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#whos that baby dear on the lawn there?
excitementshewrote · 6 months
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beefrobeefcal · 7 months
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the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller
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Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833
Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,
Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.
and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.
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Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.
And you were utterly in love with him.
Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.
“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.
You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.
As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.
*****
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.
You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“
“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.
As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.
“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.
“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.
You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.
“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.
“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.
“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.
You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.
“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.
You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.
His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…
“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”
Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.
“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.
Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.
His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.
“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”
The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.
“Joel…”
Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.
“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”
You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.
“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.
“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.
His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.
“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.
“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.
He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.
“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.
You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.
His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.
“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”
His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.
Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.
The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.
He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.
A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“
You scoffed and he shushed you.
“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”
You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”
“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”
*****
You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.
The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.
Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.
“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.
While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.
Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.
His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”
His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in.  What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.
A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.
“Make me.”
“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.
A flutter in your lower belly. More.
“Come on. Make me.”
“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.
An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!
“Fuck me yourself, coward.”
He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.
“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”
You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.
You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.
“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.
When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.
You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.
Jesus. Oh fuck.
Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.
“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.
His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”
You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.
Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.
“’S fucked up … you like this?”
“uh…. Uh-huh…”
“You’re a lunatic…”
You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”
He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”
You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.
“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”
“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”
His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”
His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.
Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.
You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.
You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.
Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.
“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.
His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.
But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.
“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”
You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.
“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”
“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.
“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.
The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.
“That’s it… Jesus Murphy…  not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”
Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…
Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.
He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.
“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”
You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”
Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.
He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”
You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.
He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.
Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”
Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.
“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”
He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.
“What?”
His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.
“ShagMaster 9000.”
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TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled
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princeoftheeternalbog · 5 months
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Nicknames/petnames op characters like to call you PART TWO
Also suggestive warning for Ace, Marco, Izou
I don't care if law's is ooc btw he deserves to be sickly cute sometimes and yk we kinda saw how he can be when he loves something with that whole sora thing in wano so yeah I'm saying he can be affectionate as a treat.
Anyways here's like all the faves who are not strawhats:
Ace
Baby, sweetheart, pretty thing. Always says them in either the most flirty tone imaginable or the softest. Also he's like flirting with you 24/7 it's so bad but he jist can't turn it off around you like he's so down bad. 100% says heinous filthy shit but tacks on a cute nickname at the end to try and make it sound less intense. It does not work.
OBSESSED with you calling him love or my man and finds it ridiculously attractive. The first time it happened he set his bed on fire by accident and you both got lectured by pops :(. But seriously he just loves any and all verbal affirmation so naturally he adores nicknames. Doesn't get shy at all though, if anything reciprocating his chaotic behaviour makes it 10x worse.
Marco
Love/my love. Sweet and simple and he likes how clear it is to other people. He uses it a ridiculous amount though to be honest like you hear it more than your own name, it's to the point where if he says your name people on the ship don't know who he's talking about😭. Oh and he uses baby when he wants to tease you, like he drops his voice real low, leans really close into your space and speaks right next to your ear. Bit of a bastard tbh.
He blushes easily but doesn't shy away, in fact being called a nickname in return really makes him feel confident and puts him in the mood for affection. Though sometimes the nicknames make him feel...too affectionate. One time you called him pretty bird as a joke and he just sorta sat there, face getting gradually redder until you leaned towards him out of concern, at which point he promptly yanked you onto his lap and started what was one of your most intense make outs to date. Yk, casual things.
Thatch
Cutie, sweet thing, pretty thing. So so gentle with you and it reflects in how he speaks to you as well, even if he's upset or angry he still calls you the sweetest things because you're so precious to him. Though he's also a menace, if he finds out you like a specific petname then he starts discretely whispering it in your ear whenever he passes you to wind you up. Literally he doesn't care if you're having a serious conversation, he'll just slide in behind you and drop his voice to sound like a nice gravelly tone and purposefully make sure to exhale on the back of your ear to make you shiver.
Oh but he can't handle if you do it back, no this man folds like a lawn chair the second you start calling him anything other than his name.
Izou
Darling, dear, lovely, blossom. So casually smooth its unbelievable, also he starts calling you them before you get together. Like after a certain point of friendship and flirting, he just starts doing and saying the most romantic shit(Definitely thinks you're together before you actually are) and the crew are very confused and you're very confused but as if you're gonna complain yk.
This man gets so flustered when you use nicknames with him because it's not behaviour he's used to. Obviously he's been a pirate for a long time but he's actually very reserved and rarely dates so having someone who genuinely cares about him calling something sweet makes him blush so hard and you use that to your fully advantage. He gets revenge later though don't worry.
Law
Love, lovely, pretty, honey, every flowery pet name you can think of. He's so soft with you. He can't help how sickly affectionate he feels around you and it results in him just calling you all sorts of sweet words. He won't do it in public if he thinks you'll be put in danger or if he doesn't feel comfortable but like in front of the crew and strawhats and stuff he doesn't give a fuck. He'll just come up behind you while you're in the middle of a conversation, hand sliding down your lower back, and say sumthin like "are you okay my love?"
Blushes to high heaven if you call him something cute back, he just melts like butter. If he's in a bad mood or like in an argument or something you only have to come up and say hi love and he's all :///))
Kidd
Babe to the public. My love, gorgeous, pretty baby when you're alone. It's not really that he doesn't want to call you those things in public, he just doesn't want enemies to understand how important you are to him but also he doesn't want to keep your relationship a secret because he's obsessed with you and wants to brag about being yours.
Makes him really cocky if you use petnames with him. Like he'll flush but get so overconfident the second you say love or baby or anything of the sort. He doesn't care where you are either, he's just hauling you into his space immediately so he kiss the fuck out of you.
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ash5monster01 · 2 months
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i saw you wrote for randall pink floyd and i RAN to your inbox
could you please write a best friends to lovers confession with our dear boy randall? and i’m not sure if you do smut or anything like that but if it could be just slightly smutty that would be wonderful!!
Always You
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Pairing: Randall ‘Pink’ Floyd x FemReader
Warnings: 18+, language, drug/alcohol use, jealousy, emotional struggle, foreplay, implied smut, fluff, no use of y/n
Summary: You’re in love with your best friend and on accident he finds out.
word count: 2.9k
Masterlist
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You wait in the dark, eyes cast out the window, watching for your best friend who would appear any second. You both had done this every Friday night for the entire year, it was a system by now. Just in time you see headlights flash out, the sound of a rumbling engine cutting off, as his El Camino rolls to a stop in front of your house. You wait a beat to ensure your parents didn’t hear before you scurry out the front door and across the dark lawn to your best friend.
“That’s never gets old” he says as you jump inside. He’s shaking his head in amusement and you just roll your eyes at him as he starts up the engine and drives away before anyone can spot you.
“It’s getting pretty old for me, I’m lucky I haven’t been caught yet” you tell him as you pull some lip gloss from your bag and drop it to the ground. Pink’s eyes glance over at you as you pull the mirror down and apply the product. He tries to ignore the way his throat dries as he watches your plump lips pucker at your reflection.
“You won’t get caught, our system works pretty well” he tells you, hands flexing over the steering wheel as he drives to the Emporium since Pickford just had to get caught and cancel his party.
“C’mon Rand, I’m so over sneaking out. I wish we didn’t get too big for sleepovers” you pout, arms crossing over your chest, and lifting your breasts in the process. The series of actions and words has Pink shifting in his seat, trying to hide the way his pants have tightened. If only you realized what you had just suggested.
“Sorry sweetheart, but if you still aren’t gonna admit to your parents that you party then you’re stuck with our plan” he tells you and you finally eye him up and down, the nice purple shirt on his form and the tight cream bell bottoms.
“Who you all dolled up for? Simone?” you ask as you wiggle your eyebrows, your teasing and suggestive tone making him roll his eyes at you. You ignore the jealousy that burns in your stomach, the desire to be the one he actually dresses up for. Little did you know, it was you.
“No not Simone, we’re just talking” he says and it sounds unsure, like that might even be the wrong choice of words for the little blonde girl he had somehow obtained. In fact he had quite forgotten about her until now, not even remembering he said they’d meet up at some point tonight.
“Either way you look handsome Pinky, I’d swoon” you tease him, digging in your bag for the joint you had stashed away earlier. Your words are true but he doesn’t know that.
“Please don’t call me Pinky. I prefer Rand or Randall even over that” he begs, you being the only one to still call him by his given name. Comes with the territory of being best friends though. You knew him long before he was ever Pink.
“Oh little Pinky is grumpy” you tease in a sing song baby voice, poking his shoulder and scooting closer along the front seat. He chuckles, knowing you’re only messing.
“You gonna light that joint or what?” he finally asks and you giggle, hands retrieving your lighter before flicking the ignite. Pink watches as you wrap your glossed lips around the end and light it in the dark of the car. The flame illuminates your face bright enough to remind him how gorgeous you truly are.
“Whoo, that’s a strong one” you say, voice thick with the smoke and Pink smiles as you pass it to him and he puts his lips where yours just were. He’s certain this is the closest he’ll ever get to kissing you.
You pass the joint back and forth the whole ride to the Emporium, each pass getting you closer and closer to him on the seat. By the time there’s only a roach to share between you, your thigh is pressed tightly against his own. His whole body buzzes with the sensation of you against him and the weed. He’s actually disappointed to see the Emporium come into view while he pulls into a parking spot.
“You want a beer?” you ask, head turning to face him and the closeness doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. Pink takes a moment to study the deep color of your eyes before nodding.
“Sure, let me give you some cash” he says, digging in his pocket and you finally spot the remnants of your sparkly lip gloss stuck to the corner of his lip from your shared joint. As he frees some bills you giggle and use your thumb to brush it away, causing him to freeze.
“I guess I should’ve waited to apply my lipgloss after we shared a joint, wouldn’t want our friends thinking we were hiding something” you say, chest tightening and wishing he would admit his feelings for you. Tell you he didn’t care what his friends thought and kiss you for real. You wished you never dared to cross the best friend line.
“Maybe I just decided to start wearing makeup” Pink finally says when he realizes it’s taken him too long to answer. Why could he be confident around every girl but you?
“I’ll go grab some drinks, don’t start a game of pool without me” you tell him and in a flash you’ve slid out the car, waving and smiling at your friends who cheer and greet you. Pink waits till you’re inside the liquor store before taking a few moments to collect himself.
“Hey man” Wooderson is the first to greet him as he steps out the car. Pink smiles, greeting him with a handshake before leaning up against the wall beside him.
“Man that girl of yours has gotten real cute” he grins, eyes still cast in the direction of the liquor store where you had just disappeared into.
“Not my girl” Pink mutters despite everything in him going against it and the older guy snorts, foot wedging up to press against the wall behind him.
“Still cute” he says and Pink chuckles, hoping it’ll mask the jealousy he carries over other men being into you. He knew Wooderson would leave you alone, he wouldn’t dare mess with a girl he knew Pink cared for so much. It still didn’t change the fact it made his chest burn.
As if on cue you exit the liquor store, smile wide on your face, as you carry two cases of his favorite beer. Pink’s stomach flutters at the sight, watching as you cross the parking lot and dump both cases in the truck bed of his car. You’re so gorgeous, and you knew him better than anyone, a girl hand crafted for him. If only he wasn’t so afraid of losing you.
“Thirsty?” you ask, hands freeing two of the beers and holding them up for him to see.
“You got one for me doll?” Wooderson calls out and you laugh, shaking your head at your overly flirty friend.
“Depends on how much Pink likes you?” you call back and Wooderson pouts at Pink almost instantly. Your bestfriend just sighs and gives you a nod which makes you grab a third beer before approaching them both.
“Thanks” Pink says, arm coming to wrap around your shoulders and pull you against him. You don’t fight it, leaning into his embrace as you open your beer and take a swig.
“Can’t believe we’re officially seniors” you say as another load of classmates pull into the parking lot and hop out. Pink smiles, knowing all day he felt like a King about everything but one. You.
