storyswap-color-au

[chungledown-bimothy]

Praying Oisin isn't Actually Terrible, but he is blue, and KVX Bank recently changed their logo from red to blue.

[dangoulains-devotion]

yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad

[buckyalpine]

Did You Hear

Fluffyy crack fic and nothing else. Imagine Tony Stark's shy new assistant sitting at the kitchen island for breakfast, getting a cup of tea before heading to the lab. She's sipping from her steaming mug when a very pretty super solider walks in from his run and the heat rising in her cheeks isn't from the hot Earl Grey.

"Mornin' y/n" He gives you a polite smile while he makes his way to the fridge and you had to silence the squeak that nearly escapes your lips. He's in a pair of snug grey sweats which are resting sinfully low on his hips and his tight black t-shit showing off every divot and curve of muscle on his torso. You bite you lip as he bends down to grab a cold bottle of water, silencing a squeal with a sip of tea.

"Morning, Sergeant" You give him a smile and the lopsided grin he gives you as he goes on about his day leaves you giggling and kicking your feet. You were just about finished your cup when Nat walked in next, looking you up and down with a shake of her head.

"Bucky was here, wasn't he" She playfully rolled her eyes knowing the effect the brunette had on you. "What happened this time"

"Bucky has a cute butt" You giggled, while Nat snorted at your flustered state. "And slutty thighs"

"Do you ever plan on actually telling him"

"No!" You vigorously shook your head. That was out of the question for you; you were happy to admire the soldier from afar. The last thing he'd want is to have to deal with is the playground crush you had on him anyway, it was a miracle he even noticed you. "He doesn't even see me that way"

"Well, guess we'll never know" She sassed as you slipped off the stool to make your way to the lab.

"I'm happy to admire God's work from a safe distance!" You called over your shoulder while Nat shook her head, smirking to a third person you didn't see who was lingering near the kitchen, very happy to listen intently to the conversation that was taking place.

The one that was supposed to be a secret from Bucky's ears.

That wouldn't do.

-

"Did you hear?" Sam grinned, sauntering over where Bucky was sparring with Steve, both men panting after already going for a few rounds. "Word on the street is you have a cute butt"

"What" Bucky deadpanned while Steve smirked, watching the heat in his friends cheeks already starting to creep up to his ears.

"Mhm, that little tush of yours has been getting a lot of attention lately"

"From who" Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion, frowning when Sam cackled, clapping his shoulder.

"Tony's cute lil assistant" He says with a wink, noting the immediate change in Bucky's demeanor, his frown falling off his face, replaced with a very pink blush.

"You mean y/n?"

"Uh huh. Must've been those slutty grey sweats you've been running around in"

"Slutty?"

"Extremely. Especially with those thighs"

"And how do you know this" Bucky struggled to bite back a smile, not wanting to get his hopes up until he was sure. "There's no way she-

"Heard her talking to Nat this morning. She sounded real excited after seeing you and your cute butt" Sam gave him a swat causing him to yelp.

"Hm. Interesting" The soldier nodded already looking towards the showers so he could rinse off and find you.

"Yeah, yeah, go find your girl" Steve shoved Bucky off the mat with a grin. Bucky jogged off to the lab right after a shower, purposely throwing on a new pair of his snug joggers. He smirked as he walked in seeing you fully focused on a small creation Tony created, tinkering away without noticing him.

"Hey doll"

"Ser-sergeant!" You squeaked in surprise as he strode inside, dropping the gadget you were working on, "What can I help you with"

"Sam told me something earlier", Bucky shrugged casually while you stayed frozen in your seat, your heart rate picking up the closer he got. "Was wonderin' if you knew anything about it"

"What's-what's that" You fidgeted nervously, his baby blues staring at you intently, loving how flustered you looked.

"Someone said something about me having a cute butt"

"Oh" You looked like deer in headlights, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Oh?" Bucky smirked while you hid your face in your hands, ready to sink to the floor and hide under the table, he must have thought you were such a pervert. "And something about slutty thighs-

"Not just your butt! All-all of you is cute all over" You squeaked out before slapping a hand over your mouth realizing you were making it worse.

"All of me, huh" Bucky pried your hand away from your face, cupping your cheek instead, the cool metal of his arm soothing your hot skin. "So you do think I have a cute butt and slutty thighs"

His thumb came up to pull your bottom lip away from where it was caught between your teeth, smiling at the little nod you gave him, too scared to open your mouth.

"Well I'm glad"

"Y-you are?" You shyly whispered, nearly whining when he brought his other hand to hold your face gently, his lips brushing against yours.

"Mhm, means I can do this" You went limp in his hold, every muscle in your body turning into mush as he kissed your lips sweetly, the gentle peck feeling like he'd stolen your breath away. "Don't faint on me sweets" Bucky chuckled as he pulled away, seeing the dazed look on your face.

"Such a cute butt" You whispered to yourself, eyes growing wide when you realized you said that out loud. You buried yourself in his chest making Bucky grin, kissing the top of your head.

"Want to grab coffee with my cute butt?" Bucky tipped your chin up to look at him, "I'll even bring my slutty thighs" He threw in with a wink.

"Promise?" You giggled while he slipped in his hand in yours, leading you towards the door.

"Scouts honor, doll"

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

CAN U DO JUDE BELLINGHAM FLUFF LIKE TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF... LIKE uh having a family with him and its all sweet

Pink Dress

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your daughter takes after you, something that Jude both hates and loves.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Husband!Jude Bellingham x Wife!you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.2k

Warnings! FLUFF, cute kid, domestic fluff, sweetness, baby fever, dilfjude, he's such a good dad.

Jude had always loved that your daughter had taken your sassy side.

After all it was the thing that made him fall in love with you.

But right now, he was at his wit's end. The spirited retorts that once charmed him now echoed through the house like tiny thunderclaps. Your daughter, standing defiantly with her hands on her hips, mirrored the very stance you used to take when you challenged him.

The same fiery determination in her eyes, the same spark that had drawn him to you so many years ago.

He took a deep breath, and he knelt down to her level. "I'm sorry babygirl, but we have to hurry." Clearly, that was not the right thing to say.

Her lips pursed in that familiar way, a mini-him staring back at him with an unyielding resolve. "But Daddy, I not wanna wear the blue dwess. I wanna wear the pink one!" she insisted, her stubborness rivaling yours.

Why did the women in his life love to go against him.

Jude glanced at the clock, knowing they were already running late. He softened his tone, trying to channel the patience you always seemed to have in abundance. "I know you do, and the pink one is lovely. But remember, mommy picked out the blue dress for picture day. We don't have time to change now."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and for a moment, his heart ached at the sight. He could never say no to his little girl. Something she knew. And used to her advantage.

He pulled her into a gentle hug, her small frame trembling slightly. "Okay, okay," he whispered, stroking her hair. "How about this? After picture day, we'll have a special Daddy-Daughter day, and you can wear your favorite pink dress then. We can go to the park, get some ice cream, whatever you want. Deal?"

Nora sniffled, considering his offer. "Pwomise?" Her tiny voice was filled with hope, and Jude could see the wavering resolve in her eyes. He smiled and wiped away her tears with his thumb. "I promise, sweetheart. Pink dress, ice cream, and the park. Just the two of us."

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. "Otay, Daddy."

Jude stood up, lifting her effortlessly placing her on his hip before giving her a big kiss on the cheek. "Let's go show Mommy how beautiful you look in your blue dress, huh?"

Her giggle was music to his ears, and as they made their way to the bedroom.

Jude felt a wave of relief wash over him. The crisis had been averted, and his little girl was smiling again. He would kill to keep that smile on her face. Forever.

He gently pushed the door open, and there you were, laying in bed with Klara laying on your chest. Jude felt his heart swell at the sight. She was fast asleep, her tiny hand clutching your shirt. And you looked as beautiful as ever.

Even though it had only been a few days since the baby had arrived, you seemed to radiate an otherworldly glow. Just like the goddess he knew you were. God, he was a lucky bastard.

Jude tiptoed into the room, not wanting to disturb the peaceful scene. You looked up at him with tired but loving eyes, and he could see the exhaustion etched into your face. Yet, there was an unmistakable serenity there too, a contentment that mirrored his own.

"Look who's ready for picture day," he whispered, turning slightly so you could see Nora perched on his hip, now beaming in her blue dress. You smiled, amusement swimming in your eyes. You knew how much of a hellion your daughter could be and you were thankful to Jude for volunteering to tame her. The cute adorable little beast.

