#I mean… he did boot a football into her head… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaywonjuice · 8 months

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head in the clouds 💭 | y.jw

synopsis you were enjoying a romantic picnic with your boyfriend in hangang park when all of a sudden a familiar face unexpectedly crashed (into) the date.

genre fluff, oneshot

pairing bf!jungwon x fem reader (feat. jake, niki)

warnings sfw intimacy, physical contact, kissing

wc 752

a/n had such a lovely time writing this one !! jw rly radiates romantic picnic date energy it just felt right ..) hope u enjoy !<3

with a contented sigh, you rolled over onto your back, gazing up at the afternoon sky.

‘aren’t clouds crazy?’ you murmured to the brown-haired boy sat next to you on the gingham picnic blanket. ‘like seriously, there are huge clusters of frozen crystals floating around up there and we’re just going about our lives paying no attention whatsoever,’ when no response followed, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look directly at him.

‘paying no… attention… at all…’ you watched him carefully. he sat not three feet away from where you lay, legs crossed and eyes glued to his phone screen. your words had clearly fallen short of reaching him in any capacity.

‘hey, earth to jungwon? hello???’ you punctuated the words with a prod to his knee.

finally, jungwon looked up. he blinked. ‘huh? oh, sorry, yeah, clouds,’ he scratched his head as he fumbled for the right words. ‘they’re… they’re pretty fluffy-looking. i think i’d quite like to pet a cloud,’ he offered.

another soft blink from those expectant doe eyes, and you had to fight back a smile tugging at your lips. despite giving this resistance your very best effort, you failed.

‘thank you for your insightful contribution to this intellectual discussion,’ you teased, causing his cheeks to flush slightly. ‘what, exactly, is occuring on your phone that’s that more interesting than clouds, then?’

‘erm… well, you.’

his cheeks reddened even more. you shot him a puzzled look. ‘ “me”? how d’you mean?’

in place of a response jungwon simply turned his phone towards you, showing you your own recent instagram post from earlier that day. he smiled shyly down at you.

‘you know, you’re much prettier than a cloud.’

you groaned at the sappy comment, covering your face with your hands, before eventually letting out a little laugh, deciding to embrace the ridiculousness of the whole conversation. ‘i wish i was a cloud,’ you joked.

‘i don’t,’ he pouted, leaning down towards you ever so slightly. ‘i don’t reckon i get to make out with a cloud, you know.’

now it was your turn to blush. ‘oh uh, no, i guess not. i hadn’t really thought about that…’ your voice trailed off as jungwon leaned in further still until his nose almost brushed yours.

‘i’m thinking about it,’ he murmured. before you could come up with a reply he pressed his lips to yours. your lips parted instinctively, moving to kissing him back.

all of a sudden you heard a faint shout from a voice you thought you recognised, and not a second later something came crashing into the side of your leg with force.

the two of you broke out of your kiss abruptly as you let out a surprised cry.

‘hey, watch it!’ jungwon shouted out to the figure jogging over to the two of you.

‘jesus, sorry!’ panted jake as he reached you, stooping to retrieve the rogue football from the picnic blanket. ‘sorry, sorry!! niki booted that one way too hard, totally lost control! i did call out to warn you but you must’ve not heard me,’ he looked down at you, face full of concern. ‘y/n, are you alright?’

sitting up, you nodded. ‘yeah i’m all good,’ you replied. relieved, the boy’s face relaxed.

‘you gotta be more careful jake, you could’ve actually hurt her,’ warned jungwon.

‘i know, i know, it was my bad.’ jake tugged the hair at the nape of his neck, clearly feeling awkward about his blunder.

‘don’t sweat it jake, really. i’m fine, won’s fine,’ you smiled reassuringly at your friend. ‘so no harm done.’ he shot you a grateful smile back, his anxiety seeming to dissipate.

‘y’know, i was gonna come over earlier to see if you guys wanted to join me and niki for a game but you guys looked kinda, uh… busy,’ he grinned sheepishly.

you rolled your eyes, and jungwon groaned, ‘ugh, get out of here already jake!!’

with a wink, and still grinning boyishly, jake turned tail and began to jog away again. after only a few paces however, a thought struck him, and he turned back, about to call your name out again, only to see that the pair of you had wasted absolutely no time at all picking up right where you left off. chuckling to himself, he let the thought go, and headed back.

‘are they gonna come join?’ niki asked as jake approached.

‘nah,’ jake shook his head, smiling. ‘head in the clouds, the pair of them, honestly.’

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

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as-is-above-so-below · 1 year

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Knackered & Insatiable

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes warning: MDNI, mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood, SMUT Note: I cannot believe how much you guys LOVED Part 1!!! I've written three pieces in my life (check out my Ao3 for my other works lol) and none of them have ever gotten this much of a response. Thank you so much for your praise and overwhelming support, it really means a lot to me as a first-time writer :) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Ghost swirled the drink in his glass before lifting his mask up just enough to sip his whiskey. The team had insisted on getting to know his wife before they returned to England and Ghost “stole her away forever”, as they’d put it. He knew damn well, now that she’d met everyone, there wasn’t a chance in Hell she would let that happen. And while he may put on a good show of being a grump about it, secretly, he was glad. It was almost nice to see her mingling with his frie–team over a few drinks (hers being a bottle of water) and a football (she would call it a “soccer ball”, but he digressed).

He watched Soap, Gaz, and Freyja bobbing around the open space, kicking the ball back and forth, occasionally playing keep away. Gaz slid at her in an attempt to knock the ball loose from her control, which she swiftly countered and danced around him, laughing maniacally as the man shouted at her in protest. His lips tugged at the corner in a grin, shaking his head lightly at her antics.

She’d dressed down into her standard t-shirt but kept her boots and uniform pants on, her hair tied back out of her face. Without her gear or outerwear, even her oversized shirt, her bump protruded slightly where the shirt tucked into her belt. He’d been told that every person carried differently; her bump was small, due in part to her exercise regimen. God, he’d missed her.

He’d even been gracious enough to allow her time to gossip with his teammates, spilling (some) details about their relationship. How they met (work), who made the first move (classified), how Simon proposed (he didn’t); so gracious that he let a few embarrassing remarks slip past his radar.

Just a few.

“Did you know he has stretch marks–”

He whistled through his teeth. “Oi, watch it,” he warned, jerking his hand in front of his neck as to say ‘cut it’.

“But the stretch marks, Si!”

Ghost’s eyes traced her movements, wild hands pointing at her thighs, hips, underarms, and knees. He chastised her with a warning sound, and the three huddled together in whispers, no doubt continuing to quietly discuss topics they shouldn’t. He had a feeling he would be seeing a lot more of his fellow soldiers outside of the base. They eventually continued their game again.

Price took a seat next to him on the bench. Ghost said nothing. “How far along are you now?”

He took a deep breath, calming himself. Bold of Price to ask about the child he willingly endangered. “Fourteen weeks.”

John’s head bobbed, and he leaned back against the building behind them with his arms crossed. “Still struggling with the morning sickness, I see?”

That much was obvious. “The doctor said it should clear up soon. Usually only lasts ‘til ‘bout now,” he explained, still not meeting his eyes, choosing to follow his wife.

Silence passed between the two, the chirps of native bugs and shenanigans from the team filling the air.

The weight of his upper body on his forearms became uncomfortable, and Ghost sat back too. He sighed through his nose, keeping his sight forward. “I didn’t ask you not to call her for this job as your Lieutenant. I asked as your friend.”

John hesitated, mulling over the fact as he carefully chose his next words. He didn’t come up with much. “I know. I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?

Nothing.

Ghost nodded once, satisfied, and threw back the remains of his drink. The most important thing was that she was okay now. He knew the Captain was desperate for another player on that mission, and he was confident Price wouldn’t do it again.

Price seemed to understand that he had been forgiven. “Want another?”

“Negative, sir. She’ll lose steam in a minute.”

Sure enough, as predicted, she gave up her game and relented the ball to Kyle. Soap cheered with his arms in the air, sloshing his beer a bit with the motion. Freyja looked over her shoulder at him and raised a brow, eyes shifting toward their building. He acknowledged her request as she wished the others a good night's rest, rising to follow her to bed. Ghost fell into step a few paces behind her when a sharp whistle caught his ear. He turned his shoulder to look, and saw Soap with his hand out, gripping an imaginary leash with his tongue out as Gaz walked ahead of him like a dog.

He flipped them off and continued behind her.

~*~

The minute they returned to his quarters, Freyja had thrown herself down onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, not even bothering to strip out of her uniform. Ghost took her idea and, in his uniform, carefully straddled her waist. He offered her each of his hands, and she immediately went to work removing his gloves, smiling warmly at him. She gingerly traced the outline of his lips through his mask, a questioning look in her eyes. He accepted and tilted his chin up, allowing her to slip under the edge of the mask, drawing it up and off his head, leaving him with just the black paint on his face. Freyja plopped it on the headboard above them with his gloves.

“There he is.” Her cheeks were warm and rosy from the dry heat of the area, and all of the jogging she did outside.

“Hi, sweethear’.”

She tugged him down by his blonde locks at the nape of his neck, capturing his lips in hers. He dropped his weight onto his forearms, keeping away from her belly while his lips moved slowly against hers. A month had passed since he saw her, let alone touched her. However, when she nipped fiercely at his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan from Simon–

“Love,” he groaned, forcing himself to break away, as much as it pained him. “I don’t have it in me right now. I’m absolutely knackered.”

Freyja turned up a brow at him. “Wow. I’ve never heard that one before. Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her thumbs against his cheekbones.

His head leaned into her touch, melting in the palms of her hands. The effect she had on him was something he’d never experienced before and was what drew him to the soldier. Quick and cunning, skilled and strong, but also impossibly loving and soft and gentle. Nobody had ever shown him the kind of attention she did, and he found himself craving it when they would inevitably separate for deployment.

He didn’t want to argue with his wife again after not seeing each other for so long, but the pit in Simon’s chest wasn’t budging either. Simon sighed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I was serious when I said I’m pissed.”

“Simon, I know I shouldn’t have–”

“No, just– let me talk.” He brushed a loose hair from her forehead. “I…I don’t ask much of you. I asked – no, told you to do one thing. To stay home and protect our baby.”

Her brows pinched together, maintaining eye contact with him. “Simon, I can take care of myself,” she whispered, a bit confused.

