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#I blame my dad because he liked to tell the story
robbyykeene · 2 years
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I think my most controversial opinion is that I don't like Johnny. Like, I don't hate him, but after seeing his fans so excited to defend him from his shit, I just don't. Sometimes I feel like I'm just being contemptuous of white blonde men jsjsjsj sorry johnny you just dont make it for me
Lmao I don’t really agree but honestly anon valid! My feelings about Johnny (and every character tbh) are so complicated because it’s like. I think at the onset of the show he was a really compelling and sympathetic character who was flawed and complicated and in general just a great take on the character. And he is very blorbo to me. But as the show has gone on it’s all just gotten tired. Like I’m not averse in any way to a flawed protagonist who does terrible things…but the problem is that ck presented itself as johnny’s redemption story, and he has yet to make any real meaningful growth at all. the casual misogyny, the reckless endangerment of children, all the things about him that were clearly condemned by the narrative in the early seasons have now like. been turned into beloved character traits of his that the will never change. and it’s honestly just boring. because shows about bad people who do bad things can be good an interesting. just look at Barry. or sccession. or literally any show that's been popular on tumblr ever. but the problem with ck is that it wants to play this safe middle-ground where johnny can do bad things, but he will never have to ever face any meaningful narrative repercussions for it. and that’s just so so boring imo. and maybe if that’s the story they had started telling from the onset it could’ve worked, but because it wasn’t in season 4 johnny just came across as boring and stagnant and unlikeable. and so did like 99% of the characters tbh. at least to me. so tldr it’s not that I don’t like johnny, it’s that I very much love him and also hate what season 4 did to his character.
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nathaslosthershit · 23 days
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
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euovennia · 1 year
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headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)
anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3
pt. 2
fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:
let's get one thing straight
becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task
while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend
the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone
i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself
and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone
but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack
cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before
naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave
but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare
think 👁️👁️
he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him
it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"
to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)
but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."
he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"
he does not spit it out
from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him
the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him
these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking
he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it
and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own
and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is
so what does he do?
he tries to block you out
it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity
and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)
and the two of you become quite chummy
well
as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost
instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you
it's a surprise
a delightful one
but still a surprise
his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is
despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts
so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold
it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!
anyway
simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic
you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it
he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off
he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover
but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself
maybe having a friend isn't all that bad
and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue
until one day you don't show up
while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now
you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry
even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?
but you don't show up the next day
or the next
and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry
and a little sad and worried
but mostly angry
who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)
if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face
he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room
he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you
but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks
you got yourself sick
tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you
which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine
you nearly cry in your haze of sickness
you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much
ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship
it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days
but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday
which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks
but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"
and most times you say yes
but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)
but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free
gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man
when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary
like
imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling
i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway
it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it
like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in
and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand
cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."
then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot
it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you
especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission
you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment
seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?
and honestly?
you're not quite sure yourself
you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to
maybe one day you'll ask him yourself
maybe you won't
doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend
even if he doesn't refer to you as the same
he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same
regardless
you two are very much attached at the hip
what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person
he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem
soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him
gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door
price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out
it's sweet really, the friendship you have
it warms your heart thinking about it
and it warms his too
even if he won't admit it
he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to
because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend
and he's glad it's you
:)
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leclercdream · 8 days
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maroon
✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it
✮⋆˙ ex!carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend!lando norris x singer!reader
✮⋆˙ warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, carlos is an asshole
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others
yourusername: the lips i used to call home
maroon is yours now x
view 3,485 comments
landonorris: tattooing maroon on my arm rn
↳ yourusername: ah i love having a fan
↳ landonorris: im proud of you
↳ yourusername: i love you with my whole broken heart
user1: so mom and dad are really over uh
user2: THE HEARTBREAK
user3: the marks they saw on my collarbone the rust that grew between telephones 😭😭😭😭 WHYYYY
lilymhe: yn WHY would you even write the fucking legacy lyric. i’m about to break up with alex so i can sign this properly
↳ alex_albon: excuse me?
↳ alex_albon: well maybe we could take a 3:39 break to sing it tbh
↳ yourusername: please DONT <3
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f1gossip
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liked by bffname, user4 and others
f1gossip: Carlos Sainz spotted in a Melbourne club with model Rebecca Donaldson after just three weeks of breakup with singer and wag of 3 years yourusername. Not only that, but if you scroll down on our page you can find that this girl is the same that was on a yacht with Carlos about two months ago 👀
tagged carlossainz55 yourusername
user1: so he really did cheat uh
user2: after 3 years i was waiting for a ring, not this :(
user3: not bffname liking this lol pls
↳ bffname: i mean if he cheats he should at least be held accountable
liked by landonorris
↳ user3: LANDO?!!!!
user4: yourusername just ruined carlando forever
↳ user5: please go to therapy
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f1gossip
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liked by user3, user6 and others
f1gossip: this ex couple won’t stop giving us content! Carlos Sainz and ex girlfriend yourusername seen outside a cafe arguing. Apparently he left her there crying by herself :(
According to one of our sources she was crying because of the alleged cheating from his part, and he was being insensitive about her feelings. The worst part for us? he blamed her music and touring for the downfall of the relationship 😳
tagged: carlossainz55 yourusername
user1: is he INSANE?
user2: damn who does he think he is 💀
user3: she deserved it tbh
user4: maroon hits different after this
user5: so he can says he cheated bc she was on tour but she never did even though he is always around the globe driving?
↳ user6: please and she was always with him at every gp, even arranging tour dates so they could be together 😭
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yourusername ig stories
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replies:
landonorris: damn
landonorris: when did u get hot?
↳ yourusername: when i hit puberty
↳ yourusername: when will it be your turn?
↳ landonorris: haha 🙄 omw to pick u up
lilymhe: tell me that’s song lyrics PLEASE
↳ yourusername: hehe 😈
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part 2 coming soon x
sorry if there are mistakes english is not my first language
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proxima-writes · 4 months
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title: my tears ricochet | part i
pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader
rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 7k
summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.
you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!
chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!
major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death
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You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.
The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.
"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"
You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.
"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."
"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."
"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."
"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"
He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."
"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"
"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"
"Can't say that I have," you reply.
"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."
"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.
The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.
"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"
"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.
"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."
"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."
A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.
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"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.
"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"
"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"
He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."
"I can just ask him to--"
"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."
"But--"
"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"
While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.
"Could you give me Joel's number?"
Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.
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You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.
"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"
"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.
"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.
"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.
"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"
She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.
"What made you pick this place?" He asks.
"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.
"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"
He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."
“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”
“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”
“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”
“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”
Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.
“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”
Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.
“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.
“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”
You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.
"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.
"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."
"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."
You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"
Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.
"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.
Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.
“So? What are your thoughts?”
“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”
Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.
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Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?
Not yet.
Joel: I know a place. You busy today?
You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.
I’m not busy. When did you want to go?
Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.
“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.
“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.
“The plaid one!”
“Should be in your tie drawer!”
“It’s not here!”
You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.
He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”
“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”
“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.
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Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.
When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.
He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.
Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.
“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”
You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”
“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”
“Ours?”
A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.
“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”
“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.
“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”
As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.
“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”
“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”
“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”
Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”
“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.
“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”
“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”
“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”
He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”
“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.
Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”
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Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.
“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”
You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?
“Sure,” you agree.
That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.
Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.
And you're not sure what that means.
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You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.
When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.
There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.
Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.
You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.
“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.
“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”
You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”
“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”
“Could you come dress shopping with me?”
“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.
The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.
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Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.
“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.
“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.
“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.
“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”
You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.
“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.
“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.
“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.
“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”
“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”
“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."
Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.
Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.
"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."
"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."
"You wanna test it out?"
He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.
The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.
"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.
"Huh?"
"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"
The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.
"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"
You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.
"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."
The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.
She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.
"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"
He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."
You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.
"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."
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With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.
The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.
The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.
He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.
"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"
"No, not yet," you reply.
"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."
You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.
"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.
"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.
"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.
You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.
The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"
"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."
"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.
Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."
"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.
"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.
"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"
Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.
Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”
“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.
“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”
“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”
“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”
His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”
“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”
“No!” You shout.
His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”
The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.
You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.
“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”
“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.
“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”
“Like what?” You sigh.
“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”
“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”
Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”
Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.
“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”
You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”
“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”
“Goodbye, Joel.”
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Joel: Hey
Joel: You having a good week?
Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?
Joel: You’ve been quiet
Joel: I need to know you’re okay.
Joel: Just let me know
Joel: Please
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“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.
“I can't wait,” you reply.
"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."
"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.
The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.
Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.
“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”
You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.
"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.
"I've been busy," you say.
"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"
"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."
"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."
The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.
For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.
But it's not.
You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.
"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"
He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.
"This isn't love, Joel--"
"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"
"There is no card!" You shout.
"You kissed me back!" He counters.
You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.
Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.
A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"
"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.
"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.
Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."
The door slams shut behind him.
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Your rehearsal dinner is torture.
This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.
Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.
It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.
"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."
The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."
"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."
"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."
His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."
"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"
Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.
"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"
You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"
"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"
"What do you mean?" You ask.
He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"
"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."
"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."
"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."
"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"
Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."
"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."
Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.
"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.
"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."
You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?
You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?
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It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.
For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.
A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.
It's Joel.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.
"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.
"Yes."
It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.
"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."
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Joel Miller masterlist
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divider graphic by @saradika-graphics.
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I think Hobie brown is the one character I've seen written completely out of character the most
Like, he would NOT say that
He definitely is. I see people write Miles and Gwen as spot on (pun unintended). Miguel and Pavitr are usually butchered for linguistics reasons
But with Hobie, him being a punk - one from a very specific time - adds a whole new layer of difficultly and honestly. At this point, I can't even blame people.
I think Hobie's mischaracterization is caused by two primary things, one purposeful, and one not. Please allow me to rant.
Hobie Brown, Mischaracterization, and the Sanitization of Punk Culture
I think Hobie's characterization is the perfect example of the way media purposely deminished and trivialized the punk identity in order to erase it's political connotations.
In other words, people misunderstanding Hobie shows how the media warped and censored the definition of 'punk' in the last 50 years.
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And that's on purpose.
Let's take the hippies for an example. When you think of them, what beliefs comes to mind?
Peacefulness, usually. Pot smoking. Music loving. And Anti-war. They love peace. The phrase 'Make Love, Not War' make come to mind.
But it's easier for the media to historically display hippies as people who were opposed to war - rather than people who were openly oppossed to the Vietnamese War.
As in, they weren't just opposed to war - which they were. They were also specifically opposed to the United States government crossing borders in order to push a capitalist agenda in Vietnam.
It's easy to say hippes loved communes - then to say 'Hippies were Communist'. With a couple words switched around - sanitization.
Punk is just like that.
It's easier to focus on the response rather than the source. It's easier to look at Hobie singing than to consider what he'd be singing about in those songs.
I feel like in the past 50 years the media has purposely centered the outrage of punk around music - as a targeted distraction, and a method of silencing. This goes from the outward hatred of Sex Pistols - to a President's wife literally taking a metal band to court in order to get the 'Explicit Content label' instated for the first time.(crazyyyy long story- crazy interesting. Google 'Mary Gore vs Twister Sister' - the videos of the band in court is hilarious)
But anyway the outrage of punk music in specific and the silencing of the message behind it kinda changed the way people viewed punks.
Media very much wanted to make punk something about senseless rebellion towards everything, the same way they tried to turn anarchy into 'unending chaos that never stops', when neither of those things are true.
Basically saying 'Oh, those people over there? They aren't angry oppressed people screaming and forming a community based around resilience, those are teeennagerrs. theyre just screaming cause theyre mad at their dads or something PLEASE dont look at them PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT CHECK IF WE'RE TELLING THE TRUTH'
And so people are presented with someone like Hobie, they see the loud music, but not picking up what he's saying if you get my drift.
And the other thing I'll try to keep short.
It's not purposeful, but I think it matters.
The Internet - Subculture vs Aesthetic
I don't think this is something that's been talked about yet.
But I feel like a lot of people misunderstand what a subculture is. So when they see Hobie, they see fashion, and music taste, and attitude. They instead perceive him as an aesthetic. Not someone who participates in subculture.
Subculture is a way of life. It encompasses not only your fashion and music tastes, but it can and usually extends to things like your morals, your behaviors, the spaces you exist in, etc.
