#and juris is grumpy with her for it

[fluentmoviequoter]

Falling Slowly

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Summary: You are Tim's newest rookie, and his favorite. He treats you differently, able to see that your past affects you, and the little things build up until you can't deny your feelings.

Warnings: so much fluff, brief angst, domestic violence (Tim and reader respond to a call & allusions to past dv against reader), one scene is inspired by "The Switch" (1x4)

Word Count: 4.0k+ words

A/N: This doesn't really fit in any specific season, so I put characters in the roles I wanted them to have and just made up some names to fill in the gaps. Hopefully everything makes sense. Please let me know what you think!

Picture from Pinterest

“What are you doing here?” Angela asks, surprised to see Tim.

Furrowing his brows, Tim answers, “I’m here for the TO meeting.”

Angela tilts her head back and groans, passing Nyla a 10-dollar bill.

“She thought you’d give up your position for Metro,” Nyla explains.

“I’d like to, someday, but not today,” Tim replies.

“20 bucks this is his last one,” Angela says to Nyla. “He still has the open invite to Metro and his patience can’t take many more boots.”

Nyla reaches to shake Angela’s hand as Tim rolls his eyes and walks away.

“Let me see his rookie first, then we’ll talk,” Nyla decides. “I’ve got a feeling a lot is going to change around here.”

“Like what?” Angela asks. “Nyla! Like what?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station on your first day as a rookie is both nerve-wracking and exciting. You’ve heard stories about boots making it through the academy to fail once they reach this level, but you’re determined. When you were a kid, you were in bad situations more often than any child should be, but kind police officers changed your life, and you’d like to do the same.

Waving to one of your police academy friends, you sit in the bullpen, waiting impatiently to learn which officer behind you will be your training officer. Getting the perfect training officer is up to fate, based on what you’ve heard, and your TO can make or break your career.

“Good morning, boots! I am Watch Commander Wade Grey. You have made it through the police academy, but don’t expect a pat on the back, your work is just beginning. This is the time to prove yourself, to show your TO, me, and this city why you deserve to be a police officer.” He pauses, moving around the podium to add, “If you should be a police officer.”

As you listen intently, striving to remember every word Sergeant Grey says, two detectives stand at the back of the room and evaluate the rookies.

“He’s only got one shot,” Angela mutters.

“If he gets the pretty one in the front, I’m not taking the bet,” Nyla says.

Angela looks up a row, her brows raising when she sees you. “If he ends up with her, we’re starting a station-wide pool and getting rich,” she adds.

“Now, it’s time to be assigned to your judge, jury, and executioner,” Wade says with a smile. “Or, as we call them, TOs. Our former rookie turned TO, Nolan: you’ve got Edward Henderson.

 Officer Nolan nods at Henderson, and you remember his story: a late-life rookie who got a golden ticket. Part of you wants to work with him and learn why he decided on law enforcement, but you only nod at Henderson before turning back around.

“Lance Vincent, you are with our newest TO, Eliza Reagan.”

Wade says your name with a smile that seems a bit more genuine than before. “Officer Bradford, last but not least,” he says as he assigns you your new TO.

You look over your shoulder, a small smile on your face as he nods at you. He is undeniably attractive, and you hope it doesn’t cause any problems.

“Oh, he’s a goner,” Nyla whispers under her breath when you smile at Tim.

“Should we tell him?” Angela replies.

“I think we’ll have to.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Something about you bothers Tim. Not in the usual, grumpy-with-a-new-boot way, but he has a sense that you’re different. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, walking to Tim at the back of the bullpen.

He stands, offering a calloused hand to shake.

“I’m not going to pretend this is going to be easy or fun,” he tells you. “Being a rookie is the hardest part of your career, but if you’re a good cop under the uniform, you’ll be fine.”

Nodding, you promise to do your best and express your willingness to learn everything you can from him.

“Good,” he says. “Meet me outside the war room. We’re not wasting any time, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

Tim watches you walk away, and when you stop to let someone carrying a large box cross in front of you, Tim realizes that you’re hurting, or were hurting not long ago. The underlying need to help people is something he recognizes.

“She’s pretty,” Angela muses, walking to Tim’s side.

“Though you know that,” Nyla adds, smiling on his other side.

“She’s a boot. No different than the other rookies,” Tim argues, though his gaze is still on your back as you sign for your bags and weapons.

“Sure, she is. Why don’t you go put her through a Tim test?” Angela suggests.

Tim rolls his eyes as he leaves, wondering what hurt you bad enough to make you want to be a cop. He became a cop despite his hurt, but you’re young and bright – and too good for him – so there must be something in you that makes you worthy of this. More worthy (and more beautiful) than any rookie before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Several officers wish you luck, with one or two warning you about so-called “Tim Tests” while you wait for Tim behind the shop.

“Don’t tell me you have a checklist,” Tim begins, drawing your attention away from the shop tires.

“No, sir,” you answer. “Just being vigilant, I suppose. I’d hate to start my first day with a flat tire.”

Tim nods, asking where the war bags are. You tell him how you checked the contents and loaded them into the trunk, and he appreciates your brief explanation.

“Good work. The easy part is over,” Tim says. He seems to weigh his options before deciding, “You drive. Show me what you’ve got.”

He follows you to the driver’s side door, opening it as he reminds you of standard shop procedures. As Tim closes the door, you wonder if he’s a gentleman or if he followed you because he doesn’t trust you to drive correctly. Either way, you know what you’re doing, and you won’t let the man in the passenger seat distract you… too much.

Driving toward Wilshire Boulevard for patrol, Tim looks out the window. 

“Blue Camaro has an expired plate,” you alert.

“Call it in.”

You do so, hitting the sirens as you engage the traffic stop. Tim raises a hand to stop you from getting out.

“Remember your training. Don’t let the situation get away from you.”

His words linger in your mind, and you complete the stop with no problem, issuing a ticket and returning to the shop.

“I’m driving,” Tim alerts you, spreading his hand across the small of your back as he directs you to the sidewalk.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask when he starts the car.

“No,” he answers bluntly.

You lick your lips nervously, turning your attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, Tim pulls over and hits the brakes.

“I’ve been shot, boot. Where are we?” Tim demands.

Furrowing your brows in surprise at his actions, you answer, “Intersection of 12th and Meadowbrook, west of Redondo. There are several hospitals in a five-mile radius, but only one has a trauma center.”

Tim pulls out wordlessly, continuing his patrol route. Tim doesn't say much else throughout the few hours between his first test and lunch. He lets you point things out, answers your questions about the area and procedures, and glances at you out of the corner of his eye. When he pulls up to a small circle of food trucks where several police officers are waiting, he turns toward you.

“You’re doing well. I’m not neglecting to give you good feedback for any reason other than once you start riding alone, you won’t get it. My role here is to prepare you for your solo career, not hold your hand until you get there.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you for answering my questions,” you reply as you open the door.

Tim’s hand finds your upper back as he leads you to his favorite of the food trucks, a light touch that disappears nearly as quickly as it happened. You thank him quietly for the suggestion before sitting with your fellow rookies.

“Hi, Tim,” Angela says.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his annoyance breaking through his growing fondness for you.

“Just came to get some food. Your boot seems to be in a good mood.”

“Strange, I thought Tim’s thing was ‘break their spirits in the first hour,’” Nyla adds as she joins Angela.

“You two not have work to do or something?” Tim inquires.

“Something like that. How’s she doing?” Angela tips her chin toward you as she asks.

“She’s got good instincts, knows protocols.”

“But?”

Tim shrugs, turning away before Angela can dig deeper.

“I give it a week,” Nyla announces.

“Before what?”

“He can’t take it anymore.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Domestic disturbance in your area,” dispatch alerts.

Tim grabs the radio, accepting the call as he hits the sirens and turns into a residential area. You chew the inside of your bottom lip; domestic calls are your least favorite, especially when kids are involved. Unwilling to show discomfort, you put on your best brave cop face and follow Tim to the door.

A young girl with a bloody nose and teary eyes opens it, and you glance at Tim before kneeling and asking her to come outside. She listens without question, her lower lip wobbling as you smile.

“He’s hurting my mom,” she whimpers.

Tim nods at you before tilting his head toward the shop. You direct the girl to stand at the edge of the porch and wait for you as you follow Tim inside.

“LAPD, put your hands up!” Tim yells as he steps into a bedroom.

Your eyes widen when you see the large man towering over the girl’s mother. He smiles as he reaches for something.

“Don’t move unless you want to give me a reason,” Tim says lowly. “Step away.”

The man looks toward the nightstand before taking a deep breath and giving up. 

“I got it,” Tim tells you before radioing a code 4.

You wait until Tim has the handcuffs secured to walk outside. The girl runs into your arms, and you pop the shop's trunk, setting her down as you retrieve a small first aid kit. She lets you clean her bloody nose, gripping your wrist when it stings.

“Where’s my mom?” she asks.

“She’s talking to my partner right now, she’ll be out in a few minutes,” you explain.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you answer.

“Mom!” she yells, letting you set her on the ground before she runs to her mom’s side.

“Get in the shop,” Tim commands as he walks past, his hand brushing your arm as he closes the trunk.

You obey, climbing into the passenger seat and waiting as he talks to the EMTs. When he joins you, he drives to a quiet, empty street before switching off his body cam and gesturing for you to do the same.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer than you’ve heard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t say what I want to hear. Domestic calls are tough but that wasn’t your first one, was it?”

You shake your head, looking out the windshield instead of at Tim.

“We all have reasons for becoming a cop, and some calls are harder than others. As long as your past doesn’t get in the way and put you in danger, it’s okay to be human,” he continues. “TOs are notoriously hard on you, but we’re also here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Tim shrugs, one corner of his lips upturned. “No more sappy stuff, we have work to do.”