“I know you can. I’ve seen you in the field, seen what you can do. You’re capable of slaughtering dozens of men at a time without breaking a sweat.” Simon rolled his shoulders to move off of her, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling. He rarely got so upset with her, if ever. Even rarer that he became a stuttering mess that couldn’t string a sentence together properly. He hated the feeling. “Why did you do tha’? What if you’d gotten hurt? What if someone comes after you when I’m not around? Wh–”

“Stop. You’re spiraling again.” Freyja turned onto her side, worried eyes studying his features. He’d picked up the habit since the pregnancy tests (seven of them to be exact) turned positive. “I–I know I messed up. I’m so, so sorry, Si. I didn’t…didn’t want to hurt you. I promise I won’t go out again. I just–” Her eyes watered, and she dragged the heel of her palm against the dampness on her cheek. “I’m h-having such a hard time. I love this baby, but I feel so–so useless just sitting at home.”

Oh, sweetheart… “Budge up,” Simon muttered, his voice gravelly as he tapped her thigh and scooched down a bit himself. His right arm slipped under her hip while the other tugged her shirt up to reveal their growing baby. Simon smiled softly at the sight and peppered kisses all over her bump. He eventually nuzzled into her chest and draped her leg over his hip before wrapping that arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I ‘aven’t been round. I know how much you miss work. But just look at this precious thing you’re making, Frey; you’re creating a whole person in there. My strong, drop-dead gorgeous wife and beautiful son–”

“Or daughter.”

Simon’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest and belly, warmth blooming there. “Right. Or daughter,” he pressed another kiss to her chest. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just you watch. I’ll be home for a good long while now; we can work something out with Price, and get you some desk duty so you’re not sat at home twiddlin’ your thumbs all day. Keep you busy, yeah?”

Freyja nodded in agreement, smiling down at her husband. “Okay,” she croaked, sniffling a bit.

“Good. Now go to sleep, love. I really am knackered.”

“I love you, Simon.”

“I love you too, Frey.”

~*~

Soap rapped his knuckles against the door for his Lieutenant’s quarters after (again) failing to locate Captain Riley in hers. He waited for a breath and was about to knock again when he heard an affirming grunt from the other side of the door.

“Aye, if I see any naked bodies–” He poked his head into the room, finding the two tangled up in each other. Fully clothed, thankfully. He barely caught the bare strip of Simon’s cheek from his angle. He immediately piped down when he realized she was still sleeping. “Lieutenant?”

“Wot?” he grumbled, not moving from his comfortable position. Soft and warm.

John remained silent, eyes shifting between Simon and the sleeping body next to him.

“What do you need, Sergeant.”

“I don’t want to wake ‘er, sir,” he whispered in a hushed voice. He truly didn’t want to face the consequences of waking a pregnant Riley. He was, however, less worried about the wrath of his Lieutenant and more about his other half.

Simon turned his chin up slightly, focusing on her steady, soft breaths and even heartbeat. In the first weeks of her pregnancy, before leaving for deployment, she had taken to sleeping like a rock. Obviously, that fact was still true. He settled back into her t-shirt.

“She’s fine. Speak.”

Soap hesitated but took his word for it. “Ah, Captain said we’re good to go. Wheels up in thirty.”

He grunted again, still unmoving. ”Alright. We’ll be ready.”

He could sense the Scot still stuck in his doorway, continuing to disturb his peace, and his irritation grew. “Quit hoverin’, Johnny. I said we’ll be ready. Get out,” he all but growled.

“Sorry, sir.” Soap turned to leave but stopped himself. “Almost fo’got, wanted to give ya’s a warnin’, it’s pishin’ it doon out there.”

His patience had grown thin and irritability impossibly higher. “Speak. English.”

Soap’s mouth opened with a turned lip, just about to quip a snarky retort–

“It’s raining fuckin’ hard.”

His eyes blew wide, jaw dangled loosely, staring at the previously silent form the soft, sleepy voice came.

“Thank you, love.”

“I—How— Beg your pardon?” John stuttered, pointing between Freyja and Ghost in utter shock.

Her grip on her husband tightened with a groan, eyes fluttering as she tried to adjust to the morning light. “What? What did I do?” she mumbled, curving her back inward to stretch, her neck popping.

“But–I don’t– You know Scots?”

“Oh. I suppose. Cannae ge’ the accent righ’, though,” she said, exhibiting what was indeed her very poor attempt at a Scottish accent.

Still, he gawked at them, unmoving. He eventually snapped out of his reverie, a wicked smile creeping onto his face. “Jesus, I’m sorry Lt. but I think I’m gettin’ hard,” he teased, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

Simon blindly reached for the mask above his head, scooting up a bit for a quick kiss before slipping it on. The black war paint around his eyes remained, but more worn and smudged with sleep. The Sergeant Oooh’d in the background. “Johnny, what did I tell you ‘bout flirting wit’ my wife?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed in a sitting position.

Freyja followed him, sitting up and pressing her chest against Simon’s back. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her palms across his sternum and abdomen, fingers dipping into the ridges of his muscles. “Simon, you really shouldn’t make threats you don’t intend to keep,” she pressed her lips against the warm skin at the back of his neck. He hummed softly, leaning back into her.

“Who said I won’t?”

“Alright, alright, I’m not tryna cock-block,” Soap threw his hands up in defense, backing out of the doorway. “I’m goin’. Tarmac in thirty.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the couple alone again. Simon moved to stand but was immediately restricted by her arms and legs as she whined. “Can I help you?” he asked, settling back down and glancing at her over his shoulder.

Freyja rose to her knees and tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his waistband. “Maybe,” she said against the side of his throat. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you Simon,” her fingers pressed into his waist. She licked a stripe on his thrumming pulse before closing her mouth over the spot, sucking generously. Simon hissed through his teeth and dropped his head against her shoulder. “Or Ghost?”

“God, you are insatiable.”

“Only when you don’t give me what I want.”

“And wha’s that?”

“Been a while since you fucked me stupid, yeah?”

A deep growl tore from him, and he whipped around, pouncing on her. The balaclava and skull plate flew across the room. His lips crushed hers, teeth and tongues smashing together. Rough fingers wrapped around her throat, holding her down to the mattress as he leaned over her. “Your British is fuckin’ shit.”

“Mmm, what’re you gonna do about it?” she challenged, smirking against his mouth. She loved instigating him, even more so now that her hormones were through the roof. The last week at home had been almost unbearable.

Freyja’s eyelids flickered at the sudden pressure, not enough to cut off oxygen but enough to effectively shut her up. She felt her walls flutter at the sensation, a puddle forming in her underwear.

“Good girl,” Simon practically purred, dragging his lips down to the underside of her chin, nipping at the skin, followed by a soothing lick at the affected spot. His free hand crawled down her body, rising and falling over the various curves before stopping at her pants. “Is this what you want?”

She nodded vigorously, so he swiftly unfastened the fatigues and dove his hand in. “Mmm, so needy for me. I’ve barely even started, sweetheart,” he slipped two fingers through her soaked lips, sucking a bruise at her throat. He ground his aching bulge against the edge of the bed, searching for some relief. Simon swirled tight but lazy circles around her clit with her collected juices, getting a muffled moan. “Like that?”

“Mhm…”

“Use your words, Frey.”

“F-Fuck– Need you, Si, n-now.”

He cocked his head to the side, releasing her throat to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Already? I’m feelin’ a bit, peckish love. Not gonna let me have a taste?” He slid down to his knees, nibbling down over her t-shirt and pulling the zipper of her pants.

“NO!” She shouted, and his eyes shot up to hers with a brow quirked. “N-No, I need you to fuck me. Please, Simon,” she begged, her voice desperate.

“Fast and hard, eh? A’right.” Simon stood, then hooked his hands behind her knees, yanked her to the edge of the bed, and flipped her over, her feet firmly planted on the floor. “Careful,” he pressed softly against her bump, keeping her stomach off the bed.

The sniper growled at him, starting to get frustrated. “Simon, I swear to fucking God– Ah!” she squeaked when a much firmer hand shoved her face into the mattress.

“Naughty girl… I’m getting there. Be patient,” he ordered. He waited until she showed her understanding with another sharp nod. Simon finally pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. “Fuckin’ Hell,” he moaned, admiring the view as he dropped his pants enough to pull himself out, giving himself a few strokes. “Who’s this cunt belong to?” he asked, dragging the tip through her folds.

“You, it's all yours!”

Eager to please, Simon rested one palm on the small of her back as the other slowly eased himself into her. His head dropped back, unable to help the soft moans and whimpers at her walls around him. “F-fuck, never get sick of this sweet cunt,” he stilled himself in her when he bottomed out. “Not even in you for a second ‘n I already wanna cum.”

She pulled her hips forward, desperate for him to move and, as promised, fuck her senseless. Bruising fingers gripped the extra flesh at her hip with a groan. “Naughty,” he repeated, drawing out of her to the tip before diving back in just as slowly. “Maybe if ya beg some more, I’ll give it to ya.”

Freyja whined as his cock dragged painstakingly slowly along her insides. “P-please, please fuck me, Simon. I need your cock so bad. I’m desperate,” she begged, her hands shaking as she gripped the scratchy blanket under her with white knuckles. “Been w-waiting so long for you to come home, please!”

Simon twitched inside her, his wife’s begging scratching just the right spot in his brain. “Ngh, fuck Frey.” He slammed into her, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he started a steady pace.

“God, Simon, ‘s so good–”

“Look at me,” he said, turning her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again…My name.”

Her smirk almost immediately wiped off her face when he brushed her clit again, eliciting another breathy, gasped moan. “Simon!”

“Mmm, again.”

“S-Simon…fuck!”

“Cum for me, love, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you–”

She stared into his eyes, the sounds of his hips slapping her hips, the wet sounds of her sex thrumming between them, and her heavy pants thrumming between them until she finally pulsed around him, her pitch kicking up an octave. “Ah, Simon, I-I’m cumming, fuck!”

“Jesus fuck–! Y/N, Y/N,” he whined, choking on her name as the tight coil inside him snapped and spilled into her, his hips stuttering. Simon’s chest rested against her back when he dropped his hand next to her for support. He stilled, echoing her name over and over while he pumped her full of his cum. She was grinning back at him over her shoulder and dragging her nails up and down his forearm, humming at the warm pool inside her.