Goth, Punk, Vegans, hell - even Nudists - are all subcultures. Because they effects the persons lifestyle. Subcultures are lifestyles.
Aesthetics are not.
An aesthetic is a (usually) visual ambience that is meant to evoke a specific emotion.
Aesthetics can extend to fashion, decor, and music taste - but not your morality or behavior.
E-girls, Emos, Hipsters, what have you - all aesthetics as they do not encompass morals, or behaviors.
And because of that - there are things that do or don't make you a punk. But there aren't really things that do or don't 'make you emo'.
Aesthetics don't have conditions, but subcultures do.
You have to be anti-government to be punk. You don't have to hate your life to be emo.
(Which is why when people bring this up, people are quick to call 'gatekeeping!' Because in the context of aethetics gatekeeping is seen as unneccesary, whereas in subcultures 'gatekeping' is more so protecting the underlying beliefs and motivations of the movement. People who see Hobie as an aesthetic will find these conditions odd because they're not seeing his punkness as a subculture.)
Today on the internet, it's a lot more common and easy to engage in an aesthetic. It's not uncommon for someone to purposefully pick an aesthetic - and go all out - simply because they like it. It's great. I engage with an aesthetic all the time.
But because of that, when people see Hobie it's easy to immediately be like 'oh okay hes doing it out of fashion hes doing it because he vibes with it cool.'
They look at Hobie the way they would look at an eboy (do those still exist).
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Sooo mixing the censored image of a punk along with the modern-day instinct to perceive something as an aesthetic rather than a way of life kinda causes.....this.
A Hobie tag were a lot of people completely misunderstand who he is as a person and his motivations as a superhero outside of 'I hate the establishment'.
Plus add in a dash of people just being totally blank on 70's politics. The Vietnam War, Margaret Thatcher coming to power, the IRA, etc. - all of those things I think tells us a lot about Hobie. I'm currently on a piece about that and an explainer of most of those events. Or if you want a brief rundown please feel free to ask, I'll do my best.
If you wanna know Hobie more - don't listen to punk music. Go read the lyrics, if you get what I mean. They truly do have something to say.
Hope this made some sense, thanks for reading if you made it this far :) also no proofread we die like kings but ill most likely do it later and delete this note.
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hanafubukki · 3 months
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*breaks your door with an axe in the shape of bat and peeks inside* hey.
So! I got hungry for soft Lilia and baby silver with a Yuu that accidentally space time traveled in the wrong direction for a couple of days.
And for a couple of days they help take care of a baby silver, with a moody malleus showing up from time to time in the span of the weekend Yuu stayed.
So cottage core family moments! From preparing Silvers milk/food to telling certain dragon to stop staring from outside with a threating look so Yuu doesn’t put anything sus in the food.
“Malleus, please, stop! If you want, you can come in and help with the cooking”
“Help? How bold of you human, asking the prince that so humbly allows you to exist in this land, to help you with a task reserved to who are my servants,”
“Shame, I was going to ask you to be my taste tester for the ice cream. Guess I can ask Lilia,”
“But I am kind and I will assist you in your cooking endeavors!”
Yuu’s food is too good to pass for MalMal, as Yuu knows exactly what to put that he likes whenever he comes over! Which is almost every day.
He may be a prince, but no one is mighty enough to not lick the cake batter from the bowl.
Hello Anonie 🌺🌻💚
With all of you breaking down my door, I think I’m going to be cold this rainy winter 🤣🤣
…do you think Diasomnia will let me stay with them? 😆💞 also, can I have that axe I want to use it on the senate 🤣 (at least you didn’t go “here’s Johnny!”)
You are speaking my love language because yes!! Time travel shenanigans my love!!
Malleus adores Silver. He would see you and remember the stories he heard about human and would be extra protective. Lilia says it’s fine. You have the blessing of the night fae on you. Fae can tell when people lie and you have spoken nothing but the truth.
Haven’t given them details of the future, but he can’t blame you for being precautious.
Even so, Malleus keeps his guard up until, well, you bribe him.
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You had seen all sides of Malleus Draconia from your time at NRC, that whole dream fiasco, and even beyond that.
But this side? The very protective and yet slightly rebellious side? Was new to you. You kind of enjoyed this more expressive Malleus.
You definitely enjoyed taking care of baby Silver. He was beyond precious and such a happy baby.
You can see why Lilia loves his sons so much. Both of them are adorable.
A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to enjoy this tranquility.
But no, you couldn’t.
You had so much waiting for you in the future.
These little ones will grow into fine men.
A lover who you adore with your whole heart.
You couldn’t wait until you returned to your time, so you can tease them.
“I see Malleus warmed up to you.”
“Not with any help from you.”
Lilia laughed, “I knew you could handle it.”
“Father’s intuition?”
“A bit of that and something else.”
With the way Lilia eyed the chain around your neck, you knew he had an idea.
The chain held your wedding ring.
Your husband always was a cheeky and smart one even during the NRC days, baring a certain event that is.
Smart bat dad.
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You opened your eyes to fluttering kisses all over your face.
“Welcome back, Precious.”
You pulled Lilia down into a kiss.
“I’m back.”
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☺️🌺🌻 Surprise! They are married and you were from a further future beyond nrc time.
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bagopucks · 3 months
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A. Matthews - Worlds Worst Dad
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✄————————————
Auston Matthews x Fem!reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warning(s): another family fight.
When I had gotten the request to do Auston and Hudson angst, I had initially started with two fics and for whatever reason I had them both completed last season. So I tweaked this one a little so I could still post it.
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Hudson was too young to understand.
“Just listen to me, bud.”
Auston had been so busy with the playoffs, that he hadn’t been home. He had been so busy with his job, and myself with my own, that at some point, we lost sight of how important communication was. Not necessarily for us, but for Hudson.
“You said you wouldn’t leave!”
“I’m right here.” Auston sounded so lost. I couldn’t blame him. Neither of us really expected our reunion to go this way. Hudson had been patient at first when playoffs began, but at some point he had given up. He’d become upset at first, worried. Nervous. Then he became angry. So angry. I couldn’t see into his mind. I couldn’t understand what he felt, but I knew it had to do with the way his biological father left. Sure, he didn’t remember it happening, but after his grandfather let the story slip one day, ‘fathers’ became a fragile subject for Hudson.
“You’re not around any more!”
Auston responded to texts when he could, and always called back when he missed a call, but the time zone differences made things difficult. Hudson didn’t understand why Auston couldn’t talk. Why Auston never stayed on the phone long enough to speak to him.
I had thought Hudson’s behavior would turn around when I announced Auston’s return home. Apparently it didn’t. I knew the knockout was hard, and I knew it took a toll on Auston, but I also knew he was ready to be back. I had warned the man before he came home, but I hadn’t expected Hudson to lash out the way he did. It was the last thing any of us needed.
“I’ve been a little busy, Hudson. Just chill out okay?”
I felt like a horrible mother. A horrible lover.
“Don’t tell me to chill out! You left!”
“Hudson don’t speak to Auston that way.” I reprimanded hopelessly.
“I didn’t leave.” Auston argued with a scoffed out laugh.
“Yes you did! Get out!”
“Hudson.” I finally heard him get tense.
“Get out!”
“Hudson, listen to me!” Auston raised his voice. It wasn’t something he did with Hudson. Mainly because he never had to. I could tell by the silence, that Hudson was trying to understand what was happening. Trying to process what it meant that Auston was angry.
“No!” The boy finally shouted back.
“Hudson! I have to work!” Auston finally snapped. I flinched, raising my hand slowly to clasp over my mouth as I felt a pang of emotion in my chest. Hudson simply didn’t want to be abandoned again. Not by another dad.
“I don’t want you! You’re a horrible dad!”
I jumped off the couch as soon as I realized what had been said. The blanket over my legs falling to the floor.
“What? You don’t mean that.” Auston’s nervous laugh had my heart thudding against my chest.
“Yes. I do.” The determination in my son’s voice had me immediately crossing the room to reach my son. “You’re horrible.” I watched Auston’s expression shift, and I felt my own breath catch in my throat as I spotted the tears in his eyes. As I reached for my son, he turned, shoving my hand away and storming off down the hall. The slam of the bedroom door had both of us flinching. My hand flew up to rest against Auston’s arm, squeezing gently.
“Aus,” I couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. I could see it in Auston’s eyes. He was devastated. “You know he doesn’t mean that” I whispered as I tried to turn his body to face my own. “He’s just emotional.”
“He said it pretty loud and clear.” Auston gestured toward the door, speaking as if it was an obvious fact. And it was. But that didn’t mean anything. Hudson was a kid, and Auston had done no wrong. He’d understand that eventually, and come around.
“He’s having a hard time. You have to know that.” I tried to push a piece of Auston’s long hair back before he pulled away, pursing his lips and shaking his head. My stomach twisted in knots.
“That’s okay… it’s fine- I’m fine.” Auston shrugged, “I’ve gotta go and get my dog anyway.” I had never seen Auston guard himself before in such a manner. He’d always been open with his feelings and emotions. “I’ll talk to you some other time, okay?” He shrugged once again, trying to keep up with the chill facade he usually didn’t have to fake.
“You can stay tonight.” I tried, but I knew he wasn’t going to.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’m really making your life easier right now.”
“You’re not here to make my life easier, Auston.” I watched him slip past me, and I followed him to the door. “Sometimes Hudson isn’t going to like things you do. He’s the kid. You’re still in charge.”
“I can’t be in charge of him if he fucking hates me!” Auston shouted in a hushed tone. I watched as tears finally began to roll down his cheeks. This was not the type of reaction he hoped for after such a shitty second round knockout. Things were piling up on him.
“Don’t go home alone like this.” I insisted, wishing I could have comforted him the way he had done for me so many times before.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry, Aus.” I whispered as I watched him slip his shoes on.
“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged again.
“I’m still sorry. You don’t deserve it.” He turned to glance at me, eyes distant. Thinking.
“I probably do.”
We had said our goodbyes before Auston left. Auston and Hudson were best friends as much as they were family. I knew it killed Auston to think he’d hurt and disappointed Hudson. And I knew it made him feel terrible to think he’d done so horribly that Hudson hated him.
“Hudson.” I had waited a while to speak with my son, uncertain of what to say. When I pushed open his bedroom door, I found Hudson coloring in a book on the floor. Something bothered me about how calm he looked. He looked up from his coloring book when I approached, fidgeting with the blue crayon in his hand.
“Yeah?”
“Honey, you really hurt Auston.” I tried to be gentle as I spoke. I sat down on the floor across from Hudson, watching his eyes fall back to the book on the floor. “Hudson.” I tried to gain his attention. “Auston’s really sad. He doesn’t want you to be angry with him.”
Hudson’s hand shook slightly before he dropped the crayon. He remained silent before I heard him sniff.
“Then why’d he leave?”
“He told you, Hudson.” I moved to sit beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his back. “He’s gone away for work before.”
“But he always talks!”
“The end of the season was super busy for him, Hudson. Auston never meant to hurt you. He loves you, so much.”
“No he doesn’t.” Hudson pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them as quiet cries escaped his lips.
“I promise he does. He always asked about you when he had time to call. He always said he was so excited to come home and see you. Hudson, he missed you more than he missed me.” I rubbed the boy’s back.
“No he didn’t.” Sometimes I cursed the heavens for giving my son the same stubborn behavior I held.
“Hudson.” I moved my hand from his back, turning his head to look at me. “Auston loves you more than anything. He hated being away for hockey. He hated the fact that he couldn’t be there to help you sign up for your first peewee team. He hated missing your last day of school, and he hated missing the little party we threw.” I watched the tears slip down his cheeks. “Auston tried so hard to call me that night. But things got in the way and he felt horrible.” Hudson leaned against my side, crying quietly as I returned my hand to his back, rubbing gentle circles.
“Is he mad at me?” Hudson’s voice trembled.
“Honey, I don’t think he’s angry. Just upset. You should never tell people you hate them. Especially someone as close to you as Auston is.”
“I’m sorry.” Hudson buried his head in his hands.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, hun.” I ran my hand through the boy’s hair. “And the only way that guilt is gonna go away, is if you say sorry to Auston.”
“I will.” Hudson croaked out, another sob shaking his body. I sat on the floor with him for a half an hour before he began to relax. As much as I wanted him to apologize and be over with the ordeal, I figured a day with nan was needed first. A day for him to get out of the house, to see one of his favorite people, to avoid the situation at hand. He’d been at home waiting for Auston for weeks. He needed a break.
