#thankfully my wife is on the same page

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Surprise Marriage

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you and Logan receive some...surprising news, it leads to a lot of unanswered questions.

Disclaimer: One or two swear words here and there. Mostly fluff, chaos, little angst, yearning, kissing and a happy ending. Not Proof Read.

The morning, so far, had been slow for Logan. 

Which, thankfully, due to the last couple of years, wasn’t out of the ordinary. Sure, a kid or two might forget to have done their homework or the coffee filter hadn’t been changed. But other than the small, common, everyday mishaps, everything had been pretty normal. 

But somehow, when Logan woke up, something felt off. 

Maybe it was the quiet hallways, maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen any other professors in the break room or around the school, or maybe it was the fact that when he walked into the Professor's office, everyone looked at him with…worry. 

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“Logan, I think it’s best if you sit down.”

Logan looked around everybody and they all looked worried, too. Not “someone’s dead” worried, but worried enough to make him feel uneasy. 

“What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Y/n today?”

Logan shook his head. “She had a late night. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Professor X looked at Storm. “Go and get her for me, please.”

Storm nodded and made her way out of the door and towards your bedroom. Meanwhile, Logan was still confused. 

“Charles, what’s going on?”

The man took a small sigh and looked at the papers on his desk before looking back up to Logan. 

“Come on, clearly everyone else knows. What is it?”

The Professor went back and forth with himself for a minute before finally looking back up. “I suppose I should tell you. You’re married, Logan.”

Logan laughed. “Excuse me?”

“I received these papers this morning from a law firm in Oklahoma. It seems it took them a while to find an address for you both.”

“Both? What?”

“Here, take a look for yourself.” The Professor pushed the papers to the edge of his desk where Logan took them with caution and a lot of confusion. 

“What the hell? When were these even..drawn up? Better yet, who’s my wife?”

“Well, that would be the other question except-”

Just as the Professor was about to finish his sentence, the door to his office opened and Storm walked in with you not far behind. Everyone looked at you…worriedly. Like they knew something you didn’t. 

Logan looked annoyed as he flipped through a couple sheets of paper but when he saw you, he held the same expression but only for a minute then it turned into…into something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

Then you remembered. 

It had been laundry day. 

And you wore one of his shirts to bed. 

Standing in his t-shirt and some plaid pyjama shorts that you found in the back of your wardrobe, your hair down and slightly messy from having only just woken up, you looked around everyone. 

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Y/n-”

“Take a look at this.” Logan handed you the pile of paper he had been reading, and with a slightly tired and confused look, you read through it. 

What was it meant to be? A news article? A government contract? A kid’s essay who’s handwriting they couldn’t read…again?

But no. 

It was anything but. 

Well, maybe a government contract…of sorts. 

“This is a marriage licence.” You spoke aloud. “Logan, why am I looking at a marriage licence at eight in the morning? Oh my god, are Jean and Scott finally getting hitched. About time.”

“No,” Logan said. “It’s ours.”

“What?”

“It’s ours. We’re married.”

You stopped reading. Even if you had pretended to do so, all the words on the page suddenly became blocks of ink that you couldn’t make out. 

“What?”

Then the Professor started to explain. “We were hoping one of you could explain this to us, though if neither of you wish to, that’s completely fine. What happens between a husband and wife is none of our-”

“When did this even happen?” You asked Logan. 

“I don’t know.”

“A law firm in Oklahoma sent it over. Apparently it’s taken them a while to find your address.”

You thought for a moment. Yourself and Logan hadn’t been in Oklahoma for nearly ten months. And you certainly didn’t get married. At least, not from memory. 

“I need to sit down.”

Logan pushed out the chair beside him with his foot and you fell into the softer leather. You had just woken up and all of a sudden you felt like you wanted to sleep for at least a month. 

“We’re married? Are you sure it’s ours? Maybe they got the addresses mixed up and…I don’t know. Got it wrong?”

Logan leaned back and pressed his hand to the side of his face. “Flipped to the back page.”

And so you did. 

There was your name. And Logan’s. Signed and dated. 

You were married to Logan. 

Logan had become your husband as of ten months ago. 

You had become Logan’s wife. 

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Scott said. Jean hit him on the arm. “What?”

“Hard to not be a little offended at that.” Logan said, half under his breath, half to you. 

“Do either of you know when this happened?”

You shook your head, still trying to read the pieces of paper in front of you. When could this have-

“The library.”

“What?” 

Logan sat up. “We signed for a package. What kind of delivery company has us sign a marriage contract instead?”

“I don’t know but it had to be there. That’s the only time we ever…wrote our names, signed a piece of paper. It could have been this.”

“We would have noticed if it said “MARRIAGE LICENCE” at the top of the page.”

Then the bell rang. 

“We…should pick this up later. For now, let's just try and go about today as normal.”

You could only nod in agreement. And as everyone left, the Professor turned to both you and Logan who were sitting facing each other in your chairs. 

“I’ll give you both some time.”

Logan nodded a small thank you and waited until the door closed behind Xavier before he spoke. 

You were silent. Still processing. Your heart was like rapid fire against your chest and your vision was slowly losing focus on the paper in front of you. 

Logan pulled the paper from your hands and placed it on the desk before shuffling closer and holding onto both of your hands. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” One of Logan’s hands came to rest by the side of your face. “Just breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. Just…take a deep breath.”

“We’re married, Logan.” Your voice was quieter than usual. 

“I know.”

“We’re married.”

Logan nodded. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“That one I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

You shrugged. “What are we meant to do? By all technicality…we’re married. Husband and Wife. According to this piece of paper, I’ve been a fraud to the government by not going by Howlett.”

“So we…we get a divorce?”

“How? Don’t there have to be…grounds for getting divorced?”

“So, we tell them it was a mistake.” Logan offered. “I’m sure we’ll be divorced as quick as we found out we were- are married.”

You could only nod. 

Logan rubbed a thumb over each of your knuckles. “Hey, we’ll be okay. It’ll all be fine. Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I woke up and found out I’m a wife with a husband. That’s what’s going on. Jesus, are the lights always this bright in here?”

You covered your closed eyes with one hand, trying your best to stop the pounding in your head. 

“How can you be so calm about this?”

Logan shrugged. “Figure you’re freaking out enough for the both of us.”

That made you laugh a little. 

“Come on, we need to get to class. And you need to get dressed. Unless you want to teach in your pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about using your t-shirt. Laundry day.”

Logan smiled. “It’s okay. Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

Hours later, you found yourself in a pair of jeans you fished from the bottom of your semi-fresh clothes pile and decided to keep Logan’s t-shirt on. A, because it’s one of the most comfortable things you’ve worn, and B, it was the only clean top you had. 

And after spending all day teaching classes, you found yourself going through each of your dirty items and throwing them into the washing machine, being careful to make sure there were no sneaky bright or dark colours that made their way into a wash they shouldn’t have been in. 

“Hey.”

You turned to find Storm waiting by the door before walking inside. 

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“After teaching a bunch of teenagers all day? Exhausted.” You said with a small laugh. And Storm chuckled for a moment before walking around you and leaning on the wall so she was facing you as you unloaded your dirty laundry into the machine. 

“I know that feeling but that wasn’t why I was asking.”

You nodded. You knew that. “I don’t know. It’s just…new information.”

“Have you seen Logan today?”

You shook your head. “Not since this morning. Though he did leave a coffee on my desk when I got back to my classroom after lunch.”

Storm smiled. Between herself and the others (including the kids - though they were yet to find out) Storm thought the best thing to happen was for yourself and Logan to get married. Okay, maybe not in the way it happened. But it was a positive thing. 

They had been watching you and Logan for years, becoming friends, becoming teammates, trusting each other, finding your own…ways together. Like with the coffee. Logan only did that with you. Or how, despite only knowing him a week, seemed to know more about him than anyone else did. 

You were both so close with each other than some of the kids in the school had questioned your relationship status with each other. 

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What can we do? The most reasonable, and sensible, thing to do is get a divorce.”

Storm crossed her arms. “Have you talked about maybe…staying together?”

“What?”

Storm shrugged. “It’s an idea. Maybe this is a sign telling you both that there’s something more than just friendship. I mean, going off what you’re currently wearing…that is his, isn’t it?”

You looked down. 

“It’s laundry day. He let me wear it.”

“And are you going to give it back, or did he tell you to keep it?”

You were silent and Storm watched as small patches of blush warmed your cheeks. She had her answer. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is your chance to see if there is something more between you and Logan.”

“If there was, something would have happened by now.”

Oh, how Storm wished that was true. 

But sometimes it was agony watching you both together. Like how at Christmas, you fell asleep against him by the fire and Logan smiled. It wasn’t a big grin, but he smiled. Or how you were the only one Logan would let near him when he had been impaled in his shoulder by a six foot rod. Or how you looked at him. And how he looked at you right back. 

There was more than just friendship. A lot more. 

“Just think about it.”

And with that she left. And you were left wondering. 

What the hell was there to think about? You and Logan were friends, sure, but…more? Sure, when you first met him, it felt instant. Instant likeness, instant trust. And that never came easy for you. Or Logan for that matter. And, yeah, maybe once or twice you had thought something could have happened. 

Like the night in the motel room, funnily enough, in Oklahoma. 

It had been one bed and you had both woken up and turned to face each other. You had both been talking for a good twenty minutes when the conversation lulled and you were both there. You felt something. You couldn’t put your finger on it but you felt something. But everything was cut short when the owner of the Motel came to knock on the door so he could fix the leaky tap in the bathroom. 

Or like the night when you all went camping with the kids. 

Somehow, you had found yourself sharing a tent with Logan even though it had been planned for you and Storm to bunk. 

You teased Logan on how happy he was to be bunked with you and not Scott. And for a split second, you could have sworn you saw him blush. Though it was probably out of embarrassment of your teasing. 

But that couldn’t have been something. It couldn’t have meant anything, could it?

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Logan turned and found the last person he expected to be standing by the door. 

“Scott?”

“Figured you’d still be awake and lo and behold, I was right.”

Logan watched as he walked inside and sat across from him. “Have you come to say something, or just be a dick the whole time?”

Scott chuckled, “Maybe a bit of both.”

Logan raised his eyebrows and took another drink. 

“Have you talked to her?” Logan knew exactly who he was talking about. But he shook his head. 

“Not since this morning.”

“Have you talked about what you’re going to do?”

“What do you want, pal?”

Well, he wasn’t being Logan if he didn’t want to skip the pleasantries. 

“I think you and Y/n should give this thing a chance.”

“Excuse me?”

Scott smirked a little. “Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve not thought about it with her. How close you two are, how you both seem to know what the other does before they even do it. And call it what you want, I think this is the perfect excuse.”

“Perfect excuse?”

“To see if something can actually happen between you two.”

“And why should it?”

“Because you’re in love with her.”

For some reason, that felt like a punch to the gut to Logan. 

“Look, bub, I know-”

“Logan, the way you look at her isn’t the way a friend looks at another friend. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We all have. From day one, that girl has been something else for you, and even if you don’t know it, the rest of us do. You’re in love with her. You always have been.”

“No, I’m-”

“You can’t deny it, Logan.” Scott told him. “Eventually something is going to snap and it might be too late. So, you’ve done the whole relationship a little backwards. So what? You’d only get divorced anyway if it doesn’t work out. But you need to do something about your feelings, Logan.”

Logan had to laugh. “I think I’d know if I was in love with someone.”

Scott sighed. Did he seriously have to paint Logan a fucking picture. 

“You make her coffee every day. You bring her lunch and sit with her every day. She is the first person you go to when you finally want to ask someone for help. And I know for a fact she is the first person you tell anything to. She knows more about you than anyone else in this building does, and that is down to you and everything you have shared with her. Anytime anyone looks in her direction, you aren’t too far behind her.”

“I saw you, that day, when the Mayor and his brother turned up at the school.” Scott continued. “The way his brother was looking her up and down…Logan you were by her side in less than ten seconds and we all saw the look you gave him. That man left the Professor’s office trembling. He also never looked in y/n’s direction again.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you were jealous, Logan. And that, for as much as you can and probably will try and deny it. You love her.”

The conversation lulled for a moment. 

“All I’m saying is at least think about it. We’ve all seen you together. Maybe it’s time you finally noticed yourself.”

Logan didn’t see you until the next day when he caught you folding laundry in your room. 

“Want some help?”

You turned around and saw him. “Sure. You can start with that pile.”

Logan entered your room, a little more awkward than usual, and started folding clothes. 

“How are you…how are you feeling?”

You shrugged. “Like normal, I guess. What about you?”

“Yeah, fine.”

IT was a slight struggle after that but conversation flowed a little easier eventually. 

That was something Logan always loved when it came to being around you. He wasn’t the biggest one for talking to people but with you, it was easy. Probably helped by the fact you could somehow change topics at lightning speed. 

Conversations with you were never, ever boring. 

Even when they were probably meant to be. 

And it wasn’t long before your fear surrounding being married…faded. 

Around a week later, a leak had sprung on one side of the school which meant having to bunk rooms for a while. Of course, all the kids went with their friends. 

But it also meant you had to bunk with someone too. 

“You can bunk with me.” Logan told you. 

You nodded. “Finally sharing a room. Wow, we’re really moving generations in this relationship.”

“After you, wife.”

This became a common theme, until the weight of the words settled down on both of you once more. 

A divorce lawyer had picked up your case. 

It would take a couple of weeks to get all the papers sorted, but yourself and Logan would be divorced by the middle of the following month. 

Like nothing had ever happened. 

Except, it just so happened, that was when something did happen. 

Scott and Storms’s words had been playing on Logan’s mind and yours. Not helped by the fact it wasn’t the last time someone held that kind of conversation with either of you. 

You found yourself in a similar conversation with Scott, whilst Logan had a similar conversation with Jean. 

And then the Professor approached you both, without the other one knowing. 

Except he hadn’t been to sit down and talk to you about it. He just made small comments in passing that left you both questioning more and more about your true feelings. 

And then Logan found you in the library one night. 

“Here you are. You didn’t come to bed so…what are you doing?”

Standing close to the top of the book ladder, you were scanning through different books with a flashlight.

“The main light is too big and the fire’s light doesn’t reach this far back.”

Logan blinked. “That…still didn’t answer my question.”

“I’ve got a new semester of lessons set out. I wanted to get a head start on finding the books needed.”

Logan looked around. “You got a list?”

You looked at him. “Logan, it’s past midnight. Go to bed.”

“That’s not what I asked. Where’s your list? I know you’ve got one.”

Sighing, you reached into your back pocket and held it out. He walked over and plucked it from your fingers. 

“There’s twenty six books on this list.”

“And I currently have three. If you still want to help, any that you find, just place them on the table behind the sofa.”

And so he did. 

By two in the morning, you’d both found twenty three books in total. Just three more left. 

“Is this the right edition?”

“Let me see.”

Logan walked over to where you were still standing on the ladder and handed it up to you. You flipped through a couple of the first pages as you slowly climbed backwards down the stairs. 

“Yeah, this is the right one. The last two should be on a lower shelf.”

As you finally reached the last few steps, you felt your foot slip and your knees crashed against the bars. Except, instead of falling backwards, or rolling with the ladder itself, Logan’s hands steadied you. 

“You alright?”

You took a second to breathe. Having your life flash before your eyes for a couple of seconds really knocks the wind out of you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed a little. “I’m fine.”

You turned in Logan’s arms and was met with his broad and solid chest as his hands held you at your waist. 

“Good,” Logan laughed a little, too. 

The sound of your life had always been like music to his ears. 

A comfort, even when the moment hadn’t been all that comfortable beforehand. 

And for that moment, time seemed to still. Any silence that had been in the room was slowly becoming defending, until your hearing focused on his breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the quickening of your own heartbeat. 

The flashlight that you had held in your hands had rolled somewhere onto the floor when you slipped on the ladder. 

But you had never seen Logan so…clearly. 

You had known him for so long and had even spent nights and mornings in the same bed together. But for the first time, you were committing him to memory. Part of you felt like these moments would go, once the papers came through. That even if neither of you wanted it, something would inherently change between you both once the papers were signed and delivered. 

But something in that moment was changing too. 

Like how you were realising you never wanted to be away from him. That the best place on this earth was right where you were. In his arms, his eyes on you, and yours on him. 

You found yourself leaning in forward, almost as if, if you didn’t get closer to him, he might disappear. 

And he was doing the same. 

One of his hands came up to your face as he rubbed a couple of strands of your hair between his fingers before he slowly pushed it back and let his gaze wash over you. 

He was committing you to memory, too. 

His eyes locked on yours once more, just as his other hand trailed down your waist and to your hip. 

You fell closer to him. 

Or maybe he pulled you closer. 

Either way, you never wanted to be without his touch. 

What felt like an eternity later, you finally felt his lips against yours and yours against his. 

It started off slow. This was new territory for you both when it came to the other. It was slow, full of mixed feelings and…something else. 

Then it snapped. 

Logan pushed a little harder and you felt your legs hit the back of the book ladder just as his hand and arm snaked around and up your back, holding you flush against him as your own arms pulled him closer to you. 

Logan braced the hand that had been by your face, by the side of your head, holding onto the book ladder, keeping you both steady. 

And he felt your breath hitch as he stepped into you. 

Before you knew it, you were braced against one of the bars on the ladder as Logan’s lips went from yours, across your jaw and down the column of your neck. A small grunt escaped him as your own fingers scratched through the back of his hair and down the back of his neck. 

However, just as his lips returned to yours and his hands slipped under the hem of your t-shirt– his t-shirt, as your own started reaching for the hem of his…a clock went off. 

“W-w-w-w-w-wait. Wait. Stop.”

“Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Yes…no. I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Logan wanted to ask “Why? Why shouldn't we?”. But instead, lowered his head. He knew why. 

“You’re right…you’re right.”

Your own temple came to rest against his for a few moments, neither of you wishing to leave the moment just yet. 

“We should go…before someone comes in.”

“It’s two in the morning, who is going to come in?”

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.”

You stayed quiet for a long time, feeling Logan’s fingers draw circles over your skin. Eventually, the only sound you heard was his heartbeat and his breath, slowly matching your own. 

But no matter how much of you told you to stay, you tried your best to fight it. 

You and Logan were friends. Friends who were about to get a divorce from a marriage neither of you could remember fully consenting to. 

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Reluctantly, you stepped out of his arms, his light grip on your hand not letting go until you were both too far apart to hold on any longer, and made your way through the school until you came across an empty room. 

It was the smaller quiet space that overlooked the back of the school. Perfect for the nights when too much noise was keeping you up at night. 

Except, it wasn’t noise keeping you awake. 

It was your own mind, relieving the one thing you thought you would never do with Logan. The one thing you wanted most to keep going. The one thing you would never forget. 

When Logan woke the next day, part of him thought it was all a dream. But even he couldn’t have dreamed up anything from the night before and have it still feel so real in the morning. 

Then he didn’t see you for three days. 

Save for one moment when he brought a box of your things from his room, to yours. You opened the door, wearing another one of his t-shirts. One that went missing months ago. One that he had seen on your at least a dozen times since. One that he felt he was truly seeing for the first time, on you. 

The exchange, coming from the both of you together, couldn’t have felt anything more than awkward. 

And then another moment hit. 