Simon slid his free hand under the back of her shirt, stroking between her shoulder blades. They stood unmoving, panting, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. His spend was starting to creep out around him, turning into milky drops threatening to break free and fall to the floor. He could stay like that forever, her gaze holding his as he warmed his cock in her–

“Hey Ghost–”

THUNK

The tip of a black combat knife sank into the soft wood of the door frame, a breath away from his nose. Kyle stopped short of passing through the threshold, the door only open a crack. “Bad time, got it,” he said, his voice cracking a bit before the door clicked shut again. “Sorry!” his voice muffled by the door between them before his footsteps scurried away.

Freyja giggled and pressed her face into the mattress, attempting to stifle her laughter.

“Not funny.”

“Really? I thought it was a little bit funny, Lieutenant,” she said, wiggling her hips against his. Simon’s breath hitched, and both hands shot back to stop the movement.

“Ey, none’a that. Be a good girl or you won’t be getting a thing out of me later,” he threatened, raising a blonde brow in challenge. She pouted up at him in return but nodded with a disgruntled Fine, slowly leaning forward until he popped out of her with a groan. The woman eased herself up until she stood fully and turned to face him, standing on her tiptoes to reward him with a sweet, lazy kiss. When Simon was least expecting, she swiped a finger along his dick, causing him to jerk at his sensitivity, collecting their mixed fluids before popping the digit into her mouth. “You’re a minx, y’know that?”

“Mhm.”

“Hn.” He pulled her panties and underwear back up for her, fingers lovingly caressing their growing baby when he went to button them again. He wasn’t proud to admit that he hadn’t reacted well to the initial news of his wife’s pregnancy. Simon had never wanted children or a family before her, given his experiences with his own as a child. The last thing he wanted was to turn out like his father, an abusive, mean drunk with a violent streak and an inclination for scaring the pants off little Simon.

That all changed at their first ultrasound. The soft thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoed off the walls of the small room and burned into his mind on a constant playback. His baby. Their baby.

Mine.

He supposed the second-trimester hormones were a nice touch, too.

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notjustjavierpena · 4 months

Note

I love checking in on hubby and his family. Is everything going well? Are they doing baby number 4 soon?

Nails (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Just a tiny thing for you, anon. Mwah!

Summary: Father-and-son bonding time brings a surprise.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Allusion to smut, domestic bliss, Lucas is the best boy, wholesome masculinity, javi being a good father makes you horny

Word count: 1k

Nails

The door opens and closes in the entrance hallway as you walk around with Sebastian on your arm in the kitchen, bouncing him gently as he fusses quietly. You turn to look at the clock, realizing that it has been three hours since you sent Lucas and Javier out the door with a mission to get Lucas a new pair of football boots while simultaneously letting them have some father-and-son bonding time.

Lucas had voiced his disappointment about the lack of time spent alone with his dad when you had tucked him in last week, and thinking back on it, you had quickly realized that it had indeed been too long since Lucas had done something together with his father. So you had made plans to take Sebastian and dropped Inés off at her abuelo’s for the weekend. Tonight, you will cook your son’s favorite food (homemade burgers), watch a movie together as a family (perhaps one that you have said no to him watching in the past), and then he will be allowed to play his video games till much later than usual (even if he’ll continue playing his games underneath his blanket until he passes out).

“In here,” you call out to them, making Sebastian cry briefly until you kiss the top of his head repeatedly. His fingers curl around your hair, and you try not to swear as he tugs. You scold him in a teasing, gentle voice, “That hurts, Mister Grumpypants. Your mamá needs hair on her head, you know.”

When they enter the kitchen, you are untangling your baby’s tiny hand from your hair and making him grab at your blouse instead. You look up with a grin, “Hey you.”

Javier walks up to kiss you before kissing Sebastian’s head too, “Hola, bebito. Y mi amor. (Hello, little baby. And my love)”

“Did you have fun?” You ask, resting Sebastian on your arm to hold out your other hand for Lucas. However, your son hesitates to move across the kitchen floor and it makes you raise a brow. What exactly has happened on their trip?

Javier walks back to Lucas, crouching down to rest his own forehead against his son’s. They share a look, and Javier whispers something you can’t hear.

“Está bien, mijo (It's okay, my son),” he says softly afterward, turns his body towards you, “Lucas has something he wants to show you.”

“What is it, sweetie?” You shift Sebastian a little more until he sits on your hip. You hold out your hand a little more insistently and finally, Lucas gives in and walks up to you. He places his hand in yours.

“Lucas wanted to get his nails done,” Javier says after a moment of silence. You look down to see that Lucas’ nails are bright pink and shiny with topcoat nail polish. Your son’s demeanor is flustered.

“Lucas! These are beautiful,” you say without hesitation, “Look at them! All the boys at soccer practice will be jealous.”

Lucas lights up at the compliment, seemingly not having expected instant support from his mother. You can safely say that you mean every word.

Javier continues, “So we had Lucas’ nails done before the boots. The woman at the shoe shop had a lot to say but I told her to mind her fucking business.”

“Javi!” You exclaim at the swearing.

“Dad, it was okay,” Lucas reassures, clearly shocked too. He lets go of you to scold his father, “Mom says we can’t say that word.”

“Mom says a lot of things,” he adds with a smirk, “What if I told you that I’ll allow you to say it once tonight?”

“Really?” Lucas looks back at you for confirmation

“Absolutely not,” you reply with a roll of your eyes at your husband who only grins, “Daddy speaks in tongues. He is in trouble for saying that word.”

“Am I?” Javier suggests something with a glint in his eyes, something that goes over Lucas’ head. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, and the boy immediately tries flattering it again.

“Did anything else happen?” You ask, letting Sebastian grab at your finger when he starts searching for your hair again. You think he might be hungry soon.

“Well, after that bullsh—“ Javier stops himself as you give him a look, “—nonsense, we went back to the salon and I got my nails done too.”

You spot that Javier has gotten his nails painted red. It suits his skin tone extremely well. Lucas beams beside him and they hold out their hands together.

“Maybe I’ll forgive you for swearing,” you say, nodding towards their painted nails, “They just look so good.”

“Are you mad at me for getting pink?” Lucas asks suddenly.

Without a shred of hesitation, you shake your head, “Are you kidding? Pink is one of my favorite colors, baby. It looks perfect on you.”

“Thank you,” he replies shyly.

“I told you it was the right choice, kiddo, they look fantastic. No one can deny it,” Javier says and places a hand on his boy’s shoulder. Lucas leans into his father’s touch but then jumps as he remembers something.

“Mom! I need to show you my new shoes!” He nearly shouts, excitement bubbling up in his voice. He runs off to get the bag, “They’re blue!”

You don’t manage to answer before he is gone from the room. It makes you seize the opportunity to speak freely with your husband, “Javier F. Peña.”

“Yes, Mrs. Peña?” Javier hums with his mischievous smile.

“If you don’t put baby number four in me tonight,” you begin, closing the distance between you, “I might go fucking insane.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi peña #javi pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena #narcos #my writing #javier pena imagine #javi p x reader #javi p #pedro pascal fanfiction #husband!javi

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room.

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end.

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in.

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers.

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!”

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation.

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand.

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly.

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring.

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone.

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his.

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again.

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her.

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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viscerax · 2 years

Note

Don’t know if I can request here, so if I can’t I’m sorry :( but if so, can I request hcs of finney dating a cheerleader? Maybe cheerleader defending finney with fluff??

Finney Dating a Cheerleader HC's

Okay so, this man was absolutely FLABBERGASTED when he found out you liked him too.

Hes had girls pretend to ask him out as a prank/a form of bullying, so he figured thats just what you were doing

I think he tried to ask you out first, but got super nervous and ended up asking to borrow a pencil... after school.

You asked him out after one of his baseball games. His game ended like 30 minutes after your cheer practice was out, so you ran from the school to the baseball field in time to watch the last ten minutes of the game and asked him out afterwards

Finney just stood there like "Huh??? Me??? 🧍‍♂️" he definitely thought you were either pranking him or you had just gotten him mixed up with someone else.

First date was a football game. Which was a weird date because the two of you didn't really get to hang out until after the game

Finney is SO SO AKWARD. You're his first for everything. First kiss, first partner, first girl to hold his hand, everything.

You constantly joke about how he would probably look good in your uniform, and although he'd never admit it, he's kind of curious now

Now a small scenario

You knew that Finney wasn't popular. You knew about all the mean shit the other girls said about him. Sometimes they'd call him harmless things, like nerd, or weirdo, but what bothered you most was when they would constantly bring up his encounter with the Grabber.

The situation had scarred Finney, physically, mentally, emotionally. He acted like it didn't bother him to much, but you knew how badly it hurt him. So, no one got off without a few bruises from you if they ever brought it up, whether it was to his face or around other people. If you found out, they were done for.

Many people doubted you, since you were a cheerleader. But you could throw a few good punches.

One particular day, some bitch had whispered something to her friend while you were passing by in the hallways. Yoy stopped dead in your tracks, immediately tying your hair into ponytail and turned on the heel of your boots, a very fake smile spreading across your face.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck did you say, bitch?" Your fists were clenched at your sides, and suddenly the girl didn't seem too confident anymore.

"I said that your boyfriend is going to grow up and become some kind of serial killer. So I'd be careful if I were you. The bimbo girlfriend is always the first victim. Unless of course, you go along with him." The girl snickered to herself, but her laugh was cut off as you slammed your fist into her face, making the back of her head collide with her locker. Suddenly, everyone was paying attention. You grabbed a hold of the girls ponytail and tugged it so that she was looking directly into your eyes.

"Finney isn't a fucking serial killer. He's gone through something terrible, and a weak bitch like you would snap. But he didn't. He persisted. So maybe next time, you should be more careful about the lies and shit you say about other people. Especially Finney." You sighed and slammed her head into the lockers again before spinning on your heel, facing the crowd and smiling, taking your hair out of the ponytail and waving as you walked off.

#the black phone #the black phone x reader #black phone edit #headcanon #finney shaw #finney x reader #finney blake #reader is a fucking badass

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redflagsandbanners · 2 years

Text

#Ronancetober _ Day 3

"This happened then. You -"

"Robin -"

"I mean, listen -"

"Robin, I swear -"

"You're not so different from a wet cat -"

"I will murder you, Buckley, this is it for - Stop laughing, for the love of God!"

