned because she was named after her grandparents (so am I, it’s normal babes). And I got out of bed. I made this blog. I lurked some more. I watched posts appear about Sofia and Carl Philip’s wedding and went “oh, there are other royal families”. And then I went all in.

For a long time, I was very much a lurker. I reblogged posts. I read. I learnt. I watched Kate. I learnt about her fashion. And, for the first time, I learnt about her interests and the causes she worked for. I began to look at what I really wanted to do with my life. It really shaped my focus on to young people and their mental health. I became more interested in art. I refound my childhood love of tennis. And when my therapist asked me to write a letter about my life to someone who I respected, I wrote to Kate. And then I posted it. And she replied.

I have watched Catherine go from a baby royal, who felt very much in shadows, despite the media focus, to a bonafide future Queen. I remember watching the early projects which she worked on - MPact and supporting the Treehouse hospice - and how they’ve developed. The PRIDE I felt when Heads Together launched was immense and watching it come together over a year - from the initial video, to the documentaries, to the marathon. My absolute obsession with Catherine’s garden and how it made me fall back in love with gardening, which has been a true lifesaver for me the past few years. The Hold Still project, her Early Years work, her neuroscience focus - I’m so proud and even if it hasn’t helped anyone else, it’s made me a better person.

When Catherine went in to labour with Louis, I was in uni, writing my dissertation. I spent my day in the library, writing an essay, while simultaneously making text posts. I watched Louis appear for the first time on my phone in a toilet cubicle. I spent the next few days moaning about how long it took them to give us his name - and then I was SO disappointed when they announced it (fun fact, I was back in the library when it came out). When Harry married Meghan, I took a day trip home because I was at the stage in my life where I could do that. I’ve run two fundraisers for Catherine’s patronages in the past year and raised over £2500. I started a podcast with Jess (side note, listen to On Heir). Following Catherine has changed my life, in the smallest ways (I too dress like a 40 year old housewife) to much larger ones. Childhood mental health is my passion. I’ve made friends; I still stalk royal blogs in my spare time haha. I care so much about Catherine and her family and she means more to me than any other “famous” person. Happy happy birthday KMiddy. Thanks for everything.

#mine #royaltyedit #kate #happy 40th birthday my queen

198 notes · View notes

beauvibaby · 3 years

Text

Purple and Yellow – j.oleksiak

• Jamie Oleksiak goes through heartbreak and challenges along with his daughter but then he meets a woman who seems to catch both their hearts •

a/n: ok this is NOT proof read at all I’m sorry but I knew if I went back and did that I’d end up hating it and not wanting to post it but I know y’all wanted it so here you go!

Word Count: 6.1k

Jamie knew he was going to Seattle, and he’d be lying if he said the proposition didn’t excite him, but once his name was inked on that paper, reality came crashing in. He had to up and move his daughter, she was only three, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. But who was he kidding, everything is hard with a three year old. And how would he explain that they wouldn’t be able to visit mommy every weekend, just like they did every weekend since. That’s all that plagued his mind as he drove home from the airport, Ivy was waiting for him, but he knew she’d succumb to her sleepiness before he could get there. His parents already texting him with a picture of her half asleep on the couch.

Then, the cars on the other side of the road slammed on their brakes, the sound of tires spinning out made everything come rushing back.

“Is this the father of Ivy Oleksiak?” Jamie didn’t even have a chance to speak before the words came across the phone, “yes, who’s speaking?” Jamie replied, heart rate picking up at the soft sigh the woman let out. “Your daughter and Miss Cora Hadley were brought into Medical City from a car accident scene.” All she said were those words before he was rushing to his feet, “are they ok?” He asked quickly, never getting a pair of shoes on so quickly in his life. “Sir, I’m not–“ “Bullshit! Is my baby and my fiancé ok?” He snapped, based on the way she whimpered, a rather young woman on the other end of the line. “Your daughter will be fine, just some scratches, the car seat did it’s job.” She spoke slowly, her breath hitching. “I think it’s best you get here as quickly as possible.” She spoke carefully, and in that moment Jamie’s heart fell to his feet like an anchor, he could feel his stomach twisting and his eyes burning. He knew what those words meant. Then he thought of Ivy and that snapped him out of his daze, he had to get there, now.

Jamie pulled into his driveway safely this night, parking beside his parents car, a sigh escaping his lips, forcing the terrible memories from two and a half years ago away. He gathered his bags, and lugged them inside, smiling at his family all asleep in the living room. That made him forget that oh so familiar ache in his chest just a little bit more. He put his bags in the corner, those could wait, but right now all he needed was to hold his baby girl. He scooped Ivy up, smiling as she fluttered her eyes open just enough to see him. “Daddy.” She murmured, “hi bug.” He inhaled the scent of her toddler shampoo, his mom always taking care of her hair the best, brushing the detangler through the unruly hair she got from her father. “Sleep with you.” Ivy whined when he started heading for her room, normally he didn’t give in, not wanting her to be dependent on him to sleep, but he needed her tonight too. “Just tonight princess.” He gave in, bringing her to his room with him, where she fell asleep instantly when he placed her on the plush bed.

Jamie laid awake, staring at the ceiling for a little while, thinking of how he would tell Ivy about having to move. “I hope you’re proud of me.” He whispered out, his tears staying pooled in his eyes as he forced himself to calm down. “Sleep daddy.” Ivy complained, nuzzling closer to him. “Hold me.”

“Jamie.” Cora whispered, hoping he was awake despite the late hour, he grunted in response, being a light sleeper ever since he found out Cora was pregnant. “Hold me.” She demanded with a light tone, her back aching and stomach bulging as Ivy kicked around in there. Jamie blindly opened his arms for her, letting her settle into his chest. “Always.” He murmured, already half asleep as she sighed in content.

“Come here baby girl.” Jamie murmured at Ivy, letting her rest her head upon his chest, Ivy was a very cuddly little girl, the second she was comfortable with you, she’d be sitting in your lap and telling you stories and anything to be touching you. It was one of Jamie’s favorite things, especially when he came home from a roadie and all she wanted was to be held by him.

***

“Daddy!” Ivy called, she managed to climb onto the bathroom counter to brush her teeth but now she was too scared to get down, “daddy!” She shrieked again, Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he quickly took in his surroundings, “daddy, I stuck!” Ivy called, this time sounding annoyed by his lack of response. He threw the blanket off as he knew where she was stuck, this was a common occurrence. He appeared in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest, “and just what do you think you’re doing?” Jamie asked his daughter as she made grabby hands for him, she grinned brightly at him, “I brushed my teeth!” She answered in a duh tone, she grabbed his face once he scooped her up, kissing the tip of his nose, and he the same to her, “I’m very happy you brushed your teeth, Ivy, but you know you’re not supposed to get on the counter, that’s why we got you a stool, remember?” He explained, for easily the tenth time in the past month. “I know.” She huffed, dramatically pushing her hair back, making Jamie chuckle as he walked down the stairs, hearing his parents talking in the kitchen.

“Well, good morning sleepy heads.” Alison teased as Ivy gasped at the sight of pancakes on the counter, Jamie shook his head with a smile, placing her on the seat beside his dad, “I’ll make you a special plate.” Richard quipped to the little girl, which really just meant drawing a smiley face on it with whip cream. “Thanks mom.” Jamie gave his mom a kiss on the cheek before shuffling around to get his coffee, desperately needing the sleep kicked out of his system. “When are you going to tell her?” Alison asked, taking a small bite of her food, giving her son the side eye when he hesitated. “Today.” He gave in, knowing he absolutely had to start packing now, otherwise it would never be done in time. “So, Ivy, do you have any plans for today?” Alison shifted her attention to her granddaughter, figuring they could take her out to do something so he could get more done. “Gonna go see momma!” She cheered, some syrup smeared around her mouth.

Jamie froze, it was Saturday already, he checked his phone and felt humiliated that he had forgotten his promise to take Ivy to the cemetery. Evidently the panic was written across his face when both his parents stared at him. “Why don’t grandma and I bring you? We haven’t been there in a while.” Richard offered, rubbing Ivy’s back when she looked to Jamie for permission. “I think that would be nice, right baby?” Jamie finally found his voice, and Ivy nodded brightly, anytime she got with her grandparents was cherished. “Daddy coming to?” She asked, tilting her head as he sipped on his coffee, “I’ve got some work to do, alright, I’ll go next time.” He assured her, shooting his dad a thankful look as he quickly changed the subject before she could pester on any further.

