#Our boy really one day went out there wanting to get married as a teen like a true classic Disney princess. 😭

[screwpinecaprice]

Just a silly guy, with silly silly thoughts.

@glowweek Day 2

Casual | Surprise

A casual surprise?😬😬😬

#Hooooo boiii this lad is about to get funky. #He was internally screaming the whole time. #It's in my core memory as a connverse fan. I'm never truly going to let this up I believe. haha #Our boy really one day went out there wanting to get married as a teen like a true classic Disney princess. 😭 #It was honestly endearing but sad and also pretty embarrassing. 😔 #Secondhand embarrassment aside. Steven is pretty much lucky in the romance department. Which. Deserved by the way. With all the other #crap he had to deal with. #connverse #Steven Quartz Universe #Connie Maheswaran #SU #my shiz #comic #SU comic #glowweek #connverse week #I have no idea if whatever Connie is spouting are actuallt true in real life. Good thing this can be chalked off as just a thing in their #fictional world. #Also I'm glad part of that was covered by Connie's body because I had to take a few notes from chat GPT to add in her enumerated rambling. #I had to make the glow bracelet float like that because I couldn't draw his hand holding it quiet right in that angle. #And yea that size difference is no error. That's how small Connie's wrist is compared to his hands. Or at least something like that. #teal

[starkwlkr]

Hiii! okay maybe teen mathéo likes a girl so he could talk to charles about it and ask for advice a little father son moment would be cool.

numbers | charles leclerc

hello lovely anon! thanks for the request! for this imagine, I’m going to include mikey and demri schumacher. they are characters that belong to @cs55version from their mick series that i am absolutely in love with!!

I JUST STAY IN MY ROOM TOO LONG BUT I FINALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S THE BOMB — numbers by tempered

While the media saw Ruby Leclerc as the loud, but funny child of Ferrari driver, Charles Leclerc, they sometimes forgot about Mathéo Leclerc, the shy and quiet boy. It wasn’t a bad thing (Mathéo’s exact words). The boy liked not being in the spotlight.

He enjoyed art museums and going to see musicals with his mother and grand-mère. But there were sometimes when the media did question whether or not he would follow in the footsteps of his father. From a young age, Mathéo decided not to pursue a career in formula 1 and his family respected that.

Even the kids at school would ask him when he would start karting. He would always answer with “I’m not going to be a driver. Ask my older sister.”

He grew tired of people at school always asking him about Ferrari, his father and uncle, asking for paddock passes. It was always the same people, people he never even talked to. But there was one day when a girl who had just moved to Monaco came up to him during lunch.

Mathéo’s usual friend, Robin, was sick so he remained home. Now it looked like Mathéo didn’t have any friends and sat alone during lunch.

“Hi. Is it okay if I sit here?” The girl asked, pointing to the chair across Mathéo.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” He replied then went back to eating his sandwich that his mother had made him.

“I’m Giselle.” The girl introduced herself.

“My name is Mathéo, but with an h in between the t and e. A lot of people forget about the h.” He explained.

“Oh, okay. Mine is with two l’s so it’s not like the supermodel’s name, you know the one that was married to Tom Brady?” She asked.

“I don’t know who Tom Brady is, but I know who Gisele Bündchen is. My maman had dinner with her last week.” He said casually. “Wait, you don’t have an accent.” He quickly noticed.

“I’m from America, but my mother’s side of the family is from here. My mom got a really good job offer so here we are,” Giselle explained. “My mom has about of an accent though. She was born here but left when she was ten I think.”

Mathéo had a crush on a girl before. Her name was Eloise. She was the sister of the most popular girl in school so when Eloise asked Mathéo out to the movies, the boy thought it was just some kind of prank.

Giselle seemed nice, she listened when Mathéo had something to say, laughed at his jokes when he made one and she didn’t know of Mathéo’s last name so at least he didn’t have to worry about that yet.

As the school day came to an end, he walked back home only to find Mikey and Demri Schumacher and his sister eating in the kitchen while his mother was on the phone talking.

“Hey, Théo! Missed you.” Demri ruffled his hair as he passed by her to get to the refrigerator.

“You can keep him if you want. I see him all the time.” Ruby teased.

“Maman! Ruby wants to give me away to the Schumacher’s!” Mathéo yelled. He ignored the laughs coming from then teenagers and grabbed a juice then walked out the kitchen.

“Ruby, what did I say about trying to sell your brother?” Y/n groaned from her spot in the sofa.

“Uncle Mick won’t mind having him around!”

“Hi, maman. Is papa around?” The fourteen year old boy asked shyly. He needed his father’s opinion on Giselle.

“He’s in our room, baby. He might be asleep, but you can go check.”

“Oh. I’ll let him sleep then. I’m going to my room.” Mathéo said. He knew how hard his father worked so he rather wait to have a conversation with him. He walked up the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him.

Y/n could see the defeated face on her boy. “Mom, I’m going to call you back. Bye.” She hung up the phone. She got up and walked to her and Charles’ room where he was sleeping peacefully on their bed. He had just gotten back from Belgium and he decided he wanted to have a nap before dinner.

“Charles, sweetheart,” Y/n gently shook his body to wake him up. Charles groaned as a response. “Mathéo wants to talk to you. I have a feeling it might be important.”

“What time is it?” He asked, still not opening his eyes.

“Almost dinner time so you have to get up.”

Charles sighed and sat up in his spot. “Where’s my boy?”

Mathéo was in his room working on his art project. It was a show box diorama of his favorite memory, which was the day of his birthday when all of his family from both sides made it to his party. As he was putting a toy birthday cake in his box, he heard a knock on his door.

“It’s open!” He said, still concentrated on his project. In came Charles with a tired face, but he didn’t care. His son needed him and he was here to listen.

“It looks very nice. Is that Uncle Arthur with frosting on his face?” Charles pointed at a paper drawing of the whole family. Arthur had been drawn with blue marker ‘smeared’ on his face to resemble the frosting of the cake that Charles had thrown at his face the day of the party.

“Yeah, it was kind of hard to find the right shade of blue but I made it work.” Mathéo said, not looking up from his work.

Charles nodded and walked over to the boy’s bed and sat down. “Maman told me you wanted to talk.”

Mathéo finally looked up and slowly turned his chair to face Charles. “But you’re tired. We can talk later-”

“Théo, I’m not tired. I’m okay, now tell me, is someone bothering you in school? Are your grades bad? If it’s about grades then I’m not mad because my grades were not good. Arthur and I used to skip class because of karting so-”

“It’s not about grades. I’m doing well in school. Promise you won’t laugh at me.” Mathéo said quietly.

“Why would I laugh? I’m your papa.”

“Just promise me.”

Charles held out his pinky finger. “I promise I won’t laugh,” Mathéo nodded and was about to speak but Charles stopped him. “No, you have to do the pinky promise. This is serious.” Mathéo chuckled and laced his pinky finger with his father’s then let go.

“Okay, so I was sitting in my usual table during lunch and then this girl comes up and sits with me. Robin wasn’t with me because he’s sick so I thought she felt bad for me because I was sitting alone. But turns out she’s new to Monaco and to the school. We talked and I have decided that she is the coolest girl I have ever met and she doesn’t know I’m your son!” The boy explained. “And she laughed at my jokes, I think I’m in love.”

Charles’ lips turned into a smile. His son had a crush.

“Well that’s a big word for you. She seems nice. What’s her name?” Charles asked.

“Giselle but with two l’s. Even her name is pretty. But I don’t want to seem like a creep and ask her out. How did you ask maman to go on a date with you?”

“Your maman was not an easy person to ask out. The first time I asked her, she said no and I respected her decision. A month later, she was in Monaco and we got lunch with a couple of friends and I asked her again and she said yes. I wanted to take her to dinner but she said that was too boring for a first date so we signed up for a cooking class to make pasta but it was in Italy so we went to Italy.” Charles explained. He was never going to forget that day.

“Why Italy? Does Monaco not having pasta classes?”

“They do, but your mother hadn’t been to Italy so I took her. It’s became a tradition now. On our anniversary, we go to the same cooking class and make pasta. You would think my cooking skills would improve by now, but at least we have maman to help.”

“Maybe I can take Giselle to a cooking class in Italy.” Mathéo suggested.