“Enjoy it” is all Wooderson says and you both nod, accepting these words and knowing there was only one shot to embrace this moment as it was. That’s why in your head, you’re certain you’ll tell Pink how you feel before the end of summer, hell maybe even tonight.
As always the chaos of the night ensues and without fail you manage to still find a way to party. You’re unsure how much alcohol you’ve consumed, you just know it was a lot. At least enough to give you the small buzz you were currently sporting. It was the very reason Pink had laid down a blanket in the bed of his truck and had laid you in it with the promise of returning. He holds up his end of the bargain when the suspension of the Camino dips down with him lifting his body weight into it.
“Sorry, had to say goodbye to Simone” and maybe it’s the alcohol, you want to blame the alcohol, when your face scrunches up with something he can only read as disgust.
“If you wanted to take her home you should’ve just left me with Cynthia, I can handle myself” you say, voice clipped and eyes cast on the bright stars of the Texas sky above you.
“I’m not leaving you, besides I didn’t want to take her home” Pink assures you, heart racing at the idea of you being jealous. If it wasn’t for the alcohol in your system he’d swear it was.
“Yeah okay” you snort, shaking your head and trying to ignore the cool night air on your skin. The sounds of engines starting and rumbling away surrounding you both.
“What’s your deal? I thought you liked Simone?” Pink finally asked, rolling to his side to face you and you smile despite not being amused.
“I do like Simone I just don’t like her for you” you say, a bit exasperated and a little tired of keeping all these feelings at bay when they’re begging to burst out of you.
“Why? Why not? She’s a good girl, just like the rest” he argues back and the fire ignites inside you, annoyance and anger bubbling over.
“Because Rand, because no one is good enough for you. No one would ever deserve to love you, not even me-” your mouth snaps shut, words moving faster than your mind and it reels as you try to comprehend what you just said to him. What you may of just admitted.
“What?” Pink says, blinking as the words you just said sinks in. You instantly start shaking your head, panic spreading over your entire body, realizing your plan came true without being planned.
“I didn’t mean, I- I’m sorry-” you blubber, words suddenly not coming to you or forming, much different than how they had just spit out of you. Yet it doesn’t matter because Pink’s hand is falling on your cheek, holding your head to face him. His expression is unreadable and the panic makes you want to flee.
“You deserve me, just as much as I deserve you” he says slowly, wanting you to understand what he’s saying. Your eyes are wide and when you can’t get your mouth to open and say anything, he’s leaning forwarding and pressing it against his own.
You gasp lightly but he keeps you close until you realize this is really happening. Slowly you kiss him back, realizing in this very moment you’re actually kissing your best friend. The excitement hits you all at once and you grasp at his shoulders tightly, kissing him feverishly. When Pink notices your eagerness he glides his tongue along the seam of your lips and you let him in without hesitation. The second his tongue curls against your own you find yourself climbing into his lap, searching for a better and more controlled angle to make out with him.
“Careful baby” he warns against your lips as you grind down on him. Yet the confidence from the alcohol and the desire for him is controlling your actions.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you muse as his lips travel along your jaw and down your neck. He smiles against your skin, grunting when you grind down on him again.
When his lips find that sensitive spot on your neck you trail your hand down his chest, fingers grazing his bare skin in his shirt that had been further and further unbuttoned throughout the entirety of the night. When you reach his abdomen his stomach jumps and finally he pulls away from you.
“Wait, is it true? You really have feelings for me?” he asks, wanting to make sure he hadn’t misinterpreted or worse taken advantage of you in your tipsy state. You smile as you admire the sparkly lip gloss that now covers his own lips shamelessly.
“Yes Pinky, for a long time. I just never had the courage to say anything” you tell him, hands stabilizing yourself on his chest. He grins wide, hands tightening on your hips and the action makes you grind against him again.
“Me too” he admits, a soft blush covering his cheeks and you don’t fight the urge to lean down and kiss each of them. Yet the new angle has you able to feel his length perfectly in those tight pants of his. You use the opportunity to kiss his lips as you grind against him again. His hands tighten somehow even more on your hips and you love the idea of being able to see where his hands had been tomorrow.
“I didn’t know you liked me this much Pinky” you say using the embarrassing nickname he hadn’t felt the need to correct with you above him like this.
“You have no idea” he mutters a little breathless and a little nervous. This is all he ever wanted and now he didn’t possibly want to screw it up.
“How have I never noticed?” you muttered, not looking particularly for an answer, before kissing him deeply again. You shiver when his hands push up your shirt, large palms gliding against your bare back. When he reaches the clasp of your bra you grind against him, indicating he had full permission to take it off. He doesn’t waste a second, the material loosening and slipping down your shoulders.
Realizing you don’t want to get caught without your shirt you slip the straps off your arms and pull it out of under your clothes. Pink watches as you toss it up by his head and he gulps, his hands moving from your back and under the fabric that laid over your chest. Your lips meet his own again when he finally grasps your breasts and you realize fairly quickly you need to get him out of his pants as soon as possible.
Pink lets out a small squeak, your mouth muffling the noise, as your hands reach down and start fumbling with the button of his pants. He grips tighter at your breasts and it makes you whimper against him. You’re both so lost in each other you can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ever admit your feelings for him. As soon as you slide his zipper down you feel his length twitch against your palm and you grin against his lips. Slowly you slide your fingers against him, dipping into the pants you hoped to get off of him.
“Hey we’re going to the 50 yard line to smoke, you guys in?!” Don’s voice bellows out, hands slapping against the bed of the truck. You jump off of Pink quickly, hand sliding out of his pants, as Don rounds the back of the vehicle. A sly grin cracks along his face as he notices the heavy breaths Pink lets out and the open fly of his pants. When he spots you with glazed eyes and swollen lips it only confirms his suspicions.
“Yeah we’ll come” Pink answers, eyes glancing at you and back at his buddy. Don chuckles, a finger pointing between you both.
“Best friends my ass” is all he says before he starts walking back the way he came, probably in search of Shavonne.
“We’ll meet you there” Pink calls out and Don waves a hand, amusement covered his features as he stalks away from you both.
“You think he knows?” you ask in a joking tone and Pink laughs as he falls back against the bed of the truck, eyes cast to the sky.
“Yeah, he knows” Pink confirms before turning his head and looking you in the eye. All he can think about is how beautiful you are, eyes full of adoration knowing he finally has you the way he has always wanted you.
“Guess we better go to the 50 yard line” you say softly, hand coming to brush some of the long hair out of his face and Pink smiles as he turns his head and kisses your palm.
“I guess so, sleepover at mine after?” he asks, a smile he struggles to hold back tugging on his face. You laugh as you remember the conversation from earlier and slowly nod.
“Yeah, I like that plan” you agree and he grins widely before capturing your lips in a kiss then hopping out the back of the truck. He holds a hand out for you to join him and you don’t hesitate in taking it as you both slide into the car.
In this moment, your life was everything you wanted it to be.
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suraemoon · 4 months
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Dad!John Egan Headcanons
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🧡: Here are a bunch of thoughts about Bucky as a father (Specifically to a bunch of girls because this man gives me major girl dad vibes and that’s what I was most inspired by) My inbox is always open for requests.
🧸 Inaccuracy warning: I mention pregnancy tests and a quick google search has informed me that pregnancy tests did not exist in the forties. I’m not gonna make the reader pee on a frog (yes that was an actual method back then) so I’m simply gonna keep that part in. Please forgive me in advance.
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You, the newly wedded wife of Major John Egan, found out you were pregnant on a warm July evening
After a few days of extreme nausea and bedridden reflection over the wild memories of a thoroughly exciting and all fulfilling honeymoon, you had rising suspicions over the cause of your ailment
A concerned John Egan simply could not stop himself pacing around any room you were in, always on standby for when his wife might need him
Bucky did not want to automatically assume you were pregnant
Despite having to wake up frequently throughout the night to become a designated hair holder while you vomited into the nearest toilet
For your husband simply didn’t know if it’d be considered rude or not to assume
So he rode out the waves with his dear wife, whispering reassurance while all the food emptied her stomach, offering a firm arm to hold onto when she stood up too fast and needed to be steadied
Finally, you decided to take a test; wanting to give all these internal questions a confirmed answer
There was also a desire to put your poor husband at ease by uttering the not-at-all-anxiety inducing words, “Don’t worry, Bucky. I’m not dying. I’m pregnant.”
And pregnant you were
Shaky hands held a positive pregnancy test on a scene that, even decades later, you can never fail to recall; a few moments of silence ensued as you stared at the test, making sure that your eyes were not deceiving you and the world indeed wasn’t playing on of it’s trick.
Meanwhile, Bucky was keeping himself occupied by walking back and forth on the stone path that ran through the front lawn
His hands were in his pockets, waiting patiently for you to finish your business and come out of the house
The two of you take daily walks, a designated time for watching the glistening sun start to rest in it’s cozy blanket that is the night sky
Strolling down the concrete sidewalk hand-in-hand while calmly reflecting on the events of each day
Your mind was thoroughly racing in that bathroom, filled with a gallery of intense thoughts
But the moment you exited through the front door and ran into Bucky’s arms, clutching a pregnancy test close to your chest, all words seemed to escape you
You nervously handed it to him and watched how his eyes widened at the sight of the two lines, his signature smile tugged at his lips until he was grinning ear to ear
“This is real, baby? You ain’t joking with me? Oh my God…”
Immediately, he picked you up and span you around in excitement as you giggled in his arms
Once he put you, the sunshine of his life, back down on the ground after your miniature orbit, his soft lips made themselves a home and kissed all over your darling face
“Ever since I met you, you’ve made me the happiest, luckiest man in the world.”
As long as he has you, he has everything he ever needs
And now you two get to bring a new blessing into the world
A perfect little darling who is half you, half Bucky
Created by the fruition of pure love and raised by a couple who possess hearts full of adoration from the moment they discover the existence of their creation
Every evening from that day forward, he covers every square inch of your growing belly with kisses
He whispers to his little one between pecks with his lips against the soft skin of your belly
“We’ve got a little ball player in there, hm? Gonna be a Yankees infielder one day?”
He’d lay down beneath you with his head against your belly
Purposefully trying to make you laugh, just to see the funny but beautiful jiggle of your stomach
Praising you for how amazing you are, just to see your pretty face light up at all of the compliments
“You’re growing a whole life in ya. Nothing I’ve done is as brave as that. The strongest girl I know, my girl. Mine, mine, mine.”
Bucky is such a girl dad and all of his girls are daddy’s girls through and through
You give birth to your first little one and she’s so tiny swaddled in his arms, the sun shining softly through the hospital room windows.
A little while later, newly acquainted father and daughter are in complete bliss while relaxing in the lounge chair at the corner of the hospital room
He’s shirtless and she’s laying on his chest
He’s adoringly whispering to her but it’s in an octave so soft that only him and his little girl can hear. The most beautiful little secrets that will stay between them forever.
You get a lot of attention post birth too. He’s thanking you, telling you how strong you are, how you’ve changed his life forever, you’re the love of his life, he loves you, he loves you, oh how he loves you.
The second baby comes not too soon after the first and it’s another little girl
Baby number three is another girl
The fourth little darling has plenty of bright eyed big sisters waiting for her at home
There’s a drawer full of hand-me-downs but there is also an array of brand new stuff because every baby is her own person. They all get the same amount of preparation, dedication, love, and care.
Did he used to dream about having a son? Sure.
But girls make amazing little baseball players
And dads make amazing fairy princesses
Bucky becomes very accustomed to tea parties, glitter, sparkles, and having his nails sloppy painted
Pigmented eyeshadow used as blush, contour, and foundation all in one
Some days he gets weird looks when walking around in public, unaware to the fact that his nails are still messily painted in various shades of purple from last night’s beauty salon shenanigans
Handing the cashier some money at the grocery store (his wallet has a photo of all of his girls) and for some reason the rest of the line has gone quiet. “What? I’m not the first person to pay for food here, right?”
