Tumgik
#oh wait is a borderline thing nvm lol
bunny-grunt · 1 year
Text
Bleh i have a lot of feelings
2 notes · View notes
lacunasbalustrade · 5 months
Text
notes whilst writing this insufferable idol lyric docs fic
mon. 4. dec.
<the movie director’s/ designated writer for friendgroup’s thought process>
voracious jewellery collector tries to rob cute jewellery shop owner of their rings and force them to bend the knee: villainous ohohoho (jk lol)
Tumblr media
thus the K-pop 白痴 (knows zero about K-pop) attempts to write a fic about lyric docs- what can I say I love nothing better than a challenge (borderline masochistic suspicions)
line break because this is going to be long u have been warned. this is gonna be a journal for me ignoring the fact that tumblr itself is a journal
someone is going to know my suffering at stumbling headfirst into this world of idols. likely Kyoya. but i may change my mind
where the hell are those screenshots where mio and i discussed this. if you can’t tell already I’m one of those ridiculous ppl who needs the whole guidebook of encyclopaedic references to write.
went back the entire six months worth of conversations and finally found it, cringing at my every message like my dear God intended
I’m keeping all the lyric doc tabs open so I can read whilst i write
okay not Kyoya he’s into this too much
Rouga you’re my everything you’re my soul you’re just as dead as i am about this ‘what if we just go with disaster’
don’t get me wrong I’m enjoying this I’m just the kind of person to complain about everything and bitch all the way through only to appear with a shiny smile at the end of it
that is to say i like the steep learning curve but i also like to keep myself aware of how much I’m doing so i get to laugh at myself when i say ‘no problems’ later on
what do you call that character type
nvm back to writing
we’re starting this with a voiceover because i say so. draft here “future card buddyfight is a game that connects to parallel universes and allows monsters and humans to become buddies. in the wake of global events that have shattered his reputation, Gaen Kyoya decides to restart his cult by starting an (apparently) harmless idol management agency. By traveling to other worlds on a universal tour, will his newly formed idol groups be able to compete with the local talent? Will Gaen Kyoya be able to regain his reputation as a heartthrob? Most importantly, will the press-ganged idols ever get to play Buddyfight again? an earth-shattering screech is heard from the Gaen Tower. “Daddy always told me I’d be a star!”
Gaen Kyoya gives Shido Magoroku a strained smile. He’s in it to win it whatever the game. It’s too late to back out now, although he absolutely regrets - regrets, not deserves this.
rouga is doing the voiceover. this is disaster, the world tour movie. we’re gonna keep that secret till the end of the fic. (publishes this draft instantly and fails to keep any secret) whatever movies are announced anyway and it’s more fun to hype this up.
tasuku is not in an idol group as far as i have surmised from a quick scan- over. so he’s just going to show up to every performance and laugh at them. bro finally got to catch a break (and a good laugh)
wait ILL MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ITS ENDED AND THEN FLASHBACK TO ACE IDOL GROUPS AND BE LIKE - YOU THOUGHT, SUCKER, ITS NOT OVER YET!!!!
ah. I’m publishing this draft later. Should i just delete number 15 for my reputation?
nahhhhh.
if you couldn’t tell already I’m writing this as i go so this thought process is in chronological order
i already know I’m never going to read this again this guidebook to the movie director’s thought process comes at the cost of my dignity
who am i kidding i have no such thing called dignity (meow)
this is my reference draft so I’m going to drop the cropped screenshots here for ease of rememberance
Tumblr media Tumblr media
note: is polery a thing??? anyways
Tumblr media Tumblr media
oh my gosh. mio u really changed two names because i liked certain options better. i love you.
I’ve become softer because now I find the options for band names I like are different (reverie, paradoxus, wishing star and hikari to tomo ni) which really makes me want to break down.