"Well, don't you look absolutely stunning, my little princess," you cooed softly, careful not to wake the baby. Your daughter preened at the compliment, any earlier resistance forgotten in the face of your praise.

Jude carefully set her down and she immediately ran over to you, climbing onto the bed with the kind of energy only a young child possessed. She carefully snuggled up next to you, and you wrapped an arm around her, holding both your children close.

"Ready for your big day?" you asked her, brushing a stray curl away from her face. She nodded enthusiastically, her earlier tears now just a distant memory.

"Yeah!" she chirped, her excitement bubbling over. "Daddy said after pictures we can have a Daddy-Daughter day!"

You glanced at Jude, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Did he now? That sounds like a wonderful idea." The softie. This is how it went everytime.

Jude chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged. "What can I say? She's got me wrapped around her little finger." That she did.

You laughed softly, the sound a soothing balm to his soul. "I know the feeling," you said, looking down at Klara who was still peacefully asleep. The love the both of you had for your daughters was something that sometimes scared you. The way you would do anything for them. Anything.

He watched as you gently kissed the top of Nora's head, and sighed. Jude knew then and therre that he couldn't have picked a better mom for his precious little girls. You were everything he ever wanted, ever dreamed of. You've given him everything and he vowed everyday to reciprocate that.

He loves doing life with you.

Nora snuggled closer to you, her tiny fingers playing with the edge of your shirt. "Mommy, can you come too? To the park and ice cream?"

Your eyes met Jude's, a silent conversation passing between you. You knew how much he cherished these special moments alone with Nora, needed them.

What with his career taking up a lot of his time sometimes. He had often shared his fears with you. Fears of missing out on their lives. But you were always there to reassure him.

"I think Daddy and Nora should have their special day," you said softly, smoothing down her curls. "But maybe we can all go together another time. What do you think?"

Nora seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding. "Okay, Mommy. We can do that."

Jude smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. "It's a deal then," he said, giving you a grateful look. "And maybe tonight, after picture day and our little adventure, we can all have dinner together. Just the four of us."

You nodded, your eyes shining with love and happiness. "I'd like that very much. Now you guys better get going so you're not late. I want good pictures." You squinted playfully at the two, causing Jude to get into a soldire stance.

"Ma'am! Yes ma'am!" Jude teased, saluting with a grin. Nora giggled, mimicking his salute with an exaggerated seriousness that melted into laughter. You chuckled softly, shaking your head at their antics.

With a final glance at Klara, still peacefully asleep in your arms, Jude gently scooped up Nora and headed for the door. She squealed in delight, waving enthusiastically at you as they made their way out of the room. You waved back, your heart swelling with love for your little tribe.

You were the luckiest woman in the world.

No one could convince you otherwise.

-Bianca🌻

[peppermint-whiskers]

Introducing:

An au by myself and @emositecc (all artwork here done by her, btw! 💖💖)

Premise: Because snake forms aren't common in Heaven, Pentious has to change forms per Sera’s orders in order to not make waves. At the same time, she places a spell on him that prevents him from speaking about who he was before and his time in Hell. Using the nickname Pen, he's sent down to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption, acting as the representative. While there, he has a lot of trouble reconnecting because of the spell and because of the weird deja vu the others get whenever he's around. It also doesn't help that they're still mourning Pentious—he can't tell them that he's okay and that redemption works.

He does succeed in reconnecting with them, but only as “Pen.”

It'll be done in 3 acts:

Act 1: Reconnection

Sir Pentious, under the alias Pen, is sent to Hell every once in a while to help them with redemption. There, he struggles to reconnect with his friends, who are still mourning his supposed "death."

Act 2: Mind Wipe

After a disasterous event caused by Alastor, Pentious begs Sera to wipe his memories of his life before as it's the only way he can think of to ease the pain. This works for only a while, and the confusion between his two forms makes him restless. Emily smuggles him back to Hell to help him regain his memories.

Act 3: Consequences

After resolving the mind wipe, Sera realizes the error of her actions and tries in earnest to help Charlie's hotel with redemption. However, the reveal of the mind wipe and redemption causes waves in both Heaven and Hell.

Some artwork and snippets (written by me) under the cut!

No spoilers yet, obviously uwu

Snippet 1:

“The envoy is supposed to come today!” Charlie exclaimed, positively bouncing around the hotel lobby. “I'm sooooo excited! What do you think they'll be like??”

“Sexy,” Angel immediately said with his usual teasing tone.

“Respectful,” Vaggie sighed. After failed extermination, they've had countless meetings with Heaven, and the head seraphim has been . . . less than helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, dealing with Emily was much preferred to dealing with Sera.

“I just hope you know what you're doing,” Husk chimed in. “Inviting an angel to stay longterm here could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlie assured them. “We'll keep them safe, and they'll help us with redemption! It's a win-win!”

A circular portal opened up just outside the hotel. Squealing with joy, Charlie rushed outside to meet their newest friend and staff member. Out stepped a tall gentleman with dark skin, white hair, and a pale blue suit. His eyes seemed to look over the hotel with nostalgia—Charlie would bet anything that in life, he was a hotel manager himself. That would be just perfect! She could use a little more help than Alastor deigned to provide.

Snippet 2

Their new guest wasn't doing so well. Somehow, through fake coughs and weak insistence, Pen managed to convince Charlie that he didn't need to come out of his room, thank you very much. Charlie wasn't dumb, of course, and her sympathetic nature was just one of the many reasons Vaggie loved her. Instead of pressing the issue, she let Pen stay in his room for the day and let him continue claiming he was sick.

He may have convinced the others, but Charlie and Vaggie both knew better. Angels couldn't get sick, but this was one hell of a bout of homesickness.

Charlie herself brought meals up to his room and coaxed him to eat, and Vaggie went when she was busy, but he never once opened the door. After two days of this, Vaggie finally took it upon herself to see him herself and get to the bottom of this. Breakfast in hand, she headed up the stairs and prepared herself for a battle of wills of which she was sure she would win.

[ssahotchnerr]

could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?

something special

<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining

"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.

"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."

about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.

you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.

when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.

"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"

"since always." jack grinned proudly.

"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"

"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.

a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.

"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"

jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."

"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.

"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."

there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.

"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."

"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.

just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.

in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.

it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.

again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.

"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."

aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.

jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"

"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."

[thevoidstaredback]

The plan was set and the game had begun.

There was a meeting on the Watchtower exactly three days after the Bat Clan had decided to mess with the Justice League, so that's when they planned to set everything in motion.

Robin couldn't be at the meeting because it fell during school hours, so Nightwing had come to the meeting with Batman. He'd already had the day off, so it wasn't too much of a hasel. Red Hood and Red Robin had both wanted to come, but they also had civilian duties to take care of.

When the meeting was over, the 'main leaguers', as many others had dubbed them, stayed behind as they always did. Normally, it was just so they all could catch up, sometimes to arrange another meeting, or even to discuss more sensitive topics.

This time, when everyone but Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, Green Lantern, The Flash, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, Cyborg, and Nightwing had left the room, Nightwing threw his arm across Batman's shoulders and said "You all should come to the Cave!"

All conversation stopped as everyone turned to look at the black and blue clad vigilante. For a long moment, no one spoke or moved. Then, Batman nodded.

"Perfect!" Nightwing's smile got even bigger.

"Um," Superman, the sweet midwesterner, flicked his eyes over to Batman's face before looking at Nightwing. "Are you sure? Bat's has never let any of us into Gotham, let alone the Bat Cave."

Nightwing winked at the hero, his domino mask not hiding it, "Yeah, well, me and the others managed to wear him down. Besides, we've all wanted to give you guys a tour! We've been to all your secret hideouts, so we figured it's about time you saw ours!"

"I'm sorry," Green Lantern raised his hand slightly, "'Others'?"

Nightwing blinked, his smile dropping. Batman straightened up. "Did you-" Nightwing cut himself off, "You do know how many of us there are in Gotham, right?"

The heroes all looked at one another. Sure, they'd heard that there was two, maybe three, working with Batman, but nothing had ever been confirmed aside from Robin working with Batman and Nightwing working in Bludhaven.

Batman fought very hard to keep a smirk off his face. Nightwing didn't even try to hide his amusement.