Little does he know that him and the lady standing line behind him have matching manicures
You help him rub it off with some rubbing alcohol later that day, knowing it is most likely going to be replaced in a bright, sparkling new color sooner than later
Once you two start having children, it’s hard to get a night alone
As the moonlight hours go on, the bed indents frequently throughout the AMs as more and more little Egans climb into you and Bucky’s bed
Blankies and stuffed animals grasped in their little hands as they gravitate towards the body of warmth that is their peacefully sleeping father
The next morning, when the sun’s warm light starts to flood through the windows and the birds outside have started to chirp a morning’s greeting into the blue sky, you wake up to a family reunion
There is a little girl snoring with her head on Bucky’s chest, they have matching pair of parted mouths and a father-daughter set of similar sounding snores
A dark haired toddler is curled like a kitten at the foot of the bed, her white nightgown resembling the soft baby blanket she was first swaddled in as a newborn all those years ago
You can hardly sit up to see where the rest of the Egans have ended up because John has a strong arm around your waist, he’s been petting your silk nightie ever since you first put it on last evening
As you look at the clock on the nightstand to see what time it is, for some reason there is a three year old curled up on the floor, sleeping under her baby blanket. Who knows how that happened.
On the days where your blue birds don’t wander into your comfy nest at night but instead manage to stay fast asleep in their own beds, expect a stampede in the morning
Their adamant on doing anything to wake Bucky up
One is pulling the sock off of his foot, another is brushing a finger through his eyelashes
His pink cheek gets poked, his eyes get prodded at, and the bed turns underneath turns into a trampoline
But John does not wake up angry, it is quite the opposite
He has his signature cheeky smile, pulling the kids in for morning kisses and hugs as they giggle in his strong hold
He reaches over the Egan pile to give you a kiss on the lips with a soft “good morning, honey” in the raspy morning voice that makes you swoon every time
The Egan girls do not stay asleep for long, they are full of energy and ambition, creativity and fun
There’s been countless instances where Bucky has been the number one victim…I mean, playmate for their shenanigans
He puts on a silly British accent, one that he had to have learned back in the pub at Thorpe Abbots, and is always dedicated to whatever role the girls have given him to play
“Care for some tea, m’lady?” as his oversized hand holds onto a tiny porcelain teapot, pouring some air flavored tea into miniature pink teacups
The Egan house is full of tutus and dresses, teddy bears and baby dolls
A kindergartner tries her hardest to put an earring in his ear, unaware of the fact that his earlobes are indeed not pierced
“Owww. At this point ya might as well get a needle and poke a real hole in it, that’s what this feels like. The jabbing hurts, dolly.”
“A needle? That’s how ya do it?”
“No, no. Wait-”
“You're gonna look soooo pretty, daddy.” She runs as fast as her little legs will take her.
Don’t worry, she does not manage to get her hand on one of your sewing needles. Those are kept up high, away from the tiny little fingers. Bucky’s virgin earlobes manage to live another day.
Picture the image of him laying down on the living room lounge chair with a pile of little Egan girls on top of him, sleeping peacefully like cute kittens.
He smooths their dark hair, and whispers just like he did when each of them were growing in your womb, just like he did when each of them were swaddled little newborns fresh from the hospital
He doesn’t tolerate anyone who makes a backhanded comment about his girls
When you have a car full of little girls, people feel the need to put in their two cents about your family
When you were pregnant with your second? “Let’s hope it’s a little boy. A girl and a boy would be perfect for you two.’
A few years later, you’re strolling down the street with a little girl holding each hand and a swollen pregnant belly displayed by your pretty maternity dress when you receive the backhanded comment by a passerby: “Is the little boy cooking right now? You want someone to pass the last name onto, don’t ya?”
It’s when you have three or more that the “I’m so sorry”s and “You must be disappointed”s start rolling in.
One day, you got back from taking the kids to the grocery store
The moment you see Bucky, all of the Egan girls run to hug him
It’s not long before he has a little girl clinging to one of his legs, one with her arms around his neck, another holding his hand with no intent of letting go
You quietly recounted to him later in the day how the grocery store cashier remarked upon glancing at all the pink, “Your poor husband. You refuse to give him a boy, huh?”
Bucky was ready to drive to the grocery store and give that worker a piece of his mind
He has healthy, happy kids. What’s there to be poor about?
Bucky is protective of his family, even before little Egan’s got added to the family, he’s always been protective of you
If someone ever bothers you, makes you uncomfortable or says something bad about you, he has to confront them
even though if you insist over and over again that it’s no big deal
You two have always served as an inspiration to your girls, a model of a healthy and happy couple
They grew up with a father who is wholeheartedly enamored with the woman he loves
They mature into women who were raised to expect nothing less in their own men
And if they ever forget their worth, they have Bucky Egan right there to remind him
“Don’t waste your tears over him, dolly. You’ve always been a strong, beautiful girl. Ain’t no dumbass highschooler is gonna change that.”
John Egan is the comfiest, more secure shoulder to cry on
He wipes his little girl’s tears and smooths her hair while she cries
He tries to make her laugh with a dumb joke or two
“I knew just by the way that kid walked that that fool was no good. Strolled around with his nose in the air like a…I don't know, a cockatiel? Mhm, a cockatiel. Had his hair done up like one too.”
“Daddd. What’s that even supposed to mean?” Her voice is still shaky and her hold on him is still tight.
“That he aint good enough for my daughter, that’s what.”
Seeing his children sad is one of the things that absolutely breaks him, he’ll mope around the house worried sick until he knows that they’re feeling better
Let’s just say that the next time John Egan comes across the boy who made his daughter cry, that kid does not have the nerve to come near her ever again
That kid shivers when he hears the name “Egan” because of the stern talking to he had after school that one day
“You’re lucky that you’re a dumbass child. But kid or not, that bullshit won’t fly. Ever. Hurt my daughter again, utter her name even, and you’re getting punched in the fucking mouth. That’s a promise, not a threat. Trust me.”
He’d implore the newspaper boy to do it
And the kid would
Because it’s Bucky Egan
The cool dad everyone wishes they had
And someone managed to get on his bad side? They deserve what is coming.
If his daughter is a little older and it’s an actual grown man that breaks her heart? Yeah, that dude actually gets the pleasure of being sucker punched across the face by John Egan himself.
But eventually his little girl’s do find their soulmate, men who treat them right
Bucky can’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as he walks one of his beloved children down the church aisle, processing the fact that his little girl isn’t so little anymore
He makes sure to keep a handkerchief on him because there is no doubt in his mind that it will be needed throughout the whole ceremony
It does not truly sink in for Bucky that his girls are growing up until he sees them dolled up in gorgeous white dresses, their faces radiating happiness and joy for the biggest day of their lives
Handing her over to her new husband while light shines through stained glass church windows, family and friends gathered in the pews
and her hand is just as delicate as it was all those years ago when a newborn baby first grasped her dad’s finger
And he promised to love her and protect her for eternity
Emotional father-daughter dances— holding her close while singing the lyrics to a sentimental song, the same one he used to sing to her as a bedtime lullaby all those years ago
He twirls his little angel, all dressed up in tulle and lace
The whole day is full of reminiscing to the past
“Remember how chaotic our house used to be, honey?” He’d whisper to you after the ceremony with a dry laugh and a shake of his head
And chaotic it was
You remember how Bucky would rangle them all up for bathtime, like an oversized border collie herding a pack of tiny lambs
When you try to help him by catching a running toddler in your arms, Bucky immediately puts his hand on your shoulder and stops you
Gently taking your hand in his and leading you to the nearest place to sit, “Sit back and relax, honey. You’ve been working around the house all day. Dad’s in charge of baths today, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, alright?”
After some reluctance, you ultimately agree to stay uninvolved, but even though you are sat down, you do not stay unentertained
You watch as Bucky holds a kid upside down in his left arm while scooping up another rowdy toddler in his right
Your middle child jumps on his back, holding onto his neck like Jack climbing the beanstalk
It’s moments like that, seeing your husband’s joyful smile while little ones cling onto him like rambunctious monkeys, that you remember why you made John Egan a father
Moments like that make you grateful that you had the privilege of helping him become a dad because...wow is he meant for it
He shines most when around your littles and it’s clear for anyone with eyes to notice that
After an hour, all the kids were bathed and powdered and dressed in comfy nightgowns
You couldn’t help yourself from giggling as John let himself fall back onto the couch with a drenched shirt and bubbles shining in his dark curls
That night you two took a well needed, candlelit bath of your own
It was nothing short of romantic. John rubbed your feet as compliments and praises started to fall from his lips
“I really don’t know how you manage to do all of that when I’m gone, sugar.”
You lean your head back against the tub while responding in a calm voice, “It’s a lot. That’s why I wanted to help you get ‘em in the bath. We’re a team. A unit.”
“Mhmm.” His hand leaves your foot and makes its way to your soft calf, lifting your leg out of the water. He gives the leg a resting place on his broad shoulder, turning his head in order to easily be able to leave a trail of deep kisses on your skin. The kisses stop when you hear a raspy whisper from his lips, “Just wanted to give you a break is all. You know, sometimes I wake up wondering where those kids get all that goddamn energy from.”
“Oh honey, I wonder who they get it from…”
It was years following the birth of your youngest girl—when all of the newborn clothes, blankets, and bibs were finally folded away into the attic with no little one to make use of them any more—that a surprise happens
All of the kids have started and settled into school at this point, leaving some extra freetime during the day…
It’s a boy
He’s the baby of the family
Waddling around in tiny blue overalls and muddied baseball jerseys
Smiling wide twin dimples adorning each of his rosy cheeks
On sunny days, he rides on his father’s shoulders in the backyard while Bucky makes airplane sounds with his mouth, pretending to be the B-17 that’s flying his little boy through the air
He grows up to be so similar to his father, it’s uncanny
The same characteristics, the same smile, the same sense of humor, the same bountiful heart, the same love for baseball
He is not given any favoritism for being the only boy
Every child is different and treated as their own unique human being, raised with the same love and core values no matter the gender
Another lucky girl gets to have her own Egan
And if all of those years spent raising your son into being the best human he can be did him any good, you couldn’t be happier for her
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Ahhhh, I hope you enjoyed. Finally, I’m writing again. I’ll admit that I’m a little rusty but that’s fine. I’m the only one who reads over this stuff, so sometimes I’m afraid that when I post my incomprehensible rambling…it looks like incomprehensible rambling. My inbox is open for requests, comments, and anything else you want to chat about! I like talking to people! :)
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pt IX good omens on livestream, i'm not ok: S1E4
You did it, Good Omens fandom, my dear maggots. You broke me in every way. Now I'm here, and where I once spent my day peacefully being sad about normal things, I'm now sad about a random fact about nightingales I learned on a British ornithology site and this is just... the brainrot. It's real. Raise brainrot awareness. Prevention is better than the nonexistent cure.
Well, I've procrastinated this post by like 48 hours by drawing fanart and being mopey over Crowley and generally being asleep because I'm still on antibiotics and ill. So let us not procrastinate further. First, episode 4. Tally, hoes!
In preparation for the stream, I gathered two emotional support oranges, only one of which was gaseous, and an apple. This was so that rather than waste an orange on being gay for Crowley I'd use the apple for that, symbolic of his temptation in the Garden of Eden etc. I didn't know how badly this plan would go.
On Discord, our collective loins girded, I noticed with no small suspicion that everyone was muttering about the bookshop and whether I'd be okay. When I demanded frantically what happened to the bookshop (I THOUGHT EVERYTHING WAS IN S2) everyone shut up and told me the bookshop was in tiptop shape and it was all tickety-boo and nothing would happen at all in episode 5.
Spoiler alert it is not all tickety-boo.
We start with Aziraphale going for a jog to keep uh fit for exercising with Crowley, and he is interrupted by Gabriel, who is not Jimbriel, and is not naked, that is, we cannot see his arse yet, but we can see that he is an arse.