I am in a better place, a quieter place, and it shows. (charting my own growth like a parent checking their child’s height against markings on the wall)
22. there are basically two bands from first season can i really stretch the whole fic out and really make it seem like it ended with just that
23. who am I kidding I’ll be lucky if i can even stretch the fic out my highest amount of words so far is 3000 I haven’t even finished my long fic for Tasuku yet (hellooooo, my dearest procrastination)
24. in conclusion let’s just run with it. i wanna have it out in time for mio’s bday i have like a month and a day.
25. Tasuku is in the idol list. my memory be like sand flowing away with the tide
26. anyways
27. how’s that’s supposed to work
28. like i believe i could spout some nonsense about Kyoya. bribing everyone. because what good are riches except for yknow bribing people to become idols.
29. what ifff he saved a record of disaster’s ridiculous meetings and said with a straight face and smile as usual - “we’ll all sink on this ship, my friends”
30. basically blackmail. hmmm
31. i will find out when i start writing! (conclusion)
32. at first i was going to read fics to find out more about the idol industry but all the fics are au fics so that’s a bust
33. instead i am waving to chat gpt so if there’s any inaccuracy go blame Elon Musk like we do for everything under the sun
34. did Elon Musk even make chat gpt
35. I don’t care anymore that’s not relevant
work in progress for obvious reasons. will update this stupid post.
Tumblr media
the relevant tags: note to self
also a line to your friend that kinda hit me when I was browsing by the posts to find those relevant tags:
“it’s now kinda buried under 200+ songs in my playlist, but when it plays, I never skip it.”
(italics at my own risk)
21 notes · View notes
oshitgirlie · 2 years
Text
*ties you to a chair* yes, you, dearest mutual, i am going to force you to listen to my 2 original singaporean-setting stories i've kept in my head for a year now <3
dip into the water
first episode starts with a boy waking up from a nightmare, and he calms himself down before going back to sleep, unaware of the black figure standing behind his bed.
when he goes to school and enters his class, everyone looks at him with sympathetic eyes and he takes note of the only empty table in the class. there is a bouquet of white chrysanthemums on the table. the boy does not remember who sits at the table.
after school, he heads over to his therapist that his mum told him to go to. the therapist asks him general questions, and he answers them without difficulty.
the last question is something he cannot answer. the therapist takes out a photo of a girl around his age and asks, "do you remember who she is?"
the boy does not. the therapist has a sad look on her face and continues.
"this is jieqi. she is your best friend. and a week ago... she died in a car crash."
general summary of the plot:
so basically the boy goes on a journey, with the help of his therapist and jieqi's close ones, to remember his best friend again. yay
the boy was so shocked by the announcement of jieqi's passing that he forgot about her entire existence due to excessive trauma
yeah so basically lots of platonic love, angst, hurt comfort, and tears, might also include mentions of abuse (not from jieqi or the boy)
this is kind of a difficult story to write bc i have to really do research about how trauma works + abuse + how therapy really works to avoid stereotypes
and heyy i'm feiyue, can i keep a series up? no lol
2. a song for you
the protagonist, kaiwen, lives in a hdb flat, and every night, melodious piano music comes from the flat right opposite hers. it's the one thing she looks forward to every night: going over to the room closest to that flat at 9pm just to hear the mysterious pianist play a couple songs to bless her ears.
kaiwen is a guitar player (nooo shhh this totally isn't me projecting) and is somewhat decent at music theory.
her seatmate, ruping, comes from an average family and is a top scorer, but is also an incredibly nice guy. he plays the piano and involves himself in a lot of sports. kaiwen is implied to have a crush on ruping.
somewhere further down the story, kaiwen finally gets the balls to visit the apartment of the mysterious pianist, wanting to thank them for the beautiful music. and the mysterious pianist turns out to be........... an old lady?!
oh wait nvm that's the pianist's grandmother, and the flat isn't actually the pianist's house (she just stays at her grandma's house very often) and the actual pianist is a beautiful girl around kaiwen wow!!!!!!!!!!