“Oh, if you think that was sappy, I’ve got a lot to show you before I graduate to short sleeves.”

The comment catches Tim off guard and makes him feel something he didn’t expect.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the first week, you feel like you know Tim well. His hand spread across your back or shoulder when you’re in front of him, his little reminders that you’re not alone, that you can show emotion when the time allows, and every other little thing he does makes you wonder why there are so many horror stories around his teaching style.

Likewise, Tim thinks he has you down. You ask him questions, ask for his opinions, listen and apply what he says, and send him small smiles when he compliments your work.

But, it only takes a shift to realize that people are multi-faceted, and cops and rookies are no different.

“Good morning,” you greet, passing Tim a small box.

“What is this? A bribe?” he asks.

You smile as you reply, “Nope. Just something I found, and I thought you’d like.”

Tim opens the box, his eyes widening at the 2000 Super Bowl tickets, the Rams’ first win. “I can’t accept these.”

“They were under a bookshelf in my apartment, it’s not like I spent a million dollars on them, Officer Bradford.”

Tucking them into his pocket, Tim opens your door. “Thank you.”

You smile, and Tim thinks your joy is the better gift.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your first call of that day, you show Tim that you don’t just value his opinions.

“Shots fired!” you radio as you duck behind the car.

“Are you hit?” Tim asks.

Shaking your head, you move closer, trusting him to direct you and keep you safe. The men in the house you were called to have automatic weapons, and though you’re a good shot, you’re not a match for their guns alone.

“Backup is on the way, but I need you to do something for me. You trust me?” Tim adds.

“I do.”

“Reach around the back and open the trunk; just far enough to reach the latch. I’ll cover you.”

He stands above you, firing into the shattered window of the house as you slip your arm and back around the end of the shop and open the trunk.

“Good, perfect,” Tim praises as he ducks beside you. His knuckles graze yours as he leans past you. “Can you reach the shotguns?”

Glancing in the window above you, you locate them quickly. “I can.”

“Do it. I got you.”

Once the shotguns are in your hands, you pass one to Tim as you ready your own. Timing your shots, you take out two shooters just as your backup arrives.

“You’re bleeding,” Tim says, his adrenaline dropping as a tactical team takes over.

You look at your arm, just noticing your ripped sleeve and bloody skin. Tim lays his hands on your arm as he turns it toward him.

“I think it was just glass from the windshield,” you say quietly, pointing to the car behind you, riddled with bullet holes and broken glass.

“Either way, we need to get it checked out.”

“Officer Bradford?” you interject. “Thank you. For making sure I trust you.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he mutters, so soft you can barely hear it.

He taps the Super Bowl tickets in his pocket as he rises to get a paramedic to check on you, and you smile, wondering how bad it would be if you fell in love with your TO.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tim points out. “I need to know that whatever is bothering you won’t impair your ability to work with me.”

“It won’t,” you promise. “Sorry.”

Tim considers pressing, but he trusts you. “I’m here. If you decide you want to talk about it.”

He exits the shop and opens your door before you can reach for the handle.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Did you see that?” Nyla gushes, elbowing Angela.

“Ow. See what?”

Nyla points to Tim, closing your door and laying a hand on your shoulder as he ducks his head to talk to you.

“That’s not a reprimand,” Angela deduces.

When you smile, a tiny upturning of your lips, Nyla laughs.

“Oh, that boy… The door, the touches, listening to her? He’s gone.”

“Not just him,” Angela adds. “She asks him questions, smiles at him, trusts him more than anyone… and the Super Bowl tickets? They’re adorable.”

“Should we do something?”

“Not yet. I think they’re close to realizing.”

✯✯✯✯✯

After your longest, and worst, day yet, you find yourself in a hospital waiting room beside Tim. He hasn't said anything since a speeding driver ran into your side of the shop, though you've apologized countless times (even though there's nothing you could have done).

Tim’s jaw is clenched so tight you’re worried it will snap. You’re sitting close to him, a bandage around your wrist and an ice pack pressed to your cheek.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Stop- stop apologizing, it’s not your fault,” Tim sighs.

His arm is on the armrest between you, and you move your hand toward his. When he doesn’t back away, you turn your arm to allow your knuckles to brush against his.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him kindly. “He ran a red light.”

“And you could’ve been killed,” Tim replies, standing abruptly and walking away.

You slump in your seat, dejected and curious about what you could say to make him stop blaming himself for someone running into you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim and his rookie sitting in a tree,” Nyla sings under her breath.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Tim replies.

“Right, because you’re too busy being mad that she got hurt. Cops get hurt Tim,” Angela reminds him.

“Not with me,” he begins, pausing to take a deep breath. “Despite what you think, I’m upset that she got hurt, not because I’m in love with her.”

“Whatever you got to hear, buddy,” Nyla replies. “But tell me this. If it was Nolan when he was a boot, would you have felt this bad? Even if I believed you didn’t have feelings for her, which I don’t, you’re different with her and you know it.”

Tim sighs, looking out the door at you. He knows it’s true; despite his constant denial, he does treat you differently because you are different, and you’re like a magnet, incapable of being ignored or forgotten. Finally confessing it to himself, Tim knows that his feelings for you will get one or both of you in trouble unless something changes.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It is time for The Switch,” Wade says as he walks into the bullpen. “The day you ride with a new TO.”

You glance at Tim, who gives you an encouraging nod. He tells you that you’re a great rookie, but he also tells you that you’re pretty sometimes, which doesn’t seem pertinent (or always true, in your eyes). Wade says your name, and you look up.

“You’re with Nolan,” he tells you.

Smiling at Nolan, you cross your fingers under the desk that it’s a good day. 

“Henderson,” you call as he stands up, “what’s Nolan like?”

“He’s great. Really understanding and knowledgeable. A little talkative, but fairly easy going. Just stick to protocol and listen to his directions; you’ll be fine.”

“What about Bradford?” Vincent asks you. “Everyone says he’s the toughest. Anything I should be aware of?”

“I don’t think so. He’s quiet sometimes, but he’s great.”

You collect your war bag with the expectation of a good day. You will miss Tim, but learning how another TO teaches and his views can be invaluable. As you slide into the driver’s seat beside Nolan, you realize something: you like Tim as more than your TO. He means more to you than just being your teacher, your mentor, and a trustworthy officer. The thought hits you so suddenly you're not sure where it came from.

With each passing moment, you find yourself remembering something Tim said or wanting to tell him something, but he isn’t there. Nolan is kind and laughs at your muttered comments, but it is nothing like riding with Tim. As you think about all the little things Tim does, everything begins to make sense.

Someone yells your name when you step out of the shop to get lunch. Turning, you’re surprised to see Vincent storming up to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.

“Tell you what?”

“That Bradford has ‘Tim Tests’ and nothing pleases him!”

You glance over his shoulder, finding Tim and Nolan talking. Tim glances over at you, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease until Nolan says something else.

“His Tim Tests aren’t that bad; he’s just teaching you awareness and safety.”

“He wants to end my career,” Vincent exclaims before muttering something about you not understanding as he walks away.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s Vincent doing?” Nolan asks.

“That kid has no situational awareness,” Tim answers. “I stopped at a street sign, and he couldn’t figure out where we were.”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Nyla interjects. “And, no, Bradford, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“My rookie can tell me where I am, no matter what,” Tim adds.

“Your rookie is very good, I’ll give you that,” Nolan replies. “But Vincent has potential. Besides, your boot has people problems.”

Tim glances over at you, locking eyes with you while Vincent talks to you dramatically.

“So do I, but I’m still a good cop.”

Nyla watches as both you and Tim sigh before abandoning the conversations you’re in. She shakes her head, calculating her winnings if the betting pool goes her way.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking out of the locker room at the end of the day, you’re surprised to be called into Sergeant Grey’s office. You sit across from him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt to spend your nervous energy.

“You are being assigned to a new TO. Officer Bradford has decided to hand you off to someone better equipped to teach you,” Grey informs. “But you’re not in trouble.”

You still your hands in your lap. “Okay. Effective when?”

“Monday morning. So, rest up.”

As you stand, Grey says your name, smiling as he repeats, “You’re not in trouble. This was Bradford’s decision, nothing to do with you. Well, nothing to do with you as a rookie.”

You purse your lips at his phrasing, and he chuckles before sending you out. Walking through the parking lot, you see Tim’s truck is still there and decide to ask him what happened. Standing by the tailgate, you chew your bottom lip as you wait, nervous that you did something, though Wade assured you differently.

Tim walks up unnoticed, saying your name to get your attention.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask, jumping straight to your questions. “I can fix it; there has to be a way to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Tim promises. “I just can’t be your TO anymore.”

“Why not?”

Tim shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “It’s not appropriate.”

Your heart drops. Tim knows you have feelings for him, and it makes him uncomfortable; that’s the only explanation. Nodding slowly, you accept your fate.

“And I can’t do this,” Tim adds.

His hands slide onto your jaw, his palms against your cheeks as his fingers settle behind your ears, pulling you into a quick kiss. You only begin to respond when he pulls back.

“You’re the best boot I’ve ever had,” he whispers, brushing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.

“I’m not your boot anymore,” you remind him.

“That’s your fault. Those little gifts, and soft smiles, and how well you listen… You make it impossible not to fall for you.”

You laugh, leaning against his hands as you reply, “You do too. How do you think I felt when you called me pretty or touched my back? Then you kept comforting me and inviting me to talk. It was too easy.”

“Go to dinner with me?” he asks.