We then see not-Newt the deliveryman with his wife Maude and they are the only straight couple that the people on the chat care about. Calling him not-Newt is going to pose problems for me.
Crowley is being a smart baby, and researching astronomy. Poor Crowley. I love Crowley. Do you understand? I LOVE CROWLEY.
There is a lot of talk of spoons and forks and such innuendos. I make a joke about scissors being missing. The chat does not notice. I am disappointed in the gays.
I am so engrossed in the way Death says "deeAaaAAthHHhh" that I fail to notice Not-Newt get killed delivering a message to Death. This is going to pose problems for me.
I forgot about the apocalypse plotline till the horsepeople arrive. This is understandable. I care not for this 'world' ending, my new world is Crowley. I love Crowley.
Duck aliens fucking descend. This is not a joke. There are duck aliens, and they are supportive of trans people. Newt does not count their nipples.
The Shad guy doesn't care Newt found aliens. He is upset that Newt didn't find witches. If Shad was mowing his lawn and found gold, he would toss it aside because he is focused on mowing. I can respect that. People make jokes about Newt eventually finding a witch.
It is suddenly a Christopher Nolan movie. Someone corrects me and says it's more like Jerry Bruckheimer. I do not know what that is.
Someone says Crowley destroys the Bentley but for whatever reason, like a lot of people before, makes it a black box that you have to click to read. I don't mind that, I like clicking.
Aziraphale bought out a theatre for Crowley, like a Kdrama where the rich CEO buys out an entire theatre for his working class girl.
Adam goes through what I went through with OCD. It is not fun.
It is now a horror movie. Adam floats in the air. That was not a symptom I had with OCD.
Crowley asks Aziraphale to run away with him to the stars. Aziraphale says no. Crowley is upset and my baby Azi looks so sad and confused about everything he believes in. Great. I'm totally fine, I think as I start stuffing my emotional support orange into my mouth.
It is now a Home Alone movie. Crowley in gloves is sexy. Mmmmmmm yes. Crowley does great advertising for plant spray bottles as he murders and threatens demons.
I point out that the GO book says Crowley can do "weird things with his tongue" as I learned from the GO scent guide company page. It was after all the most relevant take-away from that page.
Disco Tony arrives. This is not a safe space.
AZIRAPHALE KEEPS TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING AND IS FAILED BY HEAVEN LEAVE MY BABY AZI ALONE WTF GO AWAY. THE ANGELS WALL SLAM HIM TOO. THAT'S CROWLEY'S THING YOU BASTARDS.
Newt and Anathema are cute. I DON'T NOTICE BECAUSE IM SO UPSET HE'S CHEATING ON MAUDE AND WONDERING WHY THE CHAT IS OKAY WITH IT BECAUSE I AM A FOOL WHO CONTINUES TO MIX UP NEWT WITH NOT-NEWT AND THEN THE CHAT TELLS ME NOT-NEWT DIED AND I'M CONFUSED.
Newt and Anathema are having sex. As an aspec person, I am very alarmed at the visuals.
Azi is failed by heaven and the metatron. Shocker. Fucking get away from Azi. Azi is miserable and looks like he wants to cry.
AZI IS EXORCISED AND THE FUCKING FLAME CATCHES IN THE BOOKSHOP AND THE EPISODE ENDS.
TAKE MY PAIN MOTHERFUCKERS. I WILL POST THIS AND THEN WRITE THE EP5 PART.
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climbthemountain2020 · 4 months
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Flame of Autumn - Chapter 25 Epilogue
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Part 26/26 | Ao3
[Thank you all so much for your words of kindness and support while I wrote and posted this fic. As someone new to writing, having you here with me was everything. Your interactions mean the world to me, and I hope you all loved Tilly and Eris as much as I do. The art is from the absolutely incredible @VFisch on IG. She is open for commissions and absolutely LOVELY. ] Epilogue
Four Years Later
“Kieran, wait please!”
The boy was off like a shot, tearing wildly out of the front doors of the Forest House and out into the lawn, the troupe of dogs bursting out behind him like a cloud of smoke and fur. Eris trotted after him, Tilly following slightly behind. The sun was bright, and the air was warm for Autumn, the scent of sun-warmed pine needles permeating the air as the leaves swirled on the wind around them.
“Dada! I can climb!” Kieran was already scaling up the stone wall near the training rings, taking careful but quick steps as he danced around the half circle, his mop of bright red curls flopping into his eyes. Eris was transported to a similar scene in his mind of another small redhead dancing around a crumbling stone wall once upon a time. He couldn’t help his smile as Tilly snaked her hand around his arm and leaned her head against him.
“You climb so well, buddy!” Eris shielded his eyes from the sun with his other hand, then said lower to Tilly, “He makes me so nervous when he does this, but I don’t want to keep him from doing fun things.” She patted his arm, laughing.
“I know, love. I know.” She took a few steps forward towards the wall and their son. “If we stop letting your brothers watch him, perhaps he’d be a bit less rowdy.” She shot him a grin over her shoulder.
“He’s got enough practice swords. I thought he’d be safe with Bray, but do you know I caught him scaling the library shelves the other day? The very top. And every time Azriel visits he just ends up taking him flying. Do you know how stressful it is to walk outside and see that great bat toting our baby through the air?” Tilly just sighed.
“Yes, yes, my dear. Very frightening.” She feigned a pout at him, but couldn’t keep the smirk from her face as he huffed indignantly. “Kieran, love, would you like to go on a special trip?” His sweet hazel eyes widened comically, his nodding so violent that Tilly couldn’t help but smile. He loved surprises and adventures and dragons, and he demanded lots of books and stories and playtime revolving around them. Tilly and Eris were both enamored with their son, finding very little fault in anything he did. He was always running circles around everyone in the Forest House, and Alanna liked to point out frequently that it was like seeing a small Lucien running around all over again. Ironically enough, Lucien and Elain’s daughter, Sirene, often reminded Alanna of a young Eris, brooding and quiet and full of fiery temper. Helion liked to joke that perhaps they’d been switched at birth, much to Eris and Lucien’s collective irritation and violent eye rolling. Kyra balanced the two out–a quiet and silly girl who loved climbing trees and painting, and who loved to herd the two younger cousins around the Forest House property.
Sirene, Kieran, and Kyra, despite their differences, were inseparable when the families got together. Lucien and Eris had been tentatively rebuilding a relationship and long-overdue conversations had been had. While there was some lingering awkwardness between all the brothers, apologies had been given and tensions had eased greatly in the past few years. They knew it did Alanna’s heart good to see them overcoming the walls Beron had tried so hard to build between them, so they tried to make an honest effort. To everyone’s surprise, the relationship with the Night Court and their children had evolved as well, the children and parents getting together multiple times a year to catch up on less-than-official business. Ever since Gwyn and Azriel began making more regular trips to Autumn, the hatchet had been buried, and everyone had done their best to move forward. Strangely enough, in the aftermath of war, they’d found themselves becoming less allies and more friends.
“Come on, Mama. Surprise!” He tugged her hand as he jumped off the high wall, and Tilly could practically hear Eris’ heart rate spike behind her. The male had seen centuries of war, torture, and horrors, but nothing gave him more fear than the safety of his rambunctious child. She didn’t think she’d ever loved him more than she did seeing him care so deeply about their son. She’d been right from the very beginning–he was the most wonderful father. She held her hand out to Eris and he took it, winnowing them all through the world to a quiet spot in the deep woods, another wall of stone standing proud against the forest background.
“Ooh, where are we?” Kieran looked around in wonder, the massive trunks of overturned trees and moss-covered rocks an entirely new world to him.
“This is where I first saw your mother.” Eris was smiling, looking at Tilly with love that only seemed to grow over the years sparkling in his eyes.
“Mama was here?”
“Yes, I used to come here to practice my portals when I was a bit older than you. One day, I had an audience.” She shot a smile at him while Kieran climbed the crumbling rock wall, resuming his antics.
“Portals, mama. Like this!” He threw an arm out, casting a circle of flame, jumping into it before they even had a chance to shout, and then dropping out of the sky into Eris’ panicked arms. “Portals!”
Eris and Tilly’s wide eyes found each other immediately while Kieran giggled wildly in Eris’ arms, flailing so he’d drop him back to the ground. Eris obliged, jaw still agape, and Kieran ran back to the wall to play again.
“Well…things certainly won’t be dull now, will they?” Tilly leaned in and kissed Eris on the cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder as he wound his arm around her and placed his hand on her growing belly.
“Things have never been and will never be dull with you, love.”
Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd @queercontrarian @byyalady @thelovelymadone @clockwork-ashes @lovingkelj @lilah-asteria
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pastafossa · 5 months
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does eli get a happy ending🥺im rereading the trt chapter when he comes to help install the doors and windows at the nest. WHAT WAS HE THINKING AT THE END. is he happy. please say yes. okay bye i appreciate you i hope you’re doing well also your snake is so cute i want to get one now
OK SO ELI.
Poor Eli.
Poor lonely Eli who loves Jane but sees she loves Matt and she has moved on and now he just wants her to be happy because sure, Matt doesn't have a dead lawn like Eli does, but Matt's given her a home and made her happy and loved her and she loves him back.
So Eli came up with a plan.
It's a bad plan.
How bad?
Bad.
Eli, dear god, no, please.
I'm sure it will be fine though. When have I ever slowly built to something terrible?
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SO, SNAKES! You totally should, they make excellent pets, especially corn snakes like Pepperoni, who have good temperaments and come in a wide variety of colors! He enjoys me holding him and is content letting others hold him, never bites, only really poops like 1-2 times a week, is fun to look at and watch, and just generally is a neat, low-maintenance (after initial enclosure setup) little friend to have around. I've raised him since he was a wee baby noodle and it's been a ton of fun growing with him, but there's also plenty of chill adult noodles out there too! I can't recommend snakes enough!
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CHAPTER 4: THE BODY
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This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.
a/n: Enjoy!
Warnings: Officer Callahan tbh.
Word Count: 2062
Masterlist
PART I || PART II
Thursday, November 10, 1983 - HAWKINS HIGH 
“Now, the three main reasons for The Civil War were one, disagreements over slavery, two, state vs. federal rights…” 
I stare outside the window watching the trees ripple in the wind, drowning out the history lesson. It’s been hard to concentrate and I can’t think about how heavy yesterday was. From finding Barb’s car, the thing with no face in Steve’s backyard, running to Lucas in the front yard after finding out about Will. The events following after Mom and Erica found Lucas and I on the front lawn feels like a fever dream. I remember being led to the front door, Erica calling out to Dad, Dad questioning Mom about what happened. I don’t know how or who took a shower first, but I know Mom was talking to me but I couldn’t hear anything. 
The shock of something happening to Barb and the police finding Will in the Quarry didn’t sink in until I lay in bed. I couldn’t stop crying. I woke up this morning squished between Lucas and Erica. Lucas lying almost horizontal and practically hanging off my bed while Erica snuggles into my back like a baby koala basking in my body heat. It’s been a few years since Erica and Lucas slept in my bed and I’m sure Mom has taken multiple photos of us all sleeping together. She loves taking photos and videos of us. 
The news of Will spread across the entire town like wildfire. Whispers of fear, concern and condolences echo in the hallways. I don’t see Jonathan which makes sense considering. I saw Nancy this morning in first period. Neither of us talk, both too wrapped up in our own thoughts to say anything. Mom dropped me and Erica at school this morning. Lucas stayed home. He hasn’t said much since last night and the family has given him space to grieve. For all of us to grieve. We knew Will too. 
“Diana Sinclair?” 
I blink out of my stupor, perking up in my seat. Principal Higgins stands at the door looking at me. 
“Y-yes?” 
“If you’ll come with me, please.” 