kaiwen gets bi panic. hip hip hooray
the pianist, qianhui, comes from a rich family with parents who have extremely high expectations of her. she can play many, many instruments and is best at violin, but she likes the piano more
i'm not actually sure how the story is supposed to go but uhh basically the relationship between kaiwen and ruping is supposed to go from classmates -> friends -> borderline dating
qianhui is supposed to eventually stand up against her parents who push her too much, expecting overly high results from her academics and music studies.
qianhui is also implied to have a crush on kaiwen, for being the one to inspire her to be free and stand up against her parents. the story will focus on qianhui's character growth rather than her pursuing kaiwen
now this story! hooboy i'm not the best at music theory so i definitely have to do research and self study
uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. lol (silently pleads for feedback even though im probably never gonna publish these stories)
2 notes · View notes
letsperaltiago · 4 years
Text
a calm surrender to the rush of day
Jake’s had a few too many beers when he’s sent back home to Amy and his still relatively new son. It’s all good and cute, promise. Peak domestic Peraltiago. This oneshot is based on a prompt on this list.
#98: "I think we should have another"
Read on AO3 here
Amy was fast asleep in their bedroom when the sudden sound of the front door lock clicking and shifting followed by a half-hearted slam jolted her awake. For a very brief second, with her heart galloping in her chest as a result of the shock, Amy was utterly disoriented and the uneasy feeling was definitely not peculiar when you happened to live in a city that was ranked way too high on the Top 10 Most Dangerous Cities in America – a club she did not particularly enjoy being a part of. Although, as fast as it had encased her body to begin with, the shock quickly wore off the second she heard shifting and rumbling paired with a “shit” coming from what she figured out must’ve been the living room.
Jake, she realized, suddenly remembering why he wasn’t currently beside her in bed but rather out with some friends from the academy – or, at least, was.
In an attempt to put the final puzzle pieces in place she leaned over to grab her phone wondering how long he’d out and about for. The time revealed itself across her lock screen picture of Jake, fast asleep on their couch a few days after their son’s arrival with said son resting beneath his hands and on his chest. 3:11 AM – no wonder why she could barely keep her eyes open. There was a second of wondering if she should just turn over, go back to sleep and let Jake come join her whenever he was ready, but something else on the screen caught her eye before she could ultimately decide on doing so: 3 texts from Rosa with the last being from around 30 minutes prior.
Rosa Diaz – 12:39 PM Dude, Jake is horrible. He won’t shut up about you and the baby and for some reason the other guys from the academy seem to be eating it up. I hate it. What have you done to him?
Rosa Diaz – 1:56 AM Nvm. I take it back. He just paid a second round of beers to celebrate, and I quote, “His miracle baby”. Please get pregnant more. Means more free booze.
Rosa Diaz – 2:47 AM Def spoke too soon. He just threw up at my feet. We’re waiting outside the bar for his cab. I’m sending him home to you. Texts me when he gets there. Also: good luck lol. He’s stupid drunk.
Almost as if Jake had read the text as well, as to emphasize its point, Amy could hear him stumble into the bathroom across the hall to, what she chose to believe, grab his toothbrush but instead knocking over the glass holding it generating a loud commotion which tore throughout the entire apartment.
Amy’s head immediately as per instinct shot in the direction of her 3-month old’s crib, which stood against the wall on her side just a few feet away. Apart from the limited amount of Catholic traditions she’d grown up with living with her parents she wasn’t particularly religious, but right then and there she internally prayed that her son, who she’d spent an hour getting back to sleep just 3 hours ago, wasn’t woken up by her father’s drunken circus. She held her breath as a few, way too long seconds went by: no cry. Amy’s chest dropped in relief.
Moments like these were tiny victories that she as a brand new first-time mom held onto for dear life. In general, though she had nothing to compare to, her little boy wasn’t a particularly difficult baby but the past few days had been a bit rough on the little family: rough to the point where Amy had to push Jake out the door earlier that evening because he didn’t want to leave her behind with a fussy baby. But, more than ever before, Amy was confident, telling him it would be a waste for him to stay home and miss out on some fun; he should go out and she’d be fine. He’d ended up going. Although it was borderline against his will with half-worried eyes that Jake had crossed the threshold to exit their apartment, while repeating over and over again that she could and should call him if things turned out to be too much: he’d grab the first cab he saw back home.