“How about we start with watching a movie in the local theater?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #anon #inbox <3 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series teen edition

[manicpixiedckgirl]

okay, so i posted a timeline. sue me! i quit all other social media last year and needed that dopamine hit. just a lil nicotine patch for online attention. seasonal depression is a bitch okay. i posted it here and to ig, bc ig is to late millennials what facebook is boomers. and people have all said some very nice things, but when you're posting a 10 year timeline, you're usually hoping for someone from your past to see it and go "woah! you're so different now"!

and whaddya know, this time it worked. one of my exes from when i was a teenager saw it. not one of the ones who turned out to be a lesbian, one of the ones who turned out to be a trans man. He just wanted to say hi - that he was so happy to see that i looked happy, and that i looked incredible, especially compared to the scruffy twink they had dated. (okay those are my words not his)

he and I didn’t have a great relationship at first - no one had a great relationship with me before i realized i was a trans woman obviously, but this was pretty young. I was really repressed and weird back then, and still very much without any social graces, and we were only like 16. they caught the full broadside of my emo fuckboy energy and got out fast once they saw that - i don’t blame them. I was crying in their arms about how much i hated my new body hair, and how i wanted to be able to wear dresses, and the next day i’d be completely emotionally unavailable and denying all of it. not exactly boyfriend material, not entirely boyfriend. They were very traumatized too in their own way, just realizing they were trans too, and engaging in a lot of ‘i want to be a gay man’ antics, fucking their way through the pain. He was frankly way too cool and sexually liberated to be wasting his time with that version of me. And it was very obvious to everyone who knew what that was 12-15 years ago that i was a closeted trans girl. we had a friend group that eventually fell apart, and we parted for the first time.

Later, in our late teens/20, we would end up fucking - i had started to accept and announce that my gender was complicated, and i was starting to be kinda faggy and loud about it, and not everyone hated that, and they had just started T and were boy horny. We split a bottle of wine (or was it two? It was probably two) and started watching an ashley tisdale movie. Looking back on it, how it went must definitely have been his plan, but i’ve always been blind about this stuff and was that night. It was definitely bad sex, but it was also fun sex - the first time I enjoyed myself,  and the pressure of having to be a guy wasn’t so overwhelming i didnt effectively black out. he’s one of the first people i ever talked to about feeling complicated about gender, and i think by then he had figured me out, and was just letting me get the rest of the way on my own. I still couldn’t top for him, i never rly could top for anyone, even before estrogen. but we still had fun, with our hands and with our mouths. and then after that, we'd go to art shows and poetry readings and hang out again occasionally, like we talked about doing when we were literal kids, putting on rocky horror in our front rooms.

but life takes you away from people, and he got into film school, and i somehow graduated my chemistry program and moved to the US. he moved to Germany for a while, although i hear he's back home. i got married, got separated, there was a global pandemic. we hadn't talked in years, although i had snooped on him once or twice. He’s a director now - he’s made some impressive arthouse films, all horror and gender and kitchy campy cerebral themes. He’s got a big tv writing credit on the way in irish tv. Idk - it felt rly good to impress him, to say hi, to remember. it's really cool to see other trans people thriving and living life, always. anyone who cleaves reality to themselves and fashions themselves into someone they can love is someone who impresses me. but it's different when it's someone you've known for almost half your life - someone you were a fucked up kid with, not sure if either of you would make it to 18. and to be smiling at each other, looking at 30, and wondering what's next. i'm really proud of the both of us actually. and i needed that today.

#trans #essay #diary

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku being childhood friends

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked on titles are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read Tags. Check Ratings.

Art work not mine. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/524739794086470815/

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Summer Days by MajestyTime

Summary: Five of the summer memories Kacchan has of Deku plus the one summer memory that defines their future together.

(In which Kacchan can't stop himself from gravitating towards Izuku.)

✧ ✧ ✧

"Why did you call me?" Izuku asks. It feels like they're teetering on the precipice of something that could be greater than the sum of their parts. Kacchan breathes in slowly, then takes the dive.

"Because I wanted to."

"You...wanted to?" Izuku repeats, like he's tasting the words on Kacchan's tongue to understand him better.

"Yeah." Kacchan presses his cheek into his pillow, sinking into the softness. "I miss you."

One Shot | Post UA Graduation

Rated - Teen & Up

Kiss Me? by beans2000

Summary: Years after Katsuki left Izuku in the dust as a kid he's reminded of the gesture of affection that had his palms sweating and heart pounding when Izuku used to do it for him when they'd get scuffed up on the playground: kissing his band aids after patching him up.

Fast forward to the present and the dumb nerd is just going around offering up kisses to any old extra in their class except Katsuki and it's driving him insane. Despite him pushing these feelings within himself as deep as possible, it stings deeper than he could've ever imagined.

-

aka: izuku's love language is kisses

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

turn my bed into a sacred oasis by nikkiRA

Summary: Three times bakugou katsuki sneaks into midoriya izuku's bed.

— — —

"Go to sleep, stupid Deku."

{One Shot}

Rated - Teen & Up

jump then fall by nikkiRA / @aravenlikeawritingdesk

Summary: During a storm, Class 3-A end up playing a version of the newlywed game, except Deku and Katsuki get roped into playing, even though they're not dating.

They're really good at it.

“It’s cute that you know so much about each other,” Ashido says. Bakugou curls his lip; he locks eyes with Deku, and he feels his cheeks heat up at the happy smile he gives him.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

the union of king explosion murder and all might junior by menulis

Summary: “Now, you know what we gotta do?”

Izuku sniffled, bottom lip quivering. He shook his head from side to side, tousling green curls. He really didn’t have a clue what they had to do.

“What—what do we have to do, Kacchan?”

Kacchan rolled his eyes, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He returned his gaze to Izuku, and opened his mouth.

“We have to get married, duh.”

— — —

Izuku’s special-est person—Kacchan—demands to marry him one sunny afternoon in preschool. Izuku is more than happy to!

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

Oh, He’s Back by TheMoonIs

Summary: It was a normal day for Izuku Midoryia. Everyone went through their usual classes and nothing was out of order. His birthday was only a few days away. Everything was happy and he was content. Until of course, he got a call from an unknown number.

……..

He decided it’d be the perfect time to piss his friend off.

“Hello?”, he asked, smiling as Katsuki turned to glare at him.

“Izuku”, the voice said, dark and low. Izuku? Did he know this person?

His once smiling face turned into a confused frown and his eyebrows knit together. Katsuki watched his changing expression and made everyone shut up with only a fierce look.

“Um, I’m sorry. May I ask who’s speaking?”

“It’s me, my boy”.

Complete | 4 Chapters

Mature Content

First Crush by @silverynight

Summary: “You’ll like our home, Deku.”

Before Mitsuki can correct her son and tell him Izuku is not going to sleep over, little Katsuki turns around, looking very serious and determined before bowing in front of a confused, but amused Inko.

“Thanks. This wasn’t a shitty gift at all,” the blond kid says, pointing at Izuku. “This is maybe even a cool gift. I like him and I’ll keep him.”

One Shot | SFW

Coupon for a free kiss by ikratkaya

Summary: When Bakugou had his 6th birthday, his mother invited Izuku to his small party. This is when Izuku gifted him a bunch of coupons for free wishes.

{One Shot}

Rated - General Audiences

#bakudeku #fic recs #childhood friends #ao3 bkdk #ao3 fic recs #bakugo x midoriya #bakudeku fluff #bkdk #bkdk fic rec #ao3 fic rec #ao3 bakudeku recs #fanfic recommendation #bakugou x midoriya #archive of our own bakudeku #bakudeku recommendations #bakudeku fic rec #2023

[syokurususwife]

Pinkie Nails

syo kurusu x self!ship wc: 1049 tags: mentions of ed/slight angst/long distance not beta read!

sorry! i will not ever write a syo kurusu x reader. he is the only character i will do this for!!!! i have a very special attachment to syo kurusu. i will write x readers for other utapri boys but not syo. he loves me the most in the whole wide world!!!

syo finally had time for a ‘date’ while he was out on tour. making time in his temporary room somewhere cold in Europe. we caught up and i told him how work was going. he told me that once he gets back he wants to talk about me working less. but he understands my desire to be busy instead of wandering around such a big and lonely house. we decided to paint our nails to match. at first i was worried about people asking him about the strange pattern, but he assured me he was going to be on a radio show. unless the host brought it up, there was nothing to fear.