So the next morning, I helped him pack up and promised I’d be there the following day to see him. He asked about apologizing to Auston, but I said it was a good thing to give somebody space when they’re upset. I didn’t tell him I had plans to visit Auston. Kids didn’t need to know everything.
“One minute!” I heard Felix bark. I hadn’t seen the dog in forever. I was tempted to press the doorbell again for the sake of fun, but just as I reached for it, Auston was pulling the door open and hooking a finger in Felix’s bandana to hold him back.
“Hey, what’s-“ he stopped the second he looked up from his dog, a smile slow to form on his lips. Though it faltered when his eyes wandered, taking note of the unusual silence.
“No Hudson.” I spoke reassuringly. “I just came to see you.” I wanted to check on him, but Auston didn’t need to know that.
“You can come in.” Auston stepped aside and let Felix go. I walked into the house as he shut the door, greeting Felix with a high pitched hello and rubbing the dog’s ears while he padded his feet on the floor and wagged his tail endlessly.
“Somebody just got a hair cut.” I commented. “And he looks so handsome!”
“Thanks.” I looked up at Auston when he spoke, laughing at his sarcasm.
“You certainly look like you could use one too. Need me to cut it?” I offered, standing upright to pull at a lock of his brown hair. “It is getting a little long.”
“If you have time.” Auston shrugged. I could tell he was uncertain as to whether this was a quick stop or a full day visit.
“Well, Hudson’s having a sleep over with nan. So, if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t mind staying here tonight.” I smiled. “I’ll have all the time in the world then.” I watched him smile and nod, reaching for one of my hands.
“Yeah, yeah you can stay.” I was surprised when Auston pulled me into a hug, his entire body pressed against my own while his head fell against my shoulder. He was stressed. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was still about Hudson.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get this hair cut.”
Auston and I had been so busy, that we almost forgot how important it was to continue to nurture our own relationship. I couldn’t help the guilt I felt as I watched him walk up the steps, following at a safe pace behind. I missed him. The alone time, the childish nights of cuddling and making out. Even the failed dates we vowed to never go on again.
I followed Auston into the master bathroom, setting the toilet seat down while he got the shears and hair clippers out, as well as a squirt bottle. He made sure everything was functional and ready before turning to me with his comb in hand.
This had not been what I came over for, but I knew a bit of loving contact would loosen him up and hopefully cause him to be more open to the conversation we needed to have. I wanted to be on the same page with Auston before he and Hudson spoke again. Sure, Hudson had said he’d hated Auston before, and yes they had sorted that conflict out on their own. But this was a little bigger than that. Hudson had hit Auston’s insecurities right on the head and he didn’t even know it.
“Pop a squat.” I spoke, gently resting my hand on Auston’s hip and guiding him down onto the toilet. “What did you and Felix do today?” I created small talk as I combed through Auston’s smooth hair, glancing at his face occasionally to see his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips.
“We went for a walk. Hung out by the pool for a little while, planned his next playdate with Zeus. Oh! And I ordered him some new toys and treats for his birthday.”
“I forgot it was his birthday coming up. How old is he going to be?” Speaking of the dog, Auston and I both looked toward the door when his tags jingled. Felix sat in the doorway, dropping a ball on the floor and watching it bounce into the bathroom. Auston laughed. I had missed his happiness.
“Not now, buddy.” He spoke to his furry friend. “He’ll be turning five.”
“Five is a big number.” I teased softly, earning a laugh from Auston. I set his comb down after I finished using it, reaching for the bottle to begin spritzing his hair. Once I was sure it was well wetted, I swapped once again for the shears. “Hold still, okay?”
“Got it.” We sat in silence for close to five minutes before I watched Auston’s shoulders drop. Relaxed? Relieved?
“How are you feeling today?” My tone grew much softer, trying not to cause any discomfort. I watched Felix lay down in the doorway before I began to cut Auston’s hair.
“I guess I’m alright. Still a little shaken up.. about everything that’s happened, but I’m okay.”
“I spoke with Hudson last night. He was pretty upset about what he said to you.”
“I guess that’s good to hear.” Auston looked down at his hands. I sighed.
“You know how much he loves you, right? You are the first person on his mind every day.”
“Yeah, but-“
“No, Auston. Listen.. kids say things they don’t mean sometimes. They don’t have the best filters, or grasps on their emotions. And Hudson has never spent that long without seeing you before. It was a routine that got messed up, and for kids, routines are important. Routines are things they expect that they can trust to be consistent. This was a learning curve for everybody. He was anxious. He missed you, and it was hard for him to go to bed at night without hearing from you. He also doesn’t understand time.” I took Auston’s silence as a cue to go on. “Even if you did nothing wrong, he registered it as something wrong. It may take him some time to figure it out, but he still loves you, and once that consistency is restored, everything will be okay.”
Auston shuffled his feet slightly, nodding.
“I’m sorry I left last night.”
“Aus, a lot of shit happened last night. I didn’t expect you to stay. You’ve been so stressed, and I know that fight didn’t help at all. I’m just happy I can be here with you today.”
It was about fifteen more minutes before I finished cutting Auston’s hair. I set everything aside and grabbed a towel and a washcloth from his cabinet. “Why don’t you grab a shower, I’ll get you some clothes and we can go lay down for a bit.” I set the two towels down on the lip of the tub as Auston stood up. When I turned around, I came face to face with him.
“Thanks for being there,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper, hands landing on my hips. Our lips met briefly in a chaste kiss before I pulled away. “I’ll be fast,” he promised. I stepped out of the bathroom and pulled the door closed, fetching a fresh set of clothing from Auston’s dresser. I stepped back into the bathroom, placing the clothing on the counter top. Auston had already hopped into the shower, drawing the curtain back slightly to peek at me. 
“Wanna join?”
I pretended to consider the question before I sighed, as if I was plagued by saying yes.
“Fine, but only because I missed you, Matthews.”
“Awesome.” I watched the curtain fall closed, laughing softly to myself. I stripped down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I slid the engagement ring off my finger, placing it in the jewelry dish by the faucet. One Auston had purchased for days and nights spent at his place. I climbed into the shower, Auston’s hands swiftly finding my body. I helped wash his hair, and rubbed the muscles that were sore while Auston busied himself with every inch of me. His behavior left me giggling for most of the shower, and once the water was turned off, I ushered him out, following close behind. Auston grabbed the towel I had set out for him, wrapping up with a smile on his lips.
“Gotta keep you warm,” Auston spoke, going the extra mile to kneel down and dry my legs. I ran my hands through his fresh cut hair while he worked, smiling to myself at how kind he was.
“Alright, why don’t you get dressed, Aus? I’m gonna go grab some clothes.” I slid out of the bathroom, grabbing a makeshift outfit for myself, constructed of Auston’s clothing. I had things to wear at his place, but his stuff was so much more comfortable.
When Auston stepped out of the bathroom, our eyes met. It had been so long since we were able to spend any time alone. I watched his expression shift into a look of mischief before he rushed in my direction. A gasp escaped my lips when he hoisted me up over his shoulder.
“Auston!” I shouted at him, but it was in vain. I felt him lift me up once again before my back came into contact with his mattress. Then I heard Felix bark, and soon he had joined us for some fun. The fluffy dog hopped up onto the bed, and I was quick to sit up to avoid any unwanted kisses.
“You’re an ass,” I whined at Auston in a playful tone. He climbed up onto the bed and gently pushed me down onto my back once again. Felix tried to invade our fun, sniffing at both Auston and I, before Auston gently waved him off.
“It’s not nice to insult your significant others.” Auston spoke, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. He climbed off of me and up the bed, sitting down as I sat up. I joined him by the headboard, resting my hand beneath his jaw and bringing his lips to my own again.
“It’s not an insult. It’s a reality check,” I teased. Auston giggled softly, and I swore I could have heard him snort.
Auston laid down and settled his head in my lap. Felix approached with a wagging tail, sniffing at me, and my stomach, before laying down next to me.
“I missed you so much,” Auston whispered as his head came to rest atop my own. “I wish you and Hudson could have come to a game.”
“I know, it just wasn’t in the cards for us this time. It will be next time though.” Auston’s silence made me tense slightly.
“What if there isn’t a next time? What if we don’t make playoffs again?” I looked at him, brow furrowed.
“Whether there is or isn’t, Hudson and I will try to make every important milestone you reach. I can’t tell the future but I can tell you right now, that we love you very much, and we want to be there for you.” My words brought a smile to his lips.
“Thanks,” I pressed a kiss to Auston’s forehead. His eyes fell closed, sighing in comfort.
“Oh, and Hudson watched every one of your playoff games on the tv, just for the record.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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dellalyra · 5 months
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𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 - 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨
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2 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 - 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥.
pixie says: it’s here. this took so long because i was determined to get it just right, since this will be the final ‘pixie’s canon’ chapter of family formations (there will be more extra chapters and side stories, don’t worry! our fav family aren’t going anywhere yet). as always, mdni. request open.
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“Akio, baby! Come put your shoes on!” You call into the playroom where your almost 3-year-old son sits playing with his toys. He toddles out toward you, bright smile showing off his tiny pearly teeth and bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement. He sits on the floor and pulls his white and blue sneakers onto his feet (the wrong feet, but you’ll fix it for him). You try to comb the mess of his wild, snowy white hair into a bun but eventually resign yourself to the fact that taming it is impossible.
“Mama, we go party now?” He asks.
“Yeah, baby. We’re going to see Yuuta for his birthday! Are you excited?” You say, slipping on your own sneakers (they match your sons).
“So so excited! Will there be cake, mama?”
“Of course, there will, sweet boy! Okay, you ready? Yuuta’s present is in the car, let’s go.” You take his hand and load him and the bundle in your arms into your Land Rover. Your beautiful baby pink Cadillac sat in the garage, retired - it became a special occasion car after you realised the back seat couldn’t handle a car seat - an issue you never had with -
A thought you’d rather not go through with.
“Mama, Uncle soso be at party?” Akio asks from the back seat.
Of course - his focus is his beloved uncle soso. Not that you blame him.
“He will, baby. He’s expecting lots of cuddles.”
He squirms and squeals with excitement. Clingy, affectionate - just like his dad.
His father.
God, you miss him.
After a while of singing along to the music in the car, you pull up to the school. You spin yourself out of the driver’s seat and retrieve your son, the bundle, and the wrapped box from the back seat. He immediately runs off in the direction of the dorm common room kitchen without a second thought for his poor mother.
It’s okay though.
He’s safe.
He rounds a corner, and you see a pair of arms clad in black scoop him off the ground as he squeals and thrashes around, attempting to escape the iron hold of his captor’s arms.
“Lemme go! Lemme down!” He shrieks and giggles as raspberries are blown into his little belly.
“Never. You have been captured and the only way to be freed is if you tell me who your favourite person is.” The captor demands of the three-year-old.
“You! You, my favourite! Lemme down!” Akio giggles, now being held by the ankle's upside down.
“Well, you paid your ransom. Off you go - I gotta find my next target.” He sets the boy down and he immediately runs off, screaming for his uncle soso.
Then - the culprit sets his sights on you.
“Well, what do we have here? Hey there, pretty lady.” The man says.
“Hey handsome, come here often?” Your reply, batting your eyelashes.
“Oh, between 9am and 3pm on weekdays. You?” He smirks, flashing you a dazzling smile.
“Me too, but I have a few months off at the moment.” You wink.
“Explains why this place seems so dull without an angel like you to brighten it up.” He kisses the back of your hand.
“Well - I have more important things to be doing right now, I’m afraid pretty boy.” You smirk.
“Oh? What could be more important than working with a superstar like me?” He winks, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Well, nursing said superstar’s child for one.” You laugh.
And with that, your husband laughs. Heartily and deeply happy sounds which warm you from the inside. He bends down so he’s face level with your neck.
“Hey cupcake, you got a smile for papa?” He asks, taking the bundle from your arms.
The bundle - being your 5-month-old daughter.
The baby gurgles in delight at the sight of her dad and smiles a gummy smile - her mood elevated because of her well-timed nap in the car.
“You look beautiful, princess.” He says, kissing your forehead.
“Oh, hush you, you’ll make me blush.” You giggle, but you will admit the blue ripped mom jeans and white cable knit sweater match your husband perfectly, and you always glowed around him. As for him, he doesn’t understand how you get more beautiful every day. When he says your car pull up, and you step out of it holding his baby girl in one arm and leading his little boy with the other - he thinks back to the day he saw you in the courtyard for the first time, all smiles, and shiny eyes.