Wonder Woman was the one to ask, "There are rumors, but I can't say any of us know exactly how many heroes work within Gotham City limits."

Nightwing and Batman shared a glance. This added so much more to their game. They had to tell the others! This was already so much fun, but it was about to get so much better!

"Then, I guess you all have no choice but to come to the Cave with us so you can meet everyone!" Nightwing exclaimed.

The eight heroes shared looks with one another before looking back at Batman and Nightwing. Their choice was obvious to the two Bats before the group had even decided.

"Alright," Aquaman said, "When would you like us to stop by?"

Right on script. Batman said, "Meet here tomorrow at fifteen-hundred New Jersey time. We'll be here to bring you down to the Cave." Then, he left, Nightwing trailing behind him.

"Cool," Flash nodded, "Cool, cool. Totally not nerve wracking at all."

Cyborg stood from his seat. "Don't be nervous, Flash. We're actually being allowed in Gotham. Batman doesn't let anyone in Gotham."

"No," Green Arrow said, "He doesn't let anyone operate in Gotham. I've been many times."

"As Green Arrow or as a civilian?"

He fell silent and the others all laughed. He joined them.

"Regardless," Martian Manhunter said, "I think it's good he's allowing us to see his main base of operations."

"Yeah," agreed Superman, "I wonder what it'll be like."

Wonder Woman was the next to stand from her seat. "It will be quite the tour, I'm sure."

Part 2 Part 4

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

[ddejavvu]

hello!! i hope you’re doing well ❤️ i just read your hotch fic where he sneaks his wife and jack into the hotel room and i was wondering if you’d write something similar where jack is with jess or something and someone from the team catches hotch and reader going into his room except they can’t tell it’s reader and think hotch is cheating and they love the reader and can’t stand the idea of letting them get cheated on so maybe they confront him or call reader while reader is with hotch to tell her or something funny, whatever you find fitting. thank you if you get to this ❤️

i actually fucking adored this idea thank you <333

--

Emily's always taken Hotch for an honorable man. He's chivalrous, opening doors for the ladies on the team and walking them to their cars to be sure that they're safe in parking lots. It's instilled in his very being to be kind to women, so when she sees him trying to cover up a head of blue-dyed hair as he fumbles with the lock on his hotel room, she's perplexed.

That's not you. You don't have blue hair. But Hotch's arm is around her waist, and she's leaning into his side. His hand is more than generous over her skin, even slipping into the hemline of her shorts, and Emily's blood boils.

Aaron's got a grin on his face that she can just barely see without being seen herself, and he sounds all-too-happy to be leading another woman into his hotel room after hours when he chuckles at her advances. She rushes for the bed and Emily has to duck back into her room so as not to be seen when the woman rights herself on the bed, and there's something sickly brewing in her gut as she shuts her door again. She no longer has an appetite to raid the vending machine like she'd planned, so she heads back to her twin bed, hand digging into her pajama pants to retrieve her phone.

Spencer' who's occupying the second bed in the room, looks up inquisitively from his book, "I thought you were going to the vending machine, what happened?"

"Hotch just let some girl into his room. I mean- like, he brought her in, he had his hands all over her and she ran to the bed."

Reid's brows rise towards his scruffy hairline, pink lips downturned, "It wasn't Y/N?"

"She had blue hair," Prentiss shakes her head, "I'm gonna tell her."

"I want to help," Spencer rises from his bed, quickly crossing the room to her own, "I don't want to make her sad, but we can't keep it from her."

Emily nods, but Spencer keeps talking, "I... I can't believe Hotch would do something like that."

"Neither can I." Emily admits, clicking on your text thread. It's heavily decorated with hearts both in the messages and your contact name, and she hopes yours doesn't break when you find out what your husband's been doing behind your back.

Y/N, she types, I don't know how to tell you this, and I wish someone else would, because I don't want to be the one to break your sweet heart. But I just saw Aaron bring some blue-haired girl into his room, and if I'm being honest with you, I think they're having sex. I'm SO sorry honey, I wish I could do something, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you. Please call me and tell me what's going on with you, I don't want you to be alone all night, and PLEASE don't slip away if you and Aaron don't work things out. For the record I'm rooting for you to dump his sorry ass, but I know you'll need time to work things out. All I ask is that you don't shut us out, honey, please don't let him change the way you feel about us.

P.S Reid is here too and we're both here if you want to talk. We can face-time and we'll be there for you as best we can, baby.

And also you can sleep at my place.

Or Spence's. He says he can sleep on the couch if you want his bed.

I'm so sorry, Y/N, we love you.

Emily can't have pressed send on the last text ten seconds ago before there's a series of urgent knocks on the door. Her guard is up immediately, and she almost considers ignoring it because she's sure it's Hotch coming to tell her off for exposing him. She figures you must have called him, upset, and he's here to ask her to lie for him.

The knocks don't stop, though, and Reid's the one that marches for the door, face set in a glare that's unusually menacing for him. He's deduced the same series of events, but when he swings the door open with as much sass as he can muster, his posture stiffens with shock.

Aaron is on the other side of the door, but you're standing in front of him, hair bright blue, face sheepish.

"Hi Em," You smile at her, then at Reid, "Spence. I was going to join you all for breakfast tomorrow and unveil it, but- um, I think now's a good time to tell you that I dyed my hair blue."

"Oh." Emily hums, mouth hung slightly open, "So it's- it was you."

"it was me," You nod, "But thank you for telling me. I'm glad I can count on you. Both of you," Your eyes flit to Spencer, who's equally astonished as he inspects your new hair dye.

"Oh, that means-" Emily's face wrinkles suddenly, looking at your waist that Aaron's got a hold of as he stands behind you, "Gross, you two were gonna- in the hotel!"

Spencer groans, rushing away from the door and retreating back to his bed where his novel lies.

"It's after hours!" You insist, "It's not like we were doing it in the precinct on government time. We're adults, Emily."

"We're adults too, y'know. With work in the morning. We can't be kept up all hours of the night by your racket! Just go get it over with," She grimaces, "And- hey! Try to get into your room this time before reaching your hand down her pants, perv!"

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Hello! I was wondering, if you'd like, could you write a hc for Toshiro, Shinji and Shunsui (and if you'd like to add any other characters), dealing with a fem!reader who just won't confess her love, even though it's very obvious? It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer. I would love to see what you come up with! Thank you very much in advance! 💗

Bleach Men and Shy Reader

Hello! Sorry it took me a while to get to this! I'm always struggling to keep characterization accurate which is why this took forever. I love this request btw. So I just didn't get a HC feel for this because I felt like half the fun was in the dialogue of getting reader to confess. So I wrote scenarios instead. Hope you don't mind! ^_^' All fluff, slightly suggestive at places but mostly harmless.

icons by @/pfpanimes and @/xoxomyseriesxoxo

Toshiro (aged up)

"Y/n, I think we're good. We got all the information we need."

Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he takes in their surroundings one last time. Their surveying mission had gone well and he was hoping to get back to Soul Society before the sun sets.

"Y/n...?"

He looks around, then his face turns into a look of exasperation as he sees you petting Hyorinmaru like a puppy. Even Hyorinamru seemed to be enjoying the attention, eyes closed, making a loud rumbling noise which he supposed could be comparable to a cat purring.

You were some distance away so he starts to walk over to you as you press your forehead against the large ice dragon's face. It was perplexing why Hyorinmaru behaved the way he did around you, but of course, zanpakuto were mainifestations of their owners. Hitsugaya's face relaxed slighty and took on a softer expression as you continued to play with Hyorinmaru. He was also uncomfortably aware of the way his heart beat a little faster when you were around. Perhaps that's why his zanpakuto behaved similarly.

You were cooing at the large blue dragon. "You're such a good boy. The best ice dwagon...yes..."

You press a kiss to Hyorinmaru's face. Softly, you then say, "I wonder if Hitsugaya taicho feels it when I kiss you..."

Hitsugaya freezes, wondering if he should say something. He didn't feel it, but wouldn't it be wondrous if he could?

"Y/n," he calls out, making you jump. Your face turns red, and you quickly try to compose yourself.

"Hitsugaya taicho! I apologize, I didn't hear you. Are we done with our mission?"

"Yes...I believe we are." He hesitates before saying, "What were you telling Hyorinmaru before?"

You feel your heart racing and try to brush off his question. "It's nothing! I was just being silly. He's a very sweet dragon."

"Yes, I suppose he can be..."