“have you been eating properly?”

his sudden question caused me to flinch as I stiffened up in the camera screen. my attention turned to the tips of my toes now curled in my fuzzy socks and i smiled weakly. “uhhhm… yes.” i lied, and i felt bad about it. i had my phone propped up on the night stand, tilted against the lamp as i painted my nails with syo on the other end doing the same. his suspicious frown made me antsy. “what did you eat for dinner?” he asked as i paused with my painting. “toast.” my response was too fast.

now he knew i was lying. “why havent you been eating?” his voice softened as i raised my eyes to watch him screw the cap back onto the small bottle of pastel pink polish. “im eating! i just havent been feeling very good.” not entirely a lie. i didnt want syo to worry about me. ever since we met, hes been the only person to encourage me to eat during the day. even going as far as to praise me when i did, as if i completed a herculean task. “i dont like eating alone too so… since youve been gone i dont really have anyone to eat with.” i laughed tiredly as i went back to painting my nails, leaving my pinkie nails pastel pink, while the rest were black. syo had done the opposite so we would match. 

“ill be back the moment our tour ends. im sorry i couldnt bring you on the road with me.” he apologized before blowing on his nails to assist them in drying quickly. “its fine. it wouldnt be a good idea for me to come along anyway, idols arent supposed to be married.” i teased and pulled my knees closer to my chest. “then what are we?” syos question made me look up in thought. “well, if any rabid teen girls ask, im your stylist! or… im a girl with an obsession whos stalking you!” i suggested, but syo didnt seem too amused with my ideas. his electric blue eyes bore into me through the screen of the phone.

“i would rather say youre my wife.”

i could feel my face burning all the way up to my ears. “maybe when you officially decide to retire.” i muttered as i started to blow on my nails as well. “when i retire, i want to tell the world that were married.” syo stated as i looked at the phone, feeling my face start to sting from the heat. “and that weve been married for a long time.” i was always against the idea. i saw it as a safety issue, and so did most of the staff in charge of STARISH. an idol is in love with his fans, he should be married to his work. not some girl no one has ever heard of. 

“haha! you havent blushed like that in a long time!” syo snickered as i leaned to hide my face from the screen, laughing to myself as i imagined being in the public eye, hanging off of syos arm. i was scared, but it was also exciting. 

as our nails dried and exhaustion set in, he watched me preform my nightly routine of stuffing my hair into my bonnet and cleaning my glasses. “you have to work tomorrow? i want to look at something less physical for you-”

“i like doing physical stuff.”

“honey, thats what a gym is for… well… actually… no, nevermind.” 

he trailed off and i started to pout. “what? tell me.” i asked before starting to smile. “do i look sexy in my bonnet?” i asked jokingly before starting to pose for the camera with a smile. “yes, as always. but thats not what i was going to say.” his laugh was weak and my smile began to evaporate as i made my way to our shared bed that would be hosting only one person tonight. “you just… look smaller than when i saw you last.” syo explained with a frown as i crawled under the weighted blanket and pulled his pillow closer to my side. 

it still carried his scent of apples and undertones of flora.

“Its just the camera. i look the same.” it might be a lie, ive been working on loosing weight but i didnt think it was noticeable. “... did you really eat dinner?” the sound of hurt in his voice made me feel even guiltier now. “no… but i promise i did eat today. i just dont feel good.” my stomach started to churn. “im sorry…” i apologized, sniffling and quickly wiping away my tears. “im not upset with you. i didnt mean to make you cry…” he trailed off as i turned off the lights and shut off the camera. “im crying because i lied… thats all…” it was just a hard topic. and when he caught me i always felt terrible. “lets talk about something else before bed, like what we want to do when i see you again.”

i smiled and nodded beside the phone as i took my glasses off and dropped them on the nightstand. “can you sleep with me tonight?” i requested meekly as i laid the phone on his pillow, inching closer and closer while wishing he was there beside me. “of course i can.”

we spoke quietly about our date ideas when we finally met again, all while i admired my pastel pinkie nail in the darkness of our bedroom. and i had a feeling syo was looking at the black nail he painted.

#yumeship #yumejoshi #syo kurusu x me #syo kurusu x selfship #syo kurusu #kurusu syo #shou kurusu #kurusu shou #utapri

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of labor/childbirth (which to me is a good thing, but labor is the painful part of it), a teen dad abandoning his girlfriend and their unborn baby for another girl but saying (years later) that they were important to him, him lying to the people working the case, the girlfriend wanting to tell the boy's parents about the baby, but not getting to do it, mentions of murder and the boy telling his former girlfriend's mother that she wants to keep the baby, with the mother getting mad and trying to change her mind.

•Yes, I know that even as a teenager, Derek probably wouldn't have done something like what I'll say in this chapter, but that's what I needed him to do for the sake of the story.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @rynwritesreid, @reidmeister, @justalesbianwithsomegayshit, @thatonewritersstuff, @marril96, @c-m-stuff, @criminal-addict.

Between their two hearts

Chapter 14: What could have been

After that extremely helpful meeting with Emily, again, if it had just been up to them, Scarlett and Jacqueline would have already gone to talk to Derek Morgan the next day, but that evening, thirty-eight weeks into her pregnancy, Scarlett went into labor.

Her husband immediately took her to the hospital and ten hours later, at 8 am, on September 4, 2005, their daughter Layla came into the world.

She was a beautiful and perfectly healthy baby, and both her parents' families and their friends were delighted with her arrival.

To help their daughters and give them a little more time at home with their children, Spencer and Aaron decided to be the ones to go, the day after little Layla was born, to speak to Derek about what Jacqueline and Scarlett had found out from Emily.

When they arrived at the man's house, after he had greeted them and they had made some small talk, Spencer got to the point.

"In order not to have to marry Jennifer and give up being just a kid for a few more years, you didn't tell your parents that you were going to be a father. My daughter Jacqueline spoke to Emily Prentiss, a friend of Jennifer's whom she had met at Saint Bridget's, so by now I know this too" he said, and by the look on Derek's face, both he and Aaron knew he realized he'd been caught in his mistake.

"It's not like that, you are wrong!" the man exclaimed, but Aaron and Spencer knew that was a lie.

"She wanted to tell them, Scarlett and Jacqueline told us what Emily said. So, you stopped her from doing it" Aaron replied, to make Derek understand that there was no point in trying to lie, because they knew what had happened.

"I didn't kill Jennifer!" Derek retorted, but it quickly became clear to him that the two men sitting in front of him didn't believe him.

"Very original!" Aaron exclaimed sarcastically.

"I could have never killed her and our baby!" the man then added "They were very important to me!".

"Really?" Spencer replied "Then why did you say that you had never seen Jennifer again after she had been taken out of school? Where were you the night she was killed?".

"With Penelope Garcia" Derek told him.

"The girl who replaced Jennifer in your life, we already know about her" Aaron sighed.

"Yes, the woman who has been my wife for thirty-three years now. We were at the cinema in the evening of July 24, 1968" the younger man explained.

"You didn't act like a real man those days" Spencer pointed out, as if Derek wasn't already aware of that.

"I know" his acquaintance admitted, looking down at his hands with a sigh "I abandoned Jennifer and our daughter. If I had behaved properly, maybe she would be alive and the three of us would be a family now".

"Then did Jennifer manage to tell your parents about the baby?" Aaron asked him, also because he didn't feel like listening to that man's regrets and was much more interested in knowing about poor Jennifer's fate.

As a response, Derek just shook his head.

"And was it you who stopped her?" Spencer questioned.

"In a way, yes. I went to see her mother and told her that Jennifer wanted to keep our child. Mrs. Jareau got really mad. She rushed to Saint Bridget's to talk her out of it" Derek explained.

And when, about a quarter of an hour later, they left the Morgan family's house, Aaron and Spencer felt like they knew who the only person who could have actually helped their daughters solve that case was: Sandy Jareau.

[storiesbyjes2g]

Three o'clock rolled around, and I left everyone to greet my kids and welcome them home. I wanted to give them a personal tour of the house and let them choose their bedrooms. But I couldn't do that effectively with a house full of strangers, so I told them to hang out in my room until the neighbors left. Luca said they invited some friends over, so they waited outside for their arrival.

Gemma came by to see me as well, and I was so glad to see her. I was usually open to making new friends, but I didn't vibe with the neighbors and caught up with my girls instead. Nylah was also married but didn't have children. Apparently, there was one other household I hadn't met yet. Hopefully, they'd be drama free, unlike the divorcee and other freaks.

I got impatient with my neighbors and snuck upstairs to check on the kids. Although I trusted Luca and Alessia completely, teenagers could get a little bold when left unsupervised with other teens. I didn't want to interrupt their fun, so I tiptoed quietly and peeked my head in as covertly as I could. A movie was on, and Alessia conversed with a blonde-haired boy. Luca... Well, honestly, it looked like he was flirting with his guest! Wait a minute... Googly eyes? Blonde hair?? They invited their crushes?! I didn't know how to feel. I was kind of excited for them to have quality time outside of school because teen love is just so cute. But I also felt like I should have known about this. Should I establish ground rules or something about inviting girlfriends/boyfriends over? Wait until something happens to bring it up? I didn't want to be a helicopter parent like Mommy. They should have enough rope to get a little fun in, but not enough to go crazy. I didn't have time to consider any of that while I was supposed to be undetected, so I went back downstairs and waited for the neighbors to leave. I said I trusted them, so that's that.