After 12 years, countless battles, many stray kids, too many heartbreaks and carrying two of his children you still manage to knock the wind out of him by just existing. The pretty girl you were now a powerful, beautiful woman and every curve and inch custom made to drive him insane, especially the view of your jeans as you bend to fix your shoe (part of the reason he’s knocked you up twice). Your strength and courage, and pure devotion to the ones you love, and fiercely bold protectiveness drive him to the brink of madness with the weight of his love for you daily.
You on the other hand, watch your husband pressing kisses to your daughter’s chubby cheeks, as he wraps his arm around your waist and leads you inside. This man, who has almost given everything to protect you all, who has gifted you with a love so pure and whole that you almost lost yourself by almost losing him - you are one person. One without the other just cannot exist, two souls meshed to create a fortress of love, warmth, and happiness. Your eyes trace his face, as otherworldly beautiful as ever, eyes crinkled with a smile at the baby in his arms. His hair but your eyes. You think he’s only gotten more beautiful since you met, all those boyish edges sharpened into those of a man - a beacon of love, and strength. Powerful muscles (part of the reason you now had two kids by him) threaten to pop through his black T-shirt and you attempt not to drool, but he catches it anyway. Smirking, and whispering filthy things about how your ass looks in your jeans making him wanna find a babysitter and skip the party to have your own. You flush and nip his jawline, a promise for more to come later.
Just as you nibble his skin, a loud shout comes from the doorway.
“Hey guys! How are you?! I know I only saw you both yesterday, but I missed you guys!”
A shock of pink hair calls out, and before he can barrel toward you is held back by his collar.
“Chill out, Yuuji. You don’t even know if the babies asleep or not.”
The ever-present raven-haired boy pops up behind him, lurking in the shadow as always.
Your eldest son, your blessing.
“Hi mom. Do you want me to take her?” He asks, and you can see the eager glint in his eyes as he stretches out his arms to Gojo who has your daughter which you know, in Megumi language, means ‘give me the baby or I’ll sulk.’
Gojo is engaged with cooing over her with Itadori who you’ve come to realise is obsessed with babies. Your husband hands your son your daughter, who’s sitting up in his arms, and squeals when she realises it’s her oldest brother holding her, and you melt a little when she lays her head on his shoulder.
“Hey Lil 'miss. Will we go find our brother?” He says, walking off with her and Yuuji, leaving Gojo to take your hand and lead you inside too.
Yuuji has grown, with him being 18 that’s not surprising. His baby face is fading, skin now lined with scars - battle scars well earned by a brave boy. He’s still not as tall as his boyfriend, but he somehow got even more broad and muscly, this was evidenced when he was helping you with the baby's nursery and just… picked up the crib. With one arm. Megumi soon insisted that he and Yuuji were tired and going to his room to ‘bed’ that night, after that show of casual strength.
Megumi - your darling boy, well, man. 18 now and tall and long limbed as ever, all sharp corners and piercing eyes. The months after the culling games were tough, on everyone. But Megumi - he suffered deeply. The mental scaring of almost killing his dad, hurting you and the torture of being trapped inside a psychopath for weeks on end - and most of all, of being in the body that killed his sister. You moved him and Yuuji back into your house, Nobara too because as much as she enjoyed her new relationship with Maki - she couldn’t sleep without knowing the boys were safe and near. She felt immeasurable guilt for not being with Yuuji and Megumi early in the Culling Games and for the injuries that Yuuji saw her almost succumb to. She spent most of her week at the cottage, and the other few days with her girlfriend - healing together.
On the really dark nights, you and Satoru would wake to pained sobs - sometimes Yuuji, who would wake thrashing, and sometimes Megumi would wake frozen in fear. Many nights, they would wake to the same noises from inside your own room. You two had each other, and you tried to stress the importance of relying on each other to all the kids. Recovery wasn’t linear, but it could be helped with love and care.
There were a few nights, you’d wake to being poked by Yuuji, a solemn look on his face and in turn you’d wake up Satoru, you’d nod to Yuuji who would leave the room and come back with a bundle of limbs in his arms. Some nights, Megumi would get so frozen with memories that all he wanted was to be with you and Satoru - so like you did when he was a little boy, you put him in between you both and fell back asleep. You always offered to Yuuji to stay, and sometimes he did - but most times he would go and curl up beside Nobara in her room. He knew Megumi was safe with you two, so he would stay with his platonic soulmate - ever the protector.
Satoru’s wounds healed, leaving scars, pink and shimmering on his pale skin which you took care to kiss every night, grateful for how hard he fought to come home to you.
Two weeks after Yuuji killed Kenjaku, and everything was over - you, Shoko, and Gojo all stood together on the plot of land behind the cottage, a nice, secluded space under a Sakura tree.
The earth was covered in snowdrops, a black marble slate sat on the ground, with gold lettering.
here sleeps suguru geto, our very best friend and deeply loved dad.
You all cried, the three of you the surviving members of your school years. Yet, a part of it was sweet. Finally, after all this time - Suguru was home. He was back where he belonged, the birthplace of the reformation of Jujutsu society, with his family, who wordlessly accepted him and his two girl's home – where he was happy before the darkness became too much.
You three built a bench beside the memorial that day too, with a smaller memorial sign for the twins, they never had a surname – so you wrote them as Nanako and Mimiko Geto. It had been years since you or Satoru had seen the girls, and even then, only Shoko knew about that day. The day you texted his number thinking it would be blocked, two weeks after the village massacre, and after he left Satoru outside of the KFC. You told him you had clothes, shoes, and toys for the girls. Satoru could not face him, so you went alone, a secret kept between you and Satoru and Shoko. You met him and the girls in a nice, quiet park. Most of them were things from when you were a child, collected from your mother’s house (you think she knew). You played with the girls for a while, looking at Suguru with pleading eyes as you introduced yourself to them as their Aunty Y/N - a sign to him that this could be fixed, he could come him – the elders could be dealt with. You knew it was a failure before you said it. If your boyfriend couldn’t bring him home, then you stood no chance. He smiled at you, sadly but thankful for the unspoken offer. The girls didn’t need to hear the anger or the truth. When it got dark, it was time to leave. You said goodbye. The final goodbye, and you knew it. You said ‘goodbye, onii-chan' and he responded in kind, then left. You did not see him again until that day in the alley.
Now, here, at the cottage; Shoko could sit for a smoke with him, Satoru could come to annoy him and so you could bring his nieces and nephews to say hello. Scattering his ashes by the cottage the family congregated within only felt right. You asked him to watch over you all.
There was no shortage of funerals after the war.
You, Satoru, Akio, and Megumi held a private memorial in your home for Tsumiki. There was no body to bury - so you set up a small garden of all her favourite flowers in the grounds of the cottage where you raised her, where she made flower crowns and played with her brother.
After that - was Nanami. You and Satoru and Yuuji warped to Malaysia after his cremation, to scatter his ashes on a quiet, secluded beach. You all drank a glass of whiskey on the beach before it was time to go home. After clearing out his apartment, you found a spare of his tie and folded it, placing it in a box with a pair of his glasses and his favourite whiskey glass - and you handed it to Yuuji. He was so deeply loved, by all of you - but Yuuji was his student, his prodigy.
It was decided that since most of the old Jujutsu Society was gone, it was time to restructure. Utahime took over Kyoto, Todo and Noritoshi now acting as teachers. In Tokyo, the job of principal was between you and Satoru. You quickly told him it should be him, without question, and you would become the lead teacher. Shoko was offered a teaching position but quickly scoffed at the notion, saying corpses were still more her style. You needed another teacher, apart from you and Yuuta, who was still training under you part time. So, you and Satoru mutually agreed that a perfect candidate was one Choso Kamo, who hastily agreed, happy to be able to stay close to his brother. Hakari would occasionally pop in, help out for days - and took over for you on maternity leave. Jujutsu society would change now. A complete restructure.
A reformation.
The new higher ups consisted of Satoru, you, Utahime, Noritoshi Kamo, Yuuta, Maki and Toge said he would step up the the plate in a few years time.
Everyone knew what happened to the old higher ups. Everyone knew who killed them.
Nobody sought retaliation.
Nobody mourned.
In the present, you stepped into the room decorated yesterday by you and Yuuji. A big banner with ‘Happy 20th Birthday!’ Was hung on the wall, with cakes and cupcakes and lots of snacks laid across the dining table. Music was playing from Maki’s speaker, who sat frowning, but letting Nobara place a party hat on her anyway. Panda is sneaking a cupcake in the back corner, and you pretend not to notice.
You look around the room, delighting in the sight of your husband and Yuuji blowing up balloons in a competition of who can get theirs the biggest (they both burst). Megumi is sitting beside them, smirk on his face as he lets his baby sister play with his long fingers and use them as a teething chew. You look around for Akio, who had sprinted inside to look for his ‘uncle soso.’ It didn’t take long to locate him, but it wasn’t by sight but rather by a delighted squeal and a giggle coming toward you.
“Mama! Uncle soso has sweeties! He say ask mama if I can share too?” A voice cries as it barrels into your leg.
You look toward the kitchen door and see a smiling Choso with a plate of mochi, looking fondly at the toddler on your leg.
“Okay, baby. Thank you for asking, and what do we say to Uncle Soso?” You say, picking him up to walk toward the favourite uncle.
“Tank you, uncle soso.” Your adorable little man says, holding his arms toward the man in signal of hoping to be transferred from your hip to his.
“You spoil that boy, Choso Kamo.” You say, not an ounce of anger in your voice.
“Maybe.” He smiles sheepish and shrugs, head peeking around your shoulder to look around.
“Are you looking for your goddaughter?” You ask.
“Where is she?” He perks up, and your reminded of a puppy hearing the word treat.
“Megumi has her. They’re with ‘toru and your brother.” You smile, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he walks toward the boys with Akio and the mochi in his arms.
A fatal mistake really.
He’s about to sit on a sofa with a plate of Mochi and two Gojo boys?
He won’t get any. But you think he’s okay with that.
After what you’ve come to call the war, Choso had become an indispensable part of the family. Loyal, kind, and caring - he fit in like a perfect puzzle piece. Easily making friends with Megumi (who he calls his brother-in-law), living easily as a comrade and trusted friend of your husband and easily melding into the baby brother you never had. Even though he’s about 120 years older than you.
When Akio arrived back in the country with your mother after the fighting had ceased, you and Satoru refused to let him out of your sight for weeks, Akio had protested but you had taken to having him sleep in your room until eventually you both felt safe enough to let the poor boy go back to his star-themed bedroom in peace.
That was until about 3am, when you woke up to the bedroom door opening and your husband coming in with a sleeping toddler in his arms. He needed him near, just like how he felt comforted by the soft snores coming from Megumi’s room. You said nothing, just smiled and scooted over so you wrap your little boy between you.
Megumi joined at 4am.
About 3 months after the final fight, you both put Akio to bed one night. Megumi had gone back to the dorms, recovering, and enjoying the idea of being just a student again. Satoru’s arm around your waist as you looked at his sleeping figure on his teddy bear print bedsheets. Wild white hair sticking in all directions a carbon copy of his dad.
“Princess?” He said, forehead on your hair.
“Yes, ‘toru.” You hoped he was going to say what you were also thinking.
“Let’s have another one.” He said, tilting your chin to look at him with those long fingers.
“Okay.” You smile and let him scoop you up and March you to your bedroom.
Six weeks later: there were two lines on the stick.
This time - Satoru hadn’t noticed. Maybe because his six eyes were still recovering, or maybe because the baby inside you had your cursed energy, so it just looked like yours. The day you did the test, you went to a bakery at lunchtime to grab some treats.
“I got some treats for breakfast tomorrow, since it’s a Saturday. Megumi is going out with Yuuji for breakfast, so he won’t be here.” You say, as Satoru comes back into the kitchen from putting Akio to bed.
You push the box toward him.
“Oh pastries! Are these mine?” He asks.
“Eh! No! There’s one each.” You laugh at him.
“Well then there’s two for me, because there’s four. One for Akio, one for you and two for me!” He claps.
“No, ‘toru. There’s one each.” You smile, wondering when he will catch on.
“But ‘Gumi won’t be here?” He asks, puzzled and eager.