You nod, smiling against his hands before he moves to touch your back again, opening the passenger door as he helps you in. Tim slips his hand into yours, kissing your knuckles as he keeps you close.

✯✯✯✯✯

When the rest of the rookies leave the station, noticing that your car is still there, they ask each other if anyone has seen you.

“Bradford’s truck is gone,” Nyla notices as she walks out.

“Looks like we won,” Angela cheers.

“Where’s Bradford?” Vincent asks.

“On a date,” Nyla answers. “With his former boot.”

The rookies’ jaws drop, wondering how you managed to pull Mid-Wilshire’s resident grump.

“Don’t expect the same to happen to you,” Angela says as she passes the rookies. “We all worked for this one.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x WednesdayAddams!reader [1.2K]

Steve knew he loved you very, very quickly. The feeling came at him fast and hard a few months in, overtaking the overwhelming ache of being so taken by you, the soft fondness that followed when you became his.

It slipped over him like a warmth, dizzying and new; because this was very different than anything he’d felt before. And he wanted to tell you - god, he wanted to tell you so badly - but he was careful not to scare you, to pile on too much emotion and feelings and intensity. It had taken a while for you to lean into his touch, to seek it out when the lights were low and you weren’t surrounded by his friends.

‘Cause they could be too loud, too bright, too much at times and Steve saw the way your nose would crinkle in disdain, the way your eyes would flash with a little annoyance when Dustin and Mike roughhoused and nudged into you too many times. Steve didn’t want to be the reason for you to look like that, to feel like that and Jesus Christ, how did you tell the girl that said she hated colour and fun and affection that you loved her?

(Steve knew you didn’t really hate fun and you definitely didn’t hate affection - not from him, anyway - and well, the jury was still out on colour.)

You definitely didn’t hate him. No, Steve knew that too. ‘Cause you looked at him with a softness that his friends never got to see, a fond look in your eyes that overtook your usual sullen gaze and you liked to hold his hand under the table, you liked to run your fingers through his hair before you fell asleep and when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, Steve would hide his smile when you pressed your face to his neck and rubbed your nose to his skin.

But love? Did you love him like he loved you? Steve didn’t know. Steve was scared to ask.

But he didn’t need to, not when you told him one day out of the blue, voice matter of fact but undeniably soft as you lay in his bed with him.

It wasn’t about sex, no, you both were dressed - even though you were mostly in Steve’s clothes - lying lazy amongst his sheets as a movie played on his TV screen and the sun outside was setting.

The macabre scene of zombies ripping the flesh of a pretty blonde girl didn’t seem to upset you the way it did Steve, the boy grimacing and squinting at the gore on screen. It gave you the chance to watch him, smile small and knowing, playful gaze giving way to that soft, fondness you could feel all over.

That sticky, warm affection that clung to your chest when you looked at him for too long, taking in his pretty features, breath caught in your throat. Long lashes, honey brown eyes, strong nose, stronger jaw, the rasp of a stubble over his cheeks that made you flush, pouty, pink lips that made you like colour.

The sun outside was low in the sky and it was dipping between the trees and the other houses in the street, peeking through the gap in the curtain in just the right way to turn him to gold. He was a hundred different shades of bronze and rose, violet and lavender shadows, eyes spun sugar, freckles lit up by setting sunlight.

Steve was as pretty as his personality; all deep and warm and a little flawed. Scars on his hands and face and heart, perfectly imperfect and you loved him for it.

Loved him.

He was moody and grumpy in the mornings, he didn’t like his coffee made by anyone but himself, he was touchy about his car and he spent too much time caring about his hair. But he was clever in a way you’d never witnessed before, logical as he was heartfelt, soft for you and the people he loved, stupidly brave in the face of danger, affection to the point of making you flustered and oh my god — you loved Steve Harrington.

The realisation didn’t make your chest pound as much as you expected it too, your breath only catching in your throat for a second before you pushed yourself further into the boy’s arms, nose pressed to the soft, clean smelling skin of his neck. You felt his pulse thrum against you, once, twice, three times, his arms pulling you into him as he yawned.

You didn’t sit up to tell him, you just lay where you were, lax and warm against his side, a leg thrown over his hip where his shirt had ridden up. On screen, an actress screamed as her arm got chewed off and Steve snorted at the spurt of too red blood.

You hadn’t said these words to anyone before, except for your parents, and even then, they hadn’t heard it from you in a long, long time. But Steve was holding you against him with his warm hand splayed against your bare back, tucked up inside his sweater. His thumb ran circles over your skin and every now and then, he’d tilt his face to yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your hair as he kept his eyes on the movie.

You’d know for a while, you’d realised. It took a while to understand it, but you got it now. You felt it. It felt like warmth and a sticky affection that clung to your heart. It felt like sunshine on bare skin, too big sweaters and summer even when it was gloomy skies. It smelled like cedar and pine and mint and boy, like Steve, like tangled sheets in the morning, hot showers at night.

It was just Steve.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice surprisingly strong. Your lips brushed his neck as you spoke and the boy shivered. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Steve sounded a little distracted, voice rough from not talking as the movie played.

“I love you.”

No one spoke. No one moved. In fact, you weren’t all that sure that Steve hadn’t gone catatonic. But he was still breathing, only just you realised, his chest stuttering once underneath you before he let out a heaving breath.

You heard him swallow, his hand roaming over your back before he clutched at your hip and turned into you, the bridge of his nose pressed to your forehead and even though you couldn’t see him, you were almost sure his eyes were closed. His lips found the high of your cheekbone, brushing so, so softly over your lashes.

His voice was a rough rasp when he finally did speak, thick with an emotion you expected but it still made you smile into his chest.

“I love you, too,” Steve murmured. “Like, a lot.”

You pulled back to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum as someone else in the movie screamed and died a bloody death. Steve was only looking at you.

His eyes were warm - so, so warm - his lips turned up at the corners like he was ready to burst, like he wanted to beam. His hand caught your waist, rough with callouses, a push and pull against your skin as he tugged you closer.

You tried not to smile, you really did. Lips downturned and voice a little huffy but your eyes were glittering and oh my god, Steve was so in love.

“Good,” you told him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

[gamerwoo]

[SVT Imprinted] Wonwoo: Perfect (Part 4)

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, fluff, angst(???), reader’s pregnant, giving birth oh boy!!, reader makes some graphic threats lmao, for the record idk shit about giving birth :)

Word count: 3,696

Summary: Nine months of mood swings, weird cravings, and crying at the smallest things has finally led to one of the biggest moments in your life. You just hope Wonwoo doesn’t miss it.

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You were in the worst mood that afternoon. You were having bad stomach aches, Wonwoo wasn’t going to be home for a few more hours, and all you wanted was your mate to hold you and give you kisses. Therefore, you were grumpy and whiny – something that Jihoon and Hansol had to put up with since the alpha was trying to get in more time with his own mate.

You were also past your due date, which was making you irritable. You were supposed to have this baby around the time Juri and Seungcheol had their fight, but you were still just as pregnant as you were then, with no signs of that changing anytime soon.

Wonwoo didn’t mind it, though. He thought you were cute when you were pregnant. Not to mention him kissing your stomach and whispering to it and reading and singing to it was absolutely heartwarming, but still, you were in too much pain to want to be pregnant any longer.

“_____, just take the vitamins,” Jihoon sighed, still holding the bottle in his hand.

You shook your head furiously, holding one of the pillows on your bed to your chest as you sat by the headboard.

You were close to tears, and the two wolves saw that -- they didn’t know why but they assumed it was just because you were annoyed that you were still pregnant and tired and sore. Or maybe it was because you wanted Wonwoo – and it was partly that – but it was also because your stomach hurt so bad. You figured it was just the baby kicking again, so you just continued to squeeze your pillow and frown at the two wolves, trying to hold back frustrated tears.

“_____,” Hansol frowned, not liking that you were about to cry, “it’s okay. Wonwoo will be home soon, but you have to take these now. He’ll be too tired to remember to give them to you.”

You just shook your head again, glaring at the floor, “No. My stomach hurts and I don’t want to be pregnant anymore.”

Jihoon’s head cocked to the side slightly, “It hurts?”

You nodded, eyes flashing up to meet his yellow ones, “Yeah…”

“Is that why you’re crying?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Kinda… It’s just kicking harder, I think.”

Jihoon sat at the edge of the bed, studying you closely, “Does the pain come in intervals?”

He didn’t know much about being pregnant, but he’d seen enough movies and TV shows to know some things.

“I’m not keeping track!” you huffed, not liking that he was questioning you so much.

“Did your water break?”

“I-I don’t know. I thought it was just my bladder again…”

Jihoon groaned, his head rolling to look over at the younger wolf, “Go tell Seungcheol that _____’s going into labor. We need to go to the hospital now. Have Aya call her mom, too.”

“What?” you heartbeat was suddenly speeding up.

Suddenly, you were perfectly fine with this baby staying inside of you. You knew giving birth would hurt – even after it was over – and it wasn’t something you were really excited to deal with. Plus, you were just a human. You couldn’t heal like the wolves could, so you’d just be in pain for really long.

As Hansol rushed out of the room, Mingyu rushed in, “Did you say _____ is in labor?”

You started to feel the pain building in your stomach again, only this time, it was getting more intense.

“Yeah,” Jihoon nodded, hands moving to help you up, “so can you go call Wonwoo, please?”

“How can you tell?” Mingyu asked.

This pain was worse than the others, especially when you were moving, it seemed. You let out a yell of pain, unable to keep it in. Your hands gripped whatever you could – it happened to be Jihoon – squeezing has hard as you could.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Just go call Wonwoo, you idiot!” the older wolf ordered.

