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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)

A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)

you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT

Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.

Word count: 31210

Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol

I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.

The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.

Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.

Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.

This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.

The secrets:

I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.

The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.

After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.

My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.

The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.

As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.

He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.

On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.

She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.

I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.

Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.

I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.

“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.

“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.

I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”

He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”

I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”

“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”

The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.

Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”

The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”

I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.

“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”

At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.

The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”

His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”

“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.

I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.

The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”

The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”

Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”

His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.

I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.

That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.

Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”

It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”

He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.

“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.

It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.

Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”

“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”

Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”

The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”

Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”

“Looking forward to it.”

True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.

I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”

The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.

“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”

Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”

It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”

Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”

And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.

The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.

“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”

Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”

“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”

I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”

His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”

Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”

I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”

“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”

Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”

Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.

I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”

My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”

The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”

“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”

He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”

Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”

I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”

“I would have if I felt it was significant.”

“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”

He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”

The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.

“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.

Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.

He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.

I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”

“Y/n.”

I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”

He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.

I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”

I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.

Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.

I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.

“Let me go.”

He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”

There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you mad?”

I press my lips together. “I told you--”

“Do you really think you could lie to me?”

“You don’t know me that well.”

Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”

Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”

“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”

“You can afford to say things like that.”

“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”

I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”

“No, I--”

“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”

The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.

I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”

He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”

I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.

“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.

“What?”

I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”

The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”

“Why not?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”

“That was political--”

“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”

Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”

“I can’t take that from you--”

“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”

I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”

My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”

I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.

This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”

His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”

Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”

I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”

When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"

"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."

Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."

tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #grisha #Grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone netflix

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cheeriecherry · 4 years

Note

hi!! how are you? can you write for baku, deku, & todo where they meet their s/o family for the first time & they’re super scary? they’re all super tall, buff, full of tattoos, loud, aggressive, mean & the fam is super overprotective over s/o & the 3 are just freaking out bc s/o is the opposite? s/o is super sweet, calm, bubbly & short so the last thing they were expecting was this & they’re just freaking out & trying to get on their s/o’s family good side? sorry if that sounds complicated 😭

The more specific the ask, the better! I’ll see what my brain can come up with, I’ve just had couch medicine so

Requests are temporarily closed so I can catch up on them!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

-Loud boi isn’t gonna let anyone know that he’s intimidated.

-He’s already a little nervous to meet your family for the first time, though he’d never admit it. You were so hesitant to ask him to come over, and at first he thought it was because he was the loud and aggressive one.

-But that Saturday afternoon when he walks up to your house and your dad answers the door, he’s like ‘oh’ and it all clicks into place.

-He loves you a lot, so he wants to make a good impression, but he also never backs down from a challenge. So he and your dad have a stare down in the doorway, until you stroll around the corner and see them.

-You scold your dad and tell him to stop being rude to your boyfriend. Your dad doesn’t say anything, but he sighs and lets Bakugou in.

-The fun doesn’t stop there, though. You tug Bakugou around the house from room to room introducing him to your family, and every single one of them gives him the same cold, mildly threatening stare.

-Ngl your uncle who lives in the basement apartment kinda scares him, but he doesn’t say anything and tries to play it cool. The guy is built like a brick house and covered head to toe in intricate tattoos.

-He doesn’t mention it, but you can tell that your boyfriend is wondering about potential ties you have to the mafia, with a guy like that living in your house. But you assure him it’s just your uncle’s quirk that gives him the art on his skin, and that he’s actually pretty shy about it and doesn’t like going out.

-The last person he meets is your mom. With everyone being so much taller and physically stronger than you, he assumes that your mom is gonna be the person you got your tiny genes from.

-Lol no

-She’s at least six feet tall, and without a doubt the most intimidating person in the house. She’s got the face of an angel and the grace of a butterfly, but behind her smile Bakugou can see the willingness to kill anyone who hurts her baby (you).

-Lunch with the fam is a little awkward at first, until your younger cousin goads Bakugou into a spice eating contest. Then the shouting at the table begins, everyone placing their bets on who they think will win. You’re the only one who bets on your boyfriend, and you get like a hundred collective bucks out of your family members when he wins.

-He’s earned the respect of your cousin, who’s like eight maybe and now deems Bakugou a respectable opponent. Bakugou is torn between yelling and patting the kid on the head, so he probably does both and shouts at the kid to keep practicing so they can try and beat him one day.

-At the end of the visit, your boyfriend is surprisingly calm. You’re walking him home, arm in arm, not really saying much. Though you do tell him that he’s taking your living situation pretty well.

-He’s like wdym? And you explain to him that most of your friends and potential partners are scared of your family and refuse to come over because of them.

-Bakugou just scoffs and is like ‘of course they are, because they’re chicken shits. As if I’d be scared of a bunch of-’ and he pauses because you start laughing, not at him, just about the situation.

-Your family actually really likes him and find him a suitable boyfriend for you. They know you’re strong, but they want someone who can protect you and who’s loyal to you, and they see that in Bakugou. They probably invite him to the next family gathering.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

-A nervous boi

-He wants so badly to make a good impression on your family, to get their approval of your relationship. He knows you’re close with them, so he doesn’t want their potential opinions of him to sway your desire to be with him.

-He dresses casually but tidy, and while he waits at the door he fiddles with his shirt a bit.

-Almost has a heart attack when your sister opens the door and glares down at him with the rage of 1000 suns.

-He does his best to introduce himself formally and be polite, but your sister is making it awfully hard for him to stay focused. She doesn’t say anything to him, so he just continues chattering until he’s off on a tangent and saying way too much.

-And you’re like ‘I feel my boyfriend danger senses tingling’ so you go downstairs and lo and behold.

-Ofc he’s not in any actual danger, just the danger of making a fool of himself. You set a hand on your sister’s arm, and the moment you do it’s like all the anger in her body dissipates and she turns into a sweet, smiling bean. Then she skips away to go do her homework.

-You pull Midoriya inside and give him a once-over anyways, just to make sure your sister didn’t burn holes in him with her glares. But he assures you he’s alright, and he’s a lot more relaxed now that you’re around.

-Probably says something like ‘I can see why you were so nervous about bringing me to your house, your older sister seems really protective of you’

-and you’re like ‘um,,,,actually she’s my younger sister’ and he’s like ‘wot’ and you’re like ‘also she’s the least scary of everyone’ and he’s like ‘wOT’

-You waste no time parading him from room to room to show him off, all while his soul slowly escapes his body.

-Your parents actually scare him the least, like, of course they’re protective of you, but they have the common courtesy not to exaggerate their scary qualities. They still tower over both you and Midoriya, but they’re mostly civil in terms of interactions.

-Your older brothers scare him a little bit more. They share the basement suite, so you drag your boyfriend downstairs to introduce them all to each other...and interrupt their poker game with their friends.

-All of them have some kind of tattoo visible, nothing Midoriya recognizes as any gang symbol, but he’s still wary. However, he manages to say hello and all the pleasantries, and actually gets a smile out of one of your brothers, who tries to rope him into a game of cards.

-Thankfully you save him with the excuse that you still have more family to show him off to, but he’s left with the promise of ‘later, then’.

-Lastly is your sister, who he’s technically already met. She’s arguably the scariest of everyone. She’s easily almost six feet tall and looks like she could bench press the two of you with ease. You promise him that she’s a literal sweet pea, but when the two of you walk up to her room, Midoriya isn’t so sure.

-She glares at him hard, like she’s judging him about everything and if he doesn’t pass she’ll snap him in half. He has to swallow the lump in his throat, and quickly looks around the room for some kind of thing to ask about that might get her to open up.

-And he sees it. One of the rarer All Might figures from an old merch line, one that he also has, so he’s like ‘do you like All Might’ and it’s like a switch is flipped.

-You breathe a sigh of relief as the two of them start nerding out about their favourite hero, sprouting facts and recalling films and old news videos. When he mentions that All Might teaches at his school, your sister honest to god squeals, and starts asking all kinds of questions about what kind of teacher he is, what he’s learned, what it’s like to be a protogee of such a great hero. He answers everything with glee, all his former fears forgotten.

-When it comes time for dinner, your sister insists that your boyfriend sit next to her, which is apparently a very high honor because one of your brothers sulks off to the other end of the table. (You assure your brother later that it’s just temporary and that your sister just really likes your boyfriend).

-But seeing the two of them interact warms your heart, it’s usually hard for your sister to make friends because she’s so intimidating, so you’re glad they’re getting along. And so does the rest of your family! They see Midoriya’s kindness and hardworking attitude, and they warm up to him pretty quickly.

-It ends up being a really enjoyable night, despite the rocky start. Though sadly yes your boyfriend does eventually get roped into a game of poker, and yes your brother’s cheat, but you cheat too, and you’re all betting in chocolate coins. You share your hoard with him.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

-He goes into it being not nervous, and ends up being Quite nervous once he meets your family.

-When he arrives, you’re thankfully the one to answer the door, so he doesn’t get hassled, so everything seems pretty normal right off the bat. Until your cousin walks through the room and is like ‘???? who’s this pipsqueak???’ and Todoroki is torn between being his usual snarky self and being polite.

-He wats to throw shade right back, but for your sake he wants to make a good impression. You’re used to his manners (or lack thereof) but he doesn’t want your family to think he’s not worthy of you. He really loves you a lot and wants to stay with you.

-So he goes for a formal introduction, even going in for a handshake. It’s kind of funny, because your cousin is like ‘lol what are manners’ but your glare forces him to return the gesture. His hand completely dwarfs your boyfriend’s, and you have to hide a snicker.

-And then the guy awkwardly wanders out of the room.

-You and Todoroki kind of just stand there for a second, and then he’s like ‘is this what you meant when you said your family was intimidating’ and you’re like ‘:3′

-You give him a tour of the house, a nice modest place with traditional aspects. It’s nowhere near as big as his, but he like it that way, it makes the place more homey and warm.

-You introduce him to family members as you come across them; your younger twin nuisances cousins, who are more mischievous than dangerous, your aunt and her wife, who look like they could get away with murder, your brother and his friends, who mostly only glare at Todoroki to try and make him uncomfortable.

-Thankfully he’s used to the stoic and slightly scary expressions, thanks to his dad. He wonders momentarily if you’re safe here, but then he realizes that everyone in the house is especially kind to you, and very affectionate when they think he’s not looking. He doesn’t even bother asking the question.

-Lastly are your parents, who are in the kitchen preparing dinner. They’re a little perturbed that you’re both in the kitchen when they’re working, but they seem to be less purposefully intimidating than everyone else. They’re still a little scary though.

-Then he notices that your parents are making soba. From scratch. Which is particularly difficult to master, so he figures they must be pretty well practiced if they’re so good at it.

-Without thinking, he asks if they’ve made soba before, and soon your parents are sprouting off about their culinary careers and the restaurant they run. You were supposed to take over one day, but you ultimately chose a different path in life, even after they taught you so much.

-Todoroki didn’t even realize you could cook, but now he wants more than anything to try your meals someday, or learn a few things from you and make dinners together.

-It startles him a little that he’s thinking so far ahead in your lives, but honestly if you’ve managed to get him as a boyfriend then you’re likely to have him for your whole life, if you want him.

-He talks a little more with your parents about the food, expressing in his way that he’s looking forward to a dinner that’s had so much hard work go into it. And you can see the little light go on in your parents’ heads, the light that signals they approve of your choice in boyfriend and have started making room in their hearts for him.

-Dinner is nice, pretty peaceful aside from your twin cousins causing their usual trouble, but he’s nonplussed by it. he still wonders how you managed to come out so small in comparison to everyone else, but it doesn’t bother him too much. He can see that you’re loved and well cared for, and a little piece of him hopes that one day he’ll be able to get to know your family even better.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #Anonymous

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moonlit-han · 4 years

Text

stray kids’ reactions when finding out that you’re pregnant ↠ all members

genre: reaction, fluff, angst word count: 3.3k warnings: discussion of pregnancy (obviously), mention of abortion, discussion of sex & kinks, swearing, suggestive request: yes (anon) a/n: i tried to make this inclusive of anyone who can and decides to bear children. this is in no reflects stray kids in reality, as this is purely a work of fiction. also, thanks to lin for the cheesecake and twirling bits~ reminder: respect a person’s right to choose whether they will have a child or not. it’s their business and their’s alone. if you have a problem with that, then perhaps this fic isn’t for you. and, please remember to practice safe sexual habits and always, always, get continued and enthusiastic consent!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

bang chan

a year after getting married

the two of you had decided to have children

and had been trying to conceive for maybe 5 months

for the first couple months, you’d both been stressed and so your bodies hadn’t exactly cooperated

but just this last time you’d tried, everything had been perfect

the mood was just right, you’d moved seamlessly together, it was exactly the right time of the month

everything was as it should be

so, a few weeks later

you’d called chan into the bathroom and taken the little test

having woken up feeling a little off

…..well, not necessarily off, but just different

you thought it’d be a good idea to take the pregnancy test

you sat on chan’s lap as the test slowly revealed the information

and since you’d done this several times before,

you leaned your head back against your husband’s shoulder, waiting with bated breath

after a few minutes, chan, who’d been looking down into your lap, rubbed your belly excitedly

“oh love, you’re pregnant!” he said,

you turned in chan’s arms and began to cry from sheer relief and happiness

you’d had a little nagging worry in the back of your mind that you might not be able to get pregnant

but it was just that now: meaningless worry

you couldn’t believe it

you were going to have chan’s baby

and honestly, you couldn’t think of a better person to be a father

chan was practically vibrating

because, oh my gods, he was so excited

i mean;;;

really!!

fucking!!!

excited!!!!!

he now gets to channel all his dad energy into

actually being a dad!!!

eeeeeep!!!!!

he’d been wanting to be a father and now he was!!!!

he was on cloud 9

and so he scooped you up to carry you to the bed, gently laying you down

“i’m not going to break like fine china” you giggled, and chan just kissed your nose

for the rest of the day, chan absolutely worshipped you (and your body)

making it extremely obvious that he was even more in love with you than before

that he would love you until the end of time and beyond

lee minho

you hadn’t exactly been trying to get pregnant

but pregnant you were

you’d used protection—two kinds!

and were careful

but sometimes that’s just not enough

you noticed that your period was late

only by a couple days but your cycles were freakishly regular

so, you went and got a pregnancy test

minho was at work when you called him

(he’d had to go in on a saturday to finish something ajhskjfh)

so you really just couldn't wait to tell him

when he picked up, you didn’t waste any time

“minho, i’m pregnant”

“WHAT??!!!”

you could practically hear minho’s look of shock through the phone

“i’m pregnant, minho. can you come home early so we can talk about this?”

“yeah i’ll be home as soon as i can!!”

you just curled up on the couch with the cats, waiting for him to get home

minho was a little panicky bc neither of you had planned for this

not now, if ever

the two of you were neck-deep in your careers

and had been doing perfectly fine without children

while the idea of it was nice, you knew that, realistically, you probably wouldn’t be able to support children

it seemed like you were being tested by the universe or something

as much as you didn’t want to admit it

the decision was fairly clear to you

so when minho came home

you’d been thinking about the situation for a long time

and had already cried once

“i can’t, min,” was the first thing you said when he sat down next to you

“i know, honey. it’s okay.”

“i feel horrible but i can’t have this child. we haven’t planned for this or anything. this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

your voice was a little shaky as you laid your head against minho’s shoulder

“so, what are you thinking you’ll do?”

minho’s voice is gentle and leaves all the space in the world for whatever answer you’ll give

“i— please don’t be mad?” you’re starting to worry now

“y/n, love, it’s completely your choice. you know that. i support you whether you decide to have the child or not.”

minho wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer

“i don’t think i can see this through right now, min,” you said quietly

he nods, knowing what your next words will be

“i’m going to get an abortion. it’s still so early—it’ll be fine.”

minho just held you as the weight of what you’d just said crashed down

but you knew it was the right choice

there was no way you were ready to have a child

minho was the most supportive and understanding he could be

you were glad that you’d chosen him as your life partner

and, if you ever did decide to have a child, you knew that he’d make a great father

just his reaction and support in this situation alone told you that much

maybe, just maybe, you’d try in a few years

seo changbin

you and changbin were kind of neutral on the whole “having kids” thing

you weren’t trying to get pregnant

but then again, you weren’t trying not to get pregnant

plus, you’d just found a new kink of changbin’s

he’d come home one night and was ~very much in the mood~

he was just praising you over and over, and telling you exactly how he was going to make you feel incredible

then one little thing slipped out, one totally new thing

“i’m gonna fill you up so well”

but there was no denying that it was insanely hot

especially in his slightly husky voice

he’d continued, over and over, his face buried in the crook of your neck

and by the end of the night, you’d felt a bit like an eclair with too much cream in it

it wasn’t your period that had alerted you

no, not that because your period was annoyingly irregular

it was when you started to feel a bit funny in the mornings

that you decided to take a pregnancy test

you’d been shocked (well, only a little bit) to find that you were indeed pregnant

you waited until changbin got home

and then sauntered up to him quite sexily

you trailed your fingers over his chest and whisper “hey baby”

changbin looked more than a little excited and was all “just give me a minute and then i’m all yours”

and then, you just dropped the news into the conversation like a child drops a particularly large rock into a pond

knowing there will be a splash but not really caring

“i’m pregnant” *y/n grinning like a fox*

changbin spluttered and had to lean against the wall for a moment

he finally got himself back under control

changbin: “well, i guess my impregnation kink paid off”

AKLJDHAKLDJFHGAKJDFH

y/n: “fucking hell bin, you’re not supposed to say that!”

changbin: “i’m right tho…..”

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

yeah okay changbin was right

and it had been a hot several weeks in the bedroom since he’d realized that kink

you definitely couldn’t complain

the two of you decided that you’re ready to be parents

and that, of course, you’d stay together

the child would have two completely devoted parents

who, when the child turned 25, would insist on telling them the story of their conception

changbin was absolutely over the moon

he couldn’t wait to cuddle you while your belly grows

bc you’d be even softer than usual

and absolutely lovely

just knowing you’re carrying his child makes him even more in love with you than he already was

hwang hyunjin

mild panic

nothing major

just thE FACT THAT HE GOT YOU PREGNANT

FUCK

F U C K

…………..

what if his mother found out

he’d definitely be dead as a doorknob, then

aNYwAy

hyunjin would be nothing but incredible

yeah, he wasn’t expecting that he’d get you pregnant

and you’d been on birth control and being very careful

he also completely expected you to not want to have the baby

and, really, he was okay with that

it was your body, after all

but when you told him that you were pregnant

and that you wanted to have the baby

he immediately went into full-on support mode

telling you he’d never, ever, leave you

and that he’d always be there for the kid, too

he snuggled you for hours

(literally some of the best snuggling you’d ever had)

just talking about how you’d be parents

and what color you should paint the child’s room

hyunjin voted for peach, since it’s a warm color that would both brighten the room and calm the little one

you also talked about whether, now that you were pregnant, you wanted to get married

“while i’d be heartbroken if i couldn’t marry you, y/n, i understand if you don’t want to.”

you’d immediately shot down that idea

“nope, i’m marrying you, hwang hyunjin. you’re not getting out of that one so easily!”

hyunjin was extremely relieved, since all he’d wanted to do since you’d started dating was marry you

and now he was going to!!!!

you’d kissed him thoroughly and were well on your way to doing more

when hyunjjin remembered that he should probably tell his mother that

a) he was getting married

and b) he was going to be a father

you promised to tell your parents, too

everyone was surprised, but not too surprised

your mother actually said she’d been waiting for one of those two things to happen so the two of you would just get it together and be together for the rest of your lives

(ajfgakjdfghalkj moooooooom;;;;; )

you decided to have the wedding after the baby was born

after all, you were committed to each other

and there was no reason to think otherwise

all you could think of as you lay in bed that night was how your child would definitely be taller than you by the time they were twelve

as hyunjin lay beside you, all he could think of was that the baby would have your smile

he was sure of it

and he knew that everything would be okay

as long as he kept you smiling

han jisung

jisung’s immediate response was:

“oh my god, we need cheesecake to celebrate!!!”

and proceeded to drag you out the door to buy cheesecake

he’d be just as excited as chan

and had definitely been thinking about what it’d be like to have kids with you

so when you’d told him you were pregnant

jisung was ecstatic

he’d already been thinking about names

and wasted no time in telling them to you

the day after you told him

you spent an entire day in bed, just talking about what you’d name your child

how you wanted to raise them

what you’d like to be called as parents

if there were things that you were completely against in parenting, you’d discuss those, too

aaaand after a particularly lovely morning in bed,

jisung just kinda mumbled to you

“baby, you’re gonna be so hot”

“ji what’re you talking about?? i’m not already hot?“

“you’re gonna be even hotter. when you’re showing. like, holy fuck!! just knowing you’re pregnant with my kid is the hottest thing ever. you’re gonna be an amazing parent—it’s all you! there wasn’t, um, much for me to do…”

“hmmm, enjoy it while it lasts, because i’m gonna have dark circles under my eyes for the next 10 years”

“you’ll still be hot as fuck, though, baby”

AKFJLHALKDFHSJKFH

he’s just really sweet and excited hhhhhh

jisung would also try to learn everything he could to support you

and make sure that you and the baby stay safe

oh and then that one time you went to the obstetrician for a routine check early on

and welp you’re having twins

jisung kind of freaked out

but mainly around his friends

to you, he was nothing but excited and totally ready to take on the challenge of raising two kids at once

yikes

but he would be determined to do everything right for the kids

and would be such a fun and loving father

lee felix

felix hadn’t said anything about it to you before

but once you’d gotten married

he’d really wanted to have kids

felix, though, being a sweetie, hadn’t brought it up because he wanted you to have full choice over whether you’d have kids

but he’d secretly hoped that you’d decide that having kids with him was what you wanted

so when you told him that you wanted to go off birth control

bc you thought it was time the two of you should start a family

felix felt like it was his lucky day

when you told him you’d waited long enough for the birth control not to affect you

felix had texted your friends, who were supposed to meet you for dinner, that something unavoidable and important had come up

and that you had to cancel

then, he’d pulled you into the bedroom and you hadn’t gotten any sleep

two months later, you told felix that you were, indeed, pregnant

he picked you up and spun you around, squeezing you so tight!!

and then put you down quickly, a look of horror on his face

“what if i just hurt you and,,,,the baby,,,,”

“felix it doesn’t work like that, you know that”

“true, sorry. just paranoid.

BUT OH MY GOD WE’RE HAVING A BABY!!!!!”

he kissed you so deeply that you thought he must have some merman in him

no normal human could go without proper breath that long

felix then called every single one of his friends and family to tell them the good news

he called chan twice by accident

and chan just acted like he’d never heard the news before

(chan texted you shortly thereafter, wondering if felix was okay)

felix was all smiles for weeks after,

telling anyone and everyone that he was going to be a father

he’d leave little post-its around for you with baby names

or would add random things to the shopping list, just to see if it was something you were craving

on more than one occasion, your cravings found new and surprisingly delicious food combinations that felix managed to create proper recipes for

once the baby was born,

felix’s favorite thing was to fall asleep with the baby on his chest

he’d sing soft lullabies to them, usually putting you to sleep, too

all he wanted to do was show both of you all the love in the world

kim seungmin

you’d called seungmin a month after a surprisingly wild night together

you’d been seeing each other off and on

just casually, nothing serious

mainly just physical but with a nice friendship

it was the perfect thing for two graduate students who sometimes needed to take the edge off

but now he—

fuck

he’d gotten you pregnant

he couldn’t believe it, especially since the two of you were always careful

you sounded so bewildered over the phone

and seungmin insisted that you meet up to talk about it

when he saw you, he immediately wrapped you in the tightest embrace possible

and just whispered “i’m sorry” over and over again

then, you had a long conversation about next steps

you wanted to have the baby,

since you’d wanted to have a child someday

and thought, seeing as you could actually provide for the child, you were fine with being pregnant

but you also wanted seungmin to be in the child’s life

he wholeheartedly agreed

and then…

and then you suggested actually dating

seungmin, who’d “caught” feelings months ago, was overjoyed

he was all for becoming a couple

and being there for you and the child in all ways he could

he began by asking you out on a date

and all you could do was laugh

bc here he was, the man who’d gotten you pregnant, asking you on a date

it was mildly ridiculous

but you said yes to him faster than you’d said yes to anything else before

seungmin researched the things pregnant people should and shouldn’t do

and then made sure not to suggest any of those things for dates

oh and he always had a little note in his wallet with the foods you shouldn’t eat, too

he just wanted the best for you

and completely spoiled you

seungmin felt a little guilty, as if he’d somehow tricked you into dating him

but you insisted that it was nothing like that

you truly wanted to be with him

and had, honestly, just been waiting for a chance to broach the subject

even after you decided to be life partners

and even after the baby was born

seungmin still felt amazed that he’d been lucky enough to end up with you

you were amazing

and the baby had your laugh,

which only made his world all that more brighter

yang jeongin

jeongin absolutely smothered you in kisses when you told him

it was as if he wanted to show his purest self

totally and unashamedly in love

and intent on showing it at all times

he’d carried you to your bedroom and told you to just rest

you’d giggled, insisting that you didn’t have to be bedridden yet

meanwhile, he’d gone to the kitchen and made you breakfast

he was determined to do everything for you

after all, another life was growing inside you

it was the least he could do

later that day, he started dismantling his office so it could be the child’s room

and insisted on going out and buying you every single piece of maternity clothing you could ever want

he researched all the right foods for you to eat while pregnant

and make sure to do a lead test on the paint in your slightly older home

(it was all okay, but he just wanted to check!)

jeongin was so, so excited that he was having a child with you

he couldn’t stop talking about it when you went to a small get-together of friends

he definitely told all his co-workers

and was just glowing with pride

jeongin had a list as long as his forearm of all the different baby names he loved

and he hoped that you would want more than one child

he was incredibly excited for the whole experience of being a father

after being the youngest in his friend group and being babied so much

he wanted to show that he could be responsible and mature

(even though he was already 34 years old and mature enough)

sometimes he acted a little silly and giddy

but who could blame him?!

bc after months of careful planning and attempts

you were pregnant!

and jeongin couldn’t be happier

he would show you and the child (or children!)

that life was sweeter than ambrosia

and that he’d love you with his whole being

completely and utterly, as deeply as he could

802 notes · View notes

chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling

summary: requested: andy barber being obsessed with the thought of reader being pregnant and wanting nothing more than to be a dad. being the most doting, caring man throughout the whole pregnancy, rubbing reader's feet and going out to get all her cravings and rubbing her stomach constantly. crying when he feels the baby kick. painting the whole nursery himself and spoiling the hell out of their little bundle when it arrives. andy barber being domestic and soft as hell in general gets me so weak.

warnings: some smut. pool smut. not the same pool bc that was a public pool but it needed to happen so. andy being cute, as cute as i’m sure he was when his wife was pregnant. (my proof: that smile every time someone asks him if he’s jacob’s dad)

word count: almost 10,000. honestly, i was going to keep going but jesus 10,000?!

pairing: andy barber x reader

How many brands of pregnancy tests existed in this world?

Honestly, beyond 5, what the fuck was the point? They measured the same shit, did they not? You didn’t care enough to find out, but during the period of painful silence, you thought about googling the answer.

You were in the tub, wrapped up in one of Andy’s hoodies, just watching him. He was at the counter, looking at the timer. He’d gone out to pick up the tests for what you guys had decided would be your new routine.

You’d always had sex a lot, but lately, Andy didn’t want to go a night without. Not because he was under the impression that would be a more effective method, he just literally could not keep his hands off you anymore. He asked you that morning if you wanted to make Friday night the test night. It made sense, he had his weekends off and that meant he could skulk around the house if it didn’t happen.

Most tests took 2 to 3 minutes. Some took 15 for whatever fucking reason. He wanted to wait for all of them, so for a quarter of an hour, you were just stuck there. Waiting. With him. Which shouldn’t have been so stressful, but it was.

The day you told him you wanted to try for a baby, he didn’t let you out of bed. Even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen for a while since you needed to finish your last week and a half of birth control. He had just been so happy, any attempts made to hide his obsession with you getting pregnant were tossed out the window immediately.

He’d thought about it before you, he’d wanted it before you, but hearing that you finally wanted it too just triggered something. He bought parenting books because he figured during your pregnancy, he wouldn’t have that much time to read. He bought this huge ass book of names and after he fucked you, he liked to bring it out and try to talk you into names he wanted while you were in such a blissful state.