“Ivy, I need to talk to you.” Jamie announced, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to do it and be done. Alison nearly choked on her coffee and Richard looked at his empty plate like it was suddenly the most interesting thing. Ivy nodded, munching away on her pancakes, not understanding the severity of what was about to be said.

Jamie cleared his throat and pulled out the chair beside her, “you know how I had to go away to this new place for work, yeah?” He reminded her, “Seattle.” He said, and she nodded, “Seattle.” She repeated, not entirely perfect but good enough. “I got a job over there.” He spoke, waiting to see what she thought. “Hockey?” She asked, confusion lacing her tone. “Yes, still hockey.” Jamie chuckled softly, “it’s with a new team.” He paused, glancing away for a second, “we have to move there.” He concluded. Ivy nodded slowly, “new house?” She asked, she might be young, but she knew that moving meant not in this house. “Yeah, new house, new city, new people.” Jamie explained, panicking when she went wide eyed, “what about uncle Ro-Ro?” Ivy asked, referring to Miro, she was closest to the young defenseman as she always saw him beside her dad on the ice. The nickname had been dubbed upon him when she was learning to speak and liked to repeat things. “We can visit, baby.” Jamie spoke softly, heart breaking as she began to sniffle. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, he knew the realization was coming. “But Momma!” She sobbed.

And that completely shattered his heart.

“I know.” He picked her up, feeling her sob into his neck, “momma.” She whimpered, though she didn’t remember her, Jamie made sure to keep her an important part of her life. Ivy didn’t know that she loved going to a gravestone that much until this moment. “Hey, look at me, bug.” Jamie demanded gently, situating her to be in front of him. He sat her on the countertop and stood in front of her, “momma will always be with us, right? Isn’t that what I always say?” He explained to her. Ivy nodded slowly, she was so young but always acting older, trying to wrap her head around this. “Yeah.” She mumbled sheepishly, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she felt shy under the gaze of her grandparents. “It’s alright, daddy’s sad too.” He assured her, lowering his head to be eye level with her. She stared into his eyes, reminding him so much of Cora in that moment, and once again she kissed the tip of his nose. “No sad daddy.” She demanded, drumming her fingers on his cheek. He pecked her forehead, “alright baby.” He agreed, if she could do it, so could he, right?

***

Ivy slept the whole plane ride, which is what Jamie was hoping for as they would be meeting the moving truck at the new house, plenty of things to be done asap.

“Come on Ivy.” Jamie mumbled, carrying her off the plane as she groggily woke up, looking around slightly confused until she remembered what was going on today. “Daddy, Seattle?” She asked, lifting her head from his shoulder, he chuckled, lowering her so she wasn’t so high up on his chest. “Yeah, Seattle baby.” He assured her, her pigtails bouncing as she looked around rapidly. He smiled at her reaction to the airport alone.

“What do you think, Ivy?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows as the three year old spun to face him. “Love it!” She squealed, her room was twice as big in this place than her bedroom in Dallas, and Jamie told her she could pick whatever color (within reason) to have her walls painted. Of course she would love it here. Jamie looked around their new-but-empty-house one more time, sighing as he could picture Ivy growing older in this house.

Time to make it a home.

“Hi.” Ivy grinned up at one of the movers as he placed a stack of boxes in her room, Jamie just being outside the door heard her speaking, he raised an eyebrow waiting to hear the guy speak. “Hello.” The young guy spoke sweetly, chuckling at the little girl. “I’m three.” She spoke, “how old are you?” She asked, Jamie held in a snicker as he walked in. “Ivy, leave him alone, bug.” He laughed softly, the guy taking it as his excuse to go get more boxes. “Ugh.” She huffed, flopping down on her bed dramatically, Jamie rolled his eyes, looking around. “What color do you want?” He asked the opinionated little girl, he sat beside her, smiling as she stood next to him, being eye level with him. “Hmm, purple!” She gasped, looking around the currently beige room, Jamie nodded slowly, “light purple.” He countered, knowing she would want to choose the darkest shade. “Fine.” She giggled, “we can go tomorrow, alright? Today we need to focus on finding all your stuff.” He tickled her sides.

***

Ivy was tugging on Jamie’s hand, somehow spotting the paint section quicker than he could. “Slow down!” He laughed heartily, his daughter shooting him a glare as he purposely slowed his feet down. He hoisted Ivy up to see the purple swatches along the top row, she reached for a dark one, just like Jamie knew she would. He sighed, “Ivy, we agreed on light purple, what about this one?” He offered, grabbing a lavender type color, she grunted in disgust, shaking her head dramatically, her blonde curls hitting his face. “Love this one.” She pouted, holding it in front of his face.

Jamie held in a sigh as you walked past him, stopping to look at paint swatches as well. “What about this one?” Jamie compromised, it was darker than he wanted to go, but still light enough to not feel like a dungeon. Ivy’s lip began to quiver, quickly catching both Jamie and the woman’s attention. “Ivy.” Jamie sighed softly, you intervened, “you know, I wanted a dark purple room when I was your age too.” You spoke to Ivy, catching her attention as she lifted her head, Jamie shifting slightly, giving you a smile. “My dad wouldn’t let me do it.” You made a face, getting a giggle out of Ivy, “he was right though, but guess what we compromised?” You mused, holding your hand out for the paint swatches that Jamie had. He handed them over with ease, “we painted one wall, dark, the wall I had my bed on, and the rest we did light.” You explained, Jamie giving Ivy a bright smile when she looked at him like it was the greatest idea ever. “We can do that, Ivy.” He agreed, and you giggled, “glad I could be of help.” You added.

“Thank you,” Jamie paused, waiting for a name. “Y/N.” You told him, smiling at the pair, “and your name is?” You asked, already figuring the little girl's name was Ivy. “Jamie.” He introduced himself. “What are you painting?” Ivy asked boldly, not one to talk much around new people, Jamie set her down so she could look at other colors, amused by her sudden interest. “I’m painting my dining room.” You answered, squatting down to her level, “do you have any color suggestions?” You asked Ivy. Jamie gave you a look that said you really don’t have to entertain her but you just gave him a smile. “Yellow.” Ivy announced, looking at the wall and grabbing actually, a very nice swatch, it was just yellow enough. You tilted your head as you looked at it, imagining it in your space. “That’s a very pretty color, Ivy.” You told her, smiling brightly as she blushed, handing you the color sample. “Thank you, Y/N.” She spoke politely, even though the words didn’t come out perfectly, it was a great attempt. “You’re welcome.” You stood to your full height, shocking Jamie by walking over to the counter to order the paint, no hesitation that a random little girl picked it out.

“You don’t have to-“ Jamie started to say, but you shrugged, giving him a happy smile, “I just got a new place, a fresh start, yellow seems fitting.” You told him. Jamie gave you a lopsided smile, if only you knew he was doing the same. “Daddy, this ones.” Ivy gasped, giving him two swatches, he chuckled at her grammar, squatting down to her level, “you’re sure?” He asked, he knew after all it was just paint, and if it turned out so terrible, they could paint over it but he didn’t want to have to do this twice. “This one looks like momma's dress!” Ivy explained, Jamie looked at the dark purple in his hand, instantly remembering Cora in that dress, Ivy’s favorite picture of her that she kept in her room. Suddenly her color choice made sense, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop, your heart stopping at Jamie’s next words. “Yeah, I think momma would have loved this.”

Was she… dead? You tried to knock the thought from your head, they were so young, but you knew accidents happened. You quickly looked away as Jamie stood back up, “here you go ma’am.” The teenager behind the counter spoke, you took the gallon from him, shooting him a smile. “Have a good day.” You told him, offering Jamie and Ivy a wave. “Will I see you again?” Ivy asked, Jamie nearly had heart failure right there as you stopped and giggled. “Oh I don’t know sweetheart, Seattle is a really big city. But don’t you worry, if I ever see you out and about I’ll be sure to say hello.” You assured her, watching as she got all giddy and slightly hid behind her father again. “Bye.” You told him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling any wider. “Bye, Y/N.” He mumbled, seeming a little dazed as he made his way up to the counter.