A few moments later, Luca came downstairs with a long face! I wanted to hold him but wasn't sure how he'd feel about that. These kids changed faster than vampires in bat form. If he was in that eww, Mom, you're embarrassing me phase, I didn't want to risk it.

But it pained me to see him like that! My son was usually so cool and confident. Nothing ruffled his feathers. Well...nothing except his parents splitting up. Whatever went on with him, my heart ached, for I knew it had to be quite serious to push him to that level. He stood there for a few moments, lip quivering and all. Finally, he spoke.

"How do you make friends with someone who doesn't want to be friends with you?"

My poor boy! He must have gotten his heart broken. I guess that girl really was interested in Alessia. Ugh! I hate my baby boy had to go through that so young. But, maybe it was better to get that over with now while he was still resilient.

To save further embarrassment, I didn't ask why he looked so sad. I thought of a suggestion quickly and hoped it was a decent response.

"Maybe... Make a big friendly gesture. You know...something really nice to make them remember you."

He nodded and stood there, as if unsure of what to do next. Oh, duh! Our house was full of strangers, and he didn't know where his room was. I politely asked everyone to leave. Not only had they outstayed their welcome, but also my babies needed me.

I asked my children to help with dinner, and they did more than stand around that time. They may have actually learned something. Dinner was a bit silent, but I didn't press them. Teenagers needed space to figure out their feelings.

After dinner, Alessia helped me with the dishes. Unprompted! I'm glad I apologized to her the other day. Maybe she didn't think I was a raging lunatic.

She too had a less than happy expression, but I didn't want to pry for the same reason, so I asked around what I wanted to know.

"So... How is your friend?"

"Boys are dumb."

Okay then! I suppose we'll bury that topic for now.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #sims story #adolting #adolting gen 2 #Emerald Pope #Luca Winston Murillo #Alessia Amina Murillo #remember Emmy's cute dance teacher in the jungle? #Alessia's friend is his son and he looks just like him

[astrabear]

My father was born in 1942. When he was a teenager my grandparents sent him to a psychiatrist who convinced/reassured him (and them) that of course he was not a homosexual. He wouldn't break through that denial until he was 50. In the meantime, he got married, completed medical school (at his father's insistence), and had kids (whom he raised in pretty much the complete opposite way from how he was raised.) He loved Julia Child and fancy French cooking. He liked to garden, especially roses; for a time he competed in rose shows. When I was nine he dug a small pond in the backyard and filled it with water lillies and koi. He kept tropical fish. As a teen, his primary ambition was writing operas with his best friend, and he continued to dabble in composing. At my bat mitzvah, the cantor incorporated one of his pieces into the service. He took me to operas and ballets and introduced me to Gilbert & Sullivan. (He also went with me to laser light shows at the planetarium. He fell asleep during the Nine Inch Nails show. How, I have no idea.) We went on road trips in the summer and alternated choosing the music; he liked the Pet Shop Boys and the Sisters of Mercy enough to go buy their albums for himself. He hated Robert Smith's voice but put up with listening to the Cure anyway. Later on, he got very into poetry; some of the older members of the local poetry scene still remember him fondly almost 20 years later.

He loved telling stories about when my brother and I were little, especially stories that illustrated the constancy of our personality traits. There was one that wasn't even a story, because he didn't remember any of the details - when I was very young, like baby/toddler young, I did something (he could never tell me what) that prompted him to say to my mother that it was a good thing they were bigger than I was, because I was clearly smarter than they were. He was so obviously delighted by that memory. He could be obnoxious and pompous and condescending, but there is no question that he respected me as well as loving and liking me.

The last year of his life was medically complicated and full of incident. I worked really hard to follow the "comfort in, dump out" rule of dealing with tough situations, which resulted in my frequently being the only family member he was comfortable talking to about his health. He said I was his rock.

For our last birthday together, we went to the Natural Science Museum and saw the Pompeii exhibit (and then the dinosaurs, because you always have to visit the dinosaurs.) We had the tasting menu at a French restaurant he'd been wanting to go to for ages. A few days later we were making plans for my next visit - go back to the planetarium for the Pink Floyd laser light show, go back to the restaurant for more lobster bisque. Two days after that was Father's Day, and my brother and sister-in-law took him out to dinner. He fell getting back into the car. The next day he didn't get out of bed at all, and the day after that, June 22 2021, he died - at home, with his partner and a hospice nurse with him.

"He was a man, take him for all in all. I shall not look upon his like again."

#long post #personal #I could have said so much more #Hug a loved one today #do creative stuff you love #and eat something delicious

[bisluthq]

Teen me wasn’t interested in dating and I wasn’t into him (even now, from what I remember he wasn’t attractive). So no, I will not be contacting that man. I actually figured out the crush thing a few years ago, still years after it happened though, but I remembered yesterday because I saw a video that said something about how if people didn’t have crushes on you in school you were funny now. And I was like “wait, people didn’t have crushes on me and I’m not funny” but then I remembered that situation. I also have a story from when I was like 8.

Everyone in my class started saying this one guy was into me. During recess people would follow me around and ask for us to kiss. My best friend and I would try to hide. I don’t know how long this went on but this guy got me a birthday gift. I was hanging out with some of the girls from our class during recess and he threw the gift towards me while his friends dragged him away? It was a pink wallet and some matching hair ties. After a while, I was waiting outside of our class with another friend and this guy told my friend to tell me that he was breaking up with me?? And I was like “tell him we weren’t dating”?? And then I heard people saying he had broken up with me. I don’t understand how they thought me running away from him meant we were dating.

When I was like 9 a girl from my class that I was friends with but not really close or anything (and who was only in that school for a couple of years) got me a birthday gift too. It was a purse. I don’t know how she knew it was my birthday or why her parents let her buy something for me? But yeah that happened. I don’t remember anyone getting gifts for anyone else ever, so I don’t know why I got 2 gifts.

Last but not least, when I was like 6, this kid from my class that sat next to me gifted me a rose while we were outside of the school waiting for it to open. But then this girl came up to him and said “I gave you that rose to give it to our teacher” and took it from me…

You know, childhood is weird. And we all probably should get less grief for how we handle it. As I said, in primary school I used to get fucktons of stuff every Valentine’s Day and on my birthday and I was like “I don’t even like you people as people lol what is wrong with you” but like I’m dwelling on it more and maybe I was the weird one lol and they were being normal. This one boy moved his whole birthday party because it clashed with mine and he wanted to rather go to mine and his mum told my mum he’s obsessed with me and I was like “ok what must I do with this information” 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ I just always wanted people to not suck lol. And I was willing to fight with girls and boys who were very nice to me because I was like “you’re sucking now and I don’t like it” - weird as shit for them to give you that stuff.

oh - I will also say I went to Disney world as a kid and I brought back Minnie Mouse pens for my friends and then this one girl got all tweaked that I gave two pens out and I had some other stuff that I gave to boys but Eileen - who was my best friend at the time - broke the little Minnie Mouse off her pen and gave it back to me and was like “enjoy Alexa” (who also got a pen) and I was like “Eileen go eat shit you got a pen” but yeah people are weird.

further point - Alexa was my first crush ever and I can’t find her on social media and I’d like to because that’d truly be a love story for the ages idk.

Alexa if you’re out there and also queer let’s just get married lol.