A moment of awkward silence passes between you both before you say, "We'd better get back to Soul Society huh?" Trying to pass over your awkward exchange, you slip past Hitsugaya and start walking back. Hyorinmaru vanishes a minute later as Hitsugaya follows you.

After a few minutes, Hitsugaya quietly says, "I can't feel it."

Your heart skips a beat. Surely you must have heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I can't feel it when you kiss Hyorinmaru."

A jolt of electricty runs through you. Had he heard that?! "Oh, well good. That would have been weird."

"Yeah I guess so...but...would it be a bad thing?"

"Would what be a bad thing?"

"If I could feel it."

You feel like your heart may leap out of your chest. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. "Well you can't so...I guess we'll never know!"

"I mean you could just tell me."

Your words catch in your throat. When you talk again, they come out shaky. "Tell you what?"

"If it's good or bad."

A very palpable, tense, moment lingers between both of you. All that can be heard is the rustling of your robes and your footsteps as the both of you continue to walk.

"I guess...it wouldn't be...too bad, right?" You offer.

"No, I don't think it would be." Hitsugaya looks directly at you. "Those words weren't meant for Hyorinmaru to hear excusively were they?"

You look away. "Well I wasn't saying it out loud intentionally if that's what you mean."

"What's the worst that could've happened? If you had said those words to me?"

"You may have gotten the wrong impression of me..."

"Wrong impression? So you don't like me?"

Well you had kind stepped right into that question. "I...I..."

Why was it so hard to admit your feelings? Your eyes squeeze shut.

"Hey, y/n. It's ok." Hitsugaya pats your shoulder reassuringly. "How about this? I'll bring out Hyorinmaru. You can tell him whatever you want. If that makes it easier."

You look at him with gratitude in your eyes. You knew you weren't getting out of this one until Hitsugaya had a satisfactory answer.

With a small swish of reiatsu, Hyorinmaru appears in front of you. You look into the striking blue eyes of the dragon, so similar to its owner, and take its face between your hands.

"Hey Hyorinmaru," you say softly. "So, I just wanted to say. I think I like someone, and he knows it. But...I'm scared to admit my feelings because...deep down...I feel like he's worthy of someone more talented and special. So if you have an answer to this, please let me know."

Warm hands wrap around your waist and to your surprise, Hitsugaya pulls you against him, resting his cheek on the back of your head.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

You take a deep breath, cheeks pink as a peach.

"Yeah. More than enough."

Shinji

You and Shinji trudged back to his quarters after a particularly tiring mission. It wasn't uncommon for you recuperate in his quarters because his place was simply the closest to the gate when getting back into the Seiretei. And after a long gruelling mission, questions about appropriateness get tossed out the window.

Your muscles ache and you feel your reiatsu pulse as you force yourself to walk. The comforting feeling of the courtyards near Shinji's quarters fill your senses.

"Not too far along now y/n. You can shower first this time."

You look at Shinji side eyed, remembering how the last time he'd hidden the soap when you had made a dash to the bathroom to shower first.

Clearly he was remembering it too because he smirks at you and says, "How about next time, you bring your own soap, you freeloader?"

"I'm a rookie shinigami, taicho. I hardly make enough to afford luxuries like soap." You respond sarcastically.

"You just wanna use mine because you like the way I smell. Admit it. You get off on having my scent on your skin." Shinji says teasingly, giving you a shit-eating grin.

The color rises in your face and you look away. It was true but you couldn't admit that. Instead you say, "As if. Like I enjoy smelling like your cheap deodarant."

"And how would you know my deodarant smells cheap? Have you been going through my toiletries y/n? Like some kind of pervert?" Shinji nudges you playfully.

"Why I might have to start hiding my boxers, in case I find you in my room sniffing around at night."

"Eeewww," you say, wrinkling your nose. You start to walk faster so that you're ahead of him, not wanting him to see how fantastically red your face is getting.

Chuckling, Shinji sprints after you, grabbing the back of your shihakusho, and bringing you to his side, arm draping possessively around your shoulders so that you can't move.

"Taicho," you say through gritted teeth. "What would happen if someone sees us this way? It's very unbecoming of a captain."

"Strange, I don't seem to recall you saying that whenever you crash at my place after a mission." Shinji stops walking and turns so that he's facing you, blocking your way, a hand on each of your shoulders.

You can't look at him now, and drop your gaze. "That's...different. I sleep in your spare bedroom. We both know that and would say the same. But this kind of behavior...out here in the open...someone might mistake us..."

"Mistake us how exactly?" Shinji presses, not relenting at the fact that you're barely able to keep your head up now. "Mistake us as...lovers?"

He drawls the last word and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart races and you can't seem to think of a comeback. He was so close to you and his hands were holding on tight.

"N-no," you stammer, trying to keep calm.

"No? What else could they mistake us for that's gotten you so red?" Shinji takes a step closer to you and grasps your chin, lifting you face up to look at his. Helpless, you look into his brown eyes which are looking at yours with amusement.

When you fail to reply, he continues. "There's plenty of reasons they could mistake us for lovers, y/n. I mean, we cuddle on the couch."

"That's because-"

"We've eaten together so many times I've lost count." He barrels over your objection. "Your toothbrush is in a cup on my bathroom counter. Do I need to keep giving you more examples about how unconventional our relationship is? It definitely isn't a captain-subordinate one anymore."

Caught, you try to jerk your face out of his grip which only tightens. "Well, doll? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're living with me, but you seem to be trying to convince yourself otherwise."

"I-that's-" you sputter, trying to retort. "How about the fact that we don't feel that way about each other? Doesn't that count for anything?" you say desperately, hoping for a final chance to keep your heart from getting hurt.

Shinji's expression changes from amusement to thoughfulness. "Don't feel that way about each other...hmm...so...why am I teasing you this way? Why do I allow you to cuddle up to me when we're watching TV? Why am I here, forcing you to look at me, and making my intentions known if I don't feel that way about you?"

Your heart skips a beat and you quit struggling. He couldn't possibly...?

"And why are you blushing so much when I say all this? Why haven't you stopped looking at my lips this whole time?" His voice becomes a soft timbre and his hands drop from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so resistant to what you're feeling towards me?"

Your chest swells with emotion as his words wash over you. For the longest time, you'd hidden your feelings, hoping he wouldn't notice. Because how embarrssing and cliche? A subordinate falling for her captain?

"I...may...like you as more...than my captain..." You admit grudgingly.

"There we go. Now was that so hard?" Shinji rests his thumbs on your cheeks, stroking gently. "For the record, I'm not playing around. I'm serious."

You peek up at him. "Promise?"

"Well...I'm not a fan of making promises I can't keep- OUCH!" Shinji lets out a yelp of pain as you shove him hard in the ribs before scurrying off towards his quarters.

Humbled, he quickly chases after you. "Y/n! I am dead serious! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"

When he hears you laughing, his eyes narrow.

"Very well then doll...I suppose I'll have to torture the confession out of you while hiding the soap again...maybe this time after you've gotten in the shower..."

Shunsui

Your eyes roam over the voluptous shinigami talking to Shunsui. He certainly seems to have a type. You sigh and try to focus on your own work. Being an aide to Shunsui has been insightful in terms of getting experience but also an eye-opening period where you would see how many women seem to sidle up to him for attention.

Shunsui chuckles at the woman before she saunters out, hips swaying. He fixes his hat and stretches, the neck of his shihakusho slipping down to reveal his toned pecs.

Such a slut you think to yourself as you try to finish your paperwork. Although, truth be told, you weren't sure if that was entirely true. Women went up to him all the time, sure. How many of those women made it back to his quarters was another question entirely. Not as many as people thought, according to Nanao.

Shunsui glances over at you, a cheeky smile widening over his face. "Enjoying the view?" he teases, as you suddenly flush, realizing you'd been staring shamelessly at his chest for the past minute.

"N-no," you stammer. "Just wondering how brazen you must be to have your shihakusho practically untied while in the office."

"Not as brazen as my subordinate who's been visually feeling me up," he shoots back with a wink.

You quickly look back to your paperwork. Was it your fault he was an attractive looking man for his age? You heart thuds in your chest and you take a deep breath to calm down. This does not go unnoticed by Kyoraku who puts his face on his palm, leaning on his desk looking at you.

"Let's get a drink tonight."

Surely you misheard him. "...What?"