***

It had been nearly a week in the new house, the walls were done, almost everything was unpacked and they were starting to feel a sense of normalcy. Jamie loved the neighborhood they ended up in, a true mix of all different people, yes their house was rather large, but it was still homey. The community was sprawling, having a little bit of everything, stand alone homes, townhomes, even some condos, there were plenty of kids around which made him feel good about his choice as he followed Ivy down the road as she rode her bike. “Slow down, Ivy.” Jamie cautioned as she was getting a good bit ahead of him, she huffed dramatically and slowed down, waiting for him to catch up. She was looking around at the houses, confused as to why they were attached, even though Jamie had explained it to her plenty of times. Ivy gasped so loudly, that you could hear it from your front lawn where you were spray painting a piece of furniture. You glanced over and did a double take.

There was absolutely no way, you refused to believe you were actually seeing this, then you saw Jamie and you were convinced the universe either loved you for letting you see him again, or hated you, as you were in ratty old painting clothes.

“Ivy!” You grinned, laughing when the little girl flew off her bike, letting it fall sideways, making Jamie groan, “hi Y/N!” She squealed running up your lawn. You smiled brightly as she hugged your leg, “Ivy.” Jamie called, giving you an apologetic smile but you shrugged it off. “Did you paint your room?” You asked the little girl as she pulled away, a pink tint to her cheeks, she nodded, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytail. “Yay, that’s great!” You cheered, Jamie walked up behind her, “hi, Y/N. How are you?” He asked, his daughter leaning back against his legs as you two spoke. “Good, been busy making this place my own.” You laughed, motioning to the small townhome behind you. It was your first solo place, and you absolutely adored it, even if it needed some work. “Yeah, you always forget how much work it is moving into a new place.” He agreed, chuckling softly. “Did you do yellow?” Ivy asked, rocking on her feet. “I did.” You assured her, “would you two like to go in and see it?” You asked, cringing internally as you waited to look up at Jamie. “Sure.” He answered, grabbing his daughter's hand, following you inside.

You led them to the dining room, giggling as Ivy gasped, “so pretty!” She cheered, the yellow paid off, it made the space feel much more happy. “All because of you.” You told her, she asked if she could look at the pictures you had sitting on the entry table and you gave her a quick nod, giving you and Jamie a chance to talk. “Same neighborhood? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were stalking me.” You teased him lightly, getting a hearty chuckle out of him. “It is quite the coincidence.” He agreed, he felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time since he had met Cora.

It absolutely terrified him.

***

It had been a few weeks since that day, and you’d seen Ivy outside playing with another woman, Jamie not to be seen. You came out to grab your mail as she went riding by, “hi, Y/N!” She called, continuing to pedal away. “Hi, Ivy.” You spoke, you went over and introduced yourself to the girl, Taylor, finding out she was her babysitter. “Jamie must go out pretty often.” You commented to her, she shook her head, “oh no, he never goes anywhere without Ivy aside from work.” Taylor told you, “he plays hockey, I'm surprised you didn’t know that.” Taylor added, smiling as Ivy came up to the two of you. “We should be going, it’s almost dinner time.” Taylor spoke, she couldn’t be older than 20. You gave them both a smile, “yes! You don’t want to miss that.” You chuckled, bidding them a goodbye before going inside and googling Jamie.

What you found shocked you.

Jamie Oleksiak taking personal time to mourn loss of fiancé.

Jamie Oleksiak, will he be able to balance a professional career and a baby?

Will he bounce back from this?

You clicked the first article, bracing yourself as it loaded.

The date was from almost three years ago, you scrolled down and began to read…

Jamie Oleksiak has announced the sudden passing of his fiancé, Cora Hadley. Together they shared a daughter Ivy, who was also involved in the incident, she is expected to make a complete recovery.

A close friend tells us it was a severe car accident.

Our condolences to the family.

You clicked away from the article as tears burned your eyes. That was terrible. You read some of the other articles and only grew mad at how the reporters belittled his pain, only talking of how poorly his game play had been since then. And though you’d never wish that kind of loss on anyone, you know they wouldn’t be writing like that if they had felt it.

***

You and Jamie exchanged numbers, citing that it was for “neighborhood emergencies” you giggled at the thought as he was currently asking you what he should get Cora for the upcoming Christmas.

She’s the pickiest three year old ever, everyone always tells me that.

Well, what does the pickiest three year old ever like to do?

She’s either riding her bike and getting absolutely filthy or she’s inside playing dress up and being a little princess

Princess car?

They make those?!?

Oh, Jamie, I really need to take you shopping 🤦‍♀️

Tell me when and I’ll be there…

You tell me hot shot, you’re the one that plays hockey for a living.

How did you find out?

Google is a powerful thing… just kidding, Taylor told me.

Of course she did

Saturday afternoon? My parents will be in town and they want to take Ivy out for the day, so it’s a perfect excuse.

You know where I live, see you then!

He started typing, but then the dots went away and you never received another message.

You brushed it off, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years as you thought of merely shopping with Jamie for Christmas.

****

“You like him!” Your friend gushed to you as you spoke on the phone while getting ready, “no!” You rushed, only proving her point more. “Y/N, really.” Your friend, Amanda, spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s clearly attractive and he’s a dad! He’s not going to be a jerk that just messed around with girls! It’s great.” She rambled, you sighed, pulling your jeans on with a little jump, “his fiancé died, Amanda. He could very well not be over that yet, and I wouldn’t blame him.” You explained, she went silent, “well you left that part out, how was I supposed to know.” She mumbled sheepishly. “It was almost three years ago, their baby was only six months old.” You whispered, cursing when your doorbell rang down the stairs. “Shit, shit, I have to go Amanda!” You rushed, hanging up as soon as she said bye. You adjusted the sweater you had on as you rushed down the stairs, careful not to fall flat on your face. You grabbed your purse as you walked past the counter, yelping as you stumbled and landed on your butt. So close.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Jamie called, hearing the thud, “yes, yeah, just a second.” You called out, wincing as you stood up, that was definitely going to hurt later. You finally, finally reached the door and unlocked it, pulling it open and giving him a bright smile. “Did you fall?” He asked instantly, bursting into laughter when your face went blank. “We’re not going to talk about that Jamie.” You chastised, stepping onto your little porch to leave with him. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled, giving you a once over as you locked the door. “Is Ivy excited to be with your parents today?” You asked him, Jamie laughed under his breath, “so excited, she didn’t even care that I was going out.” He told you as he opened the passenger side door of his truck for you. “Thanks.” You mumbled as you slid in, your heart pounding in your chest. He shut the door and made his way around the truck as you adjusted in the seat.

“So, where to?”

****

Jamie was shocked and grimacing at the price of the princess car that he and you both knew Ivy would love. “Is she the type to give up on new toys quickly?” You asked, tilting your head as you both stared at the display, he shook his head as gave in. He had been leaning against the shelves and as he walked away you noticed his phone had fallen out of his pocket, you picked it up so no one would steal it as you waited for him to come back with a cart, and hopefully someone to help him with the box because it was not something you’d be much help with. His phone began to ring in your hand, the contact flashing across the top said mom, you let it ring, you’d tell him as soon as he came back. As soon as it stopped it was ringing again, you panicked and swiped to answer it, worried that something had happened to Ivy. “Hello?” You spoke into the phone, hearing Ivy wailing in the background. Fuck.

“Who is this?” His mother rushed, “I’m Y/N, Jamie forgot his phone he’s walking around the store– is everything alright?” You asked, cutting straight to the point, “no, we’re going to the emergency room, Ivy fell at the park and I think she broke her arm.” His mother rushed, and thankfully you saw Jamie approaching, “Jamie!” You shouted, rushing over, he furrowed his eyebrows seeing you on his phone.