Robin bends in half, clutching at her stomach, and it is so very awful of her to be mocking her best friend where she is dripping a little pool of water on the bathroom tiles. Something about the car dying in the middle of the stupid road, something about missing first period, something about getting caught in the storm and something about -

"This is not funny!"

"You kept walking, why did you keep walking?!"

"Shut up. Shut up, shut up, Buckley, my god -"

She tries to swallow down the giggles, she tries to focus on pity and stop laughing at the sight of Nancy Wheeler scowling at the mirror over the sinks while standing defeated. Hair dripping, jacket thrown on the counter (also dripping), sweater clinging on her torso like a foot towel in front of a bathtub, pants and boots squeaking with each shift of her.

"You're gonna get sick, man".

"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Want me to call Steve come get you home to change?"

"As if he'll let me sit on his car like this".

"If he wants to live another day, he shall do so".

Nancy stills, meeting Robin's eyes through the mirror. Sighs a deep, depressed sound, and runs a hand through the wet curls of her hair. Her hand comes back just as wet and by now, she is starting to shudder, rough chills snapping through her spine.

"I'm gonna get sick, man", Nancy repeats and Robin chuckles, going to lean on the counter next to her.

Something bright is glimmering in the deep blue eyes. Nancy glares at the lazy smirk.

"What, what, what is it?"

"I may have a solution".

Dread. This is what Nancy feels when her best friend smirks like this. Her heart is pounding by now and she cannot - she cannot take her eyes away from the glimmer in Robin's eyes. The next shudder has nothing to do with the cold and she - she thinks of Pennhurst, suddenly. Of bad ideas. Of them sticking together through them.

"What?"

"So tonight was supposed to be the very first football game of the semester but it is raining so, naturally, it got canceled -"

"Nope".

"- meaning my band uniform -"

"No, no. I'll be fine".

"- it ain't gonna be used by anyone today".

"I'm alright, really".

"You're already sniffing, Wheeler".

She groans, an even deeper sound, letting her head hang and letting her soul leave her body, so only a casket of useless bones is left behind.

"Fuck me", she mumbles and Robin chuckles again, the smirk spreading into an excited grin.

"Do I bring it over?"

"If I see you carrying the hat, I will kill you".

"Yes, ma'am", Robin bounces off of the counter and goddamn races out of the bathroom to her locker.

Nancy hangs her head again. Closes her eyes and fights to keep from shuddering even more. Everything needs to go; sweater and undershirt and underwear, pants and socks and boots. A towel is needed. A cup of tea with an obnoxious amount of honey, is needed too. She keeps sniffing and she keeps feels a scratch at the back of her throat and goddamn, goddamn -

The bathroom door slams open. And, suddenly, Robin looks incredibly nervous. Folded green and white clothes are held close to her chest; white shoes held by two fingers. A gym towel is on the girl's shoulder.

Nancy could kiss her right now.

"Listen, calling Steve is probably a better idea anyway. I mean there isn't a lot for you in this school to get you warm right now. You probably need a warm shower or something - "

"Robin. These are enough. Thank you".

"Sure. Sure thing. Here, the towel is clean and everything. Do you want me to go? I can find you a plastic bag for the wet clothes -"

"No, I'll only take a minute. Hold on, we'll go together".

"Sure, sure..." - Robin is fidgety. Why is she fidgety? - "...I'll be right here".

From the stall, Nancy can hear her pacing across the length of the room. It is not like this is the first time they exchange clothes for Robin to be this nervous, but Nancy guesses the uniform is another territory.

It doesn't feel much different than the rest of Robin's clothes. The green pants are incredibly soft against her legs and they're long. She has practiced the way of folding them over around her ankles. Socks and shoes slightly bigger than her own. Shirt brushing thick over her chest, big enough to hide the fact she won't be wearing a bra for the rest of the day.

It smells like cotton and like Robin. It takes her a moment to get the buttons lined up. It takes her another moment to slip the jacket over without messing the decorating pins and chains hanging from the pockets. She sighs in relief as it hangs from her shoulders, buggy and warm and so so comforting. Her fingertips curl around the edges of the sleeves, tugging it in loose fists and, god, it feels like sleeping in Robin's bed.

"Nance, you good in there?"

She has closed her eyes. She has nuzzled her face in the soft collar, breathing in the girl's scent.

Her voice is hoarse. "Yeah. I'm coming out".

On the other side of the door, Robin snorts a laughing sound. "Been waiting for that for a while", she teases and, despite not being able to see her, Nancy rolls her eyes with a smirk of her own.

Robin leans against the wall in front of the stalls, and, even when the girl's motionless weight is supported by the bricks, at the sight of Nancy stepping out of the stall has her stumbling.

Knees wavering and jaw dropping open and cheeks flushing bright red and a strangled sound escaping her throat. At the reaction, Nancy lifts both eyebrows.

"You good?"

"No".

Nancy smirks. "Some drool on the side of her mouth, Buckley".

"I'm... Listen. Listen, Wheeler, you - you know you're a gorgeous being of a girl. You know it and this - you look even better in my... I mean -"

Nancy's eyebrows are up to her hairline by now. She is blushing just as much but - but refuses to look away from Robin pressing further against the wall. Clearly affected by what she is seeing. Clearly nervous about it. Clearly unable to hide the emotions from her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Nance, I'll - I'll go. I'll go, I don't want you to feel, like, uncomfortable or - or - or, like -"

"Hey, no..." - Nancy frowns and comes closer to press a hand on Robin's arm. The girl jolts at the touch, wide eyes snapping down to find Nancy's own.

"You'd never make me feel uncomfortable".

Robin gulps but doesn't nod. At finding her so overwhelmed, both wonder and fear in her gaze, Nancy feels her chest both tight and loosen.

She jumps forward, wrapping her best friend in the tightest of hugs. Immediately, both arms fly around her too, embracing her right back, and when standing this close, Nancy feels the relief leaking through the girl's shoulders and chasing away the fear.

Against her skin, the uniform rubs comfortingly stiff. Warm. Nancy shudders, heart pounding so fast she is sure Robin can feel it.

On Robin's denim jacket, Nancy whispers, "You like me".

Both arms tighten when Robin starts to tremble.

"You're my best friend".

"But you... you like like me".

"I'm - I'm - Nance, I - "

Nancy presses harder against her shoulder, closes her eyes tight as her heart threatens to jump out of her mouth. "Can I kiss you?"

"Nancy, I - I'm - I don't want this to just be - be, like, just a moment. I don't..." - when Nancy pulls back to look up at her, Robin's breaths catch at her throat - "...I want this to - to be a full thing".

Nancy cannot stop looking at her lips. "Really?"

"I - I - I mean..."

"I want that too. The full thing. Everything. I want it too, Robin".

"You - Really?"

Nancy smiles up at her. Robin exhales a long, overwhelmed blow of air, some tension slacking out of her.

"So... can I kiss you?"

"You can kiss me".

Robin sucks in another breath, nervously licks her lips, and the sight is enough to have Nancy's knees ducking in longing.

When Robin reaches over, smoothing out the collar of the green jacket, her hand is trembling and another blush is raising to her cheeks. Fingers curl softly around the edge of the stiff fabric, tugging Nancy just a bit closer.

They both gulp.

#ronancetober #day three #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #stranger things fic #ronance

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dashrgpx · 4 months

Text

Adriana’s POV (pure and none of that other stuff just true care for each-other)

I sat outside of Ashley’s backyard just getting some air she was having a get together all our friends and their partners were over I don’t really have a partner but I am the girls friend So. Lately I’ve been having writers block and can’t quite seem to come up with anything for our new up coming album after also suffering a vocal hemorrhage and going into surgery not knowing if I would be able to ever sing the same again all while fans have waited through the recovery and recording process and I can’t seem to deliver and it’s really starting to frustrate me.

Pablo’s POV

I was at Ashley’s house with Pedri’s who’s dating Natalia I came because most of the guys from the team are also here . After a while I realized Adriana had slowly disappeared from the group I wondered what was going on she’s been extra quiet lately and I mean she’s usually quite but she zones out more on us I mean I made fun of her hair and boots today and although she usually has a salty comeback today she didn’t have one I decided I was thirsty so I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water when I see Adriana outside in Ashley’s backyard “hola que haces “ I said to her she just turned and saw it was me and turn back to where she was looking at before “hey Pablo “ she replied “what’s going on Adriana” I said to her to which she chuckled and said “huh never thought you would ever actually ask me if I was okay considering you hate me and all” to which I said “cmon Adriana I like to mess with you see you mad but I don’t wish miserable on you “ to which she chuckled again “I can’t write for my life Pablo I mean I’ve tried everything to get me back in that studio in hopes I’ll sing the same “ I said practically almost letting a sob out “I don’t understand Adriana your an amazing writer I’ve never ever seen struggle in all of the two years I’ve known you but what’s all this of not singing the same “ he said and that’s when it hit me the girls never told anyone of my vocal recovery surgery “Pablo there reason our tour has been on hold as well as our album is because I suffered a vocal hemorrhage and had to get surgery then recovery but see I haven’t even attempted to sing in fear it just won’t be the same “ I said finally letting out the sob I didn’t even know I was holding in

Pablo’s POV

man it broke me to see her cry and so vulnerable all of the years that I’ve known Adriana she’s never ever showed such hard emotions she’s a hard shell to crack to see her just break down in front of me made my heart take over rather then my senses and I reached to embrace her and she just cried into my chest “you’ll sing again you just have to believe it Adriana trust me if I continue this whole painful process of trying to heal my knee knowing that even if I do heal it’s not guaranteed that I’ll play the same ever again just to give up i would be disappointing everyone in my life but most importantly myself and my younger self that all it took for me to give up was one little injury not you Adriana you have a stronger mindset then that you’ll do it because of those girls in there they are your friends and your fans you wish to bring everyone pride but you have to bring yourself pride as well “ I said my hand on the back of her head and I kiss the top her head and she took her head out of my chest to look up at me “ Pablo your so talented please don’t ever give up on football it’s your dream I’ve never meet someone so in love with the game I mean the way you take about it shows just how fascinated and mesmerized you are by it “ we just stared at eachother “yk those girls will inspire you always they are your family” Pablo said smiling “and now so are you” she said giggling and he did as well “thanks gavi that all really meant a lot truly “ to which he relied “just so you know I don’t hate you “ she said and they both walked back inside.