"I know you heard me y/n." He chuckles, a rich, low, rumble emanating from his throat. "And based on what I've seen, I think you've imagined more than having a drink with me."

Your throat goes dry. "You got that...from a one-off look?" Your words come out like a croak.

"Well darling, you've been making eyes at me all evening. Thought I'd save you the trouble." He gets up from the desk and wanders over towards you.

Your brain goes into panic mode. "I-I can't. Busy today."

"Ah hm...I see." Shunsui says in that lazy way, getting closer to you. "Busy. So very busy. Tell me. What plans do you have tonight that you're too busy to get a drink with your captain?"

Your mind blanks out at his question. Seeing the look of disarray on your face, Shunsui offers you a sympathetic pat. "I can give you a minute if you need to come up with an excuse. Maybe pretend to watch the birds outside?"

Your cheeks burn at his suggestion. "Unnecessary. Clearly I don't have one. Apart from I don't want to."

"Now why's that? I like you, and you seem to return the feeling. I've been around long enough to know when a woman is interested in me. So what's the problem?"

"I'm your subordinate. And with your reputation I don't wish to be another statistic in your book."

"Statistic?" Shunsui looks at you with sharp eyes. "Darling, how many women do you think I've been with?"

"I don't know. 2000 years is a long time."

He looks stunned at your words then sighs deeply. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not thinking of making you a 'statistic'. I actually like you."

Your heart races. "Say that again."

"I like you. I'm not too proud to hide how I feel. Now how about you stop insulting me and admit you like me too?"

You take a deep breath. "I'll have a drink with you."

"Well that's a start I suppose."

"And tie up your damn shihakusho."

"And miss the chance to have you stare at me all night?" Shunsui's eyes glitter with mischief. "I think not."

[loupy-mongoose]

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

[shadowmaat]

Shatterpoint Shuffle

I decided to have a bit of fun with @bitter-chocolate-stars's cracky idea about time traveling clones and tiny Obi-Wan, as aided and abetted by @krazykupidspoems.

-

Padawan Mace Windu entered the Kybuck Clan crèche. scanning the tiny initiates currently engaged in free play. He stopped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of one initiate, who was offering their sippy cup to the air.

His Master bumped into him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Is something wrong, Padawan?" Master Myr asked.

Mace pressed his back against her, wanting to get out of the room.

"That initiate," he said, swallowing a wave of nausea. "They... The shatterpoints. They're made of shatterpoints!"

The initiate in question was talking to an imaginary friend, oblivious to Mace's discomfort. They pulsed in the Force, surrounded by fracture lines and shards of barely-glimpsed potential. Shifting, twisting, changing; Mace pressed his thumb into the base of his wrist, trying to suppress the dizziness.

"Is that so?" Master Myr leaned over his shoulder, looking at the initiate. "How interesting."

The initiate's head whipped around, locking eyes with Mace, who tried once again to back away. They scrambled to their feet and ran over, beaming up at him.

"Gen'ral Windu! Ponds says he misses you!" They held their arms out. "Up!"

For a heartbeat one of the shards grew bigger, giving Mace the impression of... eyes, maybe. Or blood.

"Ponds?" He echoed, stooping to pick them up. He didn't want this walking nest of shatterpoints anywhere near him, but some imperatives were too big to override.

"General," his Master murmured behind him.

"Uh huh!" The initiate flopped against his chest, thumb inserted in their mouth, talking around it. "He says s'not your fault, it was that b-" They broke off, glancing aside. "Huh? A bad word? Oh, okay! It was the bad lady's fault."

Guileless grey-blue eyes stared up at him. A flicker, and they were older and filled with grief. Another flicker and they were younger, dancing with humor. Another flicker.

Mace blinked to clear it away, swallowing his queasiness.

"Thank you for telling me, initiate," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"You seem very knowledgeable, little one," Master Myr said. "Do you know my Padawan well?"

"Uh huh!" They paused mid-nod, glancing aside. "Uh uh!" They shook their head. "I will someday? That's what Cody says!"

"And who is Cody?"

He could feel Cyslin rubbing small circles against his back, but while he tried to take comfort from it he still felt as if he was cuddling a bomb.

"He's- oh right! I need to int'duce myself!" Removing their thumb from their mouth, they held their hand out over Mace's shoulder. "I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi! And some day I'm gonna be a Master!"

The named echoed in the Force, a susurration.

The crèchemaster saved him at that point, coming over to whisk Obi-Wan away for a nap.

"I hope Obi-Wan didn't trouble you too much," Master Tlah said, once everyone had been settled. "He has a very active imagination, even for a human toddler."

"That's quite alright, isn't it, Mace?" Cyslin elbowed him.

Mace bowed. "Yes, of course. It was fine, Master Tlah," he lied.

The two Masters chatted for a bit before he and Cyslin finally left the crèche.

"So," she said, in a tone Mace had come to dread. "Young Obi-Wan seems very interesting."

"That's one way of putting it," he muttered.

"Perhaps this is the Force's way of giving you a hint."

He side-eyed her, wariness prickling between his shoulders. She caught the look, grinning as she ruffled his braids.

"My poor, suspicious Padawan," she teased. "All I'm saying is that if he's still 'made of shatterpoints' by the time he comes of age, he might benefit from having a Master who understands what that means."

He turned to stare at her in open-mouthed horror, making her laugh.

"Absolutely not," he said. "I'm still a Padawan! I'll probably still be a Padawan by then!"

"We'll see, my little General, we'll see."

She continued down the hall, leaving Mace to wallow in a sense of impending doom. A flicker of possibility off to one side, carrying the suggestion of laughter.

"Absolutely not," he repeated, hoping the Force believed him.

[theanimeroom]

BOMBSHELL | TEASER

synopsis: five men, five women, one villa. with hearts and a $50,000 cash prize on the line, who will win the race to find love?

warnings: love island au featuring: tokyo revengers, blue lock, and jujutsu kaisen, lots of kissing, smut, multi characters × reader, lots of mixed pairings, very random challenges, fluff, slow burns, mentions of cheating, drama, angst, plenty of tears, multi fandom, and playlists included!

a/n: content warnings will be posted with each chapter, so be sure to read thoroughly before indulging! i haven't written a full fic in a while, so any beta readers would be appreciated to make sure that the story comes out as best as it could <3 the story will progress through my own discretion as well as voting at the end of each chapter, so make sure to cast your votes to see how the plot will unfold!

BOMBSHELL MASTERLIST

your heartbeat was erratic as you stood in front of the fire pit and your host, eyes scanning the expanse of the large, beautiful villa that you'd been staying at for the past four weeks.

you still remember the first day that you walked in here; a plethora of pretty faces greeting you with happy smiles and intrigued expressions. you reminisced the way that you were almost as nervous as you are now, eyes wide and palms clammy as you tried to ignore the growing anxiety surging through you. you thought about all the experiences you'd had up until this point, all the friends you made, all the things you learned about yourself, and most importantly, him.

out of everything that you had been through in your time at the villa, one thing that made the whole experience worth it was finally meeting the person of your dreams. you came onto the show thinking that it would be something fun, maybe slightly embarrassing, but fun nonetheless. you never thought that you would come out the end with someone that you could call your own, someone who understood you seemingly better than you knew yourself. despite all the fights, all the tears, and everything in between, you managed to come out the other end okay. happy even.

and you weren't the only one.

your gaze fluttered to your best friend, who stood two people away from you, a proud smile crossing your lips even with your nerves consuming you. you weren't the only person who came into the villa with baggage on their shoulders, yet none of you let it stop you. a brief image of you holding her as she cried into your arms flashed through your mind, the sadness and betrayal leaving her a wreck in your makeup room. you'd thought for a moment that it would be the end of your time together, yet you were happy to see her pull through and find happiness in the end.

everyone here had done their absolute best, even with their rights and wrongs, and that thought alone was enough to quell the queasy feeling building up in your stomach.

"alright islanders, it is officially time," the hosts' voice chopped through the nerve-wracking silence with ease, her calm expression giving no hints as to how the end of the night would go. a long sigh escaped your flared nostrils as you closed your eyes, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you forced your emotions to stay in check.

a soft hand turned your attention to your left, air escaping you as you looked up at the man you could truly say you were starting to love. he smirked at you, his own expression laced with playfulness as he tried his best to calm you down. a large grin spread across your face when you felt fingers interlocking with yours, a gentle squeeze giving you all the reassurance you needed to keep yourself grounded for the time being. your breath halted as he leaned down, lips just barely touching the shell of your ear as he whispered to you softly. "we'll be fine, baby."

you pulled away so you could glance into his eyes, a small nod giving him confirmation that you heard what he said. you trust him, probably more than you should.