Every second of trying had made you fall in love with him more. Yes, you wanted kids, but honestly, babies didn’t much appeal to you. You understood that to get to kids, you had to deal with the babies and you were okay with that, but mainly, you wanted to make Andy a father. You knew he would be good at it, possibly the best in the world.

And even with all the wanting, he never put pressure on you. The morning you told him you were done with the birth control, he sat you down and had the longest talk with you just to make sure that he hadn’t done anything to make you think he was losing patience with you. He wanted a baby, but he needed a happy wife. He didn’t want any part of something that you weren’t completely on board with.

But with wanting to try, you needed to make some changes. You were always fairly active since Andy had his busy days and you didn’t like just sitting and doing nothing while you waited for him to get home. With trying to conceive, your workouts had to be a little more basic. Longer, but less intense runs, some yoga. Andy had read that cardio was important, you thought up swimming. The very next day, he was already making plans to expand the house and add an indoor swimming pool. When you gave him a look, he pointed out that the kids would love it when they were old enough to swim. How could you possibly say no?

Caffeine was next on the chopping block. Andy, the sweetheart that he was, knew how much you loved coffee and tried his hardest to cut it out as well. He wanted to show you that you weren’t in this alone. It was your body, yes, but he would make sacrifices, too. The first time you caught him falling asleep at the dinner table, you had to tell him to end his noble support. With a job like his, he needed his coffee. The compromise was that he wouldn’t drink it in your presence.

He also did insane amounts of research. Even after you stopped the pill, he insisted on using condoms for a month after so you could start getting some folic acid before ending up pregnant. That was quite the sacrifice. One of your favorite things on this planet was when he finished inside you. Not a fucking condom. But you were trying this thing where you didn’t express negativity because with Andy as your husband, there was no way not to feel like a brat. How was someone so perfect?

Your period hadn’t returned yet but that didn’t mean you were incapable of getting pregnant. Hence the random, shot-in-the-dark pregnancy test Friday plan. You didn’t feel pregnant and you knew that was stupid. Some didn’t know they were pregnant until they were giving birth. And you’d never been pregnant before, so how would you know what to look for? You just couldn’t stop thinking about how you didn’t feel it. You also didn’t want to tell Andy because you hoped you were wrong.

It had been a week short of two months without the pill and three weeks since he stopped wearing condoms. The chances of it just falling into place were slim—you didn’t have research to back that up, just some deeply-rooted cynicism. Maybe it was your defense mechanism, act like you saw it coming and you wouldn’t be disappointed. Right?

Wrong, which you discovered when you saw Andy’s face after he turned over one of the tests. You wouldn’t cry because it had been a total of 5 seconds and some people had to try much longer, and you didn’t want him to have to put aside his feelings to then console you. You did, however, want to cry.

“We should see a doctor,” you said.

He scoffed. “We haven’t really been trying that long.”

“But we can, why not?”

He finally turned to you, forcing his expression into something that didn’t break your heart just to see. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Andy, I told you that I’m ready.”

“I know, and trust me, there’s nothing that I want more. I just also think there’s still some romance in being old fashioned and just letting it happen.”

“Google is your new best friend, Andy. Why not consult an actual professional?”

“We can, if you want, but like I said, it hasn’t been that long. Besides, until you start your period again, it’s probably just a waiting game. Not always, but it can be. We should be realistic about this. I don’t want to waste a visit down to the doctor just so they can tell us what my new best friend already has.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, “if that’s what you want—”

“None of that. What do you want?”

“I want to be the mother of your children.”

He sighed, crouching down to your side. “You will be.”

“You don’t know that—”

“No, I do,” he insisted. “Because I’m not going to stop fucking you. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll go see a doctor. If there’s a problem, we will fix it. If we can’t, we will adopt. Are we clear? There is no way, Mrs. Barber, that you will not be the mother of my children one day. And because I damn well know that I deserve it, I will have the great honor of being the father of your children.”

You sighed and melted, but you hoped that much wasn’t apparent. “You’re so lame.”

He smirked. “Wanna get out of that tub so we can have sex?”

“Why can’t we have sex in the tub?”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe, but no water.”

“Okay, that’s weird.”

You shrugged. “Fine, I’ll get out of the tub.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He went to stand up but you caught his arm before he could. He took one look at you and was already shaking his head. “Don’t even say it—”

“I am, though.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Ever.”

“I feel bad.”

“You shouldn’t. It could be me. It could be nothing. Baby, it is too soon to start worrying about anything. Avoid stress, that is what you need to be doing.”

He could say it a million different ways, you were still sorry.

It was troubling how excited you were to get your period back. Honestly, when the birth control had finally taken it away, you cried. Tears of joy. To have the same reaction over getting it back felt weird.

Andy also seemed excited until you outlined just how inconvenient the whole thing was. Okay, that was being negative, but you were kind of in a bad mood. Something he was not at all bothered by. Because of course. He hadn’t been bothered by a single thing since you told him you wanted to start trying.

Officially, four months into wanting a baby and the only thing keeping you holding on was your beautiful, loving husband. He always knew when you were feeling down, so he would talk about the future and how nice it would be when you could finally take the kids out on family trips. How great taking them to school would be. All the fun things you would get them into, dance, sports, anything that you both could go and support. You were completely lost on how he was so positive all the time.

You needed to keep going, though. Like he said, you guys had options. It was better to know sooner rather than later, so you pushed forward. Sadly, your periods were irregular so you would probably ovulate irregularly. And you weren’t even aware of when you were ovulating because Andy still wanted this to be “natural”.

The second Friday with negative results was clearly taxing on both of you. He decided to end it immediately. That was why you had taken to sneaking pregnancy tests any chance you got. You didn’t like not telling him but you always felt like a failure every time it came back negative. But life went on, that much he made sure of.

The pool was finished and he seemed to like it more than you did. In fact, your liking it extended only as far as getting to see him wet and shirtless. But you were still in there 4 to 5 times a week for 30 minutes after you got home from work on weekdays and early on weekends. Because you did everything you were supposed to do. Because you didn’t want to feel like this was your fault, like there was something you were doing that would prevent this.

He came in one Saturday morning just as you were getting out. “Done?”

“Yeah, I served my time,” you joked. “I should get started on lunch. Any requests?”

“No, whatever sounds good to you.”

You went inside, fully intending to make lunch. But something that just didn’t make sense was how much you craved sex with Andy. It seemed like the more you had, the more you wanted. You guys were always sexual. At the start, after a month or so, every date ended with sex. When you moved in with him, it was more nights than not, even after you got married. But this was every day, numerous times a day.

He was turned on by the idea of getting you pregnant. He was insatiable for that reason. Sex this often wasn’t normal and it probably wasn’t raising your chances of conceiving since you weren’t being too methodical about it, but you were thrilled with this change. You worried about how much sex you would have once you were pregnant anyway, you figured you should start preparing for the long months ahead.

You were only in the kitchen for three minutes, trying to find food that would interest you more than what was currently on your mind. It didn’t work.

You returned to Andy. He was swimming his laps, completely oblivious. You stripped out of your bathing suit where you stood at the edge of the pool. He only made it three more times back and forth before he must have sensed you there.

He turned up, brushing his wet hair out of his face. When he saw you naked, his eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

“Well, unless you want me to wait for you to finish. I could just sit and watch, take care of myself until you can.”

“Here,” he decided. “Now.”

You smirked, sauntering off to the right where the stairs were. He made his way to you just before you descended the last step. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you took your cue to jump up and wrap yourself around him.

He carried you further into the water, lips moving against yours. You clung to his shoulders and your legs locked around his hips. “You are wild and demanding,” he accused.

You scoffed. “Me?”

He pretended to think about it. “Well, I guess it was me who stopped dinner last night, me who couldn’t wait until we left the grocery store, me who had you pull over while we were driving a few days ago, and me who came in here naked—oh, wait—“

You laughed. “Well, I’m just trying to prepare myself for when we’re hardly doing this anymore.”

“When we retire?”

You snorted. “No. You know, when I’m pregnant.”

He scoffed, pressing you against the side of the pool. You felt a hand moving between you, working his shorts out of the way. “You think I’m not going to fuck you when you’re pregnant?”

“Well...I assumed, yeah.”

He nudged your chin with his nose until you tilted your head back, offering him your neck. He kissed you softly as he indelicately pushed into you.

You clutched at his shoulders harder, whining his name.

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to be able to refrain from touching you. Especially while you’re pregnant.”

You angled your head so you could see his face. He looked downright amused at what you were saying.

The pace and pressure of his hips immediately became punishing. He held you tight, hands on your hips as he fucked you. “You don’t even know how hard I get thinking about you carrying my child.”

Maybe it was what he was saying, maybe it was that you had wanted him inside you since you woke up, but it wasn’t taking long to get you there. You brought one hand up to the edge of the pool for a little more support.

Andy began kissing your neck and nipping at your chest. “I think about how beautiful you’re going to look, I think about how I’m going to have you riding me every day.”

You could picture that. Fuck. You were rarely on top now because you loved being underneath him and he loved pinning you down to the mattress, but when you got bigger, you would have to adapt. It didn’t sound as boring as you’d had yourself convinced it was when he said it.

“Every morning before I go to work, I’ll wake you up with my mouth between your legs.”

You let out a shaky breath. “What’s stopping you from doing that now?”

“You,” he promised. “I can barely open my eyes before you’re telling me to get inside you. You’ll be slower when you’re pregnant, less of a predator, more of a prey.”

You scoffed but it became a moan. If he kept talking like this, you were going to come soon.

“Some women are more sensitive when they’re pregnant,” he asserted. “I bet you will be. You’re already so sensitive. I’m going to spend every weekend fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“Andy.” You turned your head toward him and he kissed you. You whimpered when you felt his hand at your cunt, fingers pressing against your clit so gently.

You finished first but he was close behind, turning his head down to groan into your shoulder.

He rode out his high slowly, kissing any part of your skin that was in his reach. He lifted you out of the water, onto the tiled floor surrounding the pool. He kissed both of your knees, then your calves, all while keeping his eyes on you. “Sound like a plan?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Really, I should make lunch.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You headed out, back to the kitchen.

“You’re not getting dressed?”

“Nope.”

Four months, one week, and six days later, you were pregnant. You’d felt weird, it was 3 in the morning, Andy was asleep, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to rest until you found out.

Technically, you hadn’t missed your period yet. Sometimes you started on the 17th, others the 22nd through the 24th. Oh, but there was also the wonderful time you had started on the 5th. That time, you did cry. He might have too, but never in front of you because he was trying to be the most positive man on earth.

You only took two tests, the ones with the least amount of wait time. The results came back positive and for a moment, you just sat there. You had been terrified that it wasn’t going to happen. You worried about how much that would hurt Andy. You also stupidly worried about the possibility that he would leave you over it.

But that didn’t matter anymore. You were pregnant and he was going to be thrilled. After being a little annoyed that you took the test without him, you assumed.

You weren’t sure how to tell him. When to tell him. It was 3 in the morning and he had to work. Maybe after he got home. If you told him when he woke up, he was just going to want to stay home.

Logically, you knew false positives were not the same as false negatives. But it was just like when you were in junior high and you didn’t get your period so you were convinced you were pregnant even though you were very much not having sex. Yes, you were paranoid but you just wanted to be sure. The only thing worse than not getting pregnant would be getting Andy’s hopes up.

You waited until he was at work and then made an appointment. This would also annoy him because he wanted to do extensive research when selecting a doctor. You weren’t robbing him of that, you just wanted to have confirmation. The second you did, you would tell him and start looking at doctors.

You had it scheduled four days out, Thursday. You could get in on your lunch hour. It was odd going and explaining to the nurse your thought process and why you couldn’t schedule a follow-up appointment after the confirmation. She must have thought you were an idiot, you possibly were, but you were a happy idiot.

That night, when Andy arrived home, you were waiting on the couch for him. Once again, unclothed. You’d gotten quite used to being nude, having him undress you every time either of you wanted sex was just ridiculous. There wasn’t a word said as he laid over you on the couch, not bothering to get undressed. He just moved his pants and then he was inside you.

He didn’t move at first, instead, he rubbed your clit until you finished around him.

You draped a leg over his ass. “Andy, fuck me.”

“Not yet, baby.” His fingers circled over your clit again, his eyes fixed on yours and wanting to see pleasure on your face. He was in a mood and that meant the sex was going to be exhausting. Worth it, but very unlike the easy and quick routines you’d gotten used to in all of the chaos of trying to get pregnant.

When he would join you in the shower because usually, you woke up earlier than him even though you went to work later, he would wrap his arms around you all sweet then shove you against the wall and make you come with him. When he would find you making dinner and fuck you over the counter. When you were up later than he wanted so he would just fuck you wherever you were until you were so exhausted that he had to carry you upstairs. No other married people had as much sex as you guys, you were almost certain.

You’d made a complete mess of his pants but he didn’t seem concerned about them. He sat up and set you on his lap, holding you in place as he thrust his hips up. There was always something amazing about sex with him still in his suit. It wasn’t like his clothing left much to the imagination anyway, you could see and feel the muscles in his arms and chest.

He continued fucking you until he was close, then he settled you flat against him and used his fingers to make you come again and again. Until he was sure he had come down enough from his almost-finish. Feeling your pussy move around him, the way you would tighten when you orgasmed, the way you continued to get wetter and wetter, he was addicted.

You grabbed his free hand and placed it on one of your breasts and he closed his mouth around the opposite. Again, he held you up so he had enough room to drive his cock into you, hard and deep, and so painfully slow. It must not have been the best day. He loved being in absolute control of you when he couldn’t be at work.

Once more, just as he was about to finish, and you could tell because his hands would tighten and his hips would start to stutter, he sat you on his lap.

You curled your hand under his jaw, pulling him from your breast up to your mouth. The kiss was sloppy, all tongue and desperate moans from both of you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he directed as he pulled away.

Your fingers instantly dropped to your clit and you began drawing yourself toward another end. He wouldn’t let you stop, not after the first, the second, the third. Your hand was shaking, you were shaking, he had to hold you by the shoulders otherwise you would have fallen back. The entire time, he remained buried in your cunt, hard and not doing a damn thing about it. He was using you to edge himself and that made you impossibly wet.

He repeated this, more times than you could count. He didn’t say a word either, just led your hand down to your clit or used his own when he knew you couldn’t. Sometimes the sex was like this, he was working through something and he didn’t want to talk at first. It was about proving to himself that he had enviable control, and he definitely did because it wasn’t like you made it easy for him.

When he laid you down on the coffee table, he began pounding into you. You could tell when he was almost there because he was getting louder, grunting into your skin, or groaning as he bit down on your shoulder, your breast, your neck.

He pulled out before then and you felt inclined to put a stop to this madness.

“Andy.”

His hand made its way back to your pussy as he stroked his cock with his opposite. Moments later, he was spilling out onto your skin. As he continued fucking you with his fingers, you ran your hands over your stomach, spreading his cum along your body until you reached your breasts. You loved having his cum on you and he loved seeing it on you.

After your orgasm, he sat back on the couch as he worked to catch his breath. “Sorry, that was kind of a waste.”

“Not really.” You continued teasing him with your hands on your breasts and these small mewls that you knew he was already getting worked up over again.

He probably didn’t even realize what you’d said, too focused on watching you pinch and pull on your nipples.

You turned down a few minutes later, meeting his eye.

He kept his eyes on your hands as he spoke. “Wanna get in the shower while I make dinner?”

You moved off the table, legs shaky as you made your way to him. You caught his hand before he could sit you on his lap and sat down on the couch at his side. Leaning over, you took him in your mouth.

“Jesus,” he hissed.

After swallowing as much of him as you could, you set one of his hands on the back of your head. He knew what you wanted.

Holding you in place, he began rolling his hips. It wasn’t too forceful but you could feel him in the back of your throat. He was hard again in a matter of a few moments.

“God, your mouth is fucking perfect, baby.” He was losing his steady pace, his hips jerkier, slower sometimes. “All I could think about today was you. Your beautiful cunt, your fucking mouth. I’ve wanted to see you covered in my cum for so long, but...” he didn’t finish his sentence, you knew why he hadn’t.

You weren’t satisfied until you’d swallowed every drop of him. As you pulled off, he grabbed your hips and brought you onto one of his thighs. He kissed your forehead and began running his fingers through your hair.

“How was work?”

He shrugged. “You know.”

“Rough day?”

“It usually is,” he attempted to dismiss.

“Sounds like you could use good news.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You have good news?”

“Well, I’m pregnant.”

He blinked slowly, then abruptly sat up straight as his hands dropped to your hips. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, okay,” he blurted out. He moved you onto the couch, standing and tucking himself back into his pants. “Do you want to take a test?”

“I already took the test.”

“Without me?” he demanded. “How many?”

“I took two, but I went to the doctor to get it confirmed.”

“Without me?!” he repeated.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanted to make sure.”

“I am mad.” But then he leaned down and started kissing you so you figured he was going to get over it fairly quickly. He pulled away, both hands coming up to your face. “I can’t believe you. How long have you known?”

“I took the test 4 days ago. Went to the doctor today.”

“4 days?!”

“Andy, I didn’t want to get you excited if I wasn’t actually pregnant.”

“Well, can you take another test so I can see it? We have a billion upstairs.”

You scoffed. “Do you want me to? I will.”

“Yeah, kind of. I know it’s stupid—“

You shook your head. “It’s not, I can do it.”

He got on his knees on the floor, gently pressing you back to the couch. “I knew it would happen, I just didn’t think it was going to happen this soon.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still okay? You still want this?”

“Of course.”

He leaned forward, kissing your throat all the way down to your stomach. You shivered at the sensation of his beard prickling against your skin. He continued kissing you and you ran your fingers through his hair.

He turned up to you, lips still pressed just below your navel. “It’ll be a girl.”

You scoffed. “Andy, you don’t know that.”

“I do,” he insisted.

“You never said you wanted a girl.”

“I want any baby you can give me.”

“Even if it was a demon baby that turned out to be a cannibal?”

“As long as it had your smile, yes.”

You snorted. “And your eyelashes!”

“And your cheekbones.”

You ran your finger along the bridge of his nose. “Your nose.”

“Is it red like all the other demon babies?”

“You’re in too good of a mood.”

“Impossible, no mood is too good considering you’re carrying my daughter.”

“Stop,” you scolded half-heartedly. “Look, you have a total of at least 15 weeks before you find out whether it’s a boy or a girl.”

“You have 15 weeks.”

“Andrew Barber,” you scoffed, “stop.”

“Let’s bet.”

“No!” You laughed.

“Scared?”

“Don’t even try that with me.”

He shrugged. “You sound scared. I never knew that the woman who gave me a hand job in a movie theatre would be such a baby—“

“Andy, if you don’t stop talking, all of this pregnant sex you’ve been fantasizing about is not going to happen.”

With a small smile, he shut his mouth.

“Upstairs? You want me to take the test?”

He scooped you up off the couch and headed toward your bedroom.

The next day, Andy was already working on all those grand promises he’d made. You woke with your calves draped over his shoulders, his lips wrapped around your clit, his hands folded over your hips to hold you down, and his beautiful blue eyes looking up at you.

Then he wanted to go shopping. He’d already called into work, not even bothering to lie about being sick. He was thrilled to let Lynn know that you were pregnant and apparently, she knew how big of a deal that was so she let him off the hook after making him promise to take pictures of what he was intending to do to the nursery.

He wanted to paint. You had wanted to leave it white. Gendered colors were stupid anyway. He’d said the same at the start, but he was currently waving pink swatches in your face.

“Andy, what if it’s a boy?”

He shrugged. “Then he’s going to have a pink nursery. Pink sky or pink pearl?”

You spared the colors a glance. “Pink pearl. Why can’t we just do one of those gender-neutral colors?”

“Because yellow is ugly and purple is loud.”

“Green.”

“Reminds me of spring.”

“Orange.”

“Pumpkins.”

“Red.”

“Blood.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, why not dark blue? I was kind of hoping we could do, like, a constellation theme.”

He thought for a moment. “Let’s do both. But instead of blue, we’ll use pink.”

“Okay,” and you were excited again. “You are insane, though. Just so you know.”

“Hardly. Do you know how behind I am? I wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. I haven’t found the doctor yet, I’m just barely starting on the nursery. We don’t have a name, we don’t have a crib. Essentially, we have nothing.”

Was he seriously already stressing about this? And that probably wasn’t even a fourth of what was going through his mind.

You reached over, finger tapping on the only pink color you’d seen that you liked enough to put on the walls. “We have a paint color. If you like it.”

He glanced between you and the color twice before nodding. “Okay.”

Walking through the aisles, you decided to take over. You threw all the tools he could possibly need in the cart and didn’t stop until you spotted the glitter. You stared straight at it until he got curious enough about what you were so focused on that he made his way to you. Adding glitter to paint was difficult, you knew because you had attempted before. Your friend’s sister’s kid was turning 7 and wanted to redesign her bedroom and you tagged along because glitter. It ended in tears and Andy buying you ice cream to make you feel better.

He sighed. “You want the glitter?”

“I simply cannot live without it.”

With another sigh, a much more resigned one, he started tossing in bags of the glitter additive. “You know you’re not helping, right?”

“What? Because of last time—?“

“No, because you’re pregnant.”

“Andy, it’s not even a baby yet. It’s a fetus. Can’t I just do what I would have always done up until the point that I can’t get an abortion?”

“That is not funny.”

You snorted. “It kind of is. Stop worrying.” You rolled onto your toes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Otherwise, you’re going to look like a grandfather instead of a father. And hey, I’d still be pretty attracted to you but we have more kids to make, so calm down.”

He banned you from the house. Yep, you had a total of one friend who was currently married and interested in children. That was the friend he wanted you to focus on, not the others, he said, that they meant well, but couldn’t possibly be supportive at a time like this. In reality, he never liked most of your friends. You kept them out of college and he always thought they liked to go out and drink too much.

Your friend was excited when you asked if you could stay with her for a bit. Andy wanted to paint immediately and then make sure all lingering traces of the paint were adequately gone from the house before you returned.

Painting took two days. He called you both mornings, brought you lunch at work, took you out to dinner, and made sure to call you before you went to bed.

Then he checked you both into a hotel for 3 days. You had to force him to go to work on Monday, pointing out that he really needed to be making money. You loved your job but it wasn’t as if the salary was sufficient to raise a baby on.

Andy let you revel in the beauty of the nursery up until the weekend. The constellations were a soft champagne color and the glitter was mixed in perfectly, evenly. It looked professionally done, but you weren’t surprised. He was perfect and everything he did for you and his child would be perfect as well.

Next, his mission was to find a crib and pick the doctor. Something that kept him on his laptop most of Saturday while you slept soundly next to him. You were already beginning to feel tired and you weren’t sure if that was because of him or your baby.

Time went by in a blur. He’d fallen into a routine effortlessly. He would wake you up as he told you he would, eating you out, then he would get you in the shower with him, and make sure you ate a good breakfast before he headed off to work. He would call at lunch, just to make sure you weren’t too exhausted to be at work. You always felt inclined to tell him stories about working pregnant women every time. He would come home and fix dinner and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. At night, after he thoroughly fucked you, which honestly didn’t take much, you would fall asleep together. It was a great first two months.

At the start of your 3rd month, you were already showing. It seemed like it was the best day of Andy’s life. In fact, he wanted to start a scrapbook. He wanted to document everything and you didn’t have the heart to tell him he was absolutely crazy. Besides, it was pretty cute.

It was around this time that you had the most absurd craving for almond butter. He loved almond butter so it was always in the house and you never once wanted any part of it. Randomly, you thought apples and almond butter sounded great and you finished the entire jar before he got home. Something that amused him greatly, he promised he would get more on his way home the next day. That new obsession lasted for a week and a half, and you had yourself convinced that it was going to be the worst of it.

No. Swap out apples for Cheetos. Seriously, you wanted to eat Cheetos and almond butter. You were downright ashamed so you didn’t even ask him to get you anything, you just snuck out to the store before he got home one night and bought yourself a sufficient stash that you kept hidden in the very back of the pantry. This wouldn’t work for the entire pregnancy but until you were further along, you intended to hide these horrible cravings.

Well, as well as you could. He was anticipating more after the almond butter so he always texted and asked if you wanted him to bring something home. So far, your genius combinations had been tacos and chocolate, macaroni and cheese and sour patch kids, cashews and Doritos, French fries and hot chocolate, and orange chicken and lemonade. Andy drove everywhere at any given hour. If there was a store open, he would go. If it was closed and you couldn’t wait that long, he would go to a 24-hour fast food place. He’d started stocking your favorites as well, and hiding them until you really needed them.

The day before you were set to find out the sex of the baby, he went shopping. You were far too tired to try to leave the house, especially since Andy could shop. You thought he would come home with more for the nursery. Since he’d found the crib, he’d started looking at bedding and the other matching furniture. You knew it would be extreme since you weren’t there to stop him. What you did not expect was that he would sneak in and take full advantage of your unconsciousness. If he hadn’t dropped something, you never would have caught him.

When you found him in the nursery, he was in the closet. Hanging up clothing. Pink clothing. For a girl. “Andy.”

“We are having a girl,” he stated simply.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered to yourself.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be, I’m glad I’m witnessing this insanity.”

He gave you a flat look, fully turning to you with a tiny black bodysuit with white hearts printed on it. “This could be for a boy, I don’t know what you’re so upset about it.”

You smirked. “Anything can be for a boy if you try hard enough. Look, if you wanted a girl so bad—“

“I wanted a baby.”

“Andy, you bought girl clothes!”

“Because we are having a girl.”

“You’re going to have this child alone if it doesn’t stop making me crave the most ridiculous things.”

He hummed. “Is that why you’re up here?” Smirking, he made his way to you. As usual, his hands went straight to your stomach, he had to feel any movement and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t. “What do you want?”

You scoffed tiredly. “A lot of things. Yogurt, peach and blueberry. Something lemon, lemon squares, lemon cake. A lot of pasta, I really want spaghetti. And despite your incorrigible behavior, I want you.”

“You do mean sexually, right? Because I read sometimes pregnant women want to eat things that aren’t food—“

You placed your hand flat over his mouth. “I take it back, I just want the food.” You turned away to escape from the room but he was right on your tail. “Andy, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you the food,” he promised. “Let’s just make a quick stop to the bedroom first.”

You didn’t put up much resistance as he began leading you that way. He had been correct about one thing, you were so sensitive. You’d given up on wearing bras or underwear, and your clothes had to be loose. Especially given the dreams you were having. Much to his simultaneous joy and dismay, you would send him pictures and videos of certain sexual situations at least twice a week just a couple of hours before he got home.

That cocky bastard was correct. A fact that had him beaming the remainder of the appointment, all the way home, and even in his sleep. You weren’t upset that you were having a girl. It wasn’t that you thought you had a right to be picky, but very simply, you wanted a girl more than you wanted a boy. You weren’t even sure why. Gender wasn’t real and it wouldn’t upset you if someday in the future that little girl told you that she wasn’t a girl at all. Logically, you knew there was no point. But you didn’t have to be logical, not while you were carrying a baby.

Even though Andy was annoyingly smug about the whole thing, you were excited. You finally got to take a look at the closet and discovered yesterday was not his first time buying clothing. You wanted to be mad at him but he had the softest look on his face. This was everything he wanted and you liked that you were able to provide it for him.

At 5 months, he absolutely needed to feel her kick. If he wasn’t fucking you or feeding you, or shopping, or at work, his hands were on your stomach. One of his favorite things, when you got out of the shower, was covering you in lotion, something you were supposed to do to prevent stretch marks, not that either of you much cared. During that time, he would speak to her, try to get her to give him any kind of movement. Or sometimes, you would wake up and he was just level with your stomach, whispering things to her.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d felt what you presumed were “flutters” and maybe one good kick a couple of nights ago, but you weren’t certain. You sort of enjoyed that she didn’t just give in to his murmurings of “come on, baby, give daddy a kick”, or “if you kick, I’ll never tell you no”. That line was dropped from rotation after you pointed out you would be holding him to that when she wanted to start dating.

She seemed to like his voice, you could admit. Sometimes it wasn’t him that woke you up, it was her responding to him. They weren’t fast movements, they weren’t particularly forceful either, but they were there. You didn’t understand how he’d yet to feel anything. And since you were still telling him you hadn’t really felt anything, he brought it up at the next appointment. The look of pure horror on his face when the doctor told him the likelihood of fathers never feeling any movement was sad, in a funny way. Kind of. Being pregnant had made you a little meaner.