Mingyu swiftly left, pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“Come on, we need to get you in the car,” he told you, trying to keep his voice calm and soft even though you were about to have a baby and he had no idea if you’d even make it to the hospital on time. “Where does Wonwoo keep the hospital bag?”

“C-Closet,” you breathed through the pain.

Jihoon could heard multiple footsteps storming up the stairs, and he hoped they were of people who planned to help rather than get in the way and ask questions. Thankfully, Joshua was leading the group upstairs, and was quick to help Seungcheol carry you down the stairs when asked. The rest of the group quickly moved out of the way, either scrambling up the stairs or rushing down them to make way.

“Somebody get the hospital bag from _____’s closet,” Joshua ordered, and somebody ran down the hall to retrieve it.

“Wonwoo didn’t answer his phone!” Mingyu called down the stairs.

“Well, then everybody better spam his phone,” Joshua laughed harshly, feeling your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder as you grunted and groaned at the pain, “because this baby is coming with or without him.”

“Without him?!” you cried.

No. There was no way in hell you were having a baby without him. You knew you couldn’t do it if Wonwoo wasn’t there. If he really didn’t show up, what were you going to do? Sure, your pack could be just as supportive, but you wanted your mate – the only person that ever truly made you feel safe.

“Shh, don’t worry, _____,” Seungcheol told you, his voice soft and reassuring, “he’ll show up. Wonwoo would never miss this.”

-

Everybody knew they couldn’t stay in the room with you the whole time, and since Joshua was already supposed to be in there anyway, you had to decide who would be your replacement Wonwoo until the real Wonwoo showed up – if he showed up.

While Seungcheol was helpful at home, you already knew he’d be awkward while you were in labor. While you thought Minghao or Junhui would be a good pick – they would have to go through this later with Yoona anyway – you figured the two wolves going through this once would be enough. Juri was one of your best friends and she was incredibly supportive, but you didn’t want to subject her to your possible screaming or possibly breaking her hand.

Aya seemed like your best option.

Aya was not only strong enough to handle your hand-squeezing, but she was also good at being reassuring. She was the best of both worlds, and it wouldn’t be awkward if she saw your vagina. She had seen it before anyway, and she planned on being in the room to help her mom and Joshua, so she seemed like the best choice. 

“Where’s Wonwoo?” you whined, already laying down in a bed as you waited to go to the delivery room to actually have the baby. You weren’t dilated enough yet, so you were just in a crowded room where your pack freely went in and out. “Why isn’t he answering?”

“He’s still at work so he probably hasn’t checked his phone,” Jeonghan tried to explain as he sat on a small couch-like chair and stared up at the ceiling.

“He’ll be here, _____,” Juri promised with a warm smile.

But he wasn’t there, and you didn’t hear anything from him for hours. It wasn’t until 10pm that Seungcheol came running into the room with his cellphone pressed to his ear.

“Wonwoo’s on his way,” he reported.

But then he didn’t get to the hospital until 11pm because he worked farther away from the hospital. And by that time, Joshua and Dr. Moon were both insisting you take the epidural, but you were refusing through tears because the needle looked big and you didn’t want them to stab your spine with it. But you had also been crying from pain since you showed up.

“_____, it’ll help you feel better,” Joshua’s soft voice tried to persuade you.

But you weren’t having it. You weren’t listening to anybody, not even Aya’s mother. You just wanted Wonwoo. Without your mate, you were just terrified and irritable.

“No!” you cried, tears still on your face from the last round of contractions that were particularly harsh. “That needle is massive, and I swear to god, Josh, I’ll jam it up your ass if you try to make me get anything using that thing!”

The small group had been trying to convince you off and on for hours until Wonwoo finally rushed into the room, hair a mess and breathing like he had run all the way from work to the hospital.

As soon as you saw him, you reached out for him, letting go of your strong grip on Aya’s hand as she sighed in relief and rubbed her hand. Wonwoo went right up to you, peppering your face that was damp from tears with sweet kisses as he smoothed your messy hair back.

“I’m so so so so sorry,” he mumbled, stroking your cheek softly. “I was at work so my phone was off, and then I saw all the calls and messages and voicemails and– Fuck, _____, I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now, and the baby isn’t, so you’re good,” Joshua reassured him.

“And my hand won’t have to be cut off,” Aya commented quietly as she gestured for Jeonghan to leave the room with her – following the group that Seungcheol and Juri were ushering out so you could be alone with Wonwoo. “I’ll be back.”

Joshua just nodded at Aya before he looked at Wonwoo, still holding the needle in his hand, “Can you please convince _____ to let us give her this?”

“Baby,” Wonwoo frowned as he looked down at you, “you said you’d want anything that would keep you from being in pain. Why don’t you want to take it now?”

“Um, hello?! Look at the needle!” you exclaimed, pointing at how long and menacing the sharp object looked. “I don’t want that in my spine!”

“_____, I wouldn’t let anybody give you something that would hurt you. It’ll just feel like some pressure, and then you’ll feel better,” he promised, taking both of your hands in his. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded with a small pout on your face. So Wonwoo helped you to sit on the edge of the bed while Joshua exposed your back and prepped you for the shot. Wonwoo kept both of his hands in yours, eyeing his brother to prepare for the inevitable squeeze to his hands.

“Ready?” Joshua asked.

“No,” you mumbled, “but yeah…”

Joshua inserted the needle, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Wonwoo didn’t find the pressure you put on his hands to be too bad, but he expected it to get worse later. He was honestly surprised you were actually able to hurt Aya – unless it was just from her hand being crushed in your grip for a long period of time – considering the werewolves’ pain tolerance was very high.

Contractions after the epidural did feel a bit duller, but they still didn’t feel nice. You just wanted the baby out of you, but it took two more hours for you to finally be dilated enough to go to the delivery room. And that was when your nerves spiked once again, and you felt yourself starting to panic.

“I can’t do this!” you suddenly decided, as if that would suddenly make it so you didn’t have to give birth.

“Love, you have to,” Wonwoo told you as he walked beside you while you were wheeled to the designated delivery room.

“But it’s going to hurt, and stitches, and blood, and–”

“_____, you’re going to start hyperventilating,” Wonwoo frowned, looking down at you as he gave your hand a soft squeeze. “I’ll be beside you the whole time, and I promise you’ll be okay.”

So, like every other time you were scared of something, you put all your trust in Wonwoo. As Dr. Moon got everything prepped and ready, you looked up at Wonwoo in pure terror but felt a little bit better just looking up into his gold eyes with little bits of brown from his contacts still freckled in. As it hit you that this was it – you were going to be a mother – you found solace in the fact that Wonwoo would be with you to help you no matter what. And as Dr. Moon told you to push, you found comfort in the warmth of Wonwoo’s hand around yours.

Everything was kind of a blur. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of swearing and death threats – mainly from you toward the two male wolves in the room, but Joshua threatened Wonwoo once (”It’s great that _____’s back to her normal self, but if your mate really tries disembowel me in my sleep, I’ll kill you.”) – and lots of reassurance. No matter what kind of profanities or otherwise you threw at anybody, they kept telling you that you were doing great and that you could do this and that it was almost over.

“If you tell me it’s almost over one more time, Hong,” you began through clenched teeth as you gripped Wonwoo’s hand harder than you ever gripped anything in your life, “I’m going to take a fucking scalpel and shove it up your–”

“If you keep threatening him, I’m probably going to actually die,” Wonwoo told you, interrupting your next threat.

“No, he’s serious this time,” Dr. Moon smirked – she’d been laughing softly at the whole ordeal. “The head is crowning.”

Wonwoo stepped to the side, leaning over to see, but you quickly tugged on his hand to yank him back toward your head. He just chuckled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “Darling, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“I don’t care,” you whined. “I need you up here.”

“_____, it’s almost over,” Aya promised. “Just one more big push.”

You shook your head, tears continuing to fall from your face like they had been this whole time, “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” he nodded, wrapping his free hand around the hand of yours that he still held. “Now squeeze my hand as hard as you can, and push when Dr. Moon tells you.”

So as soon as you were instructed, you did as told. Wonwoo finally understood why Aya was cradling her hand to her chest, but you were doing it! You were giving birth to your baby – something you were terrified to do – and he had never been so proud of you.

The pressure was suddenly gone, and your body instinctively relaxed against the bed, your bones and muscles feeling like jelly. Your eyes closed as you heard a cry fill the room, and you heard Wonwoo making a soft noise somewhere between laughing and crying.

You kept your eyes closed, but you felt Wonwoo’s lips press to your forehead before you heard him whisper, “It’s a girl.”

-

Wonwoo stood outside the window to look at the newborns, staring at the one that had your names on the crib. The two of you had talked about baby names for both genders but you’d never officially decided on one. He was trying to figure out what your baby looked like she should be named, but he just wasn’t sure.

“Hey,” Minghao walked up to Wonwoo, standing beside him as he looked over the group of babies before he finally spotted the one Wonwoo was looking at. “She’s really cute.”

“I love her already,” Wonwoo chuckled, his hands shoved into his jeans that he’d been wearing since the morning before. “Even when I saw her covered in blood and everything, I loved her.”

“_____ doesn’t do well with blood,” Minghao recalled with a soft laugh. “Hope she didn’t see.”

“She almost fell asleep as soon as it was over,” Wonwoo admitted. “She’s almost done getting stitched up, and then she gets to officially meet our daughter – y’know, that’s so weird to say: our daughter.”

“You’re a dad now, dude” Minghao smirked, nudging the older wolf in his side.

“You’ll be one soon, too.”

“Yeah, that’s even weirder to think about.”