"it has been a long, hard journey for those of you remaining," your host started, giving a soft smile to each of the islanders standing on the other side of the firepit. "yet, each of you has managed to find a connection here in the villa. although some of you have been through more struggles than others," you could feel the heat rising onto your face when your eyes made direct contact with hers, a snort escaping you as you laughed with the rest of the islanders that you could now call your best friends. "you all have made it to the finals, and are now in the running for the 50,000 dollar prize on the line."

you subconsciously tightened your grip on his hand at the mention of the prize, your body weight shifting from one foot to the other. you wanted to win, wanted that 50,000 so badly so you could finish your schooling without issues. yet, you were content with whatever outcome was prepared for you. in the end, as long as you had him next to you, you would give up the money in a heartbeat.

"since the start of the show, the country has been voting for their favorite love island couple," each word she spoke left your anxiety spiking, your mind begging her to just hurry up and give the results before your heart exploded from suspense. "but now, they have voted for their official love island winner."

you held your breath as you stared at the host, silence taking over the villa as she picked up a small envelope from the couch behind her. you eyed the paper with angst as she peeled it open slowly, reading the results before looking up at the lot of you behind the fire pit.

you watched as her jaw flexed, a breath getting sucked into your mouth as your heart started to beat so fast you thought it would jump out of your chest.

her mouth opened, eyes scanning the crowd before the first words left her lips. "and the winner... of love island is..."

[the-froschamethyst4]

Embrace

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Ghost x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, language, kissing, married couple, children, more use of Simon than Ghost, protective Simon, a worried and caring mother,

𖤐Summary: Y/n and Simon’s daughter Luna is having a hard time being able to see, in school her teacher notices a few signs and has a talk with the parents to discuss about possible glasses for the child

————

————

“Mr. and Mrs. Riley, please come in,” Luna’s 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Anderson has called both Y/n and Simon to the school to talk to them about their daughter.

“Is everything okay with Luna?” Y/n asked, nervously.

“Oh yes, she is doing just fine, grades are amazing but ummm~ I wanted to talk about her writing…”

“What’s wrong with her writing?” Simon asks.

“Oh it’s nothing bad but we usually have our annual spelling bee on Fridays and well. I’ve noticed that her handwriting it’s a bit…odd.”

“How odd?” Simon sounded offended.

“Simon.”

“Oh no I understand how that may sound but I mean it in no disrespect Mr.Riley…well…here this was from Luna’s test last week…I have a hard time grading it because of the poorly written handwriting.”

“I see,” Y/n says examining her daughter’s work.

“I mean I could read it but it was hard for to notice if she spelled it right or not…I’ve also picked up on how she writes…she writes with her face very close to the paper to be able to see…does she have glasses or anything?”

“No, we were never told that she may need them.” Y/n places her hand on Simon’s. “Luna’s last check up with the doctor was just a month ago and he never said anything.”

"Could we just see if she needs them? I don't want her falling behind or struggling later on."

"Of course," Y/n says.

"What the hell does that teacher know," Simon and Y/n walked hand-and-hand down the hall.

"Simon, don't cuss in a school," Y/n warns him.

"Shouldn't we know what's best for Luna?"

"Simon, if she's saying she's worried we have to take that into consideration, I'll take her to the optometrist Saturday and we'll see," Y/n says.

As they walked to the front office they saw Luna, she sat in a dark blue chair looking at a poster on the wall, she squints her eyes like she was trying to see. Y/n's heart clenches in her chest knowing the teacher maybe right.

"Luna," Y/n coos for her daughter. She looks at Y/n and Simon getting off the chair and running to them both.

---------

Luna sat in her car seat humming the song that was playing as Y/n pulled into a parking lot.

"Mama, where are we?"

"We are at the doctors."

"The doctor?" Luna hated the doctor like every child does.

"Just an eye doctor baby," Y/n gets out of the car and comes around unbuckling her daughter. She places her on the ground and Luna grabs Y/n's hand as they walked through the doctors door.

Almost immediately they were greeted by a young lady from behind the desk.

"Hi, I had made an appointment with Doctor Avery."

"Luna Riley?"

"Yes," Y/n says.

"Ok, follow me," the lady gave Y/n some paper work to fill out as Luna saw some glasses. She walks up to them and picked up a small light pink pair.

"Careful with them, baby," Y/n says as Luna just put them back and sat next to her mom.

"Mama, why are we here?"

"Your teacher, Mrs. Anderson says you are having a hard time seeing, she moved you up to the front because you told her that you couldn't see from the back seat."

"Yeah," Luna says, looking over her moms arm and seeing her fill out the paperwork. "I can see mama."

"Luna, how many finger am I holding up?" Luna is holding up 4 fingers.

"5?"

"4, baby."

"I was close."

"Yeah, but you need some baby, who knows maybe you just need them to read and not for distance," Y/n says.

"Luna Riley?" Y/n stood up grabbing her purse and waiting for Luna to take Y/n's hand.

"Luna Riley," Y/n repeats.

"Follow me," the man says with a soft smile. They walk to a back room and Y/n places Luna on a chair with paper on it.

"Okay, Luna have you ever had glasses before?"

"No," Luna says and shakes her head.

"Alright, that's okay," he says. "Mom you had wrote down that she can see far away but it's mainly close up, right?"

"Correct," Y/n says.

Okay, now, Luna I am going to run some tests on you, and ask some questions, okay?"

"Okay." Luna was nervous, she's never been here and it's a different and new environment she's not use to.

"When you look at things close up, do you get headaches?"

"Sometimes," Luna says.

"Are they bad headaches where you close your eyes?" Luna nods.

"Do you get cloudy vision?" Luna shakes her head.

"It's like...fuzzy," Luna says. Doctor Avery kept asking Luna and Y/n questions, and then Doctor Avery had move onto the tests.

Shining a light in her eyes to see her pupils delight, and making her follow the light and also making her seeing if she could see certain letters.

"Can you read the bottom line for me?"

"It's blurry, I can't see it."

"Okay, that's fine. What about this line?"

"Can't see it." The lines kept getting bigger and bigger till Luna was finally able to read the line. "B...F...E...Z...O?"

"Okay, good, here...Luna can you read me the third row?"

"F...E...Z...A? T."

"Okay, okay, good," Doctor Avery then gave her some weird looking glasses. Adjusting them to see if Luna could see clearly with a certain lens over her eyes.

"Okay, Luna tell me if lens A or lens B is better."

"A."

"Okay...lens B or lens C?"

"C."

"Alright, lens C or lens D?"

"C."

The test went on for a little bit as Doctor Avery listened to Luna and what she could and could not see. As Doctor Avery took notes for Luna and what proper lens she will need.

Now it was time for Luna to start her glasses picking. Luna sat at the small wooden table with glasses spread out in front of her. Some bright and colorful and other dark colors.

She picks up the small light pinks one from earlier. She puts them on and looks in the small mirror in front of her and turned behind her looking up at Y/n.

"Mama, what about these?"

"They look so cute on you, baby," she smiles as she bends down, her hand on Luna's back and the other resting on the table helping Luna decide which ones she wanted.

"How many do I get mama?"

"Two pairs."

"I want the pink and yellow," Luna says.

"Alright, we will get the lens in them and by Monday they should be good, would like us to mail them or would you like to come and pick them up?"

"Pick them up should be good," Y/n says as Doctor Avery took the pink and yellow pair to the back.

---------

Simon sat at the kitchen counter with Luna, she was trying to read but had a hard time.

"Luna, baby don't hurt yourself, go take a break," Y/n says as Luna closed to the book, hopping off the stool and going to play with her toys.

"When do those glasses come in?" Simon asked.

"Tomorrow, which reminds me, could you take her? I have a meeting tomorrow."

"Sure, my love," Simon says, walking to Y/n and kissing her lips.

-----------

Simon had picked up Luna after school, and immediately took her back to the eye doctor. Simon held Luna on his hip and walked through the door.

Luna smiles and they walk to the counter.

"Hi," Simon's deep voice booms.

"Oh, hello, sir, how can I help you?"

"I have an order to pick up."

"Yes of course, name?"