He was pouting about it all night but you told him you were sure he would feel something. You told him you wouldn’t have her until she kicked for him. He knew you couldn’t control that, obviously, but it made him feel better.

At 5 months and 2 weeks, it happened. You were failing at staying awake and trying to read a book when you felt an abrupt tap. You startled awake, discovering the book on the floor. That had to be it, you just dropped it on yourself. But then it happened again, a bit harder and a tad painful.

“Andy!”

He bolted to your side in a matter of seconds. Seriously, he had to have broken world records with that trick. “What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed his hands, pulling his arms over the back of the couch, and placed them over your stomach.

“Are you okay? Do we need to go—?”

“Shut up,” you ordered.

After a couple of minutes, he sighed. “You felt an actual kick?”

“Sorry, she tends to move more when I’m so still.”

He moved around the couch and sat on the floor. “It’s going to happen. I’m not going to feel her.”

“No,” you argued. “Are you working?”

“No, just scaring myself with more books.”

You held your hand out to him and he helped you up. You crouched down to pick up your dropped book and handed it off to him. “Read it, she seems to like your voice... I’ll fall asleep, see if that works.”

You were settled in bed next to Andy, his one hand pressed to the side of your belly as he read the book aloud. You were trying to keep still but also trying to stay awake, you wanted to see his face when he felt it. That was out of the question, Andy’s voice was like honey, or a fall morning, or the feeling of being home after a long day. You were out after a few paragraphs.

When you woke up, you weren’t sure why. You saw Andy hovering over you fully with wet eyes and the softest smile you had ever seen. “Baby?”

“I felt her.”

You scoffed. “I told you that you would.”

He kissed all over your stomach, lingering each time. “Maybe she finally knows I’m her daddy.”

“She always knew.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Truth?” He glanced up at you and you explained, “I’ve been feeling her for a while now. That’s why I knew she liked your voice... I have some bad news, Andy. It seems like she already knows you’re wrapped around her finger and she is going to enjoy making you jump through hoops.”

“Just like her mom.”

You smirked. “Guess so.” You reached out to touch his face. “What are you thinking?”

He shrugged. “Every morning, I wake up and I’m so sure that my life couldn’t get any better but every day, it does. I didn’t know it was possible to love as much as I love you and as much as I love her.”

You turned to mush instantly.

“I didn’t have this growing up, you know. I didn’t have a dad but I’m going to do it right. I’m not going to be like him. I don’t understand how he could just walk away from his child, I would never do that. I could never do that. Or from you, my beautiful wife. For a long time, while we were trying, I just hated him so much. More than usual. I hated that we had to try so hard and that he was given a family that he just tossed away.”

“Well, he was an idiot. You are truly the best man I will ever know, possibly the best man that there is. And you’re going to be the best father, too... Okay, maybe second best after Ryan Reynolds, but still pretty high up there.”

He scoffed.

Feeling her kick was another addition to his day. Lips and fingers brought you to orgasm before taking you to the shower where he carefully wrapped his arms around your shoulders and fucked you from behind. He would dry you off, lay you out on the bed, and cover you in lotion and pay a lot of attention to your feet. His hands all over your body never failed to make you want him, but he had to go to work. You both knew if you started, he was going to end up being late. After breakfast, he would say goodbye to you, then he would lean down and ask his little girl for any kind of movement. She’d began to indulge him at least twice a day, when he was leaving and when he would say goodnight.

He’d always let you sleep in on Saturdays and even stayed with you for a great deal of it. Mostly because he knew you could sense when he wasn’t in bed and that would wake you. But with time, you were becoming less tired. Not entirely, you still were out like the dead at 9 every night, but sometimes you woke up actually feeling rested.

Saturdays were what he intended them to be. This particular Saturday had him wrapped around you, hands flat to your stomach, chin atop your head. You had another fantastic dream, one where you weren’t pregnant.

You loved your baby and you loved that you were able to carry her but you missed how hard he fucked you sometimes. You just couldn’t wait until he could pull your hair, choke you, spank you, tie you up, all of the things he loved to do to you. More importantly, you couldn’t wait until he was on top of you, pinning you down and leaving bruises.

Those dreams were why you woke up wet more often than not. Why you never hesitated to take his hand and slide it lower but you didn’t need that today, you just needed him. For you, he’d adapted to sleeping without clothes. It was easier that way and he’d never complain about you doing the same. Besides, the heat was getting the best of you the bigger you got.

You reached back with your heel, tapping his shin several times. “Andy?”

He hummed.

“It’s Saturday. Wake up.”

He scoffed, eyes still closed. “Yeah, it’s Saturday. Sleep in.”

“Fuck me,” you whined.

“I wish I could say that wasn’t enough to get me hard.”

“You were already hard,” you assured. You could feel him against your hip.

He grabbed your thigh and draped it over him. “You know, my love, when you’re not carrying our baby, I am going to have a lot of fun making you wait for it. I am indulging you now simply because you are giving me the greatest gift anyone could. But when I can tie you up, when I can fuck you, that is what I’m looking forward to.”

You moaned as he unhurriedly slipped inside you. “I miss your hands around my neck, that’s what I’m looking forward to.”

“So, I suspect you’ll continue being a brat long past your due date.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” you taunted.

“Not right now, just you wait. You’ve been bad ever since you told me you were pregnant. Laying on the couch, naked. I know you had been touching yourself. I’ve been keeping track and your ass is probably going to be getting spanked up until you’re pregnant again.”

You snorted, turning your head back slightly. “Oh, and is that going to be immediately after?”

He kissed along your jaw. “Up to you.”

“You want another girl?”

“Yeah,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You scoffed.

“But I wouldn’t be let down by a boy,” he promised. He started delicately rolling his hips, one hand coming to your center to rub your clit.

Watching you fall apart like this was something else. Andy found you utterly beautiful, your cheeks would flush, your eyes would fill with such desperation for him that made him feel wanted. The moans that spilled from your mouth were sometimes animalistic, inspired only by how much you needed him to give you what only he could.

Now that you were pregnant, he could cover you in his cum. He always loved doing that, an interesting discovery he’d made very early in your relationship. After you decided you wanted to try for a baby, he would often come inside you and tell you to leave it there, which was pleasing as well. But this. This was simplistic, classic beauty.

He pulled out, fingers filling you instead. Your hips moved frantically, seeking the pressure of his palm against your clit. Angling your head back, his lips hungrily met yours. You reached down and took him in your hand, he turned his head slightly to hiss a curse.

Once he looked at you again, you pretended all you wanted was an innocent kiss. Something you kept up until he was just about to come, and then you bit down hard on his bottom lip. He had no idea how to retaliate and seeing the frustration play out on his face was almost as satisfying as your finish.

You laid next to him patiently as he came down, anticipating his reaction. It was always funnier when he had time to dwell on the situation. For several more weeks, you had complete permission to be as bratty as you wanted. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t been taking advantage of that more.

He turned his head to you and you smirked. “That’s going on top of the list. You will regret that.”

“The look on your face was so worth it.”

“Teasing is also going on the list,” he warned.

The day your water broke was just a normal day. Of course, not your due date. No, this baby had been torturing you since the very start, why stop now? You expected it was just something in the Barber blood. Strong-willed, complicated, and the tendency to be a complete pain in the ass.

Regardless, your husband was at work. If everything went well for him today, there was one last case that he was going to tie up, and then he was yours and hers until he was ready to go back. You figured that wouldn’t be for a long while and that was exciting.

You would think that this would have been too much by now. You guys didn’t really have your friends, or regular company that you kept. No one had been in your home, save for Lynn who you insisted he invite over so she could see the nursery in person.

She’d also given you a gift and you wanted to receive it from her in person. You knew there was a special friendship she had with Andy. A woman in a position of power, you figured she didn’t have time for many. And Andy wasn’t a typical friend, a low-maintenance guy who was kind and smart. They just went together well, and you wanted to encourage him to let her in at least a little.

He answered your call on the first ring because he’d been glued to his phone for these past three months every time that he had to leave the house. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Are you busy?” you worked to keep your voice level. No need to rile him up before he could get home.

“No, not really. I just stepped out of a meeting with Lynn. We were talking about the last case she thought of giving me. She’s wondering if three days is—”

“She should give it to someone else.” You had taken to rubbing your stomach, mentally pleading with your baby. Please, baby, just wait for your daddy. I’ll never hear the end of this if he doesn’t see it.

“Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m fine…but my water broke—”

“What?!” he yelled. You distantly heard him yelling then, “Lynn, I gotta go! My baby is on the way and she was a bit of a jerk at the start, wouldn’t kick for me. I think she’s missing all those times she killed my soul and I’m terrified she’s going to show up before I make it.”

You could only imagine the look on Lynn’s face. Or the look on his face. A cross between terrified and thrilled, he probably looked like a serial killer.

“Can you wait for me to get home?”

“Did you just call our daughter a jerk?”

He huffed. “Baby.”

“I think so. I haven’t started having any contra—nope! No, there it is.”

He talked you to through breathing until it subsided. “Okay, listen, this is very important. I’m across town right now and there’s going to be some traffic at this hour—”

“Please don’t drive crazy.”

“I won’t, I promise. But first, I need you to get the timer…where are you?”

“On the couch.”

“Great, get the timer under the table.”

“There isn’t a timer under the table.”

“There is, I taped it there.”

“For what?” you pressed.

“This, obviously.”

“But why would you tape it?”

“There are about twenty timers all over the house, hidden so you couldn’t find them and move then.”

With a deep sigh, you leaned forward slowly to search under the top of the table for the timer. Yup, he was being serious.

“Okay, just keep track of them. And now, the second thing, I need you to promise me something. The neighbors, if you need them to drive you, they will.”

“What?”

“I’ve been creating these backup plans ever since you told me you were pregnant.”

“Oh, come on,” you complained. “I thought you were being nice to them because you liked them.”

“I mean, it’s not as if anyone in our neighborhood would ever say no to taking you. I just had to make sure that they were good drivers.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You had hoped that having a child was making him see the importance of social ties. These people lived by you, they were all having kids, most of them would probably end up in the same school.

“Honey?”

“I thought you wanted them to be our married friends. She just had her baby 8 months ago—”

He snorted. “Yeah, in addition to that other one.”

“Are you talking about Charles?”

“I know he’s 5, but he’s evil—”

“Andy!”

“Baby, listen. I’m getting in the car now. If you need to get to the hospital before I make it there, go left first. If they are not home, then go to the right. Left then right. Left first, right is the second resort.”

“You dragged the Johnsons into this, too?”

“Dragged ‘em all in, baby. Gotta go, stay calm and don’t move unless you need to. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You hung up and laid back against the couch. It felt like all there was to do was wait for your next contraction, something you did not enjoy the first time. They were just going to get worse, you needed your husband here.

You heard Andy pull up a little over half an hour later. He charged into the house like a maniac, showing up at your side, hands immediately going to your stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve had a couple of contractions,” you reported. “They don’t last long and they’re pretty far apart.”

“Okay, let’s go.” He helped you off the couch, bringing the timer along with him. He let you control the pace to the car. You’d gotten bigger than you thought you would and walking three steps was nearly a minute-long ordeal.

Halfway there, you noticed the bag over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a bag in the car?”

“I packed the car bags sometime last week. Who knows what state of mind I was in? I can’t trust my competence.”

“Are you implying that there has been a moment during these 40 weeks that you haven’t been out of your mind?”

“I’m going to pay for this neighbors bit, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” you promised.

Labor wasn’t a long process. Painless as many women had told you it was? Fuck no. It hurt, a lot. But Andy was there and he was all you needed. He talked you through the breathing, he never stopped touching you, your arms, your face, your stomach. He liked to make plans when neither of those things worked. He reminded you about all the great things you guys would get to do with children, and it was enough to get you through it.

You thought you knew what love looked like, because you loved Andy so much. But when he saw your baby for the first time after she’d been set in his arms, he looked at her in such an intense, breath-taking way.

Any uncertainty you might have been playing with in your mind was gone in that second. You’d gotten a bit paranoid over time. Wondering if you guys were just going to have the same marriage as everyone else. Like, you started in love and ended with affairs and really hurtful words. But you knew then that this was not a normal family. This was true, unconditional love.

#andy barber x reader #still writing i swear #another coming up soon #my writing

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thepeanutbutterwizard · 4 years

Text

Ninjago/Avatar au Pt6

The second half of Book 2 (hopefully)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)

So Garm finally reads the letter from Wu. It starts off as a normal pseudo-journal entry, but after it mentions finding the Garms old armor, but no body, it turns into more of a normal letter. Wu says that he’s missed his brother since he was banished, and that he hopes that they’ll be able to see eachother again soon if Garm is alive, and ends with Wu saying that he normally burns the letters he writes to Garm, so that no-one else finds them, but that he feels hopeful that this one could actually get to him. It’s touching stuff.

Lloyd picks up earthbending almost immediately, unlike Aang. The element Lloyd is going to struggle to learn is fire (if you don’t count his airbending being self-taught. He picked up airbending really, really fast, but bc he’s been making stuff up and trying to do what Maya did with her waterbending [Maya’s had decades to hone her style tho, not just three-ish years, but he’s like someone learning ballet only from YouTube, for only a couple of months] since there are no more airbenders [or so they think, bc none of them saw Morro airbend at the North Pole]), and I’ll get into why that is when it comes up. They haven’t had Garm start to teach Lloyd any firebending bc they’re trying to go in the order as much as they can, but Garm has finally convinced Kai to learn more than just the basics, and he picks it up really quickly.

Meanwhile, Morro is taking care of an injured Wu (and accidentally making him suffer through poorly-made tea). Now, Morro is onboard with Wu wanting to leave the Fire Nation behind; unlike Zuko, Morro isn’t trying to win back the favor of some distant parent, the only family he’s ever known is Wu, and he’s not about to abandon Wu for a bunch of people who would probably kill him as soon as they could no matter what he did for them, and Harumi made it clear that no-one in the Fire Nation is going to be extending them any mercy.

Once Wu wakes up, Morro does yell at him for doing something as stupid as taking a hit from a well-trained firebender to protect a stranger (Wu hadn’t gotten around to telling Morro ‘hey, you know that guy with the big burn scar who’s traveling with the Avatar? That’s my dead-but-not-really-dead older brother. Pls stop trying to stab him’, and Morro wasn’t there when Garm revealed his identity in the North Pole), until Wu tells him that Garm is his brother. This leads to Morro yelling out ‘You mean to tell me that the Avatar is my cousin?!?!’ And that how Wu learns that Lloyd is Garms son (’wait, what?’ ‘Have you really gone this long without noticing that the Avatar calls your brother his dad?’ ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind, give me a break!’), and now he thinks that Garm and Maya are married with three kids, one of whom is the Avatar.

They make their way to Ba Sing Se, with the help of the White Lotus. Wu isn’t the leader of them (he isn’t super old in this au, imagine what he looked like in S9, with the mustache), but he is a fairly respected member. I still haven’t come up with a Jet character who would work, and I am open to suggestions. If I do find a good character, they will definitely throw hands with Morro (mb Shade? Just cut out the romance subplot in S1 and pick a couple of EM’s to be the other freedom fighters?). And yes, Wu does get his tea shop in the upper ring (Steep Wisdom), and Morro tries to be happy and supportive, but even though he is fine leaving the Fire Nation with Wu, it does still feel like he wasted years of his life, both in chasing the Avatar and just trying to prove himself to everyone back in the Palace, so he’s pretty grumpy.

Now back to Team Avatar: at Maya and Garms insistence the kids have been picking out their little mini-vacations. They know that they only have a limited amount of time before the comet arrives, but Garm and Maya want these kids to be able to be, y’know, kids, at least a little bit, in spite of the fact that they’re growing up in a war-torn world. Kai want’s to check out that glacier-spring place by the desert, it’s kinda underwhelming, but they get fruity drinks out of it. This whole time Kai and Cole have been getting closer to each other. Kai feels a little guilty, like he’s betraying Zane’s memory, but talking to Maya and Garm about it does help him start to feel better, and it helps his over-protectiveness start to abate a little.

Jay wants to pick a really cool mini-vacation to impress Nya, and he asks the people who are in the glacier place if there’s any place around those parts, and ends up learning that about a year ago some lady showed up saying something about a huge spirit library in the desert that she was looking for. They never saw her again after that, and figure that she must have died out in the desert. When pressed (and payed) one of the artistically inclined staff members roughly recreated the sketch of the library, and vaguely remembered the area on the map she said she was going to search, and with that Jay has his mini-vacation picked out.

They set off and find the library. Cole chooses to stay outside with Ultra (who can’t fit inside) bc he thinks they’ll be safer if the only earthbender stays outside incase something goes wrong, and if they need to get out of there fast he’d only slow them down with his legs. Everybody else heads into the library and meet Wan Chi Tong (did I spell that right? I’m too lazy to check), who agrees to let them use the library if they 1) don’t intend to use the contents of the library against anyone else and 2) contribute something to his library.

Lloyd and Nya both use their wanted posters (they both thought they were awesome [Lloyd bc he’s 13 and Nya bc you can’t convince me that Nya wouldn’t be thrilled to have a wanted poster bc she’s been fucking with a tyrannical regime] and incredibly accurate considering the art had to have been done by someone using other people’s descriptions, and they totally intend on framing and hanging at least a few of their posters up in their rooms when all this is over), Kai has a copy of a poem that Zane wrote for him, Garm has his brothers letter (he doesn’t want to give it up, but he has nothing else), Jay has a blueprint from one of his inventions, and Maya has a copy of a story in a series that Koko had brought back to the South Pole over the years. Wan Chi Tong comments that about a year ago a researcher had arrived and had offered him another part of the the same series. He mentions that they should be careful, as she never left, and has been primarily researching the Avatar.

Everyone has an idea of who this mysterious researcher could be (except Jay), but they decide to be cautious all the same, just incase she isn’t who they think she is. They all start discreetly searching for anything that could be used to help them fight the Fire Nation, and they end up finding and empty placard saying something about ‘the Darkest Day in Fire Nation History’, but when they go to check part of the section on Fire Nation (that library was enormous, y’all cannot tell me that Zhao was able to destroy absolutely everything that the library had on the Fire Nation. It could only have been the last few decades/mb centuries of Fire Nation history), as well as a campsite that was full of scrolls having to do with the Avatar and different bending techniques (and a few misc scrolls about random things like cooking, engineering, etc). As they’re poking around the campsite, who else comes around the corner but Koko!

She has her nose buried in a scroll as she’s walking, so she doesn’t notice them all until Lloyd happily calls out ‘Mom!’, and goes in for a hug. Koko drops the scroll and has a happy reunion with her son and husband, as well as with Maya, Kai, and Nya, and she and Jay are introduced to each other. Koko explains that she’s been able to stay in the library so long was bc she managed to get the fox assistants to like her enough to start bringing her food and water. She also explains that she’s been doing nonstop research into the Avatar State, the Air Nomads and airbending, and the Fire Nation (though she’s really quiet about that part so they don’t catch Wan Chi Tongs attention and ire) and shows them that planetarium thing and that she discovered the eclipse. (How did she make it out to the library without a flying companion or something? SHe’s just that much of a badass.)

Koko had been saving up supplies and charting a course out of the desert, and planning to leave the library as soon as she could, but now that they’ve showed up with Ultra she can just grab her things and go. Someone, probably Jay, gets a little too vocal about how they have a chance to beat the Fire Nation, and cue Wan Chi Tong sinking the library and trying to add them to his ‘collection of specimen’. Garm and Koko are a dynamic duo, with Garm distraction the angry spirit while Koko gathers all of her scrolls and supplies together while Maya gets the kids to the exit.

Meanwhile, Cole is holding up the library, and trying to help Ultra fend off the sandbenders that showed up to capture and sell the dragon. Cole is able to put up a bit more of a fight than Toph was (meaning that he was able to get one or two good hits in) bc being in the desert doesn’t impair his vision (the sand does tank his mobility just as much as it would anyone with prosthetic legs tho), but he isn’t able to stop them or even hold them off long enough for everyone else to get out. Cole, despite being initially afraid of the large dragon, had quickly grown to be one of Ultras favorite people in their group (like, third favorite. Kai will never admit that he’s jealous), and is pretty upset that he wasn’t able to save him. More on Ultra later.

So Lloyd is really upset about losing his companion, just as much as Aang was. He doesn’t act out (for lack of a better word) as intensely as Aang, since Ultra wasn’t the last thing he had left of his people like Appa was for Aang, but Lloyd is still rightfully pissed off. He takes off shakily on his glider, leaving everyone behind before trying to search for Ultra and the sandbenders, ignoring his families protests. Koko starts working on getting them out of the desert using the route she had plotted out (using the sun and shadows to orient them and get started in the right direction), and starts planing out how long her food and water (she had the good sense to bring those from the library) will last between all of them. The answer is: not long enough.

Kai (and mb Jay too) is the one who has the bright idea to drink the cactus juice, bc while Kai, like Sokka, (and Jay tbh) is smart enough to know that drinking a strange liquid out of an unfamiliar plant is a bad idea,but the fact that it is a stupid idea doesn’t stop him. Wait, y’know what? Jay definitely tries the cactus juice, but instead of acting as out-of-it and inebriated as Kai does, he acts like he does in S9, weirdly chill and disconnected from reality. He’s still tripping balls, but he’s reacting to it differently from Kai. Cole just ends up carrying Kai piggy-back, even though the sand makes it harder for him to move (he��s crushing, and he’s the only one [adults included] whose physically strong enough to carry him for long periods of time) (also Kai awkwardly and drunkenly flirts with him. Everyone pretends not to notice for Coles sake) and everyone else takes turns holding onto Jays wrist and leading him through the desert or else he would have wandered off and died.

Lloyd gets back to them, landing hard in the sand, holding back tears bc even though he’s upset and could use a good cry he knows that they need to conserve as much water as they can. He’s got his family there to comfort him (even if Kai and Jay are kinda incapacitated atm), which does help him a bit, but he’s still rightfully upset. They find the abandoned sandbender skipper thing, find the vulturewasp hive, and come across the sandbenders. Cole is able to pinpoint the sandbender (no idea who this guy would be, Ninjago character wise) who lead the others to take Ultra via his voice bc Cole a) was trained in a myriad of performing arts thanks to his father, primarily singing b) has perfect pitch and c) never forgets a voice bc of that.

Lloyd goes full Avatar State, but is comforted and calmed down by his parents while everyone else books it. The sandbenders tell them that they sold Ultra to some guys who were going to take him to Ba Sing Se, and then they take them out of the desert (with the sandbenders getting the Death Glare from all of Team Avatar the whole way. Koko totally punches the sandbender who lead the others to steal Ultra once they’re out of the desert.)

They make their way to Ba Sing Se on foot, with Lloyd trying to get a handle on his emotions (and worrying everyone in the process), and they run into a family with an expecting mother/wife (I am also taking suggestions for who these characters could be. I’m pretty tired while typing this so I can’t think of anyone) and try and get on a ferry to Ba Sing Se. Cole, whose father is well known and wealthy, uses that fact, his double amputee status (he ‘accidentally’ slips out of one of his prosthetics. Kai catches him before he hits the ground), and his acting skills to get them tickets without passports.

And we get best girl Pixal back! She helps Team Avatar help the pregnant family go through the Serpents Pass, and it goes pretty similar to cannon, except instead of a situation where Sokka is overprotective of Suki, Jay picks up on how much Pixal likes Nya, and sees that Nya, his crush, reciprocates those feelings, and gets a bit passive-aggressive w/everyone, but Pixal especially. It doesn’t last long, bc Jay is a hormonal teenager who realizes he’s being a dick fairly quickly, but it does help fizzle his crush on Nya a bit (sorry again to any hardcore Jaya shippers who were hoping for that in this au, but it’s really not my cup of tea).

They also help deliver the couples baby, but Maya and Koko are the ones helping take care of that. Team Avatar get to the outer wall, just to see a huge Fire Nation drill heading closer and closer to the wall, ready to start tearing through it...

#ninjago #ninjago au #ninjago avatar au

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jawllines · 5 years

Note

vamp harry vamp harry vamp harry but aLSO i saw an anon suggested a super cute update from the tattoo h fic where they get into a fight and yn doesn’t talk to him and h is all sad and pouty bc he just wants a cuddle now and realized he’s wrong and I NEED THAT now pls

YOU KNOW I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO POST THE WEDDING BLURB DIDN’T I? I WILL POST IT UNDER THE CUT

“Harry when’s the last time you went to a wedding?”

“1840.” Harry answered without a second thought, frowning down at the carrot he was chopping.

Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to that, no matter how many times he mentions the various years in which he was inhabiting a spot on the planet when Y/N’s grandparents weren’t even a glimmer in their own parent’s eyes. Understandably, this quick response caught her off guard, her brows dipping downward and a gaze overwrought with confusion as she wiggled herself in her spot on the counter, “Whose?”

“Queen Victoria and Prince Albert; I wore a beautiful tailored original flared frock coat -- reckon m’the one who brought it into style, everyone gives Albert the bloody credit -- and my date wore this gorgeous silk satin off the shoulder dress,” he takes a look to her, “Not a real date mind you, her father paid me a lump some of money to take her with me so she could get courted and sadly my little human wasn’t there to accompany me.” He runs his finger down the sides of the blade, swiping off any diced carrot that clung to it down to the cutting board, “Lovely reception, I stole a dance with her.”

Y/N grins, seeing him smiling fondly at the thought of it and she’s positively elated. She’d been rather nervous to bring a wedding up to him -- not because she wanted one herself, no, at least not right now. However, she got a costly parchment paper invitation to her friend Caroline from Sophomore year film studies (one of those where they were really close then, and they simply just fell out of touch apart from a spontaneous conversation every now and again) wedding. She figures because she’d been the person to set them up with limited help from Niall who was more concerned with the fact that he hadn’t lost his virginity at the time so “Why should I help someone else get their dick wet, huh?” But it had worked out well. She always liked their pictures together and felt a small glimmer of pride when she saw that they were still together since she was the matchmaker of the century.

“Welllllll, we were invited to a wedding! Minus the frock coats though,” he slides the carrots from the cutting board into a bowl so he could add it all together and mix it, “Plus, I haven’t gotten to get a new dress for anything in a long while and I’m kinda itching to spend money on something cute.”

Harry turns to face her, that permanent furrow planted deep in his brow, “I bloody hate weddings.” He stated plainly and Y/N’s face warps to match his own.

“What?” She nearly cries out, “But you just said --”

“There’s a reason the last wedding I went to was 1840, Little human.” He shakes his head, moving to chopped carrots to the broccoli, diced onions, ginger root, halved green beans, ginger root and garlic; he was making her a Ginger Veggie Stir-fry (he’s still very much pro-health considering the turmoil he puts her body through when he drinks from her, and she had a particularly shitty dinner of ordered in greasy, cheese pizza the night prior considering Harry had been working late and those are her only cheat days) and he was being quite diligent. It was the first time he was making it so it was probably a bad idea springing this on him while he was in his chef state of mind (because nothing matters as much as his dishes when he’s cooking). “The ceremonies are long and drawn out, the vows are contrived, you’re expected to stay for the reception and dance and eat the disgusting excuse for a mass produced dinner.” He shakes his head, the thought of it absurd in his mind, “Human weddings are meaningless; they divorce just as quick as they enter them most of the time. All that time and money wasted for what? A piece of paper? It’d made me irate before but now that I know what true love is with you, it only makes me angrier that they try to prove their love with that.”

Though his last statement had brought her cheeks warm and rendered her heart a bit mushy, she could feel herself deflate immensely. She couldn’t force him to an event that he didn’t want to attend -- he never made her accompany him to the two hour long meetings he was often stuck in, how could she make him come with her? It was long and albeit beautiful, the ceremony was rather boring, and the receptions could either be really fun or terrible, and the wedding cake -- god, you have to pray that they didn’t spend hundreds on something that tasted grocery store quality at best. But she hadn’t been to one in so long and there was some part of her that secretly loved them, even if she didn’t technically participate as anything but a face for the bridesmaid’s to look out at when they were trying to keep their mind off their cramping feet. She supposes that she could go with her friends or tag along with Niall and his date, but neither would be as fun as she thinks it would be with Harry, no matter his grumpy nature.

“Regardless of my distaste for them, I will attend with you,” he adds a few moments after his initial tirade and Y/N looks up, a new light in her step when she realizes he is looking at her, “I’m interested in how they have changed over time, and I don’t like when you look disheartened by something I’ve said. Wipe that sad little pout of your mouth my love.”