You didn’t close the door. 

He didn’t know what to say. 

All he knew was that he wished he was back with you, in the library. 

And you were wishing the same thing right back. 

“I should-”

“You should-”

A small, awkward laugh came from both of you before eventually you shut the door, wishing you had enough confidence to open it back up and call after him. 

Two days later, Logan hadn’t seen you at all. 

And a morning meeting, with Storm going to get you from your bed, led to Logan realising why he hadn’t seen you. 

“She’s not there?”

Logan turned immediately. “What?”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s not in her room or any other place she usually is this early in the morning.”

“Doesn’t she have classes to teach?” Scott asked. 

“She doesn’t teach Wednesday and Thursday.” Logan told him. 

And it wasn’t long before Logan heard his name being called behind him by Xavier as he marched his way out of the office and to every room he could think you would be. 

You were nowhere to be found. It was almost like you hadn’t been there for weeks. The books you had taken out – the ones Logan had helped you find – were piled neatly in your bedroom. On your desk, you had a small wicker basket filled with letters and postcards, all arranged in date order, the newest ones being at the front. 

The pictures you had on your windowsill displayed all the people you loved the most. And included a picture from when you had ambushed him on his birthday. He rarely, if ever, took a photo. 

But he smiled, albeit a little awkwardly, with you. 

“Where could she have gone?”

Logan looked around your room. You wouldn’t have just gotten up and left for good. You loved teaching your kids too much, despite whatever else had happened. 

Then Logan saw the framed pictures on the wall, just across from your bed. 

“I’ll check with Cyerbro. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“She could be half way across the world by now!”

Logan shook his head. “But she’s not.”

A lot of them were confused, but Xavier watched Logan for a moment. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“I have an idea.”

With that, Logan reached for the wall and pulled down one of the smaller frames and carried it out with him.

“Hold on, I’m coming with you.” Storm called out to him. 

“You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“Logan, you look like you’re just about ready to punch a bull. I know, right now, even if you are the last person she wants to see, you are the first person she needs. But that also means I know what you’re going to do and, love you or not, Y/n wouldn’t want you to hurt someone or even yourself to find her.”

And Storm was right. 

And she was right to tag along. 

Because just five hours later, Logan had pulled up outside a local pharmacy. They had received a call on the way; they were heading in the right direction, but they needed to go into the town first. Any chance of finding where she was in the mountains lay where she had been all day. 

And it wasn’t long before Storm had to step in to stop Logan from almost killing the cashier. 

He had been dancing around the question, leading them all on different tangents of conversation about the town and the people in it before finally he got to his answer.

The cashier nodded. “I don’t know where she lives, but Connie might. She knows everything in the town.”

“Where is Connie?”

The cashier pointed out of the door. “In the bakery, across the street.”

“Thank you,” Logan told him, swiping the picture back up from the counter and walking outside. Storm stopped short behind Logan when she saw he wasn’t moving off the sidewalk. 

Then she saw. 

You had just left the building and climbed inside your beaten up, old Jeep Wrangler. You pulled out of your parking spot and drove off down the street. 

And Logan followed. 

However, halfway up the road, he started to recognise the place. He’d been here before, except he was going up the way he would come down and out of the cabin. 

So, he took a turn. 

He was at your cabin ten minutes before you were. Storm had stayed behind in the town to call the others and let them know what was going on. 

“You fixed her up well.”

You jumped at his voice and threw a can of pumpkin puree at his head. Though he managed to catch it before his head made a dent in the can. 

“Jesus, Logan.” Then you realised. “How did you find me?”

“You forget that I know you. The pictures on your wall. They’re a lot more recent.”

You didn’t know what else to say so you turned back to your front door and pushed it open, Logan hurrying after you. 

“Why did you leave?” He called out, placing the can on the side. 

“I didn’t leave.” You called back as you unpacked some of your groceries. 

“You disappeared into thin air but you weren’t abducted. I’d call that leaving.”

“I needed a break, Logan. I needed…time.”

“Time from what?”

“From everything. From you, from marriage, from the school, from the library. It’s like I woke up one morning and, quite literally, everything had changed. One day we were- we were teachers and friends…we were us, Logan. And then…we kissed and…I don’t know what we’re meant to do, Logan.” You dropped your head as you pressed your palms onto the kitchen counter.

“Maybe we’re meant to do nothing.” Logan walked towards you. “Maybe we keep things as they are.”

“What? Single and married?”

Logan shook his head, bringing his hand to pull yours to look at him. 

“Married and together.”

Your lips parted for a moment, your eyes scanning his face, waiting for the joke to have its punchline. 

“So, we did everything a little backwards?” Logan shrugged. “So what.”

“Logan…”

“I love you, y/n.” Logan told you, nothing but seriousness and truth in his eyes. “And I think you love me, too. But you’re scared. And so am I. Do you love me, y/n?”

You were trying your hardest to keep your emotions inside you, but something was failing. “Of course I do.”

“Then we start here, just you and me.”

“If something goes wrong, I can’t lose you. You mean too much to me, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “Good job I can regenerate.”

You scoffed and hit him in the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Logan nodded, a faint smile on his face. “I know. You’re not going to lose me, Y/n. You couldn’t ever.”

“Promise me.”

Logan nodded. “I promise. Can I kiss you now?”

Logan didn’t have time to finish his question before your lips met his in a searing kiss, your hands pulling him closer to you whilst his own arms wrapped around you. 

Maybe you had done the whole relationship thing backwards, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

Not when you finally had each other for life. 

[author-ssi]

Daddy ~KNJ

➜Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

➜Genre: Smut, (Slight) Fluff (in the beginning), One-Shot

Warnings: MAJOR Daddy kink (in case, it wasn't clear already from the title), reader is basically drooling over DILF Namjoon, age gap (Namjoon in his 30s, reader in her 20s), breast play&fingering&praise (Namjoon is an absolute service dom - don't even try to change my mind!), vaginal sex (reader rides Namjoon) [18+ MDNI]

➜Word Count: 3.7k

➜Summary: Namjoon had been searching for someone to care for his son for months and months, to no avail. Until the moment he saw you crouched on the ground, helping his son tie his shoelaces with a smile so pretty on your face. That's when he knew you'd be perfect for him... and, for his son too.

"Seungmin-ah, it's time to go to bed! Come on, sweetie".

If you were keeping count -which you were- that'd be your 5th attempt to usher the cheeky three-year-old over to his room.

"But Koya doesn't want to sleep yet... Look, he is full of energy!".

Seungmin swings the plushie around, almost hitting you in the face with it. You let out a huffed chuckle glancing at the clock on the wall.

It's almost 9 o'clock and he's the one who's full of energy...

You'd expect that after running around and playing with him all afternoon long, by the time his bedtime came, he'd be sleeping like a log.

"I'll tell you and Koya a fairytale so you both can go to sleep".

You pick him up and sit on his bed, laying him down and pulling the blanket over him.

Thankfully, he settles down, cuddling his Koya, close to him.

Taking the book of fairytales from the bed table, you flip over to the page of his favourite, Kongjwi and Patjwi.

... Or as you prefer to call it Korean Cinderella with a twist.

Seungmin claps his little hands excitedly, burying himself further inside his blanket, focusing his attention solely on your words.

Reaching out to offer him an affectionate pat on the head, you begin to recite the fairytale, smiling fondly at the thought of how much your life has changed ever since you got the job of babysitting this adorable little toddler.

~Four Months Ago~

Judging from how hard it had been for you to get an apartment in NYC, you were already prepared to face the same difficulty in finding yourself a job.

Little did you know, it'd be as easy as taking a walk in the park.

Literally!

Walking in the park, that one cloudy afternoon, was all it took for you to run into little Seungmin and his dad.

And oh, his dad...

Mr. Kim Namjoon.

A Korean-American.

CEO of a public education company.

Single father to Kim Seungmin, after his wife left him a year ago and ran off to Europe with another man.

Honestly, who in their right mind would even think about leaving this man for another?!

You still remember how in awe you were upon seeing him...

His tall frame towered over you and his son as he stood above you, clad in a black turtleneck that perfectly highlighted his muscled chest and wide shoulders.

His face bore youthful features and yet his eyes brought out a sense of wisdom and maturity.

The polite smile he wore, not only betrayed the dimple that appeared on his cheek but his refined manners too, as he offered you a hand to help you stand back up.

Looking up at his entrancing eyes, you accepted his hand and slowly rose to your feet.

"Daddy, look!".

The little toddler's voice finally enabled you to tear your gaze away from his father.

Seungmin pointed at his small feet, with a bright smile on his face.

His father furrowed his eyebrows puzzled, which rushed you to explain.

"His, uh, his shoelaces were untied and he was running around...

So I thought I'd tie them for him!

You know, so he wouldn't get hurt-"

"Thank you for doing that".

The man offered your hand a small squeeze in gratitude, before finally introducing himself.

You hadn't even noticed he was still holding your hand!

Hastily returning the handshake, you forced yourself to withdraw your hand introducing yourself as well.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kim".

It felt proper to address him like that, since he seemed to be quite older than you...

Mr Kim slightly cleared his throat and offered you a small nod before turning to his son.

"Why don't you tell the pretty lady who helped you, your name as well, hm?".

You sucked in a breath and bit your lip in a desperate attempt to hide how much that affected you; a man as handsome as him addressing you as pretty.

Thankfully, the cute toddler in front of you was the perfect way to get your mind off of it as he raised his hand towards you.

"Hi, I am Seungmin!".

You noticed he was offering his hand for you to shake, just like he had seen you do with his father.

"Hi, Seungmin!

It's nice to meet you, I'm Y/N".

You resisted the urge to swoon at the sight of his small hand enveloped in your own.

So cute!

"And what else do you need to say to Y/N?".

"Thank you".

You shook yourself insisting it was nothing and adjusted your back on your shoulder, mentally preparing yourself to bid farewell to the two of them.

"Let me buy you a drink, Y/N; as thanks for helping Seungmin".

Your eyes widened at Mr Kim's unexpected suggestion.

"Oh no, you don't need to do that-".

"I insist".

Well, how could you refuse when he looked at you like that?!

And so, you ended up playing with Seungmin at the playground, while Mr Kim went to get the both of you something to drink.

You were pushing Seungmin on the swings when Mr Kim returned with a hot latte in each hand, offering one for you to drink.

Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a bench with probably the most attractive man you'll ever get the chance to lay your eyes on, drinking your latte and watching over his son continuing to play at the playground.

"Thanks again for helping Seungmin out.

I was too busy talking on the phone...

I should have been keeping an eye on him but work is just-".

He groans in frustration, before letting out a long sigh and turning to you.

"Never mind that now, tell me about you".

You purse your lips in thought, rummaging through your brain in an attempt to find something about you that's interesting enough to share with someone like Mr Kim.

"I'm just a girl, trying to survive college while looking for a job".

You shrug before taking another sip of your latte.

Meanwhile, the moment those words left your mouth, Mr Kim turned to face you with a knowing smile.

"Well, that's a happy coincidence".

And that's when you were offered the job of babysitting Mr Kim's son. And even though, you truly loved looking after little Seungmin, you couldn't help being even more thrilled by the prospect of spending even just a little time around a man like Mr. Kim.

~Present Day~

"And so, the new Mayor married Kongjwi, the owner of the shoe.

Now, you'd think that they got to live happily ever after…

But that's not the end of this story!

Jealous of Kongjwi's happiness, her stepsister Patjwi drowns poor Kongjwi in the stream.

Patjwi then disguises herself as Kongjwi and starts living at the palace as the mayor’s wife.

However, one day Kongjwi appears in her husband's dream and tells him about her tragic fate.

The mayor is shocked to learn this and starts desperately searching for his wife's body.

After months and months of endlessly searching, he manages to discover Kongjwi's body in the stream.

He cries cradling his wife's body close to him before leaning over to offer her a kiss farewell.

Yet, with that kiss, Kongjwi is brought back to life.

Once they both return to the town, the Mayor puts Patjwi and her mother in a dark prison and that's when he and Kongjwi finally live...

Happily ever after!".

You huff merrily closing the book and putting it back to its place before turning to Seungmin.

Alas, the story didn't seem to bring the toddler the drowsiness you'd thought it would, so you decide to simply leave him to play around in his bed hoping that at some point he'll tire himself enough to sleep.

You take the baby monitor with you and walk out of the bedroom, trying hard not to laugh at the kid scolding his plushie for not going to sleep.

Heading over to the kitchen, you start making yourself a warm cup of tea.

After carefully, pouring yourself a cup, you settle on the living room's couch and check the baby monitor sighing in relief when you see that little Seungmin has finally fallen asleep.

As you take a sip of your tea, you open your phone to check your Instagram for any messages.

After replying to your bestie's "where are you?" with a simple "babysitting", you quickly engage in conversation with her since the both of you have nothing better to do right now.

Soon, her texting gives way to an incoming call, which you're more than happy to answer.

Time goes by without you taking notice until you realise that you've finished your tea.

Abandoning your snuggling on the couch, you walk back to the kitchen in order to wash the used kettle and mug, having put the phone on speaker and placed it on the table behind you so as not to get water spilt on it.

"So... Is the Daddy hot?".

You roll your eyes at her sudden, crude question with a slight scoff.

She was never the kind to hold back on those types of conversations and thirsty comments, yet this time you decide to humour her and just play along.

"Well...

Let's just say, I wouldn't mind calling him Daddy too".

You hum cheekily and your best friend gasps.

"That much huh?".

"Oh trust me... He's a Dilf ".

You bite your lip, slightly embarrassed by yourself calling him that.

Your best friend lets out a hum and you're certain she also has a teasing smirk on her face.

"Hmm, no wonder you were so thrilled over a babysitting job".

You shake your head chuckling, as you stretch your body to put the kettle back in its place on the top shelf, before starting to wash your mug next.

"No no, I really love looking after his son. Seungmin's the sweetest!

Having Mr Kim around is just..."

"A bonus".

She finishes your sentence for you, giggling.

"But really, why don't you shoot your shot?

You know, flirt with him, show off your boobies".

Her saucy tone makes you roll your eyes.

"I'm not showing off my boobs to my boss!".

"You were the one who wanted him to be your Daddy...

Anyway, what I'm saying is-".

Waiting a moment or two for her to continue, you place the clean mug in its place.

When she doesn't, you assume that the signal must have been cut off so you wipe your wet hands on a towel before turning around to grab your phone and call her back.

Oh.My.God!

Your eyes almost pop out of your skull and your body freezes on the spot at the sight of none other than Mr. Kim himself leaning against the table where your phone is placed, his hand hovering over its screen.

"M-Mr. Kim! I-I didn't realise you were back home!".

You stumble over your words, feeling your cheeks burn red from the embarrassment.

The only thing that's left for you to do now is hope that he probably hasn't been home long enough to hear the entire conversation, or else you're most definitely fired.

Mr Kim smirks, the amusement clear on his face.

"I thought you'd prefer calling me Daddy".

You gasp, wishing for the earth to open up and swallow you whole right now.

He heard everything right from the start...

Well, there goes your job!

"I-I... It's not what I meant-! I was just, uh, joking! I-!"

You know your attempts at justifying yourself are futile.

You know that there's nothing redeemable you can say for yourself.

But you don't want to lose this job!

Yes, you need the money too but spending all that time with Mr Kim and Seungmin...

You can't bear the thought of never getting to see them again!

"Y/N..."

Your staggered breath catches in your throat once you realise how close to you Mr Kim has gotten.

He has placed his hands on either side of the kitchen counter, trapping you between them.

"Mr Kim-".

You look up at him in question, only to get lost in his eyes.

His large palm comes to caress your cheek, his thumb slightly stroking the soft skin.

"Mr Kim".

A low groan rumbles in his throat as he presses his mouth against yours, more fiercely.

You utter again, before his lips suddenly connect with your own and your mind goes blank.

"Do you know how much I had to hold myself back whenever you called me that?".

You let out a small gasp when you feel his other hand start to fondle your breast.

A wanton cry slips past your lips when his fingers brush over your pebbled nipple.

"Do you know how many times I wished you showed these off to me, and me only?".

His words barely register, you mind still remaining blank from the unforeseen pleasure.

You latch your hands onto his wide shoulders as he lifts you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and having you sit on the kitchen counter.

"Do you know how long I wanted to hear you call me Daddy?".

His hand pushes your hair back, revealing your neck for him to bury his face into, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your warm skin.

You slightly throw your head back, your mouth parting in pleasure, while your hands run through his dark hair.

Both of his hands slowly start kneading your breasts as he lifts his lips from your neck, drawing them close to your ear.

"Go on baby, say it...

Let me hear that pretty voice of yours call me Daddy".

Your brain short-circuits at his words.

You honestly can't fully process what's happening right now.

Yet the words leave your mouth with no hesitation.

"Daddy".

It's as if a switch flipped in Namjoon's mind.

"Oh yes, that's it, baby".

He growls, quickly discarding your blouse and bra off of your body before leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

You mewl as he starts to suck on it and your legs press against his hips, urging him to touch you where you need him most.

"Daddy, please".

He lets your nipple out of his mouth with a 'pop' and he stands up straight, slightly towering over you.

His hand disappears inside your pants, touching you over your panties as he looks down at you, his eyes clouded with desire.

"Is that what you want Daddy to do, baby?

Rub your pussy for you".

You pant closing your eyes as you nod at him urgently.

"Words, baby... I need to hear you say it".

"Yes, Daddy please rub my pussy".

And that's exactly what he does...

And he does it so well...

"Eyes on me, baby".

His deep voice coaxes you to open your eyes and gaze upon him.

Namjoon marvels at the sight of you, panting and trembling in pleasure but it's not nearly enough to satisfy his need for you.

He needs to see you come undone now, just by his fingers.

Gingerly pushing your panties to the side, he licks his lips before he inserts two of his long fingers inside you.

"Oh, D-Daddy!".

You let out a gasp, feeling yourself already full with just two of his fingers.

The thought of what it would feel like to have his cock enter you next, sends shivers down your spine.

His other hand rests on your hip and when he begins to move his fingers slowly in and out of your wet slit, Namjoon holds your body still as you can't help but squirm from the building pleasure.

"Now baby, I want you to focus on my voice".

You don't get the chance to respond to his words.

A breathy moan rips past your lips, your nails desperately digging into his back when you feel him curling his fingers inside you.

Namjoon lets out a pleased hum before he leans over to huskily whisper in your ear.

"I'll start counting and once I reach seven, you're going to let go and cum for your Daddy, like the good little girl you are".

"One...".

His fingers start to pick up speed, while he continues to move them in and out of you.

"Two...".

His other hand starts roughly groping your breast again, making you whine softly.

"Three... Four...".

His fingers curl intensely inside you, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your whole body.

"Five... Six"

"Daddy, I'm going to-!"

"...Seven".

You let go.

A sweet, little cry resonates in the kitchen when you cum on his fingers, but Namjoon keeps moving them, steadily letting you ride out your orgasm.

Once your body relaxes, you let yourself lean towards him resting your head on his chest with a small hum.

Embarrassment threatens to creep up on you as the gravity of the situation comes down on you.

And yet, when your mind runs back to Namjoon's previous words and touches, you instantly admit to yourself that there's no going back for you now.

You want him.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to look up at him.