Amy loved this considerate and worried side of Jake but it also turned out to be quiet unnecessary that night. Besides the hour from hell of fussiness at midnight, the evening alone with her son had gone by pretty smoothly – she’d actually made quite an enjoyable experience out of it. First of all, right after he’d had left, Amy ate the dinner Jake had prepared for her in advance on the couch with Flynn lying next to her in his little nest, talking and admiring his small sounds and smiles. God, she loved him so much and there was no TV-show or movie in the world that could beat the incredible sight of her son clumsily waving around his tiny legs and arms in his green pajama-onesie. Then, after bathing and changing him, she’d fed him to make sure he was completely ready for bed and by 8 PM she was silently smiling down at, admiring, her very own tiny sleeping human as he dozed off in his crib. Losing track of time was incredibly easy these days, both from the lack of sleep but also the huge amount of love for said little human, but after making sure (for the 32nd time) that Flynn was well asleep Amy had, trusty baby monitor in hand, retreated to the living room. There, with a tiny glass of white wine in hand, she’d managed to finish today’s The Times’ crossword puzzle - something Flynn had interrupted a couple of times that day – before she’d felt an inevitable wave of tiredness creep up on her. Once ready, having gone through her own routine plus checking up on the, to her pride and joy, still sleeping baby, Amy went to bed where she’d slept peacefully until her son had claimed her attention a few hours later. So even though Jake was her favorite person to hang out with, her evening had been great and, all in all, she wouldn’t mind doing it again  
Now here she was once again awake although this time it was not her baby causing the distraction from sleeping but rather her apparently very drunk husband stumbling around the bathroom. The fact that he hadn’t been loud enough to wake up their son had probably (for sure) helped, but also, Amy couldn’t be mad at Jake when she’d been the one to basically force him to go out and have fun. So, after giving up on falling back asleep figuring it’d be hopeless with Jake stumbling around the apartment, she instead took matters into her own hands and made her way to the bathroom. Here, to her amusement, the sight of her rather nicely dressed husband, unruly curls spilling onto his forehead, was barely able to stay awake and standing upright while brushing his teeth.
“Hey there,” she leaned her hip against the door frame before crossing her arms in front of her chest adding to it a teasing smile.
“Oh god!” from the way he almost choked on his tooth brush, Jake was obviously startled by her sudden appearance but quickly avoided choking with a sad attempt at smooth recovery by clumsily spitting the toothpaste into the sink getting it all over his lips in the process.  “I’m szo szo szorry,” the words tumbled from his mouth much like she imagined he’d tripped and fallen over various furniture and items on his way into the apartment just a few moments ago. “Dridn’t mean tro wake you.”
“Well…” she shrugged nonchalantly not really minding mostly because drunk Jake was a hilarious mess she’d missed during their pregnancy, but also partly because she knew he’d be paying the painful price in the morning. “You did.”
Immediately, as if he was a puppy whose tail had just accidentally been stepped on, Jake’s previously insouciant demeanor switched into a intoxicated version of his famous worried frown. Though the second she could tell panic was forming in his drunkenly fatigued eyes, she was quick to step in and avoid guilting him.
“But it’s okay,” her tired but nonetheless somehow always warm eyes worked their best to comfort him, hip nudging her off the doorframe and into a short journey to where her husband had shifted into a leaning position with his back against the sink, toothbrush desperately hanging from the left side of his mouth. His eyes, though dazed and barely able to stay open, followed her every move towards him closely but he was still startled when she’d come close enough for him to feel her breath on him and had sassily snagged the dangling toothbrush out of his mouth (careful to not hurt him in the process, of course).  