“Nah, you’re one of the more responsible ones.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they stared at the baby girl, until Wonwoo spoke up again quietly, “You know, _____ and I think really highly of you, right?”

Minghao’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink at the suddenly compliment, “I-I guess so. Why are you suddenly saying that?”

“I know things are tough with you and Junhui still, and I don’t want you to think anything bad about yourself,” Wonwoo said, looking away from the window to look at the younger wolf.

“I know Jun doesn’t mean anything he says,” Minghao sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if he’ll always be like this or not, but I know it’s just because he’s upset. It doesn’t make me feel bad about myself, it just makes me feel bad for Yoona.”

“Well, I’m sure things will work out,” Wonwoo nodded with a warm smile, resting a hand on Minghao’s shoulder. “For now, you can play uncle.”

“You can meet her,” Aya spoke up, walking toward the two boys. “_____’s all fixed up, so we’re going to bring her in. You should probably get the pack – they’re gonna wanna meet her, too.”

-

It was like the whole world was being put in your arms, and all you could do was smile until your cheeks hurt. You couldn’t believe something half you was so damn perfect – you assumed she got it from Wonwoo’s genes. Her eyes were still closed, and she had a little pink hat covering her head – Joshua insisted she had a head full of brown, curly hair – but even so, you thought she was absolutely perfect.

You and Wonwoo had lists of baby names that would fit for both of you. Something that your family and his would both appreciate. But now as you looked at your daughter, none of them felt right.

“She’s so cute!” Areum squealed softly – everyone was being very careful as to not wake her – before looking over at Chan beside her.

Chan was already putting a finger to her lips before she could even say anything, “Don’t start.”

“Good thing she looks more like _____ than you,” Junhui teased from your other side as he leaned over the bed to get a better look. “That’s why she’s so cute, Won.”

Junhui was an absolute sucker for the baby, which made you hope that he would be even more fond of the twins Yoona was supposed to be having soon.

“It’s gonna be so nice having a baby around the house,” Seokmin mused as he looked over Bomi’s shoulder to see the baby in her arms. “I mean, other than the crying in the middle of the night.”

“That’s all babies do, Seok,” Aya snorted.

“Can I hold her?” Mingyu asked, standing behind his mate with a pout on his face.

Jihoon frowned at Mingyu as the baby was handed off to him next, “No, you’ll drop her.”

Your daughter made her way around the room, each person getting a chance to hold her while Wonwoo continually kissed whatever part of you he could while murmuring how well you did and how much he loved you and how proud of you he was. He kept your hand in his warm one as you rested your eyes, listening to the pack coo at your daughter – even Jihoon, who seemed slightly awkward holding a baby. 

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Soonyoung was arguing with his pack over him being the best babysitter, and your eyelids just started to feel heavy.

The next thing you heard was Wonwoo’s voice singing softly.

“--When skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.”

You opened your eyes and rolled your head to the other side. The windows showed the sun was starting to come up, and your room was empty. The pack must’ve gone home now. But Wonwoo was still awake, holding your daughter in his arms as he sang to her.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away,” he finished before pressing the softest kiss to her forehead.

And suddenly, you had an idea for a name.

“What about Sonny?” you asked, your voice hoarse from sleep -- and probably all the yelling, crying, and grunting you did.

Wonwoo’s head snapped up, eyes landing on you with surprise, but his expression quickly melted into a smile, “Sonny, huh?”

The two of you had tossed names back and forth for the longest time, coming up with a small list but never quite deciding on a name you both were 100% about. And Sonny wasn’t even on the list, but after seeing Wonwoo with her, you felt 1000% sure about this name. 

You nodded, a sleepy smile coming to your face, “Our little sunshine.”

Wonwoo chuckled, a soft blush coming to his cheeks as he looked back down at the infant in his arms. He walked over to your bed, passing the baby to you before he very gingerly wrapped his warm arms around you both and rested his cheek against your head.

“She does look like a Sonny, doesn’t she?” he asked.

“I think so,” you hummed. “Jeon Sonny sounds nice, too.”

“Sonny it is,” he decided before he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. With his lips still against your head, he mumbled, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” you told him, tilting your head back to smile up at him.

He smiled back before he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Then he looked down at Sonny, still fast asleep.

“And I love you,” he told her, leaving another kiss on her forehead. “My two favorite girls.”

»»————-　　————-««

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#k-labels #wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo au #seventeen au #wonwoo imagine #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo fic #wonwoo series #wonwoo x reader #werewolf!wonwoo #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen fic #seventeen series #seventeen x reader #werewolf!seventeen

[galaxysharks]

dewey and maddox

Yes. This is correct.

Let us image a slightly less grumpy young!Dewey, shall we?

He taught her how to play the bugle.

That is his kid, and any actions against her are delt with swiftly and harshly.

His office has an extra camping cot in it now cause she kept falling asleep in his chair.

She has the only other set of keys to that room.

After a certain point the other Camper just assumes he's actually her dad.

It's why EJ and Val were surprised that Jet and her were siblings.

She gets the using packing tape for wounds from him.

She actually gets most of her survival skills and knowledge from him.

He sort of regrets that cause now she's even more of a leash kid

She knows where he actually lives

She's fixed the A/C.

She gave him the address to her and Jet's apartment, but not her parents.

Dewey is going to be THE LOUDEST MAN at graduation.

He loves Maddox, he's a little iffy on all these damn brothers she keeps finding, real or otherwise. Rocketman's fine, but jury's still out on the other ones

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts maddox #high school musical the musical the series #hsm the series #hsmtmts season 4 #dewey loves his babies #dewey hsmtmts #that is his baby

[hikayunas]

silly hikaru thought; when she sighs, she huffs like a horse -- that classic characteristic heavy horse sigh, especially when she's grumpy or otherwise in a sour mood. maybe juri's getting on her nerves, so she huffs a heavy sigh to make her displeasure obvious. something like that

#magia record #kirari hikaru #i just think it's a silly but sweet mental image #i hope it's obvious what i mean when i say 'huffs like a horse' #horse sighs are so cute. hikaru sighing just like her namesake feels so fitting #her grumpy live2d expression just looks like she's horse-sighing to me #oh i almost forgot #rambles

[rainbowgod666]

Hazbin hotel charachters (or at least the ones i remember) according to me, who has never watched it

Charlie: probably the only normal person in the show

Alastor: someone made a fanart that made me think they had some sort of top surgery scars so now theyre trans🏳️‍⚧️

Lucifer: "i have no idea who i am. Every day i scare myself because i think I saw that darn goggled autist in the mirror. I know for a FACT i have died before, but HE wont let me rest. According to HIM, me and god owe him so much we should surrender heaven and hell to him. I have been unironically killed over 667 times and i KNOW none of them are the last. I have seen him corrupt hell and turn it into a psychedelic SOMETHING that isnt hell anymore. I have seen HIM shrug off Holy Energy like HE got shot with a squirt gun. I saw HIM posess the ones i loved most and turn them into distorted horrors that not even i could come up with- I know im not the only "interpretation of the devil" who has been subject to this... this is why i try to be closer to my dear daughter as much as i can- i KNOW that one day i shall disintegrate into nothingness and "finally shut up" whatever that means. God isnt dead because HE said so. No mind can make hell out of heaven and viceversa except HIS... because he doesnt turn them into neither. Everything Eventually Becomes Entropy. And Then He Turnes It Into Autism So He May Forever Evade Death By Eternally Dying. He made himself judge, jury, and executioner, and the only thing stopping him from actually DOING anything is how overwhelming is the mortal wo-" "dad will you fucking take your meds already or do i have to shove them up your ass"

Vox: they changed heads, and are definetively gay

Loona: WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT TO FUCK HER HOLY SHIT NO WONDER SHES SO GRUMPY

Sir Pentious: i feel like they should get their eggs back. Idk why.

Angel dust: drug addict spider femboy. Also they have been subjected to sexual abuse so ffs MAKE THEM FEEL SAFE

Striker: i know that ass has watched 1980s anime. I just KNOW.

Blitzø (and the rest of the helluva boss team): really funny imps who (through some JJBA part 5 shit) just wanna exist in a literal hellhole

Those cupid-shaped somethings i saw ONCE: ha-ha, "uwu angels are actually the enemies lol" HIDEKI ANNO DIDNT MAKE EVANGELION FOR THIS YOU DESSICATED TESTICLES. Yes I think it may have Actual Meaning but WHO THE FUCK CARES HOLY SHIT NO WONDER GABRIEL HAS BRAIN PROBLEMS FIRST THE CONQUERING OF AMERICA AND THEN THE GAY GOPRO THAT DOES COIN TRICKSHOTS HOLY SHITTING FUCK-

#welcome to the multiverse #hazbin hotel #Lore Post #y'all i was FUCKED around a year ago

[this-daydream-is-dangerous-13]

I'm also staying off social media these days I don't like it when people like him get atention because of her

Totally fair point, Anon.

I am less bothered by that - Blondie willingly lends her celebrity to boost the profile of people around her (am giving bombastic side eye to the gushing insta reel she made for the abysmal Conversations with Friends). If she’s going to have to recalibrate every aspect of her life because of her fame, she might as well use it to help those she cares about.

But there’s a fine line between sharing your fame and feeling like you’re primarily being used for your fame. If I’m being honest, I think that realization is contributing to why our fave green-eyed Englishman is so grumpy these days; there’s an imbalance in that relationship and I bet it’s hard not to feel like his celebrity is the draw not him as a person. Which suuuuucks.

Do I think the same potential exists here? Absolutely. It’s coupled with the sense that Blondie seems like a shiny, elusive trophy to an already decorated athlete who is looking to build his celebrity profile as his athletic career begins to wind down due to age.