[docnomore]

Thinking about the differences Mrs. Doc and I had to work through over the years. Our childhood years were dramatically different. Her father was the VP of the wealthiest bank in the US. That translates to, a father never present. Up before dawn, gym bag, brief case and suit in hand. Home by 5, locked away in the study, drinking martinis and doing paperwork. Unavailable until 8 PM when he was sufficiently numb and time for bed. He did everything he’d been taught: he was a great provider. Mother, went to school, got her M-R-S degree, did finishing school and all of that. She graduated to become the consummate, bored to tears housewife. Always dressed in pearls, always at the ready with starched shirts, impeccably clean house and the meal at the last minute when he’d call to inform he was bringing a client home. Mrs. Doc did the private school, the riding club and country club with the parents. She and her friends hung out at the pool. Mrs. Doc from an early age would slip into her father’s study and eat the very “wet” olives from the martini. By 9-10, she was an alcoholic. Mother decided she wanted more. Took up stage acting. That was not befitting a banker’s wife. They soon divorced. She met and married a Harvard man. A socialist, Kennedy man. Given her options, Mrs. Doc chose to stay with mom over dad. That essentially cost her her inheritance from her father. Mom left an inheritance of $2 million but step dad remarried and divided that up between the new wife and her brood. Mrs.Doc’s step brother being the executor saw what dad had done and made attempts to make things right. She received nearly. $70,000. Staying with mom also meant moving as a late teen to Colorado with the whole John Denver movement. She married and her alcoholism caught up to her. She married a second time to a guy who was a total manipulator. He was a long haul truck driver. Together, they had a daughter. Not exactly sure, but there’s a strong possibility that he molested her. By this time, Mrs. Doc was a recovering alcoholic but still had her vices - namely cigarettes and work. She was managing a corporate chain restaurant and was averaging 12+ hours a day. Closing one day and opening the next. Her daughter in tow, the child had no idea what stability was. That marriage failed and then came me.

Six months older than Mrs. Doc, she came from one side of the state, I came from the other. Dad was illiterate and always searching for work. He had many jobs. A friend from school got him a job as a pit crewman on an Indianapolis 500 race team. They won in 1949, 1951 and again in 1952. He also worked a printing press, driving a fire truck and as a TV repairman. Things were always tight but they managed to make it work. Mom had a mental illness and could never tell the truth. We grew up believing we were direct descendants of frontiersman Daniel Boone. Dad continued to work Indy for several decades and as soon as we boys were “old enough”, would take us to the track. People with a little money, do crazy stupid stuff. And at Indy, the infield gets raunchy and wild. Dad would take us around the track and taught us both to drive race cars there. I’d been driving since the age of 12 on the neighbor’s farm. They had a Volkswagon Beetle with no doors. When it was time to bring the cows in, we’d drive them in using that car. In ‘75, things got really hard. A fire retardant known as PBB was mixed in with the cattle feed and everyone’s herds had to be Slaughtered. Using a bull dozer, someone from the government would order a trench dug. The cattle were herded in and we sitting up on the sides would open fire. We were paid 22 cents a bullet. Dad was working a factory job and that factory closed. More government policy gone bad. Literally, we were left to starve. Mom had a job at a doctor’s office. It wasn’t enough to keep the creditors at bay, they lost everything but the house. As kids, we hung out in the back pastures, having bonfires and a keg of beer until the cops showed up. It would always turn into a free for all of underage drinkers wildly driving through corn fields trying to lose the cops. More of dad’s driving lessons put to use. Come the next morning, the chief of police would show up at the coffee shop, lay an ear of corn in front of dad and tell him hame had to go square up with the farmer whose field we tore up the night before. I was a lousy student, in part because dad never allowed homework to be done at home. “School is for school work. Home is for home.” He would say. Report cards would go home and mom and dad would have their arguments. Mom would slap us around a bit and life went on. Like my sister and brother before me, I graduated to essentially nothing. I worked as a dishwasher, a banquet porter, room service and as a cook. Factory work had left the state and farmers had lost their farms. I floundered for a few years then ended up in the military. I’d never been “college material”. In the military, everything is premised on rank and rank is premised on the amount of education one has. Having nothing more than a high school diploma and ranked at the bottom of the class, I was literally little more than cannon fodder. I began as a deck seaman on an ammunition supply ship sailing the Pacific. I got orders to attend Hospital Corpsman school while docked in the Philippines. I still wasn’t much for education, but sitting in a classroom for 13 weeks sure beat working Deck. I and another guy teamed up with a merchant mariner expat living in Manilla. He had a van, and we chipped in for gas and we drove across Luzon to get from Subic Bay to Clark Air Force Base. We hopped a C-141 to Travis AFB. Somewhere over the Pacific, that plane blew an engine and we found ourselves on Guam. We talked our way into first class tickets aboard a PanAm 747 to San Francisco. I attended HM school in San Diego, where my immaturity nearly go the better of me. I’d skip out of school around noon, change into a swim suit, grab a cooler full of beer and a surfboard and would spend the day and night surfing and getting drunk. Hung over, I graduated and they sent me to Camp Pendleton where I learned how to work with the Marine Corps. After that, Chicago, where I met a girl and married her. We hardly knew one another. Soon after, she was pregnant and she lied to get out of the Navy. That marriage failed.

[thetalesofaneverydaymillennial]

Honestly I don't even know where to start

I suppose we could begin with my earliest memory.

I am not sure that I wish to only discuss my woes, as it may even be triggering for me. Maybe these small portions will allow more of background development, but I digress.

My first memory was of going to a Sam's Club. I was in a cart riding with my sister and asking mom and dad for popcorn as we passed by this stand that had a popcorn machine and also sold hot dogs.

The memory after was crawling in and out of a tent in the living room of my parents trailer. It was TINY, honestly I just remember that I was sleeping in this tiny TP like pink tent and my sister was in the closet of their room. I was in a little sleeping dress and I went to stack my dolls by the front door in case the house burned down I wanted to make sure that I could take my toys with me.

The next memory that I have was that of our home/ apartment in NC. If I am honest I truly only have clips of memory, I specifically remember this place had so many roaches that would crawl all over our plates as they dried, I remember the neighbor that we had was really aggressive with my parents and I truly wanted monkey bars in my sister's room. I would imagine she had them with vines that covered them.

My next memory is only a short one of riding with my favorite school teacher. Her name will be Miss Applesauce. She babysat me and rode in a jeep without windows and lots of wind. I remember seeing her husband with dark short hair and a cheesy grin. They seemed to love one another. Although she was my favorite, I was always in toruble. I remember being disciplined often for speaking.

**Trigger warning for SA of a minor**

Then I was switched to a new teacher. She liked daffodils, but man was she mean. She truly yelled at me so often. She took me to the principles office and they gave my mother, who was a teacher there, a paddle and instructed either she hit me or they would. She did. I remember meeting Mike, not his true name but it doesn't matter. He would force me to sit on his hand, get me in trouble, and kept touching my body. When I mentioned it to the teacher, she never believed me, I was the only one to be punished. It continued to escalate until finally one day he brought his friend to a playset I was on and this big red headed boy forced me under this playset and Mike came to the other side to trap me. He took his hands and forced my mouth open, he put his tongue into my mouth and said if I didn't do the same with mine his friend would hit me over and over. His friend got closer and so I did it. Suddenly my best friend at the time appears on this plastic probably Little Tikes playset and catches the act. She RUNS to the teacher to tell, the bigger boy hits me in the nose hard and tells me not to tell. The memory following blacks out, I remember my parents talking about it at the table, it got quiet. My dad was angry. They didn't believe me, but suddenly they decided to homeschool my sister and I afterwards until middle school. It was short notice the loss of my friend was devastating and I would search for her until my teens. I cried about her for years. She used to tell me if I didn't marry this blonde friend of ours we couldn't be friends. Its funny now because he and I are friends on Facebook to this day. I did find Mike once. That was genuinely upsetting.

I wouldn't realize that was my first assault until I was 27 years old and the memory finally returned. I was 5. The age of my daughter at the time of my realization. My family hid this from me and denied it happened after that. Remember that because it becomes a pattern. The invalidating, disbelief, denial, and blame onto me. Yummy.

Side note, this was a Christian school, also a repeating pattern. I do want to warn you, I have severe amounts of religious trauma and it will carry through my posts. Understand it is not anger focused at God or whom they worship, but my family and those in the church.

Also unfortunately my in-laws wish to enroll my oldest in a Christian school as well which I definitely declined. As expected, it has been refused to drop and continues to be prompted to this day.

I think that's enough dumping for the day as I am flushed and a bit flustered. These memories are hard but sincerely made worse by how invalidated I was made my whole life. Honestly, my whole life I have been the scapegoat, the black sheep, the source of all things wrong in my family. No matter sacrificing my wellbeing, mental health, and my childhood, it truly was never enough and carries through to this day. If I am honest, it really bothers my that my siblings need therapy for watching my parents handle me as a child. I try to not blame myself. Ultimately I wanted to protect them the most.

But, although I have experienced many traumas in my life, I really do hope this helps someone in the abyss. Someone else like me on their healing journey where it feels so alone. Your feelings are valid, your traumas and memories are valid, and if you think no one else loves you I will. Always. My mantra now is "You are safe and you are loved it isn't happening anymore". Give yourself time and grace to heal. I have been going a year solid and I know I am not done, but if I made it this far I will be damned if I give up now. I may fall and I may have to restart or change perspective but I will fight for me.

Always.