She sucks her bottom lip back into her mouth, biting down on a smile, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to though -- don’t want to force you into it.”

Harry pauses his cooking, walking towards where she sits on the counter and parting her legs for him to fit between, hands remaining on her thighs, “Would going to this wedding make you happy?” He inquires and when she nods, he strokes her skin with his thumbs, the metal of his rings coaxing goosebumps to the surface, “Then I will go. Little human, if you are happy, I am happy, however I do request you let me feed from the tender flesh of your thigh as my repayment for enduring such an interminable proclamation of human love. And that you do not make me dance.”

Y/N agrees to both happily, grinning wide and slipping her arms around his neck, peppering kisses onto his cheeks in rapid succession, “You can suck me dry through my thighs if you want to! And no dance floor shenanigans, promise.”

She had her fingers crossed around his head though -- she could get him on the dancefloor she bets.

Harry allows her kisses before puckering his own lips, and Y/N pushes their mouths together. It only lasts but a moment though, because Harry slips from her hold and pats on her thighs, “Now get off the counter, I need the space for the rest of the food.”

. . .

The day of the wedding, Y/N woke up at 7AM to an already showered and partially dressed Harry fixing up the buttons on his white blouse. Perhaps she was a bit melodramatic, since the wedding didn’t start until 10AM and they were maybe just a half hour away from the venue, but she scrambled from the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me?” She had cried out, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and detangle from the cotton sheets spread over her bed, “We’re g’na be late!”

“You told me not to wake you until 7:05.” He had reminded her, “I woke early so that you would have ample space and time in the shower.”

She pauses on her way to the bathroom because she remembers this very distantly and the fact that he had woken earlier than needed to get ready himself, makes her reroute to where he stood in front of her mirror. Kissed him quickly, murmured a quick, “Thank you, love you,” as her apology for panicking, before she scattered to back to the bathroom. In a haste she showers, shaves, lotions up, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and does her hair in the course of forty minutes. She walks out of her bathroom to be met with Harry taking her dress from where it hung freshly pressed on the door (he’d insisted on it, even if it was just a floaty floral number), holding it until she could pull up a pair of underwear on and wrestle with a bra.

“Slow down,” he commands gently when she rushes to grab the dress from him, holding it just out of her reach, “We have plenty time, Little human, we’re not the ones getting married.”

Which -- well, that was true, she supposes. Something about having an event to go to makes her a little jittery, moving too quickly and rushing; it’s like homecoming and prom all over again, only this time she had a vampire boyfriend who was incredible at handling stressful moments, carefully helping her into her dress. He took a glittery necklace he’d bought her from her jewelry dish atop of her dresser, and slid it around her throat and clipped the two ends together. A vampire boyfriend who also sweetly reminded her to take her iron supplement because, “Tonight, m’getting between those thighs lovely.”

The drive was alright; there was some traffic and she’d been worried when she saw how backed up the highway had been, but they got there forty minutes before the ceremony and secured a spot near the front where Niall had saved them seats. Harry entertained her with stories of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and also trying to act as human-like as he can when they have any sort of interaction with the people around them. Like when Y/N spots another old friend (Adaline) sat in front of them and they begin chatting, catching up some at where they were in life, and who the men sitting beside them were. She’d made the comment, “What do you guys think of the venue? It’s lovely.”

Harry had answered unprompted, as he hadn’t really spoken much in their conversation other than, “It isn’t St. James Palace, but I suppose it’s fine. Hope she can stand up to the likes of Queen Victoria.”

Y/N’s eyes had widened, a dribble of panic slipping down her spine because she wasn’t ready to give the fake “he reads history books in his free time” explanation that he’d given Niall over Harry’s outlandish comments, but she doesn’t have to. Adaline only laughs, shaking her head and pointed her finger at Y/N, “Course you would find someone with the same sense of humor as you, lucky dog. Adam can never tell when m’joking or not.”

She has to pretend that she isn’t concerned that her joking sounds like Harry’s very serious tone but merely patted Harry’s thigh, giving it a loving squeeze, and when she looks to him he is smiling to himself. He rather enjoyed when people found him funny, and what he enjoyed even more, was Y/N trying to dig their way out of a ditch he’d begun digging them.

The ceremony was beautiful; Caroline looked stunning in her dress, a proper gown embellished with beading and lace appliques fitted to her torso and fanning out into the longest train Y/N doesn’t think she’s seen in real life before. Harry held her hand during the duration of it and swipes away the tear that had beaded to her eye when they began reading their vows and the groom got choked up. Even pulled her close to him, and despite his previous adversity to weddings, this one seemed to be getting him a bit mushy himself. She reckons if they hadn’t been in public, he would have purred for her as he’s so fond of doing when he’s feeling immense love for her.

Her reception was in the same building, so they only had to go a floor up to enter it. She met up with Niall and a few of their mutual friends, got to gush to Caroline about how beautiful the wedding was and how incredible she looked, and kept Harry at her side. He spoke when he was spoken to but otherwise he was quiet and when he’d ventured off to get them more champagne, Gina -- who also shared film studies with them -- leaned in, “He’s giving me strong Edward Cullen vibes, babe -- he moves, you move, silent probably broody type, definitely gorgeous,” she laughed as she continued, “Is he a vampire or something?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold when she forced a laugh, shaking her head letting a lie slip easily from her tongue, “No, no, just shy is all. He’s a bit of a writer so he likes observing people -- can characterize them better.”

Niall snorts, taking a drink from his flute, “Shy until someone challenges his history knowledge, that’s for sure -- grade A smart lad has a damn book of information as a brain.”

Before they could say anymore, Harry reappeared with her drink, “They’re attacking the cake like vultures to a carcass, I think I may need to break an old woman’s finger to get a slice. Would you like one?”

She’d tricked him into dancing as well, locking their fingers and dragging him out to the floor in the middle, “You promised!” He protested but Y/N had already started moving side to side a little dramatically to get him to smile past his frown.

“Had my fingers crossed!” She let him know delightedly and after some coaxing and the whispered promise that she would throat him later (weddings made her all sorts of soppy and soft, which in turn made her an eensy bit greedy for Harry, and being greedy is simultaneous with cuddly and horny), she got him moving at least a little. She’d coached him through the Cha Cha Slide, had improvised a dance to Papa Loves Mambo, and serenaded him with a lovely rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. By the time the bride threw her bouquet (which Niall’s date had caught, Niall’s eyes widened comically, and Y/N decides then she’s going to tease his ass to shreds about it), Y/N was feeling the full effect of her champagne and Harry was gaining a contact high from her giddiness. Even the slow songs were nice, as Harry showed her how it’s done exactly (because she’d never been arsed to learn herself), and pulled out some moves that he remarked Queen Victoria would have blushed at (“Times were simpler then, my Love”).

The whole night was so enjoyable and fun and by the time that it was through, she doesn’t think either of them wanted to leave. “We should start crashing weddings,” Y/N had decided on their chilly walk back to the car around , just as Harry revealed a plate with another plate over the top of it that he’d been covering with his coat, “What’s that then?”

“I stole you cake,” he answered, taking off the top plate and showing the five slices that had been hidden, “You enjoyed it thoroughly and they were just going to throw it away but wouldn’t let me take the entire thing, so I took as many as would fit.”

Y/N might have never been more in love with him than she was in that moment.

On their way back, as they both cooled down from the excitement of the reception and Harry was navigating the post wedding traffic while Y/N nursed the stolen cakes in her hand, they were relatively quiet. Harry was worrying his lip between his teeth like he was thinking on something, and Y/N was too worn out to bother him about it until he opened up as she usually does. Though he told her soon enough, once they finally pulled off on the exit that would take them back home.

“I enjoyed that much more than I thought I would,” he told her truthfully and she smiled.

“Good.”

“I would enjoy if we had a big party,” he continued, and Y/N’s once drooping eyes shoot open, “Much like a wedding but without the ceremony, that was a bore. But a big party and we will invite many people and celebrate our love for one another. Would you be interested in that?”

Y/N’s soppy soft heart only gets soppier as she nods, reaching over so their hands locked where his rested on the middle console.

“I’d love that.”

. . .

Once Harry and Y/N made it home, Y/N had taken what she believed to be a very well deserved nap in the passenger side, only waking to the gentle brush of his fingers to her cheek once they were parked, “Oh, sweet thing,” he’d hummed, “We’re home.” Harry was the best for waking people up, Y/N had decided long ago, because he’s nothing but sweet murmurs and soft caresses. When Niall woke her up in the mornings it was a plethora of pillow hitting and purported threats in the form of I swear to god, you little demon, I’ll write a love letter from you and give it to Professor Rollins. It was jarring and she was far undeserving of it (she only ever hit him will a pillow once and it was because he was already thirty minutes late) when she always wakes people up with careful shakes and promises of breakfast.

Harry is much sweeter towards her, coaxing her from her slumber with soft touches, peppered kisses against her cheek, murmuring pleasant words into her ear and nibbling at the lobe. It brings shivers down her spine and tickles goosebumps up her arms, to where she’s blinking her eyes open slow, adjusting to the light of the room and snuggling deeper into him. If it were a morning she had things to do, Harry would only appease her for a moment with back rubs and cuddles, “Wake up, little human,” he hummed sweetly, and when she replied she didn’t want to, he would assure her that as soon as she returned home they could nap together (which means Y/N will snore in his ear while Harry did whatever he did when she was sleeping and he wasn’t). If she had nothing to do, he would let her sleep in some but would tempt her with breakfast and smoothies.

So when she is reluctant to remove herself from the car, he’s as tender as he always is. Titters something she can’t quite make out before walking over to her side, reaching over to unbuckle her, before gathering her up in his arms. “Your species is such a sleep bunch,” he had commented, “Or maybe it's just my little human who is so tired?”

“Mhm,” she murmured, dipping her face into the column of his throat only then realising that he was carrying the cake plate with the hand of the arm tucked beneath her knees, “Still ready for you stuff me full of that big, thick —“ she begins to tease him but he cuts her off with a small pinch to her bum.

“Careful what you wish for, sweet thing,” he responded, not concerned in the slightest, “Haven’t been inside you for a while, might just split you in half.” He unlocks the door swiftly, twisting the knob and pushing it open, noticeably biting down on the inside of his lip when he feels Y/N shudder and nestle into him closer. She would very much like that, she decides, but she doesn’t think he will. One thing she had learned from him is that if he’s going to feed from her while and/or before they have sex, he prepares far before. The dinner he has is rich and full of nutrients, it’s not normally around a time in which she’s stressed, and it’s only if he’s sure she’s not too exhausted. Two of the three weren’t happening and she could feel from his grip that he was intending to feed from her as soon as they settle.

It’d been a while since he had fed from her; a few weeks at the very least. He didn’t enjoy doing it when she had finals to worry about so he had appeared to be pretty opposed to the fact, even though she continuously told him that it would be just fine if he did. So she knew he was starving -- parched for it -- and the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, where the blood ran warm and his nose was tucked near another place he loved to frequent, she knew would be a treat after such a long period of wait.

Harry was brisk in his movements, setting the cake he’d taken down on the coffee table and almost immediately whisking her off to their bed. His pupils were blown a telling black that suggested his hungered state; it’s moments like this -- as he’s setting her down atop of the mattress, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up so it floated and fluttered around her hips with albeit precise coordination, eagerly -- that she remembers what he is. Not that him drinking her blood wasn’t its own telling indicator, but she often forgets that he is truly a whole different part of this world, one that nobody is quite aware of.

This should scare her. The way he pushes her thighs apart and settles happily in between, the dark of his eyes overshadowing the usual foamy, light green that they regularly were -- it should make her heart race out of fear that he might take it too far. Drain her of every ounce of blood until he’s satiated and full.

But she isn’t -- not in the slightest, because not only is he pushing sweet kisses to the skin and wrapping his arms around each thigh like a hug, he’s looking up at her like she had given him a star. Like she had single handedly flown to space, plucked one from the sky, and held it out for him to have and to hold. “Remember to tell me if it gets to be too much,” he reminds her as he always does, before he presses his nose to the skin and breathes in deep. His shoulders roll backward once as he nestles closer, his tongue dipping from his mouth to lick a stripe where he would bite as he always does. Goosebumps tickle up and down her arms and legs, her center giving a pulse in interest at the proximity in which he’s near her. It’s too much and not enough all at once, bristling beneath his attention, impatience and excitement fizzling through her veins as she awaits the first bit of pain.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. The way the point of his teeth slides into her skin, two pricks much like a shot that she still flinches from. Harry notices her discomfort, using one of his hands to reach up towards her, slotting their fingers together with a soft squeeze as he latches his mouth around the point he’d chosen. He begins to suck from her, such an odd sensation that’s both terribly disconcerting and arousing all at once. A moan threatens at the back of her throat but she swallows it down in favor of hearing his own happy hum against her. Though he normally lacks color, the addition of blood into his system always tints his cheeks a rosy pink at first, and the way he holds onto her tighter, suckles sensually, and revels in the sweetness of the taste makes her tremble.

Y/N doesn’t start getting light headed until two to four minutes in and Harry can always tell -- parting from her with a soft, wet smack, lulling his tongue over the flesh he’d just been feeding from. This time instead of peeling back immediately as he usually does, he scoots forward and pulls the fabric of her panties to the side. Once again he breathes in deep, only this time he is slicking the broad of his tongue up from her hole up to her swollen clit, suckling it into his mouth. This time she is unable to keep her moan quiet, weakened thighs attempting to shut around his head, as he continues to lap at her petals.

“Harry,” she gasps, her back arching, her hips rolling up against his tongue where the clit slicks and slides around the swollen button, moving it side to side beneath, “Please, please don’t stop I --” her legs are shaking much more than she was expecting, reaching down with the hand that he wasn’t holding to burrow in his hair. The mix of spit and her juices was deliciously inviting, wet, messy and warm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the telling sign of an orgasm zipping up from the tips of her curled toes, and the light of it wraps around her thigh, around her hips, up through her torso and fanning out down towards her fingers and to the tips of each strand of hair atop her head.

He reaches down towards his cock, wiggling down the slick trousers so they bunch around his thighs as he slips his fingers around the stiff shaft and begins to twist and tug, only serving to make her moan even more against her. Her chest heaves with each breath, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he prods his tongue at her hole, licking inside her, slurping and drinking her up like he’d been born to do it. Almost like he’d been waiting for it since she’d promised him a bite of her thighs in exchange to go to the wedding. The sheer avidness and passion, how he takes hold of her clit between his lips, sucking hard and fast.

He encourages her with his gaze alone, nodding his head, a soft, “Mhm,” against her that had her insides undulating, and like a bubble of water that swells beneath immense pressure, it pops around her in a blinding wave of light. She cums on his mouth, shaking like a leaf -- a very well satisfied leaf -- as Harry licks and sucks and works her through it. Brings her back down from the clouds with soft, sweet kisses up her thighs, to the junction of her leg and hip, pushing kisses to her stomach, and skipping where her dress was still covering her to her mouth. When he kisses her he slips his tongue into her mouth so that he can taste her, nipping, and suckling at her lips before rubbing the tips of their noses together.

Harry pecks another kiss to her mouth before murmuring, “We ran out of cranberry juice this morning,” but before she could act even the tiniest bit elated, he continues, “Thank goodness I have a whole new case of it in my trunk.”

“Harry,” she pouts, but he reaches up and plucks at her bottom lip.

“Put that away,” he tuts his tongue, “If you drink it all, maybe I’ll get you off again, hmm?”

#BLURB #BLURBS #:D #Anonymous

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rogah-wrote-gaga · 4 years

Text

the other one

chapter one: he’s not as he seems

pairing: roger taylor x reader, brian may x reader

wordcount: ~2.5k

summary: You'd only been following them because of Tim, you told yourself. It had nothing to do with a sexy blonde and a lovely astrophysicist, so why were you sticking with them, and not him? You knew full well that Tim had made his own decision when he left Smile, cutting off his relationship with you and the boys.

What you didn't know how far it would take you.

chapter summary: You didn’t want to head back to your dorm just yet, so you stayed at the bar, observing people quietly. It wasn’t until you were halfway through your second pint that you realised the drummer of Tim’s band had just sat down next to you. “Hey.” You turned to him in surprise; his voice was so unlike his singing in the band (to be fair, you had only ever heard him singing in falsetto). It was scratchy and gravelly, and you could see why girls were constantly falling at his feet. His eyes were the bluest you had ever seen, and his hair was a shining blonde. If he were a girl, he probably would’ve been exactly Tim’s type. “Hi.” He gulped down the rest of his drink and smiled; his teeth were even and white. “So, I saw you looking at me.” OR reader meets Roger and gets to know him.

warnings: none really, mentions of sex/ mild innuendo

a/n: so this is chapter one of my new slow burn series, the other one!! it was great fun to write and i hope you enjoy reading it just as much as i enjoyed writing it :) tagging @asupersonicwoman bc i know how much she loves roger and @sunshine112, @sunset-shimmer-may, @tuiaway, and @blamerogertaylor in the hopes that they might enjoy it(let me know if you want to carry on being tagged in any of my fics) ; any reblogs and comments are appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

The pub was as busy as always. Sighing, you walked over to the bar, hopped up on a barstool, and ordered a pint of beer. Your first year of university had taken its toll on you: you came to this bar to relax. Up on the small deck that served as a stage was your best friend Tim, with two others who you didn’t know too well, performing as the band ‘Smile’.

You sipped your drink as Tim started to croon into the mic and focused your attention on the blond drummer. Tim had introduced you a few weeks back, and you couldn’t remember anything about him except that he always seemed to have a girl draped on his arm. The guitarist’s name was Brian, and he was in your Mathematics class. He was the smartest guy in the class when he bothered to turn up; you heard that Physics was his main passion, alongside making music. His hair was one giant ball of frizz as he bobbed about the stage, and you smiled to yourself, knowing that he had probably tried to brush out his curls.

The band finished playing “Earth” to a round of half-hearted applause, and Tim sauntered off the stage towards where you sat at the bar, ordering himself a pint in the process. “Hey, y/n, enjoy the show?” he grinned. “You only played one song. And it was boring.” You only said this because you knew it would annoy him; he was very proud of his work. “Well, you certainly looked like you enjoyed it.” Tim said this with a wink and a nod towards the drummer, who was making his way through the crowds that had suddenly appeared when he had left the stage. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to Tim, who was smiling obnoxiously at you. “Catch you later, y/n!”

You didn’t want to head back to your dorm just yet, so you stayed at the bar, observing people quietly. It wasn’t until you were halfway through your second pint that you realised the drummer of Tim’s band had just sat down next to you. “Hey.” You turned to him in surprise; his voice was so unlike his singing in the band (to be fair, you had only ever heard him singing in falsetto). It was scratchy and gravelly, and you could see why girls were constantly falling at his feet. His eyes were the bluest you had ever seen, and his hair was a shining blonde. If he were a girl, he probably would’ve been exactly Tim’s type. “Hi.” He gulped down the rest of his drink and smiled; his teeth were even and white. “So, I saw you looking at me.”

Great. He was one of those. You knew the type. Cocky, self-satisfied bastards who thought they could have their way with any girl they wanted. Hell, they probably did. “Who would want to look at you?” you muttered, staring at the dusty floorboards. The silence was what made you look up. The drummer was staring at you with an intensity you’d never experienced before. He seemed to notice you had looked up, and snapped out of it pretty quickly, shaking his head and stuttering, “Look, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. My name’s Roger. Roger Taylor.”

He offered out a hand as he said this, looking away with what you recognised as embarrassment and perhaps even shame. “I’m y/n,” you said as you gripped his hand and shook it firmly. Roger reached under his shirt with one hand, rubbing a shoulder, still not looking at you.

“Yeah, I know. You’re Tim’s mate? We, uh, were introduced. A couple weeks back. You study Maths and Psychology, right? At Brian’s college, I think you said.” He was talking really fast, his eyes darting around, avoiding your gaze. You were surprised that he remembered so much about you and a little ashamed that you couldn’t remember a single thing about him. He suddenly seemed kind of shy, maybe even scared. “Yeah, that’s right. And you’re a… medical student?” you guessed, grimacing to yourself when Roger shook his head. “Dentistry,” he muttered. “And I absolutely hate it. But hey, gotta do what you gotta do to keep your parents happy, I guess.” He didn’t seem to be on the verge of continuing, so you asked him what he did in his spare time.

He perked up a bit at that, and seemed to partially revert back into his original, confident manner, his voicing raising pitch until he almost sounded like a girl. “Yeah, well, obviously I’m drumming in this band, and I absolutely love music, y’know, I’d want to do it all my life if I could. I like fiddling around with cars, too, absolutely love cars. But music is my main goal, I guess, used to play the guitar and even a bit of ukulele!” You laughed at that, trying to picture him strumming what you visualised as a very tiny guitar. “But then I tried out the drums, and not to boast or anything, but I was, and am, bloody brilliant. I just have this kind of knack for it.” In your mind, you agreed; he added a flair to Tim’s music with interesting rhythms and constantly wasted time twirling his drumsticks, still finding time to hit every beat perfectly. “But enough about me. What do you like to do?”

This surprised you. Most of the guys that had tried to hit on you (and there weren’t many) talked about themselves for hours then asked at the very end if you were u for a quick shag. This had led to your poor opinion on most men, except your brother, who was your brother, and Tim, because he was your best friend.

“Well, I like reading. And writing.” This was the most you’d ever been able to get out before whatever man you were currently entertaining passed out with boredom. You hesitated, but Roger gestured for you to go on, with what seemed like genuine interest. “And, uh, I was gonna take English Lit at uni, but there was this thing with my application…” And so it went. He let you talk for as long as you pleased, interjecting only to ask questions and even laughing at your terrible anecdotes. Then you carried on talking, about everything from his favourite colour to your taste in music. He insisted on paying for the next three rounds, by the end of which you were both slightly tipsy. “So, why d’you c’mere then? If you don’t like Tim?” You gestured around wildly, trying to think. “No, no, no, I do like Tim. But not, y’know, like that. You know what I mean. He’s just not… sexy.” Roger laughed. “Sexy?” “Oh, you know what I mean.” Roger waggled his eyebrows at you before continuing, “Am I sexy?” “Very,” you assured him with a laugh. And he was. So, when you leant forwards and kissed him, it didn’t feel forced at all.

Groaning, you sat up from your bed with a headache. You couldn’t remember having that much to drink last night and was surprised when you sat up in unfamiliar surroundings. All you could vaguely remember was stumbling towards a black cab before someone had grabbed you and snatched you away from it. You were also aware that you were definitely not in your dorm. You sat up in a whiz, knowing that if you were not in your dorm and none of your friends had been with you, you were probably kidnapped. “Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered as you scrambled your way out of bed. You were on the verge of hoisting yourself out of the 2nd floor window amidst your mini panic attack when someone walked in.

“Uh, hey. Wh-Why are you trying to climb out my window?” “Roger!” You ran towards him and collapsed into his arms. “I thought- I thought that-” Laughing, Roger stepped away from you. “You thought what? That I had kidnapped you? y/n, you were this close to getting run over by this random car.” You pushed his fingers away from where they were dangling in front of your face. “I was trying to hail a cab!” “That wasn’t a cab, it was just some black jeep with a middle aged man in it.” You shook your head, adamant that you hadn’t been that drunk, but the grin didn’t leave Roger’s face and you couldn’t think of any other way you could’ve ended up in his flat. “So you brought me here. Thanks.”

He stepped away again, turning his back to you and rubbing the back of his neck, as walked into what looked like a kitchen, mumbling, “It was no problem. Uh, would you like something to drink?” You raised your eyebrows, surprised at the sudden change in character. “No, thanks. Where exactly are we?” you asked, following him to where he now stood, leaning against the counter. You couldn’t help but notice that he only had a tiny pair of shorts on which barely covered his boxers, and an unbuttoned shirt, exposing his chest and small tummy. “In my flat. I’m staying here while I’m at uni; the rent’s cheap and the neighbours aren’t too loud.”

“No, I got that we were in your flat, but where is your flat located? Sorry, I sound like a stalker.” Roger gave you a weird look. “But you’re in my flat anyway. That doesn’t exactly make you a stalker. And we’re still in London, don’t worry, I haven’t carted you off to Land’s End just yet. Anyway, why are we standing around in the kitchen? I’ve got a very comfortable sofa, trust me.” You blushed slightly at the innuendo, and followed him through a small door that led into a fairly cramped living area, with a drum kit squished into one corner and stacks of vinyls, cd’s and books in another. In the middle against a wall was a two seater couch. You watched as Roger plonked himself on the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down next to him.

You sat down, and mentally noted the contact your thighs and arms made; you weren’t sure if it was normal, but you loved being touched by people. It didn’t even have to be sexual; you were so deprived of physical contact (Tim wasn’t a big hugger) that even a simple hug made you feel warm and happy. Roger seemed to notice how comfortable you were, and slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him so that your head was resting on his chest. Your ear was pressed so close to his bare skin that you could hear his heart racing. Eyes closed, you sighed contentedly. “You comfortable there, y/n?” Roger’s breath was hot against your ear as you breathed in his scent. “Because we can always go and lie on the bed if you’d prefer.” That made you sit up pretty quick, blood thundering in your ears. “I’m not- I didn’t mean- I just thought, it might be more comfortable? I wasn’t trying to make you feel aw-” You held a finger to Roger’s lips so he would stop the unnecessary stuttering. “I’d like to.” “Y-You would?” Roger seemed genuinely amazed.

“Of course I would. Let’s go.” you said, jumping off the sofa and leading the way to the bedroom. You lay back down on the bed, snuggling into the cold sheets while Roger lay down next to you. It was hard to tell whether he wanted you or not; he lay there beside you, not moving an inch. “Rog? Are you alright?”

He closed his eyes and turned away from you. “I just- I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had sex, I’ve never had a blowie, I’d never even had a good snog before yesterday. And I know it sounds stupid, y/n, so goddamn stupid, but I-, I’m just… scared…” His voice trailed off as you sank into his back, grasping his middle and laying your head just below his neck. “Why are you scared, Rog?” you whispered, as gently as possible. He stiffened beside you, trying to escape from your grip. “Well...uh...I dunno, I guess, uh, maybe, it- it might hurt?” This was not what you expected; then again, everything that had happened with Roger so far had been unpredictable.

But your very first impression of him, before you’d even spoken to each other, was that he was probably a good lay, he oozed self-confidence, and that he could pull any girl he wanted. But it seems you’d only got two of those assumptions right; he certainly had girls swooning over him, but he hadn’t seem interested in any of them, and now he was lying here next you explaining why he was still a virgin. You’d guessed his age at being about 20 or so; he was still at uni, after all, just like you.

“Do you ever think about it?” He sighed, the frustration in his voice evident. “I think about it all the bloody time! An’ it’s not like I don’t want to, it's just, I don’t know how- an’ I don’t know when or where or just- I don’t know what to do! I know for a fact that you don’t lie around talking, but I just don’t have the experience, and that makes me think no-one wants to shag me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m bad at flirting or whatever, but-”

He trailed off again, and you pushed yourself up on one elbow to see that his eyes were still squeezed tightly shut, small drops of water forcing their way through.

“Oh, Roger, that doesn’t matter! You don’t need any experience. Surely you’ve seen the girls practically lining up for you. As long as you enjoy yourself when you do it, then that’s fine,” you said, squirming internally.

You weren’t good at comforting people; you had a tendency to miraculously disappear whenever someone needed your shoulder to cry on. But there was no way you could leave the beautiful sobbing mess by himself without mentally beating yourself up for at least a week. “I’m here for you, Rog; whether you want me as your first sexual encounter,” You tried to inject some provocativeness into your voice as you said this, trailing your hand up his thigh deliberately in an effort to make him laugh, “Or as your fellow struggling student who just wants to focus on the things they love.”

You could feel that Roger had calmed down by then; he was no longer shaking and the tears had stopped. You held him, gently, not wanting to pressure him. His breathing slowed in your arms, and you felt the slow tendrils of sleep pulling both of you under.

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27emailsicantsend · 5 years

Text

3x14 and 3x15 Andi Mack scene by scene recap + my unnecessary opinions lol

Forewarning: as from the title these ARE spoilers to the episodes if you haven’t seen it. I’m tagging spoilers out but there’s still a chance they could be seen. Also, I’m giving a scene by scene recap with my opinions of the show. I’ve been requested to do the recap but I also want to talk about what I thought from these episodes in more detail than my post yesterday. So for the most part it’ll be factual but I’m really invested in these two episodes so I’ll definitely be adding my own twang. It’s virtually impossible for me not to recap my own hype for the episodes lol. Hope you’re a Muffy and Tyrus stan bc I’ve got some cOnTeNt for you ❤️

Ok here. we. go.