“As long as you don’t wake up your son,” she raised an eyebrow daringly only to be met by a shocked expression that told her he still wasn’t entirely over that bold toothbrush-move of hers, and was just barely managing to listen to what she was saying solely because of the mention of Flynn. He knew that the baby was an angel (duh, he was his and Amy’s creation) yet Jake was also very much in touch with reality which was that said son also hadn’t managed to sleep through the night yet (which according to his go-to parenting book Cry Hard was normal). Therefor even drunk Jake also knew that every second his son was asleep was to be handled as carefully as you would a bomb, and the mention of him possibly waking him up was enough to sober him up – or at the very least have him feel like it for a second.
“Luckily,” Amy proceeded, placing her hands on his chest before sliding them up to rest on his shoulders, “you didn’t.”
Paired with a heavy sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath in suspense, she instantly felt his shoulders drop in relief. Needless to say that Amy loved the way her husband cared greatly about his new father-role. Sometimes to the point where Jake, very unnecessarily, would push himself down an endless rabbit hole of doubt, where he, Amy had come to find out relatively early on, could only be calmed down by her ordering him to go lie down and so she could place tiny Flynn on his (incredible) father’s chest. Only then, with his son looking up at him with curious brown eyes or even just being fast asleep, Jake could feel his heart rate slow down significantly and the anxiety fade. His son was here on his chest, tiny heartbeat against his big one and they were both okay. It was love and that was all that mattered.
So yes, Jake’s father-role was very important to both him and her, but for tonight, Amy quickly decided, Jake was allowed to be just drunk-Jake. She had no problem taking full responsibility for Flynn-duty that night, and, even though neither of them kept scores or cared about the unspoken tally, she also knew Jake would make it up to her another night.
“So Flynni iz ztill azleep?” Jake whispered loudly not actually managing to control his voice as intended. His sluggish, wondering eyes reminded Amy of the look on her milk-drunk 3-month old’s face right after a feeding which made it even more obvious that Flynn Peralta was very much her father’s son and would grow up to be an exact copy.  
“Yes, Flynni,” she giggled emphasizing the nickname her husband had come up with, “is still very much asleep. But he won’t be for much longer if you don’t quiet down,” her hands slid up Jake’s neck to cradle his jaw, his tooth brush still in her hand.
“Zorry,” he smiled sheepishly actually managing to whisper this time. “You’re ze bestest mom in ze attire world, Amy Zantriago.”
“Hm,” she squinted her eyes jokingly, “maybe I should just put back that tooth brush because now you’re just talking crazy.”
“Nooo,” the whine that escaped her husband was childish as he simultaneously pulled her in for a clumsy, giggly kiss that’d cover her mouth in his toothpaste remains – unsurprisingly, drunk-Jake was not a very precise tooth brusher and had a toddler’s amount of basic skills. “Ze only crayzay here is me. Crayazay ‘bout my WIFE!” unable to control himself he half-yelled out the last word causing Amy to make a quick decision and shove the toothbrush back into his mouth. This, besides yet another surprised and confused expression greeting her, seemed to work and would hopefully keep him quiet till he made it to bed where he could pass out.
“Hush, Peralta,” and he immediately did. He knew his always very convincing wife only had good intentions (which making sure their son stayed asleep ultimately was) and whilst she picked up where he’d left of to finish brushing his teeth for him he, like the inner toddler the alcohol ignited in him, stayed put against the sink.
A few minutes later, still managing to stay somewhat silent (apart from constantly trying to whisper sweet nothings and stupidities into her ear meanwhile she struggled to brush his teeth and wash his face) Amy lead Jake to their bedroom which, for once, was for unsexy reasonz (with a z, yes). Immediately as soon as it was within what his drunk brain considered a safe distance, Jake’s body caved and dropped to the soft welcoming surface of their bed. Amy quickly figured that it was probably for the best and she should take advantage of Jake finally staying still, meaning she carefully started undressing him, and it had seemed that he was passed out right up until she popped the third button of his flannel and his eyes shot open along with a sneaky smirk.