“We still need four.” You smirk a little.
You see him frown and the cogs turn in his head? One for George the Cat? No…
His head snaps up.
“Wait! Princess…?” He takes the kitchen in one stride and kneels in front of you, and you nod, smiling.
“Really? You’re sure?” He asks, staring at your belly.
You think now is time for the best pun of your life. You reach into your pocket and take out the test.
“Positive.” You giggle, tears lining your lashes - and Satoru’s too.
He leans his head into your belly, tears soaking your shirt.
7 and a half months later, you went into labour during movie night. Megumi insisted on coming to the infirmary with you and Satoru in case anything happened. Yuuji and Nobara were on a mission, so you picked up your phone.
It barely rang once.
“Hey, Cho. We um… need a favour.” You speak.
“Is everyone alright?” The perpetually sleepy voice asks.
“Yeah, it’s just we need someone to watch Akio… I - um, well the baby’s coming.” You say, wincing through a contraction.
You all drive to the school, where Shoko is waiting to deliver your second child and Choso comes running out of his on-campus staff apartment, scooping up your son who was delighted at getting to see his Uncle Soso.
13 hours later, there was life.
New life. A beautiful, vibrant, fresh life. A beautiful little girl, perfect and tiny with a shock of pale white hair.
She cried. You cried. Satoru cried. Shoko cried.
Megumi went to collect Akio, and you asked him to bring Choso too after you and the baby were both cleaned up.
The toddler barrelled into the room, Megumi behind him.
“Baby sister! Baby sister! I want my baby sister! Oh, hi mama and papa, move - I want to see sister.” He mumbles - mind singularly focused on what he had been waiting for.
You laughed, and Satoru too. Megumi shrugged, after planting a kiss on your cheek and asking if you were okay (still a mama’s boy even at 18).
“It’s a joint sentiment.” Your eldest agrees with the bouncing toddler.
You scoot over on the bed, and Satoru (teary eyed) places a bundle into your arms. Megumi gingerly sits beside you on one side, and Satoru scoops Akio onto his lap on your other side.
“Boys, we’d like you to meet your baby sister. This - is Mirai.” You smile at them, both looking equally entranced.
“She’s… so tiny, and so pretty.” Megumi whispers.
“Papa - is she sleepin’?” Akio whispers.
As if on cue, the baby opens her eyes.
Akio gasps, looking to his dad for permission to get closer. Satoru nods with a note to be gentle with sister and mama. Your usually boisterous boy crawls to sit on your lap, putting his hand on his sisters.
“Hi baby sister.” He whispers. “I brother. Big brother. Like ‘Gumi my big brother. I keep baby sister safe, and will play with you, and let you have snacks and give you hugs and kisses. I Akio, but mama and papa call me Kio lots. They all things that ‘Gumi and Uncle soso say big brother do, and they are bestest big brothers to me and Jiji. (The name he has for Yuuji, who adores it).’
Holding your little girl in your arms, with all three of your boys looking at you both with so much love - you think that everything was worth it. For this moment, for this feeling and for this family. Every wound, every fight - it was for them. Everyone you lost, you know they’re looking at you all now from wherever they are and smiling and vowing to keep this family safe.
“Is Choso here?” You ask Megumi who has gingerly been passed the baby by Satoru.
“He’s outside, he wanted to wait until he was invited in.” He whispers, not sparing a glance at anything but his little sister.
You turn to Satoru, who nods and goes to open the door and usher the other man in.
You both placed the highest level of trust in Choso. Satoru being eternally grateful to the man for holding you back from running to his injured body when he fought Sukuna, for caring for Yuuji in his darkest days, for being a pillar of strength and support when you both needed it. For you, you felt like the support and friendship, and recognition as Y/N and Satoru that Choso gave you - not just the Six Eyes and the Dryad - was priceless. Plus - he’d never seen a newborn baby. He didn’t even know how babies were born. You and Satoru had to teach him a lot.
“Hi Choso. Thank you for minding this little squirt.” You say, nodding to Akio.
Choso just stood, speechless and slack jawed.
It reminded you of Yuuji when you first showed him an ultrasound of Akio.
Brothers.
“Uncle soso - this is baby sister! Look! She has fingers!” Akio says, crawling across you to point at the baby in Megumi’s arms.
He says nothing.
“D’ya wanna hold her, bud?” Satoru says, smiling at the dumbfounded man.
He just nods.
“Okay - arms out, keep her head secure.” Megumi says side eye and smirk to Satoru as he parrots the words his dad said to him when Akio was born.
The little girl is placed in Choso’s arms.
“She’s… so small.” He speaks.
“Takes after her mama.” Satoru says, kissing your head.
“Everyone is small to you, Jack the beanstalk.” You roll your eyes.
That day, you asked Yuuta and Choso to both be Mirai’s Godfathers. Choso silently took on the uncle role with Akio too - who had lost his own godfather not so long ago, his beloved Uncle Nanamin.
The door to the party room opened, too early to be the birthday boy and the sound of heels clicking alerted you to snap your head up.
“Koko!” You say, running and throwing your arms around you best friend.
“Jesus, you’re almost as bad as Sator - OOF.” Her complaint was quickly cut off by a white haired, 6ft5 man barrelling into her and shouting ‘Yay, Shoko!’ and no less than 5 seconds later her knees were encircled by smaller arms attached to a boy shouting ‘Aunty Koko!’.
Shoko resigns herself to being smothered by the Gojo’s and just huffs a hello.
“Mirai, Megs, you’re the best of the bunch.” She shrugs toward Megumi who’s still holding the baby.
“We love Aunty Koko! Don’t we, ‘kio?!” You and Satoru encourage.
“Aunty Koko!” He parrots, nuzzling her legs as she ruffles his hair.
“Alright kid, I love you too. Satoru, put this on the table.” She says, unceremoniously throwing a box terribly wrapped toward him.
She plonks down on the sofa with Megumi and Choso.
“What’s this, the emo convention?” She smirks and you, Satoru and Yuuji just burst out in hysterical laughter.
Nobara’s voice calls out.
“Guys! They’re here, they’re just pulling up now. Gojo-sensei, find somewhere to hide that you can fit!” She frantically shouts, dragging Maki into a corner with her.
You grab Megumi and Mirai, falling behind the kitchen door where Akio is in Satoru’s arms, both giggling.
The lights are turned off, and you can hear voices muffled from outside the door before it swings open.
“SURPRISE!” You all shout and sing, much to the alarm of the birthday boy who also screams.
“Oh my god! What is this?! What are you all doing here?! Toge, did you know about this?” Yuuta spills.
Toge just shrugs and smirks.
“Happy birthday, Senpai!” Says Yuuji, before almost breaking every bone in Yuuta’s body with a crushing hug.
“Happy birthday, Okkotsu.” Megumi nods, with a small smile and a bro hug.
“Happy birthday, shrimp.” Maki says, hugging her best friend.
“Happy birthday, Okkotsu! Your gifts are on the table!” From Nobara.
You, Satoru, the kids, Shoko and Choso watch as all the students clamour to greet the birthday boy before he somehow manages to make his way over to you all as Yuuji begins to dish out the immeasurable amount of food he’s made for the occasion.
“Sensei? Y/N? The babies too?! Hi babies!” He greets with a wide smile.
“Happy birthday, Yuuta!” Gojo says, wrapping him in a hug and picking him up off the ground.
“Happy 20th, honey.” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Happy birthday Yuuta!” Says Akio from Choso’s arms, where he doesn’t stay for long as he launches himself at Yuuta.
Mirai is babbling in your arms, and you presume she shares the sentiment of her big brother being an eerie mixture of her parents,
“Happy birthday, kid. Enjoy your 20s.” Shoko says, with a wink.
“Thank you, guys, this is amazing. I went to the arcade with Toge and I thought that would be that no wonder he insisted on playing more dance dance revolution!” He laughed.
After cakes had been eaten and candles blown out, gifts unwrapped and games won - everyone was sat around the room, about to watch a film.
Mirai was asleep on her dad’s chest, curled up with his arm supporting her. You were tucked into his other side, as he pressed kisses into the crown of your head. Megumi had his arm around Yuuji on your other side as he lay his feet on your lap. Nobara and Maki were cuddled up on the armchair, with Toge resting his head on Yuuta’s lap on the floor below. Akio had insisted on sitting with Uncle Soso and Aunty Koko on one of the other sofas, as he ate some cake.
You sighed and smiled, looking at the raven-haired boy, now all grown up on your left - happy, healing, safe and in love. He’s a man now, he’ll be 19 in just under a year and you find it crazy to think that was the age you and Satoru were when you adopted him and Tsumiki.
You look at Akio, curled into a blanket between his aunt and uncle, Shoko on the verge of sleep and Choso smiling at whatever nonsense Yuuji was talking. Your youngest son, your sweet copy of Satoru. You say all the best parts of you both in him, all bravery and kindness and endless love with added strength and loyalty, and every inch as clever as his elder brother too. His Snow White hair is long, tied in a little bun on top of his head and his bright, shiny blue eyes a copy and paste of his dad’s.
Then, there’s your little girl. The life brought into this world reigniting hope and joy in so many lives. The fruit of what you all fought for. Her chubby cheeks, rosy with teething snuggles into her father’s broad, strong chest as she drools all over him as she sleeps soundly. Where Akio is a Mama’s boy, Mirai is her papa’s girl. Her white curls are framing her perfect little face, with matching lashes laying across her sleeping face.
Then, there’s him.
Akio and Miria’s papa.
Megumi and Tsumiki’s adopted dad.
The new principal of Jujutsu High.
The man who shouldered the world for love.
Your husband.
Your soulmate.
Your ‘toru.
The light, love, and joy in your life since you were 16 years old. The man who you fall deeper in love with every day and the second part of your soul. Your heart, your lover, the fire in your veins. Two adopted kids, many unofficial kids and two copies of you both later, you’re both still here. Fighting your way to each other and for each other, and side by side building bonds deeper than gold. The sexiest, most beautiful man you have ever imagined existing. The love of your life. The way he looks at you, still flusters you.
You catch his eyes. 14 years, and a lifetime more.
He looks at you. His wife, his best friend, the missing piece of his heart. The most beautiful, hottest girl he’s ever seen with all his six eyes, the mother of his children and his right-hand woman. His rock, his crutch, his confidant and partner in crime. The woman he would shoulder the earth for. The new main teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. His love grows every day for you, something he didn’t think was possible. His princess.
You whisper you love him.
He replies he loves you too.
You were all chatting as the movie loaded, waiting for it to buffer.
“When the fuck is movie starting?!” Came a tiny voice.
All heads snapped to Akio, hands on his hips, staring at the screen.
“Who taught our son to swear?” Gojo breathes, holding back a laugh.
“Fuck’s sake.” You mutter, smiling - without thinking.
“Fuck’s sake.” Akio mimics.
“Ah, shit.” Gojo groans.
“Shit.” Parrots the toddler.
“Well, jury’s out but I think it might have been his parents.” Megumi smirks.
The room bursts into raucous laughter, and amidst it all the movie starts.
It serves as background noise, a lullaby, a point of focus. A family made of many mismatched pieces - a pool of trust, of reliance, of hope and comfort - created and moulded in the image of a couple, of two sides of one coin, two halves of one whole: her ‘toru. His Princess.
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kaiyaamin · 3 months
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Hi! I really enjoy your stories! I was wondering if you could write a batfam x batmom reader story about the boys (not including bruce) getting magically age reversed (i.e. dick becomes damian's age, damian becomes Dick's age, and Jason and Tim swap ages) and the 4 of them getting into shenanigans and chaos. And Batmom teasing and coddling them.
This sounds amazing, and sorry it took so long to post but I was writing it and my computer started resetting and it did not save this draft so I had to start over.
WHAT HAPPENED!!!
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Bruce decided to take his kids to the Justice League hall, where he was showing them the Machine Hall which was VERY DANGEROUS. During the middle of the tour, there was an emergency alert, deciding to leave his kids in said dangerous room but why not.
"Jason, don't touch that Dad said it's dangerous", said Dick was already tired of Jason's shenanigans, and playing pranks on everyone. "Quit being such a buzzkill, and have fun no adults are around", Jason said in a playful tone. Jason was very unserious sometimes but when he's mad he will kill you. "You know Jason, you don't act very mature for an Adult and BTW there are adults around you and Dick", Tim was the smart one always pointing out his brother's mistakes in a not-so-kind way. Damian just stood there glaring at his brother fighting like little children.