Everyone’s eyes are on me and I quickly stand up avoiding their stare as I pack up my books. Principal Higgins escorts me down the hall and I wonder what’s happening. I am led to his office. Janice, the secretary is scribbling on yellow legal pad, her plum-coloured outfit matching her eggplant-coloured nails. She smiles at me, magnified eyeballs warm and kind. 
“Hello, dear,” she greets. 
“Hi, Janice.” 
Principal Higgins nods his head respectfully in greeting and guides me to his office where two officers stand. My eyes widen in alarm and I linger outside the office not wanting to go inside. The two officers look at me through the window and I feel my knees tremble. I don’t know what to expect. I mean who does when it comes to being escorted out of class to speak to police officers. I immediately fear the worse. Barb. Principal Higgins opens his office door. 
“Officer Powell, Callahan. This is Diana Sinclair.” Officer Powell and Callahan peer out the door. Principal Higgins looks behind him and notices I’m not behind and smiles patiently. “It’s okay, Miss Sinclair, you’re not in trouble. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan just want to ask you a few questions.” My heart races. That doesn’t make me feel any better.
I wave half-heartedly with a closed lip smile. “H-Hello.” 
“Good Morning.” 
“Hi.” 
They answer at the same time. 
I don’t move from my spot in the middle of the office and the officers don’t move from where they stand. The whole encounter is awkward and I really want to run back to class and forget this ever happened. I shift side to side on my feet, playing with a loose thread on my skirt wondering what we’re waiting for. If they wanted to ask me questions, wouldn’t Principal Higgins have ushered me into his office to talk? Everyone was just standing here like they were waiting for something or someone. My ears immediately perk up when I hear soft clacking of heels walk into the office and I turn my head to see who it could be. My eyes widen and my jaw drops. Mom stands by the entrance wearing a sleek black trench coat with small kitten heels. Her hair is styled in a nice bob and looks freshly done, meaning she just got back from the salon. Principal Higgins walks past me to greet her, shaking her hand firmly and mom smiles her classic southern belle smile at him. 
My heart is beating so loud, I can hear it in my ears. I clutch my pendant tightly in my hands fearing I may pass out from overstimulation. Principal Higgins nods to the officers and they walk out his office excusing themselves past me. I blink realizing I’m still standing in the middle of the room like a deer stuck in headlights. The men walk out the door while Mom lingers waiting for me. She extends her arm and on instinct I walk towards her in a trance. Mom wraps her arm around my shoulder and without a word, we walk out the office.  
Principal Higgins brought us to the cafeteria. It was empty, but I know the lunch ladies were in the kitchen preparing the food for lunch. He leaves us to parade the hallways and Mom and I are sitting across Officer Powell and Callahan. They introduce themselves to Mom and tell us both, that they are here to talk to me about Barb. It turns out Mr. and Mrs. Holland went to the station this morning to file a missing person report and told them mine and Nancy’s name as the last people who saw her. I guess they are going to talk to Nancy next which meant, Mrs. Wheeler was going to come to the school too. I wish I could’ve warned Nancy about what was happening, but I can’t. I tell the officers what happened Tuesday night. 
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“So, after this argument—” Officer Powell continued. 
“It wasn’t an argument,” I correct, shaking my head. “It was a…disagreement.” I’ve been talking to Officer Powell and Officer Callahan for the past fifteen minutes answering their questions. Mom sits quietly beside me, listening intently to the conversation. 
“Okay.” Officer Powell said. “After the disagreement, what happened?” 
“I walked home.” 
“You walked all the way home in the middle of the night.” It wasn’t a question. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan both looked skeptical about the thought. It takes almost two hours or more to walk uptown.
“Well, no. I-I got a ride.” 
I can feel Mom looking at me now. At the Wheelers with Barb’s parents, I didn’t get the chance to answer Mrs. Wheeler’s question before Mike stormed inside the house. To be honest, I was hoping I would never have to. Part of me wants to keep Eddie a secret. Not because I was embarrassed of him, the complete opposite. He seemingly was the only good in my life right now and I don’t want it all to be too good to be true. Officer Powell and Officer Callahan glanced at each other, my answer perking newfound interest in my story. 
“From who?” 
“His name is Eddie.” 
“Eddie what?” Officer Powell asks, writing in his notepad. 
“I’m not sure,” I respond, frowning. It never occurred to ask him his full name. The specifics didn’t matter. “He goes to this school and he was on his way home…” I don’t want to say Eddie was on his way from work because he is technically working illegally at a bar downtown and I don’t want to get him in trouble. “He saw me walking past Benny’s Burgers and offered to drive me home.” 
“She must be talking about Munson.” Officer Callahan said to Officer Powell. “Wayne’s nephew.” 
Officer Powell made a face. “Al’s kid?” He shakes his head. 
My eyes dart back and forth between the officers. I may have been born and raised in Hawkins but it didn’t mean I knew everyone in town. Mom and Dad moved to Hawkins from Virginia and we were one of the few families in our neighbourhood who didn’t have grandparents who grew up knowing each other. We didn’t come from generations and generations of Hawkins natives. We are the first in our family to uproot here. 
“You seem like a nice girl, Diana.” Officer Callahan says. “I would keep my distance from Eddie Munson.” 
I frown. “Why?” 
“With a father like Al Munson, take my word for it. He’s trouble.”  
My frown deepens and I clench my hands into tight fists. I don’t like how they’re talking about Eddie especially when the information provided doesn’t have anything to do with what matters. Barb’s disappearance. 
“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation to be having with my daughter when her best friend is missing.” Mom reminded, her tone hard. 
“Eddie has been nothing but kind to me.” I counter, nostrils flaring. “He drove me all the way across town to make sure I got home safe. That’s more than anybody here has ever done for me.” 
“Do you have any more questions for my daughter about her whereabouts?” Mom asks in her parental voice.
Officer Callahan sits back in his chair while Officer Powell cleared his throat. 
“What happened yesterday?” he asked. 
“Nancy and I went back to Steve’s house to look for Barb and on the way, we saw her car parked in the exact same spot we left it the night before.” 
“When you went back, what did you see?” 
“I don’t know how to explain it, but it was huge, like some sort of animal or something, but,” I pause, licking my bottom lip. “It didn’t have a face.” 
Judgement shoots across Officer Powell’s face. “An animal with no face.” 
“I know it sounds ridiculous but that’s what I saw.” I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and touch my gold pendant on my chest. “I think it took Barb.” 
“We checked the house and there were no signs of any animals.” 
“Did you check the woods?” 
“Check the woods for an animal?” Officer Callahan deadpans. I don’t respond, fixing my chin up. It wasn’t the brightest question to ask, but it was still valid in my opinion. 
“There was no car either.” Officer Powell adds. 
I sit up straight, eyes darting to his. “What? Where did it go?” 
“That’s what we’d like to know, Diana.” He responds, patiently. 
“Nancy and I saw Barb’s car yesterday. I swear to you.” 
“Here’s what we think. We figure that Barb came back last night and then took off somewhere. Has she ever talked to you about running away?” 
I shake my head. “No. Barb wouldn’t do that.” 
“Maybe she was upset, like you, about the fact that Nancy was spending time with Steve.” Officer Callahan surmises. 
I squint at him and his ridiculous deduction. Barb wasn’t like that. I wasn’t like that. Barb and I may have had our worries about Nancy’s relationship with Steve but it wasn’t because of her. It was because of him. 
“I wasn’t upset about that.” I protest. 
“Jealous, perhaps?” 
The subtle tilt of his head conveyed an air of disdainful curiousity as if he were assessing me from a lofty perch. The laugh that comes out my lips is uncharacteristic. The tinge of bitterness and condescension charges the air. I can feel my Mom’s disapproving stare. My manners were unbecoming, I know. But for Officer Callahan to insinuate I am jealous of my best friend for spending time with a boy she likes is comical and proves he clearly wasn’t listening to anything I was saying. There was no motive for Barb to randomly disappear. There was nothing. The only thing that I know is that she is missing and something bad happened to her. 
“No one was jealous of Nancy,” I shoot back, trying to be mindful of my tone. “Not me. Not Barb. No one. I don’t care about Steve. I care about Barb and she’s missing.” 
The officers both watch me slightly taken aback by my firmness. Mom shifts in her seat waiting. Officer Powell closes his notepad, clicking his pen. 
“That’s all the questions we have for you Diana.” 
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NEXT -> PART II
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pleasantangelpaper · 10 months
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To Run From the Sky (Part 1)
Hi!!! So, this fic is sort of a new thing I'm trying out on my wattpad. It's a William Afton x Reader that is a little angsty! I'm curious to know how tumblr will react to it, so here it is! Feel free to check out my wattpad account if you would like to read there! My user is the same on both platforms! :)
William Afton x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating
   Just last month I was swimming in the clear waters of Malibu beach, and now I'm moving back in with my parents in Hurricane, Utah. Where did I go wrong? How could this have happened to me? I remember, but I still don't understand...
 The air was cold for California as I navigated alleyways, weaving in between sheds and cars to find my friend and roommate, Bethany, who had invited me to her boyfriend's house party. Upon finally finding the house, by ear rather than eye, as crappy pop blared through the enormous living room sound system, I stumbled up the lawn, trying not to trip over various red solo cups. A few boys stood watch outside the door, joking around, and obviously getting very drunk. Walking past them, I entered the house. Loud music and bright lights flooded my senses, bringing me to a very alert state. "Bethany!" I yelled into the void of party-goers. No response was heard. I journeyed on through the group of people, pushing my way past several drunk guys. I then saw a familiar taller gentleman. "Stu!" I yelled at him. "Oh hey Y/N! Have you seen Bethany anywhere?" the puzzled man questioned. I sighed in discontent, "No, I'm looking for her too,". "Maybe you could go check my room? She might have went in there to sit down for a minute," Stu stated. I nodded my head and walked towards the spiral staircase that adorned his second floor balcony. Stu's house was quite lavish. As I found Stu's room I could hear some strange noises from inside. My brain told me to stay out of it, but my heart feared for Bethany. The door opened, and my throat closed. There was my boyfriend, Billy, and my best friend, Bethany, kissing. My mouth stayed open as tears filled my eyes. "How........ how could you do this to me...... how could either of you do this to me.....". The two struggled to find words as they pulled apart from one another. I stood heartbroken in the doorway. My tears started to drip off of my face, creating a puddle on Stu's floor. "Hey Y/N, was she in th-" Stu began to question before he noticed the tension in the room. "What happened?" he asked, a slight tinge of anger becoming evident in his voice. "Stu, baby, he just started kissing me, and I just couldn't fight back," " Bullshit, you kissed me first" The two argued at each other trying to come up with some sort of story that would get them out of trouble, but it was too late. Stu's eyes welled with tears as he screamed for them to get out of his house. I don't remember much after that. It all feels like a blur. I move out of the shared apartment I had with Bethany, and now I'm here, in Utah. 
   I set my last box down on the floor of my childhood bedroom. Waves of emotions hit me as I stare at the corkboard full of memories. Memories of Bethany and I before we had moved to California tainted the room. I felt my soul fill with rage. I tore down  the pictures with tears in my eyes. As I fell to the ground, a soft knock was heard at my bedroom door. "Come in," I grumbled out to the unknown visitor. "How you doing, honey," my mother gently walked into the room, avoiding the pictures on the ground. I just silently cried as she patted my back. "Y'know, I hate to do this to you, but our neighbors, the Aftons, are coming over for dinner tonight, they've got a lot going on as well, and I wish we could reschedule, but this plan has been going on for some time now... we would love it if you would join us, dear," my mother spoke quietly as if any loud words or sudden movements would cause me to spiral again. I sniffled and wiped my tears with my cardigan sleeve, "Thanks mom, but I would rather finish unpacking first," "That's okay honey, take all the time you need,". And with that, my mother left and closed the door, leaving me to my own devices once again. I began to unpack the boxes around me, sorting what I could into the drawers of my old dresser, and organizing a desk space. I set up some stuffed animals on my bed to make it seem more inviting, and I fluffed the pillows that had gone untouched for some time now.