"Luna Riley." Simon then places Luna on the counter as the girl gets the glasses and places them on Luna's face.

"Do they need to be readjusted?"

"Yes," Luna says, taking the glasses off.

"Are the lens alright?"

"Yes," Luna then looks at Simon. Simon smiles at his daughter. "I can see you daddy," she says, which just melts Simon's heart to hear that from his daughter.

"I'm glad, baby," Simon says, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. "Thank you."

"Of course, have a good day," the lady smiles as Simon took his daughter back home.

---------

"MAMA! MAMA! LOOK AT MY GLASSES!!" Luna yells excitedly as she runs into the house.

"Oh my baby, can you finally see?"

"Yeah, mama you have a pretty face," Luna places her hands on her moms face making Y/n's heart clench in her chest and she kisses Luna's cheek making her laugh.

----------

Going to school the next day, Luna was nervous what the kids in her class will think. Luna sits in her chair in front of the class and some kids saw her glasses and went up to her to see them.

You'd think these kids have never seen someone with glasses before from how they acted.

"Luna are those new?"

"Can I see them?"

"Can I wear them?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Can you read?"

The questions kept coming and Luna would answer the best she could, none of the kids were being mean, they were just being like curious little kids, asking questions.

"Luna, I see you have glasses now," Mrs. Anderson bent down to Luna's level. She's glad Y/n and Simon took her advice that Luna may need glasses, most parents would have ignored Mrs. Anderson's advice.

"Yeah, I can see now," Luna says with a smile.

The whole day was Luna just being happy she could properly see now, Mrs. Anderson was going over the new spelling words for Friday.

Luna was excited that she could see and when going home, she told Simon about her day and how she was able to finally enjoy quiet reading time at school because she could see.

Luna use to not read during reading time because she couldn't see the words and her face would be shoved deep into the book, but now it was away from her face and she could read the words just fine.

"I'm glad you had a good day, baby."

"Me too, daddy." Luna says with a smile on her face as she ate her snack in the back of Simon's truck and drinking her bug juice (y'all remember those?)

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

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[burrowlvrr]

— HUDDLE OF LOVE, joe burrow.

PAIRING: Joe Burrow 𝔁 Black!Wife!Reader

GENRE: Husband & Dad Joe

SUMMARY: In which — Joe faces an injury that brings his season to an early end, and when he gets home his wife makes sure that he knows his injury doesn't define him.

NOTE: I honestly feel like I ate this one up. But I also didn't really proof-read it, so don't hold me to that lol! This has been sitting in the drafts since Joe was hurt so it's been a min. Please send in some suggestions because writing is so fun to me now. Enjoy!

UNIVERSE: Tenderhearts & Touchdowns!

"Y'know, football is a tough sport, and injuries are unfortunately a part of it. We'll regroup, support each other, and continue to fight through the rest of the season; but, as of now, it's looking like Joe will be out for the rest of the season." Coach Zac Taylor spoke into the microphone, Y/N's head fell into her hands as she exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. That was all Y/N needed to hear, picking up the remote before shutting the television off.

Y/N had to watch her husband suffer an injury during his game against the Ravens, and if it weren't for the huge mess her children were making — they probably would've seen it to. Thankfully, they were being too rowdy to hear anything that was said on the television. She directed Hudson to the playroom so he could distract himself, and she began running Elijah's bath water first.

She tried to distract herself with things to do, knowing the emotions she was feeling were just lesser versions of what her husband would be feeling once he got home. She was now nine months pregnant, and even though she walked with a very noticeable waddle, she got around pretty well. Not to mention, it's way easier to move around when there's only one baby inside you rather than two.

She finished washing Elijah's blonde curls and got him in his pajamas before sending him to the playroom with one job — "Tell your brother I said come on." She instructed, her son playfully giving her a soldier salute before running down their tiled hallway. Within one minute, Hudson stood right behind her as she finished running his warm water. "Can I get some bubbles, mama?"

Y/N smiled at her baby boy, "Yes, baby. You can get some bubbles." She replied, dumping a small cap full of vanilla scented bubbles in his warm water. She let her child play on his own while she sat on top of the toilet seat, watching him in adoration as he continuously pushed a small boat around in his water. "Okay, bub. It's time to get washed up now.

Hudson had no complaints, doing what he could on his own before asking his mother for help. She slowly got to her knees in front of the tub, being careful when she dumped cup fulls of water onto her son's head. Once she had his hair washed, she got him out and got him dressed in his matching pajamas with Elijah. Both of them being covered in orange and black tiger stripes, a large number nine on the back, along with the lettering "Baby Burrow".

"Can you tell bubba it's time to brush our teeth?" She asked Hudson, finishing up rubbing in the dollop of child's face lotion into his skin. Hudson nodded with a toothy, but pretty but toothless, smile before he took off running to grab his twin brother.

She grabbed their step stools from under the cabinet and got their tooth brushes ready, handing them each their own as they stepped up to the sink. "Hum your ABC's, remember? Mommy is in your room, yell if you need me!" She chirped, smiling at her boys in the mirror as they moved in an identical way.

She exited the bathroom, entering their shared bedroom and untucking their sheets for them. She clicked their LED light remote a few times, landing on the color blue for the evening. She always set an hour long timer; so that by the time the boys are knocked out, so were the lights.

She waddled back into the bathroom, seeing her twins already washing their hands as they knew they were supposed to. Her boys were already so smart and they were only three, she couldn't wait to see how intelligent they were in their classrooms. "All done!" Elijah turned around and exaggeratedly jumped from the step stool, of course Hudson mirrored his actions and did a hop of his own.

"It's time for bed, my loves." She smiled warmly, seeing their faces light up as they already knew what she was about to ask. "Who can get in their bed quicker?!" She asked, and both of her boys jumped off of their back leg and sprinted towards their shared bedroom. She giggled, turning off the bathroom lights before running a hand through her curly hair.

"Who won?" She asked, smirking at her boys as she entered their blue toned bedroom. Instant chatter filled the room, fingers pointed at themselves yelping about how they won, before turning their hand and accusing the other of being a cheater. Y/N couldn't help but laugh, no matter how many times they do this, it's always the exact same. "We can have a rematch tomorrow night, alright? We'll let daddy be the judge."

Both of them liked that idea, loving anything that had to do with their father. Y/N's stomach twisted at the reminder of Joe's injury, knowing he was no more than an hour and a half away now. With forehead, cheek and tummy kisses from both of the boys, Y/N sat on the floor between their beds and began reading their favorite bedtime stories.

As the stories unfolded, Y/N could feel the gentle kicks of her unborn baby, seemingly enjoying the bedtime tales. The connection between the growing family was palpable in these intimate moments.

The room, once echoing with lively laughter, now settled into a serene atmosphere as Y/N stood from her spot on the floor. "Sweet dreams, my little stars," she whispered, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads. The twins, eyelids growing heavy, whispered their sleepy goodnights. Y/N, with a content smile, left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Y/N decided to take a quick shower, using the bathroom down the hall from her boys' bedroom just in case they woke up needing her comfort. She stepped out, washing her face and brushing her teeth, making her way to her and Joe's bedroom to put some clothes on. She always found herself freezing in her sleep, so she decided on a figure-hugging black long sleeve and a pair of customized sweatpants, the choice of lettering being "BURROW" right on her bottom.

She replaced her contacts with glasses and her tall socks with slippers, she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail before taking a seat at her marble island. She had tons of lesson plans to catch up on, doing them before the birth of her baby seemed like a good plan — because obviously, once the baby was out and a little bit older, she would have to return to work. She was an elementary school teacher, having a love for all children, no matter if they were her's biologically or just because it was her job. From a young age, she knew that she wanted to have an impact on people's lives, what better time to start than when their brain is still freshly developing?

★

Y/N had just closed her MacBook with a sigh when she heard the lock on the front door beep, indicating that someone with the code had just unlocked it. She chose to stay seated, not wanting to immediately bombard Joe once he got through the door. She continued to organize her stack of lesson plans, going on as if she didn't hear the shuffling at the front door.

It was unusually quiet to Joe, he furrowed his eyebrows as he turned his head. He listened for some sort of greeting, his eyes scanned the view of the house that he had. Nothing. No pattering of his children's feet, no scolding from his wife about their running, no 60's record spinning from the living room. He finally called out, "Hello?"