He relishes your blissed-out expression and smirks when he detects the insatiable desire still reflected in your eyes.

"Tell me what you want, baby".

His deep voice tears up all your remaining inhibitions.

"You, I want you inside me Daddy".

You run your palm through his clothed chest before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, shrugging his suit jacket off of his shoulders.

"Such a good girl, using her words for me".

He swiftly lifts your body off of the kitchen counter and carries you over to the living room.

Your legs stay wrapped around his waist as you finally remove his shirt off of him.

Having his strong arms hold you like this, your sole focus remains on discarding his clothes.

Licking your lips at the sight of his well-built body, you let your hands wander all over it, mapping out his chest, his waist and his shoulders.

Namjoon sighs in satisfaction, before carefully placing you back on the ground, leaving you to stand in front of him topless.

He slowly takes a sit at the edge of the couch behind him and his hands reach out, pulling down your pants and undergarments for you.

Soft moans release from your lips, as he starts to ravish every part of your body with wet kisses and sensual touches.

"Daddy".

You whine, your knees slightly quivering from his heated affection.

"I know baby, Daddy will give you what you want...

Just wanted to take a moment and cherish that beautiful body of yours".

He mutters glancing up at you with lust-filled eyes.

He raises his hips slightly, taking off both of his pants and boxers with one swift movement before leaning back on the couch, resting his arms on the back of it.

One of his fingers points to his lap and your gaze zeroes in on his erected length.

"Go ahead baby, I'm all yours".

You gulp, hesitating for a mere moment before your neediness overcomes you, urging your body to move on top of him.

His hands immediately find their way to your hips, holding onto them firmly to help guide you, as you slowly sink yourself down to his cock.

"Don't rush, we've got all the time in the world".

Namjoon's hushed whisper is soothing and it momentarily distracts you from the slightly painful stretch of his cock.

But the moment you bottom out, a pleasurable heat spreads through your entire body.

Your hips slightly stagger as you itch to start moving them against him but Namjoon's hands keep them still.

His face draws close to yours, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his hot breath mingling with your own.

When he pulls away, his forehead touches yours as he looks deep in your eyes.

"Now, give Daddy a good ride".

Your back arches when his hands roll your hips setting up a steady pace for you to follow.

Once he's made sure you're able to keep up on your own, his hands wrap around your waist hugging your body close to him.

The way he holds you is so erotic; it makes you melt in his arms, hugging him back and letting him relish your unrestrained moans while you ride him.

Namjoon lets you chase your orgasm, simply enjoying the feeling of having you so intimately close to him.

His fingers run down your spine eager to watch goosebumps appear all over your skin.

Yet what takes him by surprise is your walls fluttering around his cock as well.

Namjoon groans throwing his head back, pleasure painting over his expression.

The sight of him losing his composure because of you urges you to pick up the pace, bucking your hips faster against his.

"Oh baby, you make Daddy feel so good...

Come on, won't you cum again around Daddy's cock, like the good girl you are?".

"Ah y-yes Daddy, I-I'm gonna cum!".

His half-lidded eyes are focused on you and you only.

The intensity of his gaze is enough to send you over the edge.

You bite your lip, in an attempt to muffle the shriek that leaves your mouth before your orgasm finally washes over you.

The pleasure your second orgasm brings you is even more intense than your previous one...

So much so, that when the afterglow settles in, you can't help but let your body slump on top of Namjoon's.

Snuggling against his slightly heaving chest, you gather up the courage to look up at him bashfully.

"Um... Mr. Kim-".

Your call for him gets interrupted by his mouth claiming yours in yet another passionate kiss.

Kissing you roughly and deeply, he doesn't draw back until he leaves you breathless.

His fingers brush through your hair tenderly but the look in his eyes is strict and his tone is absolute when he whispers to you.

"I thought we'd already established that from now on, you're only addressing me as Daddy".

[babybluebex]

rememories | tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: the lee family trashed your betting room, including your most prized possessions, and tommy does everything in his power to soothe you and right the wrongs that the rival gang caused. pairing: tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader tags: s1!tommy, tommy being a sweetheart, your daughter's name is thomasine (thanks @lost-in-sokovia for that one), no real warnings for this other than like angst? brief emotional distress? idk author's note: it's come to this lol. i'll be fixing my cillian masterlist later and reblogging it, so y'all can read all of my old tommy fics (and a few other cillian characters lmao) but i hope you enjoy this one!

The backroom was in total disrepair. Chairs were tipped over, things were thrown from tables, coins scattered everywhere and marks of bludgeonings on the walls. The poor little room was merely a shell of itself, its personality and life battered away. You could still hear your husband’s jaded laughter as he made fun of John for wanting to marry Lizzie Stark, but mere minutes ago now seemed like a lifetime away.

Scudboat sat as Arthur poured him whisky, and he explained how the Lees, “the whole lot of ‘em”, came in and destroyed the betting backroom. He was ambushed, he said, or he would have done a better job defending it. You held Tommy’s hands as fear made your own shake, and your husband sighed. “Find what can be salvaged,” he said, narrowly missing John’s angry fit as he kicked a box over. “Anything is better than nothing.”

“This is terrible,” you sniffled, and Tommy extracted his handkerchief for you. It was one that you had bought for him right after you had gotten married and just before he went to war, and you were always amazed that the silky cloth made it as far as it did. You dabbed at your eyes, scowling at your dark makeup that came off, and your heart beat fiercely against your ribcage for a moment. “The children. Was Finn here for this, Scudboat? Or Thomasine?”

“Nah,” he said. “Finn was off in town; Thomasine ain’t come home from school yet.”

“Oh, Tommy, they can’t see the house like this!” you whimpered and clutched your husband’s arm. “It’ll upset Thomasine too much. I’ll fetch her from school and keep her away from the house for a while until this is mostly fixed.”

Tommy nodded wordlessly in agreement, and he began to take off his cap, but he quickly stopped. He was fixated on something on the floor at his feet, and you looked down to match his gaze, only to be greeted with the big leather book that held your most prized possessions: your photographs. You kept the album in the betting room because it was always filled with people, witnesses in case something happened, and, really, who would want to ruin Tommy Shelby’s wife’s photographs?

Your knees crunched on glass as you lowered yourself to the album, and you took it in your shaking hands. The dark green leather was stained black with spilled ink and oil, obscuring your gold-foiled name on the spine, and you opened the book with a creak of the old pages. You didn’t want to have to assess the damage, but the first page already had you weeping pathetically again. The first photograph, the first one ever taken of you and Tommy, sitting and laughing together as Ada tried out her new camera, years and years ago at fifteen and thirteen. It was gone. The page was yellowed all around where the photograph should be, but the picture itself was gone. You wanted to throw the book across the room and scream; you weren’t concerned with material things, many girls from Small Heath were the same way, but those photographs were your pride and joy. The next page was a formal picture taken of Tommy wearing his Army uniform, his lanky seventeen-year-old build a little too small for the uniform that he would grow into. The corner of the photograph was torn but, thankfully, mostly intact.

The third page made you press the book to your chest. Your wedding photographs. You and Tommy had gotten married quickly, two days before he had to go to France, and, in your haste, you hadn’t been able to afford much. You could only afford a single copy of each photograph: one of you in your Sunday best that was your wedding dress, one of Tommy in his uniform, and one of you together. All three photographs were torn to shreds, settled in the spine of the book, waiting for you to find them. Those wedding photographs were the most important thing in the world to you, and now they were gone. Not even pasting glue could fix it. “Tom!” you sobbed, pressing the back of your wrist to your mouth. “O-Our wedding photographs! Th-They’re all ripped up!”

Your husband’s attention went from Scudboat to you, and he walked over to you and knelt down next to you. He took the small bits of photographs in his fingers, examining them intently, and he sighed heavily. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, and your sobs grew heavy. If Tommy was resigned to fate, then there was no chance of them being fixed. “I’m sorry.”

“We-We don’t have any extras, do we?” you stuttered. Your mouth felt dry as your fingers tried to match the ripped edges of photographs up, but they were too far gone. “Tom, d-do we have any others? Th-These aren’t the only ones we have, right?”

Tommy sat down next to you and put an arm around you, and he watched you frantically sob for just a second more before he used his strength to pull you into his chest. The photo album fell out of your hands, and you clutched your husband as you wailed in sorrow. Your wedding photos were gone.

“Mummy?” you heard a little voice call from the doorway, and you turned to see your wee daughter, Miss Thomasine Sophia Shelby, standing at the door. She was holding her school books in her arms, the pink ribbon in her hair coming loose. Thomasine was born just after Tommy come home from France, five years ago, and she looked like a Shelby, dark hair and bright eyes, but she had her father’s smile. “Mummy, why’re you crying?”

You sniffled and wiped at your eyes, not caring that you streaked your makeup to hell and back, and you mumbled, “People came into the house, did us over. I-I’m just sad, that’s all.” You didn’t want to worry your daughter with the real reason why you were so upset, because, truly, you felt silly for being so distraught at fucking photographs. It felt ridiculous for you, as a grown woman, a mother, to be crying over photographs.

Thomasine ran to you and sat her small body in your lap, and she wrapped her small arms around you. “Don’t be sad,” Thomasine told you, and you laughed humorlessly. “It’s okay, Mummy.”

You sniffled and soothed your hand down Thomasine’s hair— the ends of her long hair were turning a little ginger, just the same as her father’s tended to do in the sun— and you kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love,” you whispered. “Hug your father, he’s sad too.”

Thomasine crawled out of your lap and into Tommy’s, and Thomasine started to suck her thumb as Tommy stood up and settled his daughter firmly on his hip. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you sniffled as you gathered the soiled photo album up in your grip and stood up on your own. “If you find any of ‘em,” Tommy called to the room, and he gestured to the album in your arms. “Bring ‘em to her, don’t waste time. Yeah?”

You hardly slept that night. After securing the house and making sure that there wasn’t any other part of it that the Lees had touched, you had tried to go about your life normally, but it was difficult to pretend like you didn’t know that, at any time, rivals could enter your home and slaughter every last one of you. You put Thomasine to bed after dinner, and your girl fell asleep quickly, but you yourself were awake for hours. Tommy had taken your photo album and put it away in his wardrobe; “If you keep it, you’ll fret over it forever.” He was right, of course, because, when the sun came up, you had tugged it out and was trying to sort through the scraps of photographs on your bedroom floor. The room was cold and part of you wished that you could be in bed, holding your husband close, but you needed to do it for yourself. You had managed to salvage a single photograph by the time Tommy was blinking himself awake, and you sniffled as you beckoned him over. “Tommy, look!” you exclaimed. “I-It’s Thomasine!”

“Jesus, woman,” Tommy sighed groggily. “Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Her baby picture, look!”

Tommy reached down for you and he took your hand, and he helped you stand up, his hands going to hold your cheeks. “I know you’re having a hard time with this,” he whispered. “But obsessing over it is only going to make it worse. They’re as good as gone, darling.”

“B-But—” you sniffled, and Tommy shook his head.

“You have to let it go,” He told you firmly. “Come back to bed, you don’t have to be awake for hours.”

“Oh, Tommy,” you sighed, shuffling back up to bed. Your joints hurt from sitting on the floor practically all night, and your vision watered up as you watched Tommy gather up the album and photograph scraps and set them back in his wardrobe. “What am I going to do? All of my favorite memories are lost.”

“You still have the memories in your head, love,” Tommy told you, sitting next to you. You leaned into him and pressed your cheek to his warm chest, and you sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I just…” you mumbled. “Our wedding pictures is the thing I’m most upset about. We were so young, and that was before everything went to shit, and we were so happy…”

“We’re still happy,” Tommy assured you. “We’re happier now, because we have Thomasine. We’re a complete family now.”

“You know what I mean,” you said. “We were poor kids, and-and looking at those pictures gave me hope that you’d come home when you were in France. They were my lifeline for a long time, and to have them ruined like this…”

Tommy’s lips formed into a thin line, and he rubbed your back comfortingly as you finally laid down and tried to settle into sleep. Your sleep was thin, hardly even deep enough to call proper sleep, but you finally woke up and got out of bed when you heard shouting down in the bottom of the house. You were used to that, but you still felt like you ought to make sure everything was alright, so you pulled yourself from bed and went about groggily getting ready for the day, slipping on a dress and spraying on perfume before descending the stairs.

The noise seemed to be coming from the back room, the ruined betting room, and you carefully pushed back the plush curtains and opened the doors to see a sight. Your eyes first landed on your husband, dressed in his old uniform. It certainly looked too small for him, tugging a little at his chest, but you clenched your teeth together at the sight. How long has it been since you saw him in the pea-soup-green uniform? Five years, at least. “Tommy,” you said softly. You couldn’t help yourself from stepping closer to him as his head snapped to look at you, and his hard gaze softened in the way it always did when he saw you. He never subjected you to his steely gaze, and, whenever you saw it, it always reminded you of what a feared man he was.

“Fuck, love, what’re you doing down here?” Tommy asked. “You’re supposed to be asleep still.”

“Heard shouting,” you said softly. The other men were bustling around the room as you smoothed your hands up Tommy’s chest, and your eyes went all watery again. “This isn’t happening, please, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked. “Talk to me, darling, what’s the matter?”

“How long have you known?” you asked, sniffling. “Leaving us like this, how could you?”

“What?”

“The uniform, Tommy!” you cried. “You’re being called to the war again, why else would you have this shit on?”

Tommy grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead, and he angled your head to the side. Arthur stood there, behind a massive camera, angled at a blank space on the wall, and your breath caught in your throat. “What is this?” you asked.

“I’m not being called back,” Tommy explained. “I got to thinking about our wedding pictures, and I went to see the photographer who made them. He said the film was too old and that they couldn’t make you new copies, so the next best thing was to retake them.”

“Oh?” you asked. You sniffled and wiped your nose, and you gently reached out to touch the camera. “We… We’re retaking our wedding pictures?”

“With a few adjustments,” Tommy said. “Back then, I couldn’t afford to even get you so much as a bouquet, but now… Well, I took your measurements to a dress shop, and even though the dress was pre-made and only adjusted to you…”

“Tommy?” you whimpered.

“I got you a wedding dress, love,” Tommy told you. “Better than the flour-bag Sunday best that you had on.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands, and you sobbed once before flying to your husband and crushing him in a hug. “Oh, Tommy!” you cried. “Thank you! Can I see it?”

“Pol’s got it in the kitchen,” Tommy told you. “Go put it on, why don’t you let me see it?”

The dress was beautiful. Eggshell-colored silk that fell below your knees with long sleeves and deep neckline, very fashionable and pretty, and it fit you like a glove as Polly helped you into it. She primped you a little, fixing your hair and patting red rouge onto your lips, and she upturned a vase next to the stove and handed you the bouquet of wildflowers that Thomasine had picked a few days earlier. You felt timid and almost nervous as Polly escorted you back to the betting room, and you cleared your throat once you passed the threshold, afraid that, if you spoke, your voice would give up on you.

Tommy looked to you in an instant, and he gave you a small smile as he stepped towards you. “Aren’t you a sight?” he said in his rumbling timbre, putting his hands on your hips, and he kissed your lips for a moment before he added, “Thomasine might get a brother before the day’s over, if you keep looking that beautiful.”

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, and he steered you in front of the camera as you smoothed down your dress. You were suddenly nervous, and you clutched Tommy’s hand as Arthur cranked the camera, preparing it to go off. “Tom?”

“M’right here, pet,” Tommy said, squeezing your hand. “Just smile; everything will be fine.”

By the time night fell, you had a whole slew of new film, new pictures to replace the ruined ones. Recreations of your wedding pictures, an updated picture of a smiling Thomasine, even one of Tommy kissing you when the camera went off on accident. Thomasine was tangled in your skirts then, gazing up at her daddy, and you looked at the film as you sat by the fire that night, smiling and admiring it. That was your favorite memory; you, your husband, and your daughter, smiling, laughing, loving. It was perfect.

[strwbmei]

Halloween Special.

summary: "accidentally" summoning a demon turns into a heavenly experience

contains: afab reader, porn with plot, soft sex, sub!reader, succubus!elysia, a bit of fluff, somnophilia (?), soft dom!elysia, monsterfucking, virgin!reader, pet names,

pairing(s): elysia x reader

a/n: happy birthday to my wife!!! found this draft on my old account and it seemed perfect since it's Halloween season and it's also Elysia's birthday, so I decided to finish it

A few days ago, your professor had assigned your class to write an essay on any topic; and demons happened to pique your interest.

Long story short— the book you bought for research happened to include a guide on summoning these demons. Well, you called it a guide, but it was more of a ritual if you were being honest.

Of course, not that you ever thought of using it.

You flipped through the pages, skimming along the images and descriptions. Once you saw the word 'succubus', you had to do a double take. The mere thought of a beautiful succubus softly dominating you in bed and guiding you through everything was enough to make your cheeks flare up as red as a tomato...

Okay. You're a horny college student— but you aren't a stupid one. Sex demon or regular demon, you don't need the presence of either in your already hectic life.

You put the book away, not giving it much thought. The deadline is 3 weeks away, and you're tired. Research can wait. For now, you'd try to get some much needed sleep.

As hard as you tried to fall asleep, you just.. couldn't. It felt as if the book was calling out to you; and there was a name echoing throughout your mind— Elysia. A name so beautiful, yet it cursed you with sleeplessness and senseless yearning.

Goddammit.

You sighed as you begrudgingly followed the thankfully detailed instructions on the book. Luckily, the ritual for summoning succubi was fairly simple compared to the others. It can't be helped— you thought.

You were just taking a more hands-on approach for research purposes. Yeah. You definitely didn't want to meet a hot succubus lady. That would be absolutely preposterous.

NSFW below the cut !

A few minutes passed. Nothing. Maybe you did something wrong? No, you're sure you followed the instructions to the tee.

Fifteen minutes now. Still nothing.

You sigh, finally giving up. It was dumb to believe the guide would work, and that demons even existed in the first place. It did at least manage to get rid of the weird name that was stuck in your head, so there's that.

Not even bothering to turn off the lights, you yawn as you lay down in bed. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment nipping at you as you drift off to sleep.

However, all of it disappears when you awake to the sound of birds tweeting cheerfully and the warmth of the sunlight shining through the windows. Was it just you, or did the world seem much more colorful? Amazingly, you slept like a log. Even though you just woke up, you already felt energized and refreshed and-

Who is that lady at the foot of your bed?

You tried to scream, but it came out as a choked gasp.

The lady had long pink hair tied into a low ponytail, elven ears that twitched every once in a while, and a beautiful face that lit up once she saw you open your eyes. "⊓□⦝⦝⟃ >⊓□⟔□, ⸅⟔□>>⋖ ꓶ｢⟔⦝!"

Her voice was distorted and monstrous, yet at the same time akin to a soothing lullaby. You tilt your head in confusion, still half asleep. She let her mouth hang open for a bit, closing it as it formed into a small smile. She clears her throat. "Good morning, pretty girl! Slept well?"

You simply stared at her in awe as you nodded absentmindedly. What is happening? Who is this gorgeous beauty and why is she in your room?

A realization hits you as you look down and see the bat-like wings that went from the small of her back and wrapped around the front of her thighs along with the skimpy outfit she's wearing; a flush of red creeping up your cheeks at the same time.