“It’s your mom.” You rushed, giving it to him and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he listened to her speak over Ivy crying. “Shit, alright I’ll meet you there.” He told her, shooting you an apologetic look. “Go.” You assured him, he shook his head grabbing your hand and pulling you along, he wasn’t going to leave you stranded in a department store. “Sorry, he’ll purchase it another day!” You called to the employee who had a blank look on his face. “Let me talk to Ivy.” Jamie demanded after his mom had said something else, “daddy, it hurts!” Ivy got out between cries as his mother held the phone to her ear. “I know, princess. I’ll be there soon alright? I promise.” He assured her, finally releasing your hand as he realized he’d been holding it this whole time.

He managed to get off the phone so he could drive to the hospital, repeatedly apologizing for you being stuck with him and that this happened. “I was going to take you to lunch and ugh I’m just sorry.” You raised an eyebrow at his ramblings as you guys got stuck at a red light less than a mile from the hospital. “Jamie, stop apologizing. She’s your daughter, she always comes first, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” You soothed him, he glanced over at you, nodding softly, “reschedule the lunch?” He asked, despite the panic in his head, he still wanted to make sure you saw that he was interested in you.

“Yeah, we can reschedule, let’s just go see your baby.” You leaned over the center console, kissing his cheek as the light changed, doing a little happy dance in your head at how he blushed deeply at your actions.

“Family only.” The nurse remarked as you were about to follow Jamie to the room Ivy was in. He gave her an incredulous look, “it’s fine, go.” You assured him, pulling away from him to stay in the waiting room. He hesitated but went along, disappearing behind the doors as you picked a seat in the corner, making sure you had a sight line to the doors he went through. Over an hour went by as you sat there, scrolling through your phone, not hearing from Jamie, which you assumed was because he was being bombarded with questions of the girl who answered his phone, while also dealing with Ivy who was not going to enjoy the process of getting a cast.

Your phone chimed with a text just as you had finally decided to get off of it,

Finishing up now, sorry if my parents are a lot

You chuckled at the message, making sure you had all your items, including the little stuffy you’d bought at the hospital gift shop during your time sitting here. You stood up as you saw them walking out, Ivy draped over Jamie’s chest, half asleep with her head on his shoulder. “Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you.” His mom spoke, offering her hand, you repeated the sentiment, as well as with his dad. “Ivy.” You whispered, placing a hand on her back, holding the small stuffed animal in your hand, “I got you a little gift for being such a big brave girl.” You mumbled, she shifted to look at you with her puffy eyes, and pout settled deep on her lips, “thanks.” She whispered, taking it and holding it close to her chest, she kept her eyes on you as you walked behind Jamie, keeping up a conversation with his parents. And he was right, they were kind of a lot, but you pushed through, smiling when Ivy finally fell asleep in the car.

You sat in the back with Ivy, Jamie insisting you didn’t have to but you wanted to. “She handled it pretty well.” Jamie commented as he glanced back to see her asleep with her hand in yours. “She’s a tough little thing.” You agreed, glancing over at him, he gave you a heartwarming smile. “Thanks for coming with me today, I know it didn’t go to plan, but it was nice, you know… before she broke her arm.” He trailed off, pulling into your driveway to drop you off. You carefully pulled your hand from Ivy’s, she didn’t budge as she was exhausted from today.

Jamie got out to say goodbye, surprising you with a quick kiss to the cheek and a promise of that lunch date.

***

“Did some research?” You asked teasingly as Jamie took you to your favorite restaurant, you gave him a sideways glance as he parked the truck, “I may have had some assistance.” He shrugged, making you realize that’s why Ivy was grilling you the other day, when you had offered to watch her since Taylor was unavailable. “You two are trouble.” You quipped, watching him slip out wordlessly before opening your door for you. “But I’m a gentleman.” He reminded you, “a very good one at that.” You agreed, steadying yourself with his shoulders when you hoped down. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He declared, had you not wanted to kiss him so badly you would have teased him for the nervousness in his voice, but you simply looped your arms around his neck and let him sweep you off your feet with a wonderful first kiss.

The first of many.

***

Two months, and many, many, sneaky dates and stolen kisses later…

You were over at Jamie’s house, having dinner with him and Ivy, you and Jamie had gone out here and there, but most of your time was spent together with Ivy, and that’s what told him that you were the girl he needed to hang on to. Jamie wanted to take tonight to explain to Ivy that you two were dating, but he was scared, petrified even, that she would become upset and confused. You kept telling him nothing had to be done yet if he wasn’t ready, but he was, he swore he was.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked Ivy, dinner was long gone and you were playing a game of twenty questions, she wasn’t entirely aware of that but she was having fun nonetheless. “Purple! Like my mommas.” She declared, you gave her a smile, glancing over at Jamie to see how he handled it. Many conversations had happened between you two about the loss of Cora, you never wanted to rush him, and as he only gave Ivy a proud smile, you could tell he was truly ready to start the next chapter of his life again. You liked to think Cora was proud of him, for choosing you to be in their life.

“What’s yours?” Ivy countered back, giving you an inquisitive look, the closer she got to age four, the more like Jamie she seemed, and it always made you chuckle. “Yellow.” You told her, watching as she grinned, Jamie winked at you as you turned sheepish under their gaze. “Because of me?” Ivy gasped. “Yes, because of you.” You giggled, welcoming her hug when she bounced over to you. “Ivy, do you know what it means when people are dating?” Jamie asked his daughter as she stayed seated on your lap, she rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. “No but you said I’m not allowed to do that.” She spoke in a serious tone, sending you into a hysterical fit of laughter, not expecting her to be so blunt. Jamie tried not to but he joined you with a deep laugh, tipping his head back as Ivy grew impatient. “Ok, besides that.” Jamie cleared his throat, “when I say I’m dating someone that means that I really really like them and I want them to be part of our life.” He explained as best he could, you smiled from behind her at his words. Encouraging him to go on.

“Y/N and I are dating.” He spoke officially, you both held your breath as you waited for her reaction, she turned and looked at you, and then back to her dad. “You love her!” Ivy grinned, sending Jamie wide eyed and you into a wide smile as he blushed, “you love my daddy!” Ivy gasped turning to you, now he was the one grinning as you opened and closed your mouth trying to find the words to say. You gave her a nod, “well, it’s a bit more complicated than that when you’re our age, but yes.” You agreed with her, Jamie grabbed your hand from across the table, giving it a squeeze as Ivy climbed off your lap and started dancing around.

This had gone so much better than he had hoped.

When he was tucking her in that night while you were waiting for him on the couch, she said a few words that made him one hundred percent sure that everything was going the way it should, and that Cora even played a hand in this. “Can I have two favorite colors daddy?” Ivy asked, looking up at him sleepily as he pulled the blanket up her body, she was clinging to the stuffy you’d bought her. “Of course, bug.” He assured her, thinking that was that, but as he kissed her forehead she said, “purple and yellow are my favorites.” By the time he pulled his head back, her eyes were shut and her breathing was evening out. “Yeah, I think those are my favorites too.” He whispered.

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

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PART 1

Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”

You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”

“It’s vegan, I think.”

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”

He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.

“So--do you think it went well?”

You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”

The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.

It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.

Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.

“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”

Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”

A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.

Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.

Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.

His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.

She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.

So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.

Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.

CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”

“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.

“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”

The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.

“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”

You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.

His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”

You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”

You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.

Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.

He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”

Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”

“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.

Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.

“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”

You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”

“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.

“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."

You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.

It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.

And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.

But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.

So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.

Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.

“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.

Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”

“Unfortunately,” you nodded.

Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.

A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”

“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”

You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.

“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”

You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”

“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”

Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.

“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”

“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.

“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”

“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.

Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.

Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”

“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”

“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”

“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.

“Harry Styles.”

Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”

“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”

“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”

“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”

“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”

“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”

“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”

You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.

Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”

Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.

“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.

“Like, two weeks. Tops.”

“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”

“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”

You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.

Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”

“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.

“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.

“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.

“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.

“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”

“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.

“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”

He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”

“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.

A text message the next day when you were at work:

Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇

You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.

Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.

Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.

“What’s the sigh for?”

“Jeff is being annoying.”

“What’d he do now?”

You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.

She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.

“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.

“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”

“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”

“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.

It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.

“So a celebrity?�� she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”

“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.

“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.

“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”

“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”

Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.

“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”

“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.

“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”

“Why not?”

“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”

“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”

You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”

“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”

“Two weeks.”