3x14

Scene starts in the spoon. It’s Andi, Muffy, and Cyrus. Muffy and Cyrus talk about Andi’s parents not getting married while Amber overhears. She gets upset and asks why. Andi clarifies her parents aren’t married, but still together and Amber makes the comment, “unlike my house. My parents are still married but barely together”. Which gets some awks looks from the table. Andi tells them she’s not sad, but angry. Then she says that B&B (Bex and Bowie) said she’s entitled to her feelings to which Cyrus claims as being manipulative?? (Still don’t see how, but he explains that they are playing dodgeball and b&b are on one side and Andi on the other. She has a ball of anger she wants to throw, but they’re ready for it. So if she throws it, they’ll catch it and then she basically can’t show her anger- he’s obviously been listening to his counseling parents hahaha). Andi asks where she can throw her anger ball (lol) so Amber takes her to a sledge hammer place (Rage Cage) where everyone is in individual cages that have old items that you just beat up with a sledge hammer.

*opening song*

Andi is laying on her bed and gets a really excited phone call from CeCe about the wedding to which Andi feels guilty. She tries to tell Bex to tell CeCe it’s cancelled but Bex refuses bc the next day is CeCe’s bday. This scene had some really good acting BTW (I’ll probably tell you when this happens too bc honestly props to the actors. And the cinematography and music in these two episodes is beautiful. Literally made me feel like I was watching a movie).

Buffy runs up to Marty at a bench and he gets a big dimple smile bc why wouldn’t he be excited to see her?? Lol Buffy starts mocking Marty’s shoes because they have toe inserts and that’s when he tells her they are for a marathon. Buffy gets confused (and lowkey upset) she didn’t know about the marathon and Marty is all, “we have a lot of catching up to do” and I’m all (you have a lot of dating to do because my soul has been empty this past season without you. #RIPME 😭 ⚰️). So Buffy gets all flirty competitive and says she wants to race as well. Marty tries to talk her out of it bc he’s worried about an injury, dehydration, etc. but this is Buffy we’re talking about and she insists she can do it and then runs away lol, but Marty can’t help the love he feels for her and smiles sheepishly as he goes to run away with her (very metaphoric. I love)

Jonah and Cyrus are walking and Cyrus invites Jonah to see a meteor shower in his backyard for a campout (good Jyrus moment if you ship that) Jonah makes a lame joke about not having a s’more in awhile and so he has “s’less”- Cyrus tells him not to hurt himself making that joke 😂😂

B&B and Andi are at a restaurant waiting for CeCe & Ham. CeCe shows up and tells everyone Ham went back to India.

Cyrus and Jonah go into a beautifully set up tent where Cyrus obviously had to out-do himself and make everything in the tent extra. I love a gay interior design queen.

Back at the restaurant, CeCe says Ham went to India for rest. CeCe makes some really weird remark about seeing him again (yikes) and the rest make comments about him doing what he needs to do and that they have to accept it and not take each other for granted. Very subtextual of the real situation, but also a great way to write off his character and play into Bex worrying about cancelling the wedding. She showed fear like she wouldn’t want to say anything to CeCe bc he’s gone, but since CeCe was ok with him leaving, Bex calmed down too. Just really well done. CeCe tried to show Bex venue photo’s and Bex tried to stop her but then Bex just says she had a problem mailing the wedding invites *cliff hanger*

Cyrus and Jonah back at the tent. Jonah is panicking about dying in Cyrus’ backyard and Cyrus brings meat into the tent but makes it all flirty and weird- I don’t ship Jyrus but the whole thing lowkey felt like they were trying to impress Jyrus shippers with date vibes haha (also the meat is BAD if you’re camping bc animals can get to you). Then an animal hits their tent at (obviously) the right time

CeCe now knows the wedding is off and is PiSsEd™️. The waiters are all completely unaware and don’t know how to read the room so they bring a sparkler cake. CeCe flips the sparkler upside down, shoves it in the cake, and exits as dramatically as possible. Leaving the mustached waiter with an awkward face like:

Then there was this weird commercial on my app promoting season 2 like bish you already know I watched that season at least twice don’t play me like that

Back to the pointless tent scene (for real- this scene was just filler. You rip off Tyrus FOR THIS? Actual homophobia). Jonah mispronounces some weird thing (and Cyrus says don’t hurt yourself again) and then breaks the tent. Cyrus makes a failed attempt at opening the tent with a cheese knife but Shazam! saves the day by telling Cyrus not to hurt himself and opening the tent with the same cheese knife (honestly, weird flex but ok). They escape and are saved and watch a poorly CGI’d meteor shower like two old men on their front porch. and yippee five minutes of wasted screen time are over. I don’t care if you ship Jyrus. It was a waste of time when we could have been focusing on the TeA of the show. *rant over- no worries. Many more to come*

Back to important matters, Muffy is now running their race. Marty doesn’t want to race. He just wants to finish in under 4 hours and Buffy wants to finish under his time. Buffy agrees with Mr. Party at first, but then hears the word “race” and bolts away like Lightning McQueen.

Bex and Andi back at the house. Bex says it went bad with CeCe bc she won’t even act like Bex exists. Andi realizes her anger and knows where to take her (you guessed it. RAGe CAGe- Andi said it wasn’t for Bex lol so she wouldn’t tell Bex where she was going with CeCe 😂 the shade)

Marty is jogging along like a middle aged white woman and sees Buffy wheezing. He gets all husband like and concerned as he catches her in his arms. (Which reminds me of a pic I saw on Tumblr where they drew her in his arms but laced it with the “Miss Keisha” vine and I was here for it). Then Marty and Buffy put their arms around each other and he escorts her to a bench. (Just saying, everyone knows Tyrus is going to involve a bench scene but as us loyal fans know, Muffy shadows Tyrus and they have also encountered two (2) benches thus far. Coincidence? Maybe. Will I believe it was a coincidence? Absolutely not). Then he puts her on the bench and acts all cute and paramedic and concerned. He’s been taking doc notes at General Hospital obviously. (He even mentions taking her to a doctor). Buffy is all like, “Run your race Marty. 4 1/2 hours. [I’m the supportive girlfriend you hoe].” And he doesn’t want to leave her and she accuses him of being a martyr? Then she snaps at him (like tf) to go away and he gets all angsty™️ and runs off and my heart broke bc I was not ready for a Muffy battle.

Andi and CeCe at the Rage Cage... rage. In a cage.

Marty comes running back to Buffy with a dimple smile again bc he knows she was trying to “White Fang” him from a movie they saw together (❤️). To “White Fang” is for the boy in the movie to send the wolf away, wolf doesn’t want to leave, so the boy throws rocks at him to make him go. Buffy is caught (but she ain’t mad) and I need to quote this part word for word bc it’s TOO CUTE 🥰🥰🥰

B: You’re the one who said we should run our own race

M: That’s what I’m doing

B: Wanna sit here with me?

M: No. I wanna cross the finish line with you 😭😭😭

And that, my friends, was the day my heart ripped in half from joy

Then he picks her up and they put their arms around each other (I seriously can’t. They made me cry last night and lowkey I thought it was bc I was tired but I’m fully energized and watery eyed... sooo....) then Marty makes a joke about them running and Buffy goes, “you’re hilarious” and his voice gets all soft and he looks at her all gentle and goes, “you finally figured that out” AND PLEASE TERRI STOP IT HURTS. But no, the scene CONTINUES BECAUSE MY HEART APPARENTLY COULD TAKE THAT (lies). And the scene changes and now Marty is PIGBACKING HER ACROSS THE FINISH LINE THREE HOURS LATER. LIKE STOP. STOP. I CAN’T HANDLE THESE TENDER MOMENTS. (Seriously they were together an extra three hours with him helping her. I’m WeAk). And they both get medals and Buffy compliments him so he gets all happy and tells her to keep going, but she runs out of compliments so he goes, “ok, I just wanted to see how deep that well went” with his eyes darting all over her face and then the music shifts to almost like progressive-romantic music as BUFFY PUTS HER ARM BACK AROUND HIM AND THEY WALK AWAY (the music was placed so we knew they were having a moment) and that was the exact moment I died. MY PARENTS. (Watched this scene 3 times and will 100% watch it at least 1000 more).

Then Andi sees Amber raging. In a cage. She’s like “excuse me? What are you doing here” and Amber is all mad at Jonah and Andi’s all break up with your boyfriend yeah yeah cuz I’m bored. And Amber wasn’t here for it because apparently she thinks she’s in love with Jonah now? (with tears in her eyes... I mean, love to me isn’t that angry and hating everything he does [he only sent her six emoji’s apparently and just isn’t there for her] that it drives you to physical violence but ok)-(but good acting along with the last Muffy scene but I’m sure ya’ll picked up on that from my synopsis lol)

3x15

FYI this synopsis won’t be AS long, but that’s because Muffy is absent and I have an unexpresible love for them and this episode also sent me over the EDGE with Tyrus 🙄😤🙃 but I’ll do what I can with Tyrus bc it’s still gay and angsty and I was here for that part of it (also I love the Terri devoted two separate episodes to Tyrus and Muffy. Like she really knows this Friendom and what will keep us watching lol)

Unnecessary opening scene with B&B and Andi going to the movie instead of spending time on their phones (it was cute but unnecessary. I liked in the last episode that the rage cage in the beginning scene actually tied into the episode)

*opening credits*

Buffy and Cyrus watching Kira and TJ like hawks from the bench far away and Buffy is confused af about it. She asks Cyrus and he gets all angsty (I WILL over use this word bc it’s too accurate for this episode, wait til you actually see it) and goes “I don’t know” *shoulder shrug* “I haven’t been hanging out with TJ lately”

Buffy: because of that?

Cyrus: they’ve been pretty much attached at the hip (then Kira has the AUDACITY to jump on TJ’s back) and the back. They look happy.

B: it won’t last. Kira’s not a nice person. Only took me a day to figure that out. Since he’s a GUY, it’ll take longer.

Cloud 10 with Bex and Andi discussing Bex and CeCe making up, but in front of CeCe. CeCe is still PiSsEd™️. Bex tries to talk to her and BEGS to make up with her mom but her mom is cold and I felt Bex’s pain. (Great acting in this scene too. I just wanted to hug Bex. Like did you really have to do her a dirty like that? With Tyrus and Bex, this episode is starting to feel like 3x13 again and I thought we all agreed to never speak of that episode ever again)

Cyrus is sitting all angsty and alone with some frozen yogurt in front of a greenhouse? Literally no idea where he is at but it’s such a mood lol and even funnier that TJ found him there. Like where are they?? Hahahaha but ANYWAY, TJ sits down and confronts Cyrus about avoiding him. Cyrus says he isn’t but TJ is like “kinda feels like it”. Cyrus tries to say that TJ has been occupied with Kira taking up his time and TJ denies that hard. And here’s the TEA sis:

Cyrus: you two are clearly hitting it off. Which is great. I’m happy for you guys.

TJ: you make it sound like we’re a couple. We’re not. We mostly just talk about basketball.

C: and then you give her a piggy back ride?

T: she bet me I couldn’t carry her. That was all

Then TJ tried to tell Cyrus to hangout with them more and Cyrus rejects that bc Kira knows Cyrus is Buffy’s best friend. Then Kira comes in to hoe around the scene and sits at the table. Says “heyyyy” all flirty to TJ 😒 and “hi Cyrus” direct and cold to Cyrus. Then becomes the most fake hoeeeee when pretending to agree with TJ that they should hang out more with Cyrus. Cyrus YEETS outta there and Mr. heart eyes looks like he created depression (it was that prevalent). Kira gets all needy and is like, “hellooo? I’m over here” and TJ just looks at her with the fakest angsty smile. Like why.

At the spoon, the GHC AND Jonah are sitting and Andi tells of this store called Mint Chip where they burn clothes rather than donate them bc it would make the brand look bad and lose sales if it’s with charity. Like??? Ok you actually look better with charity sooooo take two steps back B. Buffy gets the taste of wanting to be a bad guy (cue bad guy by Billie Eilish) and they all go dumpster diving and get the clothes from Mint Chip’s dumpster. Not much happens other than them stealing clothes and Buffy says her ankle hurts so she can’t get in the dumpster. IDK if that’s from the dehydration last episode (bc when she’s walking with Marty 😍 she’s limping) or if she fell wrong at the dumpster. It’s foreshadowing bc I know she has a hurt foot in a later episode so not sure where it will come in or why.

The kids have an outdoor “sidewalk sale” where they give away the free clothes from mint chip and some lady comes and gets a coat. She shows up later in the episode to tell Bex and CeCe about the sale but they do nothing. It was really weirdly staged like this character had more importance in the episode and got cut or she has importance later on. IDK? She just got a ton of screen time for it to go nowhere so we’ll see. And Cyrus is a Queen and styled some guy for an interview and Buffy is a Queen and styled a lady for a first online date. Then Jonah is just himself and doesn’t know what a pencil skirt is. *cue clothing sale montage with Jonah being a player and talking to lots of girls and the GHC+Jonah looking all sweet looking at pics from the day*

B&B get a wedding gift from Celia. It’s a snow globe from the night Bowie proposed, but since it’s mailed, was sent before CeCe knew about the cancellation. Bex tries to write her a thank you card but can’t and cries through it (great acting here too- Bex just takes the cake on acting TBH)

At the sale, Cyrus shows Buffy a shirt he wants to give to TJ (which isn’t a hoodie, surprisingly). He takes a pic & sends it to him to ask if he likes it and Buffy says “it’ll look good with his eyes” and Cyrus is all “it WILL 😍”

Buffy: he’s gonna like it. Why don’t you just give it to him?

C: I thought about that. I’m not sure how much he’s want that.

B: a free shirt??

C: ME. Giving him a free shirt.

B: there’s a great way to find out

C: what is it?

B: *forcing the shirt back to Cyrus* give him the shirt. Maybe it’ll mean something to him. Maybe it won’t. Either way, it’s a nice thing to do [seriously though I stan a Tyrus Ally]

C: it’s TJ. Thumbs up on the shirt *replying to Teej lol* you should come by the sale. It’s amazing. *back to the Vampire Slayer* was that too braggy?

B: not braggy enough

C: TJ *reading the message* I’m at the park *back to Buffy* what do you think that means?

B: he wants you to meet him?

C: you think

B: why else would he tell you where he is?

C: should I bring the shirt? I’m gonna being the shirt. *walks away and comes back* the shirt feels weird

B: then don’t take it

C: *walks away and comes back*

B: *whilst saying nothing hands Cyrus the shirt with a loving, yet so over Cyrus’ gay angst expression*

C: he’s gonna be expecting it... so I’m just gonna- yeah *yeets out of there in gay*

Kira and TJ at the park. Kira asks who TJ is texting and he says no one 😤 so TJ suggests feeding the ducks and Kira decides to hoe around yet again and suggests swinging first. She’s all flirty and TJ is ~not straight and not here for it~. He’s all like “I’m not five” like he doesn’t go swinging and Kira gets all competitive over who can swing higher and makes comments reflecting his and Cyrus’ convo which gets him to get on the swing (reluctantly) and also she is on Cyrus’ swing?? So umm? Get tf off???? And that’s when Cyrus pops around a tree, shirt in hand, to see THAT DISGUSTING MOCKERY OF A FRIENDSHIP I HATE IT SO MUCH??? EWWWW. And he’s all sad and angsty and jealous so he walks away **AND AS HE’S WALKING AWAY DOES A LOOK BACK SOOOOOOOOOO HE IS FOR SURE IN LOVE FREAKING HECK I CAN’T** and I just want to hug my boi and I can’t hug him and ugh 😭😭😭 my sad tears are here.

So Cyrus sees Buffy and tells her TJ was with Kira so that makes Buffy all annoyed (she’s a real one). Cyrus becomes a liar and says they’re “good together” again. Buffy tries to reassure him it won’t last, but Cyrus isn’t sure and now has this shirt he doesn’t know what to do with. He gives it to Jonah and says he has nice eyes too??? Like umm? Rebound much, Cyrus?? Like Boo. Don’t do that. I’m here for YOU. Jonah then tells some woman about how they pulled off the clothing shop and a police officer shows up. They don’t have a license to sell and never bought the clothing so they can’t give it for free. Next thing you know Bex is getting a call (after trying to make things right with CeCe AGAIN and more A+ acting.. seriously though freaking FORGIVE HER ALREADY SHE IS DOING EVERYTHING SHE CAN) and runs with CeCe to go help bail the GHC+Jonah out of jail (this was also after the woman in the coat makes a 2 second appearance at cloud 10 to talk about the sale and NOTHING HAPPENS WITH HER SO WHY). The scene ends with the cell door closing so I hope next episode maybe this scare freaks CeCe enough into making up with Bex. But IDK.

I’ve got many mixed feelings about these episodes. Hope you enjoyed my highly detailed and opinionated synopsis of the show 😂😂 can’t wait for next week!! ❤️

#andi mack #am spoilers #andi mack spoilers #tyrus #muffy #epidode recap #buffy driscoll #marty from the party #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #sophia wylie #luke mullen #garren lake #joshua rush #bexie #cece mack #bex mack

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domesticangel · 5 years

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ok ok a 68 plymouth gtx for ris is perfection but what do u think the rest of the squadra has? i really wanna say one of them has a studebaker somehow but i just dont know (ignore it was a us based company i love them anyways shhhh)

god. this is the best ask i couldve ever gotten. buckle up. ha ha. bc cars. and also bc I’m not gonna shut the fuck up

but YEAH NO SAME i also chose to foolishly disregard that italians wouldnt likely drive american cars (or necessarily drive at all…america is mad obsessed with cars compared to a lot of other countries so sdkfhsdkj) bc its all fun and games so ik a lot of this would be unrealistic but I’m american so i really only know about american cars/cars that are popular in america dskjfsdkjf so sorry for America-Centrism On Main but if any italians or ppl w knowledge of italian cars wanna chime in w their own takes, by all means!!!

oh and this post also foolishly assumes la sqaudra has money. lets pretend for just this post they all actually got paid for their jobs

SO WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY warning this is gonna make this post rly long but I’m gonna ad pics of the cars i think they’d all drive like. in case anyone reading wants to know what they look like but doesn’t wanna look em all up so I’m gonna throw this under a cut in case it gets crazy

ok i can 1000% see sorbet and gelato sharing a like studebaker speedster that they would take out cruising for special occasions….it would spend most of its time under a tarp locked in a garage bc if you touch that car without permission you WILL die by their loving intertwined hands. some couples have babies. some couples get dogs. sorbet and gelato got a studebaker speedster and treated it with almost as much love as they do each other. one might think their driving would match the “crazy” impression everyone has of them but honestly? they prefer to take it slow and cruise so they have more time to enjoy each others company. on the job they’ll wreck a rental all to hell, but not their baby. the rest of squadra would low key fear for their lives on the rare occasion that sorbet and gelato offered them rides in their car bc the inside is spotless and they all knew if they left anything out of place or dirtier than they found it their time was up

i think they’d dig a color scheme something like this; still looks mob and sophisticated without losing the whimsicality u feel me

i really like a classic chevelle ss or ‘67 mustang gt500 for formaggio

(ignore how fuckin shiney these are bc make no mistake his would be scratched and worn all to hell)

in line w my headcanon that he’d be knowledgable about cars, i think he’d like supe them up and mod them for street racing or 1960s style drag racing. since we don’t get a lot of individual sqaudra backstory i sometimes think about him maybe losing his parents at a young age or having a bad home life as is typical of passione members and getting taken in by a local mechanic, and only as he got older realizing the shop had mafia ties which eventually paved the way for his induction etc but the knowledge and interest in cars always stuck with him. i think he’d probably drive the most recklessly out of all of squadra (rivaled only by ghiaccio ofc) bc he just loves to go fast as fuck and show off. he’s definitely a revs-the-engine-when-he-drives-by-someone-cute ass bitch

illuso would drive a ‘71 dodge demon, and honestly only because he liked the name and how it looked

it would honestly drive formaggio insane that illuso would ONLY use this car to get around as opposed to flying down the countryside or doing burnouts in a field. illuso doesn’t know much about cars and he doesn’t care to learn either; if it looks good and the engine turns he’s happy. formaggio would BEG him to race him or let him take it for a spin, but illuso would be adamant in turning him down every time. he has no desire to take risks and tear up a perfectly good car, but if he feels especially generous he’ll let formaggio ride with him while formaggio excitedly rattles off specs illuso doesn’t understand in the slightest. he won’t readily admit to it but seeing formaggio that excited is really endearing and illuso would even end up learning something here and there from their time spent together

ghiaccio is anal enough about All Things Italian that he breaks my disclaimer and actually does drive an italian car. y'all already know what the fuck is going on

hell yeah ghiaccio drives a lambo. ‘71 lamborghini miura to be exact. and boy does he make this motherfucker screech and drift. as much as he seems to abuse the car he’s extremely uptight about upkeep and will take it in as often as needed for repairs. you can also bet your ass he’d berate any of his fellow squadra members that didn’t drive italian-made cars, asking them why they’d choose to drive that trash on wheels when their country is home to the best cars in the entire fucking world and they have their pick. being in the passenger seat with him at the wheel is terrifying, don’t get me wrong, but he’s actually a very skilled driver, like to the point that he probably couldve been a stunt car driver if he wanted. but whatever you do don’t show any adverse reactions to his hard turns or brakes bc he will take it as a personal insult to his skill as a driver and you will find that the louder his voice gets the heavier his foot gets on the gas so Good Fucking Luck. (also yes ik we already see ghiaccio driving a car in canon but its headcanon time and during headcanon time ghiaccio rocks the fucking lambo)

prosciutto would drive a big beautiful blue ‘65 thunderbird convertible

he would also be very particular about the upkeep of his car, but without any sort of personal touch; he hasn’t the time nor desire to keep up with the car himself so he just makes sure he takes it to a reputable shop to do it for him. it’s not his “baby” or an heirloom; its just a car. it runs and looks good as all fuck while doing it so thats all he really cares about tbh. that said, if anyone ever scratched or keyed or dented it they wouldn’t live long to regret bc as a wise man once said, you don’t fuck with a mans automobile. i mentioned this in the my squadra meme as well, but even though he smokes like a chimney, he NEVER smokes in his car. no smoking, eating, or drinking in the thunderbird. sealed packs of cigs in the console only and if the seals been broken it has to stay in your pocket. the upholstery is pristine and he prefers to keep it that way. he’s a very mild mannered driver and even often errs on the side of slow; he doesn’t really see the point in wasting gas by speeding or messing up the tires or alignment by showboating. he knows that he AND the car already look good enough to command bystanders’ attention so he doesn’t waste his time with any extra flashiness

ima keep it real with you chief: melone would drive a car you could fuck in the back of and thats about all there is to it, so look no further than the spacious ‘61 chrysler newport

he would somehow figure out a way to get an aux cord and a sound system in this old motherfucker and would listen to his music so loud it about rattled the doors off, much to any passengers’ chagrin. he’s almost worse to ride with than formaggio or ghiaccio because he texts and messes with the music the entire time he’s driving. like its almost impressive how often he manages to NOT have his hands on the wheel. he’s a master knee-driver. all that in mind the rest of squadra groans in unison when melone offers to drive and risotto, who doesn’t have time for a squabble, gives the ok and send them on their way bc they know they’re gonna have to deal with melone insisting that driver picks the music and white knuckling the handles the whole time. but regardless, if the chrysler’s rockin and the britney’s boppin, don’t come a-knockin

since i see pesci as the youngest i think he’d be the last to get a car, but the rest of squadra would surprise him by all pitching in and getting him a ‘69 buick sport wagon

it’d definitely be a fixer-upper (prosciutto insisted it’d be good for pesci to retroactively “earn” the car by learning how to take care of it, prompting the rest of squadra to point out prosciutto never even learned how to fix a car himself) but pesci would be out of his mind appreciative of it either way. after years of only ever riding in the back seat of someone else’s car he’d be so excited about finally having a car to call his own. formaggio would take him under his wing and show him everything he needed to do to make sure she stayed running in tip-top shape and they’d grow pretty close over it; formaggio would lose his damn mind the first time he’d convince pesci to do a burnout on his own. pesci would try his best to keep the car clean but he’d probably have a bad habit of leaving empty drink bottles in the floorboard or extra jackets in the back seat, but all in all he’d do a pretty good job taking care of the car and making the generous gift from his team worth it. most non-work related outings would have pesci chauffeuring, but he wouldn’t mind, bc seeing all his friends crammed into his car and having a good time would make him really happy

and last but not least risotto and his ‘68 plymouth gtx 🖤

perhaps surprisingly he wouldnt be excessively meticulous about upkeep; he definitely wouldnt do anything needlessly reckless to harm the car or neglectful of standard upkeep, but he would definitely see it as more of a personal part of him than a machine that needed to maintain perfection. he wouldn’t really sweat scratches or dents here and there; they’re bound to happen to a car that old and if he found the time he’d take it to get it buffed. like i said in the hc meme i think it would’ve belonged to his father (or any family member he was close to really) and it was passed onto him when he died so it’s kind of a sentimental thing for risotto. though not quite the same level as formaggio, he’s fairly good at making standard repairs on his own, and doesn’t mind spending a weekend or two up under the car fixing it up and making sure it runs smooth. the rest of squadra would each be surprised the first time they ever rode anywhere with him; the second the car started old classic rock or metal would blast through the speakers, with risotto mumbling a quick sorry and turning it down, but not all the way off. they would find out that their stoic leader prefers to drive with the windows down, one hand on the wheel, other out the window tapping to the beat of the music on the hood

aaaaaaaaand YEAH. i told you i wasn’t gonna shut the fuck up DSFHKJADHKSDJ LMAO SORRY I WENT TF OFF BUT YEAH THOSE ARE MY. SQUADRA CLASSIC CAR HCs

#txt #la squadra di esecuzione #yeah i gonna tag this!! just for funsies!!#idk just in case anyone else is. as interested in specifically squadra and classic cars as i am LMAO

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moviegroovies · 5 years

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oh god after last time i really did think i was done but i must have unlocked some new level of hell because here we go, here we go, lost boys hcs PART 3!!!!

so ummmmm michael... is sort of dumb.

like, ok, specifically??? i think he’s got a higher than average emotional intelligence, but he’s just one of those kids who’s bad at school. there’s some hints of this in the movie: when michael is telling sam that he can’t tell lucy about the vampirism thing, sam’s line is that it’s “not like getting a D in school, mike!”, implying that hiding that kind of thing is something the two of them have been over before, and a deleted subplot has him repeatedly insisting to lucy that he’s going to drop out of school to get a job and help her pay for things.

tbh i think he’s got that classic “child of divorce” thing going on. he feels like a burden on sparse resources and can’t stand the thought of wasting his days in school, where he doesn’t even want to be. he wants to help his mom! he gets a job for he so he can do that! what a good, sweet boy!!!

hmmm. dyslexic michael, anyone? like, i was going to say that he was particularly vexed by math & science, but the more i think about it, the more i’m leaning toward him maybe just being disinterested in those subjects, even though they’re the ones he’s better at, while english and history (but particularly english) really piss him off because studying takes so goddamn long.

so he gets like, C+/B- in math and science, consistent C- in history, and wavers C- to D+ or even lower in english.

he’s so polite to his teachers that they help him when they can though, especially because they know he’s trying so hard, but he’s just not entirely gifted at this sort of stuff.

the worst is when he has to keep his grades up to stay eligible for sports--that pressure just makes everything seem so much worse.

i think michael plays some of everything. he’s like, some kind of guard on the football team, not particularly their star player or anything, but i think he’s also got a starter position on the basketball team, and he is the star pitcher on the baseball team.

physical stuff just comes easier to him than academic stuff, you know?

his high school girlfriend was a cheerleader, but they weren’t that serious. she was a kind of preppy girl, a little vapid, and it felt to michael like they only really dated because they were supposed to. breaking up with her kind of led to michael’s attraction to star; he saw her on the boardwalk and she looked like she dressed for herself and she was outwardly enjoying her time at the concert--plus, you know, she’s really pretty.