“Amez, Iz tonight zhe night that we become PILFs?”
Amy frowned as she reached the last button and then pushed the flannel off of his torso. “PILFs?” She wordlessly prompted him to sit up as to allow her to remove the flannel entirely only to be followed by his undershirt being lifted off via his head – something she’d done a million times before but most cases being for other reasons.
“Parentz I’d Like To Frick,” he smiled in appreciation at his own genius invention before stealing a kiss when Amy happened to be close enough to reach by simply leaning in a bit. It did earn him a small giggle like he wished but then also a light shove back.
“Stop that and help me instead, would you?” She was far from mad at him which he could tell from the way she couldn’t keep an entirely straight face but on the other side of things Amy clearly wasn’t having the easiest time undressing her full grown husband either. Suddenly the task that was changing Flynn 7 times a day was put into a quite interesting perspective: a perspective she didn’t necessarily need.
And so, feeling that his wife was doing all the hard work, he helped. It might’ve taken him 5 minutes to pop open and zip down his jeans, but he succeeded and it was with way too much pride that he kicked his jeans off in a madman-ninja manner which resulted in them flying across the room to touchdown by the door. Normally Amy would demand he put them in the laundry bin but for once she couldn’t care less. The pants being off itself was a great victory.
“Nicely done, babe,” she joked trying to ignore the fact that 3 simple tasks had taken them almost 40 minutes by now, prompting her to playfully throw his night shirt in way so it landed on his head. “Now put that on and you’re good to pass out for the night.”
She walked back over to her side of the bed, throwing in a glance at Flynn in his crib to make sure he was still well and asleep, before crawling back under the covers and pushing the part on Jake’s side aside to invite him in.
It was a matter of seconds before he dropped into place but instead of passing out immediately as Amy had expected him to, her husband shuffled across the bed’s invisible center line wordlessly asking for snuggles that Amy, of course, couldn’t decline. She loved that Jake went out and had some fun by himself, although, at the end of the day, nothing would ever beat having him home with her – even if it meant dealing with an all at once incapable and horny man child.
So, by all means, she lifted her arm to welcome him to make himself at home under it, felt his head moving to on top of her chest, before she put it back down in a soft grip around his shoulders. His free arm would then soon enough wrap around her middle earning him a soft peck to the forehead.
“I love you, Amz,” he mumbled tiredly into her shirt.
“I love you too, Jake,” she smiled leaning her cheek against where she’d just planted the kiss.
“And I love our baby. Zo much. I mizzed him all ze night,” he mumbled on the verge of falling asleep.
And while she always did expect it these days, right then and there when she very honestly in the moment least did expect it, a loud cry as if scripted, tore through the darkness of their bedroom. A small sigh escaped her body although she was couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the situation.
“… Sounds like he missed you too, babe.”
“Oh no,” Jake whined basically imitating Flynn to a point where it was scary as Amy scooted out from his snuggle and the newfound warmth of their bed. “I woke him up. I’m zo zo sorry.”
In the meantime Amy had made her way to the crib.
“You didn’t wake him up, honey,” she made sure to reassure Jake of the fact before picking up the tiny crying figure before promptly looking at the time on her night stand, where her suspicion was immediately proved to be right. “It’s 4 AM: he’s just hungry.”
Not many things in this world were sure or certain, but if there was one thing that was then it was definitely Amy’s knowledge when it came to her son’s schedule. Yes, Jake got up with Flynn just as frequently as she did, but contrary to her, Jake didn’t take note of the time and just did what his son demanded without interest in cracking the code to their baby’s life-pattern: as long as he got to care for him and make him happy again, the logistics were somewhat irrelevant to Jake.
“You sure?” he complained nervously questioning his wife as she sat back down in bed with Flynn cradled to her chest.
“Yes, completely.”