The next week

We had just won against Madrid and I was walking back to the lockers when I hear “Gavii!” And I turn around “hola Adriana” I said “yk that talk we had the other night Gavi your like my muse now I went home and just started writing and made what would become Spotify’s top song “ she said laughing so excited “god adriana you did the damn thing “ I said also laughing “I know I did it we did it “ she said laughing and hugs me “yea I guess we did” and hugged her back .

I have an idea of how to continue this story but should I ?

#fc barca #pablo gavi #visca barca #imagines #Spotify

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anthrofreshtodeath · 1 year

Note

fake dating au? 👀

Let's do it! Fake dating is one of my favorites.

“Hey,” Jane Rizzoli runs into Maura’s office, huffing and puffing between clops of her boots on the linoleum. “Maura.”

Maura removes her blue light glasses and looks up from her report to take Jane in. “Hi,” she begins, “why are you sweaty?”

“I just ran into Frankie in the parking garage,” Jane explains. Her armpits have dark circles under them on her baby blue v-neck. Her chest shines.

“So you had to sprint in the opposite direction?” Maura asks, smiling despite her confusion. She glances up at the clock above her coffee station - 3 PM. What exactly could Frankie have caused two hours before the end of the work day?

“Yeah,” says Jane, and Maura didn’t expect a confirmation of what she means to be humor. Jane takes a big breath in and then plops herself onto Maura’s couch. “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry; I think I’m missing something,” Maura saves her work even though her word processor has an autosave feature and makes her way to Jane. “You love your brother.”

“I tolerate my brother. Most of the time,” Jane grumbles.

Maura chuckles, and shakes her head. “You love him. You do everything together.”

“Exactly. And he’s got four tickets for tonight’s game,” Jane replies, making even less sense than before.

Tonight’s game. Out of a countless number of games that could be scheduled this evening in the city, pickup basketball games, baseball games, board games, flag football games… She knows now that Jane means the Boston Red Sox game happening at 7:05 at Fenway Park. This is the first year that Maura has paid attention to baseball, from spring training on, but this is the game Jane always means. When they go to the Garden it’s the Celtics game, on Sundays at one o’clock from September to January it’s The Pats game. When it’s just the game? Jane means the Red Sox. “Tickets for the game,” Maura tries it out on her own tongue, and she likes how the intimacy with her best friend tastes. She likes even better how said best friend relaxes her body when Maura says it, Jane’s back sinking into the cushions of Maura’s sofa, inching closer regardless of her mysterious predicament. “Tickets that he isn’t sharing with you?”

“Oh no, he is, and that’s the problem,” Jane groans.

“So, you don’t want the tickets,” extrapolates Maura, and that statement tastes wrong in comparison. Her understanding of the situation continues to deteriorate.

Jane glares and the downturn of her eyebrows says are you crazy? “Of course I want the tickets. But the condition is that I go with him and his dumbass friend Kurt Rossi.”

“The solution to this seems simple,” says Maura. She folds one leg over the other, draping her skirt just above her knee. “Take the ticket and ignore both Frankie and Kurt. You can even put a seat between you and them.”

“Not that simple. He wants it to be a date.”

“For him and Kurt?” Maura asks.

“For me and Kurt!” Jane laments, and Maura chides herself - of course that’s what Frankie meant. “Wait. Your brother is setting you up? Why?”

“Because he’s the most like my mother,” Jane rolls her eyes when she answers. “But I really, really want to go.”

“So you said yes,” Maura posits.

Jane grimaces with one eye open, and gives Maura a guilty smile. “Sorta?”

“Sort of.”

“Yeah.”

“Well what did he say?”

“At first I told him hell no. Kurt’s boring,” Jane explains. “And so then he goes, ‘well it doesn’t have to be Kurt, but I’m not givin’ you this ticket unless you bring a date.’ Apparently Ma’s also holding his lunch at the cafe hostage until he gets me to go out with somebody. But I think he secretly likes it.”

“Your mother is… truly dedicated,” Maura covers her mouth so as not to laugh at Jane’s misfortune. “But Frankie is smart. You can’t pass up Fenway.”

“I can’t. So… I came up with a plan. And I need you to back me up,” Jane tells her. “I’m telling Frankie that you’re gonna be my date. Come with me?”

Maura turns rigid next to Jane, when they had all but knocked their bodies together before. Jane doesn’t know. Jane can’t know, right? Maura has dived head first into baseball, incorporated fried foods into her diet, and made a cop bar her Friday night routine, all for Jane, and to Maura, those are neon signs over her attraction. But to Jane? Well, Jane is a detective. A rather decorated one. Oh shit, maybe Jane does know…

“Hey, Maura? You hear me?” Jane asks, and Maura must have wandered off.

“I can’t,” she blurts in reply. When Jane stops talking and glares, she revises. “I… I can’t lie. You know this.”

“I know. That’s why you’re just tellin’ him you’re my date for the evening. And then, he can be fat and happy, Ma can think I went with Kurt and voila. Everyone wins,” Jane thinks she’s solved it all, clearly.

Maura can’t think of a reason to deny her, especially since being Jane’s date for the evening 1) would not technically be a lie nor necessarily have lasting romantic connotations, and 2) she would get to go on a date with Jane. Something she’s fantasized about since Jane recovered from sending a bullet into her own gut nine months ago. “O-ok,” she says.

“Wait, yeah?” Jane’s face cracks open, each muscle tightening to a symphony of happiness, and Maura wonders how she ever would have stayed steadfast in her refusal.

“Yeah,” Maura assures her. She checks the clock again. 3:05. “I would love to go. It would only be my third game.”

“Thank you!” Jane, with genuine, child-like excitement, gathers Maura up in her arms. “We’re playin’ the Jays and I do not wanna miss it.”

“You’re welcome. Should we meet there?” Maura asks, remembering the last time they went to the park, Jane rushing to their seats just before the first pitch because she had to arrest a suspect and it had turned into a chase. One man a couple rows back yelled at her to sit her ass down and she’d spent another three minutes cursing at him until he left his own seat.

In other words, Jane is a true member of the Fenway Faithful, even if she is also faithful to her job. With such a last minute engagement, Jane may need all the minutes between now and then she can get so that she can dedicate her entire attention to the game. But, she surprises Maura yet again with her answer. “Nah. What kind of date would I be if I did that? I’ll pick you up at six.” She rises, bends down and kisses Maura’s warm cheek, and then sticks her thumb in the front of her belt.

“See you then,” croaks Maura, face-to-buckle with said belt when Jane stands up straight. She licks her lips just before she glances up to Jane’s eyes, warm brown when they stare back down at her.

“See ya,” Jane leaves with less speed than she entered, but with no less purpose.

Maura must wait for two hours and fifty-three minutes to see Jane again.

___

Kurt Rossi is actually a handsome young man. Maura has learned on the way to the park that he is between Frankie and Jane, so two years removed from both of them. His laugh is pretty for a man’s, but it barely registers because Jane is here.

Jane is here, Jane is relaxed because Jane had a couple of beers when they stopped at The Bullpen, and Jane walks next to Maura with their index fingers entwined. Maura keeps her new beer up to her face as they circle the concourse just so no one notices her blush.

This might be her favorite Jane.

“What’s the over under on Beckett strikin’ out ten tonight?” Frankie tosses his head toward his shoulder so he can call out to his sister behind him. A rush of jealousy tickles Maura, because why does he need to monopolize Jane’s attention if his friend his here? Kurt supposedly knows all there is to know about Boston baseball. Maybe jealousy isn’t the right word. A rush of possession? Ugh. It’s all irrational.

Jane shrugs and it reverberates all the way down into Maura’s palm. “‘02 was a long time ago,” her voice booms right outside the Budweiser Deck where the Rizzolis plan to spend the first few innings of the game. “I’m takin’ the under.”

“What’s ‘the under’?” Maura whispers into Jane’s ear when they take a high table close to the railing over right field and set all their drinks down.

“It’s a betting thing,” Jane explains. “You have a figure and if you don’t think the athlete is gonna make the figure, you take the under. If you think they’re gonna surpass it, you take the over.”

“Do you bet on these games?” Maura gasps.

Kurt laughs from his place across from her. Maura tries not to snap that he’s blocking her view of the field. “You kiddin’ me? These goody two shoes would never,” he says. When both Jane and Maura glare at him for his audacity, still connected at the fingers, he coughs. Frankie widens his eyes and finds the Bud logo on the tabletop fascinating. “It’s just… just the way we talk,” Kurt adds, almost to himself.

“Hey, tell you what. You two meet us at our seats,” Jane says after a few extra tense minutes of staring. “But don’t rush.”

Maura slides her entire hand into Jane’s simply for saving her from Kurt. When their skin touches, she realizes it calls for more than holding hands. She blames the beer just before she tugs Jane’s jersey close, fingers closing around the D in the RED SOX print, and kisses her.

Jane’s lips are soft. Jane’s mouth tastes like hops and cinnamon gum. Jane’s tongue sure does slip in quite quickly after Maura initiates and… maybe Jane blames the beer, too.

But good god does it curl Maura’s toes inside her Gucci sneakers.

“You know what? I’ll pay you double what the tickets cost if you don’t meet us at our seats,” Maura, finding her own voice, says. She looks only at Jane, smiling at Jane’s half-open mouth, but the proposition is definitely for Frankie.

Frankie’s mouth looks exactly like his sister’s. Maura tugs Jane toward the concourse, unwilling to wait around and watch him fix it when Kurt says to him, “I see what you mean when you said I didn’t have a chance in hell.”

#lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #otp prompts march 2023 #I'm sorry these are taking me so long to get out 💀#after this we have three left #take me back to Fenway

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footballffbarbiex · 2 years

Text

Who’s Afraid Of The Big Bad Wolf?

player: Dusan Vlahovic words: 400 request: Dusan Vlahovic | 250 - 500 | no pref | “Any ideas on couples costumes?” Trying to get him to wear a cute matching costume for a team Halloween party. He says no. She buys it anyway. He’s having none of it. But of course manages to talk him round ;) and he gets called cute all night much to his dismay and her enjoyment

On a scale of one to ten, Dusan should have known his disappointment levels would reach 10 or more when she asked him to come with her to find the perfect Halloween costume. He had been adamant that he would not dress up, that he was only there to be able to give her his opinion on which he liked the most.