he hates to admit it, but michael’s favorite classes in school were the home ec classes that his guidance counselor suggested he take. he took shop first, which was okay, but really, what he liked to do the most was the cooking and sewing shit. when he joins the lost boys, he kind of “takes over” these roles from star (who had been pressured into acting the mother for all these assholes who could be her great grandfathers, easily), and it turns out that he’s a lot better at that stuff than she is.

guess he was always kind of training to be david’s bitch after all.

the guys stop ribbing on him once he shows them how he can fix their clothes and shit, though. goddamn assholes.

michael’s main circle of friends in highschool was made up of other jocks, and like with his girlfriend, they weren’t super close. he often got excluded from stuff because he would insist he couldn’t do something or other on account of his mom needing him home that night, or he would get pissed at them for making fun of sam.

michael said family comes first, fuckers!

he did drink and smoke and shit like that back in phoenix when he knew he wouldn’t be missed at home, though. he’s not a goody two shoes, really, he just didn’t want to make things harder than they were for his mom.

one day he did come home drunk, and he’ll never forget how upset lucy looked. he still doesn’t feel like he’s made that up to her. ouch.

one of the guys michael hung out with, probably the closest michael had to a “best friend” was a dude named declan who he’d known since elementary school. declan as the only one of the jock guys who didn’t really hold it against him when he’d skip out on stuff, and the only one he ever even thought about telling the divorce shit to, although in the end, he chickened out of actually doing it.

like i said, they weren’t best friends or anything, but they could have been, y’know?

one of the less nice dudes in his group (probs one michael got in fights with often) started dating michael’s girlfriend about a week after he moved. michael wasn’t really pissed by the time he found out about that; he had way bigger problems to worry about by then.

there was a guy that michael saw around who was kind of a beatnik loner outcast and almost definitely a fag. he liked shakespeare and oscar wilde and probably drew pretty things in the margins of his notebook, and the guys that michael hung out with trashed on him pretty much constantly. michael himself, however, had kind of a thing for the guy: he thought he was cool and would ask when he could to see what he was working on.

you know how michael acted around star at the very beginning of their association? that’s pretty much how he was around this dude. local bi disaster is bi.

the guy (i was going to say fuck it and name him after the guy who i’m sort of basing him on from peggy sue got married, but guess what my fucking luck is, that dude’s name is michael. jfc. let’s call him charlie) thought michael was just there to make fun of him like the others did, but he eventually, he might have come around to trusting that mike really was just interested in his art.

maybe they made out or something before charlie eventually pushed back against him because he didn’t want to get fucking murdered by michael’s friends for making him queer if they got caught

michael always felt like he should have pushed harder to have some sort of relationship with charlie, but once he moves to santa carla, there’s no use in thinking about it anymore.

unlike michael, sam did have a close circle of friends at school, even though he wasn’t as classically “popular” as his brother.

it was probs this reason that made him take the move a lot harder than his brother did.

sam, also unlike michael, was/is really good at school. he’s super skilled at memorizing dates & facts (just look at him rattle off semi-obscure superman trivia lol), and pretty talented at writing to boot. he doesn’t like math as much, but if he works at it, it comes to him pretty quickly.

gifted kid perks™

being that everything came easy to sam, and that he didn’t do any sports like michael did, he had a lot of downtime to read books and comics, keep up w/ pop culture, and hang out with his nerdy friends who liked to do the same. he was even in a d&d group

his character was an elf rogue.

it’s about gay rights

re: sports, it’s not that sam couldn’t be athletic, just that he didn’t ever really want to be. he used to do little league to be like michael and as a concession to his father, but really, he was always put in the outfield, and at the end of the day he would just rather read or watch tv than stand out in the hot sun playing this game he didn’t care about.

when they were little, michael trained himself to get better at reading so that he could read stuff to sam when their parents were fighting or their mom was away. he remembered how his parents (in better times) had read to him, and he knew it made sam feel better, so he put aside his difficulties and discomfort to read to his brother before bed.

the easiest things to read for him were comic books (he had some batmans and supermans and even a few wonder womans, although it wasn’t all superhero stuff. he also had richie rich and, of course, archies), which kind of sparked sam’s love for them--they were something he shared with his brother. <3

i’m thinking sam’s nerd club was the prototypical “mostly boys who never talked to a girl in their lives” type thing, but at the same time i’d like to imagine that at least one of them had a pretty brash (and nerdy) sister who pushed her way into the club, winning their respect by doing what sam did to frog brothers, only with star wars lore.

also, i’m kind of picturing a shy girl from their school who sam takes under his wing when she’s getting bullied, only to find out that she’s really into that stuff too.

she’s part of their d&d campaign; she plays a badass orc barbarian woman and consistently has the best luck with the dice.

the girl is almost definitely a lesbian, but sam asks her to homecoming and stuff like that so that they’ll both have dates; they’re basically each other’s beards.

Gay Rights.

one of the only ways michael could ever really relate to his dad was when they played baseball and the dad taught him Sports™ things, so sam not being at all interested in that stuff made him kind of a disappointment. even still (or maybe for that reason), michael was always the mama’s boy, while sam spent a long time desperate for his dad’s approval.

maybe bc michael and lucy tried really hard to protect him from just how shitty their dad really was, to be honest.

speaking of michael and sam’s dad, i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about him, and now i’ve got Opinions.

contrary to what i guess is the general fandom consensus (at least from what i’ve seen? but my scope might not be that big regarding this character, so if i’m wrong, i’m wrong lol) regarding the dad, i can’t see him being particularly abusive physically.

however, given how sweet and agreeable lucy is, i get a sense that there must have been something REALLY insurmountable in their relationship to make her decide that divorce was the only option. the way i see it, michael and sam’s father started as one of those anti-establishment punks who eventually grew up and just... snapped back the other way entirely to end up as the establishment himself.

main justification for this is that scene w/ michael and star; he doesn’t just refer to his mother being an ex-hippie, he refers to his folks. plus, i mean, there must have been something about the man that endeared him to lucy, right?

so, over the course of their marriage, the guy goes from being a radical dreamer type with maybe some kind punk rock aspirations to being like.... reagan’s “moral majority.”

he starts totally stomping down his old dreams and, in the process, mocking lucy for holding onto anything from their past (you know how she told sam part of the reason she divorced him was that “he never believed in the closet monster”? that was a symptom tbh). i imagine that this, in itself, was soul crushing, but what was really the last straw was when he started in on michael and sam: getting mad and telling michael that he wasn’t going to make it in the MLB and that he had to get his shitty grades up if he wanted to amount to anything (only making him hate school even more lbr), and openly disliking sam’s rejection of sports and stuff in favor of his comic books and MTV.

before the end, i think michael got in a lot of fights with his dad when he’d make passive-aggressive comments at sam for not being enough of a man.

who made you the fucking authority on that, huh?

if he was ever actually physically violent with anyone, it was probably michael during these fights, or mayyyybe even lucy when she’d step in.

eventually, something just tips lucy’s goddamn scales, and she snaps and goes out right then and there to file for divorce. they never saw the point in signing a prenup or anything back then, y’know, so without really fighting for it, lucy wasn’t going to get anything in the divorce.

she doesn’t. they leave arizona with just about the clothes on their backs.

if anyone actually fought against the divorce proceedings, honestly i think it was the dad. he had this idea of his respectable nuclear family, and, even though he was basically an emotionally neglectful POS to his sons, he hated the idea of his wallstreet suit-type coworkers coming to know that his home life was anything less than perfect.

as a last ditch effort, he probably tried to win lucy back at the very last minute, even twisting her arm in an attempt to get her to stay for the boys’ sake, but he clearly no longer knows what attracted her to him in the first place, and the “effort” just makes her sad.

in her mind, she’s already gone by then, you know?

finally, he just ives up and signs the divorce papers. for a hot second it really fucks him up; he goes in to work unshaven and haggard, he’s back to eating like a bachelor, his heart isn’t in what he’s doing. this isn’t about grief over losing his family, though, is the shitty thing. not really. instead, he’s just dealing with uncertainty over how to remake his image.

unfortunately, that’s about as much karma as their dad gets. by the time lucy, sam, and michael are gone for good, he finds it’s easiest to just pretend that they never happened. lucy didn’t demand it, but he sends the occasional bare bones childcare check in the mail and feels like he’s the goddamn father of the year or something, and meanwhile, he remarries a woman that’s both younger and more conservative than lucy, sooner or later fathering a son with her.

lucy isn’t cruel; she doesn’t want the boys to be totally cut off from their father, and even though they both pretty clearly sided with her in the divorce she offers him visitation rights and partial custody (saying that they could stay with him at least every summer and for whatever other holidays he wanted), but he mostly rejects this.

when the boys try to call him to ask, he gives them a noncommittal answer about them maybe visiting next summer, after they’ve all gotten settled in.

they pretty much stop calling after that.

remember how i said michael has an above-average emotional intelligence? he’s definitely the one who helps lucy through the divorce the most. he picks up on the signals she sends about when she needs help and when she needs space, and chides sam for pushing her too hard every now and then.

sam, on the other hand, is definitely a good kid who cares about his mom a lot, but he’s a little more selfish and has a harder time acting like he’s got no problem leaving phoenix for her. the only real fights the two of them get into before all the vampire mess are centered around sam not being sympathetic enough to lucy and michael getting onto him for it.

i think that their dad might end up being a much better father and husband for his new family, and when the eventually visit him long enough to realize this, michael and sam... aren’t sure what to think.

like, they’re glad he’s not repeating the same mistakes he made before, but it’s not fair, is it? to see your little half-brother get the father you always wanted but never got.

their new stepmom is a sweet lady, though. she really does want to try and welcome sam and michael into the family. sam, michael, and their dad all try, but in the end they find it uncomfortable, and the boys know it’s just a facade on all sides to make her happy.

everyone is a little bit relieved when the boys just give up and go back to santa carla.

when michael meets the lost boys (& subsequently learns about dwayne’s past with jasper and, you know, the total boner david has for him, and oh yeah, the fact that these guys are kind of universally gay asf), his only experience with gay shit had been his closeted fumbling with charlie and like, negative stereotypes from media, so he’s kind of amazed by these totally queer dudes who just... take no shit.

like, he gets challenged to a motorcycle race and their leader doesn’t back down at all from the fight michael tries to incite, they take him back to drink and hang out in a semi-nasty man cave. these dudes aren’t what he expects from fags at all (they’re not sissies, and that’s kind of the end of his knowledge about the gay community at that time lol), and he just doesn’t... know what to think about them.

he kind of wants to be them.

like, you know how immediately after seeing them for the first time, michael buys himself a leather jacket and goes to get his ear pierced? there’s a reason for that, babes!

in other news, michael is a cancer and there’s nothing y’all can do about it.

i mean, i have Evidence behind my theory but also i’m just right.

but like, going back to that scene with michael and star again, when he’s introducing himself, you know how he tells her that he was nearly named moonbeam or moonchild or something like that? well, another name for cancers that i’ve seen is moonchildren, after the way cancer is ruled by the moon (and bc the term “cancer” itself has some... other connotations).

in conclusion, lucy really was That Bitch sgdfhghdh

#the lost boys #michael emerson #sam emerson #text post #headcanons #sdfhgh the other ones of these i did i tried to spread shit out between the characters more but here i am #just absolutely MICHAEL POSTING ON MAIN #wait this isn't main #that's alright then #god it's just that. i love him?#also i have no idea where the absolute swarm of ocs that turned up in this post came from but they just kind of... felt right. yknow?#me: gets into the lost boys #me: i hope this doesn't... awaken anything in me

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movingstoriesla · 4 years

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19. Jonathan L.

Meet Jonathan, a supply chain consultant in the waste industry. He currently lives in Pasadena but originally grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area.

[Editor’s note: I originally conducted this interview in June 2018. Wow, how time flies! A lot happened personally between then and now, which meant transcribing, editing, and posting this interview kept getting pushed to the back burner unfortunately. I hope you enjoy this snapshot of life BC (Before Coronavirus)!]

As a kid, how did you get to school?

I remember I always walked to elementary school because it was only about two blocks away, although it was up a really steep hill. I also used to walk to middle school, which is about a mile away, with my friends. I feel like times have changed because parents wouldn't let their kids walk one mile unsupervised anymore.

I used to walk to high school, which was about maybe three-quarters of a mile away. When I was 15, I got my learner's permit and I got a learner's permit to ride a motorcycle, so then I started riding my motorcycle to school, probably because I had the ability to.

Why a motorcycle?

I have no idea. I don't know what my parents were thinking. My dad had one, it was pretty small. I really wanted to ride it and I think he was excited that I wanted to learn but he opened a can of worms [laughs]. I used to ride it a lot and then I got my driver's license. I used to drive or walk, it depended, but I think I started school early, at 7:30, so I think I drove, even though it was right there. I guess it seems lazy, looking at it now, but it was probably the pride of being able to drive.

How would your parents take you around?

We always had a minivan and a small car and between the two of those, that's how I would get around. I remember going on family trips with my two sisters. I swear, we would go in the Toyota Corolla, a five-seater car with five people because that got the best gas mileage and is the most reliable, so that was how I got around.

The BART train came to my town when I was like 13 or 14. For the most part, it was driving in the car to get everywhere.

For college, he moved down to Los Angeles County and attended Cal Poly Pomona.

My parents actually insisted that I start school without a car, that I go to college without a car.

Why did they insist on that?

Because I think they wanted me to live on campus and embrace it. I was far away, so they didn't want to worry about me driving around but it only lasted a month. For anyone who knows southern California, Pomona is very suburban. At the time, the campus was very commuter-oriented, so there weren't a lot of people staying on campus, there wasn't a lot to do on campus, and it was very isolating by not having a car. Anyone who knows where Pomona is, they probably think if you're not from the Inland Empire and not from that area, like oh my gosh, it's so far away because it is probably 20 or 30 miles east of downtown LA. But I ended up getting my car and using it all through college to get around.

What did you use the car for in college?

Everything. Going to the grocery store, you had to drive a car. Nothing nearby.

After college, Jonathan got a job nearby, in Ontario.

I was living in the Ontario area and over those next two or three years, I was in Ontario, in Rancho Cucamonga, in the Inland Empire, which is very big and spread out, so there's really no way to get around the car. I'm sure there are buses -- it sounds silly saying that, right? There's gotta be buses there, but I feel like most people would not have taken the bus, they would've driven.

I ended up moving west because one day, my boss said, “Starting on Monday, we're gonna have you switch to the operation that's in the city of Vernon.” I went from having a 6-mile commune with no freeway and 15 minutes, to having a 45-mile commute that was an hour and 15 minutes in the morning and two hours in the evening, which is why I decided to move west. I still had like a 45-minute commute but it made a big difference.

Do you remember what it was like getting around southern California around that time?

If we take it even further: when I started college in my undergrad in the fall of 2002, the 210 freeway expanded east of San Dimas, all the way to San Bernardino. At the time, it was this huge, huge thing because you could just get on that freeway and you could drive as fast as you wanted because it was brand new and nobody used it. At the time, it was like the greatest thing ever and I'm sure it caused plenty of people to buy houses in Fontana and San Bernardino and Riverside, knowing that they had this brand-new freeway to get there, whereas now it's like a horrible commute. When I'm in Pasadena and I cross over that freeway, it seems like it's always stopped in the direction of the commute, sometimes it's both directions.

I don't really remember [what it was like driving around southern California] because at that point, I feel like I was pretty stuck in Pasadena because it's a great place to live. There’s so many fun things to do there and there's bars and restaurants. The Gold line, which goes downtown, was there but I never rode it. I only rode it a few times but it was limited. It only went to 11:30 at night, so if you wanted to go out for dinner and drinks with your friends in downtown, it was either get on the train at 11:30 or you gotta take a taxi because there was a little bit before Uber was around. Like, who takes taxis?

Pasadena is very walk-friendly, so I think that's why I didn't leave often is because I was in a little bubble. Even today, I can walk to public transit, to bars, to restaurants, to grocery stores, to farmers market. Part of the reason why I like living there is just because of the access to everything that I need without a car.

Is that why you choose Pasadena?

No, I chose Pasadena because it seems like the nicest place I could find that was close to Vernon and there's always the chance my boss would say, “Oh you have to go back to Ontario” at some point, so I didn't want go on the west side to have to fight to get through downtown LA and then still drive another 40 miles. Pasadena was a safe area, there's tons of amenities, it's relatively easy access to Vernon, but it's also easy access to go back east at some point.

Jonathan then left that job and then worked from home in Pasadena (“I would work from home a lot and I would ride my bike around and I still drove, I still wasn't- I was still pro-car. Not pro-car but just like, that's how you get around, so I didn't really think about the alternatives.”) He then accepted a job in Bakersfield and briefly lived there, but then took a three-month trip around Europe and afterwards, moved back to Pasadena.

Did you sell your car before you went away?

Yeah, but then I ended up getting a motorcycle because after quitting your job and taking three months to travel and then doing contract work, that's hit or miss. Cash flow was a little tight but I needed to get around, so I got a motorcycle. I found myself riding it way more than I would've liked to, getting around everywhere because that was my only transportation.

I'm curious about that six months of car-free life. You eventually got the motorcycle but what was your life like transportation-wise in that interim?

I spent a lot of time in and around Pasadena and I think that's when I started to embrace the Metro Gold line train, which was able to get me downtown and all over LA. I've never been much of a bus person or I hadn't been. I've been more inclined to use the bus more recently because I have a better understanding of how to get around and how to use it and whatnot.

And then you got a motorcycle and used that to primarily get around.

Yea, I was doing work and have to go to businesses in the San Fernando Valley and it's 20 miles or 30 miles each way. There'd be traffic and I was splitting lanes, where you drive in between the cars.

There was one day in particular where the traffic was horrible, it was completely gridlocked going to the Valley. I was just splitting lanes very slowly and something didn’t seem right, like there had to have been an accident or something was wrong because it just was not moving and people were looking at me and I didn't have any way to know what was going on and I wasn't listening to anything and finally I got the front and there is a motorcycle that was laying on its side and there was a coroner van, so obviously someone got in a motorcycle accident and died. I felt like, “What a schmuck. Here I am, splitting lanes and getting up to this accident and turns out it's a motorcycle fatality.”

Shortly after that, I’d been riding a motorcycle off and on for 15 years and had never gotten in an accident. Maybe now's the time to count my blessings and be done with it because when you ride a motorcycle for commuting, you have no choice but to split the lines because otherwise you're constantly putting your feet up and down, you'd be crawling, your motorcycle would probably overheat, so you just kind of zip on through. I didn’t get this to commute on, I got it to get around and I found myself commuting on it. I was like, “Well, now is the time to get rid of it,” so I ended up getting a car.

How was it getting around the LA region in a motorcycle?

It's great because there's never traffic but it's also stressful because when you're on the freeway and in the carpool lane and the carpool lane is going 50, 60 miles an hour and the rest of the traffic is stopped, it's always in the back of the rider's mind: “Is a car going to pull out in front of me? Is someone going to change lanes in front of me? Is someone going to get road rage and not try let me get past them?”

I also noticed over time, from my first time riding a motorcycle when I was like 15, 16 years old, no one had cell phones and smartphones didn't exist, so I felt like people were much more focused on the road 15, 16 years ago than they are today because now we have so many distractions. By default, we always have GPS up, getting text messages, getting phone calls. I can tell you with relative accuracy who is distracted while they're driving and who isn't because when you're on a motorcycle and you're going between the cars, you can see which cars are driving straight line and which ones are veering back-and-forth because they're not paying attention.

I remember when I was 16 years old and I had a driver’s license and no cellphone. I was just around and going from my house to school or my house to my girlfriend's house or to the mall. I'd just be gone for hours and I was on my own, I didn't have a GPS as a crutch, I didn't have a phone as a crutch. I had to know where I was going. I think it's interesting because as amazing as technology is, we also use it to reduce our decision-making and the amount of decisions we have to make -- in a sense, dumbing ourselves down because we don't have to think about how to get a route.

I actually went to a friend's house in Glassel Park, Eagle Rock area. I know where she lives, I don't need to put my GPS on, like what if there's traffic or an accident – but no. So I went to and from her house without using the GPS, it was like 8 or 9 miles, but it was one of those things where I’m normally like, “Oh what's her address?” I don't even know what her address is. But I was like, no I'm not going to do that, I know how to get there. I'm going to use my brain and I feel like when I rely on my GPS to get around in my car, I actually miss things more frequently than when I can used to ride a motorcycle before I had the GPS or didn’t have a mount for my phone, so I would have to look in advance where am I going, I'm going to take him at 134 or the 101 to the 118, I'm getting off at the street and then you make left and when I get to this street, I go right and it should be over there somewhere and I would just figure it out. And now the thought of just getting on the road without using a phone as a crutch to get me around is like crazy, although I do it from time to time.

I must say though, that whenever I travel, I try to use the public transit system of wherever I am. It's fun just to see how the people who live there get around. I'm always paranoid and I feel like I always want to have my phone out and it's like where am I getting off, what stop is it? I remember in Portugal and I cannot for the life of me in Lisbon, I could not understand what the person on the speaker was saying and if I remember correctly, they didn't have the stop posted in the train. So the train gets into the station and it sounds like Charlie Brown [womp womp sounds], like what is this and it's really stressful.

I think a lot of it is, to take that back to local life, now that I have lived in Pasadena for nine of the last 10 years and I know how to get around everywhere and now in the last year, I come downtown for work and I know downtown so well. I was afraid to come downtown because it's big, it's crowded, I don't know where anything is located, whereas now I feel like I know it, not like the back of my hand just yet because the way we label our streets is confusing. But I'm getting a much better sense. To your point, we met at a coffee shop that’s at 800 and something Olive, so I know it’s on Olive between 8th and 9th Street. I literally don't need to look at my phone to get here. I think more people would benefit from doing that and I know that’s not necessarily about driving in a car but it's about how we get around. It’s like, we use our phone so much as crutches where we actually don’t think logically. Now that I’m here I understand that if the address starts with 800 that is between 8 and 9th blocks and 900 between the 9th and Olympic in downtown LA.

After the motorcycle, Jonathan went back to owning a car.

I did the same job where I would be going out to the Valley, to South LA, and I bought a Chevy Spark, which is a really small car. Like, bigger than a smart car but smaller than a Corolla, like a micro car. I bought it as an F-you to the system, like what is the cheapest car I can buy that gets good gas mileage and it’s small because logically, this doesn't make sense so many people spend 30, 40, 50 70, a hundred thousand dollars on a car and all it does is, it’s something gets you from A to B. So I bought a Chevy Spark and I got a really good deal. I got one of those price advertised specials and it was really cheap and it was great and I had it for six months until I got my first car accident ever

When you're a Chevy Spark, I think they err on the side of caution because it’s such a small car that I rear-ended it going 5 miles an hour because I was distracted, looking at my phone, and four airbags deployed there is like a knee airbag for me and the passenger and the two regular air bags and because it was like a $12,000 car and the airbags alone were like $2,000 each, it was a total loss. But then ended up just buying a Prius because I needed a car really quickly.

How did you decide on a Prius?

Because I'm really indecisive. I can spend thinking about what type of car to get but it's the number one most sold car in America. It's a hybrid which fits my vibe and at the time, my next-door neighbor was the automotive editor for the LA Times and he was like, “Of all the cars, if you buy that car, it's not going to cause you any problems.” Okay, I don't even think about it anymore but I ended up buying a car twice as expensive as the Spark but it is also more way more comfortable to drive on the freeway. Driving four-cylinder car with a 1.2 liter engine; I've owned motorcycles with bigger engines than [the Spark]. It could go 70 miles an hour on the freeway but then it was really a struggle after that. There were a couple times on a hill, where I literally couldn't go up the hill because it didn't have enough power but I still loved it. I would do it again, I wish I still had that car and I would still have that car if I hadn't rear-ended someone going 5 miles an hour.

So how long were you doing this kind of commuting all over this the region?

Probably three or four years, five years, and then it got even worse because I started doing projects, waste audits and waste education outreach related to California's environment regulations. I started doing it for the County of Los Angeles, which is 4,600 square miles and I was routinely working from home but I'm driving to Rowland Heights or Hacienda Heights is like 30, 35 miles each direction, going to Compton, Inglewood, there's a lot of unincorporated areas, that's 20 to 30 miles south. I was going west all the way to the Ventura county line, which is like 30 or 40 miles and then the kicker was I would be going to Palmdale, Lancaster a lot which is like 70 miles each way, so it actually worked out probably having a Prius because Prius got great gas mileage but it could also get up Highway 14 really easily, whereas the Spark is more of a city car and it definitely struggled. As much as I hate to be living this zero-waste lifestyle [while] totaling a car that’s only six months old. And there's nothing worse than buying two cars in six months. It’s the worst process, buying a car. Speaking of my relationship of transportation, I hate buying cars.

What do you hate about buying cars?

They make you feel horrible. Their goal is to wear you down, to get you to spend as much money as possible. I went to buy the Spark and I was there for three hours. I was like, “This is the car I want, I called you in advance, you told me it was there. We already discussed the price, the gap insurance, I don’t want. I don't want your financing, I don't want anything, I just want the car” and they still try to drag it out to wear you down and I think it really does impact the culture of how people get around. I think most people, there’s a lot of things they would rather do than buy a car. It’s just such an unpleasant experience and that’s the only thing that we do. I may buy a house and hope that it goes value. You buy antiques or collector’s items, they maintain their value. Cars are the biggest waste of money, it’s the biggest money pit. Literally you buy it and then you take possession of it, the moment you sign the contract, you already lost money and then you would have to get insurance, whether you drive that thing or not, you have to have insurance and gas. People say they love their car but if you think about it, it's like the worst thing ever and I really struggle with it because I don't drive my car five days per week and if I got rid of it, I guess I would get used to but it would impact how I get around on the weekends.

I have been looking for some new furnishings for my apartment and just yesterday I found a desk on craigslist and it was 12 miles away. If I didn't have a car, it would've been in a different story: is it available, can I come look at it, do I have to rent a truck or borrow a car from a friend and then incur a cost and then I decide I don’t want buy it or don't want it instead? It's expensive to own a car but it could be expensive to not own a car as well.

When did you actually start working downtown?

I still do that work [waste audits], although usually it's my employees that get to do far-off projects now, but I've been coming downtown for about a year and then July 1st, it will be a year of coming downtown. I love that I can take public transit but for only being 8 or 9 miles away, it's still a commute. Originally, when I started doing it, I was walking to the train station, which was half a mile, so an 8-10 minute walk to the train station. I would come to Union Station, I have to transfer – which, if anyone's been in Union Station, the lines are not close to each other, so it's a 5-minute brisk walk but it could be longer and transferred two stops, get off at Pershing Square, and then walk. It's like 45 to 60 minutes each way, depending on whether I make the connections or not, so it’s easier than driving because we don't have parking at my office but also, driving downtown stressful because there’s tons of traffic, there’s no parking, there’s lots of congestion. I think they're trying to make it more pedestrian-friendly in downtown, so they're making it less desirable to drive a car anyway.

Maybe five or six months ago, I started riding my bike to the train station, which saves me five minutes getting to the train station and I have to wedge my bike onto the train, which is a pain. But instead of getting off at Union Station and transferring and walking, I take it one more stop in Little Tokyo and then have a mile and a half bike ride to my office. It saves at least 10 minutes each direction but sometimes it can be 15 to 20, depending on what the timing of the train and I don't have transfer, so that actually really opened up my eyes to using a bicycle to get around.

Actually it was the LA Metro bike docking stations in downtown and they were doing a promo, like a free month, and I started riding the bikes around and I didn’t really enjoy their bikes because they're only three speeds and it's like either up a hill, down a hill, or flat and they're heavy and I have a low center of gravity, so it's not really my jam but I was like, “I can spend $20 a month to maintain his membership to get around downtown, which is nice because I don’t have to maintain the bike, or I could just start riding my bike so I started riding my bike.

How did you decide to start riding your bike and taking it onto the train?

It was from that free month with the Metro bike share because they got me more comfortable riding a bike downtown. I started learning which streets have bike lanes, which are safer for bikes, where all the docking stations are and also too, my employees commute about 3 miles each way via bike and they were a good model for that, like “I can ride my back around, that's cool.” So I did the free bike thing, I like this idea, I just don't like this bike, so I just got my bike out of the closet, I didn’t even get it tuned up because I need to if I actually want to ride the thing first, so I started riding it and I started seeing the benefits of getting a little bit more accelerated cardio in the morning versus just walking but I was saving between 10 and 20 minutes each direction every day, so I still have a commute but it's much shorter and then now when I’m downtown, I find myself riding my bike just to get around in other places and then I'm even more inclined on the weekend, places that normally I would just by default driven my car to, because it was in the 1 to 3 mile range, now I can just ride my bike, it’s way more accessible.