By the time I was finished, I glanced at the clock on my wall and noticed it was 10 o'clock. "I better get something to eat I guess," I spoke aloud to myself. The hallways were dark as I creeped down the wooden stairs to the kitchen. I noticed the smell of burnt coffee as I walked forward, but thought nothing of it, that is, until I noticed a figure that definitely was not either of my parents. "I just can't get this damn thing to work right," the man proclaimed. His purple button-up sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he prodded at buttons on the old coffee machine. His glasses were on the tip of his nose as he stuck his tongue out in thought, his brows furrowed in frustration. My cheeks turned a bit rosy as I stared at the attractive man in front of me. I finally put two and two together and noticed this man must be Mr. Afton. "Do you need any help, Mr. Afton?" I sheepishly spoke. The man spun around in surprise, "Oh! You must be Y/N, I had no idea anyone was still up, your parents told me that I could stay over for the night," he got quieter as the sentence went on, clearly embarrassed by needing a place to sleep. "Don't feel ashamed, I'm also freeloading here right now," I half-joked at my predicament. The older man's face softened as he turned his attention back to the old coffee maker. My family had had this coffee maker for as long as I had been alive. I walked over and grabbed the pot as I hit the button to brew. "Yeah... this thing is so old that if the pot isn't sitting in exactly one place it just doesn't go," I sighed at the fact that we were still using this thing. Mr. Afton chuckled at the piece of old tech and ran a hand through his hair. "Wow, that's something," he said in disbelief. Once the pot was done brewing, I pulled down two coffee mugs, one a pale blue with white bunnies dancing across it, and the other a pale yellow with the same design. "Sorry Mr. Afton, I think these bunny mugs are the only ones clean," I laughed a little at the cute designs in contrast to this grown man. "That's fine, I love bunnies," he smirked. "Also, please don't call me Mr. Afton, you'll make me feel older than I already do... call me William," he half-grunted at the statement. I giggled at him as I poured the cheap coffee into the cute bunny mugs, spilling a bit onto the peeling linoleum of the counter. I handed him the yellow mug in silence and took a sip of the warm drink. I noticed William make a face as he drank it. "Nothing like the taste of off-brand coffee made in a cheap old coffee maker, huh?" I joked. "Oh yeah nothing like it," he chuckled back. We stood with small conversation as we finished our drinks. The interaction made me smile, and I felt a bit warmer inside, like I wasn't alone in all of this. As we both finished off the coffee pot, I gently set our mugs in the sink. "Goodnight William," I said, as I walked towards the stairs. "Goodnight Y/N," 
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dreamersbcll · 11 months
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“I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule”
- whumptober, prompt no. 24
(goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)
—————————————————————————
Dear Mom,
I’ve started this letter so many times that I’m sure permanently smeared ink will be embedded in my skin.
There was an outline, a plan even for this letter. I’ve structured it over and over to get it right. But I suppose there is no right way to say goodbye, is there?
Well, I’ve spoiled it. This is a goodbye letter of sorts. I’m not really sure who I’m saying goodbye to anymore. Which mother will be reading this piece of paper?
Will it be the mother you were before I turned nine? I miss her, you know. You were so sweet in the beginning. I still hold myself at night to remember your presence. I know Sam loves to touch, but you were big on touch, Mom. You taught us how to be gentle and leave gentle markings.
Do you remember the night you first read “Mi Burro enfermo” to us? I remember it—every single second. I remember you holding me tight, letting my chubby fingers touch the crinkled pages. Sam was pressed into my side, and you held us both, kissing our heads as Sam read to me. You would correct her ever so gently and praise her every time she got a word right. I think I was three. Even that young, I remember it all.
What happened there? When did you stop reading to us? Where did the mother with the kind hands and the sweet smile go? Why did you stop making our lunches and taking us to the bus stop?
Why did you start drinking?
I mean, we were not enough anymore? Mom, I was six. Six years old and helping Sam drag you inside so you didn’t freeze out on the front lawn. I remember learning how to make you throw up, just in case you stopped responding. Sam had to teach me to call 911 and check for your pulse. I was six, Mom. Six!
Did you ever think of us, what this would do to us? God, I know having a child born from a serial killer is terrible, but isn’t child neglect worse? I don’t know why you did this to us. I wonder every single day if I deserved that. You were my mami. I love you. Why couldn’t you love us?
Why couldn’t you love me
I know I cried a lot. I know I was noisy. I know I was too much. But I was a child—a baby. I didn’t know better. I just wanted my mami to love me again.
But your jealousy, god, I can still see it now. You always talked down to me as if I would always be around and be your little pawn. All I wanted was to love you. I wanted to love you and be loved back. But you pushed my love away like it was a loaded gun- and pushed me down time and time again. All you did was hold me underwater, breaking my resolve until I was a shell of myself.
Dad leaving was tough. I know. I saw. But I lived that too- I was there. I was eight years old, mom eight! I know he left, and I know he hurt you, even if you didn’t love him like you loved Billy. But why couldn’t you ever think about us?
First, you left me, then Dad, then Sam. You had to know that Sam going was the final straw. You had to hear me cry and scream, and break things. I know you saw me, red-eyes and shaking, begging for someone to stay. I remember those nights when I begged you to love me again. I was thirteen. God, was I stupid.
It really was no surprise that I would run. I’m just surprised that it took me so long. I mean, it's clear that I’m a masochist, constantly begging for love from empty people. I just can’t believe it took me this long to buck up.
But it was because of Sam. Never you. Don’t ever get that twisted. I never would’ve left if it wasn’t for her coming back. I was invested, Mom; I was going to stay in that stupid little town and take care of your sorry ass. God. I’m so glad I’m writing this now to tell you goodbye.
That’s right. Yeah. I’m leaving with Sam. We’re going to be far away from this hellhole of a town. I will never step foot in this town again, and I will never walk back into this house.
I don’t care what you think. If I wrote this a year ago, maybe I would feel guilty. But all I have left for you is rage. I can’t give you my sorrow or hurt anymore. It’s just red-hot rage.
The questions I have for you won’t get answered. I know that you were never keen on tying up loose ends. But don’t worry, your questions will never be answered either. I’m done with you.
Fuck you, Mom. Fuck you for all you’ve done to me.
Yet, I still love you. You’re my mom. I have a big sister who means more to me than you’ll ever know- but you’re still my mom. You’ll still be a part of me.
But you will never touch me again. Ever. Sam will make sure of that.
Goodbye, mom. Good luck.
Don’t forget to stick your fingers down your throat.
Love
From, Tara.
Putting the pencil down, Tara sighed deeply, her eyes closing. She roughly rubbed her face, trying to push the worry out of her skin. There was no reason to carry it around anymore.
Down the hall, she could hear Sam shuffling about, collecting the last of Tara’s bags.
“Are you ready to go, baby?” Sam called, lightly knocking on the door.
Flashing a smile at her big sister, Tara nodded.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Tara calls back, hastily shoving the letter into an envelope.
Staring at the blank envelope, she pondered what to write. Christina felt too formal, but mom didn’t feel right. Taking the pen out, she scribbled a quick word on it and stuck the pen behind her ear.
Mami
As she left the room, she stared at the propped up envelope, wondering if it would ever be read.
Maybe. Maybe not. She wouldn't worry about it anymore. It was time to move forward.
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romanoffsbish · 2 years
Text
Dreams do Come True
Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader
Requested by: @mostlymarvelsstuff
Prompts
"I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it."
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It was a typical Monday morning, your favorite song was blaring from your phone sat on the bedside table signaling to you it was time to get up for work. After shutting the alarm off you begrudgingly went to sit up, but the arm slung over your stomach prevented you. The raspy, disgruntled no against your neck to caused you to smile in amusement., “Scar, I have to get up, I can’t be late to work again; Tim will kill me.”
Your wife, stubborn woman that she was, didn’t pay any mind to your honest words. Instead, her arm tightened around your waist, then her other helped her to shift atop of you. The relieved sigh that fanned across your neck was almost enough to convince you to stay., “Baby, no. I have no time to spare, I still need to shower.,” your wife decided to up the ante, her cuddles weren’t working this time, so she laid a few soft kisses to your skin before lifting her face from the crook of your neck to pout. She’d perfected this expression over the last few years; anytime she wanted to guilt trip you into bending to her very will she’d showcase it.
—————————————
“It’s supposed to storm really badly today.,” Her face fell into a scowl when your eyes still showed defiance., “It storms here every Fall my dear, tis the season for such blessings.,” she groaned when you rolled over her hidden message, and then you noticed her eyes were filling with tears. It took you a moment of silent observation to understand if they were real, because turning on the waterworks was your wife’s—Golden globe nominees, specialty., “It’s not safe Y/N, and that job isn’t worth it.,” the waver in her voice, mixed with the genuine fears you saw within her eyes left you to reconsider if she had a point.
Peering over her shoulder you acknowledged the truth behind her words, the trees branches were thrashing with each harsh gust of wind. The neighbor’s Christmas decorations were blown all over your lawn, but still, it wasn’t torrential., “Baby, this is nothing new to me.”
“Y/N, please.,” she tearily pleaded., “I can’t fathom the idea of my life without you.,” her words hit you like a ton of bricks, weighing your heart down, and you’d been left to wonder where these morbid thoughts even came from., “Shh, Scar, I’m right here baby; I’ll call out.,” you relented easily this time, pulling her head down you guided it back into the crook of your neck, knowing it was a place of comfort for her, and you rubbed her back tenderly as she cried.
When her composure returned to her, she decided to urge you even further., “Quit.,” she pulled back to face you, her face red from her overwhelming prior emotions, and you pulled her in for a sweet kiss before replying to her., “Scarlett, I can’t just quit.,” the blonde huffed against your lips., “But you can, and you very well should. Tim is an ungrateful asshole, and you are so much bigger than that company.,” your eyes softened as your wife ranted on about you, and though she didn’t know it just yet, it was actually working this time after the week from hell you had with Tim last week.
For years now she’d been trying to convince you to quit, and to focus on your dreams. There’s not a single bone in her body resistant to supporting you wholly; you’re her other half. Putting a smile on your face is her favorite pastime, providing for you is her love language. The only real obstacle came in the form of your fears of being a freeloading partner, unable to provide like you’d been raised to need to do., “Scarlett —.,” you were about to agree, but she placed her finger over your lips., “No, I mean it Y/N/N, you deserve the world, and I’m begging on my knees for you to let me give it to you.”
“On your knees, hm?,” you quirked a brow at the woman, who was in fact not on her knees., “Now, as I was about to say.,” she interrupted you once more with a groan., “Pipe down oh she of so little faith. I’ll do it.,” the way she squealed then began to pepper your face in kisses left you feeling on top of the world., “God, I just love you so much baby.,” she softly pecked your lips., “You won’t regret this love!,” her lips then pressed to yours for a deeper kiss to which you hummed in total contentment.
Scarlett’s love always felt like a warm blanket, fresh out of the dryer of course, it was an all encompassing love, it left no room for doubt., “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!,” she began to screech her gratefulness between each kiss, you chuckled heartily at her enthusiasm., “Let me actually quit first honey.,” you reached for your phone and her eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. They look even brighter than when you said “I do,” to each other just last year, and you found that a bit offensive.
Scarlett finally allowed you to sit up, however she wanted to be touching you so she settled behind you, pulling you close while settling her chin atop your shoulder to watch you typing, but to her delight you narrated the message., “Dear Tim, I won’t be in today on account of the fact that I finally quit. You’re a filthy, rotten man, and I can’t wait to see you fail without me. I’d wish you good luck, but my New Year’s resolution is to stop wasting pleasantries on the undeserving. P.S. 🖕🏼.,” Scarlett smirked at the way you read out the message, but a wave of concern flashed through her., “Baby, how will you use him as a reference for work?”