But the feeling of dread washed over him when the sales assistant approached them with a cheery, but clearly forced smile, and asked the question he’d silently begged her not to say. “So, any ideas on couples costumes?”

Before he could say “absolutely not,” his girlfriend was already nodding excitedly and discussing her ideas as the two of them walked away, leaving him alone in the middle of the aisle shaking his head surrounded by costumes, wigs and props.

She had, of course, scooped everything up that was linked to her choice and bounded out of there happily with her hands full of bags and a spring in her step before placing everything in the boot of the car and climbed into the passenger side. Dusan entertained her on the journey home, listening to her excited talk about the party while having no intention of actually wearing the costume.

“Come on baby, I know you wanna put that costume on,” she climbs onto his lap, fluffing up the skirt of the Little Red Riding Hood costume and adjusting her hooded cape so that it drapes over the back of her properly.

“I’m not being the Big Bad Wolf.” He states firmly, hating that with the way she’s sitting on his lap means that her boobs are perfectly positioned in front of his face.

“Anything I can do to help…” she trails her finger down his chest, eyes following her hand’s journey until she looks back up at him.

“Help what?”

“Help persuade you to put it on.” She tries again, this time she circles her hips against him. “I won’t tell you how cute,” she places a light kiss on his lips, “or adorable,” another kiss, “or how much I’d love to tame you,” another kiss, “or make putting you in a collar comments.”

The sound of his slow exhale mimics a growl and by the time she climbs from his lap, he’s made up his mind.

She may have not made comments, but his teammates certainly did.

If you’d like to be added/removed/update your URL, then please let me know here. Crossed out means that tumblr cannot find your blog at this time.

forever non smut: @Yagetintoit |

#dusan vlahovic one shot #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic blurb #dusan vlahovic drabble #dusan vlahovic fanfic #football one shot #football imagine #football blurb #football drabble #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer drabble #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction

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kangaracha · 2 years

Note

If you’re taking fic prompts: how the wolves dynamic changes after the elders take back the pack

“This is so unfair,” Wynter huffs as they scale the rocks, braids swaying to and fro above him.

“They’re the elders,” Willa says from somewhere above her, somehow not out of breath at all. “They were always in charge. Nothing’s changed.”

“Oh, everything’s changed.” Wynter stops, one hand clinging to the boulder while the other reaches down to tug at her boot, jamming her heel further into the sole. “We found the moonstone and stopped the humans from attacking us. What did they ever do?”

“You can’t talk like that, Wynter.”

“Only if you tell me not to, because you’re the Alpha.”

Their argument fades into background noise as they climb, the wind picking their voices up off the rock and carrying them out into the open air. Wyatt lets them go ahead, lingering as if searching for better footholds, or enjoying the view that slowly expands around them as they get higher and higher up the mountain.

It’s a glorious day despite the circumstances, perfectly warm with the smallest breeze to tug at them as they climb, cooling the sweat as it drips down their brows. The forest is verdantly blooming around them, the mountain’s peak clean-cut against the sky above. If he squints, Seabrook glistens in the distance, perched on the edge of the sea like a jewel washed up from the ocean.

It’s just a pity that there’s a hole in his stomach a mile deep, that his limbs burn with the kind of ache that he will pay for later, and that the ink still drying on his cheek is set in a foreign pattern, itching like an old skin that doesn’t fit him anymore.

“Wyatt!” Wynter shrieks from the top of the outcrop, her voice rising higher with every syllable. He tugs himself over the edge reluctantly, sparing a glance at Willa as his knees hit the level ground. “Tell her that this isn’t fair.”

His sister shakes her head, her mouth pressed into a thin, unhappy line.

Right. He’s the pacifier. Beta – except that he isn’t anymore. So easy to forget for a moment, and so crushing when the memory returns.

“There’s not much we can do about it,” he says in what he hopes is a mollifying voice, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously. “Even if it isn’t fair, it’s what the pack wants.”

Willa’s eyes are like knives digging into the back of his neck. It would almost be intimidating, if he hadn’t shared a womb with her, and everything since.

“It is not,” Wynter scoffs, and draws herself up to her full height, hands on her hips. “I’ve heard them talking. No one is happy about it.”

“Just shut up, Wynter,” Willa snaps, and collapses flat on her back on the stone.

They stare at her – Wynter in shock, Wyatt in…something else. He’s too numb to name the feeling that stirs in his gut; only the answers to the look on his sister’s face spring to his mind. Embarrassment, and the cold, bitter anger that just stung Wynter. Doubt, maybe, that unease that creeps in when someone looks you in the eye and tells you that you are not good enough.

He’d thought Willa was immune to that one, but she’d placed most of her heart into the pack, and that vulnerability was where they’d struck her the hardest.

“Don’t you guys want to lead the pack anymore?” Wynter asks in the silence that follows.

Willa ignores her. Wyatt ignores the urge to roll his eyes at her (to worry about her). “We were only the leaders while the real Alpha was sick, Wynter,” he says instead. “We don’t have any claim to the title now.”

“But what about Seabrook, and our friends? If we can’t go-”

“We’re werewolves, not humans,” Willa says, glaring at the sky. “We shouldn’t be in that town at all.”

“Speak for yourself,” Wynter grumbles. “I liked froyo! And football! Tell her, Wyatt.”

“Willa,” Wyatt sighs obediently. They are equals now, after all.

His sister sits up, leveling her gaze at him.

She’s got that look on her face now, he realises, the one that means cajoling and playing nice with her isn’t going to work – her opinion is her opinion, and nothing is going to change her mind. “You can just say that you’re angry about their decision,” he says instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know that I know that you don’t think that you were a bad alpha. And I know you liked Seabrook, even when you said you hated it.”

“So?” Willa spits.

“So,” Wyatt sighs in response. “Just admit that you’re sad so that we can move on to the next argument.”

Willa glares at him. He stares back, unflinching, waiting patiently for her composure to wear thin.

“Fine,” she exclaims, throwing her hands into the air. “Maybe I’m sad because I’m not the alpha. And angry at them. And maybe I miss Addison and our friends a little bit. But I don’t see how talking about it is going to help.”

There’s a pause, and then Wynter asks, “Would doing something help, then?”

“What do you want to do, make our own pack?” Willa snaps. “Move into Seabrook and go to that stupid school and hang out with zombies and humans?”

“Yes!” Wynter exclaims, a little too enthusiastically. Willa’s gaze whips from her to Wyatt, who shrugs noncommittally.

“Froyo is good,” he says, mostly to get a rise out of her.

She stares at them with wild eyes. “You’re both insane,” she says. “The elders would never forgive us. You want to leave the forest forever?”

“The elders wouldn’t exile us forever,” Wyatt replies, reason springing into his mind. “We still have the moonstone. And our pack is too many wolves for them to lose.”

“It’s like another revolution!” Wynter adds.

Slowly, Willa looks between them, and smiles.

#disney zombies #zombies 2 #zombies 3 #z2 #z3 #willa zombies #wyatt lykensen #wyatt zombies #willa lykensen #wynter zombies #wynter barkowitz #why do these always end up at 1k #this was supposed to be short lmfao #roo writes

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casual-violinist-fangirl · 1 year

Text

Carry You: 1,747 Words

. Modern AU Crosshair and Omega hurt/comfort fic!

. Omega has been adopted, but only recently.

. When Crosshair gets in from work all he wants to do is go to bed, but his little sister seems to have other ideas.

. Also posted on AO3 (link in comments)

. Some swearing, you have been warned!

Crosshair flopped into the cushions of the sofa, trying not to groan as the weight was finally taken off of his feet. He had just finished his shift at the bar, on a day when the football was on and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and let sleep consume him for the next three days. Dealing with the bar’s usual clients was bad enough, but adding drunk sports fans into the mix… he barely suppressed a shudder as he thought of all of the things that he’d seen that evening.

He should probably go to bed, he thought absently as he leaned forward and started to unlace his black boots. At least if he was in bed he wouldn’t be disrupted when all of his brothers started going about their days. The only issue with that, in Crosshair’s mind at least, was that his bedroom was all the way upstairs, and he was not. And the sofa was fairly comfortable considering it had come third hand from a distant relative.

Making up his mind that he simply couldn’t be bothered to move upstairs he stretched out his legs in front of him, hissing as they ached from his shift. The others had always said he could do better than work in a bar, but he sort of enjoyed the buzz of the nightlife, even if it did mean that he had to work sporting events and deal with hen parties on the regular. Besides, what would he do instead? He wasn’t good for much else, or at least that’s what he told himself. Hunter would probably say otherwise, but Hunter had always been soft like that, especially since…

… creak.

The sound made his head shoot up from where it had been resting against the back of the sofa and he jumped out of his skin. He scowled, getting ready to berate whichever of his brothers appeared at the bottom of the stairs for ruining the peace and quiet, but was cut short when he saw exactly who was coming down the stairs.

‘Omega?’ he squinted in the dark, and sure enough the little girl stepped into the room swaddled in her duvet and looking a little pathetic.

‘Oh, hey Crosshair,’ she mumbled, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. ‘I didn’t realise anyone was down here, I…’ she trailed off a little helplessly and Crosshair noticed the way her eyes darted between him and the door to the kitchen. ‘I’ll just go back to bed,’ she turned around going to make her retreat and her brother rolled his eyes before standing. So much for peace and quiet.

‘Sit down,’ he chided her and she looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

‘You’re sure? I don’t want to bother you…’ The little girl was already heading towards the sofa despite her comments about going back to bed.

‘Are you after water?’ He ignored her comment, deciding to instead make himself useful. Looking over at her slight frame he spotted the dark circles under her eyes, tinged with red and looking a little on the damp side. She’d been crying. Again.

A minuscule nod from her told him all he needed to know, and he headed out into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

It wasn’t that Crosshair didn’t like Omega; truth be told, he adored the girl and would do anything for her, just as his brothers would. Rescuing her from her vile mother had consumed so much of their time in the past few months, and there had been times when it had looked as though they were fighting and losing a custody battle. Omega had been determined to stay with her half-brothers, and the sobs of relief that had left her when full time custody had been confirmed reduced the rest of their family to tears as well. He was just… wary of her at times. When she was upset she could be a loose canon. He had learnt this the hard way when she had needed to go to the dentist and had barricaded herself in her room, screaming and sobbing and begging Hunter not to take her there.