On the weekends. what do you usually use your car for?

Yesterday I was looking for furniture, I bought a couple of lamps at a garage sale as well. Next Saturday I'm going to some event in Torrance, which is 30 miles away, it's like literally I'm going from the north side of the 110 freeway the entire length to the south side. I was looking at it: Google estimates two hours and 20 minutes each direction on public transit, which is just not very time efficient and that's assuming that they're on time and the buses are routinely not on time. I mean, I could talk all day about transportation and the problems of transportation but they drive on the city streets, they don't have dedicated lanes, so they’re subjected to the same traffic as cars are, so I have to drive, so I guess I could I uber 30 miles, cost $45 or $50 each way, if it's not the surge pricing.

You’ve taken the train and driven by car. What is your experience taking the bus?

I use it occasionally. It’s a balance, though. If I’m near home and I'm feeling lazy, it's easier to have the car but I do know that if I didn't have the car, I would take the bus more frequently. I have had appointments, I had an appointment recently in Beverly Hills and I was looking about driving during a work-related appointment, so I was looking about driving my car. It would take me 45 minutes to get here, I have to park it, then I would have to drive to Beverly Hills, and deal with parking, come back. And then I looked up a bus route that goes down Olympic Boulevard the entire way, it's only like 5 miles but it takes an hour, but I was like, I could do work on the bus in theory.

I took it and it as great because I got to leave my car at home, I was able to work while I was on the bus, I didn't have to deal with parking. I don’t think people think about the risks associated with driving, being the driver of a vehicle, the risk that you could get into an accident or you could get a ticket or both and I was like $1.75 each direction. Public transit is really cheap. I think it's one of the most heavily subsidized metro systems to the country. [Editor’s note: Although it would take some time to properly place LA Metro’s finances within the context of comparable transit agencies, as an FYI: their last Adopted Budget summary page lists: 57.9% from local sales tax and state revenue streams, 36% from bond measures, and 6% from operating and other.]

What do you like about getting around LA, by any mode?

I think that LA is a city with 4 million people, the county has 10 million people, so it's a massive area and the true Angelenos would be quick to say that I don't live in LA. I think the county of LA is like 88 or 89 cities or something make up the County of LA and within those, there's probably hundreds if not thousands of neighborhoods and what I like about it is that when you find the neighborhood that works with you and you learn how to get around, it's actually a really accessible city with a lot of things to do, so I really like Pasadena. I like downtown except downtown is too expensive for what you get, like $2000 for a 500 square-foot studio without parking. But once you figure out where you like to live and where you like to go, then it's great because as I mentioned, between Pasadena and downtown, I can satisfy all my needs, I don't need a car. The challenge is when you go anywhere outside of that bubble. Yes, I can pay $1.75 and take the train from Pasadena to Santa Monica, but I'll take me an hour and 45 minutes, whereas even in traffic it's like a one hour our drive, so it's really hard to justify that when I go to the beach or visit friends, it’s hard to justify that. It’s one thing, okay, I'm in downtown after work, I’m going to meet some friends in Santa Monica, it’s a 30 or 40 minute train ride but then now it's 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock and I’m looking at an hour and 45 train ride back home, that's not really feasible.

That goes into my next question of: what is it that you don't like here? What is the one big thing that you'd want to improve about transportation in LA?

I haven't been everywhere in the world but coincidentally, I was just in Colombia for vacation and one thing that they do really well is bus infrastructure. In the major cities where I visited, which were Cali, Medellin, and Bogotá, the buses have dedicated lanes in the center of the road, they have the bus stops on elevated platforms -- almost like a train platform -- and they're in the middle of the road and they have two lanes for the buses in each direction. That way, if the bus is stopped to pick someone up, another bus can still go around it. It was inexpensive: 2400 pesos to ride the bus, which is just less than a dollar, $0.75 or $0.80 to ride the bus. They had their own dedicated lines. Even though there was horrible traffic in the regular lanes, the buses moved freely.

It’s the single biggest problem that we have, I think, with the LA Metro and other bus systems I've seen around the country: the buses are stuck in the same traffic as the cars and everyone makes this decision: if I have to crawl, why would I crawl on the bus? I'll just drive my own car. The problem is so many people do that, it gets people out of the buses and into their cars. It takes away that incentive to ride the bus. Like me, riding in the carpool lane. If it's not flowing better than the other traffic, then why am I going to go out of my way to pick up a carpool if I'm not going to have the benefit of being in the shared lane? I think it exacerbates the problem because if I’m going to be stuck here, honestly I’d rather be stuck in my car and in my comfort zone, listening to my music, not sitting next to a stranger.

When you went to Colombia, was that your first time taking that kind of bus rapid transit?

That was the first time I've been on bus transit where the buses had their own dedicated lines and it was really really eye-opening to how much more efficient bus transit could be. It was jam-packed, it didn't matter. The morning commute was packed, but the middle of the day was packed as well because it works. The bus system seems to actually work and Colombia being a lower-income country, I’m assuming fewer people own cars, which means they’re more likely use the buses. [Editor’s note: Colombia is considered the third largest market in South America for automotive sales, after Brazil and Argentina] If I just got rid of my car, then I would start using the bus more regularly because it would be a necessity but I have this privilege, this ability, to spend hundreds of dollars a month for the honor of owning a car that I only drive one or two times a week, which sounds absurd when I say that.

I am going to be going to San Diego for the weekend in a few weeks and what I love about it is that I can take Amtrak. It's two hours and 45 minutes from LA to San Diego. It's not cheap -- having a $70 or $72 round-trip -- but I can leave work, I can go two stops to the train station, I can leave 5 PM on a Friday, at 5:10 I think it’s when the train leaves, I can get to San Diego in two hours and 45 minutes with no traffic. No driving the car, I can read a book, I can look at the view, I can drink a beer, I can do whatever I want. I don't have to worry about the driving because yes, San Diego can be an hour and 45 minutes or a 2-hour drive at 5am on Saturday morning but usually it's going take two hours and 45 minutes anyway. Since I'm going to visit friends, I don't need a car when I get there, so it seemed like a no-brainer like, why would I sit in traffic? It would take me 45 minutes to get out of downtown LA on a Friday.

Any final thoughts?

My background is in supply chain management, which is all about process improvements, about getting the foundation right, and I wish we’d spent more time improving the bus infrastructure, in making the train infrastructure more dense in downtown LA because downtown is the hub of public transit in southern California. We should be making it so good that you don't need a car in or around downtown and then start over time to expand it, whereas I feel like because the funding for LA Metro is countywide and we keep on building these trains to go farther and farther away. It already takes 20 minutes to get to Pasadena, it takes 40 minutes to get to Azusa, it takes 60 minutes to get from Claremont to Union Station on the trains because they’re all local, there's only one track in each direction, so there's no opportunity for express trains.

Rather than encouraging people to live further away because now they have this train that can get them there, I wish we would make the infrastructure denser in the center and then just slowly over time expand it out. That way, it facilitates the dense growth, it also facilitates just being completely car-free. I understand it's less equitable if you only spend [funding] in a certain area but the hub of the LA basin is in downtown LA, so that's where it all originates.

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promiscuous-jalapeno · 7 years

Text

Forgive Me

[Jumin Han] [Jihyun Kim/V] [Saeran Choi]

{Angst}

Word Count: 1,932

ANON: Jumin and how he handles the loss of Jihyun imagine please! I wish Cheritz would have touched more on this. If you could include a Saeran and Jumin interaction in it that would also be great bc u know :) thank u so much daddio

A/N-I don’t normally title my one-shots but I did for this one. I had a tough time writing this piece. I put a lot into it and I hope that I conveyed the emotion over well enough. I feel this is, like the anon said, a subject that is not touched upon enough. I hope you enjoy reading it, and the emotion rings true~

Jumin had decided in that moment that there were few things in this life more eerie than being in someones home after they’ve passed away. He’d never been one to reminisce or stew in sentimentality, even at the news of someone’s death. What was done is done, and only fools could find the time to waste thinking of what could have been or what once was. But for all of his efforts to repress those feelings that threatened to surface, the casual ways in which he waved off sympathetic looks and condolences from employees, the ability to sleep had escaped him entirely.

In the early hours of the morning he found himself looking out over the city, wondering what it would be like to be any one of them out there, anyone but Jumin Han. But the worst part of it all was not the sadness, but the anger and hatred he held towards his best friend. The confusion, the bitterness and resentment for dying as he did and the feeling of being utterly alone, not even bothering to struggle against those tangled strings that wrapped around his neck and confined him.

It was as if someone else inhabited his mind. He was watching from somewhere else, wondering who was pulling the strings of this depressing puppet show, this wasn’t him. This wasn’t his voice or his hands. And that evening, instead of going home this stranger was instructing driver Kim to make turns to that place he once swore he wouldn’t visit. These weren’t his feet, taking slow measure steps into the living room. And yet, there he stood, in the dim light of Jihyun’s apartment with the icy grip of regret squeezing his chest so tightly he thought he’d forget how to breathe. Yes, there were few things more eerie than this.

He didn’t know how much time had passed until he finally found it in himself to turn on the lights and walk around. It was smaller and held a kind of warmth and comfort, so different from his penthouse. We truly were polar opposites until the end, he thought, thumbing through the bookshelf full of sheet music and poetry, famous photography compilations, art and humanities volumes so thick he couldn’t possibly imagine the contents. All these things. His family would arrive soon to decide what would become of the apartment and all of the things it held. Everything he saw felt like a piece of Jihyun, and in a way, he imagined this last look into the heart and mind of the man he’d known almost all his life as a final farewell to his dearest friend.

The closet held several boxes of personal items. Yellowing and brittle music sheets, most likely ones he’d played with his parents as a child. A box of envelopes he almost tossed aside before he recognized his own name. With hands slightly shaking he got to his knees under the soft light above him and began to sift through them all.

“Always the sentimental fool,” Jumin spoke. He was glad he was alone, his voice came out quite tremulous. He had forgotten all about them, and how after one night drinking at the penthouse, Jihyun had inquired about the notes he had written and wondered if he might keep them for himself, ‘for old times sake.’

‘Jumin, what is it like to get along so well with your father? I often wonder if that could happen for me someday…”

“…I think your photographs show true potential. It would be a waste of talent to pursue anything else, and I’d encourage you to continue despite what your parents say. I’m sorry it’s been so difficult for you lately…”

He set the box aside, unable to bring himself to read another word. He felt this thunderous force erupting inside of himself. It whirled in his head and his skin grew hot, threatening to release itself any way it could. Jumin bent forward where he sat on the floor, one palm pressed so firmly to the ground it was as if he meant to push the earth away from himself. The free hand explored his face, mouth gaping slightly at the wet feeling on his cheeks. He had let himself go for a moment. Let his throaty sobs echo in the empty room. And then, as quickly as it had come on, he relaxed his shoulders with a sigh and sat up straight. Desperate to re-jar those bits of himself that spilled and scattered, he scrambled through more boxes until he found something else that could occupy his mind.

Lots of photographs, Jumin was surprised to see some even featuring himself at various ages. His hair had been a bit shorter then, a boyish smile plastered on his face. It was strange to view himself like that. Some of the photos were more recent. Pieces he most likely felt weren’t worthy to be added to collections, and then, a familiar vineyard. Jumin held it in his hands, lost in the vibrant, trim rows of vines lining the vast rolling hills and the memory of that day. This picture was taken one of the last times he had seen Jihyun.

He could feel his friend slipping away, but what occupied his mind the most were meetings and documents, business deals and trips. Until a meeting was cancelled, and they found themselves across the table from one another, sharing a bottle of exquisite Malbec while looking over the rolling hills kissed by golden sunlight. He always found vineyards to be very pleasing to the eyes. The way the rows lined the earth, like the stripes on a fine pressed suit, he loved that.

“To be honest, I’m beginning to worry about her,” Jihyun set his glass down lightly on the hard wood table.

“And your reasoning?” Jumin stopped eating, noticing the inflection and weight the conversation was gathering.

“Small things,” he sunk into his chair, dragging his eyes across the horizon in an attempt to avoid the details. “I’m probably worrying too much. I want to support her, but…”

He looked as if he wanted to say more, a flash of hesitancy and fear in his eyes before he lips pulled back into the familiar small smile. He looked so vacant…so distant. It was a lonely sort of sadness he usually felt in himself as he continued to stare in silence. An expression that would never leave his mind after that day. Jumin had wanted to press further. She had been saying some strange things recently, now that he thought about it. When she spoke, it was as if there were hints of another person inside of her. Something deep down in the shadows of her heart began surfacing in small moments. Instead, he listened to that voice in his head telling him that it was between them. They were in a relationship, and Jumin wanted to respect that. If Jihyun decided to speak, he would listen. But it didn’t feel right to force him for personal details.

Jumin sat watching his friend, who sat watching the fields. Nothing but a few gentle breezes passed between the two. It carried the scent of dirt and trees, the rich aromas of the wine in front of him enticed him to take another large sip.

“Rika has always been a person of strong will and conviction. She loves you. I’m sure in time, if help is needed she will make it known,” he broke the silence at last.

Jihyun turned to him, nodding with a smile, the direct sunlight splashing across his face. “You’re probably right,” he looked up to the sky. “Say, the lighting is near perfect. Would it be alright for me to shoot for a while out there?”

“I’d have to pinch you to be sure you were really Jihyun Kim if you didn’t ask,” Jumin smirked. “Follow me.”

The two walked the grounds in silence for some time as the sun slowly began to tuck itself behind the hills. Jumin enjoyed seeing Jihyun so focused, watched as he framed the shots and adjusted the settings on his camera as they walked the rows.

“What’s that up there?” Jihyun’s feet halted and he pointed to a post with a wooden box attached.

“That’s an owl box,” Jumin said matter of factly, “a natural defense against the rodents that like to dig and gnaw the roots of the vines.”

“Ah, I see. Still smart as ever,” Jihyun quipped.

“I have to be to run the business. And besides, I could say the same for you,” he gestured to the camera.

“If you’d just let me teach you,” he insisted.

“Don’t start that again. I have no use for such things-“

Their voices carried off into the distance, the conversation continuing on like usual. In the morning they parted, the topic of Rika never surfacing again.

He felt sick with regret, sitting in the apartment clutching the photograph tightly. Why didn’t I press you? Where had that supportive friendship from his childhood gone. Lost away in obligations and business. Missed phone calls and unopened text messages. His stomach churned thinking of all the meetings and luncheons he sat through smiling while Jihyun was suffering alone, carrying the burden of it all. How many nights he sat with Elizabeth, enjoying wine before bed instead of calling him. He couldn’t stay in this space any longer. He stood up, tucking the photograph in his jacket pocket and grabbing the box of letters.

A figure at the door stopped him in his tracks. How long had he been here? Shaggy red hair and a thin frame, Saeran stood looking just as terrible as Jumin felt inside. He had a darkness under his eyes, his hands wringing themselves with nervousness.

“Saeyoung said you were here…he’s waiting downstairs but I just wanted…”

Of course, Saeyoung had tracked me. He’d have to remember to talk to him about that later. But for now, he focused on the twin in front of him. Apparently he had been talking this whole time. Or rather, mumbling apologies and jumbled explanations between long pauses, like he was trying to find the right words though he must have been practicing what he wanted to say for days on end, like a mantra.

“You’re not sleeping well, are you,” Jumin interrupted him. When the slow realization of what he had been asked, Saeran shook his head.

Suddenly, Jumin felt the weight of the box in his hand. Hesitantly, he handed it over to Saeran. “If you really want to know what kind of person V was, you can look in that box. You aren’t sleeping anyway…at least it will give you something to do.”

“Weren’t you taking-,” he cut himself off, “Is this really okay…?” his voice reminded Jumin of the mewling of a weak kitten.

“If you still feel uncomfortable after reading, you can always give it back.”

Jumin wanted to leave right then, having not much more to say that could comfort or heal a wound like that. He made he way past Saeran and opened the door, pausing just before he left.

“You can stop apologizing and feeling guilty. There is nothing to be sorry for. After all, if you knew V...you’d know he never would have blamed you in the first place.”

The door closed and Jumin made his way down the hall. His heart beat hard against his chest, his mind filled with the hope that one day he could believe those words applied to his own guilt and sorrow. That one day he might forgive himself.

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Thank you for reading!

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagines #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin han #jihyun kim

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shuakkinda-blog · 7 years

Text

Mingyu crushing on you !! // scenario

A bullet-point scenario starring everyone’s favorite housewife and puppy Mingyu!

Request scenarios and reactions on my page if you’d like :)

- I love Kim Mingyu

- you know why?

- it’s because he’s just so

- confident

- and talented in so many ways (BOY DO I LOVE TALL BOYS WHO CAN DANCE)

- and shameless

- and legit the type of guy you’d wanna bring home to your parents

- he’s a m a z i n g

- and if you’re the person he develops a suuuper huge crush on

- well god damn you are one lucky girl

- ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE YOU INTO THE STORY

- you’re a few weeks into your internship at pledis, and you’ve already met a handful of svt members

- but not all of them

- so one day, you’re busy putting away some finished paperwork for your job at the company building

- you hit an intersection between two hallways when all of a sudden

- a huGE ASS TREE COMES RUNNING INTO YOU FROM THE OTHER HALLWAY (yall should know what I mean by tree lolol)

- you get knocked onto the floor, and it looks like whatever hit you took a fall as well

- the paperwork in your hands go flying all over the place, and the back of your head hits the wall pretty loudly

- as you rub the part of your head that hurt, the “tree” (a really handsome one, I must say) looks to you as he rests on his side, eyes widened and mouth slightly agape at the sight of you

- you recognize him

- it’s one of the members you haven’t talked to before

- he’s not just any tree

- he’s the visual tree, Mingyu

- “OH MY GOD I’M-I’M SO SORRY- ARE YOU OKAY???” he panics as he gets off the floor and kneels next to you to check if you’re fine

- your eyes squint at the slight pain, but you nod yes anyways. “Yes, I’m fine.”

- it really hurts actually lol

- he helps you sit up against the wall and checks your head, figuring that the pain could only be coming from there since you’re clutching it like that

- he notes the pain in your face and shakes his head

- “don’t lie, I know it hurts.”

- you try to convince him that you’re fine as you begin to collect your scattered files, but he grabs your hand before you could grab another sheet of paper

- “come here,” he says and assists you in getting up. he gets you to sit on a chair in one of the vacant offices

- once you get settled he continues, “I’m gonna go grab an ice pack from the freezer downstairs. Don’t pick up another piece of paper from the floor while I’m out.”

- one side of you is thinking

- “aw this guy is so sweet and considerate, I’m mELtiNG”

- while the other side is just

- “bitch don’t tell me what to d0 lmao″

- so you get up to collect the rest of your sheets in the hallway before quickly scampering into the room again to pretend you were there the entire time

- you hope the guy is dumb enough to not notice that there’s suddenly no mess in the hallway when he gets back

- and luckily he’s too busy thinking about the pain in your head to care about the papers at the moment

- so he comes rushing back into the office with a small cloth and an ice pack

- he takes your hand off of the part of your head that you were holding and places the ice pack there

- “I’m so sorry, really. You don’t know how bad I feel right now,” he says while holding the ice against your head

- “No, it’s okay,” you reassure him. “I should have been looking before crossing.”

- “I was the one who slammed into you though,” he replies. “I shouldn’t be running around here in the first place.”

- you hate to waste his time so you take a hold of the ice pack and get up from your seat

- “I can put the ice pack back in the freezer later. Thank you for your help, Mingyu.”

- “oh,” he says. “Are you sure?”

- you nod

- “okay, I’m sorry again. Really.” You can tell he’s being sincere

- the both of you exchange bows and you proceed to leave the office with your files

- “hey, you’re y/n, right?” he asks

- “yeah, that’s me. I’m surprised you know my name,” you say shyly

- he laughs, “yeah the other members talk about you sometimes. I’m actually surprised you know my name too, since there’s so many of us.”

- “well, they told me to watch out for a tall and clumsy guy around here named Mingyu, so I figured that guy is you.”

- Mingyu’s jaw drops, but his shocked expression turns into a smile

- “wow, from what I heard about you from the other guys, I really wasn’t expecting you to be this sassy,” he scoffs

- “well, it looks like they haven’t told you enough,” you laugh and leave the room *high-fives self*

- as you’re putting all the files away in their respective places, you can’t help but think of how sweet and cute Mingyu is

- like, sure he just bodyslammed into you a few minutes ago

- but his accommodating nature was so niceee

- and he’s got looks on top of that :33

- you can’t possibly think he could get any better oh boy just wait

- little do you know that Mingyu is still cursing at himself for messing up in front of an innocent intern

- a pretty cute one too lol

- he wishes you guys could’ve met in a better way

- but it’s okay, he thinks to himself

- to make up for it, he’s gonna make an actual effort to get to know you and fix his reputation

- he was drawn to the unexpected level of sass you gave him a piece of

- well, if you’re gonna give him a slice of your attitude

- he’s gonna give you a slice too

- a slice of homemade cake, that is

- bc the poor puppy would still feel bad about what happened the other day

- he’ll find you a day after the incident to hand you a slice of cake that he made himself

- you’d insist that you don’t deserve the slice, since you think half of the incident was your fault

- but he’d literally open up the container of cake and shove a piece of it into your mouth

- “iF YOU DON’T ACCEPT THIS, THEN I’LL ACCEPT IT FOR YOU,” he says

- “I also spent 3 hours trying to make this last night, pls take it :(”

- “you’re cute too,” he’d say in his head

- so you taste it and

- omg

- it’s not cake

- it’s heaven

- you immediately compliment him on the cake, and he blushes

- “if he can make this cake by himself, then I guess he isn’t as clumsy as the others say???” you think to yourself

- he has redeemed himself

- AND THUS your friendship with Mingyu begins !!

- it wouldn’t take long for him to fall for you though

- believe me when I say he is a softie

- this makes Mingyu the fluffiest crush-er

- he’s so into making his thing for you obvious

- but 99% of the time you’ll take the hints he gives you as jokes

- he’d also be super willing to do couple-ish things with you even if you guys are just friends bc this boy just cAN’T WAIT

- he wants you to know that he can be a really good potential boyfriend

- so whenever you guys hang out, he’d try extra hard to be funny, impress you with his skills, and ofc flirt

- “someone’s looking really pretty today~” he’d say. he’ll probably flash a smile and wink as well what a grease ball

- “shut up, Mingyu. we all know I look like shit today,” you’d reply

- “but you look beautiful all the time,” he’d say in his head

- his flirting would be so frequent

- the members would see it too and probably want to puke

- but it would be so frequent to the point that the members would think he’s just messing with you

- they wouldn’t actually think it’s a crush

- if anything, Mingyu would have to talk to Wonwoo about liking you if he can’t keep it to himself any longer:

- “hey Wonwoo,”

- “yeah?”

- “what if I told you that... I actually like y/n?”

- “wait, rEALLY?”

- “yeah, man.”

- “LOL I thought all of the flirting was just for fun.”

- “nah, dude. I actually meant it.”

- Wonwoo would ask Mingyu if he is actually gonna confess or something, and Mingyu would definitely say yes

- but he doesn’t know how to do it???

- like, he’s got the guts to confess and everything

- but planning out a cute way to tell you how he feels would be difficult

- he doesn’t want you to laugh at him when he actually confesses bc the last thing he wants you to think is that his confession is just another one of his flirty “jokes”

- Mingyu wants you to catch onto what he’s trying to say right away so that the whole moment stays special :’)

- Meanie YES would have to brainstorm through a whole lot of confession ideas

- and then the perfect plan will hit them

- so on one fine day

- Mingyu would text you during one of your intern shifts

- “Y/N Y/N Y/N”

- “what do you want now,” you’d text back

- “are you in the company building rn?”

- “yeah, why?”

- “meet me in the practice room asap k byeee”

- “uh okay?”

- so you finish up whatever you were doing before heading down a floor to the practice room

- but when you arrive at the practice room, you check the tiny door window

- there’s no lights on???

- all you see through the window is pitch black

- “is Mingyu even there?” you think to yourself

- you hesitate for a moment, but a part of you just doesn’t ask and opens the door anyways

- you look straight ahead and find a orange glow coming from the floor

- it’s a cake with candles

- and being illuminated by the cake is none other than your favorite germ ball

- Mingyu

- “dude, wth you look really creepy right now,” you’d laugh

- Mingyu would try hard to hold in his laughter and say

- “shut up, just come here.”

- “can I turn on the lights at least?” you ask

- “NONONO just sit here please~”

- so you walk over to the cake and sit in front of it. Mingyu is sitting across from you. the cake is all that’s in between you and him

- you spot an envelope to the right of the cake with your name on it

- he spots your glance at the envelope and says “go ahead, take it.”

- “Mingyu, if you think it’s my birthday today, you’re about 6 months off.”

- he’s nervous

- “IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. JUST OPEN THE ENVELOPE FOR GOD’S SAKE, Y/N.”

- so you do

- and inside the envelope is a card with a little heart on it

- you open up the card and read its contents:

- “y/n I know this will sound stupid but please just answer this question:”

- “do you like me?”

- “if so, blow the cake candles.”

- “if not, just use your hands to blow out the candles.”

- tbh the idea did sound kind of stupid but

- you blush

- he’s caught you off guard

- and for real this time

- truth is that you’ve liked him since you guys first met

- you always thought his flirty jokes were all to poke fun at you

- they were cute

- but you didn’t really think he meant it

- everything was slowly coming together now

- does he... really like you??

- welp it’s time for you to throw another snarky comment to make suRe

- “you’re trying to get me to burn off my fingers, aren’t you” you say

- and you expect him to snap back at you

- but he doesn’t:

- “y/n listen, I really like you. I just wanna know if you feel the same.”

- “just please answer the question.”

- so

- you take a deep breath to work up the strength needed to blow out the candles

- but just before you can blow the candles out

- Mingyu quickly shoots out a breath of air and beats you to it

- and he swiftly takes your cheek in his hand to plant a kiss on your lips

- DSJKFHDSLHBGIUJGBSGKDJFBGLIFDUGJBDN;OF WHAT IS LIVING

- you smiled into the kiss and he followed

- he lets go of your lips after taking in the moment

- “that kiss might be sweeter than the cake I made for you.”

- you punch him in the shoulder

- “you’re gross,” you laugh

- he moves to your side of the cake to give you a warm hug in the dark

- “but I wouldn’t have you any other way,” you say with a smile

#CHEESYCHEESYCHEESY #but fr i just love kim mingyu #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

it isn’t that hard to like you or love you. i’d follow you down, down, down

summary: ransom’s an insecure bitch TM and there’s no character development happening here. (mostly before that other ransom thing I wrote, but a small peak after bc i couldn’t resist)

warnings: sex toys. a lot. and a lot of sex. and you know, ransom always entails some weird, rough shit, so.

word count: a little over 10,300

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

It had been years since you’d felt something inside you other than Ransom*. (x)

*Seriously. Years.

Your relationship with Ransom didn’t have the purest start. The ski-lodge was something both of your families looked at as a restart for the year, almost a form of damage control. He needed to stop partying so much and you needed to settle down. His group included his parents, Joni, Meg, Walt, Donna, and Jacob. He told you later that they never invited Harlan because this was usually their time to get wasted and say terrible things about him.

Your group was your mother, father, his two sisters, their husbands, a few of their children, and your boyfriend, Jeremy Vanderbilt. You hadn’t invited him, however, that was your father’s doing. Why? Because he was smart. He was a businessman. And Jeremy was nowhere near as attractive as you—at least, that was what you heard Dad tell Mom one night—so, there was no chance of him leaving you for someone else.

You’d confided to your father that the relationship wasn’t going well. You’d met Jeremy in high school and yes, you’d recognized that he wasn’t the most attractive man, but he was sweet, and you just got along with him. As time went on and you discovered he had absolutely no ambition, you worried that you were just going to be stuck with a sad replica of your parents’ life.

Eventually, your father would give him a job at the family company—a position that should be yours but never would be, never mind that, though. You would be a model up until he got you pregnant, the absolute last thing you wanted right now, and then you’d spend the rest of your life bitter and unsatisfied, tolerance would soon turn to resentment and you’d probably kill him one Christmas Eve with an axe. You wanted more, you wanted exciting.