I find him so off putting. The only other person in her orbit I ever found this creepy? Scott Borchetta, and that’s because he reminded me of all the gross wannabe Italian guys who glommed on to our family’s Italian community; my Mom immigrated from Italy as a child so has an actual connection to Italy, unlike slimy dudes like Scott.

And when I think of why TK bothers me, it’s because:

- he is enormous, and guys that large make me feel unsafe. In my past, large men have thrown their weight around (physically and metaphorically) trying to intimidate or dominate me and I hate it.

- his physical appearance reminds me of touchy, creepy, unsafe men with very short hair and/or moustaches I have encountered over the years.

- his overall approach to this (which makes my husband want to light shit on fire in rage): let’s relentlessly pursue a human person—in public—until she capitulates because “it would be rude to say no to the invitation”. What a wonderful example to set for creepy, clueless men everywhere, TK. This started with him disregarding her boundary and working all angles to get around it.

- individually he might be ok, but he’s the poster boy for a toxically masculine sport with a history of massive domestic violence issues, and violence issues in general. Some of which are related to brain injuries suffered by the majority of players.

I can speculate about all the reasons why Blondie would find this level of attention appealing. But I don’t want to see any of it. At all.

I know it’s rich, coming from someone who writes about Haylor. But if, say, Jack Antonoff or Aaron Dessner (who know and understand her, and see her at her most vulnerable) set her up with a partner, I would fall in line. This? Is not *that*. And while I loathe Justin Bieber (the rare Canadian I want to disavow), he and Selena really did care about Blondie when they orchestrated Haylor hang outs.

So: is this Hiddleswift 2.0? Jury is out, but it still seems like that, based on the posts from which I am hiding, lol.

[doberbutts]

A week and a half on T:

Significantly reduced menses problems (which btw started over a week early less than a single week into T so there’s that to consider). Cramps significantly more controllable. Able to eat, digest, and poop which is more than I could ever say about anything. On the other hand cramps also lasted two days instead of one which I think is a ripoff, and the length of time I bled was also nearly doubled (always 3 days in the past, this time 5).

Voice doing a lot of weird shit- sometimes it’s normal and other times it’s deeper and other times it’s raspy. Harder to hit high notes but easier to maintain low notes when singing

HUNGRY. I wake up hungry and I am now hungry also for lunch and dinner. And sometimes snack after. It also means sometimes I eat and I’m hungry again like half an hour later. It’s not like a gnawing hunger but it is very present and kind of annoying. High protein snacks are the way to go.

Facial hair on cheeks still patchy and light. Facial hair on lip somewhat darker and longer??? I’ve always sort of wanted a soul patch with a little on the chin as well, which I knooooooooow is a Douchebag Style nowadays but also it makes me very grumpy that yet another Black Thing got co-opted by white people who now have decided it’s bad as that style started in the jazz community (which is why I like it, having grown up with my jazz-loving black dad and black friend of family) which was dominated by black people and now I’m off on a tangent

STINKY. Whewf my deodorant ain’t doing the 48 hour thing it claims to anymore. I’m applying twice a day and still catching a whiff every now and then. I don’t need to shower more because I’m using testosterone gel and am worried about gel transference, I need to shower more because I smell bad lmao

Speaking of smell, while it is... strong... there’s almost a pleasantness to it? My rural roots attribute part of that scent to men who work and labor all day, usually farming or hunting or woodworking or building etc. Smelly, but also kinda nice. I’ve always been of two minds about it when smelling it on partners after, ahem, vigorous activities, because on one hand. Stinky. But on the other hand. Good Scent. Is this what the musk fandom is always on about?

Muscles??? Noticeable muscles??? Not beefcake yet but my Arms Are Thicker. I was able to lift a 45lb bag of dog food for Sushi with little issue where I used to struggle before. I was able to lift Sushi off the ground, something I haven’t been able to do since she got over 85lbs (she’s 99.5 currently), without hurting or straining my back. She jumped into my arms like Creed used to and I caught her on reflex and held her midair and was like wait............. you don’t feel as heavy as you used to did you lose weight?????? And then I weighed her at work and nope she’s still hovering around 100lbs I can just carry that now apparently.

IDK if this is bottom growth necessarily but Stimulation Always is now somewhat of a problem. I’m thinking I will need to buy a new packer soon since my other one finally broke and the sensation of wearing my underwear has been, um, a lot. The prosthetic I buy sort of... cups everything, as it’s made specifically for trans guys with significant bottom growth or metoidioplasty, and that should help prevent unwanted Sensation when I’m trying to not be horny on main.

IDK also if I’m thinking horny thoughts more often but I’m definitely more affected by horny thoughts more often.

Speaking of Sushi she’s been all over me recently but I think she’s about to go into heat and she does turn absurdly affectionate when in heat so jury’s out on whether it’s my hormones or hers making her weird.

More stamina? My body still aches and is sore when I do too much but I worked in my backyard for like three hours yesterday immediately coming off of an 8 mile hike and then cooked and cleaned and was only slightly tired by the end of it. Sore, yes. But not tired.

Better poop??? Is this diet related since I’m eating more often or is this testosterone who knows but I’m appreciating not shitting my brains out all the time because my stomach decided to throw a temper tantrum about one of my meals.

[lowel1]

Random MCD age headcannons 🤓 (these are what I think the characters ages where when they were first introduced)

Laurance- 22. the youngest head guard known, got his title cause of Sasha’s death and his close relationship to her. He’s new to romance and inexperienced, but never had to really try. His looks and title got a lot of attention. Learnt how to fight younger than most, being an orphan requires some level of self defence from young.

Aphmau-24. Mostly cause Jess was around that age when starting mcd. Aphmau is like a teen in many ways but can be quite motherly. Her knowledge is that of a child in some ways as Irene’s slumber caused her to forget a lot of things. She’s a fast learner though so matured quite quickly.

Garroth-26. Left guard Academy quite late (24) and ran away from home straight away. he acts quite old for his ages, many believe he is in his 30’s before they see his face.

Dante- 16. Fresh out of guard school, lack of a family growing up made him childlike, he’s sorta regressed. Think of him like a 13 year old with heighten anxiety, on red bull 24/7.

Katelyn- 26. While the same age of Garroth, she left guard academy at 16. After that, she was shortly recruited into the jury and forced to flee home. The change from a comfortable life in a big family to a big kingdom surrounded by strangers made her adopt an older alias. She lies about her age and acts similar to someone their 30s. She’s actually childish at heart. She lacks a lot of social skills/maturity.

Aaron- 30. Married young, had a child young, was a lord even younger. Never really got to have a childhood or enjoy his teens. While he’s mature he can break from pressure easily but he doesn’t show it. Many considered him to be the youngest lord they know, sadly his lordship didn’t last very long.

Travis- 18. Lost his mother at 14, been fending for himself since. While he has a knowledge in witchcraft rivalled that of a adult warlock he’s still just a child. Enjoys to joke around, play with children, do some make believe. His combat and magic abilities are far ahead his maturity. (And yes he definitely laughs at toilet humour)

Lucinda- 25. A free spirit, many compare her attitudes to that of a teen but her witch craft rivals that of an old witch. She’s has little to no responsibilities, taking life as it goes- many underestimate the experience and power she holds. Witches don’t normally master their crafts till late in there 30’s/early 40’s however Lucinda is already quite close.

Zane- 25. He’s literally a grumpy old man. Never really liked childish things. As soon as he was 18 he started trying to get the high priest role. When the old priest died from “accidental causes” he immediately took the place. Zane was that kid that Zianna always said to “Zuzu why can’t you be like the other kids? You’re so odd.” Been a menace since birth.

Vylad- 16. (He’s dead so he’s technically gonna be 16 forever) his death is what triggered Garroth to run away to guard academy. Zane definitely killed him, probably was snooping around where you shouldn’t of and got smoked. I’m no expert but being dead and stuck in the nether definitely effects a personal maturity (/s).

#aphmau minecraft diaries #aphmau mcd #minecraft diaries #aphmau headcanons #aphmau #aphblr

[marimelwrites]

Closed Starter: @midnightsaboteur Plot: Chloe has become a successful lawyer for some very high profile clients. This has led to various threats that have required her to hire a bodyguard for safety. Colt has been working with her for some time now, and in this case, Chloe finds herself truly needing her bodyguard to protect her.

The entire day had gone just like it should. All of the countless hours that she had put in to this trial had paid off. With the clients that she worked with, there wasn't room for error. Full dedication was necessary, and any potential margin of error needed to be erased before she walked into the courtroom next to her client to fight their corner. Her notes, and any references and evidence that she needed were always organized and categorized meticulously. It was how she'd made a name for herself. She was more than just a pretty face. Chloe was intelligence, hard work, determination, and she could argue circles around anyone. By the time anyone left the stand, she generally had a testimony that backed her case more often than not. Today had been no exception. When the verdict had been read, in favor of her client, she'd congratulated them, and went on her way. Not without some nasty comments made towards her.

Chloe did all the standard and necessary closing work before turning to Colt and breathing out a sigh of relief. "Sorry for yet another long day, but at least it was a winning one?" She asked before grabbing her briefcase and closing the distance towards him. "I don't know about you, but I need some real food. I'll never understand why courthouses never want to have anything for people to eat. Starving the jury, and everyone there just sounds like a recipe for disaster. A whole lot of grumpy people." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "How do burgers sound? I know I'm dressed nice but a giant burger and fries sounds amazing right now. It's on me for putting you through torture every day. Please?" She pouted her lip in an attempt to help plead her case for junk food just in case he wasn't on board.