“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”

“What? No!”

“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”

She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.

He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.

You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”

She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”

You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.

But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.

Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.

Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.

“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”

You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.

Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.

Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.

You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.

A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.

But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.

Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.

A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.

“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.

“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”

“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.

“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.

“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”

Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.

“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”

You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”

He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”

“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.

“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”

“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.

“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”

“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”

You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.

This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.

Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.

The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”

Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.

CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.

“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”

Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”

You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.

“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.

“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.

“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.

“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.

“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”

“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”

“I’m grateful for pudding.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.

Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”

“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.

“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.

CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”

“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.

“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.

“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”

“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”

“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.

“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.

“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.

“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.

Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.

They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.

You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.

But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.

“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.

“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.

“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.

“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.

Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”

“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”

Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”

“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”

“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.

“And you guys will be good for him.”

This got your attention. “How so?”

“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”

“So I’m babysitting him?”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”

You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.

You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.

When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.

He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.

“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”

He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”

“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.

But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.

He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.

You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.

He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.

You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”

“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”

“Thanks,” he nodded again.

“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”

Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.

“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”

A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.

“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”

“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.

“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”

“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.

“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”

He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.

“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“When did you move in here?”

“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”

He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.

“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”

“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”

“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.

That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”

He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”

You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”

Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”

You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.

“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”

He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.

Two weeks, tops.

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

Text

Chapter 9: Plans

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[masterlist]

“Hey, love. I saw this Tiktok...” You sigh heavily as you hear the words come out of Kuroo’s mouth. Every time he shows you a video from that app, he follows it up with a, “let’s do it.”

“What is it this time?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, expressing your disagreement already. You’ve been peacefully relaxing on the bed and your husband really wants to destroy that peace of yours.

“So you rate my exes, and I rate yours. Out of 10,” Kuroo says and you squint your eyes at him in suspicion. There has to be something behind the sudden interest in remaking it.

“Why?” is all you can say at his request.

Kuroo shrugs, a smug look on his face. “Why not?”

He takes out his laptop and opens a social media platform. Placing his laptop on his lap, he pats the space beside him, a sign that he wants you beside him. You sit beside him and he immediately types out a name.

“This was my first girlfriend back in middle school.” He describes and clicks on one of the girl’s posts.

“She’s so pretty. Is that her kid?” You point at the child his ex is holding in picture. Kuroo nods. “So was she nice? I have to rate her through her personality.”

“She was nice. But she left me for a college student,” Kuroo explains.

“Oh, so she’s a victim?” You snicker, and Kuroo chuckles at your statement. “A 6/10. She's pretty and she looks nice. But minus points for dating a college student while she was in middle school.”

He proceeds to search for his next ex. “I know her,” you say as soon as you see the picture. “I was the one who planned her wedding a year ago. I believe she gave birth just a month ago.”

“She did. She was my upperclassman in Nekoma when we dated. I think I was in my last year of middle school and she was graduating high school,” Kuroo elaborates and you laugh. “What?”

“You’re also a victim.” With that, Kuroo starts laughing with you. It takes some time before the two of you stop giggling like kids.

“Since I know her, a 7/10. She was really polite when I was planning her wedding,” you explain while panting, recovering from your fit of laughter.

“This is the last one,” Kuroo says as he searches and you look at him in shock, not believing him.

“You only dated thrice?” You ask him and he nods proudly. “But you did have a lot of flings so still a bad boy,” you tease and Kuroo rolls his eyes. He shows you his screen and you look at the girl in the picture intently.

You glance at him and then his ex, and then him again, then back to the screen. “You’re lying.”

“About what?”

“Are you sure you dated her?” You point at woman at the screen.

“Yes. Ask all of my friends. They’re witnesses.”

“You dated a famous idol...”

“Was an idol,” he corrects you. “She’s quitting the industry because she’s pregnant.”

“I love her group’s songs. I give her a 10/10. But I still can’t believe you managed to pull someone like her. Kenma said that you weren’t famous amongst girls in high school...” you state, remembering his best friend’s words when you had dinner together just a few nights ago.

Kuroo simply shrugs, “I guess she really liked me then.” He lays his gadget on your lap, waiting for you to type in. You become nervous. How are you supposed to tell him that you’ve only dated seriously once in your life? And it’s someone he sees quite often in your workplace.

“I only dated once,” you tell him calmly, trying to conceal your shaky fingers as you type. Pressing enter, your eyes immediately look away. “You know him, right? He’s our cake maker at work.”

“How was he as a boyfriend?” Kuroo simply asks and you nod nonchalantly. “He seems like a nice guy whenever I see him at your office.”

“Really sweet. Baked me goods everyday and even brought me lunch boxes,” you reply rather confidently. “We dated back in high school.”

“9/10.” Kuroo rates with a pout. He knew he was going to get jealous, but he still dug his own grave for his. His plan being:

‘To subtly hint that he wants a baby.’

All of his exes now have children, and he is not competing with them at any means, but maybe you’ll get an idea about his baby fever if he shows you that most people at your age have children.

Now that his Plan A has failed, he’ll have to proceed to his Plan B.

Kuroo patiently waits for you at his car, ready for your first date after a long time. As he sings along with the song on the radio, he scrolls through his Instagram and sees Sakusa’s post about her daughter.

“Must be nice to have a kid,” Kuroo sighs. Seconds later, he realizes what he said and puts his phone down. “No. No. No. I can’t feel this way yet. It’s too early. But we’re already in our mid-20s so a kid won’t be weird. No... Does she even want kids? My kids?”

A knock on the car window disrupts his soliloquy. He turns his head to the glass and sees you waving outside. He quickly unlocks the door, allowing you to enter. “Hi, love. Who were you talking to?”

“I was talking to Kenma,” he reasons before he leans in to capture your lips into a greeting kiss. “How was work?”

“It was tiring. The Kitas sent an invitation by the way,” you answer as you pull away from him. “It’s for the triplets’ first birthday.”

“Should we buy their gifts today?” Kuroo asks you, starting the engine of the car. “I think we’ll find something while roaming around. What about you? You said you had to buy something.”

“Bikinis,” you say nonchalantly and don’t see Kuroo’s eyebrow raise from your response.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I forgot to tell you. I’m going to Okinawa with my high school friends next week. You know them, right? Makki, Mattsun, Iwa, and Oikawa,” you respond and Kuroo becomes silent, not knowing how to react. He doesn’t care that you’re going with guys, but how did you forget to tell him something important?

The ride is serene. Kuroo’s hand not leaving your thigh the whole time. Your hand is on top of his, your fingers tracing the protruded veins in his arms. Landing on his ring finger, your eyes scanned the body part. You don’t have a wedding band yet. The two of you have never thought of getting a pair.

The two of you arrive at your destination so get out of the car. Kuroo takes your hand immediately, sliding both of your hands into his jacket’s pocket. You smile at the romantic gesture, something you’re yet to get used to.

“Should we buy your stuff first?” Kuroo questions, looking down at you. Nodding, you lead him to a bikini boutique.

As soon as you enter, Kuroo closes his eyes. The store you entered doesn’t only sell bikinis, but lingerie as well. He has to keep his lids shut or his imagination will go everywhere. Noticing how wary he is about the surrounding, you smirk.

You hook a finger on his collar and pull him down. “Choose anything you’d like to see me in.”

After the not so quick shopping trip at the garment store, you have noticed how fidgety Kuroo is. He wouldn’t stop squeezing your hand and giving you cheeks kisses. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just excited to see you in this,” he reasons, lifting the paper bag with sets of lingerie he has chosen. You hum, your attention going back to the racks of baby clothing in front of you.

While you’re focused on the baby items in front of you, Kuroo is panicking. In his mind, he’s about to explode. You in lingerie + his baby fever= a kink he thought he’ll never have. He’s trying so hard not to think about your mini me’s, but seeing the tiny pieces of garments is making it hard for him.

“My love, the triplets are boys. But knowing the Kitas, they wouldn’t mind dressing up their sons in that dress you’re holding,” you point and Kuroo snaps back to his senses. He looks down and sees that he is holding onto a yellow dress with ribbons and ruffles. He didn’t even know how he got the dress on his hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly, putting the dress back on the rack. “I just thought it was cute.” You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion and he forces out a laugh. “It would look cute on Sakusa’s daughter. The two of us are kind of close.”