Oh.

"I forgot humans used a different language these days.." She mutters to herself, smiling widely as she observes your every reaction. "I'm Elysia, the succubus you summoned!" Elysia exclaimed cheerfully, clasping her hands together.

She eyed you up and down, licking her lips as she crawled over to you. "What a treat we have here.." now that you're a bit, y'know, awake— you have the time to process how sweet Elysia's voice is to your ears.

Everything about her bewitched you. From her luscious locks of pink hair, her striking blue eyes that looked upon you with their loving gaze, to her plump lips that seemed perfect for kissing— amongst... many other things.

Elysia; meaning perfection, beauty, and paradise— the woman in front of you did not fit the name, for the name was made for her instead. Elysia was paradise personified.

Her laugh, similar to a melodious choir, brought you back to reality. "If you keep staring at me like that.. even I'll get embarrassed~" The warmth of her touch brings you to realize how close Elysia is to you, and the situation you're in. The situation you're about to be in.

You sat up immediately. "Wait, this is a misunderstand-" you gulp as Elysia places a finger on your lips, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"You're saying you don't want to have sex with me?"

Okay. She got you there.

Elysia takes your silence as a yes, giggling as she kisses your forehead softly. "You're so cute, I could just gobble you up!" She spoke as if she were talking to a puppy, yet her eyes had an underlying glint of lust.

Unbeknownst to you, you were the first to summon Elysia for, more or less, 50,000 years. The succubus had a lot of pent-up sexual frustration, and you were the unfortunate soul that had to take accountability for it.

"Maybe I'll do just that... What do you say, beautiful?" She tucks your hair behind your ears, her gaze warm and reassuring. Elysia was horny, but she placed your comfort first and foremost.

Did she just call you beautiful? More importantly, did she just say that she wanted to eat you out? You prayed that you were able to keep a straight face in the few moments that passed; that you were able to hold back the elated grin that threatened to curl on your lips.

You were thrilled. Exhilarated, even. Whether you wanted Elysia to know that or not, the shade of red tinting your cheeks and the way you rubbed your thighs together was enough to tell her the truth. "I'd.. love that."

Elysia wasted no time in removing your clothes, leaving a trail of kisses on your bare skin as she went. They were sloppy and hungry; yet at the same time assuring and tender. She took her time to appreciate the work of art that was your body. Her touch wandered all over you— from your shoulders, to your arms, to the small of your back. "You're so pretty like this."

Though it was part of Elysia's job as a succubus to tell her clients what they wanted to hear, she genuinely meant every word. The woman wanted you to know that, and she'd gladly show you with her actions.

She made her way down to your thighs, gently spreading your legs apart as she lowered herself to meet your glistening cunt. You sigh shakily when her warm breath teases your entrance.

"Are you nervous?" Elysia smiled up at you. "No, it's just- this is my first time, so..." You trailed off, eyes darting side to side to keep from making eye contact.

She giggled at your reaction, planting a soft kiss to your clit; the gesture making your breath hitch. "Just relax, let me take care of you." She reassured you. With the knowledge that she was taking your first time, Elysia was even more determined to make you feel good.

"Besides, I don't mind teaching a cutie like you how to please a woman." She winked before shallowly thrusting her tongue into your folds; experimentally dragging the wet muscle along your walls and eliciting a few moans from you.

Elysia's eyes attentively observed each and every reaction— whether it be the way your head fell back whenever her nose rubbed against your clit or the way you moaned a little louder when her tongue pressed flat against a specific spot.

"Fuck.." You hissed under your breath, knuckles turning pale from how hard you were gripping the sheets. It seems you aren't the only one enjoying this; you could feel Elysia's movements grow hungrier, slender hands spreading your thighs apart even more.

Your other hand pushed her head down as you muttered apologies in between moans. She didn't seem to mind; only working harder to please you as her thumb reached to play with your clit. "A-ah... Elysia..!"

Even with your eyes screwed shut with pleasure, you can feel her smile against your cunt. "Mm... You sound so pretty moaning my name." She groans, growing hungrier and more relentless in its pace. She just can't control herself; can't help wanting to taste you.

Her eyes looked up at you with lust and need as you bucked your hips to meet her tongue, making a mess of her face as you came all over it. Elysia continues tongue-fucking you throughout your orgasm, helping you ride out your high.

After Elysia deems that she has prolonged your orgasm to its limit, she crawls over to your exhausted body. "Is this a dream?" You pant out between breaths, eyes still shut as beads of sweat rolled down your forehead.

She giggled at your question. "If it was," You opened your eyes to find the woman giving you a warm smile; gaze as reassuring and comforting as ever. "would you want to wake up?"

"..."

"Then, just let me make you feel good." Elysia's smile transformed into a grin, eyes on either side of your thighs as she straddled your lap. She isn't quite done with you just yet.

It seems that you were, though.

You groan as you're woken up by that stupid, stupid alarm that just had to ring when you were getting to the good part. Ugh.

How were you supposed to focus on studying for the whole day after... whatever that was? Why did you summon her in the first place?

Can... you summon her again?

╰┈➤ taglist ; @teethoftheeditor , @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @faerierambles , @the-night-owl-blr

[lovezbrownies]

Is this an act of love? (Yan!Military Chief x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: You ignore your wife in favor of a book, which has her infuriarated. But what happens when you become upset over the destruction of the book?

Gen Ludenhart x Reader

Warnings: Past physical torture to reader, reader fears Gen, Gen threatens you, no use of Y/N, possible minor character death.

It’s been 5 years since you’ve been forced to marry Gen Ludenhart. You had tried as hard as you could to get away from her— yet she always found you and when she did she would make it very clear how upset she was with you. Using various methods of torture, letting you stew in the pain and suffering before healing you with her magic. The honorable Chief of Military Gen Ludenhart was all but honorable.

However, now that 3 years have passed since your last failure you’ve accepted the situation. You will only ever die if your wife allows it, which means you’re essentially immortal. Since you’ve been so good, Gen would buy you everything you’d want, no matter the price. This meant you had every new gadget and every book that has ever piqued your interest.

You were okay with this arrangement. At least now you aren’t being tortured, and you can focus on whatever activity you want– well with your clingy wife in tow, but you’ve gotten used to her presence and can completely forget if she was there to begin with. Which brings up the newest issue in your marriage with the coddling devil.

The past two months you’ve been obsessed with this book series that Gen bought for you one random day. It was a very long series with very long books, so to say the least it has consumed much of your time. Whenever Gen would nag you over the lack of attention you would hum, give her a hug, a few pats on the head and you’d go back to reading the story. Gen usually wasn’t bothered by your occasional hyper fixation on certain things, they always come and go, you’ll always come back to her for affections.

Yet. Gen stood behind the library’s couch tapping her foot furiously against the floor. “Well? Aren’t you going to greet me, my love.” Her voice was angry and strained, glaring down at your laid back form, you were relaxed and very immersed into your book. So much so that you hadn’t heard your wife call out for you when she got back home. “Hm..? Oh, uh, sorry…  I’m… a bit busy…” You’d trail off every now and then from how focused you were on reading how the main character is going to triumph in her final battle.

Gen, tired with all the lack of affection, yanked the book out of your hands. “Hey!! Give it back! I haven’t finished it yet!!” You got up, reaching for your book but Gen hid it behind her back. Pushing you back down on the couch she began lecturing you about how hurt she felt over how you’ve been neglecting her recently. But in all honesty every word went in one ear and out the other, all your brain could possibly think of was the book and how the hero will prevail in her battle.

Your wife knew that you weren’t there at all, you’d do the same expression anytime you wished to escape the harsh reality and put yourself into your fantasy worlds. Sighing she softly threw the book next to you. “Nevermind, just come to me when you finish the stupid book. I will know if you don’t.” You smiled as you tried to find the page you were last on, Gen walked away dejected and hurt.

Thankfully you weren’t stupid, and immediately went to her when you finished the series, finally. But this is not how she wanted it to be. You and Gen lying on her bed, your body on top of hers, head snuggling into her chest as you blabbered on about the book’s hero, Liya something or other. “-And then as soon as the battle ended Liya looked all over for her lover, but she found them half dead, and so with the last bit of her power she gave it all away just to make sure her lover stays alive, then-”

Gen loved that you were talking to her with little to no fear but if she hears you squeal over this Liya woman one more time she might kill the author and burn every copy of the series. “Darling,” Gen cut off your rambling. “Has anything else happened to you today? Have you left that book at all? Gone out for a bit of fresh air, hm?” You looked up at her, shook your head no, and continued with what you were saying. Gen could only rub her hands across your back and nod along whenever you looked up to check if she was actually listening.

It’s been a long tiring week, most of the time Gen’s been busy with work, so when she would come home she would always ask for peace and quiet and for you to cuddle her to sleep. Come Friday morning, what she didn’t expect was to wake up and find you reading one of the wretched books of the series. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve finished the series and you’re still consuming that garbage? 

Usually in these types of situations she’d let you go shopping with her, but not even the outside world can pull you away from the imaginary fairytale you’ve been so obsessed over. “Dear. Get back to sleep.” Gen commanded, she used a tone of voice she knew you feared, and yet, it had no effect. “Yes, Gen, just a moment… One more chapter…” Gen sighed, her anger bubbling up. “No. No moments. No chapters. Sleep now or I’ll burn every book I’ve bought you.” Thankfully this time you listened, your body tensed as you quickly put the book down on your bedside table and laid back down. You woke up an hour later to Gen’s arms caging you to her, not allowing you to pick up your book at all.

You tried as hard as you could to weasel your way out of her grasp and run off to the library with your beloved book. Gen only squeezed you harder, pulled you tighter, and buried her head into you further. She was tired of your games, maybe this was some sick twisted way of getting back at her for all the pain she’s inflicted upon you.

Today, Gen finally managed to pull you away from your fantasy world and outside to a restaurant. Yet you still kept talking about the book, well that was before Gen cut you off. “One more word about that book and I will slam you on this table and fuck you in front of everyone here.” Her voice was low and threatening, the threat shocking you into silence you didn’t dare speak, allowing Gen to dominate the conversation as she usually does.

Today’s outing was actually quite enjoyable for once, aside from that one threat, all went smoothly. Gen took you out to your favorite restaurant, let you go wild in your favorite stores, and then finally went to the park to enjoy the scenery and eat ice cream together, which you were currently doing. It almost felt like a normal relationship, but it wasn’t, you won’t dwell on that however since it only ever brings pain.

At the moment you were both sitting on one of the park benches, ice creams in hand. “Gen?” Your wife hums in response, you snuggled closer to her side. “I really appreciated what you did for me today.” Oh. Oh, she could just eat you whole. Her sweet spouse. If she can keep this up for a while you might completely forget about that stupid character and focus on her once again. “Anything for you, honey. I love you.” Of course you never reciprocate her “I love you’s’’ but it doesn't matter. A little more solitude and isolation will fix that.

Gen and you finally made it home, it’s now late at night you move ahead of your wife, looking around for your book in the living room. “Oh would you look at that, my love, you walked 10,000 steps! We should go ou-” A sharp pained gasp interrupted Gen. Gen, concerned, hurried over to the fireplace, where you stood. Looking down at the blazing fire she saw small remnants of your book, used as fire kindle.

It was quite- No, it was silent, not a single peep was uttered. You were staring down at the fire, emotionless, while Gen was solely focused on you and your reactions. You just stood there, unmoving, unchanging. “Do you want me to buy the books again, dear?” Gen broke the silence, trying her hardest to stay cool, so you don’t break down in tears. If this has been at the beginning of your relationship she wouldn’t have been so quick to offer something like that, she’d tell you to suck it up and move on. You’ve obviously affected her over the years.

Meanwhile, you stood still, unfeeling. You knew she’d do something like this, Gen’s loyal little maid. Reina. “No… It’s fine. This was inevitable.”  Inevitable? What the hell are you talking about? Gen frowned, she turned her body fully to you, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean ‘inevitable’? How would the torching of your beloved books be inevitable, my love?” For the first time you finally showed a hint of emotion. Your lips pursed, your eyebrows furrowed and you turned to sit on one of the armchairs in the room.

Gen followed after you, kneeling on her knees in front of your seated form, her eyes begging for an answer. Wow, did she turn soft. Gen grabbed your hands, engulfing them in her much larger hands. A sigh escaped out of you, noticing how open she’s been emotionally, how loving she’s being, how sincere. “I- Well. You’ve been so open about how you’ve hated my books… I just thought eventually you would do something about it,” You looked off to the side sheepishly, not used to being so vulnerable to her.

You continued, ‘’I thought you’d probably tell Reina to burn it while we were gone and I guess I’m right…” Gen frowned, never would she ever do something like that! Why in the world would you ever assume that! Sure she threatened to burn the damned books for a while but they were all empty threats! You had to have known she was just kidding! Right? But then it clicked. The only person to be able to do something like that would be Reina. Sure the mansion has its fair share of servants but Reina served the parts of the mansion you resided in.

Gen got up, gave you a quick kiss on your head and said, “Give me a moment, dear, this will all be resolved soon.” You stared at her as she walked off, curious as to what would happen. You wanted to follow after her and see what she’s doing but knowing her she probably is going to rage at Reina. So you stayed put, not wanting to incur her wrath anymore. You’ve experienced enough pain for a lifetime.

And it seems you were eternally grateful for not following her. The next day Gen told you to accompany her and interview new personal servants for your wing of the mansion. You don’t know what happened to Reina and you did not want to know. She never really liked you to begin with. So why bother to worry for her?

‘Gen’s attitude is rubbing off on me too much…’

[agendabymooner]

dadventures with the schuminis: rock it, minnie! || ms47 scenario (1)

dad!mick schumacher (x ofc) centric

EXTENSION TO THE LITTLE SCHUMINIS

Summary: A series in which Mick Schumacher tackles the challenges and moments of being a father to his little carbon copies with his father Michael Schumacher (alongside his in-law Sebastian Vettel, who continues to deny that he was a grandfather while accepting his role as the Schumacher kids’ Opa).

Scenario summary: With Minna’s first birthday coming up, Mick struggles to find the perfect gift that she’ll learn to cherish forever. Thankfully, Michael still knows how to make Gina’s old rocking horse and Sebastian knew how to operate the electric sander. AND Michael and Sebastian are insufferable as in-laws.

Content warning: dad!Mick Schumacher, grandpa!Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being competitive as grandparents, Seb denying he’s a grandpa, terms of endearment, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, Mick making a dirty joke, brief German translations, mentions of grandma!OFC (Bel Vettel) spoiling Minna

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

Mick Schumacher knew that his off days were numbered. He hated that he had to count his days and immediately head back to the road and race. 

But he did what he had to do for the sake of giving his daughter a better future— whether it had something to do with their financial situation (they were rich as hell) or her desire to follow Mick’s footsteps to become a racer (Mick was praying to god she didn’t want to be a racer), he persisted on staying and racing for the season for the sake of his family. 

Regardless of his limited days off, he did what he could do and participated in the event planning for his firstborn's first birthday celebration. His wife, Barbie, insisted that she and Gina were handling it well, but he wanted to do something special alongside them. 

And so Barbie and Gina assigned him to find his daughter a special gift for the celebration. “Something that would mean to her in the long run,” his sister said. 

His face paled a little when she said that. It was so cryptic and vague. It was just vague. 

He thought about the theme of the party at first. Minna Elisa’s first birthday party was running with the farm theme.

When it was first suggested by Gina, Mick almost snorted to ridicule the thought. “We already grew up around them,” he said, “I don’t think Minna would appreciate that. Why can’t it be just horses?” 

Then Barbie and Mick’s mother Corinna agreed to Gina’s idea. After all, Minnie was already showing a great interest in animals! Specifically horses.

Horses. 

RIGHT! Mick almost yelled and stood up, looking for his old photo albums. He skimmed through the pages and wondered what his and Gina’s rooms looked like before in Texas. The Schumacher siblings loved their home in Texas— especially their rooms. Mick’s room was converted to be Kimi and Stefan Vettel’s guest rooms but they remained with the same theme of western style and horses. 

Then, just as he browsed through his pictures with Gina in her bedroom, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the pink and blue wooden rocking horse that his baby self sat on while Gina stood next to the boy. 

He knew what he wanted to get his little girl now.

And so the first thing he did was phone his parents. He called Corinna’s phone, but it was Michael who had answered the call.

“Mick?” 

“Oh, hey Dad, is mom there?” Mick nearly facepalmed. This was literally Corinna’s phone he had called.

“Am I that boring to you, Mickie?” Michael scoffed, making Mick roll his eyes. “I can hear your eyes rolling from here. Seriously, is there anything I can help with? Your mom is out at the back right now.”

“Yes, actually,” Mick cleared his throat and stared at the picture of him and Gina as he continued, “I saw this photo of me and Gina in the ranch— her room actually. Gina had this wooden rocking horse and I’m wondering if we still have it there. I’m hoping to ask Gina if I can get it and restore it as a gift for Minnie’s birthday?” 

“Oh. That pink and blue one?”

“Yup, that one.”

“Gina broke it when she was five and we had it thrown out,” Michael almost sighed at the memory.

Mick winced when he learned the news. “Why- ugh Gina.”

“We told her that she can’t ride it anymore but she was persistent,” Michael chuckled. “Why would you restore it when you can just buy one?”

“Because it would mean a lot more if Minna got the same one her Aunt Gina has,” Mick murmured. “She’ll see it in the pictures and be like ‘Wow this was my Auntie G’s!” 

“Huh,” Michael let out a hum. “That’s… that’s very thoughtful, Mick. But sadly we don’t have it in Texas, anymore.” 

Mick let out a sigh of defeat. He could just always get Minna a new one, but it would mean a lot if his daughter got something from their childhood that she would enjoy as well. 

Michael had a different thought, however. 

The 7-time world champion had spoken up again after hearing absolutely nothing from his son, “It was something that I made from scratch, Mick.” 

Mick’s eyes quirked at the sound of this as he asked, “You made it?” 

“Ralf and I did,” Michael replied, referring to Mick’s uncle as Michael continued, “I still remember what it looks like and if you’d like, we can make it. Though I doubt that you’d have time to—“

“NO, NO, NO!” Mick panicked, wincing at the volume of his voice as he looked back at the entryway of the living room. Barbie would kill him if his tone woke the baby up. Then he began speaking as quietly as possible, “I’m not busy on my next off— surely it won’t take us long to make it right?”

“You have to rest for the—“

“—Dad, I’m begging you right now please help me,” Mick pleaded desperately. “I have a doubleheader after my next off and I wouldn’t have time in the future like Dad please.”

Michael immediately interrupted Mick, “Mick for the love of god, stop freaking out—“

“—Sorry,” Mick muttered. “Didn’t mean to freak out. ‘S just… I haven’t done anything for Minnie’s birthday and this is her first birthday. My first kid’s first birthday. I’m already missing out on most of her life and I can’t even do anything for her first birthday? What kind of a father would I be?”

Michael understood. He understood fully what Mick felt and he wouldn’t deny that. He was a father as well, and he rarely saw Gina and Mick during the season— he had often labelled himself as a shitty father for it. It was only fair that Michael understood how Mick felt now that he, too, was a father. 