Drink lots of water, it helps deepen the healing. Love your little millennial mess.

[wolfrunner25]

Growing up gay in small town USA.

Growing up in a small town in Northeast Kentucky was interesting at times, I suppose. Not very open minded I would say. I mean everyone was pretty much the same. Most adults married, raised kids, worked, played and hardly ever left the state. Some might get lucky to go on vacation some place, but I know some didn't. When it came to the kids pretty much everyone went to school, to church, played with friends, rode bikes, just normal kid stuff. Not anything out of the ordinary.

I mean I knew not one person who might be gay, bi, or anything else growing up. I knew I felt different from an early age. I had no clue what that difference was. I just knew deep down that I wasn't like my friends. I was not feminine in any way. I hated dresses, the color pink, playing with dolls, and etc. I would much rather be playing with hot wheels, GI Joes, playing a sport, just anything that was not being a “girl”. I hung out with the boys. I was called a tomboy by most and told one day you'll grow out of that. (Breaking News: I never did, LOL)

Don't get me wrong, at one point I did try and fit in with the straight crowd. I tried to like dresses and stuff that like but it always felt wrong. Like I was just hiding in sheep's clothing. I still hated it. It just was not me. So I quit trying and decided I would just dress however I wanted to and fuck everyone else if they didn't like it.

I still had no clue at this point that I was a lesbian. That came in college when I figured that out. I was in denial for so long. You see I grew up in a church where homosexuality is a sin. So I couldn't be that, could I? I mean I was baptized as a teen and never regretted that. So I couldn't ever be something that would condemn me to hell, right?

So to say I have struggled with my sexuality most of my life would be an understatement. I have wished to be “Straight”, I have prayed to be ”Straight”. But I got news for you all, I have never been “straight” and because of this, I have hated myself for a very long time. I didn't want to be different, I really did want to be like everyone else, like all the straight people I knew. I just wanted to be 'normal'.

I don't like being the weirdo, the lesbian, the freak and all the other names or labels I placed on myself. I wanted to feel like I fit in. I didn't want to go to hell. But again, I never had a desire to have and raise kids. To get married to a man, (Sorry but yuck!) To live that 'normal' life. But at the same time I hated myself for not wanting that.

I tried for so long to to act like none of this bothered me. I would be flippant and say if they don't like me, or they are judging me then fuck it and them. I don't need them. But deep down it hurt to think that someone might not like me because of one thing, that I am gay. I know I shouldn't care, especially if I don't know them and they don't know me but deep down I do/did. Every single one of us wants to be accepted and loved for who we are. It doesn't matter who we are. We all want to be loved, we want friends, we want to be accepted. We want to find our happy.

The older I get the more I realize that I don't care as much as I did when I was younger. If I don't know you and you are automatically going to hate me because of one part of my existence well, there is the door, see your way out because I don't care. If we were friends at one point but you don't like the fact that I'm gay, well again, there is the door, see your way out and keep your judgmental thoughts to yourself. If we were close friends once and you don't like me because of who I am, then I will mourn our past friendship but again, there's the door, I think you know what to do.

Now, to the IDIOTS who think that all LGBTQ+ want to turn your kids gay or trans or whatever.... I've got a big NEWS FLASH! We don't want to turn them gay or whatever. We want them to live to be the people they are meant to be. It doesn't matter that they are gay or straight or whatever. We want them to live. If they are LGBTQ+, they need to know they are not alone. Growing up where I did I thought I was the only one who felt the way I did. Again, I called myself a freak, a weirdo and any other derogatory name you can probably imagine. Let's face it, I was “Groomed” to be straight, but I never was. I am me, with all the good and bad that I have. So please stop acting like we want the whole world to be gay. I'd say most of us just want to live our lives, just like you do.

I could go on and on but I won't. My main purpose here was to give you my experience. I wasn't supposed to be a lesbian but I am. I have come to terms with it and I have decided that God doesn't make mistakes and I am not a mistake. Nor will anyone make me feel like that any longer. I will just continue to try and be a good person to others because I still believe in the golden rule. “Treat others the way you want to be treated.”

EDIT: I just wrote this because I didn't make Pride this year because I think I am getting sick and didn't want to expose others. But I still wanted to contribute in some small way to Pride. I hope all of my LBGTQ+ community have had a wonderful Pride.

#lgbt pride #Pride #happy pride 🌈 #LGBTQ+ #lgbtq community

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear  :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention. 

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. 

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger. 

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator. 

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me. 

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sugar daddy au #au #sugar daddy!steve Rogers #sugar sugar #marvel #mcu #captain america

[bakugohoex]

Porco Requests? I've got plenty. This man is running through my mind 24/7 now. What about Porco with a super shy s/o? This man would treat his S/o right. Uncomfortable? Just tell me why. Too nervous? I'll tell everyone to shut up and listen to you. UGH I LOVE THIS MAN.

“i’ll make them listen, don’t worry baby”

pairing: porco galliard x gender neutral reader

cw: modern au, langage, fluff

word count: 1300+

a/n: brooo porco is so baby i love him so much, i’m a simp 

summary: in which you the shy reader are in a relationship with porco

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

THIS MAN WOULD BE THE SWEETEST BOYFRIEND EVER.

He’d definitely be the one who came up to you asking for your number, you’d probably be walking outside of uni or something and he saw you and he needed your number.

Asks for it with the worst pick up line ever, something along the lines of I seem to have forgotten my phone number, can I have yours? You were an entire mess refusing to meet his eye and even forgetting that numbers have 9 digits and not 8.

You don’t even give him your name; you just say your number and leave in a hurry. 

His bad pick-up line clearly did wonders to you. 

He’d definitely text you straight after with his name and start asking questions, can’t lie he’d carry the conversation until you became comfortable with him.

He would definitely ask you to dinner or the movies on the weekend, you aired him for 20 minutes in shock. 

No words, he’d see the three dots in the bubble multiple times and then it’d disappear.

Half an hour later, a simple yes comes through. You’d never told him how you texted and called all your friends for advice on the mysterious man. 

You make your friends follow you both on your date, they actually take notes on how he opens the restaurant door for you, pulls the chair out, pays for the meal, he's such a gentleman and he does the talking after he realises, you’re shy around him.

He would walk you home, you’d both do that thing where your hands keep brushing against each other before he finally just grabs your fingers.

You’d give him a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night and this man would blush so hard. His ears would prick pink and a redness with speckle across his face. He hides it so quickly and before you can go inside, he’d ask for another date in the quietest voice possible. 

You accept, who fucking wouldn’t.

A couple months into your relationship, the facetimes and texts were equally split between you two. 

You’d scream down the phone to tell him about the new anime merch that had just arrived or complain about your day. You do not talk half an hour to send a message to him anymore.

Your friends think you two will marry, it’s certain, they have it all planned. 

Even with your shyness around new people you got along with his friends having met them a couple times. Pieck was always your favourite person to see at parties and gatherings but you were often talked over a lot when the louder confident ones at the parties spoke. 

Porco would notice this in an instant and always try and get your opinion out knowing that you liked the topic and had insight on it.

This man will literally tell everybody to shut the fuck up (politely to not make you embarrassed), just so they can hear you speak.

He also does it just to listen to you ramble on about your favourite topics.

*heart eyes*.

Or if someone makes you uncomfortable by getting too close or trying to get with you, this man will be at your side, lacing his fingers with yours and taking you to people you’re more comfortable with.

All in all this man is a simp and would bring but the best in you. 

“Y/n, Porco, you guys finally made it.” Pieck laughed a drink in her hand as she slouched against the sofa, the sound of music blaring and lights flashing sent you to grab onto your boyfriend's arm. 

He could already sense your unease at your surroundings, your grip tightening as his arm wrapped around you. “I’ll stay by your side the entire night.” 

You smile nodding at the boy, his blonde hair pulled back as usual, he gave a soft smile back before kissing your forehead. You had expected a night filled with drinking and being around friends, but you seemed to have been taken by Bertholdt and Reiner with Porco following along to the living room. 

They sat down as you situated yourself next to Porco, his hand in your hair as you leant against his body, the conversation had been boring, talking about some game on the PS4 that you had heard Porco shouting at a couple weeks ago. 

“I won that match.” Porco took a swig of the drink, your own drink on the table as you stared at it bored out of your mind. 

Reiner raised an eyebrow leaning his arms around the sofa, “fuck that you know I won it all together, one-win doesn’t make you a winner.”

Porco scowled at the boy before the conversation turned to something you enjoyed a lot more, “this guy really said Ichigo would beat Naruto.” Your ears perked at the conversation; it was between people you hadn't met but Annie had noticed how your eyes widened knowing you’d have the best input. 