He worried for her at times. The things she spoke of when she was discussing her past sent chill down his spine and made him want to go and give Nala Se a piece of his mind. How could someone abuse a child, especially a girl like Omega, who was so happy and positive (well, most of the time anyway). She loved fiercely and had settled into the family well, breaking down Crosshair’s well constructed armour to protect him from being hurt.

‘I thought you were supposed to be going to Cut’s tonight,’ he commented offhandedly as he brought the glass into the room and set it down in front of his sister. She remained quiet for some time, sipping the water cautiously. Crosshair resisted the urge to sigh; he was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep off a long night’s work. Pulling himself together and summoning all of his patience, he perched on the sofa next to the little girl, waiting for her be ready to talk.

What felt like an age passed, and Crosshair was beginning to think that maybe Omega had dozed off, when her shaking voice cut through the silence.

‘I…I didn’t want to have another nightmare and not be at home,’ she stammered, and when her brother looked at her he could see her eyes glistening with unshed tears once more. ‘Hunter spoke to Cut and he said it was fine, but I didn’t want to scare my friends…’ she snivelled, looking ashamed and embarrassed. Crosshair paused, trying to summon the right thing to say, but his mind kept coming up blank.

‘What sort of ten year old is scared of spending time away from her brothers in case she has a nightmare?!’ Clearly Omega was not done talking, and the frustration in her tone hinted that she was more upset by this than she had originally expressed. She glared as she spoke. ’Why did Nala Se have to fuck me up so much that I can’t have a normal life and do things that kids my age do, I…’ She trailed off, her anger making it difficult for her to find the right words. Her fists were clenched and frustrated tears were streaming down her cheeks. ‘What she did hurt me. It was wrong, and I’m so… so angry.’

As if saying it solved her problems, the anger was suddenly sapped out of her along with most of her energy. Crosshair swooped in just in time to grab the glass from her hands as it slipped and he placed it on the table before kneeling in front of his sister. She flopped into him, leaning her head into his shoulder and sobbing, though her cries were quiet, subdued almost. All Crosshair could do in this moment was hold her, rubbing soothing circles on her back in the same way Hunter would. When she eventually calmed down and sat up again, she looked exhausted. Her brother lifted her under her armpits and settled her back on the sofa properly, tucking her duvet around her.

‘I have an idea,’ he said and stood, trying not to hiss as his muscles screamed at him to stop for the day and rest. He disappeared into the kitchen and rummaged around, knowing exactly what he was looking for… aha! A bag of sweet popcorn tumbled out of the cupboard. Not thinking much about what time it was, he poured a substantial amount into a bowl and re-entered the living room carrying it. Omega looked up from her cocoon, a slightly confused expression on her face.

‘Don’t tell Hunter,’ he winked subtly at her with a small smile on his face. Turning the TV on, he set up his Netflix account and scrolled through until he found what he was looking for. Omega watching this, her interest piqued; she never got to watch TV with Crosshair because of his work schedule so this was rare for them and she was interested in what he was going to put on.

Eventually Crosshair pressed play on a show and sat back in his seat, placing the bowl of popcorn between himself and his little sister. Omega squinted at the screen and read the title of the show out loud.

‘She-ra?’ she questioned, wrinkling her nose. ‘What is this?’ Crosshair had the energy left in him to pretend to look offended, making her laugh a little. ‘Yes, She-ra,’ he replied. ‘This is a re-make though, it came out a couple of years ago. It’s a work of art and I won’t put up with you suggesting otherwise.’ Omega giggled, nodding at that and before long the pair of them were absorbed in the programme and eating popcorn. Crosshair looked down at his little sister. Her cheeks were still tear-stained and her eyes were puffy from crying but she seemed to be enjoying herself now.

As if reading his mind, Omega shuffled in her seat so that she was closer to him, and in a fairly clumsy motion shifted so that the duvet that she had been wrapped in was over his legs as well as hers.

‘Thanks for helping me feel better, Cross,’ she mumbled sleepily as she nestled herself into his side, giving him no choice but to put his arm around her. He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before relaxing and curling his legs up underneath him.

‘No worries, kid.’

————

The following morning, Wrecker had come bounding down the stairs and into the living room, only to halt suddenly. Echo had nearly walked into the back of him and went to scold him, but was cut off by a frantic ‘Shush!’

There in front of them, curled up on the sofa was Omega and Crosshair, still in his work clothes and his boots discarded on the floor. The TV was quietly babbling away in the background as they slept and Echo noted with a level of exasperation that his popcorn had been opened last night. Ah well, it was clearly for a good cause. Wrecker snapped a picture on his phone and posted it in the family chat.

Clearly Omega had managed to have the sleepover she had wanted after all, even if it was with her brother and not her school friends.

#bad batch #the bad batch #modern au #fanfic #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #fluff #hurt/comfort #Crosshair is a great brother #I said what I said #he also works in a bar #siblings

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radellama · 2 years

Note

So I have question I'd like to run past you- in resident evil 7, do you think Lucas really killed that kid he trapped in the attic?

Cause when I started thinking about it, I'm not so sure. I mean, yeah he totally kills people now, but that happened before their brains got all mouldy, and I think that the other kids' parents would've noticed when he didn't come back from the birthday party, and that the Bakers definitely would've heard him up there and done something about it.

So my theory is that he locked him up there, and maybe didn't ever intend to let him out, but Zoe found him and let him and the story in his diary(?) of the smell and the dripping and all that was like a wish fulfillment/power fantasy of what he wanted to have happened, had Zoe not interfered.

Then the next time the kid picked on him, or called him names, (if he even would after that) Lucas could just be like, "you're not here, you're rotting in my attic."

Whatcha think? Or am I pulling too much?

Great question!

To put it simply- Yes, I think he did.

While this incident with Oliver (the kid he trapped in the attic) DID happen before they got all mouldy, from some lore notes we can find, we can infer that Lucas wasn't always mentally well. Here is the transcript of his childhood diary and the torn journal page you can find in the kids bedroom:

From these we know two things for sure- Lucas was displaying symptoms that were mentally or socially abnormal enough that his parents sought professional help (head scan) and that he was very intelligent. You can also see how intelligent he was by the amount of trophies in his room - three for engineering and one for ameteur robotics.

I also booted up the game again to grab these screenshots, cause I couldn't find them online haha. But on the posters near his bed, you can see writing on them.

I can't quite make out everything in the blue one, but what is clear is the 'DEAD DEAD DEAD' at the bottom. And on the American Football one, it says 'Every time I look at the river I look for dead bodies.'

So uh… As much as I don't want to believe he killed a child when he was one himself, everything is there to tell us that he did. Just based on the comment he made about the body starting to smell and leak through the ceiling, Oliver was stuck there until he rotted.

As for your points about the other parents noticing his absence- unfortunately there just isn't enough text to state definitively what happened… We can only guess; maybe Oliver didn't have the best family, and his absence wasn't noticed for a while, or they thought he had run away.

And as for the Bakers hearing/smelling him… That is a huge, old house- the Baker's master bedroom is in a completely separate part of the house, the only person that interacted with that room enough to cause concern would've been Zoe, and we know Lucas hid the switch for the attic to prevent her from finding out. I think that after a while of not being 'heard,' Oliver would've screamed himself raw and lost his voice, or simply stopped trying to call out. Keep in mind that when you're starved and dehydrated, it gets harder and harder to use your body, so to be stuck like that, maybe Oliver just gave up? It didn't take long for him to die, based on the dates in the diary, we can assume it's the end of April that this all takes place, as he notices the gross stuff on the 2nd of May.

In regards to you suggesting it is a fantasy… Perhaps it could be fabricated, but honestly, I'd lean more towards it being real. If Zoe were to have found Oliver and helped return him to his family, I doubt Lucas would be chillin the way he has been. He would've faced severe consequences, with Oliver telling people what happened and Zoe as a witness… It just seems too messy to me based on the text we do get in game.

#asks #future dregs #re7 #lucas baker #thanks for this!! i love talking resi lore and it was fun booting up again even though it was brief haha #feel free to ask anything im more than happy to go through again or research where i can!#rads asks

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genderflu1dwh0r · 1 year

Text

JD angst. I changed it from Chansaw angst to JD angst.

Warnings: suicide. I didn't proof read this.

It was pouring. He was inside his room. JD fiddled with his pen, he was emotional and couldn't take it anymore. He nearly snapped his pen in two when he got up, he just wanted it to be over. He threw on his coat and grabbed his keys. Before he left his room, he grabbed the note. His note.

Jason went to the front door and put his boots on before tying them up and going out. He had gotten on his bike and sped off to Veronica's house. He did his usual thing, park down the road, walk to her house, and climb in through her window.

Once he got to her window, he saw her on her bed with Heather, they were studying, well, Veronica was, Heather was spacing off. He tapped the window and both girls looked over. He waved as Veronica smiled and got up. She slid the window open and watched the drenched boy stare at her.

"Greetings and salutations." He said like a dork, he combed his fingers through his wet hair and sighed. Veronica smiled more. "Now, what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked, hearing Heather get off of the bed.

JD raised his eyebrows like he always did and shook his head while licking his lips. "Nothing, just wanted to say... I hope you are having a goodnight. And uh, stay safe." He said looking into her eyes. Veronica got an off feeling and furrowed her brows.

"What do you mean?" She asked. Jason shrugged and sighed. "Nothing, Sawyer. Just... I love you, you two have a goodnight." He said making eye contact with Heather. Heather stared at him, not knowing what to do.

Veronica shook her head. "No no, you can come inside." She said grabbing his hand, he quickly snapped his hand back and shook his head. "No!... No... I'm fine." He said starting to get ready to leave. "Goodnight." He said firmly before going down the ladder.

Veronica watched him and was saddened by how he was being. She watched him walk back to the sidewalk and watched until he was out of view. She heard his bike start and she sighed. Heather put a hand on her shoulder and eventually got them back on the bed.

Jason was thinking of crashing, but he didn't really want to do that. He drove down to the school and parked. He got off of his bike and turned it off. He went to the football field and sat on the bleachers, watching the rain, aswell as getting poured on.

He sniffled as he wiped his nose. Jason took his gun out of his pocket and looked at it. "Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid." He growled at himself. He immediately shoved the gun into his mouth and paused. Jason stared at his hand and the gun, waiting.