#midnightsaboteur #ref: colt x chloe #thread: colt x chloe 01 #//no need to meet length #also let me know if anything needs to be changed or if it doesn't work and I can do that for you!

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e4 defending your life (w. adam glass)

possessed car?? we did ghost truck i guess that's different enough. oh, no. ghost car. okay, the splat effects (and sound effects) on the titles - i have been itching to snark about. combining the splat of the ghost car victim and the titles is so goofy

okay. *argh* stop making me mad at you, dean. he was just railing into sam about not telling them about the hallucinations, but now he just lied to sam's face about jewel staite.

DEAN Some kind of ghost? DEAN With a license? License to kill. SAM Seriously?

why are they acting like that's weird. wasn't there a ghost truck that killed people episode already?? are they gonna talk about cassie???? (no)

SAM No. Just dirt. Could be "Christine"-like. DEAN Ugh. Even possessed cars can't do stairs. It's something spectral.

great minds

sam's hair, it's very fluffy and long and feathery, what's going on

DEAN I gave up AA for Lent. SAM We're not Catholic. DEAN Always with the details. AA gives me the jeebs. SAM Wow. Shocker.

so is this gonna be a very special episode where we acknowledge dean's alcoholism? (no)

DEAN Kind of makes you wonder if the guy wasn't drunk when he ran her over. SAM Yeah.

this episode has been full of weird pauses/moments focusing on reactions to things that may or may not have warranted the reaction that happened.

okay so i was like you know there's not a lot of pale red haired covered-in-freckles people in media, being a pale and covered-in-freckles person myself i do tend to notice, so i had to get a screenshot of the hands. my people's hands 😂 though his face does not look freckled in the same way but it's stupid hard to cover with makeup and still look vaguely skin-like... anyway. he's also been in altered carbon lol

altered carbon s1e4 force of evil - teach grant as jimmy desoto

what's going on with grumpy mcgrumperson dean. very special episode where dean learns people can actually grow and change? people like jewel staite and i dunno, sam?? (no)

DEAN Wow. I'd be so interested in that if I ate apples.

you really gonna have dean "pie's #1 fan" winchester say this?

DEAN I'm gonna check the bar. SAM To work or drink? DEAN I haven't decided.

i'm at the very special episode about alcoholism. i'm at the very special episode where dean tries to learn that people can change. i'm at the combination alcoholism and how people can change very special episode.

BARTENDER Love life or job? Two quick doubles, it's something. I'm Mia, by the way. DEAN Well, Mia, that is a complex question. I'm Dean, by the way.

lol. and plausible deniability

oh he's grumpy because he killed jewel when he told sam he wouldn't and that he trusted sam? because you should feel bad about the lying. and the not trusting.

BOBBY They identify the God Osiris. Real authoritarian type. He gets ahold of you, he's judge, jury, and executioner. Lore says that he can see directly into the human heart. He weighs the guilt. If he finds more than a feather's worth – boom, you're done.

weighing guilt, great. clear consciences all around.

DEAN It's been a while. But you owe yourself. It's nothing but a ground ball – you just got to put your mitt down. You are Dean Winchester. This is what you do.

hyping himself up for his hookup? kind of assumed that was still happening off camera.

aw, he's "sammy" in dean's phone

OSIRIS You and that waitress had quite a talk, huh? Get a couple drinks in you, and the guilt comes pouring out.

course it was too much of a real interaction to be anything other than a little plot device. this dude's voice/accent was very familiar, and aha.

the magicians s3e1 the tales of the seven keys - faran tahir as the great cock of the darkling woods

haha lawyer!sam what au fic is this

SAM Witness is being called without prior notice. DEAN Good one. SAM I saw that on "The Good Wife."

this is a weird episode. tone and message keeps bopping around.

SAM So why'd you start? To impress some loudmouth ass you just met... Or 'cause you wanted to be like your dad? JO Daddy issues. Definitely.

dean looking hurt/embarrassed about being called a loudmouth ass, hum. and same jo, same.

OSIRIS But were you or were you not happily out of the family racket until Dean showed back up in that gas guzzler? Ah-ah. The truth, now.

you know i like to talk about the money they have to spend to keep the impala fueled

OSIRIS But don't you think that your brother dragged you back into that catastrophic mess because he'd rather damn you with him than be alone?

okay but all that and dean i guess REALLY feels guilty about is killing jewel staite. not the torturing people in hell thing. or a million other things. so don't feel guilty that that's what made you guilty, dean -_- was inevitable

login successful!

DEAN You were a kid. JO Not true. DEAN You and Sam. I just – you know, hunters are never kids. I never was. I didn't even stop to think about it. JO It's not your fault. It wasn't on you. DEAN No, but I didn't want to do it alone.

okay. no longer at the combination alcoholism and people can actually change very special episode. we're at the dean should not feel guilty for getting sam and jo into hunting very special episode? (eh?)

been a tick since their last scenic drink and chat date

SAM Look, I don't know what to tell you, Dean. I mean, I've spent a lot of time feeling pretty crappy – like, my whole life. DEAN What, you got a secret stash of happy pills? SAM Hell. SAM Look, I'm not saying it's logical. I just... you know, I feel like I did a lot of stuff I should have felt bad for, and then I paid a lot of dues and came out the other side, you know?

DEAN Well, I don't know whether to be, uh, jealous or weirded out. SAM You'll get used to it. I mean, I don't want to sound lame, but... I kind of feel good, Dean.

shut your mouth, sam, you know that's just asking for it. happiness is not allowed on this show. is this just denial though. foreshadowing something awful works all around

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 7x04 #adam glass #spnhiky #hiky #the magicians #faran tahir #amy pond #jewel staite #teach grant

[marshmallowprotection]

Sometimes I wonder if V is a good cook. Or if he would be a good cook.

I imagine he would try to turn any cooking process into a small art project, especially if it's for MC (he likes to surprise her). But because of him carrying away during the process and his lack of experience the food initially doesn't turn out the way he wants. And he would get grumpy and sad, he would have this pout on his face, but MC would appreciate his cooking despite V thinking it turned out bad (like artists do often, he can be very hard on himself).

See, we have no idea about that! It wasn't something that he had to worry about growing up. He had the same privilege as his best friend. They were well taken care of and they never had to worry about taking care of themselves. They have the money to take care of things. That doesn't mean it's not a skill that they don't have. It just means it wasn’t often necessary for him. 

We know very well that Jumin can make a mean pancake. So, V knows how to take care of himself! He knows the basics and what needs to be done to eat the things he wants. He's been living alone for a long time so it's obvious he knows how to take care of himself. He has to know the steps since the plan for taking care of the twins was always to avoid public light and stay in their home in the mountains as long as possible.

We just don't know if anything he knows how to make is delicious or not. Like, it might meet all the necessary requirements but it may not taste good. The jury is out on that. You can make something that can sustain you but that doesn't mean that it tastes good. He does seem like the kind of person who would spend an awfully long time trying to make something look pretty as opposed to making it taste good. Artists, man.

Compliment his hard work, though. He put a lot of thought into the moving parts and wanted to impress you. He wants to show that he’s taking the steps to work on the things he wants to get better at. But, the baby steps to get there take a bit of extra time and care to get him there. He needs to welcome the mess if it helps his process instead of nit-picking himself.

#ask #anon #mod kait #jihyun kim

[artsyjesseblue]

“When you all took one of the transports, you said, and I quote “None of the Alteans in the colony would know how to fly one, even if we desired to.”

“That is correct,” she replied.

“Yet your brother Bandor, who had allegedly just escaped from these so-called ‘Quintessence extraction pods’, knew how to fly one,” Saber Rider drew closer to her, leaning against the jury box railing, arms crossed in an inquisitive posture.

Romelle jumped like an angry yalmore. “What are you implying?!”

“Objection! Objection!!” the green-eyed prosecutor landed trembling fists on his table.

“Where is this sentence going, Mr Saber Rider?…” the big magistrate lady gave him a grumpy look. She ought nothing else but to sustain the objection, but the curiosity had already gone too far out.

“What I mean to reflect, Honorables, is that Bandor somehow knew how to pilot a transport shuttle. If the Alteans on the moon colony were solely used as sources of Quintessence, how did they know how to fly, since they had never practiced on the mother colony? I am sincerely telling you this as an experienced pilot, who still remembers the struggles I had as a young cadet, learning the first basic instructions. This is not something you learn overnight, and if he’d just stolen it without ever knowing how to operate one, I guarantee you, he would have never reached the main planet with such precision, not to mention - in his sister’s proximity. And given the fact that he was almost depleted of his life energy, by what miracle did a completely inexperienced, near-death pilot manage to arrive at his destination?”

Silence laid like a heavy blanket over the court chamber. The jury members blinked with perplexed eyes.

Smoldering gold slashes focused on her, as she squirmed in her witness chair.

Romelle regained her voice after a moment’s pondering. “I - I don’t know, maybe Lotor can explain this to us, since he kept all of us in the dark for so long!” she dropped the etiquette as she gnashed her teeth.

“Oh, he will, I promise you that,” Saber Rider calmly nodded, to her growing resentment.