With her always being right and all, Jake settled for accepting his wife’s statement quieting down to take in the sight of their son fumbling to find where his mother had lifted up her shirt in order to feed him. Seconds later, like the peace that followed after a huge sky-cracking thunderstorm, silence settled upon the family of three letting the two adult of said family know that Flynn had once again worked out how to still his hunger. Apart from the very faint sounds of suckling, the occasional little pop followed by a wail when he’d lose his mouthful and complain until Amy managed to help him back on track, idyllic silence of the night wrapped up the apartment as if Jake had never interrupted it just an hour prior.
It was in moments like these where Jake became untouchable, completely disregarding any physical or mental state he might be in, and simply gave in to soaking in the faultless felicity parenthood provided him with. He’d never been anything but happy with Amy but this life he’d been living for 3 months now was even better and beyond any imaginable expectations he’d had. Flynn, though being the one who was completely dependent on his father’s care, had given Jake life a renewed meaning he hadn’t known or felt close to before. A meaning he’d originally been so afraid of even considering before he met Amy but had come to realize he wanted with her and only her.
He wanted 4 AM cries. He wanted the sight of Amy, depending on what her energy level was, either dozing off to or actively admiring their son latching onto her swelled chest as he suckled on it. He wanted the rush of pride every time Flynn made a new sound even if it was simply bringing into existence a new pitch when he squealed or whimpered. Jake wanted all and everything, big and small, as long as it was with them.
So of course, as soon as Flynn was placed stomach down on Amy’s chest after being done eating and burped, earning himself a sweet praise when he succeeded, Jake was back to snuggling into his wife’s side. There was no minding sharing her chest with the tiny human as it provided Jake with the perfect combination of cuddling with his wife and the incredible sight of their stupefying son slipping back into a peaceful state of sleepy satisfaction.
“He’s sro prerfect, Amy.”
“I know, babe,” with a hand safely cradling and stroking the back of Flynn’s decently hairy head she mumbled her reply obviously in the early stages of dozing off herself. The other hand, this arm having returned to its spot around Jake, was resting against her husband’s back stroking it in a synchronized motion.  
“Like, he’z like getting ze one exact toy you wanted ze mostest in your Happy Meal as a child.”  
She would laugh out loud at his comparison, finding it incredibly endearing, but she was by then too exhausted and only managed to form a tired smile – also the laughing would cause her chest and then automatically Flynn to quiver which she was not about to dare.
“He really is,” she mumbled.
“I think we shrould have anozer.”
It was easy to tell that the comment was partly genuine and sweet but also partly… intoxicated. Though Amy didn’t doubt the fact that Jake wouldn’t mind more children, she also didn’t doubt the fact that he definitely wouldn’t remember this conversation when he woke up some hours later with a hammering headache and zombie-like state of mind.
“I think I have enough on my hands with you two.”
Yes, she did see them having at least two kids but one newborn was definitely more than enough at the moment, plus  they had plenty of time to consider further additions to the family once Flynn would be older and Jake not completely wasted. Although it was nice to hear some truth about his inner thoughts spill from her drunk husband, there was no doubt in her mind that there was no need to hurry. They would get there eventually and for now they were already so very happy.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by the feeling of Jake’s lips planting a soft, half-sloppy kiss to, first, their son’s head, then, then her neck. Then small movements beneath her hand on Flynn was next, quickly peaking her curiosity and winning over her exhaustion then forcing herself to open her eyes. Immediately feeling glad she did so because she was met by the most heartwarming sight of Jake carefully caressing Flynn’s tiny feet.
“We’re gunna make zo many perfect bebiez, Amy Trivago. Zo many. Like zis one.”
“I’m sure of it, babe,” she gave into one last tired chuckle hoping agreeing would give him the peace he needed to fall asleep. And besides the fact his fingers continuously toyed with the tiny feet, Jake seemed fast asleep a few moments later leaving Amy to soak in the moment, fighting to stay awake just a few more minutes to enjoy how incredibly lucky she was.
There was indeed nothing better than feeling her two favorite boys’ heartbeats against her skin as she herself dove into a deep sleep.
61 notes · View notes