He didn't want to wait, cause he knew he would chicken out. He pulled the trigger and there he went. His brain, blood, and scull went out and you couldn't recognize him except for the coat, anyone knew that coat.

He had kept his suicide note in his pocket for people to find. He was a scared boy with problems, he wanted help.

#heathers #jamie fic #heathers 1988 #heathers movie #jason dean #young christian slater #christian slater #jd heathers #heathers jd #jdonica

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morulezopelforever · 1 year

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Some Snippets from my ATWD Khinkali Series

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3240997

If you like Merab, Irakli and their friends from the movie you will luuuuv them in my fics on Archive of our Own. Here are some tasty bits:

Mum walked in scratching and yawning, wearing an old bathrobe over flannel pyjamas and with her hair disheveled.

‘Ah, the dead have risen,’ Grandma sighed. ‘You’re never up this early.’

‘I am now. I woke from the cold. The heating is off. Is there any coffee going?’

‘No. For your information, the electricity was cut off...Again.’

Grandma, a little more visible now in the growing daylight, raised her hands like a priest dispensing a blessing.

‘You should marry your Mr. Lasha, Teona. He’s rich. You’re his cleaning lady, but you like him and he likes you. Have him marry you, then you and I can both finally rest.’

‘I won’t, Mother.’

‘Why not?’

‘His wife wouldn’t like it for one thing.’

‘Ay, ay, ay, what years we’ve lived.’

(From ‘’Another Glorious Day in Tbilisi’)

The Scotsman carefully dissected the construction with his spoon, took a bite and then spat it out.

‘What’s this?’ he roared. ‘You call this cottage pie?’

‘Quite an audacious remark for someone whose home town is famous for its deep-fried Mars bars,’ Ninutsa scoffed.

The other students giggled. ‘Quiet!’ Aleko snapped in Georgian.

The blond man was alternately gagging and drinking water.

‘This was frozen an then reheated, right?’ he asked David. ‘It’s definitely not fresh. It’s hard as a rock.’

‘My father owns a construction company,’ Sopo said calmly. ‘It was the easiest thing for me to scoop up some debris from a demolition site…There’s real cottage in that cottage pie, sir, so it’s as authentic as anything.’

(From ‘Joining Forces’)

Irakli went to the counter and drafted a glass. The pompons of his mariachi hat were dangling in front of his glasses, blocking his view and thus causing him to spill beer onto the floor.

Merab walked past, nearly slipped in the puddle but managed to come to a screeching halt on the heels of his cowboy boots. He smiled and mopped up the mess. ‘Love,’ Irakli whispered, feeling his heart contract at the sight of the beautiful creature who looked so angelic in his embroidered Mexican jacket. Then he took the beer to Ioseb’s table.

‘Have you chosen a dish yet?’ he asked.

Merab’s father nodded, smiling now. ‘Yes. I’d like a Sloppy Ioseb sandwich. Sounds good to me.’

‘Oh yes!’ Irakli confirmed. ‘Sopo created it in your honour.’

‘My future daughter-in-law is a lovely lass,’ Ioseb said. ‘And I am glad that Merab is finally doing something useful with his life under your influence.’

Irakli cast a glance at Merab, who was now clumsily drafting beer and singing Pistolero to amuse the guests at the counter.

‘Useful?’ Irakli said to Joseb. ‘Well, I’m trying my best, and…’

Joseb pointed at the menu. ‘And oh yes, I’d like some Mexikhinkali and eggplant fritters for a main course…Thanks, son.’

(From ‘Not in a Million Years’)

David wound his way through throngs of people down a lane at the Eliava Bazaar until he got to his father’s car part stall.

‘Morning, son,’ Ioseb greeted him. ‘Do sit down. Could you spare your old man a fag? Business has been bad lately.’

David offered him a cigarette, lit up one himself and settled on a crate.

‘What brings you here at such an early hour?’ Dad then asked. ‘Some beef with your girl?’

David shook his head. No, there’s no beef between Sopo and me, he thought, if only it were so because it would mean we were living together at our little flat undisturbed. Everything I wanted from watching football on TV to inviting my mates over for drinks and making love to her has been impossible ever since Aleko moved in, but I won’t tell Dad any of this.

‘It’s something else then,’ Dad tried. ‘Money trouble?’

‘No.’ In fact, he and Sopo were making loads and had no time to spend it.

Now Dad smiled. ‘Ah! So you’ve done what any man should do before he turns twenty-five…By the way, Sopo is older than you, it’s ridiculous…Anyhow, did it finally happen?’

‘I don’t understand, Dad.’

‘Did she have a visit from the Holy Spirit?’

‘What?’

‘She in the family way?’

‘What?’

Dad angrily stubbed out his cigarette. ‘You dumb calf…Did you get her pregnant?’

David felt anger surge within him. He and Sopo had decided not to start a family until she had earned her PhD, which would be some three years down the road.

‘No, nothing of that kind,’ he sighed. ‘I’m just tired. Our tenant is a nuisance.’

(From ‘Expansion’)

Ready for some fun? Read all about the adventures of Merab, Irakli, David, Sopo, Mary, Ninutsa, Luka and...Aleko under this link:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3240997

#and then we danced #atwd fandom #merab x irakli #merab/irakli #read on ao3

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sharperthewriter · 1 year

Text

Chapter 7 of Roneo and Kimliet

Chapter 7

Bonnie headed down the stairs to meet the girls.

The Ashleys came in first. Ashley B and Ashley T were wearing blue and green tube tops, respectively, with baggy Club Banana carpenter jeans. Ashley A, like Bonnie, was wearing her Club Banana baggy denim overalls. She wore hers with the bib down but with straps still hooked and a belt to hold them up. Ashley Q was in a purple Britina shirt and a Club Banana denim jumpsuit that was unbuttoned. She tied up the sleeves to hold it up. While Ashley A and Ashley T went with pink sneakers, Ashley Q and Ashley B went with high-heeled boots. They all had giant gold hoop earrings and various expensive gold and silver necklaces and bracelets.

Hope and Amanda came in last. Hope was in a short pink dress and black high heels. and Amanda, like Ashley Q, was in the Club Banana denim jumpsuit. Pairing it with a pink Britina shirt, she had the jumpsuit unbuttoned and only wore the left sleeve up and had the right sleeve tucked in behind her back. She had giant gold hoop earrings as well and brown high-heeled boots.

Within the garage, there were seven metal folding chairs. and a card table. Bonnie and the rest of her clique's girls sat down in the chairs.

"So now that this week's meeting of The Seven is officially in progress, is everyone, including myself, here?" Bonnie asked, for she was the leader of the group.

The other six girls raised their hands in unison.

"Good, now that everybody is present, should we get to our main topic of the day?" Bonnie snickered with a grin.

"You mean humiliating the nerds by telling the football players to give them swirlies?" Ashley T asked.

"No, AT." Bonnie said with a vile smirk.

Ashley Q then raised her hand.

"Or maybe spreading a gossip/rumor that Josh has been cheating on Tara but that she doesn't know about it?"

Bonnie shook her head.

"No, AQ. Not that either."

Ashley B then raised her hand.

"Go, AB!" Bonnie exclaimed, pointing to Ashley B.

"Get this, girls. We humiliate both Possible and Stoppable in front of a crowd of people!"

"Ding! Ding! We have a winner!" Bonnie laughed.

She also added, "So, AB, do you have anything juicy to share with us? I mean, I did command you to spy on both Possible and Stoppable."

Ashley B smiled confidently and pulled out a tape recorder from her purse.

"Don't worry, B. I got that part covered!"

"Good!" Bonnie cackled, "Now, play the tape."

Ashley B snicked, "Got it! Oh and as a forewarning, it contains juicy and...scandalous...details!"

Bonnie rubbed her hands in glee!

"Ooooo! Let's hear it!"

And so, Ashley B played the tape. It contained the juicy details of Ron getting humiliated in his one and only non-tree-related role as the Cowardly Lion when he was being pursued by the makeshift flying monkeys.

Bonnie sighed "Oh, Stoppable. Can you even keep your clothes on for one day?" She also added, "It was a good thing I paid the Robotics Team $100 just to tie those stuffed monkeys onto the toy helicopters!"

Then it got to the part with Kim messing up her lines in MacBeth in her freshman year when she first laid eyes on Josh and getting an F.

"Ohhh...Possible, suffering the drama much?"

"And...oooh...here's the best part!" Ashley B grinned as she fast-forwarded to Kim and Ron's conversation with Monique.

"Getting back to the ish at hand." Kim intervened, "Basically, Barkin is going to reveal the final cast list on Monday. Once he says the name, it's going to be official. As long as me and Ron do not end up in the starting roles, we should be good to be making at the very least a B on this course."

"I'm with Kim on this as well!" Ron agreed, "If I want to be a tree holding the branches...so be it! Even though it would be hard to get out of when I have to use the bathroom."

"But what would happen if, by some chance the students playing Romeo and Juliet end up getting sick and you were pressed by Barkin to take those roles?" Tara asked.

"The both of us would face major humiliation!" Kim exclaimed. "Based on our previous experiences on the stage that we mentioned before!"

"On a humiliation scale of one to five, one being 'ehh, I'll get over this' and five being 'OMG, I can never show my face at school ever again', where would it rank?" Monique asked.

"A definite five, Monique. We would get showered with neverending jeers and boos! Me and Ron would hide ourselves from everyone, even you two, if that were to happen." Kim explained. "Even Drakken's plan with the blushing thing with the flower would be small pebbles compared to this!"

"Wait!" Bonnie insisted, "Go back 30 seconds!"

Ashley B rewound the tape by 30 seconds as Bonnie commanded her.

"But what would happen if, by some chance the students playing Romeo and Juliet end up getting sick and you were pressed by Barkin to take those roles?"

"The both of us would face major humiliation!"

Bonnie gasped with sheer delight.

"Play it again!"

Ashley B did so.

"...and you were pressed by Barkin to take those roles?"

"The both of us would face major humiliation!"

Bonnie confidently replied, "Girls...I found the perfect way to destroy Possible and Stoppable's rep at school for good!"

(AN: had to put in the italics)

#kim possible #fanfiction #roneo and kimliet #chapter 7 #bonnie rockwaller #the ashleys #recess

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