But instead of expressing his empathy outright, Michael only sighed and spoke, “Lassen Sie uns morgen mit klaren Köpfen beginnen.” Let’s start with clear minds tomorrow.

“Was meinst du, Dad?” What do you mean, Dad? Mick asked. 

“We’ll plan out what to do in two weeks then start,” Michael told his son through the phone and instructed, “It’ll take us a while to figure it out so I need you to clear your brain and sleep it off. Don’t get too stressed, Mickie. ‘s not good for you— Minnie’s a baby but she can feel stress when it’s nearby.” 

“Okay,” Mick cleared his throat, now determined to stay sane for a little while. “I’ll do that.”

“Don’t get too antsy about not being able to do anything,” Michael reassured him. “Everyone around you already knows you’re doing more than you think.” 

“Alright,” Mick murmured softly, “th- thanks dad. Say hi to mom for me, yeah?”

“You guys~” Barbie had walked into the deck of their home, her face offering her husband Mick and father-in-law Michael a puzzled look. 

“You two have been here for hours,” Barbie told them as if she was worried. She had been hearing some strange noise at the deck earlier today alongside the murmuring. Knowing Mick and Michael, she assumed that they were just relaxing at the back. 

Yet here she was, looking at them with a baffled look as she watched Mick’s hand pull away from the half-cut lumber and electric saw.

“No we’re not,” Michael quipped, “we’ve been here for two.” 

“Hours,” Barbie emphasized. “Minna just—“ 

“Da! Da!” Corinna had followed suit and walked out with eleven-month-old Minna in her arms, grinning as the baby continued to babble happily.

“Yeah, what Minna said,” Barbie murmured, stepping back as she said, “she just woke up from her nap.”

“Aw, is that right, meine kleine Minnie?” My little Minnie. Michael cooed, arms extending to reach for his granddaughter as he carried Minna in his arms. He grinned heavily as he began to move around with the little girl. “Did you have a good nap, liebe?”

“Pip!” Minna shrieked, only knowing that word alongside ‘Ma’ and ‘Da.’ “Pip!”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Michael hummed before pressing a kiss on the little one’s chubby cheek. “I assume it’s a yes.”

“Oh definitely a yes,” Barbie chuckled, “I know what Mick looks like waking up from a nap— she's definitely a Schumacher who had a good nap.” 

Mick groaned playfully, earning a giggle from Barbie. 

“By the way,” Barbie brought up, “Seb is coming over with Kimi and Stefan.” 

“Oh great, look, Dad, Seb’s helping us,” Mick looked at Michael. 

“What’re you two doing anyways?” Corinna asked, her eyes looking at the scattered tools and piled-up lumber. Barbie found herself looking as well, curious eyes now trained at the cans of paint as she looked back at the father-son duo. 

“Stuff,” Mick shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wow aren’t you specific,” Corinna muttered.

“It’s for Minnie’s birthday,” Michael waved off the two women, “don’t worry about it. It’ll be done by the end of the day.”

“Minnie’s birthday is in four weeks,” Mick continued, “I wanted to make something for her so… yeah.”

“You don’t even know how to make something wood-related, Mick,” Barbie replied with a raised brow.

Mick then murmured, “I’ll show you something wood-related— ow, Mom!” Corinna smacked Mick on the back of his head and glared at him, gesturing back to Minna. 

Michael snorted aloud, making Minna laugh at the sound. 

“That’s your child in front of you, Mick,” Barbie warned with a cheeky grin. “Careful with your words now, yeah?” 

Mick only rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if Minna could understand that easily. 

“Besides,” Barbie continued, “shouldn’t you be talking to Seb about… lumber stuff? He’s made an impressive apiary before.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael scoffed and waved off the offer, “I’ve made this before. It’s nothing I can’t do. Sebastian’s never done this— he wouldn’t be that good without any instruction.”

Corinna and Barbie traded looks. If there was something that the Schumachers and Vettels knew, it was that Sebastian was good at a lot of things— so the fact that Michael was underestimating his woodworking skills? That definitely wouldn’t sit right with Seb especially if he’s heard of it.

Sebastian Vettel wasn’t usually like this, but when Corinna brought up Michael’s comments about his skills the 4-time world champion couldn’t help but lean against the deck railing with a smirk. In his hand was a bottle of beer, watching the Schumacher men struggle with sanding the wood surfaces that they’ve cut. Or rather, they didn’t know how to operate the electric sander. 

Mick groaned, “Seb— some help please?” He turned to look at the driver, who kept leaning against the railing with a cheeky smile.

“I would but Michael said I can’t be good without ins—“

“Oh come on, have a laugh, Seb,” Michael looked at Sebastian in annoyance, making the man finally cave in and laugh. “Just come help— this is your granddaughter’s gift too—“

“No, don’t call Minnie that,” Sebastian interrupted Michael and shook his head. “Don’t call her my granddaughter.”

“Is she not?” Mick raised a brow. He was merely teasing. After all, Sebastian proudly called himself Barbie’s (foster) father — therefore he was a proud Opa to the little Minna Schumacher. 

Seb just refused to be called a grandfather. He wasn’t that old yet. Fernando Alonso was literally older than him! He sometimes denied that he was a grandfather— but he wouldn’t ever deny Minnie the right to call him Opa.

“Step away,” Sebastian said, now handling the sander as he started it. “You should’ve called me earlier today— I would’ve gone and done all of this.”

“Dad said he could do it, that's why I thought we didn’t need some help,” Mick reasoned.

Sebastian gave his mentor Michael a look and said, “Minna’s not just your granddaughter, Michael. Learn to share responsibilities. I have to spoil her too.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Just sand the whole thing so we can paint it.”

Minna Schumacher’s first birthday party was anything but simple. The little one had charmed people with her signature Schumacher grin and had giggled at almost anything. 

But it wasn’t just her adorable and charming being that turned the environment of the party up a notch. Her little heart-studded cowboy boots gathered the attention of most guests as she slowly walked and stomped around the venue, smiling up at whoever she came across as her mother Barbie assisted her. 

“Oh my, is that my Minnie baby?” Barbie grinned at her mother Bel Vettel as the little one excitedly stomped her feet down. Minna immediately sped up her steps and leaned forward to be reached by Bel. 

The older woman, despite not looking the part, took Minna in her arms and hoisted the baby up with a light grunt. Bel grinned and squealed at Minna, “You are such a big girl now, Minnie! Whatever will Oma do about it?!” 

“Oma,” Minna babbled repeatedly before putting her little hands over Bel’s cheeks. The baby continued to babble as Bel nodded along. 

Bel then looked over at her daughter and smiled, “And you? I’ve heard you’re feeling sick lately.” 

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully, “It’s hard to keep things a secret in this family, huh?” 

Bel chuckled, “You know that we’re only worried. Are you okay though, Barbie? Corinna said—“

“Nina!” Bel and Barbie chuckled at Minna’s excited expression. 

Bel then continued, “She said that you’re feeling ill— or at least Mick’s been telling her.”

“Mm, yeah,” Barbie hummed, reaching to fix Minna’s pigtails as she continued, “I’ve been throwing up and all that… I think I know—“

“—I knew it,” Bel squealed, bouncing Minna in joy as she cooed at the baby, “Minna’s gonna be a big sis huh? Are you?” 

Barbie chuckled happily, “I have a hunch. Let’s just not tell Mick or the others yet, if that’s okay. I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Bel grinned, pressing kisses on Minna’s face. “I’ve got more babies to spoil— and I thought Stefan and Kimi’s gonna be the only kids I’ll be able to spoil!” 

“I still can’t believe you got her a bag,” Barbie rolled her eyes, making Bel giggle as Barbie continued, “She won’t be able to use that for a while, Bel. She's only a year old.”

“Yeah, but she’s my Minnie baby,” Bel pouted dramatically. “You know I wouldn’t pass up the chance to spoil my little Minnie, no, Bebe?” Bel grinned at the toddler as Minna replied with a laugh.

“Bel,” Barbie sighed, “you got her a Hermes.”

“Only the best from Oma Bel,” the older woman grinned, making Barbie sigh again.

Barbie then said, “Only the best for Minna— I feel like I’ve heard everyone say that.” 

“Of course,” Bel quipped, “everyone wants to be Minna’s favourite. But it seems like her Da and Pippa will win that title sometime soon.” 

They both looked over where the wooden rocking horse was. It was majestic— the handiwork that Mick and Michael made for the little girl. 

It was similar to the one that Mick showed Barbie. But instead of the pastel blue and pink, the rocking horse was painted with the colours of Michael Schumacher’s racing suit back when he won his first world championship— the Benetton blue and yellow accentuated in the wooden horse while his driver number was painted on the sides of the horse.

Barbie chuckled softly, “Don’t say that out loud— Seb might hear. You know that he wants to be Minna’s favourite grandpa no matter how much he refuses to get called one.” 

On the other side of the room, the birthday girl’s dad Mick, and her grandfathers Michael and Sebastian (who still called himself ‘Opa’ rather than ‘Grandpa’) stood as they looked over where the wooden horse was. 

“I’m surprised that it turned out well,” Mick mumbled. Sebastian and Michael hummed in agreement. “Minnie wouldn’t stop going to it since she found it.”

“Well that’s good,” Michael joked, “otherwise I wasted hours of my time for nothing.”

“This was an eye-opener for me, you know?” Mick told the two, making the older men shoot him a puzzled look as he continued with a grin, “Who would’ve thought that it’ll take being Minnie’s grandpa for you to fight over the little things?” 

Sebastian scoffed and Michael rolled his eyes.

Sebastian then grinned, “Had I known that Michael was going to be this insufferable as an in-law, I simply wouldn’t have let you date Barbie—“

Michael’s eyes widened and he looked at Sebastian with a baffled look, making Sebastian and Mick laugh aloud. 

“Oh you two,” Michael muttered. “It’s no wonder why I’m Minna’s favourite.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep lying to yourself, Michael.”

“Yeah, whatever, Dad.”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs was sooo good!!! Do you think they’d let Penelope plan a baby shower with the entire team? Maybe even a sex reveal and Penelope truly trying her best to not reveal it early, the others on Garcia duty to make sure she doesn’t let anything slip LOL

WAIT HOLD ON THAT IS SUCH A CUTE CONCEPT???

and I hope you don't mind me putting my own twist to this, but you literally just reminded me of this insta reel I saw a while back of a couple who was doing a sex reveal privately on the beach with a cake, and then the wife, very innocently pulled out the candle so that the husband could cut it, not realizing the cream sticking on the candle would prematurely reveal the sex to them 😭 now I just can't stop imagining Penelope accidentally doing the same thing KAJJSJEJ IT WOULD BE HILARIOUS

btw thank you so much for reading love bugs, I'm soooo happy you liked it <3333

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You couldn't have been less inclined towards the idea the first time Penelope had brought it to your attention.

The next time she did, Penelope knew better than to come empty-handed. Thankfully for her, JJ and Emily both seemed to be partial towards Penelope's brilliant suggestion.

"I think it'll be great, (Y/N)," JJ had said. "I never did one for Henry, but I helped a girlfriend host hers once. It was fun."

"And I, personally, am always down for a party." Emily grinned.

"But a gender reveal party, guys? Seriously?"

"It'll be great, Beets. Trust me," Penelope swore. "Plus, you don't need to worry your pretty little head with anything. You just sit back, relax, and let us three do the heavy liftings."

Eventually, with the right doses of persuasion and incessant pleading, you agreed to let them throw a sex reveal party for the baby; with one condition: you wanted to keep the whole thing small and simple.

But small and simple weren't exactly Penelope's forte.

JJ and Emily tried their best to keep the tech analyst in check during the entire planning process. It was bad enough that the two of them had to take turns monitoring Penelope to make sure she wasn't stepping out of any line, but when they finally received the envelope from your doctor containing the sex of the baby, Penelope grew even worse.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Penelope yelped when Emily's voice suddenly appeared beside her. The blonde scrambled to click a few buttons on her computer screen to close the page she was looking at before Emily could see what she was doing, but it was too late.

"Wasn't that the archive of the hospital (Y/N) goes to?"

"What? No. Of course not. Why? Did you think I hacked it? That's ridiculous, why would I ever hack--"

"Garcia," Emily's stern voice cut her off. "Did you seriously just hack a hospital's records to find out the sex of (Y/N)'s baby?"

Penelope's silence was all the confirmation that Emily needed.

"It won't happen again," the tech analyst murmured shamefully.

But it did, in fact, happen again.

"Pen?" JJ's eyebrows creased when, just a few days later, she spotted Penelope sitting behind the desk in her office.

"Yes? Oh, hi! Hey, how are ya? Nothing to see here!"

Penelope offered JJ a sheepish smile, one that was intended to conceal trouble but instead spoke of one. JJ's eyes squinted.

"What's that in your hand?"

"Oh, this?" Penelope raised her right hand, showing JJ the figurine of a duck dressed as Superman that she, for some reason, was holding. "It's my new buddy. I got him at a flea market last week. Isn't he cute?"

"I meant your other hand, Pen."

JJ raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Soon enough, Penelope surrendered to JJ's stare of death--the one that she had perfected since becoming a mother--and handed the envelop into JJ's awaiting palm.

"I'm sorry," Penelope said meekly, like a child being scolded after being caught with her hand in the candy jar.

A week before the party was supposed to be held, JJ had safely dropped the cake order at the bakery, along with the sacred envelope that you had entrusted in her care. In hindsight, it looked as though everything was finally going according to plan.

Until the D-day rolled around.

As Emily held down the fort back at Derek's and your shared place, JJ and Penelope resorted to cake duty. JJ let Penelope go into the bakery to grab the cake while she stayed in the car for a quick phone call. When Penelope didn't yet reappear after five minutes, JJ decided to follow her inside to see what was holding her up.

"Hey, Pen?" JJ called to Penelope, who was standing like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the room. In front of her, the baker was holding the box of cake with visible confusion on his face. "What's wrong?"

"She's just been standing there like that. Frozen. Like she saw a ghost," the baker informed.

"Pen?"

"The apron," Penelope whispered.

"What?"

"The apron."

"What ap--oh no."

JJ's eyes widened almost comically when she finally registered what had Penelope looking so stunned.

"Sir," JJ began, "you didn't happen to be working on this cake before we came in, did you?"

"Yeah, I did. I was just finishing it up. Filling in the buttercream and adding some final touches."

JJ sighed. "So, you're saying that the buttercream on your apron is the buttercream you used to fill in the cake?"

JJ's question prompted the baker to look down at the apron he was wearing.

More specifically, at the colored buttercream that spoiled the sex of your baby.

"We've got a situation," JJ said to Emily as soon as she and Penelope found her in your kitchen half an hour later.

"What is it?"

"Me and Pen accidentally found out about the sex."

"You what?!"

"I found out about the sex. I know the sex," Penelope murmured from where she was standing behind JJ. "I know what it is. I know what--hey, you two!"

The three women swiveled their heads towards the doorway, seeing you standing there with Derek practically gluing himself to your back.

"Hi, girls. Everything alright in here?"

"Everything is fine! Why wouldn't it be?" Penelope chuckled nervously.

A frown appeared between Derek's eyebrows. "Babygirl, you okay?"

Penelope waved him off. "I'm fanta... bulous."

"Fantabulous?" Emily whispered.

"Pretty sure it's a combination of fantastic and fabulous." JJ whispered back.

You stared at Penelope in concern. "You sure you're okay, Pen?"

"I'm fine, Beets! Splendid, even! I'm just so happy to see the three of you! God, look at that. You're all so perfect together. My Beets, Chocolate Thunder, and your beautiful baby--"

"Okay!" JJ exclaimed, cutting Penelope off before she could spill the main surprise. "We've still got a lot of work to do here, so... go, both of you."

As soon as you and Derek were out of earshot, JJ said to Penelope, "Pen, you gotta calm down."

"I can't. Oh my God, I can't calm down. It's the knowing. I hate knowing secrets, I'm not good with them."

"It's only for one more hour," Emily reasoned. "You can do this. Just... take a deep breath."

JJ and Emily somehow managed to keep Penelope from spiraling any further, long enough for them to finally commemorate the main event of the night. Your living room was crowded with beloved and very familiar faces: members of the BAU and a few friends of yours and Derek's. The speakers were blasting "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire, and you stood in front of the guests with Derek to your side when Emily and Penelope finally brought out the cake.

"Ladies and gents, we're about to witness a very important moment in history," JJ announced to the room. "In a few minutes, we'll finally find out the sex of the newest member of the (Y/L/N)-Morgan's household!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. You felt Derek give your hip a squeeze.

"Does anyone care to share their guesses?" JJ asked.

Shouts of "boy" and "girl", and a very vague shriek of "twins", all piled on top of one another. JJ quickly gestured with her hands for the crowd to calm back down.

"Without further ado, I present to you, Derek Morgan and (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

As your guests exploded in a synchronized ovation, Derek pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "You ready, Bug?"

"As long as you are, Mr. Morgan."

You and Derek each grabbed a knife from the table, but before the blades could touch the cake, Penelope's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait, let me remove those candles for you."

"No, Penelope!"

Emily's warning came too late.

The entire room held their breaths at the sight of the candles in Penelope's hand. The tech analyst darted her eyes in confusion before she realized what she had done.

"Oh no."

"Is that--" Derek's voice sounded lost in awe.

"Yes, it is," you breathed out.

"The cream, it's--"

"I know." A humorous chuckle escaped your chest as a lone tear fell down your cheek. "It's a blue buttercream. We're having a boy."

Derek didn't waste any second before gathering you in his arms. Around you, your crowds of friends celebrated along in a sequence of hoorays and applause. But even in the midst of that ruckus, you felt like there were no other people left on this world with you other than Derek and your baby.

Your son.

"Hey, Little Man," Derek whispered as his hand landed on your belly. "I can't wait to meet you."

[navybrat817]

A Sunny Outlook

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: After everything Andy has been through, his outlook on life is a bit jaded. Until you show up. Word Count: Almost 1.3k Warnings: Defending Jacob spoilers/Mix of canon and canon divergent (talk of divorce, child death), slight angst, opposites attract, future smut and feels (it's me), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Tenth and final day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to new couple, Grumpy and Sunny! Set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar, I mixed up my list a bit and plan to share Thorn and Rose at a later date. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Andy edit by the beautiful @randomagnes0210. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you would’ve told Andy Barber years ago that he’d be living his life today as a tattoo artist, he wouldn’t have believed you. He had his path carved out. Life didn’t care what people wanted though, no matter how hard they worked to get it.

“Um, Mr. Barber?” Jake called out to him from the desk.

"How many times have I told you to call me 'Andy'? For fuck's sake," Andy snapped.

"Sorry, Mr. Bar- Andy!"

Andy took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled. He didn't mean to snap at Jake. He was a good guy. One of the nicest around. It wasn't his fault he was in a bad mood.

Which was his mood most days.

"No, I'm sorry," he said.

He wasn’t always a jaded man. Though his dad had been in jail his entire life, he thankfully had a good childhood overall. It helped set him on his path to become a lawyer, as he wanted to help others. He also made a promise to himself to be a good father if that day would ever come. He thought he had that chance to make that dream a reality with his college sweetheart, Laurie.