“Really? I always see him post about her. She would look very cute in that. Should we buy it?” Your confusion about his actions are thrown away by his reason. He sighs in relief as you look away, the dress now in his cart.

‘Our daughter would look cuter,’ Kuroo thinks and he smacks his cheek, causing you to look at him in shock. It was a rather loud and heavy smack. “Mosquito.”

His Plan B is a fail.

You’re eating lunch together the next day at your office as usual. It’s quiet before he flashes his phone screen in front of you, showing you a picture of three familiar small boys. “Look at the triplets.” You continue to eat after taking a look at the picture, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Kuroo hums happily. “Aren’t they cute?” You only nod to his question.

“Look at Sakusa’s daughter. I met her last time and she’s such a charmer,” Kuroo narrates, letting out a giggle. The interaction replaying in his head. The interaction that caused his sudden baby fever.

It was a busy day at work since the Olympic team had to take their profile and poster pictures. Kuroo was talking to Bokuto when a child suddenly latched onto the spiker’s leg.

“My favorite teammate, you’re here!” Bokuto beamed and picked the child up. As she rested in his forearm, she looked at Kuroo in curiosity. Normally, children would get scared of him, but she wasn’t, which made Kuroo happy.

“Hi. My name’s Kuroo. What’s your name?” Kuroo asked the girl. She smiled at him before answering.

“Kia! Do you have a girlfriend?” Kia asked, taking Kuroo aback. It’s not everyday that a 4 year old would ask you about your relationship status.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, but I do have a wife,” Kuroo replied, which made the little pout.

“Since you only have a wife, I can be your girlfriend,” Kia proclaimed. Kuroo smiled at her statement. The girl suddenly made him think what his daughter would be like if he ever gets to have one.

“I’m sorry but my wife would be upset if I have a girlfriend, so I can’t be your boyfriend,” Kuroo explained to her, hoping she’ll learn something from it. You could subtly teach them about what’s right and wrong at a young age.

“Then, I’ll date your child, father-in-law,” Kia claimed which Kuroo patted her head for.

“I’ll remember your words, future daughter-in-law.”

“What are you smiling for?” You ask Kuroo and he looks up to you, his attention now on you.

‘It’s now or never. This is the perfect chance.’ Kuroo thinks, placing his chin on the palm of his hand. “I was just thinking about how cute our children would be.” You ignore his words and proceed to clean up your lunch box. As result, Kuroo frowns. He mirrors your actions, keeping quiet. Maybe it was wrong to mention it.

Your secretary knocks on your door before announcing that your client is already waiting outside. Kuroo put back the chair back to its proper place before walking over behind the table to give you a quick hug. You can feel his sadness radiating off him and you’re sure it’s from your silence.

His baby fever wasn’t unnoticed. In fact, you knew about it the moment you saw him scrolling through baby videos. He wasn’t very subtle about it, too. From showing his exes, to bringing you to the baby store, to sending you pictures of babies, to mentioning children all the time, you definitely knew about his baby fever.

But you don’t want a baby yet. You had just gotten steady recently, and having a child will wreck that steadiness for sure. You want to keep him to yourself as much as you can, and a child will take your time with each other away. Yet, you don’t know how to tell him that, because he’s determined to have one as soon as possible.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll pick you up later,” Kuroo speaks. He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away. The way he turned his back at you, the way he frowned a little, it broke your heart. So you grab his hand and pull him back towards you. “Yes, my love?”

“Should we start trying for a child?” You look up to him with shaky eyes, and he saddens at your expression. He wraps his arms around you, your head falling onto his abdomen, while his hand pets the back of your head.

“Love, I’m not asking for a child immediately, so don’t get pressured. Just take my baby fever as a promise that I want to start a family with you and only you,” he reassures you, but you know he’s partly lying about it. Kuroo is a man who doesn’t give up until gets what he wants.

Kuroo’s Plan C has failed. He has no choice but to do his Plan D. (Will be posted soon 😉 if you know, you know.)

——————————————————————————

Facts:

Fevers turn on the body's immune system. They help the body fight infection. Normal fevers between 100° and 104° F (37.8° - 40° C) are good for sick children.

Fevers only need to be treated if they cause discomfort. Most fevers don't cause discomfort until they go above 102° or 103° F (39° or 39.5° C).

Most fevers from infection don't go above 103° or 104° F (39.5°- 40° C). They rarely go to 105° or 106° F (40.6° or 41.1° C). While these are "high" fevers, they also are harmless ones.

Fevers that don't come down to normal can be caused by viruses or bacteria. The response to fever medicines tells us nothing about the cause of the infection.

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #hq x reader #hq smau #kuroo tetsuro smau #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo smau

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beepboop358 · 3 years

Text

Victor Creel Theories

(also includes ST movie DNA series: Star Wars)

Victor Creel is described as "a disturbed and intimidating man who is imprisoned in a psychiatric hospital for a gruesome murder in the 1950s." We know he will be institutionalized at Penthurst mental hospital, where Peter Ballard works, based on leaked on set pics.

There a few possibilities regarding his character:

He could be a former test subject with some kind of powers and a connection to the upside down (which would also follow the even/odd season pattern of a main character being directly involved with the upside down creatures) I think it's highly likely that Victor Creel will be involved with the mystery/danger in Hawkins in some way, and have a connection to the upside down. He could also be disturbed on top of this, and he could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season.

That he is not a test subject and is ONLY mentally disturbed.

He may be related to one of the already established characters. Most likely Joyce, and maybe Terry but it's a stretch.

Before I go any further into that last possibility, I just want to preface that this idea of an "evil father/grandfather with powers" could be a purposeful Star Wars parallel. The Duffer brothers have already paralleled and used Star Wars references a few times in the show:

In Star Wars, Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father, and Palpatine is Rey's grandfather (aka the literal worst guy in the universe). A common theme in ST is abusive/bad fathers - that post here. Interesting...

Palpatine is also Anakin Skywalker's father, so Luke and Leia are both the grandkids of Palpatine as well as Rey is, but it's unclear if they are just force midichlorian related or actually dna related as well but I won't get into that here!

Luke and Rey are both force sensitive (have powers), so are Darth Vader and Palpatine; their descendants (kid/grandkid) have powers, and so do they (father/grandfather) The descendants use their powers for good, while the ancestors use their power for evil. Who has powers in ST? Eleven and Will - and they both already have this idea of abusive/bad/evil fathers: Will has an abusive father Lonnie, and Eleven has an abusive father figure Dr. Brenner "Papa".

So... Victor Creel being the evil/bad grandfather to either Eleven or Will and the evil/bad father to Joyce or Terry, would make a FULL Star Wars parallel to people who are morally good and have powers (Will and El - Luke and Rey), discovering they are the descendant of an evil male figure who also has powers (Victor Creel - Darth Vader and Palpatine)

If Victor Creel turns out to be the father of anyone in the show my bets are it's either Joyce Byers or maybeee Terry Ives.

If he was a test subject, its likely he went "crazy" with some of his powers and the government couldn't cover it up so they declare him mentally insane to get him committed, and he probably goes insane being locked away as well. Personally, I think he may be 001 or an early test subject, when they were still working out the kinks of the program, and I think he does have a big connection to the upside down.

The Duffer Brother's on s4: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything"....

Now let's get into the possibilities for Creel's storyline/who he could be related to (split into 3 parts).

Part 1: Creel could be Joyce's father

Based on Victor Creel's description as "disturbed" and that he is "in a psychiatric hospital", it could connect him to Joyce's bloodline.

There are several comments in the show hinting to this idea of mental instability in Joyce's family:

s1 ep.5: When Lonnie comes to visit in s1 after Will goes missing, Joyce says to Lonnie "No, don't look at me like that, like how everyone is looking at me, like I'm out of my damn mind" He responds saying "I think you need to consider the possibility that this is all in your head. Remember your Aunt Darlene?" Joyce quickly replies, "No, this is not that."