She smiled starting to converse with the boys, “what the fuck really?”

You had always loved Bleach and Naruto, your favourite being Bleach and having talked to death about it to Porco and now with Annie including you, you had started to break off from your shyness, “Y/n’s up to date on both manga’s actually.” Annie was often cold with people but you two had become friends with ease having the same interests and her coldness and your shyness became an unlikely duo. 

“Let me guess another Ichigo simp.” One of the guys said and you gave a wary look, Ichigo was hot. You knew that and you knew that being a girl involved in a manga that had been directed towards teen boys made you become quiet. “She probably read the manga for the guys.”

“Not really.” You muttered, “I read it because it was actually interesting especially when Ichigo fights Ulquiorra”.

Your entire statement had been ignored and Annie had tried to include you, but you continued to be dismissed as just another girl simping for the characters. Of course you were a simple but to exclude you too one category was disheartening. You moved closer to Porco, he had watched the scene, how you had been ignored and now with your head leaning against his chest once again. 

“I’ll make them listen, don’t worry baby.” His voice was a soft whisper, leaving a soft kiss against your forehead before starting to converse with the guys. “You guys are talking about who would win?”

“Yeah, some guy saw Ichigo and thought he’d win against Naruto.” Porco started nodding, acting like he knew who these characters were, of course he had some idea of who they were, but he hadn't watched either as he got bored of how long it was.

“Oh, my girlfriends read and watched both, she’s better suited to this.” He pointed to you as you smiled at him, he was never going to tell them to our right shut up as it’d be a dick move, but it allowed for you to talk.

You gave a soft smile before you joined the conversation properly, the guys seemed intrigued by your opinion. Explaining both sides and why other anime fans would believe it to occur, as you sat upright rambling and talking. Porco watched with an intense look, he didn't need to speak, just watch and admire. He knew how you’d talk and talk and talk about anything you were interested in, but he saw how even with your initial shyness and dismissiveness they listened. Adding their own input, his hand went to reach your fingers, you felt it lacing your fingers.

He could listen to you talk forever, listen to every single word you ever said. Because he loved you and in those moments. Just staring at your beauty, the way your fingers gripped his own, the soft necklace he had bought your across your neck. He knew you’d be the one he’d spend the rest of his life with.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

#porco galliard #porco galliard x reader #porco x reader #galliard x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #attack on titan porco #attack on titan porco galliard #aot porco #aot porco galliard #attack on titan porco x reader #aot porco x reader #bakugohoex #porco galliard headcanons #porco galliard oneshots #porco galliard fluff

[knifefather]

Looking Up at Us [Submission]

'Looking Up at Us

|*| DISCLAIMERS:  Hello! It me! This is my first fic ever. Uhhh, Giorno’s a giant dick and Narancia’s an angel (literally and figuratively :] ) So yandere-ish themes, manipulation, and other mean things. This is a three-year span after the events of VA. |*|'

I APPLAUD YOU ON YOUR FIRST FIC ANON!!! This one really hit me right in the feels :'') Honestly you wrote Giorno so well because I literally wanted to strangle him!! He reminds me so much of Dio here and I fucking love it. I can't believe he stole their song ;a; OP outlined the yandere and manipulation content warnings, but there is also some major character death! Please be warned!

  “Hey, when we get married let’s use that Aerosmith song.”

Narancia laughed as the smaller of the two let out an embarrassed squeal and tried burying her head deeper into his neck. They laid together on his bed in his rather untidy room talking about anything and everything that crossed their minds. But he was always so brash, and making her red was a favorite pastime of his. “Duuude, don’t even joke about that!’” she giggled, “We’re, still, ya know teens,” she emphasized that by flicking her hand around. He continued laughing, tightened his grip on her, and kissed the top of her head. Even if he was teasing the poor girl, he always meant what he said.

“You’d look really pretty in this dress I saw the other day. It wasn’t long as shit like those rich people…” Narancia slowly trailed off realizing she wasn’t responding. When he looked down at her, he saw she wasn’t smiling anymore and looked lost in her own thoughts. He wiggled away from her a little to look at her properly and softly called her name. “Hey, you good?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” she looked at him earnestly and caught the poor boy off guard. What was going through that busy head of hers? He was speechless and for a moment he gawked at her. The frenzied teen then added with intensity, “You better stay with me forever and ever and and- I don’t- just… please..” And it finally clicked what she meant, and he gave her his biggest smile.

            “Don’t worry, miele! You’re gonna have to deal with me for a while,” he chimed as he pulled her closer and gave her another peck to her forehead. She looked up at him with watery eyes and smile, “I’d love nothing more. Just promise me, please?

            He leaned lower to kiss her softly on the lips. They both knew that was an impossible promise but still, “I’ll try my best.” He snuggled back up to her and they both slowly sunk back into the previous loving tranquility. They’ll both try, but mafia life was so unpredictable, but it’ll be worth the try if they could stay together.

“So, what are we gonna name our first kid?”

“Narancia Ghirga!!”

“Yeah, Mrs. Ghirga?” Narancia couldn’t stop laughing even as he was shoved off the bed.

              Three months. It’s been three months, but his voice still rings in her head. His goofy smile, bubbly laughter, his smothering hugs were all nothing but distant memories that no longer warmed her, but instead chilled her core. Their places where they caused mischief and held impromptu dates only held ghosts of what was and what could have been. These thoughts haunted her every waking moment. Even when she slept, they caused nothing but sweet dreams that left her bitter and empty in the morning. But Narancia wasn’t the only one she missed dearly. Finding Abbacchio in the state he was and running back full of hope to the colosseum only to find out Bruno was the final victim. But thanks to him, they find out he was actually the first. Giorno had admitted after their discovery that they had been travelling with a reanimated corpse. At the time her, Mista, Trish, were too busy crying to even care.

            For the new Don’s first year, she was present. When Fugo returned, she welcomed him with open arms. She stayed for as long as could but looking at Giorno mad her sick. Violence and anger grew inside by just being around him and his voice made her gag. Staying there brought her closer to the edge as she struggled between collapsing into tears or killing her Don in a fiery fit. That’s when she distanced herself from everyone. Of course, it worried Fugo and Mista to death when the last surviving member of their gang suddenly went off the radar. Even if it was for the wellbeing of everyone there, it didn’t sit right with anyone. Especially Giorno Giovanna.

             The two-year absence was hell, for her anyways. At first jobs would take her resumes and interviews, but soon they would turn her away at sight of her face or sound of her voice. Her temporary apartment kicked her out and hotels refused service to the point she was forced to either stay in motels or rent somewhere for a while until they too kicked her out. When people started to whisper and gossip as she passed by, that was the final straw. It was lonely. It was frustrating! Was it because of the mafia association? No, that should guarantee a decent job and place to stay. And then it clicked. The root of her problems lies at the head of Passione.

              So, here the young woman stood in front of him, arms wrapped securely around herself, as Mista stood watching them at the closed entrance. Giorno’s grown, nearly six feet and obviously physically stronger than before. She squeezed tighter hoping to mimic Narancia’s hugs as she tried to gather her courage and find the words. For a while it was suffocating silence as no one dared to speak first. They were both strategizing, planning how to attack and counter the other’s words. But finally, the devil’s replacement spoke, “Hello, tersoro. I’m glad to see you’re-“

“Cut the crap. I know what’re you doing. Stop it.” And with that she turned to leave. Mista stepped out the way to let her go until a soft laugh stopped her, “Are you still torn up about them? Really?” She stopped and slowly turned to face him. She finally snapped.

            “Are you serious?” She spat at him. “Why wouldn’t I be upset that you killed my friends? My family?!”

            “The love of your life?” She glared at the blonde as he had the audacity the smile at the thought of their deaths. In that moment, she wanted to kill him. Her stand was at the ready. Mista didn’t even attempt to reach for his gun as he knew she wouldn’t do something stupid like that, but he, too, thought of shooting Giorno as well. Giorno tsked and slowly walked around his desk to lean against the front of it, showing just how little her threat meant to him. “My dear, you don’t understand. They were steppingstones to help change Passione for the greater good.”

“Steppingstones?! Don’t act like their bodies were your path to “greatness”! What exactly have you fixed, huh? There are SEVEN more assassin squads. You haven’t stopped drugs like you promised Bruno. Instead, you’ve barely stopped selling it kids ten and under! Don’t act like they were your sacrifices!”  The rage burned inside her, and she could no longer control her words. “Why did they have to go to heaven, huh?! They deserve to be here, not you! Bruno should be where you are! Leone should’ve left you die! Narancia should be back in school! It’s all your FAULT!” They both lunged at Giorno only for GER to grab the opposing stand and for Giorno to effortlessly grabbed her fist. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist and the other then swooped in and tilted her head up to kiss her ever so softly.