As a lawyer, he enjoyed his work. It challenged him and helped him grow. It was also stressful depending on the case. Long hours and seeing some people at their worst didn’t always leave him in the best headspace. But he had his wife and they had their son, Jacob.

Life was good.

Until his world got a little darker.

“This isn’t working, Laurie.”

“No, it isn’t."

Andy couldn’t put his finger on why and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that Laurie was on the same page. Love took a lot of work and sometimes it wasn’t enough to make a marriage last. Not that they didn’t give it a try. They met with a counselor. Neither of them stepped out on each other. They wanted desperately to make it work for their kid.

But the loss of their son solidified the end of their marriage.

“Andy, I know you blame me.”

The thing is Andy didn’t put that on her. It was the bad weather that caused her to spin out of control. But she carried guilt for fighting with their son before the crash. It was something she couldn’t let go of.

The divorce was as ammicable as it could be, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like a failure. Work couldn’t distract him either. How was he expected to help people, some who were not even innocent, when he couldn’t help himself?

Tears filled his eyes as he sat in his empty house, trying to figure out what the hell was he supposed to do with his life. He didn’t want to go back into the office. He also didn’t want to drink himself to death. In a drunken stupor he called an old friend of his.

Steve Rogers.

One of the most honorable men Andy had the pleasure of knowing. While he went off to law school, Steve joined the army. The last he heard, he became a tattoo artist with another friend and army buddy, Bucky Barnes. He felt like an ass calling when he hadn’t reached out in so long, but the inebriated part of his brain didn’t process that.

“I don’t know what to do,” was all he said on the voicemail.

He woke up the next morning with a text message from Steve: “You any good at drawing?”

It was the beginning of his new chapter.

"You are never gonna get laid if you keep snapping at everyone," Hal winked as he walked by his chair.

"Get fucked," he said with only a hint of malice as Hal chuckled.

"I'm tryin'!"

"Give him a break," Steve said from his station, but he was smiling, too.

Like Jake, it was hard to get mad at a guy like Hal. A charming piercer who drifted from place to place before he met up with Steve and Bucky, he did some of the best work in the city. He was sure some came into the new shop just to hit on him.

"What is it, Jake?" he asked as he stood up and stretched.

"Your consultation is here about the sun tattoo," he explained, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "Said she saw some of your work online."

Andy took another breath. He prided himself on the portfolio he built. It took him time to build and he didn't have as much clientele as Steve and Bucky, but he was slowly catching up. He was proud of the work he accomplished.

"Yeah, send her over," he said. He had a few minutes before his next appointment. "Thanks."

Jake rushed off before he could say another word, likely afraid he'd snap again. He'd have to apologize again later. He should've been happy. The opening of the shop went well. He liked his place in the city.

What the hell was his problem?

"Hi!"

Andy blinked when you stood in front of him. He wasn't used to seeing such a cheerful smile on someone’s face. Not directed at him, at least. He would've thought it was fake if not for the kindness in your eyes.

Ironic that you wanted a sun tattoo since he saw the world as much darker a long time ago.

Would the sun still shine in your eyes if I had you spread out under me?

Where the fuck did that thought come from?

He didn't lust after potential clients. He hadn't even done one night stand after Laurie. Why did seeing your happy, beautiful face make him want to change his mind?

Why did your smile get to him?

"Um, I can come back another time," you offered, as if you inconvenienced him by walking over.

The mere presence of you rendered Andy speechless until he remembered he had to speak.

"No, it's okay. Please, have a seat," he stood up to pull a chair over. "I'm Andy."

Your smile was back on your face as you gave him your name.

Beautiful, just like you.

"I just want to say real quick that I love your work,” you said as you took out your phone. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to get in so quickly.”

"I appreciate that,” he said. The compliment meant a lot. “It’s a sun tattoo you want, right?"

“Yeah. My friends call me Sunny because I’m what they call a ‘big ball of sunshine’,” you explained.

“I can’t imagine why,” he deadpanned. You looked like you were trying to hold in a laugh as you set your phone down. “Something funny?”

“Do people tell you that you’re grumpy?” you asked curiously. "Or is it a requirement that at least half of the staff here have to look intimidating?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he wasn’t the least bit offended. “People tell me almost every day."

“I can’t imagine why,” you echoed with a smile.

"And if only half of us look intimidating, then we aren't doing our job."

“Don't worry. I won't tell," you mock whispered.

He actually smiled back at you before he frowned and cleared his throat. He refused to let you consume his thoughts, even if your bright aura began to chip away at his tough exterior. “Then why don’t you tell me more about your tattoo.”

He listened intently as you explained the kind of sun design you wanted and where. He had a feeling by the time he finished your consultation, he'd be in a much better mood. Even if he didn’t want to be. And your tattoo would be his best work yet.

Andy's world may be a bit brighter thanks to you. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[choicesficwriterscreations]

November Creator of the Month: Lizzybeth1986

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @lizzybeth1986 We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Lizzy, absolutely 😁

*Center art by @sazanes

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started playing mid 2017, I think. I played the flagship books (TF, TCaTF, MW), and def preferred TF at the time.

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the Tumblr fandom in 2017, around the time of the TRR finale. Mostly because the Liam hate at the time was intense and I wanted to write metas about why Liam was, in fact, not “a dick who betrayed the MC” 😂

I did have a Tumblr account before that (made it in 2015 to follow Bollywood film posts), but never actually used it.

How did you pick your blog name?

I was lazy af so it was my middle name plus my birth year haha

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it! 

I started out with a couple reblogs, but my first actual post was about the romance points mechanism in TRR1. There was a point in the middle of the book where one nice word to Drake would give you an automatic romance point, and I was like, “Huh??? Either treat him like shit or risk him catching feels for me? Is that how it is???”. Thankfully, that stopped after two chapters. After that, I did an essay series analyzing Liam’s actions in the finale called “The Crown, The King and The Flame.” Romance Points Post The Crown and the Flame

How long have you been writing fanfiction?

Almost 6 years now! I started doing Liam fics around the beginning of TRR2.

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

I’m the most invested in TRR and PM, but between the two I’d probably say PM is my fave book overall. But yeah, my favourite book to write about would be TRR, because Liam, Hana and Kiara are such fantastic characters to write about! (Hayden and Sloane, too, but I’m still in the process of getting comfortable writing them).

Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

It was Keychains, my two part fic series featuring my MC and Liam. It was set around the time the MC was waiting in the airport in TRR2, just before Maxwell and Bertrand intervene. It had a follow up with Liam’s PoV too.

I really like it. It included some really good hc’s I made at the time, like Esther buying an apple keychain to represent Cordonia at the same time, and Liam calling her his wife in Greek and Esther not realizing what the phrase meant. I thought the pathos and slight humour was quite well-done. I can’t think of much I would want to change in the story.

Keychains 1 Keychains 2

What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

As a series – Eleanor’s Kitchen! It’s ongoing, and it’s a joy to write. I love exploring food from a cultural lens, and since Cordonia was a fictional country, I could explore a variety of ethnicities and food cultures. Liam had a literal diamond scene that explored gastrodiplomacy, and I wanted to explore his childhood and Eleanor’s friendships too.

Individually – I would say my Kiara fic “An Ear to the Ground”. Kiara is a delightful character and exploring the social season through her eyes was a real journey! I also love “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)” which explores the early days of the Sloane & Hayden friendship. I used asterisms and constellations to symbolize moments in their friendship.

Eleanor's Kitchen An Ear to the Ground The Stars (Are Out Tonight)

Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

Cordonian Waltz was definitely a surprise in terms of reception!! It was written in the style of headcanons I was seeing at the time, and I wrote it in second person. It became my most widely-read fanfic very fast, and every once in a while it would experience a major surge in readership. I enjoyed writing it and thought it was a lovely, romantic piece, but I really wasn’t expecting it to finally have 250+ reblogs out of it, and people coming and telling me this was the fic that got them into Liam x MC in the first place. I find that deeply gratifying 😍

There’s a lot of fics that I feel need more engagement and appreciation, but I can understand that those characters also don’t exactly get much of an audience. My entire PM set comes under this category; they typically get low readership. I think my Hana and Kiara fics too could do with more of an audience.

@twinkleallnight once told me that when she reads my stuff, she usually takes a long time just to ruminate on the story, and I like to believe that often, that’s why the engagement isn’t always immediate. Which I like too!! I like that some of my stuff can make people stop and think, and I like to believe that over time, the work will have its own impact.

Cordonian Waltz PM Set

If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Probably fluff but with a lot of observation and sometimes somber reflections. I’m not that great with angst…and I’ve never actually tried smut? But maybe one day 😄

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes! Some of my MCs are v different from me but I always incorporate something from my life experiences in them. Like Esther taking photos of the sunset or Basil not being science oriented but still having an interest in space.

Character wise I find I put a lot of myself into a lot of the characters I write. Notably, Liam, Hana, Kiara, certain Haydens and Sloane. Liam’s love for learning, different aspects of Hana and Kiara’s experiences as queer women, Sloane’s experiences as a neurodivergent woman, and especially my Scholar!Hayden’s (Iris) observations. I tend to incorporate a lot of my feelings and experiences more into certain canonical characters than in MCs.

What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Dialogue, I think. Especially when it’s a character I don’t relate to that much. But also sometimes when it’s a character I love but am only starting to write because then I really overthink it!

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Hmm…probably neglected wouldn’t be the word I’d use…I just take a very long time to kickstart them 😂

But yeah, definitely my Petals and Thornes series? That’s the fic series I’m doing for Hana x Kiara, that is supposed to explore TRR2 and 3 from their PoV (with significant changes). So far I’ve only been able to do some one-shots and hcs in that universe, but I do want to start the actual series soon!

I have some essay series’ I’d love to work on too! My Hana essay series which has two essays left, The Hayden Young Project, and a possible series on the alternative Lis of TRR!

Petals and Thornes Hana Lee: A Study in Erasure

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Hmm. A few people have asked me, actually, and while I’m not fully opposed to showing them I’ll probably take some time before I do show my work. I’ll probably overthink how much will be understandable to a reader who doesn’t have the context of the source, and what they may not understand.

What to show them first? I’m not sure! Maybe the smaller ones first, like Cordonian Waltz. Or my RCD fic Snowstorms, because it doesn’t have more than 2-3 canon characters featuring and I do talk a little about being a closeted queer teen figuring out their sexuality through cinema, which is an overall relatable experience to some! Snowstorms

Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

In my early years I used to emulate Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s style. Much of her work that I read as a teen was pretty flowery, sometimes bordering on purple prose, and I really loved that style and tried to go that way. But now I think a variety of writers from different genres inform my writing. In terms of published authors, Jhumpa Lahiri, Helen Hoang, and non-fiction ones like Rukmini Pande, Ruby Hammad and Mikki Kendall.

In Choices fic, @callmetippytumbles for sure – a lot of the questions she was tackling with her MC in her Home series served as inspiration for some of the ideas I’ve been having in mind for Petals and Thornes. @thefirstcourtesan is a great writing buddy to have, too, and she has a knack for saying a lot in very few words! There’s also my amazing group of friends (shoutout to @cassiopeiacorvus, @thecapturedafrique, @mand-delemonde, and @beyonceswigs, as well as @twinkleallnight , @dcbbw @mariemarieohcontrary , @choicesfrog, @grapecaseschoices and @ohsnapitzlovehacker…the discussions are so good and leave some much to think about afterward 💖💖). All these discussions ALWAYS fuel my ideas and make me think out of the box.

I’ve also recently started writing polyamorous characters and relationships, and @angelasscribbles stories and resources have been such a great help in navigating that!

Home

@angelasscribbles Poly Resources

Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Haha! I’ve not even started the proper series yet but I think Petals and Thornes? But besides that maybe Eleanor’s Kitchen may work as a series idk 😄

Do you write original fiction?

I do try! I’ve done a few short stories but before I started fanfic, I did a lot of spoken word poetry and that was fun.

What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, watching video essays, spending months on hyperfixations 😂 and a little cooking. My kid’s gotten into craft recently and has succeeded in taking me down that rabbit hole too haha.

I used to be into making fruit wines but have gotten inconsistent with that over the years.

What’s your favorite emoji?

Because I have a huuuge thing for nerds – this one: 🤓

BONUS – tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

A story my mum often tells about how I got into writing, began with some good old-fashioned sibling rivalry. Apparently as a child I was notorious for writing things on the walls of our house. One day my older brother got a hardbound royal-blue covered notebook to write in, with gold lettering on the cover…and I got instantly jealous that I didn’t get one (I was 6 or 7 and already fond of telling stories). When I complained my mum made me a deal – she would get me the same notebook…IF I stopped writing on the walls and began writing in that instead 😂 It worked. My mother is a smart woman.

I love spoilers!! I will read the end of a novel I’m reading and then go back and read the rest. Sometimes I even read books all the way backwards lol.

I love romance, and my favorite tropes include second-chance romance and mutual pining while believing the other person will never love you back! Because, at heart, I’m a dramatic bitch.

[mizusswordtip]

Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (29)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

 Emma decided it'd be a good idea to go back to Archie's office and check for anything we missed. So far we've turned up empty. There isn't even blood or signs of a struggle. The Charmings came along, as I expected them to. I don't complain though, four sets of eyes are better than two."Regina's file. It's Empty." David says, holding up a manila folder that has Regina's name neatly written on it. His expression is sever as he looks to his wife who practically crumbles at the discovery.

"So she did it. She killed the kindest soul in this town. A man who only cared about helping." She walks over to David who immediately goes to comfort her.

"Don't jump the gun. This has 'set up' written all over it." I say with a shake of my head, getting down on my hands and knees to look under the furniture.

"I promise we'll find whoever really did this." Emma chimes in and I don't need to look to know her parents are giving her a chastising look.

"Isn't it time you guys admit we already have? Regina had a fight with Archie, Ruby saw her outside last night, and now her file is empty. That's a lot of evidence." David implores softly and I roll my eyes.

"Circumstantial evidence." I correct, standing back up once I don't find anything.

"Alice is right, this all screams that Regina is being set up." Emma says and I nod in agreement.

"What do you mean?" Snow asks. I sit down next to Emma once I realize we've searched every inch of this office.

"Well, I don't know how it is in fairy tale land, but in the real world, it's usually hard to find evidence." Emma explains and Snow looks at her thoughtfully.

"It's even harder if the alleged murderer has magic." I add on and thankfully they actually seem like they're listening for once.

"Exactly! This has been way too easy." Emma says and Snow comes over to sit beside her.

"So you think someone is framing her?" She asks, clearly having a hard time believing it.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time this happened in this town." Emma says with a pointed look to Snow.

"Who would want to frame her?" She asks and I laugh.

"Um...only most people in town." I say and Snow nods her head, conceding.

"Yeah, but there's only one name on that list that would resort to killing to get what they want." Emma says and I nod my head, glad we're still on the same page.

"Gold."

We walk into Gold's shop to see Belle and Gold together, clearly planning on going on a picnic. I feel my face lighten up a little when I see Belle. I haven't seen her since our reunion in Gold's shop after the curse broke. I have really got to ask her about her relationship choices soon. Belle and Gold turn to look at the group of us.

"Ah! Nothing warms the heart more than a family reunited. You have your mother's chin miss swan." Gold says casually, still packing the basket. Belle's face lights up once she sees me and I give her a little wave.

"Alice! Thank god you got back alright. I was worried." Belle runs over to me and throws her arms around me, which I return with a small smile.

"We know that you killed him." Emma's words shock Belle out of the hug as she walks back to Gold's side hesitantly.

"And your father's tact." He says with a condescending smile.

"Someone's dead?" Belle looks horrified and I give her a sympathetic smile. I may not be a fan of Gold but that doesn't mean I can't feel sorry for accusing her... boyfriend of murder.

"Archie." I inform her and she looks stricken.

"Why on earth would you think I had anything to do with that?" Gold asks and I roll my eyes.

"Besides being evil? All the evidence points to Regina." I tell him and Belle lets out an incredulous laugh. I look over to see her looking at me with confusion.

"Alice, after everything she's put us through, you don't think she's capable of doing something so vile?" She asks rhetorically and I smile a sad smile in return.

"I know she is. Which is why it should speak volumes that I'm not jumping at the first opportunity to put her behind bars." I tell her and while she still doesn't look convinced, it's clear she at least believes that I don't believe Regina's guilty.

"And it wouldn't be the first time you used someone to try to hurt her." Snow adds on, unamused by Gold's glibness.

"Nice to see your memory's still intact, dearie, but this time I'm afraid I'm gonna have to disappoint you. It wasn't me." He says and I shake my head.

"And we're supposed to just take your word for it?" I ask sarcastically.

"No, but I can prove it. Ask the witness." He smiles condescendingly but his words cause all of us confusion. From what Emma told me, the only people known to be in Archie's office that night were Archie, Regina, and his dog.

"No one was there." I say with a roll of my eyes.

"Well, that's not strictly true, now, is it?" His smile only grows as realization comes over me. There's no way he's serious.

"You want us to interrogate a dog?"

[gracie7209]

Amaryllis

Chapter Two: Wednesday

Pairing: Frankie x f!Reader

WC: 4.7K

Warnings: Mostly fluff and a little angst…

Summary: Something, no, make that someone, throws a wrench in your normal weekly routine.

A/N: This was originally posted as a Writer Wednesday entry well over a year ago and was the first chapter I completed for this story. The concept is the same, but some words/phrases have been changed. You can read the original Writer Wednesday post HERE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Tom knows that you go see your mother in the City every Wednesday… You go and spend the day taking her around to do her shopping, Doctor appointments etc and you have to go see your OBGYN once a month anyway, so it all works out. You started getting pretty bad anxiety within the last couple of years or so… Your arrangement taking its toll, but Tom would never let you see a counselor or therapist because he fears what you would tell them. Even though revealing the inner workings of your life would put at risk the one person you were doing this all for in the first place… So you avoid the conversation entirely and go every week just to get some things off your chest, since you would have no one else to talk to otherwise.

Today, you go for your regularly scheduled appointment. 9:30 am every week without fail. As soon as you walk in you see a familiar face, currently nose deep in a magazine. You keep walking forward and take a seat. You open your book and try not to make it obvious that you’re hiding your face.

Tom isn’t aware of these appointments, which is why you felt safe having them at all since they took place over an hour out of town. You’ve been coming regularly and never once has there been an issue with seeing someone either you or Tom knew. Until today…. Today, Tom’s friend Frankie is sitting in the waiting area, left foot resting on his knee, thumbing through the pages of the standard medical magazine set out for patients' to help pass the time. So far, he has yet to notice you. You let out a breath and continue flipping through the pages of your book.

Apparently Frankie is early to his appointment, because even though he was here well before you, your name is called loud and clear. Of course, Frankie hears your last name and he looks up at you then. He just smiles and waves a friendly hello, and—

Nothing else happens. The world doesn’t suddenly combust at him seeing you. So you wave back a little awkwardly and make your way to the nurse waiting at the door to take you back for your appointment.

The hour is over way too soon and when you walk out, thankfully the waiting area is empty of Frankie. So you quickly make your way to your car and head to see your mother and carry on with your regular Wednesday routine.