That conversation, although quick, is very telling. Lonnie is implying that Joyce had an aunt who was mentally unstable - and Joyce clearly knows about her aunt being unstable because she responds to his comment by saying what's she's experiencing is not that (the mental instability of her aunt)

s2 ep.2: Joyce says to Bob, "this is not a normal family", when he suggest moving out of Hawkins.

I used to think Joyce was always was referring to the whole 'my son got stuck in an alternate dimension with supernatural monsters and is now traumatized, and we were sworn to secrecy by the government' thing but maybe she is also referring to her biological family.

s1 ep.2: When they are searching for Will, one of the other police officers, says "Joyce is one step from the edge" and the other officer responds "She has been several steps for quite a while now".

If Joyce is related to Victor Creel biologically, and he did also happen to be a test subject, has powers, or has some other relation to the upside down, this could possibly have contributed to whatever kind of abilities Will has, because he would be a descendant of Creel. But Joyce does not seem to have any powers and neither does Jonathan. If they were related to Creel, it's odd that they both didn't get powers, but Will did. I've always thought Will was born with his powers, like El.

We know almost nothing about Joyce's past, it's never discussed in the slightest in the show, which I feel like is purposeful. We don't know Joyce's maiden name; she doesn't change it back after she and Lonnie divorce. Maybe the Duffers are saving Joyce's backstory for s4 (and possibly s5), like I think they are doing with Will and El's connection. Will, El, Hopper, and Joyce were pictured in a series of 4 tweets posted by the stranger writers, hinting to the main 4 storylines for season 4. My analyzation of this tweet here.

I think it's possible that Joyce's storyline this season could also have to do with her past- not just her searching for Hopper- but also more personal information about her. Perhaps we will see flashbacks of younger Joyce and maybe learn about her biological relatives.

Noah also said this would be the darkest season for Will, so this idea of being the grandkid of someone evil or disturbed could fit into that.

Part 2: Creel could be Terry's father/Eleven's grandfather

The only other person I could see potentially having a biological; relation to Victor Creel could be Terry Ives and Eleven, (because it would complete the Star Wars parallel mentioned earlier) but it's a stretch for several reasons, the main one being that Terry and Becky's father Bill Ives, died in a car crash (year unknown).

So for Victor Creel to be Terry's father that either has to be:

Her adoptive father OR

Her mother cheated and led Mr. Ives to believe Terry was his kid but her father is really Victor Creel, and Becky is actually Bill Ives son (which would explain why Becky has no powers)

Right of the bat it's interesting Terry's father's name is Bill. Bill is a nickname for William (Will Byers full name is William), and Billy's a nickname also for William... Hmmm....

Immediately after El is born, Terry is adamant that Brenner stole her child to use as a weapon to fight the commies BECAUSE SHE HAD SPECIAL ABILITIES - and she's completely right about everything. How does Terry know El had powers immediately after she was born? Because she knows she has developed some kind of special abilities from the experiments as well. When El goes to visit her mother in s2, THE LIGHTS FLICKER, just like they do when the upside down is near, but it's not Eleven controlling it. Her Aunt Becky says it's just the wiring, and Eleven responds: "IT'S MAMA. She wants to talk." And then we see Terry's NOSE BLEED, just like El's does when she uses her powers.

Quick side note about El's biological father is Andrew Rich: (It's revealed in the canon novel Suspicious Minds that Andrew Rich is El's father) He was a college student who got expelled from school due to protesting the Nixon address, making him eligible to be drafted in the Vietnam war, and he died in battle. Terry was involved in the Project MKUltra experiments at Hawkins National Laboratory in College, under the direction of Dr. Martin Brenner, but didn't know she was pregnant at the time. Andrew never even knew Terry was pregnant, meaning she was extremely early on in her pregancy at the time he was sent away, not even Terry was aware yet. It's also stated in this book that BRENNER HAD A HAND IN GETTING ANDREW EXPELLED SO HE COULD SEND ANDREW AWAY. The novel states that Brenner has Andrew drafted because he wants to SCARE Terry, to show her how much power he has over her life. There's definitely some history between Terry and Brenner that we don't know about yet.

If Victor Creel is in fact Joyce's father it's interesting that the powers seem to have skipped a generation with Joyce, and also one kid with the Byers, but if Victor Creel is Terry's father, no generations were skipped in passing down powers. ANYWAYS, this is all just theories and speculation since we have no actual concrete reasons to believe he will be related to Joyce or Terry.

Part 3: The possibility that Creel could be involved in Eleven's storyline this season does not rely on them being biologically related.

**One of the filming locations for this season is the Claremont House, which is RUMORED to be Creel's house and also "Vecna's lair" the new monster for s4 (unconfirmed) This is the house the Hawkins group goes into in the ST4 sneak peek, where they see the grandfather clock striking midnight. If that's true, there's a connection between Creel and the upside down and having powers, which could connect Creel to Eleven. The Duffers: "In Hawkins a new horror is beginning to surface, something long buried, something that connects everything". This thing "that connects everything", could be Creel's storyline (his possible connection to the lab/upside down/person in the show), because Creel's storyline also spans all the way back to the 1950's and before that, so there's our "long buried" part most likely.

Robert Englund recently revealed in *an interview* that his character Victor Creel gouges his eyes out, making him unable to see. Englund also mentions what it's like working with Millie Bobby Brown and talks about the first time her met her, he doesn't mention any other cast members in detail like he does Millie.

He's clearly working closely with Millie's character Eleven.

But why? I think Creel could be involved with Eleven getting her powers back, and her reliving her past. Once the government baddies realize El has no powers, they're gonna want them back. If Creel was in fact a test subject, maybe there is some kind of connection between them, Such as Eleven revisiting what happened to her in her past and how that could relate to her getting her powers back.

Another thought I had was that perhaps the gruesome murder he committed is somehow related to something that ends up impacting in Eleven's life.

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

Whatever Victor Creel's storyline is, it will be an important one, and it will carry somewhat into s5, since he will be a returning character. He is not signed as a series regular, but as a recurring character, which means we don't really know to what capacity he will be in s5. It could be flashbacks mostly, or he could have just as big or small of a role.

Source: indie wire

That detail about eyes being gouged out reminds me of fear street 1666 when the townsmen who was sacrificed to the devil becomes possessed and gouges the kids eyes out. Leigh Janick, director of fear street, is married to Ross Duffer. They both direct and make horror/sci-fi themed series about kids in a small town set in the 80's, who fight supernatural evil with a heavy undertone of queer themes, that are even filmed in a lot of the same locations (the mall, the town streets, etc.) I'm not saying it's the same thing, it definitely won't be. But there's so many similarities between ST and Fear Street, I thought I would mention this as another.

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dameronology · 4 years

Text

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true.

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid.

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again.

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist.

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success.

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch.

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered.

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business.

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened.

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently.

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate.

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his.

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself.

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other.

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing.

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second.

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers.

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted.

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket.

‘Hey, baby?’

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap.

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase.

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy.

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time.

‘Move in with me?’

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide.

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled.

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad.

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came.

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out.

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned.

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s.

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek.

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled.

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening.

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagines #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.8k

g/n: decided on a bit of a filler for this one as a sort of prelude to future scenes 👀👀 ((likewise manifesting my plan to post another chapter this week))

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Jungkook locks his apartment door behind him, jiggling the doorknob afterwards for ‘double security’ as one would usually call it. He grabs his backpack from the floor and places one of the straps on his shoulders and heads on his way. As he passes by two of his neighbors who live in the same floor, he nods at them, adding a brief hum in greeting.

“Hey man!” One of the men, Jikwang (as what Jungkook believes this man’s name was), calls out just before Jungkook reaches the elevator. “There was this hot girl asking about you last night.”

Jungkook raises a brow. He hadn’t really met anyone recently, besides that one cute law student who was looking for a new tenant - and eventually turned out to be your neighbor this whole time. She was cute and all, but she didn’t seem like the type that was ‘hot’ to these types of people.

Jungkook racks his brain for anything, trying to remember the very few number of his one night stands.Surely,none of them would have gotten pregnant with protection on….surely? On top of that, he hadn’t really disclosed his address to a lot of people too, so there was no way someone would be looking for him, all the more a “hot” woman,as these two would claim.

“Did she say what her name was?”