"Oh what, touching a machine is going to get us killed", said Jason. "I hope it kills you first", Damian said. But It was too late for Jason had touched the machine despite Dick's warning.
Suddenly a bright light blinded the boys. AHHHHHH, screamed the boys, The bright light dimmed down and the boys saw each other but of different ages. Dick and Damian's ages were switched so Dick was 12 and Damian was 25. So was Jason and Tim, Jason was 17 and Tim was 23.
The boys were freaking out, trying hard to comprehend the situation. Damian started to immediately blame Jason for this while Dick was trying to calm himself down from having a panic attack. Lastly, Tim wasn't that affected and went looking at the machine Jason touched. "Hey guys look at this" Stated Tim when the boys looked at where Tim was pointing They realized... "Jason you Idiot you touch an age switch Machine", said Dick. "Aww shit, I didn't think this would happen," said Jason. "No fucking duh Jason, if you knew this would not have happened," Damian said while hitting Jason on the back of his head.
Bruce later found out with a panic attack and was scared of how he would tell his wife this happened under his care. But he also grounded Jason for 1 month again.
Timeskip to the manor
hey kids..... was the first thing Batmom had said before seeing her kids not looking like her kids. WHAT HAPPENED? Her Dick looks so young and cute and her Dami looks so tall and mature, Jason looks like a teenager and Tim seemed well older.
Mom we can explain, Dick said and explained the whole situation of what happened because of Jason's stupidity. Well, where was your father when this happened? What Tim had told her was not the answer she wanted. You left the kids alone in a dangerous machine room, Batmom continued scolding Bruce and her kids for this misfortune but internally screaming about how cute her kids looked.
No matter how hard she tried, she absolutely adored Dick and Jason, for it reminded her when they were young. And then she started crying with Tim and Damian feeling sad they had grown up so tall and handsome even though they were still the same by heart externally they looked different.
DICK
Being a 12-year-old was not as bad as he thought or so he thought. His mother became even more protective watching his every move and she refused to let him go whenever they hugged each other. Mom, you have to let me go, NO!, his mother shouted. But...Mom, I can't breathe. Then breathe later.
During this chaos, he found out he had to go to school, don't ask why. The whole day was torture I mean who wants to go to school after already graduating not Dick, to make matters worse he had to hang out with Jon. He was the only kid he knew and he didn't want to socialize with kids younger than him.
Curfew for patroling was a lot different since he was 12, he had to be home at 10:00 and he couldn't go anywhere without an escort because he was too "young" to drive.
And even the Titans made fun of his appearance, I mean their brave and powerful leader was a 12-year-old and a short one. Can you guys just help me! Dick shouted in anger. No, can do, not until we finished laughing at how short you are, kon said laughing at Dick who couldn't even reach the high cabinets.
JASON
Jason, honey what are you doing? you need to get up, his mother said in her usual calm voice. here he was lying in his bed with nothing to do, it was only 7:30 am. Why, I have nothing going on. Didn't I tell you, you're going to school to collect Tim's work so he can complete it at home, Batmom said while opening his blinds. But Mama...No buts get up and get ready for school. Jason was not happy and grumbled the whole time getting ready for school.
Jason was getting ready for patrol putting on his suit and wishing his Mama goodbye. Before she told him the horrible news, He had a curfew. His mother used the excuse that growing boys needed energy and he had school in the morning. Mom, please I don't need a curfew I am fine. No, and that's final Jason, his mother said in a stern voice.
good news He could drive and hang out unlike Dick who needed to be escorted when driving, Man did Jason crack up and tease Dick. HA, you can't drive what a loser, Dick was not happy and vowed he would get Jason back.
With Jason's curfews, he had to sneak out but lucky for him, he had done it so many times. The only problem is his mama was watching him like a hawk, but when everyone was asleep he decided to climb out of his window. Only to be stopped by the infamous Batmom and her sidekick Batman, grounding him for another month. Hey mom, how did you know I was sneaking out and where I would be? hmm, Dick told me. Damn it, Jason said cursing under his breath passing by a laughing Dick when coming upstairs towards his room.
TIM
was Tim happy? Yes, yes he was. Switching ages with Jason seemed bad but it turned out good when he found out he didn't have to go to school, he had the whole day to himself. While Jason had to go to his school and get all his assessments, It was good because it only took him an hour to complete the work Jason gave him.
First thing first, He explained to Stephanie what happened after she accidentally came to the manor expecting to see her boyfriend but instead saw a tall, handsome adult-like Tim. It took some time for her to cope with what happened but after she was furious with Jason. After he came back from school she hit him with her slipper right in the face. OWWWW what Hell Stephanie! why did you hurt me, Jason said in shock. You turned my boyfriend into well this, Stephanie said with her hands still griping the slipper. MOM, why are you standing there, do something! but to Jason's surprise, his mother did nothing and instead told him, he deserved it.
Tim had no curfew which meant rubbing it in his brother's face. HAHA, Damian and Tim both laughed at Dick and Jason going home from patrols while they get to stay. Shut up, both of them grumbled not liking the feeling of being teased. Since Tim was legally an adult, why not have alcohol, after one glass of wine he got drunk. HEy GUyS, LoOK at ME I aM a BAnANa, Then proceeded to start crying when Titanic came on, NOOOOO, HOw COuLd JAcK DIe!!! while the whole Bat-family saw this, well now we know he has no alcohol tolerance said Dick, with Jason and his mother laughing their asses off. Damian looked at his father to say something only for him to be astonished, trying to find the proper words only for nothing to come out. And Alfred gets Tim some tissues and water.
DAMIAN
Damian hated everything and everyone except for his mother of course. He Knew from the beginning this was bad and turns out he was right it was chaos.
Damian didn't do anything different except now he can drive legally, he could drive before but wasn't allowed for you know only being 12. He used this opportunity to get away from his crazy family.
Damian still hang out with Jon when he was out of school and gossiped about Dick and how he was at school, it was hilarious. Though Dick was not happy about it.
Unlike Tim, Damian had a high alcohol tolerance. Dami, you are surprisingly good at drinking and not getting drunk easily, have you drunk before? No, Ummi..... but could not continue, how could he lie to his Ummi so he told the truth. Yes, Ummi I already had my first drink. WAIT, WITH WHO? said Batmom in a shout, ready to throw someone out the window. With Dad, and that was not the answer she was looking for. BRUCEEEEE!!!!, screamed Batmom. Yes honey, Bruce said panting. Did you take Damian to have his first drink? Umm oh no is that the Joker breaking into the bank again. Oh No better stop him bye, and with that, he left like he was Flash already out the door. And to say the least, Batmom was not happy.
Time skip after 3 days
Some random mad scientist Bruce found on the black market reversed the kid's ages. Dick was 25, Jason was 23, Tim was 17 and Damian was 12.
Everything was back to normal, SIKE. Batmom punished everyone in the manor except for Alfred of course for all the things they did when reversed. Bruce was grounded and sleeping on the couch leaving the kids alone in a Dangerous machine room and keeping the fact that Damian had his first drink.
Batmom was so happy but still sad. Of course, she's happy her kids are back to normal but her two eldest had to leave to go back to their house, it was heartbreaking. So to make their mom feel better they did Family Game Night 😉.
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livwritesstuff · 22 days
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I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.
Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.
But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.
In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.
Not that Moe knows any of this.
All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.
Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.
Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.
And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).
They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.
Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.
The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.
Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.
That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.
They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).
“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.
He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”
And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.
Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.
Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?
Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.
“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”
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feelbokkie · 7 months
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Things SKZ does when you're pregnant
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☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️
genre: fluff
pov: 2nd person
description: just cute things skz would do while you are pregnant
pairing: bf!skz x reader with a uterus
warnings: swearing
word count: 1,021 (unedited)
©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
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방 찬 (Bang Chan)
Plays Music for Your Bump
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he bought one of those headphone sets that you can use to put on baby bumps the second he found out they existed
it's basically a Channie's room (rip Channie's room)
he's prescreening all the songs beforehand though
got to make sure they're baby appropriate
plays a few skz songs
red lights and drive are hard passes
plays a wide variety of music
he's trying to create a musical genius at this point
with his genes, it's very much possible that this might happen
takes the baby's suggestions every seriously
"The baby kicked," "They must really love this song," "Or they hate it," "...Hey, if you like the song, kick. If you hate the song, stay still!" "Chan, don't confuse the child." "Hey, maybe they're a dancer like their uncles."
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이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)
Making All of the Food You're Craving
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yes, even the bat shit insane ones like pickles and peanut butter
he knows that it's 50% his fault that you're hungry and want specific things and that you're doing 100% of the work so the least he could do was make you what you and the parasite baby want to eat
the first time he did it, you were talking to yourself about something you were craving, not thinking he was paying attention
you were debating if you should order it or go out and buy some and take it home
he immediately went into the kitchen and made it without a second thought once he realized that you were probably craving it because of the baby
he came back some time later and just placed the food in your lap
you legit cried
blame the hormones
one time you asked him directly make you something and he jokingly said no
you cried again and he felt so bad that he made it and got your favorite dessert
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서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)
Lifts Your Bump
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definitely feels guilty and responsible for you being in this situation
i mean he partly is to blame but you were there too
so he will constantly just come up behind you and lift up your bump to get your back a break
and he'll stay there for a while
and if you two go to the beach for whatever reason, the first thing he's doing is digging a bump shaped hole so you can lay on your stomach comfortably
buys that bump comfort tape and helps you tape your stomach to give you some relief throughout the day while he's out working
did research to make sure he was doing it safely of course, he doesn't want to hurt you or the baby
helps you do some exercises and stretches to ease your pain too
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황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)
Paints You and Your Bump
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the second he found out that you were pregnant, he got several ideas of things to paint on your stomach
started earlier than he probably should have
but when you started getting bigger and more self-conscious, he decided to paint a portrait of you and your bump
and he makes you look like some sort of angel or divine being
you almost don't believe that he painted you
hangs it where he knows you'll see it often
greatly boosts your confidence
will also play on it constantly
"how are my muses doing today?"
also paints a mural in the baby's room in his free time because he can
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한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)
Tells Your Bump Stories
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more specifically, he's giving the baby a detailed play-by-play of whatever show he's currently watching
you bought one of those mics you can attach to your stomach so you could talk to the baby and it is almost always in his hands
"...and their dad is kind of an asshole--you don't have to worry about that, your dad is cool as fuck" "Jisung, language," "if we normalize swearing when they're young, we won't have to worry about them having the mouth of a sailor like Felix. I read it in a book" "...I don't think they mean while the baby is still in the womb,"
reads them them manga too
if he's watching tv and you're sitting next to him, he's pulling out the mic and narrating everything that's on the screen
will sing every once in a while, have to prepare the baby for the rest of their life now so they're not shocked once they're born
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이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)
Massages and Foot Rubs
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he massages you and gives you foot rubs anyway, especially if you ask for them
but when you told him you were pregnant, one of the first things he did was research how to safely massage you
secretly practiced on the boys so he wouldn't hurt you or the baby until he was confident enough to massage you
still was nervous to actually massage you
rubs your feet more often than the rest of you because it's safer
once you're towards the end of your pregnancy and increasingly uncomfortable from all the added weight you're carrying, he gets over his fears and massages you to give you some relief
Will cuddle you after too while resting his head on your bump
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김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)
Talking and Singing to Your Bump
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this man has been talking to his baby the second he learned that their ears are fully developed
and he's talking to them like a normal person, not baby talk
full conversations too
he'll come home for a long day of work and come tell both of you about his day
often comes and lays his head on your bump and sings to it
just little songs mostly
also sang songs in his JYP voice because why not
whenever you express discomfort, he is lecturing the poor unborn child
"Seungmin, they're not even born yet." "Y/n, please, I am having a private conversation." "Sorry, my bad."
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양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)
Weekly Progress Shots with Your Bump
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mostly, he's having fun taking pictures of how much you're growing each month
every week without fail he is pulling out the camera and harassing you to take the picture
will style you and get props so you can have fun with it
one of the more common props is whatever food item the baby is the same size as
makes a video with all of the pictures and finishes it with the last photo of you holding the baby where the bump was
he's already planning the baby's month photoshoots
Buy me a coffee?
Permanent Taglist
Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)
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argreion · 10 days
Note
Can i request some more girl dad Leon, or some hcs regarding this? I just love domestic fluff with Leon ughhh i love him :((((
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Thank you for sending a ask wonderful anon! (Didn’t expect an anon to ask THIS fast!)