You’re hoping that there would be no reason for Frankie to bring it up to Tom… Like ‘hey man, saw your wife today at the therapist’s office…..” etc etc… there should be no reason for him to, so you force yourself to let it go. Thankfully, Tom never says anything (you know he would if he knew) so you go about the rest of your week as normal.

Next week rolls around and you show up extra early for your appointment, hoping like hell that you would be called before Frankie even showed up. If he showed up at all.. There was no reason for you to believe that he had a regular schedule like yours. It was just a one off and you needed to stop worrying about it. And you did… That is until Frankie walks out of the doors as he was finished with his own appointment.. How had you never seen him here before when you’d been coming for so long?

Frankie spots you this time and walks over to you slowly to say hello…. “You’re Tom’s wife right?” You nod quietly. “I thought that was you last week, but I wasn't sure. I’d never seen you in here before, but my appointment last week got pushed back for some scheduling issue… So I…” he slows down his words… “I guess I normally wouldn’t have.”

He’s rambling. Frankie is cringing internally at the realization, but you hardly pay it any notice when your own thoughts are doing much the same. —So that explains it. And you just HAD to show up early to your own appointment this time trying to AVOID him..

You still haven’t said anything so the silence quickly becomes awkward… “Well it was good seeing you. Uh, tell Tom I said ‘hey.’” And with that, he leaves you to stare blankly at his back as he leaves the office. Again, you’re hoping that there would be no reason for this to get back to Tom. Thankfully, it doesn’t.

Next week you go to your appointment at the normal time… He said it himself that his regular appointment was earlier than yours, so you just needed to go like you normally would and everything would be fine… And you’re right. You go in and he’s not there. You get called back and go into your appointment, breathing a quick sigh of relief.

When your hour is up, you walk out and he’s still not there. Again, you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and make your way to your car with a smile on your face.

The air is cool and the sun is shining when you exit the building and you are ready to take on the rest of the day… Refreshed that your anxiety was unnecessary, only to curse the ground at your misfortune because apparently the universe hated you and enjoyed your misery…..

Walking up to your car, you see the back passenger’s side tire is now flatter than a pancake. “Shit,” you let the word escape your lips quietly, shaking your head as you think about your options:

Option number one: You change the tire. This would be great if you had any knowledge whatsoever on HOW to change a tire.

Option number two: You call your husband—Well if you called him, he would want to know why you were parked at the Doctor’s office, and also without your mother, you instantly decide against it, which leaves you with option number three….

You do nothing.

You look out across the parking lot and continue to ponder your poor options when you notice a little diner across the street. You decide to just take a breath and grab a coffee and maybe something to eat while you figure things out. You call your mom to let her know; she doesn't own a vehicle which is why you made the weekly trip up here. Fortunately, she was still stocked up on food and she didn’t see her own doctor until next week, so you not making it today shouldn’t hurt anything.

So, you make your way over to the diner. You honestly think the City is beautiful… all of the buildings, nothing like in your town. Everything was so big and open.. You missed it a lot….

When you step inside, the door has a little bell that dings signaling a new customer. You walk to the front and wait to be seated. You just want a few minutes of quiet so you ask for the secluded booth over in the corner. Perfect. You sit and order a coffee with cream and sugar and pick up a menu and attempt to let your mind relax.

The funny thing about anxiety is that letting your mind relax is the equivalent of asking a toddler to sit still…. They may WANT to, but their little bodies just have so much pent up energy that despite your effort they HAVE to move… Your anxious thoughts immediately take over—

‘How am I going to get this settled without letting Tom know?’

‘I wonder what would happen if I just stayed here… Forever?’ ‘No, no, can’t do that’

‘I really like this mug’ ‘Do I want a sandwich? Or maybe some soup?’

‘Hmm, the guy at the counter has a pretty nice back… snug jacket, broad shoulders and faded jeans. Dark brown curls peeking out from underneath his ball cap… Oh my God! That’s Frankie!!’

You curse to yourself, which apparently wasn’t really to yourself, when your very audible gasp is heard near the front, to which said object of your attention turns and immediately lays eyes on you. His face actually seems to light up… You wonder why that is? You also notice how flush you suddenly feel for shamelessly admiring his back side, not knowing at all who it was as if he could hear your thoughts.

He’s making his way over and lucky you, you’re cornered in your little secluded booth… ‘Breathe…. Breathe…’ you tell yourself until you hear “Hey there,” Frankie is upbeat and to anyone else looking, you seem to be catching up with a friend. “Hi Frankie,” you say softly.

“Funny seeing you here… if you weren’t married to Tom, I’d think I had a stalker,” he says in a joyful tone, but the wild deer caught in headlights look on your face has him apologizing almost immediately. “Sorry, just kidding… Promise! —But I will say, I’ve run into you the last three weeks in a row now…” He’s looking at you with a question on his tongue, but he won’t ask it. So you answer for him. “My mother lives here in the City, so I help take her around on Wednesdays.”

“Must’ve just missed each other before then.” He smiles before saying “well it was good seeing you.” He seems to hesitate before adding, “Hope you have a good day.” He goes to leave and you suddenly remember your current dilemma….

”Wait, Frankie?” He turns to you, a look of confusion on his face, “actually, I’ve run into some trouble with my car. The tire is flat. Is there um, any way you could help me figure out how to get it home?”

It takes him a moment to respond… like his gears are turning, but he finally answers you, “oh, uh yeah, sure. I’d be happy to.”

God you sound like an idiot, Frankie chastises himself.. Why are you making this awkward? Well, she’s beautiful, you dumbass, and you’re fucking awkward— His running commentary matches your own, unbeknownst to you.

“Ok, so where are you parked?” Frankie tries to curb his thoughts by just addressing the task at hand.

“Across the street…” You point in the general direction of the office building, “at Dr. Pomater’s office.”

“Oh, that’s right. I usually come over here for a late breakfast after my appointment.” Frankie is annoyed at himself— she doesn’t care, she just needs your help.

Also food… She just got here, there’s no way she’s already eaten..

“Did you um, want to eat first? I noticed you only have a coffee..”

“Oh, I uh, well yes. I guess I haven't gotten the chance to order yet.” —Frankie thinks your light accent is endearing. It’s not super thick or put on, but almost makes you sound elegant, which he would argue matches you pretty well.

“But you’ve already eaten, I’d hate to keep you any longer than necessary. I can just eat when I get back home.” Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl, like the traitor it is…. Frankie notices.

“Nah, I don’t mind. I’m off on Wednesdays so I’m free. I actually could go for another cup of coffee, if you don’t mind the company.”

You smile slightly at that and say “Ok, well would you like to sit? I will try to order and finish quickly.”

“There’s really no rush, go ahead and take your time and we can talk about our options for getting you back up and running.”

You agree and so you both sit in your booth across from each other… You decide to go ahead with the soup and sandwich combo, sneaking a peek over the top of your menu before the waitress comes back over —Frankie is looking down at his own menu… He’s wearing a light gray t-shirt, the material thin, but not worn. He’s got his jacket on as he was about to leave before your squeak of surprise at seeing him alerted him of your presence. One thing you hadn’t noticed about him before were the thick rimmed black glasses he was wearing now. Had he been wearing those before? After a moment you notice he takes them off and puts them in his inner jacket pocket and sets down his menu. So just reading glasses then, you suppose… You think to yourself how they give him a very boyish quality that makes you smile inwardly. You definitely should NOT be noticing this, so you look back down at your menu.

The waitress makes her way to you and takes your order. Frankie orders his coffee with cream and sugar… Hmm… You think how Tom would never drink anything unless it resembled something akin to freshly laid tarmac, claiming it “separated the men from the boys” or some other ridiculous admonition.

You notice Frankie looking at you and shit, did he ask me something?

“Hmm?”

He smiles slightly at that and you notice a dimple in his right cheek… Again, noticing things you shouldn’t…. His chuckle breaks you out of your head yet again as he says “I was just wondering where Tom was today?”

“Oh, Tom is uh..” your frustration at the question prevents you from answering right away. This was the entire reasoning for your anxiety toward Frankie seeing you. You couldn’t afford for Tom to find out about these appointments and put a stop to them. The small amount of peace of mind it provides you with, gets you through the week and you’re just not ready to lose that yet.

“Um, well Tom he uh, usually works on Wednesdays… shows his houses.”

—His brow furrows slightly like he can sense your hesitation, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Gotcha, yeah I haven’t seen him since that fight night awhile back….” The night I met you he reminds himself. “That was a pretty fun night…. First time I got to see the guys in a while.”

—Your stomach clenches at the memory of Tom on that night, but you’ve gotten good at hiding your disgust by now, “yeah — Um so is there an auto repair place nearby or…? I honestly know nothing about cars,” you laugh nervously, hoping he doesn’t notice your obvious shift in conversation away from Tom.

Your waitress then makes her way back over with your food and Frankie’s coffee. He takes a long sip and you start in on your soup.

—“Do you have a spare? I’ve got my jack in the truck. I could probably just change it for you.”

You feel like an idiot, but answer honestly, “I really don’t know. I’m sorry.” You give a nervous laugh and Frankie chuckles. He’s not making fun of you, but he thinks it adds to your charm.

He chuckles again and shakes his head a little, shrugging off a thought…

—‘This is Tom’s wife man, get a hold of yourself..’

He continues to shake the thought from his mind and moves on — “What kind of car do you have?”

‘Real smooth’ —

“Oh, it’s a… I’m really not sure…”

“That’s ok. We’ll figure it out. It’s probably in the tire well like most.”

—Your blank stare makes him cough and regroup, “I mean that there are some that have them underneath, but most sedans have them in the trunk.” Still nothing — You would be embarrassed, but you were genuinely just confused. Tom ensured that you were only knowledgeable in things meant to be handled by women like cooking and cleaning house. “Let the men handle things sweetie,” Tom would say when it came to just about anything etc.

“It’s ok,” he laughs again, but it doesn’t have the condescension attached to it that you’d come to expect from Tom. You think to yourself that it’s a nice sound coming from Frankie.

“I think I know where to find it and how to get you going again.” He smiles at you again and you say a quiet “thank you” as you go to finish the remainder of your meal in a comfortable silence.

Frankie is looking out the window now…The view from the diner overlooks a little park and you think the colored leaves against the still green grass is beautiful… Fall has always been your favorite season and you thank the Lord that the majority of your pregnancy will be in the cooler months.

After a bit, your waitress walks over and asks “is there anything else I can get y’all today?”

“No thank you,” you and Frankie both say at the same time, pulling another light chuckle out of Frankie and a smile from the waitress. She finishes writing out your check then puts it face down on the table and scoots the paper toward Frankie.

You both reach for it at the same time again and while his gets to it first, you go in and lightly swat at his hand saying “no sir….” And you wiggle a finger at him. “You’re already fixing my car…. The least I could do is pay for your coffee.”

He tries to come up with some quip to keep the lightness going but falls short and just puts his hands up in a mock surrender. Broken pride and all — he’s not upset; far from it actually, but he can’t help the small pout that makes him look offended… the sly look in his eyes tells you he’s only playing though, and you lift your chin in triumph at your little win.

It takes him a moment to remember that this is a completely abnormal situation whereas he is with his friend’s — No not his actual friend - his mentor maybe? He doesn’t really know what Tom even is to him anymore. All he knows is that —this is Tom’s wife and you’re simply having coffee and he is going to help you get your car running—

Frankie’s thoughts are interrupted when you stand up and say “come on, follow me.” He trails behind you - the awkwardness coming back slightly.

You pay the bill and walk toward the exit. Frankie follows and you both head outside into the crisp Fall air. You start to walk toward your car that’s parked across the street when Frankie stops you —

“Uh, my truck is over here. We can just drive over if you’d like?”

“Ok,” is all you say. Why is this so awkward? You already find yourself missing the ease of the diner.

He is just a friend of Tom’s helping you get to your car… Nothing to worry about.

Frankie’s truck is kind of what you’d expect — it’s an older looking truck. You have no idea of the model, just that it’s aged. -Brown with tan lines down the sides — almost matching his jacket. The inside is clean, but the interior is worn.. it smells of gas and oil, with a little hint of vanilla from the little tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. When you first opened the passenger door, there was a horrible creaky sound that you were well used to. Your Papá used to have a truck similar to this and the thought makes you smile.

“She’s a little old, but she takes good care of me,” Frankie says warmly. His adoration for the truck is evident in his tone. His hand worries at his scruffy chin and he asks “ready to go?” You quickly nod and close your door.

The drive to your car is short — Neither of you say anything other than an “over there” as you point to which car is yours.

So when Frankie asks you if you’ve called Tom yet you jump… unsure if it’s an accusation or just from the question as a whole.

“No, I didn’t want to bother him. He’s usually very busy.” Frankie almost scoffs at that.

“What?” You ask him. He almost seemed annoyed.

“I don’t know why it would bother him to hear from his wife when she has a problem. I’d hope he would want to make sure you’re ok. Make sure you get home safely.”

Frankie is having a hard time keeping his mouth shut…. Tom very rarely mentioned you unless prompted when the guys got together… and before he met you it didn’t really matter… but having spent just this short amount of time with you today, it makes his blood boil. He doesn’t have words to voice the why behind that quite yet.

You honestly don’t know what to say to that. Tom was never like that with you for obvious reasons, but Frankie wouldn’t know that.

“Well — Ok, so you see…” you sigh… there was no other way to do this. Unless you said otherwise, there was no way this wouldn’t get brought up to Tom. Not about the car, but the where. You wanted to be honest. You wanted to be able to talk with someone about your situation, but you couldn’t. Not about everything anyway. Not yet.

“Frankie, can I say something? Without judgement and without this getting back to Tom?” He nods. The confusion is clear on his face… “Would it be ok if this just stayed between us?” You motion between the two of you. “About the Doctor I mean..?” He’s still looking confused. Similar to how you must’ve looked when he was talking to you about cars.

“Tom doesn’t know that I see Dr. Pomater. He’s never believed in Therapy and thinks it’s a waste of time and money,” — ‘amongst other things’ you think to yourself.

“He wouldn’t be happy to know that I’ve been seeing one. But to me, just having someone to talk to that is unbiased and non-judgemental? It helps me feel better.” You know you sound childish, but it’s the truth and Frankie holds all the cards here.

After a moment you hear Frankie respond. “So he just thinks you’re taking care of your mother on Wednesdays?” He looks up at you at the question.

“I do take care of my mother.. She doesn’t speak English well and she doesn’t own a vehicle, so she needs assistance getting groceries and getting to and from Doctor’s appointments. It also allows me to spend more time with her since I moved out of the city.”

Frankie nods — He seems to be processing.

“So, Tom doesn’t like the thought of a therapist, or he won’t let you have one?”

“I, um… I..” you trail off.

You look down, breathe in then out through your nose. You look back up at him and —he must know how Tom is… “Tom, he… No.” And you leave it at that.

You look away and start unbuckling your seatbelt— Frankie says your name and you turn back to him to see this look…. It’s a mesh of worry and concern, but also something else you can’t put a name to. His lips are parted like he just paused mid-sentence — “Does Tom…? I mean — Tom has never really told any of us much about you. Is he, uh, is he ok? To you?”

You’re not liking where this is heading.. Frankie continues…

“When we were in the service, he was my Team Lead and I’ve always respected him for his position. We’ve all managed to keep in touch for the sake of all the shit we’ve been through together. But through all of it, we didn’t even know you existed until a couple of years ago…”

Shaking his head, he starts again.. “To say we were shocked to learn that he had a wife—was a fucking understatement.”

“Where are you going with this Frankie?”

Upon hearing his name, he stops and looks at you…. “How did you and Tom meet?”

“It was a long time ago. I believe we met at the grocery store. He was in line behind me and my mother.”

“When did you get married? He never told us anything until about two years ago… during our last deployment.”

“Um, six, almost seven years ago… Yes, it will be seven years in March.” Nope no this is not good……

“How old are you—?” He says your name at this to really stick the question….

“Twe— I’m twenty-five.”

“So you were 18 when you got married? How long did you know each other before that?” Frankie can’t seem to stop the words from leaving his mouth…

You think he is almost accusatory in his questioning and you’re unsure of where all of this emotion is coming from.

“Frankie, these are very personal questions… Why do you need to know this?”

“Sorry — I’m sorry.” He looks down and takes a breath. He immediately looks like he feels terrible for even asking and waits a few moments before starting again— He’s struggling with his words— wanting so much to understand what exactly is going on, but he knows he hasn’t earned that right yet. He feels terrible and hopes that he hasn’t offended you.

Frankie takes a stuttered breath, “it was inappropriate to ask you those questions and for that I’m sorry. I just don’t understand him sometimes. You think you know a lot about a person when you work side by side with them in life or death situations like we did, but turns out I don’t know much about him at all. I’m sorry…”

You dislike the look on his face… the despair of a situation you know absolutely nothing about is clear, so you try to lighten the mood…

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know much about him either…”

You get a small laugh at that so you take it as a win.

After another minute or two of semi-awkward silence, Frankie moves to get out of the truck.. “Well let’s see what we’re working with here.”

He grabs his jack out of the back of the truck and makes his way over to your car. You pop the button to the trunk and he easily finds your spare. He goes back to the bed of his truck and looks around for a moment and comes back with this X looking tool. You can tell he’s done this before, many times, and you flush at how ignorant you must’ve sounded to him… shaking your head, you just let it go… You don’t feel like Frankie is judging you for what you lack in tire changing etiquette, so you turn and watch him to see if you could maybe even learn a few things.

Frankie takes off his jacket after he gets the car partially up off the ground — taking the X tool and beginning to remove the bolts from the hubcap.

He’s so quick and efficient, he makes it look easy. As Frankie is crouched down, you notice a little bit of sweat at the small of his back that’s dampened his thin t-shirt slightly.. You also notice that the material hugs his torso and makes a show of the muscles in his back and shoulders as he keeps himself steady. The muscles in his arms flexing as he grunts slightly with the exertion to loosen the bolts… it has to be the hormones that are making you focus on entirely the wrong thing, but….

No, you need to look away, so you try to find something else to focus on while he finishes.

Looking up you begin to silently name each thing you see, desperately trying to keep your focus away from Frankie’s backside— blue sky, birds, leaves, trees, more trees, there’s a couple walking their dog, a mother pushing a stroller….. You go so far as to start listing the color of each new vehicle that passes by…

This is ridiculous— you think to yourself. You’re a grown woman and you can handle this.

You turn back around, just as Frankie is standing up. The tire is on and he’s wiping his hands off on his jeans. “I think we got it all done.”

“Thank you so much Frankie— Really, I truly appreciate it.”

“You're welcome,” he smiles back at you.

“How can I repay you?”

“You bought me coffee, remember? We’re even.”

“No seriously, coffee doesn’t count.”

“Ok fine, how about you pay me back with a second coffee next week? And maybe a donut?”

You tense slightly at the thought because you know how that looks…. But you shake the thought away because you should be allowed to have a friend. And coffee with a friend should be ok. Right??

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll see you next week then.”

He quirks a small smile and nods, “see you next week—.”

Your name sounds so soft coming from his mouth that you instantly blush, turning quickly to walk around to the drivers side and get in. He’s already back to his truck before he offers a small wave. You smile and wave back, starting the car to head to your Mother’s and continue on with your day. The smile never leaving your face as you drive away.