            “My, my such a temper,” he murmured, “I’ve always loved that about you.” In that moment all the fire that was built up for years turned ice cold, as fear gripped her insides. She wasn’t expecting this strength. Wide eyes stared up into the unnatural turquoise of his. He slowly turned her head from side to side, as if examining her. “You poor thing. You look so tired and overworked,” and she was. “I bet those horrible businesses could see it on you. Turned you away like street trash. Poor, poor thing.” The young woman’s voice had left her as she tried to process everything. Just what was he planning?

            “D-Don’t act like you didn’t do all that crap to me” She hated the sudden stutter in her voice but was thankful words even came out. The young woman started fighting in his grip which caused him to tighten. “Let me go! What was that kiss?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” But she was only met with a chuckle. As he spun her around and pressed her back against his chest. “My dear, I was only trying to bring back what was mine. Tesoro, mia. So independent. We’ll have to break that.” She fought harder and let out a cry of pain as Giorno dug his fingernails in the meat of her cheeks, getting annoyed at her fighting spirit.

            “Now, I want you to listen to listen to me. I really don’t want to repeat myself,” he nipped her neck, “nor do I want to hurt more than I should.” Giorno leaned closer and whispered, “You’re mine. I’ve loved you for too long to let you get away and whore around like you did with him.”  He shoved her to the ground and held her there with his foot, pressing harder with every squirm. “Go against me, and your little angelo will be dug up, burned, and flushed down a portable. Or maybe I’ll finish off the rest of your gang.” She struggled to look up at him as he glared down at her. His mouth quirked into a smirk as he spoke again, “Whose to say mafioso even go to heaven, hm? My sweet, delusional darling.” Giorno dropped to the floor and scooped her up in his arms again hugging her tightly. She was too scared to fight back. Not knowing what would set him off. He quietly laughs at how broken the poor woman was. So easy to break in already.

            “Let me take care you. Love you. Cherish you like you deserve. You’ll learn to love me.” He gripped her arms in a bruising grasp and whispered dangerously smooth, “Or you’ll die trying.”

___________________________________________

Her wedding gown shimmered and swayed gently as she and her new husband made their way to the center of the dance floor. Each step weighted heavy on her heart as the gravity of it all grew. Their movements were calculated and coordinated, just like everything else because it was all artificial for her. There was no true love, no true feelings in this forced arrangement. No more fight in her dull eyes that refused to make eye contact with anyone because then they would see just how much he’s broken her in just a year. One wrong move will surely be the one she’ll ever make.

No one in the ballroom could see the despair ripping away whatever dignity was left as she wrapped her arms around his neck or the bile she choked back as he greedily slipped his arms around her waist. If only she could keep tightening her arms like a noose until he was no more but a horrid memory. The room was filled with ‘awws’ and loving gazes as the couple settled gracefully into the position they had practiced many a times before. She finally turned her emotionless gaze to him. Giorno Giovanna chuckled at her. His new wife was so dramatic.

“And now the newly weds will share their first dance together!” someone, who she didn’t care enough to learn their name, announced as if he was getting paid on his excitement and not on the fact if he squealed, he gets killed. She closed her eyes as the crowd cheered, swallowed her sickness, and sighed. She made it this long without throwing up or crying, she can get through this dance.

 “The groom has picked this song out specifically for his new, beautiful wife. Isn’t that romantic?” The crowd cheered and clapped in blissful ignorance at the display of affection. The bride’s eyes snapped open at this new revelation and stared in shock at Giorno who only smiled. But when the music began, her heart finally burst. Tears welled and spilled freely down her cheeks as that Aerosmith song, their song, played and she was forced to move to its now bittersweet beat. Giorno’s wife shakily looked up at him and chocked on her tears.  Once again, chuckled and lean in to whisper with honeyed venom his final victory,

“Oh miele, I bet he’s looking up at us right now, amore mio.”

(OK Tumblr formatting is weird but I wanna add: Yes it Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing that Narancia and darling picked as their first dance which Girono stole. And Narancia was the only one allowed to call darling Miele as an inside joke for “Honey! I’m Home”. Also WHY WAS THIS 2K+???)

#god im still in awe of this #so freakin good #narancia ghirga x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #cw yandere #cw major character death #submission #not mine #jjba #not sfw #suggestive

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Mentions of unwanted teen pregnancy, the pregnant girl being scared to tell her parents about it, her boyfriend suggesting for her to have an abortion, with her refusing to, them choosing to get married, the girl being pretty insecure about her boyfriend's love for her, her sister being dead and her brother being in Vietnam to serve in the war.

•Sorry if JJ and Derek seem out of character here, but that's how I needed to make teenage them for this story.

•I obviously made up JJ's brother Ronald, who in 1968, was 20 years old and serving in the Vietnam War. I also slightly changed the spelling of her sister's name, because it was easier for me to write it like this. Her sister still committed suicide at the age of 17 like in "Criminal minds", though, when Jennifer was 11 and their brother was 14.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @rynwritesreid, @reidmeister, @justalesbianwithsomegayshit, @thatonewritersstuff, @marril96, @c-m-stuff, @criminal-addict.

Between their two hearts

Chapter 4: From teenage sweethearts to a family

When in the afternoon of January 22, 1968, Jennifer asked him to go see her and for it to be just the two of them at the meeting, at first Derek wasn't worried.

His girlfriend had always been a discreet and even a bit shy person, so it wasn't strange for her to want to see him in a place where they would have been alone.

So as a place to meet her in, Derek chose his car, the gift that his mother had given him the previous Christmas, which was currently parked outside the school both he and Jennifer attended.

When his girlfriend arrived and sat in the car next to him, without saying a word for almost a minute, however, the boy began to worry.

Many different ideas began to run through his mind about what Jennifer was about to tell him, but in the end, she said the last thing he would have ever expected to hear at only 17 years old.

"Almost all my clothes are starting not to fit anymore and I'm always nauseous" she told him, unable to look into his eyes "So two days ago, I went to the doctor and he told me that I'm pregnant".

"Maybe he was wrong and you're like this just because you've been eating too much lately" Derek responded with a chuckle.

A part of him was hoping for a mistake the doctor had made, while the other, the more rational one, knew that wasn't the case.

Jennifer was four months pregnant and starting to show.

She was expecting, there was no doubt about that.

"Derek, I'm scared" Jennifer confessed to him with tears in her eyes "My parents will kill me when they find out. With Rosalynn dead and Ronald in Vietnam, they certainly don't need me to give them more things to worry about".

"We only had sex once!" Derek exclaimed, as if to say that he never expected this to happen after just one intercourse.

"I know, and you told me this wouldn't have happened" the girl reproached him.

"That's because I was as careful as I could!" her boyfriend reiterated, since he had already said those words to her quite a few times before.

"What can I do now?" Jennifer asked him a few seconds later, finally looking up at him.

"Well, you could get an abortion" Derek suggested, after thinking for a couple of minutes "That way, no one will ever know anything".

He wasn't really sure he wanted Jennifer to abort their son or daughter, but at that moment, that seemed like the best solution to their problem.

"No! You know it's forbidden, and I would never do that to our baby!" the girl exclaimed, sounding pretty much horrified.

"Then maybe we should get married" Derek suggested, thinking that that would have been the right thing to do.

"Really? We've only been together for six months" his girlfriend asked, obviously not feeling 100% sure of that choice.

"Yes, but we get along very well" the boy replied.

That was definitely the truth, and for him, obviously second to their baby's arrival on the world, it was a more than good enough reason to marry his girlfriend.

"And what will you do about university next year?" Jennifer then questioned, also because she didn't really feel ready to leave her parents' house to move to the city where Derek wanted to attend college.

"I won't get in anyway!" he retorted "I don't think the college I want to go to would admit a black person yet".

"Getting married," Jennifer sighed with a daydreaming smile on her face "Do you really think we should do that?".

"Of course" Derek confirmed "That's what all couples do, after all".

"But do you really love me? Or would you marry me just for the baby?" the girl then asked him, expressing one of the insecurities he was actually used to by that time.

"Of course I do, Jennifer" her boyfriend replied, taking her hand and squeezing it, then placing his other hand on her belly "I love you so much".

Yes, they were only 17 years old, but they really loved each other and for their little boy or girl, they were definitely ready to go from being teenage sweethearts to becoming a family.