Y/N took that as her cue, sliding off of the barstool before waddling into the living room. She watched as Joe's expression visually relaxed, his shoulders now slouched as she smiled at him. "Hi, handsome. I missed you." She said happily, taking her hands and placing one on each of his rosy cheeks.

Joe wrapped his good arm around her waist. "I missed you more." He replied, looking into her eyes as she rubbed circles under his puffy eyes. Y/N helped him remove the duffle bag from his shoulder, carefully placing it on the bench near the door. Joe slid his shoes off, using his one good arm to lean on the wall as a way to steady himself. Y/N watched from a few feet away, waiting for Joe to break the silence himself.

That was when she noticed the anxious look on his face, he walked up to her and she looked up at him in concern. "Are they sleepin' already?" He asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he searched his wife's eyes. She nodded.

"Yeah, they've been out for a little over an hour now." She reassured him, knowing why he was feeling anxious and worrying about his children. He had always expressed his fears of parenthood and how his career could possibly affect that. Tonight would be one of those nights, luckily, Y/N knew that she could reassure him that the boys were not watching when he suffered his injury.

"You wanna go see 'em?" She asked, placing a hand on his arm lovingly. Joe nodded, blinking rapidly as he pulled his beanie from his head.

She reached out for his hand, he took it and tried to give her a soft smile. There was an understanding of what Joe was feeling, so they didn't need to say a thing as they ventured off upstairs. They stopped at the boys' bedroom door, and Y/N twisted the door knob as quietly as she could. She opened the door just enough that Joe could poke his head in and see his sleeping twins, Y/N followed his actions and a warm smile grew on her face. A regular occurrence in their room was Elijah getting out of his bed, and finding his way to Hudson's so they could sleep together. No matter how many times Y/N and Joe exited their room with them in separate beds, they would always come back to them sharing one.

Joe's chest heaved slower than before, letting Y/N know he had calmed down even if it wasn't much. "They're alright, honey," She spoke softly, using a warm tone that reassured Joe easily. It was no secret that toddlers are a lot to handle, but Y/N was a strong woman and knew how to work with her children. Sure, they were a handful today — but she would much rather chase them around the house, than try to wrangle them in the football stands.

Her round belly brushed against Joe's flat one as they stood close to each other, his good arm around her waist and her hand on his chest. "Absolutely pooped from all the hell they raised today." She continued, earning a soft chuckle from her husband, but another wave of silence quickly washed over them.

A million thoughts swirled around in Joe's head, his eyes darting from each of his son's faces. He inhaled deeply, then turned to face his wife with tired eyes. "Did they se—" He started, his voice cracking before he could even finish his question. But there was no need, Y/N knew him like the back of her hand, and she already knew what he was about to ask.

She shook her head, moving her hand from his chest to run through his blonde hair. "No, they were being noisy with all their toys when it happened. And I got them ready for bed right after." She explained, her eyes searching his for some sort of response. All he could do was nod, nibbling on his lip as she looked at the walls around them instead of his wife. "Why don't we go lay down, huh?"

They traveled down the hall to their bedroom hand in hand, the low chatter of their bedroom tv was the only noise they heard as they entered. The news reports dimly lit their bedroom, casting shadows on the walls as it bounced from frame to frame. Y/N didn't want to poke the bear just yet, so she decided to let Joe do his own thing while she freshened up before bed. Once she turned the faucet off, she heard a faint sniffle from their connected bedroom. She quickly wiped her hands on her sweats before exiting the bathroom.

She came out to find Joe standing in their tall mirror. He used his sleeve to wipe his nose, noticing that Y/N had came out of the bathroom. The television mentioned his name for what seemed like the millionth time that night, Joe's eyes snapped to the floor hearing it. Y/N gave a sympathetic frown, watching as he took a seat at the foot of their bed. She sat down next to him, placing a hand on his thigh.

"What did they say?" She asked, looking toward him but he was focused on the television in front of them. He brought his good arm up, rubbing his ear as he always did when he was upset. He could the frustration building up once more, he sucked in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. "A torn ligament." He replied.

Y/N nodded her head, "I'm not gonna tell you you're gonna bounce back because I'm sure you've heard that plenty of times today." She began, "We both know you will. You'll just have another surgery to repair it."

"Another surgery." He repeated, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. He still hadn't faced her, feeling too defeated to look her in the eyes now.

"You'll play again." She assured him, her hand coming up to play with the hairs at the back of his neck. "I know you will." Joe sat with his shoulder's slumped, the loss of the game resting heavily on them.

"I know." He sighed, moving his gaze to stare at the floorboards now. Y/N felt as if nothing she would say could help him feel any better, so she chose to let the silence consume them once more. The low chatter of the television continued, it was beginning to annoy her with how many times they'd brought up Joe's injury. The game has been over for hours now, we get it. With that, she got up from her spot beside Joe and turned the television off completely. The sudden movement made Joe look up, from the ground, watching as his wife waddled back to her spot beside him.

The silence was broken by Joe this time, "I feel like I'm being dramatic." He spoke up, causing Y/N to turn to him with wide eyes. "Honey, you just faced a season ending injury — and you think you're being dramatic?" She asked him, he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"I think you've got a hell of a good reason to be "dramatic"." She used her two fingers to quote the word, earning a very dry chuckle from her husband. She dropped her hands to her lap, cocking her head to the side as she looked at him in concern.

He wiped his nose with his sleeve again, forcing a smile and another chuckle before he spoke. "I just hate how long it takes to recover from these things. It's takes a lot of work." He confessed, making Y/N feel like their communication was finally working.

"Yeah, I get that." She began, "But you're strong and you're dedicated to this sport. It'll come so easily to you after your surgery." A small smile grew on his face, but he began to shake his head once more.

"It just really sucks." He said bluntly, "The only thing I'm good at, I can't even do again for ten more months." He huffed, his words spinning a wheel in Y/N's mind. Her lips turned into a frown as he talked down on himself.

"Don't talk like that, Joe." She said, "Football is not the only thing you're good at." Her wedding ring shined as she reached for his right cheek, turning his head to face her. "You're an amazing daddy and an amazing husband. A torn ligament isn't stopping that at all. Nothing is ever going to stop that, you hear me?" She searched his face for an answer, he closed his eyes for a moment as he began to feel them burning with tears.

Joe had always struggled to be vulnerable, but Y/N always found a way to make him crawl out of that shell. He couldn't thank her enough for that. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to, either. "I hear you." He responded, his voice cracking as he spoke. He bit his bottom lip, and nodded his head as he dropped his gaze to his fingers. A silence fell over them once again, but this time it was comfortable.

"We should really get to bed." Joe said, wiping his face with his hoodie sleeve as he stood up from the bed. Y/N's gaze followed him as he held out his hands for her, her eyes grazing over his new cast and sling. He followed her gaze and, in an embarrassed manner, dropped his left arm. She held on tight as she struggled to lift two people's body weight off the edge of the bed, her arms absentmindedly wrapping around Joe's neck. He exhaled a deep breath at her touch, and she let out a breath of relief due to all the moving she'd just done.

"We love you either way." She whispered, grabbing Joe's left hand and placing it on her round stomach. "All of us. We love you, and thats with or without football." Joe let the tears fall from his eyes, and let his hand rest in his wife's stomach as she moved her hand to wipe his falling tears.

He rubbed her stomach in a loving manner, his shoulders bouncing with each quiet sob that he choked out. "Yeah, I know." He barely got out the three words, Y/N kept wiping the tears and rubbing his arms up and down.

"You're strong and you will overcome this. You always recover in a way that shows how truly remarkable you are, Joe. That's never gonna change. No matter how large the obstacle." She grabbed a hold of both of his forearms lightly, being mindful of his injury, making him look her in the eyes. "You're capable of recovering from this set back. And you have nothing to prove to anybody except those boys in there — but they already know their daddy is strong."

"I love you." He said, closing his eyes with a sigh as she placed a loving kiss on his cheek. "I love you more, baby." She then placed a kiss on his lips, pulling him in for one more tight embrace before bed. He walked her to her side of the bed, helping her get under the sheets, before making his way to his side and climbing in right beside her.

Although he let a few more tears fall while lying down, he couldn't help but feel as if he was stronger already. She fell asleep before him, but continued to whisper affirmations and play with his blonde locks in her sleep. She held him to her chest, and his arms wrapped around her very large bump. He looked up at her in admiration, she never failed to amaze him with how patient she was.