******

A/N: I’ve been playing with the wording of this chapter just trying to get it to flow the right way, but I feel like I’m running in circles with it so here it is lol As always please let me know if you would like to be tagged or if you would like to be removed from the tag list. Thanks for reading!

Tag List:

@just-here-for-the-moment @boliv-jenta @heythere-mel @sunnysidekit @wildemaven @harriedandharassed @bitchwitch1981 @hnt-escape @autumnleaves1991-blog @queridopascal-main @queridopascal @quica-quica-quica @littlemisspascal

[meadow-roses]

Hey can you explain the main plot of keepers?

I'll do my best, I hope this will answer your question 😂

So the main concept of "The Keepers" is a collection of stories that play with the crossover trope. It's hard to say exactly what the plot of the keepers would be at this point in the development, since we're still coming up with the plots of all the individual stories that make up the crossover.

Each of the main characters has their own story they were/are the protagonist of, who's "happy ending" is interrupted by the instability of the universe. They end up meeting and teaming up when they realize they all share exactly the same villain and he's still trying to win.

The main villain is a scientist driven mad by grief, still trying to make his vision a success despite all the loved ones he's lost along the way as a direct result of his research. His end goal isn't necessarily bad- bringing magical equality to the world- but ends don't justify the means and he's tearing apart the universe trying to make everything "fair".

Functionally, Skylar is the main protagonist, mainly because his story kicks off the plot time-bomb but also because he's kinda the one rolling around the multiverse inadvertently collecting allies. (Despite the fact he vehemently insists he's a one man show lol) The other Keepers are Ketsler, Felix, and Betty, but as you might have noticed the cast is pretty extensive. 😂

Skylar's story is a folk fairytale style adventure of two brothers trying to learn what it means to be a Man and also break a curse, but unfortunately the end of the world happens.

Felix's story is a sci-fi/fantasy superhero story set in a dystopian future about family, friendship, and what true bravery is. The main character accidentally becomes the leader of a planetary revolution and meets his true love.

Ketsler's story is about "the prophesied one" struggling to fulfill his role when deep down inside he's just another regular dude, but thankfully the power comes from outside and not within. He, his cousin, and the med student they befriend try to figure out what the source of the evil magic is and it goes terribly wrong.

Betty's is still in the early stages, so I don't quite know what the themes will be, but she is an orphan with psychic powers that lets her hear other's thoughts... including the thoughts of ghosts. In search of a way to use her powers for good and also find a place where she belongs, she moves to Earth and joins the interplanetary organization that studies and controls the supernatural. She certainly meets some supernatural things. :)

There are a Lot of other characters, but those are the main four. Other significant persons would be: Gigi (Skylar's brother), Grace (Felix's wife), Vokku (prince of the Fae), Rhyin (Ketsler's cousin), Haru (Ketsler's apprentice), Vinni (Rhyin's girlfriend), Edmund (the bard from Thistled Rose of Glishern) and the kids from the Ageless War wip.

It's a. Really big story because it's kind of like a 12 book series, so there's a lot of stuff still up in the air that could easily change next week or two years from now, but that's how it stands currently.

If you have any more questions or would like clarification on a point Please don't hesitate to send another ask! I don't want to hit you with a three page essay right off the bat lol

Thank you SO MUCH for your interest and your support!!! 😭💕

[dedicatednotobsessed]

“Anonymous said:

hii, I thought I’d make a request hehe. since I loved the modern Aemond fic, maybe we could get another modern Aemond x Fem reader? 👀

I was thinking of academic rivals in college. People think u both hate each other due to being competitive in academics, but they don’t know that the two of u are secretly dating. hMM I guess at first u guys hate each other, but one day at the library, the two of u bonded and slowly u fell in love with each other. then one day, the two of u got caught at a library making out or at his dorm while Aemond is sneaking u in and got a surprise visit from his siblings or friend, it’s up to you what idea pops into ur head haha :) which leads to them admitting their relationship.

Thank u 🥹”

Dear anon, I posted it prematurely (my brain is on tired mode and accidentally pressed post instead of changing to save draft 😂) and it wouldn’t let me switch to save draft so I had to delete it but thankfully I took a screenshot of your prompt!! Hopefully you see this 💕 For more Aemond/Ewan + other HOTD characters/actors requests, submit it through my ask box 💚

Academic Love [Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader]

Other HOTD stories [requests open]

Gif doesn’t belong to me 💚

Summary: It has been well known throughout the halls of Westeros’ most prestigious college in Kings Landing, that you and Aemond Targaryen had been rivals for the top spot in your year. You see him constantly in the library and he pesters you to try and distract you until one day you finally give in to his annoyance. That annoyance however eventually leads to something more but, you have to keep up appearances around campus….

You chewed lightly on the end of your pencil, your mind zoning in and out as your eyes scanned over the same page for what felt as though it was the third time. Your mind was wandering and it was not on the history of how Westeros came to be. Your eyes kept flickering across the room to watch the long silver haired boy who only had one eye; the supposed story on how he lost his left eye was his nephew accidentally took it out when he was ten years old. 

You could not believe that the night before you had done the one thing you swore you would never do: you had slept with that long haired silver boy, also known as Aemond Targaryen. He was the second youngest son to the Dean, Viserys Targaryen although it seemed as though his wife ran the school. 

The Iron College was the most prestigious college across all of Westeros, the best of the best getting in. The mascot was a red three headed dragon, the words being Fire and Blood. You thought it was a bit cheesy, but you were just thankful you got in. The process to getting in was a lengthy and tiresome one. 

You clenched your jaw feeling a warm hand on your exposed thigh and slapped at the hand, narrowing your eyes at Aemond as he laughed. 

“You act as though you hate me,” He taunted a bit.

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, looking back down at the book in front of you while glaring at it. “What we did was a mistake.”

Aemond smirked lightly as he placed his hand back on your thigh, rubbing it lightly. “Really? Because last night it seemed you were enjoying yourself,” He whispered, leaning close to you.

You suddenly stood up when his hand reached a little too close and you scoffed. You collected your books while stuffing them in your bag. “I do not seem like your type anyway,” You mumbled.

“And how do you know what my type is?” Aemond questioned with a raised brow.

“Well, I heard that you and the rest of your bloodline preferred each other. Is your brother not married to your sister? I am sure you love to fuck her,” You spat.

Aemond laughed a bit, looking over your figure. He couldn’t help but have his eye linger on your dark green mini skirt. You glanced behind you and narrowed your eyes while trying to fix your ridden skirt.

“Fucking pervert,” You mumbled, clutching a book to your chest as you made your exit. 

You sighed, looking down at your feet while you made your way down the crowded hall. Your mind kept wandering to the night before. The way Aemond touched you, it made you feel alive. He knew all the right places to cause you to moan and scream out your name. 

You jumped and yelped feeling someone pinch your bottom and turned around, slapping the boy without a second thought. “What the fuck, Targaryen!” You shouted with narrowed eyes.

Aemond laughed, stepping back a bit. His cheek was red but he had a proud smirk on his lips. “I was just having a little fun, Y/N.”

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

You had your head in your hands, feeling as though you just got hit by a truck. You failed your first test ever, but you didn’t blame yourself. You blamed Aemond being a horrible distraction.

You grumbled hearing the chair scraping across the wooden floor, not even lifting your head when you heard the book fall onto the table.

“Y/N,” You heard the familiar voice, a hand lightly coming down onto his shoulder.

You lifted your head, frowning at Aemond. “What do you want?” You grumbled while sitting up.

“I heard you failed the test.”

You laughed a bit. “So, you’ve come to gloat?” You asked with a raised brow. 

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see if I could help you study.”

You looked over him before sighing softly. “Fine,” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair. “But I would know if you give me false information.”

Aemond chuckled with a small smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

It had been a few months since you’ve slept with Aemond and you have had quite a few so-called tutoring sessions since he has helped you with the last test. The first time you slept with him, it was a drunken mistake; your friend Alys Rivers taking you to the bar near campus. That was the last time you were ever going to listen to her...although listening to her led you to have a boyfriend. 

You hummed lightly as you walked through the library, your usual makeout spot with Aemond. The two of you kept your relationship hidden, knowing if it got out, people would definitely make fun of the two of you. You knew especially Aemond’s older brother would tease him and spread rumors.

You had a slight sway to your hips, wearing the mini green skirt that Aemond was wearing and a black blouse to compliment it. You glanced around before a small squeak passed your lips feeling arms wrap around you and looked up to see your boyfriend. 

“What happened to being secretive?” You hissed as you laughed with him.

Aemond smirked while pulling back. “I like scaring you,” He teased, crossing his arms. 

You glanced around letting out a sigh but you still had a smile on your lips. You were thankful that the library was mainly empty apart from a few people who were too concentrated on the computers or books.

 “Are you ready for another tutoring session?” You purred a bit suggestively while tilting your head.

Aemond glanced around with furrowed brows. “I was thinking we could move our study sessions to somewhere else.”

“Oh, really?” You raised a brow. “Where were you thinking?”

Aemond had a mischievous smirk on his lips as he took your hand. “Let me just show you.”

“Aemond, where are we going?”

Aemond held onto your hand tight, glancing down the hallway of the boys dormitories. He held a finger to his lips and you tried to suppress a giggle. You have never seen this side of Aemond. Ever since the two of you got together, he seemed to be a different person. As though he only showed this side to a select few.

The two of you made it to his dormitory, Aemond knocking on the door and opening it after a moment. “Good, that shit isn’t here right now.”

He pulled you in and quickly closed the door behind you. He did not hesitate to kiss you, smiling as you hungrily returned his kiss. You pulled him close by the back of the neck, deepening the kiss a bit while he slowly backed you towards the bed and letting out a laugh when you fell back. 

You smirked up at him while helping him take his shirt off, pulling him down for another kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling him unbutton your blouse. You shrugged it off while not breaking the kiss although you jumped hearing a loud knock against the wall.

You and Aemond turned to see Aegon standing at the doorway with a smug smirk on his lips. “What are you doing in here!” Aemond shouted, his body staying over yours so you could have some modesty being in your skirt and bra.

“Well....” Aegon began, looking around. “This is also my room and the door was unlocked. I’m so proud that you finally got it wet though, baby brother,” He teased with a small smirk and laughed when a pillow was thrown at him. “But you really need to learn how to use a knock.”

Aemond groaned as he leaned down, nuzzling into your neck when Aegon left. He left light kisses on your neck. “I’m sorry about him.”

You smiled and lightly placed a hand on Aemond’s chest. “Let’s not have him spoil the moment,” You whispered pulling him in for another kiss.

“Oh, YN! If you are ever dissatisfied with--” Aegon began opening the door once more.

“Get out!” You shouted throwing another pillow at the closed door, Aegon’s laugh being heard on the other side. You laid back on the pillow, looking up at your boyfriend with a sigh. “I blame you.”

Aemond chuckled while sitting up and kissing your cheek lightly. “We’ll continue this later.”

You smirked lightly and poked his bare chest. “Good,” You said before leaning over and kissing him quickly. 

You were surprised to fall for Aemond hard and fast, but he seemed different when he was around you. You actually enjoyed his company and the study sessions were not that bad either. You learned to not judge him too harshly and vice versa. The two of you wanted to be the best in the entire college, but perhaps, you could be the best together.

[librarycomic]

Damnation Diaries by Peter Rostovsky. Uncivilized, 2023. 9781941250549. 144pp. https://www.powells.com/book/-9781941250549?partnerid=34778&p_bt

Hell is a miserable place. And the details are all in here, though some of the most horrific are not right on the page. (Perpetual castration is only hinted at. Frustrating installation art is shown but, thankfully, not in detail.) Part of the torture is how scheduled everything is, how predictable -- it all feels like a job, and reminded me of the office-oriented parts of some of Philip K. Dick's novels.

PKRx354 has been in hell for almost 300 years. Despite the ongoing tortures, "things just didn't seem the same anymore." So he starts seeing Hell's only therapist, Fred Greenberg, whose clients include staff and damned souls. Insurance may not cover the sessions, but there's an option to pay by enduring additional tortures. These include trampling and adjuncting at the local art school.

"I was escorted to the chasm where I had to watch reruns of Full House while sitting on a rusty spike.
"

This book made me laugh so many times, and for once I realized I should not try to explain the jokes to my wife. My favorite parts include the ads for services in Hell, like the Hellworld Institute of the Arts ("Because you don't know how creative you are, but you have all eternity to find out."), and the story of what happens to PKRx354's mother.

[smilingformoney]

To Dad, From Abbie: Part 3/3

Summary: Dad Snape | Father's Day 2000.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

Sunday, 18 June 2000

Every year, without fail, Severus managed to forget it was Father’s Day.

He always kept the previous year’s card on his shelf, but it served little to remind him. It was never something he had celebrated for his own father; it had only begun to have any meaning to him six years ago, when Abbie first presented him with a decade’s worth of cards.

But she wasn’t around this year. She was still 3,000 miles away, living her own life in a place so far removed from their little cottage in the countryside that she may as well have been on a different planet.

He had April and Ariadne, of course, and he loved them infinitely. But he missed the traditions he held with Abbie - a card and a cooked breakfast. He had last heard from her a month ago, her excitement plain on the page as she relayed the latest developments in her musical education. It wasn’t unusual to go weeks without a letter, the international post being as slow as it was, but even so his disappointment grew day by day when, from the desk in his study, he would look through the morning’s post and find nothing bearing his eldest’s handwriting.

It was a little over two years now since the war had ended, and for the most part, people’s attentions had drifted away from him, but he still had the occasional request for an interview from Witch Weekly - always binned - or gushing letter from former students who had ‘always’ had a crush on him. Those were binned too - if they had such an interest in him as to warrant a polite rejection, they would at least have made the effort to know he was married.

It was behind one of Witch Weekly’s repeated requests that Severus found an envelope starkly contrasting the others - paper where they were parchment, and bearing international muggle stamps.

The rest of the post forgotten, Severus promptly opened the envelope and found not a letter but a card.

He laughed when he recognised the front. It was almost identical to the first card she had ever made, at the humble age of four, when she had drawn a crude stick figure of an indistinguishable man with a small stick girl.

Her artistic talents had improved little, but this time the stick man had longer hair and a grumpy expression. The stick girl was much taller than before, but still bore the same smile as her younger self.

Thankfully, she hadn’t enchanted them to move. That would have been extremely disconcerting.

Severus opened the card to read:

To Dad, I miss you every day. Love, Abbie (19)

Nineteen. Fifteen years since that first card was made; and, as he remembered every time he was reminded of her age, the same age he had been when she was conceived. He hadn’t truly understood just how young he and Persephone had been until their child had reached the same age. She was still so young; not that it was possible for her, of course, but if she found herself pregnant now he would be infuriated.

His despair over his increasing age was interrupted when the door opened and Persephone entered the room, her wand in one hand as she levitated a plate of food in front of her, while the other hand balanced April on her hip.

“Now, it’s no Abbie breakfast,” she said, “but - Ariadne, get out from under my feet! - we gave it our best.”

The plate landed on the desk, and Severus smiled up at his beautiful, thoughtful wife.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he told her.

“We wanted to. Didn’t we, girls?”

“Dada!” Ariadne exclaimed, toddling around the desk as quickly as her little legs would carry her. “Dada up!”

Severus chuckled and lifted Ariadne onto his lap. She laughed, and immediately tried to grab his face.

“Excuse me, Ariadne, I need my face to eat,” he said.

“Dada Dada Dada!”

“She knows it’s your day,” Persephone laughed. April, meanwhile, was staring longingly at the bacon and eggs on the table. “No, April, that’s Dada’s food. Ariadne, let Dada have his breakfast.”

“I can eat like this,” Severus insisted. He positioned Ariadne to sit on his lap facing away from him, and reached around her to the plate. “Did you two make this all on your own, or did Mama help?”

“I did the cooking. They did the being cute.”

“A very important job.”

“Of course.”

Persephone sat in a nearby chair and shifted April from her hip to her lap. While he was eating, Severus silently handed the card to her, and Persephone laughed at the crude stick drawing. She glanced inside, smiled, then looked back up at him.

“I miss her too,” she said. April took the card and began examining it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “Even with these two monkeys, the house feels empty without her.”

Severus nodded in agreement, nudging the food on his plate sadly. Ariadne decided she was bored and began wriggling on his lap, so he let her down.

April lifted the card up and showed it to Severus, as if it were new to him. He smiled and played along.

“Thank you, April,” he said, taking the card back. He propped it up on his desk.

“Dada sad?” Ariadne asked.

Severus smiled and ruffled her hair. “No, Dada isn’t sad, Ariadne. I’m very happy; I have you, after all. I wish Abbie were here, that’s all.”

“Baba home?”

“Not yet, darling. Soon, though. Soon.”

“Baba home,” Ariadne decided, “Dada happy.”

That was that, apparently, as she turned and toddled off towards the open door.

“Oh, we’re leaving, apparently,” Persephone said. “Enjoy your breakfast, my love.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I hope it somewhat compares to hers.”

“Of course it does, darling; It’s made with love.”

[bowokshop]

Robin Hood - Henry Gilbert

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

"Robin Hood is the best-loved outlaw of all time. In this beautifully illustrated edition, Henry Gilbert tells of the adventures of the Merry Men of the Sherwood Forest - Robin himself, Little John, Friar Tuck, Will Scarlet and Alan-a-Dale, as well as Maid Marian, good King Richard, and Robin's deadly enemies Guy of Gisborne and the evil Sheriff of Nottingham."

I know Robin Hood is generally seen as a tale for children, but I couldn't help but read this edition when I found it at a book fair. I read every word of this book while outside in the bush, as I thought Robin would approve. It certainly added to the atmosphere.

The language does take some getting used to, but I found that after a few pages it becomes quite natural and actually adds to the story. Every character's personality comes through in their language, and it really felt as though I was in the greenwood with them all. As well as this, there are some absolutely beautiful descriptions of nature within every chapter, which speak to the beauty of the greenwood and Robin's connection to it. One of my favourites is found on page 44:

"Most of the villeins lay on their backs, feeling pure enjoyment in looking up into the weaving masses of leaves above their heads, through which, like flaming spear-heads, the sunlight slid now and then as the gentle summer breeze stirred the deeps of the trees."

Additionally, the comments on equality and justice are just as relevant today as they were when these tales were first told. Robin Hood, who steals from the rich and gives to the poor, who lays justice to those who do wrong with no punishment, who defends the innocent, the poor, and women and children with an iron fist, is a symbol of hope to us all; he is testament to the everlasting dream of justice in an unfair society. Robin Hood is the embodiment of a chivalrous and fair man, and we can revere his violent acts against the rich as they finally receive the punishment we know they deserve.

Also, he literally stormed the largest castle in all the land against all odds because they killed his wife, which is honestly all anyone could ask for.

I was dreading the final chapter as soon as I started the novel. I was never actually aware of many of Robin Hood's tales beforehand, so I didn't know how he died - I was expecting some giant battle or valiant sacrifice, where I would be forced to hear of his death amongst the chaos - but, thankfully, this was not the case. His death was almost beautiful. I was sobbing pretty hard all the same, but it gave a nice sense of closure.

I don't think I will ever walk through nature the same way again - in a good way, of course. In all its beauty and all its mysteries, lies the hope of a better future in Robin Hood.