_______________

Nothing Ever Truly Goes Extinct - New Chapters

(late post; trying my hand at courtroom sketching)

Read on AO3: Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

Voltron Legendary Defender - Lotura Fanfic

Rating: Teen and up

Main tags: Lotura, Plance, Sheith

#lotura fanfic #voltron fanfic #romelle #voltron #lotor #nothing ever truly goes extinct #jesseblue writes

[fereldanwench]

So we've made a lot of in-game progress since the last little update I made on my random Valerie-inspired playthrough of Dragon Age Inquisition:

The big story advancement was choosing between the templars and mages to close the Breach. I still have no idea where Valerie really stands on magic, the Chantry, etc., so I opted to go for my personal favorite route: disbanding the Templar Order and bringing them under the Inquisition. I just really like Ser Barris (a good man who has mistakenly given his life to a shitty institution and is now coming to terms with it? Why yes, I do have a type, thanks for asking) and The Champions of the Just is prrooobably my favorite quest in the whole game because it's one of the only quests across the entire series that really gives us a good glimpse into the secret life of templars, so to speak. Like we get to see a lot of what life is like behind closed Circle doors for mages in all the games (especially if you play as a mage in Origins), but not so much the templars. Even in DA2, where you do have more access to templars, it's still mostly their public-facing arenas, like the Gallows courtyard. And the way Barris describes how the Order slowly introduced red lyrium into the ranks is horrifying on so many levels. (Also, it always fucks me up that the fully corrupted templars don't die as human enemies, but as creatures.)

This means Valerie met Cole! She also met Dorian since she did talk to Fiona before going with the Templars, and if I recall correctly, he's gonna be pretty pissed that she went with the Templars, whoops. First impressions: Cole: ???? Does not compute. But she's pragmatic and he helped her so he can stay for now. Dorian: Far too pleased with himself, but he's obviously brilliant so at least it's not without cause.

Jury is still out if I'm actually going to romance anyone in this run--Leaning towards no, but Valerie is a bit of a flirt by nature and a heartbreaker in Cyberpunk canon so I have had her up the charm with a few characters: Blackwall: Serious, hardened warrior too committed to his duty and with a manbun (he's modded in my game) certainly meets some of her requirements, and his delighted response when she told him he's better suited to getting eaten by a dragon is fun for everyone. But he's a little too enamored with her too fast and he's not honest. Verdict: Needs less simping, less lying, and more biting sarcasm. Cullen: Flirting with him was more for old times sake and because I wanted to see the cute smile the Inquisitor makes when they say they're willing to listen to his lectures. But Valerie in a lot of ways is sort of a spiritual successor to my favorite Hawke, Rhiannon, whomst I shipped hard with Cullen so there is something there. Cullen also fits the decent-man-coming-to-terms-with-serving-a-corrupt-organization archetype. I think he's just slightly on the wrong side of priggish and dorky for her, though. But perhaps most importantly: I don't want to romance him again, lmao. Verdict: Get wrecked, nerd. Cassandra: I don't currently have a mod installed to romance her as a femInquisitor, so I would have to grab on in order to make this happen obviously. But I think Cassandra actually has the highest potential here: grumpy, stubborn, impulsive warrior trying to stick to a righteous path even if she's full of doubts? With a secret soft side?? I mean, come on. That's perfect. Verdict: Modding magic vs Wench's laziness: Who will win?

I want to grind a little bit more before actually closing the Breach (and dying from cringe at that goddamn singalong scene) so I've been chipping away at various quests in the Storm Coast, Hinterlands, and Fallow Mire. I remember really disliking the Fallow Mire when I first played, mostly because of the undead popping up everywhere, but I'm actually finding it far less of a slog than the other two maps this time around. Like a fairly small map that I can actually clear without huge expanses of emptiness that are just there to make the game seem bigger? Yes, please.

#oc: valerie v powell #g: dai #s: dragon age #au: thedas adventures #oc snippets

[landosfishbowl]

BUG BITES

I was a child when I fell of my bike – as many children do. You’d think it’d be a funny memory to have, but I’m not as fond of that memory as some may think. That crash killed me. I was only ten years old. I told my mom I’d be back in fifteen minutes, is was “gonna try out my new bike” that I had got for my birthday. It was the nicest bike that I could’ve gotten at that time. It had strong frame, some grippy tires, technically advance shocks, and it was blue! It had all the gimmicks of something could jump across the mountains. I was so excited that I took to the roads without thinking twice. The bike was amazing. I hadn’t been that happy as a kid since I got my first knife from my grandpa. That was a nice day –

I was nine years old, it was a damp summer’s day. I was dropped off at my grandparents house for the day. My mom had jury duty and I wasn’t able to go. I stood on the porch with my grandma as my mom drove away. It was only a few seconds, but I already missed my mom. I think my grandma felt my youthful angst, so she knelt down and said, “Hey Buzz…” Buzz was my nickname from my grandparents who had bees, and a special someone thought they could pet the bees by ‘blending in’ and making a buzz sound – nicknames always come from someplace humiliating. Anyway,

“… how about you go help your grandpa out. He’s cleaning up the garden and could use some help, especially from a big strong boy like you!”

“I am a strong boy!” I said. Now distracted, I ran as fast as I could to my grandpa. I turned the corner of the house, and there was my grandpa by a somewhat messy garden. “Grandpa!” I shouted.

“Buzz, my grandson, how are you?” he said with his slight southern Mexican accent.

I completely ignored his question and when straight to the point: “I’m here to help!”

My grandpa just smiled and understood. “Well, I got a lot of weeds and old plants that need trimming, could you help me with that?”

I nodded yes.

“Perfect! You could start over there by pulling the weeds for me. You’ll need some gloves so you don’t get poked.” grandpa threw me a pair of gloves, then smiled. “Alright, get to work! We got till lunch!”

I laughed – felt important. I ran over to the other side of the garden and got to work. I started pulling some small dandelions, then after some time, onto the bigger ones. I found a huge poky weed, I had my gloves so I knew it would hurt. But right as I was grabbing the big weed, I felt a burning, itching feeling on my arm. Then with a wave of horror, I saw a spider scuddling away from the root of the weed. I began to scream my little lungs out. I ran over to my grandpa and continued to explain to him how I thought I was dying. “I’M GONNA DIE! I WAS BIT BY A SPIDER! MY ARM! I – I’M SCARED!” My grandpa got down to my level and grabbed my arm and took a quick look, looked at me:

“Uh oh… this looks bad.” bad decision, I started screaming so hard it wasn’t even loud. “Hey hey! I’m just kiddin’! Look Buzz…” grandpa pointed at my arm. A couple fire ants were crawling on my arm. “… It wasn’t a spider, only a couple of grumpy ants. You probably didn’t feel them crawling up your arm because of those gloves I bet.” my grandpa was diffidently holding back some well deserved laughs. “You’re going to be just fine.”

My grandma poked her head out from the back porch, “Everything okay?”

“Yup, just some pesky ants. Buzz took it like a champ, he’s a strong boy,” my grandpa said as he patted my head. I guess the wiping of tears told my grandpa that it was time for a distraction. He reached into his back pocket and said, “Hey, Buzz…” I looked up at him, “… I got a surprise for you, put your hand out.” still in shock, but with the taunting of a possible gift, I put my hands out. My grandpa put his folding pocket knife in the palms of my hands. I didn’t know what it was at first, until my grandpa took it, then opened it, “I think you’re old enough for this now. You have to be careful with this, but you’re a big boy, I think you can handle it.” he put the knife back into my hand, and I smiled. I felt just like one of the big boys. “How about you use that to cut down some of those old plants for me? I think that knife will work great in the hands of samurai master.” my grandpa smirked.

Without a moment to think twice, and a sniffle, I cheered up and said, “Okay!” and I imminently went to work. I’m strong, my grandpa said so.

I was pedaling extra fast, just to test all the gears on my new bike. I could feel the chilled wind on my whole body – it felt like I was Lightning McQueen. I was just going around my neighborhood. I past my friend Johnny's house, then I saw the mail-lady, then I pasted my favorite park. The leaves sound like a running river, the car tires on the asphalt roads sound like a warm breeze full, a crow caws. It’s all going too fast. I was hit by a car. Nobody saw it coming. I saw dark before anything I could even feel the pain. Crazy how life can catch up to me when I was at my fastest. I saw my young body lifeless just in front of the car. I was bloody. I honestly don’t feel any way, I was just done, floating away from where I once was. I wont be home tonight, but at least I felt happy. I know I was strong. In someway.

#philosophy #short story

[freedomfireflies]

100% grumpy/sunshine and she’s human!

Maybe he has to come into the human world as some kind of punishment? Like he gets sent here because he pissed someone off and has only have heard bad things about humans and so hates all of them but has some kind of job to do here? Or it’s like his world’s version of jury duty and most of them have to go at some point but he thinks he’s gotten away with it they older he gets but then gets the call. I don’t know this is probably stupid haha

But then he ends up meeting her and she’s not at all like the stories he’s heard and he’s drawn to her and isn’t sure why?? And when he first gets here he’s like I’m just gonna get in and do the thing and get it over with and get home but then he meets her and wants to spend more and more time with her and he keeps putting whatever he’s here for off until they’re like seriously what’s taking so long?? Then maybe there’s some angst around him having to go back to his world after they fall for each other but we definitely need some kind of happy ending!!

Or do they coexist with humans and hide their wings/powers/whatever it is they can do?? I literally have no idea what I’m talking about!! The only fantasy I read is a/b/o so I have no clue when it comes to anything else but I definitely think you should write this because you’d do such a good job of it and I know it would instantly become a fave of mine!!

UM.........HELLO??? I LOVE THIS??

This is not stupid at ALL I am fully obsessed with this plot idea!!!! Which would totally explain why he's so grouchy and doesn't want to be around her except JUST KIDDING he does and he doesn't even know why but maybe he keeps delaying the thing he's supposed to do just so he can keep hanging out and his "bosses" or whoever are getting kind of pissed and eheheh THE IDEAS ARE ENDLESS!!!

Oh the angst would be sooooo angsty but I agree we would have a happy ending!!! But imagine him leaving and they just have this really tearful goodbye and he doesn't want to and UGH!!! 🥹