“Let’s be real Scar, the day Tim gave me a good reference to leave him, would be the day that pigs fly.,” she giggled., “Plus; I won’t need to, I will be far too busy being a pretty housewife.,” you teased, she also heard the air of truth, but for further proof she turned your face to look at hers, your eyes spoke to her of your previously noted dreams, and your readiness for them., “Are you sure?,” you nodded., “I love you too Scarlett, so much so that I’m ready to sacrifice my body to start our family.,” the loving glint in your eye overwhelmed her heart, causing her lip to quiver, and eyes to shine with tears once again, you were sorta relieved to find they were brighter than the moments prior.
Though your phone started ringing, neither of you paid any mind to it, far too consumed in one another’s lips to humor your former boss’s unpredictable call., “Still want to shower?,” you nodded enthusiastically, and your wife laughed while dragging you off towards the bathroom for the most pleasant wake up call of your life.
Scarlett was reluctantly doing as instructed, it was the least she could do after you just made all of her dreams finally come true. So, her eyes were closed, and she allowed you to guide her into the mystery pajamas you apparently got., “Lift you leg, mhm, not the other please.,” her hand was on your head for balance, and her brows were furrowed when the fabric you lifted up her body gave way for a breeze. Realization dawned upon her when you put her arms into the exact same piece, and then zipped her in.
“Tada.,” she opened her eyes in fear, but seeing you in similar attire kept her from rebuking the silly onesie., “So, you’re the Grinch, and if your heart manages to grow like it should, then you get to unwrap me.,” an amused smirk overtook her face when observing your present onesie., “The Grinch could also just break the rules, it’s what he’s known for, we kind of have that in common actually.,” you were quick to slap her hand away from your zipper, then you ran off towards the kitchen with her hot on your trail.
Scarlett was about to scold you, but you met her open mouth with the nozzle of a whipped cream can., “Making us some cocoa, how else will we warm you up to accepting joy, hm?,” the blonde rolled her eyes, but the idea of cocoa sounded good so she decided to not disturb the process. While you assembled the mugs she was scooting about the kitchen to make food to balance out the sugary drinks. For you she made some scrambled eggs with all the fixings, for herself she made oatmeal, and for the both of you she brought out a bowl of yummy fruits.
“What’s the plan today then?,” you popped a grape into your mouth, savoring the tart flavor while ruminating over her question., “Movies, of the Christmas variety.,” the blonde snorted, “Well obviously, no other cinema is allowed to exist during this festive month.”
Choosing to ignore her interruption you went on., “Lots of cuddles since I’m so torn up over leaving corporate America for the finer things life has to offer—the ache is truly real.,” you feigned pain by dramatically throwing your hand over your forehead and collapsing onto the couch., “I think I can manage that.,” she set her partially eaten bowl onto the table, then much to your dismay she catapulted atop you., “Go on, there must be more for this rainy day.”
“Lastly, if you play your cards right, we’ll be ending the night in our bed, practicing the art of making a baby.,” she hums thoughtfully., “What will tomorrow bring then?,” her eyes are inquisitive, and yours thoughtful., “I’d like to say the beginning to the rest of our beautifully crafted lives.,” her lips quirked upward at the prospective future., “I like the sound of that.,” her head moved to gently rest over your heart, so you’d pressed play, starting your Christmas movie marathon off with a classic—Krampus.
———————————
1,684 Words
❤️ Kaitlyn 🎄
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theacedragon0w0 · 29 days
Text
Re-amends
"Everything alright Bluebell?"
Sage lifted their gaze from their phone,
"I don't know, I just got a text from Benji that the Lion's Den is having a cookout next weekend."
Hazel rubbed her chin, "Ok, but why does your face look like you ate something that the boss cooked?"
Sage sighed, "Benji wants all of us to come."
Rosalina, overhearing the conversation, leaned against the counter, "I don't know what you are worried about Dear, Vlad and Velvette have been on good terms since the whole coffee shop ordeal."
Sage's ears flicked anxiously, "But that was Velvette, the last time they saw you, you were in your dragon form and they haven't even met Vlk yet."
"So this can be a great opportunity to introduce Vlk and us to an extent."
"Yeah Bluebell, and if they wanna cause trouble, we can handle them."
Sage exhaled, "I really don't want it to come down to that, I want it to go as smoothly as possible."
------------
The limousine pulled up to the large club, the Lion's Den lights were off, as it was closed for the event, but it didn't stop Sage from sweating at the sight of it.
Everyone was well dressed, even Hazel was in a different outfit that didn't have her iconic suspenders. Rosalina and Velvette wore floral dresses as Benji gave Sage a heads up for the menu.
Sage was focused on Vlk, who wore a more casual sundress that matched her accessories, the same ones that symbolized each of her partners.
A part of Sage regretted wearing the black vest that Velvette had them put on, but with everyone's attire, they felt underdressed if they took it off.
The group was greeted by Stripes and Vlad, with the former being more bubbly than the other.
Velvette returned the same energy, "You better have brought some juicy gossip! It has been way too long since we had elevenses!"
Stripes couldn't contain his excitement, "Oh have I got some tea! I'll tell you when we all get to the penthouse, the boys have been dying to say hi to Sage."
To those words Sage's tail wagged, it would be nice to catch up with the dancers, especially Benji.
Vlad only nodded, leading everyone towards the elevator. Vlk nudged Sage's arm, "soooo, am I going to be introduced to them or are we keeping a low-profile?"
Sage wiped the sweat off their forehead, "I do want to announce us, I just need the right time."
"Worried that Vlad will have a sniper at the cookout?"
"I'm worried that he'll piss off Rosalina enough that this club will end up as a crater."
Everyone filed in the elevator, it was more cramped than the ones at the Vee Tower with Sage wriggling between the old couple and their partners.
Stripes thankfully broke the awkward silence, "We hope you gals brought your appetites, Vlad darling here spent hours preparing everything."
Hazel chuckled, "If anything, I'll be the one that can out-eat half of your dancers" which Stripes laughed at the remark.
----
Reaching the top floor, the polycule were greeted to a large patio. The smell of cooked meat was subtle as the grill was producing smoke. Lawn chairs and a long table were centered on the patio, with a simple square pattern for the table cloth. Sage barely got a second to process the scene when they immediately got swarmed by a cluster of stripes, spots, and fur. They can barely understand half of what the cats were saying as everyone was talking over each other but she couldn't fight off the smile that grew on her face.
Stripes clapped his hands to get the dancers' attention, "Give our Sage baby some space! It looked like you were mauling them!"
The cats deflated, each giving out a sheepish sorry and scampered away, some to help Vlad with the grill, others towards the penthouse for the other refreshments.
Stripes waved his paw to the polycule, "We saved a spot for you, granted, we didn't expect this beautiful vixen to be joining us but the more the merrier!"
Vlk's cheeks redden at the complement, looking at Sage for an appropriate response but Sage gave a small shrug.
The five made themselves comfortable at the table section that Stripes gestured towards, with Sage and Rosalina at opposite ends, Vlk next to Sage, Hazel next to Rosalina, and Velvette at the center.
Sage jolted as they felt something cold touch their neck, swerving their head they realized that it was Benji, who was offering them some cold sodas.
"If I knew any better, I swear you can pass as a blue sphinx by how you jumped."
Sage gave an earnest laugh, "and if I knew any better, it's considered bad manners to sneak up on people like that."
Benji waved at Sage's partners, "If it's not too much trouble, would you ladies mind if I borrow my sib from another crib? I need their help with something."
Sage looked at Velvette, they were apprehensive on the idea of leaving them alone with Vlad.
Velvette nodded, "As long as you don't take too long, Hazel-wazel here might not leave any leftovers."
Vlk squeezed Sage's arm, "We'll be fine Sage."
This gave them enough assurance to follow Benji to the penthouse.
The moment that the door shut, Vlad tapped one of the workers to take over the cooking, joining his companion across from the table.
"Now, call me nosy, but the last time we crossed paths, I distinctly remember Sage having three wives." Pointing at Vlk's hand that had a golden ring.
Vlk's ears drooped, but before she could retort Velvette spoke.
"Yes, and Vlk here just so happens to be a great addition, and I don’t think your opinion about the matter means jackshit. Is this why you invited us? Just so you can act all father dearest and say that we ain't good enough for them?"
"No, quite the opposite really, but I do want to tell you ladies when it comes to Sage."
"And what's that?"
"That there will never be another partner like Sage."
Hazel scratched her head, "Pardon the rudeness, but can you explain whatchu mean by that?"
Vlad exhaled, "I have run this club for decades now, and I can say that I have dealt with many of these boys' broken hearts or how they broke hearts themselves, they are selfish, they only see what they can get out of any 'relationship' they get into."
Stripes then rested his chin on Vlad's shoulder as he continued.
"Sage is the one soul here in hell that sees what they can give in a relationship, and regardless of how my views of this whole thing is, I want you four to never doubt Sage's devotion. Sage loves like someone who never learned what hate was, and she does it so freely, and it's so genuine."
Vlad looked up to exchange a glance towards Vlk, "and if you are going to take anything I say today, I guarantee that Sage will be the last person to break any of your hearts."
-------
Sage's tail tumped hard on the bathroom tile, "You dragged me all the way here for a quick hairdo?"
Benji passed Sage a hairtie as Sage finished tying his mane into a tight braid.
"Well nobody does it as well as you, and I wanted to talk to you about something."
"And this something you can't say in front of everyone?"
"Yes, well at least I want you to be the first to know."
Sage crossed their arms as Benji turned his body away from the mirror, "what did you do?"
"Well it's more of who then what."
Sage sighed, "Benji, I am kinda dealing with something and I don't have the ability to listen to what one night stand you had-"
"I'm dating Lorcan."
Sage stood silent for a long minute, "Lorcan? As in the same Lorcan that works for you guys? The same Lorcan that looks like he will get himself stuck in a tree?"
"Yes, that same Lorcan."
Sage shook her head, "Ok so you did the horizontal tango with the bouncer, as long as you keep it subtle, I doubt Vlad will notice-"
"This is different Sage, we have actually dated for about two months now."
"I'm sorry what?"
Benji forced a chuckle, "so what happened was that we first agreed to make it just a one night stand, which turned into more night stands, and then he wanted to take me out to this band concert I was saving up to go see and I guess we realized that we enjoy hanging out on top of the sex. And we do old rom-com movie marathons every now and then."
Sage's expression soften, "wow, you really do love him."
Benji fanned his face as tears were forming on the corners of his eyes, "yeah, he's a dumbass but he is just so sweet you know? He like a hairless chihuahua that also likes glam rock."
Sage patted Benji's arm, "so what do you want to do?"
"I do want to let everyone know, and I figured since Vlad will be focused on your whole wife collection that he won't bat an eye on my whole situation."
"Oh fuck you!" Giving Benji a playful hard shove, "if anything, Velvette's the wife collector, not me!"
"Try to tell Vlad that baby."
The two returned back to the patio, with them seeing Vlad talking to Vlk, and he was being friendly?
Vlk looked up and beckoned the two over, "Hey guys! Vlad was telling us about you!"
Sage and Benji exchanged a glance, "oh, what did he tell you?"
Velvette gave a mischievous look, "Oh nothing, but he mentioned how Sage will chase a red dot and will try to fit inside cardboard boxes, but he's only joking,"
Velvette's then used Vlk's shoulder as an arm rest, "Ain't that right Sage?~"
Face turning a deep blush, they shot a finger at Benji, "Him and Lorcan are dating!"
"Traitor!"
Vlad looked over at Lorcan, who was in a loose headlock with Hazel as they were talking with Rosalina.
He shrugged his shoulders, "Benji can handle that one."
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ohtobeleah · 1 month
Text
For those who are slightly interested, this is my wedding speech from Sunday.
Hello:
Not many people get to say that they have the kindest, most beautiful, selfless, sister in the world. But Sam, I’m so glad, that you can say all of those things.