So, I know that what I wrote was subpar, considering it was one of the first times I ever wrote in general. Should expand on what we've seen, y'know?
Apologies if the drabble is a bit iffy with pacing. I feel a little out of place amongst writers due to like... How I write. That feels weird to say- 😭
· · · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · · · ·
Girl Dad Leon! headcanons and a drabble!
· · · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · · · ·
I'll start with the first thing I can see. The dressing up.
❀ He will occasionally dress up for his daughter. Leon curses himself out in his head, as he'd forced you to help him. Tighten the built-in corset, help him with his hair, and please... Don't make him wear heels!
❀ First, it would be a Disney princess, then once he has to deal with Barbie? Or a superhero? Superman? Batman? Spider-Man? Man, he's finally out. He draws the line at a princess, unless the puppy eyes and crying are used against him.
❀ Fine! He finally caved in, with an annoyed, defeated sigh. The outfit is bought on Amazon, amidst your bickering for him to not buy something off eBay. (Look, he's sorry, ok? He may get a decent sum of money each paycheck. Leon is relatively cheap, or looking for a bargain. Blame the kid in him for wanting to save money!)
❀ The only reason he does it is that he loves his daughter, ok!? Maybe you compliment or tease him on being saved by a 'hero', but that doesn't matter! At the end of the day, he doesn't mind as he's forced to save your daughter from one of her stuffies.
Saving another civilian (or being a princess for your child) is a good deed to him. Something else he looks forward to every day, even with the aches in his bones, bruises on his body, and constant doctor visits.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Next are a few other things I have to add on this subject because I do see Leon as a dad who has a daughter AND a son. This is just purely if he has a daughter, so don't mind that. Fluffy stupidity up ahead!
❀ Make-up. Make-up. Make-up. Let's be honest, who hasn't played with make-up a bit when they were a little girl? His daughter has certainly got into a few places she shouldn't! Dabble a little sparkly blue eyeshadow on her dad's eyelids. Smudge some highly pigmented red on Daddy's lips. Isn't he beautiful, mama? Looks like he came out of the circus? Yep, that's the make-up for ya!
❀ Stickers on his motorcycle... Stickers on his helmet. Wears them with pride on his helmet. Even if the laughs of his co-workers, Hunnigan at some points, and Chris! He'd punch Chris if he could, but he can't let his daughter see daddy 'roughhousing' with his friend. Sends his daughter after Chris as revenge for laughing at him. Still the favorite thing of his daughter in general. He'd purposefully buy stickers and let her stick them on anything of his. No guns, though, no guns.
❀ Will sneak a little treat for his daughter before dinner. Shhh, don't tell your mom, ok? He'll probably get hounded for it, and we both know he's a sucker for the two girls in his life. It's a Daddy-Daughter secret, m'kay?
❀ BEDTIME STORIES? Any day that Leon is there and not on a mission, Leon will take his time to read a bedtime story. His favorite is his daughter's favorite because it brings her the most joy! Anything that makes his daughter happy he'll note in the back of his mind. Has fallen asleep with his daughter. (Take a picture and keep it, but also send it to Leon. He'll want it for memories.)
Now for the small thought in my head...
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
How many years had it been since you and Leon went on vacation? Going down to the Bahamas like every rich American did. Or every stressed, overworked dad suggested with a maniacal look on their face. This time, it wouldn't be the two of you. A plus one which was your daughter joined the pair of you. Joined you on the plane to Italy, and in the very Gelateria you stood in with Leon.
It was nice to get away from the smog filled city and the screams of fighting couples. Being able to appreciate the view of the nearby bridge and the welcoming ambience of another country. Asides from avoiding the scams and having to chase down a toddler once or twice... It was nice!
Your daughter was pointing out the window with babbles of joy. Leon was using his mother language as he paid for the gelato for the trio of you. Keeping your daughter beside you was fairly easy, as she waited for a sweet treat. How you wish minutes ago she wasn't screaming, and the only way a kid calms down is with something sweet.
So, why not let your child taste your home country?
“Grazie ancora una volta.” Leon thanked, followed with a small nod as he made his way through the small line towards the pair of you. A smile on his face as a scheme was brought into play. Well, not exactly a scheme—more so just being an ass.
While you pay attention outside the window, an unknown presence crept up behind you. The use of military training in his favor as you spoke with your daughter,
“What do you think of Italy so far?” You questioned, looking down at her. Gently squeezing her hand as she hummed.
The little girl replied, not turning her head from the window. Pointer's finger pressed to the cold glass, leaving a faint smudge as you gently tugged her away. “Daddy said this place was cool when he lived here. Right now, it's just really hot.” She looked up at you, her brows furrowed. “Are you sure daddy was right that this place is cool?”
A response fell dead right on your lips as the feeling of frigidness gently touched your cheek. Your reaction time was slow as a small chuckle came from Leon's lips.
“It'll be cooler with these, bambola.”
Why'd you groan? At the cheesiness or the joke that only managed to make your daughter squeal. Already moving away to go after her father. Like the cookie monster but instead for the sister of ice cream.
You brushed the small bit of gelato off your cheek. A hint of annoyance now bubbling in your system as you brought it to your lips. Trying the flavor that seemed to please you. Silky
“What's this?” You asked, meeting Leon's gaze as he heard the question. The dad is already in the process of handing the small gelato cone off to his daughter.
“It's gelato?” Leon confusingly answered. “I tho-”
“No, no, what's the flavor?”
Was he that forgetful? He lets himself choose the flavors and doesn't even think to tell you? It made you slightly regret even getting with him at this point. Maybe you should've sat down with him to talk about his memory. Not that he'd remember that, anyway.
“It's uh, Cream Caramel. Reminds me of when I was young.”
Leon smiled, with the slight tilt of his hand, as he responded with a more detailed answer. One of the traits you grew to hate and love as he answered. The gelato slowly slid off until...
“Merda!”
Jumping at the loud cuss of your daughter, eyes wide as you snapped your neck to stare at her. Her eyes meeting her father's gelato on the cold, lonely floor. Why were you almost cackling? Leon was staring at the gelato, and you were barely holding in your laugh?
“Where'd you learn that, sweetie?” Leon asked, forcing a smile on his face as a small part of him died on the inside. Brain wanting to cry as he accepted the fact his childhood fell down onto the floor.
Your daughter paused, frozen. Mimicking the statues from earlier as you toured Florence.
“D-dad.” Was the only thing she squeaked out.
When she said that, regret was the only thing that could describe the two of you meeting eyes. One for the fact they let Leon cuss near their child. The other for even saying it.
He knew he should've stuck to overtime as he realized the fuck-up he did.
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Writer Gods from above, please don't end my soul for not writing for a month. 🙏
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webslingingslasher · 1 month
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can u tell us more ab peters first time? or is that a secret😢
how about his first kiss? :’))))
peter's first time will be in the cherry series. (described)
first kiss? yeah, i gotchu.
your fingers tap on peter's skin, his chest is slightly sticky from dried sweat. 'when did you have your first kiss?'
his thumbs graze down your arms, 'first kiss or first real kiss?' you lightly kiss his bicep, 'both?' peter takes a deep breath as he retells the story, you close your eyes and try to picture it yourself.
'i was in the fifth grade and i had this wicked crush on julie thompson. somehow her friends found out and told her and she met me at the bus stop after school, and i thought i was hot shit because her dad always picked her up- but she told me that she could 'obviously' never date me-'
julie thompson was a fifth grader and you'd beat her ass.
'but she was very flattered and said she had something for me. she told me to close my eyes and i was expecting like a note or something but nope, she kissed me.' you can hear the smile in his voice when he says it. you don't blame him, it's a mostly cute story and it's juvenile.
'then she told me that i would always be her first kiss but i could never tell anybody. i never did. well, until right now. and my first real kiss was in high school, her name was lauren gravy- yes, i said gravy- and she was in the marching band. she asked if i wanted to see something she learned at bandcamp over the summer and i said sure and she fucking stuck her tongue down my throat. i was so scared.'
'you were scared?' you can't help the small fit of laughter. peter clicks his tongue, 'no, c'mere.' peter not so nicely cups your face and tugs it to his, 'wanna see something i learned at band camp?' he's reenacting it.
'sure.' you make a muffled scream and smack his shoulder, he's not exaggerating, it is scary. 'yeah, not so funny now, is it?'
'was she at least hot?'
peter nods confidently. 'fucking smoke show. but i never went around her again. i hope she got better at it.' well, if all he had to go off of was a pity kiss and a slobbery one he became pretty damn good at it.
'how'd you get so good at kissing?'
peter snorts, 'cause i had a girlfr-' peter catches himself, 'cause i had a girl teach me. some other girl from high school, nothing important.'
'my first kiss was brad allen and he was missing a front tooth. he ditched me on our first date for a pig farmers daughter.'
'that's so bold of you to share. you wouldn't be able to boil that information out of me.'
'he lost it playing lacrosse but his dad was a dentist so i don't know why he never got it fixed.' peter pushes your head back down to his chest. 'i think we should take a nap.'
'if you lost a front tooth i'd still kiss you.'
'can't hear you. i'm sleeping.' 
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specialagentlokitty · 2 months
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Negan x teen!reader - friends become family
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can you writes more depressed reader x rick/negan i reader your other work and i just loved them <3 - anon💜
TW: mentions of depression, thoughts of wanting to disappear and self harm
This wasn’t the world you were born into, this was the life you thought you were going to have when you grew up.
You were born into this world, maybe you should have been used to it, but your parents always told you that it wasn’t going to last forever.
They told you stories about the old world, what it was like, and promised you that it was going to go right back to that.
Then the world tore them from you, right in front of your own eyes, and it left you all alone until Gabriel and Aaron stumbled across you and brought you back to Alexandria with them.
But it wasn’t home.
Nowhere was home anymore, despite how much they tried to connect with you, make you feel at home, it just wasn’t home and it never would be.
You spent most of your time trying to find a place to hide from them, they always found you, and you remembered the one place Michonne told you to stay away from.
The cell block, warning you to never go in there.
You made your way down the steps and knelt down by the door, quietly picking the lock and you pushed it open before slipping inside.
Closing the door, you turned around and walked over to the corner, sitting down.
“Well, not that I’m not thankful for the company but I get the feeling since you picked that lock you shouldn’t be in here.”
You looked up, finding a man standing against the cell bars as he looked at you.
“Got a name?”
You shrugged a little bit, looking back down again.
“Alright, I’ll call you kid.”
“Not a kid…” you grumbled.
“Well apparently you don’t have a name so your shit outta luck there kid, why’re you here? Cause no offence but I’m gonna be the one getting it in the ass if they find you here.”
You looked at him, resting your chin on your knees.
“Don’t tell them…”
“Well im not fucking stupid, course I’m not going to tell them.”
He rested his arms between the gaps of the bars, and he glanced up to the window before turning his attention back towards you.
“Names Negan.”
You nodded your head, letting you know that you had heard him.
You didn’t stay long, you didn’t answer any of his questions before you left, locking the door before finding somewhere else to go.
But it soon became a daily occurrence, you would turn up at the cell between certain times, knowing the routines of when they brought him food.
Negan would talk, he didn’t like sitting in silence, and you would just listen to him, or read from one of the books he would slide under the cell bars for you.
You did eventually tell him your name, but he still liked to annoy you and refused to use it.
Today was no different, you came in, locked the door and walked over to your corner.
“Hey.”
Negan sat up from where he had been laid reading and he looked at you.
Negan swung his legs over his cot, and he rested his arms on his knees.
“Kid? What’s up?”
You shrugged a little bit, resting your head against the stone wall.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I love the fact you break into here and barely say a whole sentence to me, but this shit isn’t normal for you.”
You turned around, looking over at him.
“Do you ever feel alone…?” You asked quietly.
“Yeah, sometimes. But I only got myself to blame for that, I know that. I did shit things and it made me alone.”
“What did you do?”
Negan sighed, looking down at his hands.
He explained everything to you, what he had done, the saviours, the lives he had taken and everything he had done before landing in that cell.
When he finished he looked at you, giving you a little grin.
“See? Shit person.”
“My dad used to say that sometimes good people did bad things because they didn’t have a choice…”
He hummed a little bit.
“Yeah? What if that person is just a shit person?”