The one beside Jikwang shakes his head, adjusting his beanie. He’d seen this dude a couple of times hanging around, but he never actually got his name. “Nah bro, I don’t think you’re the commitment type of dude…” he comments, dark eyes looking at Jungkook from his head down to his toe. Who was this guy anyways and who was he to judge whether Jungkook was the type to enter a committed relationship or not?

“She just...looked rich, rich. She had a driver... who helped her come down from a nice Benz.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop to the ground. No way in hell.

“I think her name was Hee something...Junghwa? I dunno man, I’m not good with names. But it sounds similar to that…”

“Was it Junghee?”

“Yeah I think that’s it…” bonnet-dude replies, tapping a finger against his chin as he approaches Jungkook. “You think maybe you can set me up? With you know…”

Jikwang knocks the back of bonnet-man’s head. “I got dibs first, shithead. “If she’s not already yours though,” he adds, delivering a wink aimed at Jungkook. “Her friends will do.”

Jungkook squints his eyes at the duo. “No. She’s my sister. And she doesn’t have any friends.” A chill courses through his spine as he replies, wondering how she managed to find out where he lived, and why would she even reach out? Why now, when she had so many years to do so?

Beanie guy simply laughs at him - if it was even considered laughing, when he was practically splitting his sides with laughter - like the thought of having a sister was hilarious to him. “You’re real funny, man. There is no...way...in hell… that that lady was your sister.”

Ah yes, this man is a health vice personified. Jungkook notes the discoloration of his teeth, the god-awful odor coming from his mouth, and they both reek of alcohol and drugs combined. From a safe distance, Jungkook watches their amusement over the subject that is his sister, thinking about why he even indulged these two in the first place. For all he knows, they might have been shitting on him the whole time.

“Sorry man. I mean...she’s rich and hot… and you?” Jikwang shrugs his shoulders.

‘And he?’ What about him?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Jungkook clicks his tongue silently, clearly taking full offense with Jikwang’s statement. Did they just imply he didn’t look rich and hot too? Well, compared to them though, they’ll obviously have way longer to go.

Jungkook blinks before equally returning their level of disbelief. “For real, bro?” These men diss him, won’t believe he has a sister whose aura dwarfs his by a million percent, and now they want him to set up a date with her? He shakes his head. Only crooks like these would say insane shit like this.

If only this wasn’t the cheapest and most convenient apartment he could find to accommodate his daily hustle, Jungkook would have moved out of this crap excuse of an apartment building a long time ago.

“Keep dreaming man.”

“Hey, this is what I get for selling you my bike for a good price?” Jikwang eyes Jungkook, taunting him.

“I owe you nothing. I paid for it ages ago.” Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the two in the crusty ass corridor of their apartment building. He needs to get a new place. Quickly.

With a sigh, he pulls on his down jacket, keeping himself warm as he walks to the garage.

‘King Auto’

There’s a certain warmth that envelops Jungkook whenever he sees the garage, a place he’d rather call home than his terrible apartment building. It sits right at the corner of two busy streets, just six blocks away from his apartment.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t him who first found out about the garage but the other way around. Well, technically, the owner did. Lee Dongmin, owner and manager of ‘King Auto’ repairs and restores almost all types of cars and bikes alike, occasionally servicing high-end cars on lucky days.

Dongmin would usually see Jungkook pass by the garage in the morning on his way to the university or his part-time job.Well, being located at a busy street in the city of Seoul, there would normally be a lot of passersby but Dongmin knew these people either worked or lived around the area; Jungkook, however, always lingered when he walks past the garage.

It had come to Dongmin’s knowledge a few months later that Jungkook purposefully used a longer route on his way, walking two extra blocks just so that he could pass by the garage. Dongmin hadn’t initially done anything about it, as he thought Jungkook simply took interest in cars - especially when the shop had its fair share of servicing cars from the western market.

There was this particular day though one summer, that their paths would finally cross. Jungkook’s bike, the same bike he bought from sketchy Jikwang, broke down. Coincidentally just in front of King Auto too. Funnily enough, no one in the garage was familiar with fixing up bikes, but Jungkook simply asked if he could borrow a few tools and he’d fix his bike himself.

Ultimately, Jungkook became part of the King Auto family. He’d spend his spare time in the garage when he’s not busy with his part-time jobs and on occasion, Jungkook gets to keep a tiny commission whenever he helps out with the repairs.

Jungkook goes through the front door greeting the new receptionist, Clark, a good morning before heading straight to the garage. Jungkook spots a familiar shade of blue peeking through the scissor lifts, just by the end row. He practically dashes to the car in excitement, too thrilled to greet his favorite car he had worked on previously.

“My baby!” The boy exclaims as he rests his chin on the Porsche Panamera’s roof. “Kook! Get your hands off that! I just had it cleaned!” gruffs Mansik from the other side of the car, flinging his towel at Jungkook who mumbles a sorry but continues to cradle the car, a little more gently this time.

“If you continue doing that, you know a towel isn’t the only thing Mansik is going to throw at you.” Lee Dongmin’s voice is low, careful that the man he’s referring to won’t hear his words. “I’m glad he hasn’t resorted to tools yet...just a couple of smelly socks and a t-shirt that smells like it hasn’t been washed for months... “

“Fuckers.” True to Jungkook’s foreboding, Mansik does throw a sock ball from out of nowhere, one which barely misses Jungkook’s face. Dongmin simply shakes his head at his workers, who he has considered family at this point, Jungkook included. “I’m just glad none of that fell into my first coffee of the day.” Dongmin observes, drawing himself father from the Porsche and any flying objects later on.

“By the way, the owner is actually here to pick up the car. I may or may not have mentioned your infatuation with it.”

Jungkook almost instantly jumps to his feet, searching for the owner inside the garage, but disappointingly ending up with all the familiar faces at the garage. “Chill, kid. He just grabbed some coffee down the street,” Dongmin mentions as he takes a sip of his own. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” the latter states, nodding his head towards someone behind Jungkook.

“Seokjin-sunbaenim?”

“Oh hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you here...Jungkook, right?”

“Yes sir!” Jungkook’s pupils shake, animatedly looking back and forth between the garage owner and his upper-level resident. “So...you’re the one who owns this Porsche?” Seokjin raises his cup, adding a small nod in Jungkook’s direction. He internalizes his excitement, before confessing his love for Seokjin’s Panamera.

“And so, Dongmin here mentioned. Also said you were the one who fixed her up. Thanks man!”

Dongmin looks at the two of them, eyebrows creased in the middle. “You two know each other?”

“Seokjin-sunbaenim is a senior of mine at Woocheon.” Seemingly shellshocked at the new piece of information, Dongmin turns to Seokjin, “You’re a doctor?” The owner of the Porsche rolls his eyes fondly, “Yes, Dongmin. We can have lives outside the hospital too, you know.”

“Anyways, ‘Mera’s ready to go yeah?”

“Of course. Kook fixed it up just fine.”

“Alright. Got a shift today man? Need a ride to the hospital?”

Jungkook is tempted to give in, but merely fixing Seokjin’s car is enough honor for him and he can’t take advantage of his generosity. “No thank you, sunbae. I’ve already got a ride to work today.” Jungkook points to his bike on the other side of the garage.

Seokjin tuts his disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? In this weather?” The older doctor points outside, then rubs his palm against his down coat. “No way in hell, kid. Get in the car.”

“Really?” Jungkook mumbles, dimple on display as his lips form a thin line. Seokjin makes a hum of approval as he takes off his jacket while Jungkook dashes back to where he’d left his backpack. “He’s a good kid, Jungkook. Can be a bit of a delinquent sometimes, but he’s good. Take care of him, yeah?”

“Huh,” Seokjin smirks, “this handsome face got nothing he can’t handle.” Dongmin rolls his eyes this time, “Seriously doubt we’re the same age honestly.”

Jungkook returns to where the Porsche is parked, and Seokjin gets a spur-of-the-moment idea. The surgical resident throws his keys to Jungkook before settling inside the passenger seat. Jungkook, surprised as ever, simply stands there in surprise. “Well?” Seokjin asks, ducking towards the dashboard so he could take a look at Jungkook, “We’re gonna be late!”

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #doctors au

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