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing my pure grace, hi my name is Leah and I’m Sam’s older, but much shorter sister.
They say big sisters always have a shadow, and for as much as Sam will deny deny deny, I have forever had a sneaking suspicion that my shadow had a best friend.
From having the privilege of the back of the buss in primary school as a kindergartener, to skipping the line in the canteen during my senior high school years ~ you were always there reeping the privileges and experiences the true power that having an older sister holds.
But I have gathered some additional evidence to suggest that you, my dear sister, will always and forever be my shadows best friend and life long companion. In no particular order I introduce:
Exhibit A: Following the tradition of house captain and spirit of the year award. It doesn’t shock me in the slightest bit that you wanted not one, but two [redacted] names on that shiny new Wilson house plaque.
Exhibit B: Deciding that a career in the fitness industry as a leading professional sounded like a pretty good choice. Sam, you are an exceptionally talented personal trainer. And as i watch you continue to educate yourself to provide the best possible experience to your clients, all I can say is that I’m so unbelievably proud of how much you have accomplished.
Onto Exhibit C: An August wedding accompanied by a burnt terracotta colour scheme. I swear some of us are having a crazy case of de ja vu. But we will always be able celebrate the best days of our lives three weeks apart.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury I could go on and on forever……and I’m going to do exactly that.
When Sam and I were growing up, we had a cubby house that was our pride and joy. In the beginning it started off as a clubhouse. A place where no adults were allowed and where we ruled the whole world.
Slowly but surely it became a kitchen, kitted out with state of the art equipment and empty cardboard boxes from the pantry that we swore to mum we didn’t take. This kitchen was the backdrop for many mud pies, always made with the finest ingredients such as Dad’s high quality sand, mums favourite instant coffee, whatever lawn trimmings we could get our hands on, and the occasional snail shell.
Overtime it slowly transitioned to a classroom, where I’d teach you wrong math skills and you’d look up at me with a dear in headlights stare. I take absolutely no responsibility for your childhood education.
Our cubby house could withstand any situation that the weather would throw at it, so much so that when dad handed us three bottles of water based paint one weekend after we’d begged him to let us paint it bright pink and purple, we were shocked to see all are hard work immediately wash away that same afternoon.
That was the moment we learned that the weather forecast existed and our dad had outsmarted us on an elite level.
Eventually as we grew and our beloved cubby turned kitchen turned school, became a dog house for our childhood dog, Jessie. But it stood tall for years and years watching us grow.
Sam, you now have your own cubby house. A real house where you can escape from the real world. You have a real kitchen to cook whatever you’re heart desires, a kitchen where you don’t have to use dads top dollar concrete mix as salt, or mums instant coffee that again, swore we never took.
Home is where the heart is and wherever you and Troy find yourselves in life is exactly where your home will be.
Troy, take care of my baby sister and I know she’ll take care of you. If you’re lucky I may even relinquish my driveway space for you at mums……if you’re lucky. I am proud and above all honoured to call myself your sister in law.
You balance each other perfectly, an all encompassing representation of ying and yang. As your chosen reading said: two people are better off than one, and there is no other person who could love our cheeky beeky girl like you do. The only love that could possibly rival your love for Sam is your love for chainsaws.
To finish up, because I know I’ve well and truly exceeded my daily Leah quota, I’ll end on this:
Sam and Troy, on behalf of myself and Bailey ~ our biggest peace of advice for the both of you entering this life long journey, is that it isn’t always a 50/50 split.
Sometimes it’s 75 percent to 25, other days it can look like 40/60 and on occasion, 99 to 1. But the goal at the end of each and every day, is to be at 100%, together.
Happy wedding day.
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mooodyblue · 2 years
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hello my dear! I hope u’ve been feeling better today <3
could we get a fic of little!e playing in the snow? maybe it snows at graceland for the first time in a while and he’s sooo excited about it and is annoyed when reader makes him wait to put on a jacket and boots and gloves 😭💜💜 (and yes it’s snowing like CRAZY where I live rn)
this was so cute!!! so jealous y'all are getting snow, it was hot today 😭 thank you for the request 🫶🏼
wc: 764
masterlist
you'd been keeping a close eye on the weather the whole week. it was much colder out, the sky was grey and you were eagerly waiting for it to snow. elvis complained about the lack of snow every single year and honestly, you were getting sick of the plain, boring, rainy christmases the past few years. graceland deserved just a little bit of snow.
it finally happened on a tuesday morning. you woke up before elvis, letting him sleep in a little after a long recording session the night before. you slipped on a robe, crossing your arms for warmth as you headed downstairs. "oh my god." you gasped to yourself once you caught a glimpse of the front lawn covered in white.
elvis padded down the stairs, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. "mommy?"
"oh!" you turned around quickly at the sudden name, "baby, come look!" you took his hand and brought him to the window to point outside.
his eyes widened as his jaw dropped, "snow! momma, it snowed! it snowed, it snowed!" he said excitedly. he quickly unlocked the front door, ready to head out in his pajamas and bare feet.
you pulled him back immediately. "nuh-uh, silly boy." you tsked. "we have to get you all bundled up first."
"but mo-"
"nope. no arguments." he let out a huff as you pulled him up the stairs and back to his room, pulling out his many layers. getting him to change wasn't an issue until it came time to put on his coat. he did his best to convince you didn't need it and that his sweater would be enough, but you knew it wasn't enough. "elvie, it's just a jacket. c'mon." you sighed, tried to get his arms through it as he resisted.
"don't wanna wear it!" he complained.
"well, that's too bad. guess you don't wanna go play in the snow then." you shrugged.
he shot you a glare, rolling his eyes and holding his arms out. "fine."
"good boy." you finally got the jacket on, slipping it over his shoulders and zipping it up. "boots next." you got on your knees to help put his boots on, only to get another dirty look in response. "jesus, baby. you're actin' like i'm torturing you or something! i'm just trying to get you bundled up."
"this is t-tour-tort....tor....t-that word you said! jus' wanna go play, momma." he complained, stomping his feet.
"and once we get your boots and gloves on, you can go play." you said, sternly. you got his boots on, tying them on and patting his knee as you stood up. "you see how easy that was?"
elvis grumbled, "can i go out now?"
you slipped on your jacket and boots as well, not forgetting your gloves and his. "so impatient." you mumbled. "okay, let's go." you walked down the stairs with him, stopping him once more before he headed out the door.
"now what!" he whined.
you took his hands and slipped on his gloves. "watch that tone." the moment you opened the door, allowing him to run out into the cold air and snow covered front lawn.
elvis threw himself in the snow, rolling around in it and giggling to himself. you sat on the steps watching him enjoy himself, smiling as he ran through the snow. of course, the one time you turned your back to him, a snowball smacked right into your back. you jumped up, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. "now, who did that?"
he looked the other way, pretending to kick at the snow and not acknowledging you.
you got a snowball quickly made in your hand, slowly walking over to elvis and tossing it right at his back. he gasped, "momma!"
"wasn't me!" you held your hands up in defense.
and thus began a very heated snowball fight between the two of you. then he went on to make a snowman, assuring you he could build it all by himself. it was a struggle for him at first, but he got the hang of it. he placed the head on top, giving him a face and looking at it proudly. "see, momma! i did it all by myself!"
"i'm proud of you!" you smiled.
elvis continued playing in the snow while you watched, shivering slightly and crossing your arms. "honey, let's warm up for a bit then come back out! it's freezing! i think it's about to start snowing again too."
he perked his head up, "hot chocolate? marshmallows?"
"lots of marshmallows."
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redheadspark · 1 year
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Circus- Random Title fic thing idk what this is bahaha
A/N: YES STELLA! I HAD to write a little list about it instead of a few things!
Snow White
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So...Melody using her ability has become a literal circus at their Oregon Home
Clío and Druig would find birds flying their home constantly, not thinking about it at first since birds were reasonably common at their coastal home
But waking up one early Saturday morning to a hoard of wildlife at their front door was not what they expected.
Rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels, moles, deer, foxes, and even a pair of bears were on their front lawn, sitting amongst one another and enjoying each other's company.
It felt like the circus was on their front lawn on an early Saturday morning.
After the shock disappeared, Druig and Clío knew the culprit. Druig looked at the stairway behind him and inhaled deeply.
"Melody Sersi! Did you summon the entire forest to our front lawn?!" He yelled up the stairs.
A pause was heard, then Melody tentatively answered at the top of the stairs, "Yes?"
"Oh dear," Clío hummed.
Since then, there were ground rules for wildlife near the house: Melody had to use the meadow behind the house if she wanted to interact with any of the animals, she had to be in eye and ear sight with at least one parent, and no animals were allowed within 6 feet of the home because of the boys still being a pinch too small.
Also, Druig didn't want any animals eating out of the vegetable garden he worked so hard on for the past year.
Melody took those rules to heart, making sure she was only using the meadow behind their home for a little bit of time. Druig and Clío would see her tend to the smaller creatures with ease, including baby rabbits and birds with their chicks.
Clío had a moment of panic when a bear and her cub were with Melody in the meadow. But after watching for a split second, Clío realized that the mother bear was napping while Melody was playing with the baby bear, who was cooing at Melody and wrestling gently with her.
"You weren't scared of that bear, Petal?" Clío asked Melody later that night as she was tucking her in bed.
"No, momma! The mommy bear was really nice and that was her only baby! She needed to take a nap and I told her I would play with her baby while she took a nap, just like what Da does when you need a nap!" Melody replied happily, Clío giggling as she kissed her goodnight.
When the Eternal family would come to visit, they were both surprised and impressed with Melody and her charm on the local animals.
"So why is her nickname Snow White again?" Sprite had to ask as she came to visit one week in the Spring. Clío and Druig eyed each other and then pointed to the back window in the kitchen. Sprite looked, seeing her niece talking to a small deer family and the baby deer nuzzling against her hand. Sprite's eyes went wide.
"Holy Shit!"
"Hey! Langauge in front of your nephews!"
Thena loved seeing Melody use her ability, looking at her niece with pride as Melody would tend to some of the smaller creatures.
"A true warrior tends to those who are vulnerable," Thena told her once as they sat together on the porch to watch the sunset over the ocean, "You loved those animals with everything in you, little one. They'll love you in return,"
"This is the coolest thing ever!" Jack would say in glee as he sat with Finn and Melody while some squirrels and chipmunks would crawl all over them and in their laps. Phastos would watch with a hint of nervousness, though he trusted his niece with her powers.
"Jack, you're taking a bath tonight after playing with those little rodents!"
"Aww, Dad!"
Kingo would park his car a bit farther away so the birds would damage his rental car.
"Please don't ruin the exotic rental!"
"You're fault for getting the expensive rental out here in rural Oregon!"
"Oh shut it, Makkari!"
But Druig and Clío saw one heartfelt moment with their youngest child Oliver. Being the quieter twin and more on the meek side, Oliver was more of an observer and watcher on the sidelines. But he loved seeing Melody interact and play with the animals, wishing to go out there himself and see it first hand. Yet he was afraid, too timid to take the leap.
"Come on, Oli. Don't be afraid!" Melody explained as she pointed to the large family of rabbits playing together in the meadow, "They're really nice, I told them all about you! Here, take my hand," Melody laced her fingers with her brother's hand, looking at her parents for permission.
Druig nodded, knowing Melody wouldn't let anything happen to Oliver. Clío watched with a hint of hesitance as her daughter lead her little brother to the small meadow, where a little of rabbits were jumping and frolicking through the high wildflowers and bushes.
They both sat down together and immediately a few rabbits came to Meldoy and right into their lap.
At first, Oliver was scared and nervous. But the smallest rabbit hopped into his lap and nibbled on his shirt, Oliver giggled and shrieked in laughter.
Clío and Druig never thought they would have a Disney Princess as a daughter, let alone Snow White herself
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@a-lumos-in-the-nox @basicrese @virtueassassin @heartofwritiing @botanicalbarnes @ethereal-athalia @heliosphere8
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