You shrugged a little bit, turning away to go back to resting your head against the stone wall.
Negan sighed heavily, getting up and he made his way to the front of the call, sitting down in the corner, resting his head on the bars.
“Your parents know you come down here and see a fucked up asshole like me?”
You didn’t reply and Negan looked at you, he heard you sniffled a little bit, and saw you wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands.
“Shit kid, I’m sorry.”
You turned around, keeping your back to him.
“Fuck, come on kid, I’m so sorry I had no idea. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
He sighed again.
“You know I had wife.”
You turned around and looked at him, wiping your eyes again.
“Yeah, yeah. I had a wife, I bet you’re looking at me thinking how can this old bastard have had a wife? Let me tell you she was… she was so beautiful.”
“What happened to her…?”
Negan smiled sadly.
“She died too, cancer.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Yeah, so am I.”
You looked at the door before turning back to him.
“What was she like?”
Negan smiled, and he told you about his wife Lucille, what she was like, and how things were with them all while smiling as he recalled the memories.
Sometimes his smile would fall, and then he’d smile when he told you another happy memory.
“What about your mom and dad?”
“They were optimistic things were going to change… happy… despite everything…”
You told him a few stories, and he listened carefully, not wanting to interrupt you since this was the longest you had spoken to him for.
But you seemed to realise this and quickly jumped up, taking the photo back from him and you left.
You didn’t turn up for the next few days, and he went back into his routine of solitude.
You finally came back one evening, the only giveaway it was you was the small click of the lock as you closed the door once.
“Hey kid.”
You had a lantern, and a bag and you walked over to the cell, sitting down by the bars, you passed him a few of the candles and he walked over to take them.
Negan put others back on your side of the bars, and he set one to the side, taking the lighter you had given him so he could light it and went to hand it back but you shook your head.
“You know the check my shit right? Make sure I have nothing I shouldn’t have.”
“Oh…”
You took the lighter back, and the spare candles to put back in your bag.
It added some light to the place, helping you see around better.
Negan rested his back on the wall, staring at the window on the opposite wall.
“What made you come by so late?” He asked.
You shrugged a little bit, resting your arms on your knees.
Negan turned to look at you, and he could slightly see inside of your bag, and he noticed that it seemed to have food inside, some water.
He furrowed his brows.
“Going somewhere?”
You didn’t say anything.
“Where are you going?”
Again you ignored his question, instead you pulled out a book, and you passed it through the bars to him so he could take it.
“Tell me about the old world?” You asked quietly.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Everything I guess…”
Negan thought for a moment, and he told you about the places that he had been to, what they looked like, about normal schools, aeroplanes, whatever came to mind.
You asked him questions, curious about wanting to know more, and hours passed like that.
You shared some of your food and water with him, and you set your bag down next to the bars of his cell, laying yourself down.
“Come on kid, you can’t sleep in here.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere else…”
“Why not?”
Negan got up, heading to his cot he grabbed all the bedding on there, brining it over and he shoved a blanket through the bars for you, and made his bed on the other side.
You stared up at the ceiling, covering yourself with the blanket before turning your back to him.
“They pity me…”
Negan didn’t miss the slight growl in your tone when you said that.
“They all try to act like they’re my parents… they… they never leave me alone and I hate it…”
“You hate having people around you?”
“I hate people who pretend… they only pity me… they don’t actually care.. just see some teenager with no family…”
Negan nodded his head, but didn’t say anything.
“They’re not my family… my family is dead… I’m alone…”
“Now come on, don’t spout that shit. That’s not true, you’re not alone.”
You didn’t say anything else and he sighed.
“Okay yeah, maybe they pity you. How do you know I don’t pity you?”
“You don’t look at me like they do… it’s why I come here… they look at me and.. and they see right through me… you actually see me…”
Negan didn’t tell you to leave, it was late now, and he wasn’t sure how safe it was out there for you to be wondering around in the dark.
You fell asleep there, and you slept through the sound of the door opening.
What woke you up was the sound of arguing and you slowly sat up.
“I told you not to come down here!” Michonne snapped at you.
You blinked a few times in confusion.
“Hey! Leave the kid alone!” Negan growled at her.
“You shut up, you don’t get a say in this. Gabriel take (Y/N) outside and place an extra guard in front of this place.”
Gabriel walked over to take your stuff and you quickly took it back, and he stopped, raising his hands as he smiled softly at you.
“Come along now, we should leave.”
You looked over at Negan and he gave a small nod his his head, letting you know it was okay to go.
You left your stuff behind, leaving the room, making a quick get away to another one of your hiding places, though it never took them long to find you there.
Aaron was the one to come looking for you.
“Hey…”
He walked into the small room you had called your home since you had arrived here.
“You know why we told you to stay away from the cell right? What Negan had done?”
You nodded.
“Then you understand why we want you to stay away from him? He’ll get inside your head, use you for his own benefit, to manipulate you into helping him escape or something along those lines.”
You stayed quiet, only getting up to leave and Aaron sighed.
You wanted nothing to do with anybody from the community, you never spoke to any of them, the most they got out of you was your name.
You went back to that cell, but the guard at the door looked at you, and you sighed.
Sitting on the steps, you stayed there all day.
Nobody really spared you a glance, it was like you were there but you weren’t really there all at the same time.
Maybe you would be better off if you weren’t there, it’s not like anybody would notice.
You didn’t have much, so it’s not like they’d even notice you were missing.
Getting up, you went back to your makeshift home and stayed there for the rest of the day, lost in your own thoughts.
How you were alone.
You had nobody.
Nobody cared about you.
Nobody loved you.
Nobody would miss you.
The only person who would notice would’ve been Negan but since you weren’t allowed to see him he’d forget about you too.
So you made up your mind, you were going to disappear.
You left that night, making your way back to the cell to see the guard was asleep and you snuck in like always to find Negan was asleep.
You sighed a little, and you looked at the guard before turning to Negan.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“For what?” He mumbled out.
You jumped a little bit.
Negan was looking at you and you shrugged slightly.
“For being my friend…”
Negan quickly sat up, and he walked over, resting a hand on the bars.
“What’re you doing?”
“I.. I have to go away…”
Negans eyes widened a little bit, he saw your arm when your sleeve rolled up as you reached up to wipe some of your tears.
He saw the bloodied bandage wrapped around it.
“Listen me kid, now Im not saying that you’re gonna do what I think you’re gonna do, but I’m telling you right now down you fucking dare.”
“I’m sorry…”
“(Y/N)!”
You quickly left, forgetting to close the main door, and you ran away.
You didn’t think, you just went to the first place you could think off, the tallest building in Alexandria, and you stood up there.
You looked down at the dark streets, and you took a small breath, turning your back on it, facing the way you had come from.
You didn’t realise that your commotion had alerted the guard who had alerted the council, but you could hear the pounding of footsteps getting closer.
Gabriel, Aaron and Michonne stood there.
“Come down.” Michonne said.
You shook your head.
“Please, let us talk about whatever is going on. What makes you feel like you must do this.” Gabriel said softly.
You shook your head again, shuffling back and they all tried to branch out, but nobody dared to get any closer.
“Just talk to us.” Aaron whispered.
“No…”
“Then who will you talk to? If there’s somebody out there that can stop you who is? Who do you want to speak to?” Michonne asked.
“Please, we don’t want you to do this..”
You didn’t reply, and suddenly Michonne ran off while Gabriel and Aaron watched you.
You didn’t know what they were doing and you were trying to work up the courage so you could see your family again, so you could take those last few steps back.
A few minutes later Michonne came back, and she shoved Negan forward making him stumble a little.
“Fucking hell, push me any further and I’ll be going over that edge.”
“That would be the day.” Michonne scoffed.
She gestured for the other two to back away, and they all walked away slightly.
Negan looked up at you.
“Hey, let’s talk, yeah?”
“I don’t want to talk…”
He hummed a little.
“Do you want to jump?”
“I… I don’t know…”
Negan sighed, and he looked up at you, holding out his hand.
“Come down (Y/N)…”
“I can’t…”
“Why not?”
You didn’t say anything.
Negan sighed, lowering his hand, bringing it up to run over his head as he tried to figure out what to do.
“You know, I wouldn’t forget you. I’d remember.”
You looked at him.
“You think everybody will forget you right? You’ll be able to disappear like you want right?”
You nodded.
“Hate to break it to you kid, but that’s not true. I wouldn’t, I’ll always remember you. We’re friends right?”
“Yeah…”
“Then let me help you, that’s what friends do. They help each other, and I’m not about to stand here and watch you throw your life away. You’re not alone, and I know it’s hard.”
“Does it get easier…?”
“No. It doesn’t. But you learn to live with that pain, and you just grow around it, but you have to be willing to just try, if you take that step, if you let yourself go, you’ll never know what will happen in your future.”
You shrugged a little.
“I don’t have one…”
“You don’t know that. How about we find out, together? Yeah?”
“What if you leave too…?”
Negan smiled softly at you.
“I’m not going anywhere kid.”
“You can’t say that…”
“Maybe not, but I don’t give a shit. I mean I’m in a cell, do you really think I’m running off anywhere?”
You shook your head.
“Come on, come down now.”
You looked down at the ground, and Negan took this as his chance to run forward and grab you, pulling you down.
He fell over with a heavy thud and slight groan of pain, and you fell to the side, sitting on your knees as you cried.
Negan sat up, pulled you into a hug, placing his hand on the back of your head.
“I’m sorry…” you cried quietly.
“It’s alright… you’re okay…”
Negan held you tightly, sighing heavily, running his hand up and down your back.
“Don’t you ever try anything like this again…”
Negan placed a hand on your arm.
“And stop hurting yourself… you don’t deserve this pain…” he whispered
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warningsine · 5 months
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Notice how Helena uses "I" instead of "she" and how Milchik gives her the soft sell.
Combine this with:
her embarrassed "My dad forced me to recite the 9 rules as a child and I did not like it then" admission in front of a camera.
James basically thanking her for risking her life for the company and lying about it. He "cried" about the suicide attempt, and yet he didn't even contact his daughter, since he's telling her this now at the gala as an aside to the event. In terms of family emergency time? Too fucking late. Is this the only time Helena's seen him since then? Not to mention how he didn't want to take responsibility and blamed it all on his daughter's alter ego.
And you'll get a more nuanced interpretation than the "Helena pure corporate evil, Helly R. good rebel" binary one.
Despite doing that cruel "I'm a person, you're not" presentation and being determined to see the process through even after Helly tries to commit suicide, there's some part of Helena that must know that this is messed up.
Sure, she's complicit and not a hapless victim, but she's also a product of her upbringing. Stripping her of her privilege, heritage, cult-like brainwashing/indoctrination and Shiv Roy-like desperation to win her dad's approval gives you Helly.
They are the same person under different circumstances.
There are no contradictions between the fundamental makeup of her innie and outie.
The version of herself Helena brings inside Lumon questions everything and demands accommodation and answers, because she is used to getting what she wants as a privileged woman.
What changes her is the different context she's given.
Helena is a wealthy and powerful woman who gets what she wants; Helly is a powerless woman who is often being tortured. It makes sense that her traits—stubborness and determination among others—and the fundamental sense of "I deserve to get what I want" are present in Helly.
But also make no mistake: they're both prisoners. Helly in a more literal sense, Helena in a figurative one—a prisoner in her family and the role that was imposed on her.
A willing participant that benefits from a controlling system is not free from the harm or influence of it. Acknowledging Helena's abusive circumstances doesn't take away from her as an antagonist, it makes her story more compelling.
Helena's self-serving qualities are more a matter of nurture than nature, because Helly shows caring and compassion as well as rebellion and independence. Helly is like a very young version of Helena.
All of the outies' emotions leak through to some extent.
Helly's "Well, that's a given for me [that I'm an asshole out there]" is a pretty safe assumption to make based on Helena's video, but it also oozes self-loathing. Helena taking it out on Helly does too.
Ultimately, I think this happens on a figurative level to a lot of people who undergo an—emotionally in this case— abusive upbringing. Rejecting their most vulnerable parts and imprisoning them. It's a survival mechanism, and helps them feel like they have more control over their out of control personal life. But, in a way, it makes them more out of control once they get into the real world.
Their inner, imprisoned parts find ways to make it so they can't ignore them. We definitely saw that with Helly threatening to mutilate herself and attempting suicide.
There are consequences to denying and imprisoning any part of ourselves over the long term.
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