Ransom was…in a way, exciting. Though the first week you’d been made aware of his unfortunate existence, you tried to avoid him like the plague. It started when your families were checking in, which happened to occur at the same time--something you often thought about because if it had just happened at a completely different time, you might have never met the Thrombeys. You might have never met Ransom. Now, you weren't sure you believed in soul mates or anything like that, but it always just kind of seemed like fate to you.

You were trying to get out of the lobby as fast as possible, just retire to your room because the trip up there was nothing short of sickening. Mindlessly, you’d walked into Ransom and because you were an actual person, began apologizing. Since he was just a beast, not a person, he was a total dick about it.

Whatever, you had encountered that a lot. People with money were often the worst. It didn’t bother you all that much. By the time you were in your room, soaking in a bath, you had completely erased it from your mind.

You didn’t see him again until three nights later when you pretended you needed to take a call outside to duck out of a dreadful dinner. Meg was there and she was in desperate need of something to smoke, which you happened to have on you. She was nice, telling you about how she intended to start college in January after spending two years on a break to try to figure out what she wanted to do.

When Ransom appeared, he was radiating arrogance. And heavy intoxication. He instantly started in on Meg, making every comment he could think of to get under her skin. Maybe it was that you guys had been out there smoking for nearly half an hour that diffused her anger, but she refused to engage and returned inside.

At that point, he had nothing to focus on but you. He’d asked for your name and you told him to fuck off. From that moment, Ransom showed an interest in you that you simply did not understand.

You refused to play his games for a while. You liked Meg, she was nice, unlike the rest of the family. And Ransom constantly tried to antagonize her. But see, your family and his family were the only obscenely rich families there at the moment. Most people were likely in Colorado, unfortunately, your moronic father insisted on Utah. Linda was an elitist, and well, you guys were all officially best friends.

It started with joint dinners, then breakfasts, then it was every god damn meal of the day. Your mother, Linda, and Joni needed to get away from their husbands constantly. Richard, your father, one of your mother's sisters, and Walt liked cigars and card games and would disappear anywhere they could to play out some pathetic knock-off casino scene. Meg loved the children and didn't mind babysitting, something you helped with when you could. Oh, and Ransom had taken quite an interest in Jeremy.

He hadn't really been around much at the start. You'd heard he was making his way through the female staff anyway, just trying to cause as much drama as he possibly could. No one in the Thrombey family seemed surprised and they didn't comment on it at all. Your family had the decency to wait until you were all in your rooms and could gossip about it behind their backs.

But then he did start showing up. Whenever Jeremy would hug you, kiss you, or just try to touch you in any unnecessary way, Ransom would give you this knowing look. That was around the time you started trying to pull away but that was only annoying Jeremy and sometimes Ransom would find you alone and you had no excuse to leave. You would have to admit that you were scared to be alone with him. You would have to admit why.

He was gorgeous, that was why. And dangerous and had clearly never heard the word 'no' before. You wanted to be the one to introduce him to the concept but you doubted your ability to tell him no.

One night, when Jeremy came to bed drunk and very handsy, you ended up screaming at each other. He was a drunk idiot with impaired judgment so you were the one that left the scene. It was stupid, but you decided to look for Ransom. Maybe you had wanted to tell him to stop getting your boyfriend drunk or maybe you just knew you had an alibi for not returning to your room that night. Not like Jeremy would be awake any time soon anyway.

Nothing happened, not really, you made it very clear that you were still with your boyfriend. But Ransom knew how to get all the information about your life that he wanted. Surprisingly, at some point, he started telling you some things back. He hated his family and you hated yours.

Perfect match.

Now, you guys would sit next to each other at those family breakfasts and dinners and whisper condescending things about everyone, Jeremy included. One thing you noticed, Ransom was a lot nicer to Meg and you figured it was because he knew it made you uncomfortable. In fact, Joni and Meg were the only people at the whole table who you could tolerate for more than two hours. Jeremy was starting to notice your new friendship, but what was he going to do about it?

One night, which would turn out being your last night at the lodge, Ransom showed up at nearly three in the morning. You'd figured he was with your boyfriend as you were alone, but he showed up solo.

You were hardly in anything, it was late, late enough that you wanted to hit him for being there—however, manners, you assumed, were foreign to him.

Amid a snarky comment you could no longer remember, he just moved forward and kissed you. You shoved at him, walking backward until you were forced to stop at the entertainment center in the main living room. He grabbed your face, holding you there, making it impossible to pull away from him. It was then that you sort of just crumbled, you wrapped your arms around his neck, a cue for him to pick you up.

He did, grabbing one thigh at a time and hauling your body up so your exposed cunt brushed against the stupid sweater he was wearing. He set you atop the entertainment center and you dropped your hands to his pants, yanking them out of your way. His hand found your center and he groaned when he felt how wet you were.

"Damn, is that all for me?"

You snorted. "I was fucking my fingers when you rudely interrupted."

He grabbed your jaw, locking his eyes with yours. "You’re going to show me that before I leave."

Without patience, he used one of his hands to shove yours away and pulled himself out of his pants.

You were going to turn down but he used his hold on your jaw. "Just keep looking at me, baby."

You felt his tip against your skin, he began to run it through your slit, just barely brushing your clit every now and then. "Ransom, please—"

He slipped in just barely and you gasped. The head of his cock alone was a stretch you’d never quite felt.

You eagerly spread your legs further. "Keep going."

He slid in just a little more, groaning. "Fuck, you are tight."

And he was huge, but you could not tell a guy like Ransom that. He made you keep looking at him as he continued giving you more of his cock. His eyes showed pleasure, amusement, and definitely mischief. He wanted you surprised, it was why he didn’t let you look. You thought several times that you truly couldn't take any more of him but you knew that letting him know that would just get you that smug smirk, so you kept your mouth shut.

He gave you all the time you needed to adjust to him. He kissed you until you were the one bucking your hips and squirming. Then he fucked you hard and rough, and it was disgusting. He used you like you were a doll, whispering filthy things in your ear and sometimes making you say some back. He pulled your hair and choked you.

When you could hardly keep holding on to him, he decided it was time to go. He scooped you up and carried you to your bed, and didn’t cover your body or clean his cum off of you because he wanted Jeremy to find you.

Which he did, and by the time you woke up the next morning, everyone was packing. Jeremy had told your family about it and everyone knew immediately that it was Ransom. Your parents were furious, your aunts were entertained, and Jeremy was heartbroken. You’d never been a cheater so you had no idea what the hell to say to him. It didn’t seem like he’d wanted you to try anyway so you just shut up while everyone around you moved to get out of here quickly.

When your mother and her sisters went to lunch, you decided to head down to one of the many coffee shops. You took your youngest niece with you because she couldn’t help pack and you hardly wanted to be alone. With some coloring books and a wide collection of colored pencils, you guys settled in.

She was telling you all about her favorite tv show as you sipped on a latte. You’d order her a hot chocolate that she’d already downed like the demon she was.

As you looked up to ask a server for another hot chocolate, you spotted Meg. She waved at you and you were just hit with this terrible idea. You told your niece to stay at the table and you would return with more hot chocolate. After a little small talk with Meg, and a dismissive hello from Linda, you’d asked if you could borrow Meg's phone. Per your lie, your boyfriend was supposed to meet you and your niece but had yet to show and you’re phone had died.

You slipped outside and searched for Ransom’s number. Thankfully, even though she clearly hated him, she had it. You pretended to make the call and then headed back inside. You returned to your table with some hot chocolate and sat back down to color again. Everything was normal, you had not made any irreversible mistakes as of yet.

Emphasis on yet, however. When you guys returned up to the room, Jeremy was on the phone trying to get a separate flight from the rest of you. As soon as he’d seen you, he headed out onto the balcony and slammed the door shut behind him. Good.

You disappeared into your bedroom, he wouldn’t dare step in there. You slipped into a cream-colored lacy bodysuit that actually covered nothing and hopped onto your mattress. You took several videos and faked even more orgasms, your only concern was that the videos looked good. Ransom had said he was going to watch you touch yourself before he’d left. Maybe he’d forgotten, but you didn’t exactly want him to.

You weren’t sure you had a winner but you had to stop when your father banged on your door and gruffly told you it was time to leave. Later, when you located your favorite video, you sent it. No name or explanation. You just included: you’re welcome. Blocking your number, by the way. Xoxo

Three days later, once you were home and back in your apartment, just trying to work and avoid the embarrassment of all your friends knowing you’d cheated on your boyfriend, there was a knock on your door. No one knew where you lived, it was a small, cozy place not meant for anyone but you.

Opening the door, you were not expecting to see Ransom there. "You didn't say goodbye."

You snorted. "I would have assumed you would be used to getting fucked and then forgotten about."

He smirked before glancing around. His expression soon showed his distaste. "Are you poor or something?"

"It’s meant to keep away the rich."

"You know, I woulda called..."

But you’d blocked him. "Some would take that to mean that I just didn’t want you to come at all."

"Well, I don’t much care about what other people want."

You’d been living together a month when he had located one of your toys. You thought he’d be excited to bring something in for just a little extra when you two were fucking. Nope, you were very wrong.

He was irritated beyond comprehension. He took your favorite shower toy—the one with a suction cup—stuck it on a kitchen chair and made you sit on it. For hours. Not allowed to move or touch yourself. All while he told you what he would do to you. You know, if you were a good girl. Which, according to him, you were very much not.

He’d then proceeded not to fuck you for a week. Seven motherfucking days. Despite your best attempts. Joining him in the shower. Blowing him in the Beamer. Sending pictures. Leaving voicemails begging him to let you feel him inside of you. Not a thing could crack his resolve.

Well, except you pouting about it on that 7th day. It was Christmas. You were watching Cartoon Network, waiting for the bests. Thinking back, you were sure it was in addition to the stress he felt over having to deal with his family. But whatever, he’d still fucked you and you’d still been three hours late to the annual Christmas party.

He’d proudly told everyone it was because your cunt was the only present he’d wanted and didn’t care when you nearly choked on your wine because of it. Donna tried to throw a chair at him afterward, imploring him to consider the children present. Not that Jacob had even heard, as he was too busy on Twitter. He did live stream the fight, though, claimed it got turned into a meme.

Even though Ransom didn’t tell you why you weren’t a “good girl”, you’d figured it was his insane pride. Ransom would be the kind of guy to freak out over their girlfriend fucking anything else, even inanimate objects. You didn’t get rid of the rest of your toys, you just tried to hide them better.

So, the ones you thought you couldn’t part with were placed in your suitcases because you knew he wouldn’t find them. He had quickly come to terms with your extensive collection. You loved airports and loved being photographed at them, that meant suitcases were of the utmost importance to you. They lined the walls of your closet, the one he had added to his house for you when you moved in—because the idea of you two being able to share a closet was hilarious. He had twice as many sweaters as you and you had more dresses than he had scarves. In short, you guys weren’t interested in sharing closets. A house, a bed, sure. But trying to fit into a single closet probably would have ended your relationship.

Speaking of ending the relationship. You’d walked in, dozens of shopping bags in hand, finding him sitting at the table with your favorite vibrator just inches away from his coffee mug. You’d wanted to know why exactly he was in your closet in the first place! It was your closet, your suitcase! He had no right!

It took a total of three seconds before you were screaming at him. And about ten seconds for him to start screaming back. You were both fans of angry fucking, which was the only reason he’d fucked you then. Bags and new clothing was strewn all around, a chair on its side because he stood up to intimidate you, and you decided to try to kick the chair at him. He pushed it over and then shoved you against the wall.

A blink of an eye later, he had your skirt pushed up and your underwear pulled out of his way. He indelicately thrust into you until you were so, so, so fucking close. But he’d just kept saying wait for me, baby. Just wait a little longer. I want to feel it together. And you being stupid, believed him. You were just about to slip, despite your sheer desperation to experience the pretty picture he was painting, when he pulled out. He stroked himself several times, leaned over to bite down on your shoulder, and then he spilled out onto your skirt, your thighs, and the fucking floor.

He kissed your shoulder, then turned, tucked his cock back in his pants, and left. Oh, but not before he grabbed the vibrator. You didn’t speak to him for eleven days and he didn’t seem to care too much.

This was at the same time your parents were doubling down on their efforts to make you leave him. They constantly introduced you to their friends’ children, men your age who were kind, smart, and a lot less spoiled and entitled than Ransom.

Honestly, that tenth night that you’d fallen asleep alone, you actually considered listening to them. He must have known something was up that morning, because he did actually know you and care about your feelings even if he didn’t act like it. You hadn’t said or done anything differently, you just took your coffee and left for another brunch with your parents.

When you returned to the house, he wasn’t in the living room. That was where he’d been most days, just reading the newspaper and pointedly being okay with your silent treatment. You briefly thought that if he wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be so hard to pack a few bags. Maybe if he was going to be gone for a few hours, you could get a few great professionals to pack up your closet before he even knew what you were planning.

But then he called your name from the kitchen. You went if only because you were curious. He handed you a diamond necklace, said he was sorry for ruining your skirt. You were utterly speechless. Your skirt? He was apologizing about your skirt?!

You took the necklace but didn’t say a word to him. That night, he’d come home later than you would have wanted, but at least it wasn’t 3 am. He didn’t try to speak first, didn’t look for your permission. He just climbed into bed and pulled you into his chest.

The following time was more than just wounded pride. Okay, it was all wounded pride, but it was on a severe, personal level. Your parents were still trying and you had to tell Ransom. Why? Because one of his female friends that he used to fuck told him that you were out with Maximus Brandt, a “mutual friend” of just about everyone, even though, in reality, no one could stand him. You included. And well, he and Ransom... you didn’t have the time to explain their level of hate for one another.

Ransom was furious at first, then you explained the situation. He didn’t stop being furious, oh no. He instead just changed his reason for being furious. But he claimed he didn’t care. He claimed that he knew he had nothing to worry about and you told him that he was right, you wanted to be with him. You thought that was the end of the issue.

Nope, the following day, while you were at work, Ransom texted you four times.

How many god damn vibrators can a person have?

You hadn’t read it when he first sent it, you didn’t have your phone on you. You were just there for a photoshoot, hopefully, a smooth one. Work hadn’t been great as of late, not so much because of Ransom... it was just that you knew he was insecure. He was never going to admit it, but he was terrified of losing you to someone else. Lately, he’d seen you with other people, people who—per his insane, deranged mind—stared at you affectionately and touched you too comfortably. You weren’t complaining, not exactly. See, because, in his attempt to hide his emotions, he fucked you. A lot. Hard. Always with a hand around your throat, edging you until you finally said that you were his.

You liked those moments. Hell, you even liked afterward when he would either silently hold you on top of him, head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat or when he would set you on his side and play with your hair as he answered the questions you asked about his day. Commonly, it was family drama and he would get so angry and worked up a second time that he would fuck you again. Maybe even again after that. But you didn’t actually like the idea of making him feel like you weren’t completely committed to him.

So, you wanted to get in and get out. Maybe make dinner with Ransom, you planned to wear a tiny dress and tease him the whole time. You occupied your mind wondering where he would break. Inside the fancy restaurant? It wouldn’t be the first time. He loved fingering you at dinner with his family because of course, he was just that kind of asshole. Though...you were the one who hardly ever wore underwear... or maybe outside? He’d fucked you against many buildings, in several alleyways throughout your relationship.

His second text read: now I’ve found your plugs, that’s great.

And the third: tell me where all of these things are. I’m getting rid of them.

You didn’t even glance at your phone until your Uber was taking you home. It was like watching a murder, and by the time the fourth text came in, you were livid.

Fine, don’t tell me. I guess I’ll just have to find them.

You called him 27 times. He didn’t pick up once. You stormed into the house, straight up to your room. There was clothing everywhere, bras, panties, and corsets because he went through the dressers first. And okay, there were a few in there. The travel toys you’d gathered over the years, the vibrating bar necklace your best friend got you last year. They laid on the bed with the easier to find toys, the bigger toys, but also with that discrete lipstick vibrator that you’d hidden away in your makeup box.

He really had gone through most of your shit. "Ransom!"

"Closet," he growled.

You stormed in, shrieking incoherently when you saw your suitcases thrown everywhere. They were all opened, laying on either the floor or one another. Expensive bags were being treated like they were nothing, expensive bags that you had worked to afford.

"I’ve found 19," he informed, not bothering to turn back to you. He was moving to your jewelry box now and would be finding more. "Why don’t you just be helpful and tell me where they all are?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He didn’t respond.

"This is my closet, Ransom! This is my stuff, you have no right to be in my stuff!"

He finally faced you, eyes narrowed. "This is my house!"

You slapped him. So hard your hand was stinging sharply long after. And ran away like a child throwing a temper tantrum. It took him a moment, but he was soon chasing after you. You practically dove into the guest room before he could reach you. He wouldn’t hit you, never, but he would force you to apologize to him and you weren’t ready to do that yet.

It was definitely not your finest moment, but you just needed to cool down, think about things, plot how you wanted to proceed. You realized, alone in that room with too much time on your hands that this called for true revenge.

He couldn’t just go through your things. This wasn’t his house anymore. It had been, but then he asked you to move in. This was your shared house, just as much yours as it was his. He was not allowed to just go through your possessions. He had no respect for you or your belongings, and this wasn’t going to go unpunished.

You used two days to lure him into a calm, trusting place. He probably thought this was the worst of it: the silent treatment. You would only leave the room if he was gone and made sure to leave obvious signs about it. You wanted him to know that he wasn't preventing you from living in your house. You did, however, refuse to step foot in your shared bedroom.

On the third morning, you found an outfit in the laundry room and went shopping. The terrified look on his face when he saw how many bags you were holding was exactly what you wanted to see. He knew now that you were serious about this. But no apologies were made. Actually, he said you were acting like a brat, then left to hang out with his friends.

Brat? Not yet.

You moved freely for a couple of hours. He’d cleaned the bedroom, made sure your closet was spotless like it had been before he destroyed it—but it was simply too late. You happily stayed in the living room until you heard his car pulling into the driveway, then you dashed to the room to begin. He may have taken all your toys, but he couldn’t stop you from buying more.

You stripped naked and hopped on the bed. Little prep was needed, you’d been wet since you made the almost $500 purchase at the sex shop earlier, thinking about how angry you were going to make Ransom.

You started with a small vibrating plug and let yourself get used to that first. You could hear him moving about the house, slowly, cautiously, trying to see if your revenge was going to be easily spotted. Next, a simple, but larger vibrator that took you a moment to adjust around. You made the mental note to let him know the size—he would be livid. And finally, a vibrator for your clit.

When he knocked on the door, you were well on your way to your first orgasm. You remained as silent as you possibly could for a moment, eager for him to hear the vibrating. Then you tossed your head back and let out a moan. "Oh, fuck!"

"What...what do you think you are doing?" he demanded.

"Well," you sighed, "right now, I have a vibrator on my clit. 10 speed settings...I’m only on the third and I’m already so close."

"Y/N," he warned, "I swear—"

"And one in my pussy," you informed. “It’s so big... I wasn’t sure it was going to fit at first."

"Well, considering my cock fits, I think most things would. You know a fucking toy doesn’t compare to me."

"And a plug." You weren’t going to argue with him. "This one vibrates too. It feels so fucking good."

"Enough, open the damn door."

You turned off the vibrator inside you and pulled it out. "Can you hear how wet I am?" Slowly, you pressed it back in. You watched the toy sink into your pussy and immediately realized something. Maybe Ransom would like to watch as well... You set aside the vibrator that was pressed to your clit and grabbed your phone.

You began fucking yourself with the toy, biting your lip to keep your noises down. You knew Ransom wanted to leave but the loud, wet sounds from your pussy kept him at the door. Even when you couldn’t hear him, you just knew. He wouldn’t leave until he heard you finish.

You turned on the vibration once more and left it, picking up the other once more. You gasped when you settled it back to your clit. You were close, you knew it would just take a moment. You kept the camera aimed where you were working, no longer trying to stifle your moans and whimpers. You knew he was going to hate the sounds you were making because you weren’t saying his name with them.

"Baby?" you called out.

"You are in so much trouble," he asserted. "If you stop now, I might let you finish."

"If I don’t?"

"I swear I won’t make you come for a month."

"Clearly, I don’t need you." Okay, you were bluffing. An entire month not finishing on his cock? That did concern you, but you knew he was also bluffing.

"Open this door. Now."

"Just a second," you breathed. Your finish followed your words almost immediately. "Fuck! Oh, god, Ransom... I think these toys might be as good as you."

The door whipped open, a deafening crack filling the room. Turning your head, you found Ransom standing there, eyes wide and jaw set. He had never looked this angry.

Your mouth dropped when you saw the damage to the doorframe, you would have to call someone out there to fix it. Soon. Because you weren’t sleeping with him. Not unless he apologized and made it up to you. In diamonds and maybe a new car. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You just kicked in the door, like, you're fucking ridiculous."

He stormed over to you, yanking the toy from your hand and tossing it on the bed. He pulled the second one from your clenching center, free hand gripping your thigh hard when he noticed how difficult it was to pull free from your tight pussy—god, he was going to miss that because no way in hell was he going to fuck you after this behavior. Finally, he pulled your plug out and you whimpered.

He glared at you.

Smirking, you held your phone out. "Watch the video I made for you, baby."

He tore it from your hand and did just that. He was already hard, you could see the bulge in his pants.

Sitting up, you reached out for him.

He slapped at your hand. "Don’t touch me."

"Fine." You laid back down, dipping your fingers into your folds.

He quickly noticed what you were doing, taking your wrist in his hand and holding it. "Stop."

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

He watched the entire thing and you knew his control was slipping, his fingers were digging into your skin—you couldn’t wait to see the bruises.

He threw your phone on the bed and turned back to you. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

"You’ve never fucked my ass, you know that?"

His eyebrows pulled together. "You never asked."

"Wanna do it now?" You pulled your wrist away from him and rolled over, pushing your hips back to offer your ass up to him. "You can..."

"If?"

"If you apologize."

You were startled by his hand whipping across your ass. You rolled back over to face him, eyes wide. "What the fuck?!"

He grabbed your left calf and caught your right foot when you tried to kick him.

"Did you just spank me?!"

"You were acting like a brat." He yanked you down close to the edge of the bed and before you could say a word, his lips were against yours.

You had started to push him away by the shoulders but when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, you started pulling him back in. Your fingers tugged at his shirt, tangled in his hair and pulled, touched his jaw and cheekbones.

You guys didn’t make out often, the kisses were brief because Ransom was impatient and sometimes just needed to fuck you.

He began to lay his body onto yours. You instantly wrapped your legs around him, grinding your bare pussy against his pants. He grabbed a handful of hair and tore your head back. His lips and teeth were all over your neck, moving down to your breasts.

"Ransom." Your hands found the button of his pants and you tore them open. "Fuck me."

He pulled away completely, leaving you on the bed as he re-buttoned his pants. "No."

You scoffed. "No?"

"No," he repeated. He hurriedly grabbed the toys on the bed before you could and left.

"So, you’ll take care of yourself?" you called out. "I could just use my mouth."

You heard his steps stutter, then he continued stomping away. Well, you hadn’t anticipated this turn of events, but you weren’t overly concerned. If you needed, you had fingers. If you were really desperate, you had a shower with a detachable showerhead.

For almost three weeks, Ransom would not let anyone enter the house to fix the door.

Meaning for those three weeks, he would also sneak into bed with you. His mouth and fingers touched your pussy until you woke up. Then he would stop and just lay down next to you, refusing to let you sleep any place other than locked in his arms and against his chest.

You were furious but all of that was going to have to be placed on hold. Oddly, as much as you two fought, it never really coincided with your period. Though, you had a theory about why that was.

Ransom, control freak, had to know what was going on with your body at all times. Initially, you didn’t know what to make of it. It was always a toss-up with these rich, white men—were they going to be insanely immature about something as small as a period? Much to your surprise, not Ransom.

When you weren’t living together, he would always text you to make sure you were doing okay. If you weren’t, he would bring you food and something very expensive. When you were living together, it was impossible for him not to notice the more worrisome symptoms—the cramps, the headaches. The first two days were really the worst, you generally avoided leaving the house at the start.

That morning, Ransom found you in bed, curled up in a ball with your hand pressed to your forehead. As if that was going to ease the insane amount of pressure you felt behind your eyes. Thing was, you were supposed to be at work. That was one of the better things about only working for friends and trusted associates—they never thought you were calling in simply because you were hungover or something else even more unprofessional that was often associated with models.

"Thought you had a shoot today," he said.

"I had to cancel."

"Why?"

You didn’t answer. Shouldn’t he know by now? You really wouldn’t be surprised if he had a calendar marked with the expected dates.

"Oh."

But then, you guys had been fighting for how long? He probably missed it.

Those first few times he witnessed the cramps, he was actually immensely nurturing. It wasn’t like he had any responsibilities, so he sat with you in bed and let you lay on him, your back to his chest. He would place his hands on you and they were always so warm, you would just melt into him.

That soon changed. You had been in bed together one morning, it seemed just like any other time. But noon came and he told you to get out of bed and into the shower. You thought you were dying, you sure as hell couldn’t shower. But he would not accept that answer.

You weren’t sure why until he had the front of your body pressed to the tile wall, his hands on your hips as he fucked you so. So. So. Fucking. Slow. And after, he grabbed a few towels, set them over the bed, and laid you down to continue. You were confused and let him know, and all he said was that he’d read it would help with the cramps and the headache.

It had helped, but you figured it was a distraction more than anything. After that, it was just routine. Not that you didn’t have sex with him most nights, but he insisted on, every night of your period, fucking you until you were nearly unconscious. Those were the only nights he was gentle.

He sat down next to you, fingers brushing over your shoulder.

You recoiled from his touch. "Go away."

"Come on, baby, you know I can’t just leave you in pain like this." You heard him start to undress but made no moves to do the same. When he laid down next to you, he tried to urge you onto your back with a hand pulling on your shoulder.

"Ransom, stop. I’m not kidding."

He sighed, leaning over to kiss your face. "Let me help."

"You can help by leaving."

His warmth and the blanket you were curled up in lessened your resolve by a lot. He found it much easier to pull your shoulder away from your face, which he took full advantage of and began kissing over all of the skin he could reach.

"Ransom," you whined, trying to roll further away from him. He held you back by a hand on your hip.

"Shut up." Over the blanket, his hand slid up your stomach to your breast.

You hated that you moaned. Your brain knew you would regret this, but your body wanted nothing more than to give in to him. It was Ransom, after all, he was a complete tool sometimes but he always knew how to touch you.

He pulled the blanket down your body until he got to the hem of your sleep bottoms.

"Ransom, stop," you scolded. "I don’t want to ruin the sheets."

"Doesn’t matter, you won’t be sleeping in here anymore."

You turned your head back, catching his hand in yours. "Excuse me?"

"I said you’re done sleeping in here," he repeated. "You’ll be sleeping in our bed again."

"No, actually, I won’t."

He pulled his hand away from you and yanked the blanket away.

"Ransom!" You attempted to start sitting up but he pulled you back down by the shoulder.

Next, he worked on getting your underwear out of his way. There was nothing hot about this—you were wearing a pad because you didn’t want to have to get out of bed for a while and you were probably bleeding heavily. How could he be turned on at all?

He crawled down the mattress until he had your lower half completely free of clothing. He was only wearing his boxers now, the proof of his arousal the only thing you could focus on. You hated this, really, you did...but you knew how good he was about to make you feel...this wasn’t the worst way to deal with your period.

He didn’t want to give you the chance to argue so he quickly returned back to his spot at your back. His large hand pulled at the inside of your thigh, guiding your leg over his hips.

You tried not to want this, not to want him, but you were weak. He wasn’t all bad, you supposed. There was that time he took you to Paris for your birthday, the first one you shared with him. There was that time your parents were sick and had guilted you into taking care of them and the house while they couldn’t, and Ransom had shown up to help—forget all the snark and attitude he received from both you and your parents. And even though you were a completely functioning adult who could do anything for yourself and your career, Ransom was practically your bodyguard. Modeling was hard sometimes. People touched you, they looked at you. And you could always tell when it wasn’t appropriate. Ransom never blamed you, never told you that you’d done something to encourage it. He was unlike past partners in that way.

As he shoved his boxers down, you turned your head back to him.

"What? You okay, you need something?"

You leaned toward him further, paying no mind to the discomfort in your side at the odd angle you were turning yourself. "Just you."

He arched an eyebrow.

You set your hand to his face, fingers gliding along his cheek, under his eye, over his forehead. Why was he so beautiful? Who decided that this man should be given a face like this?

"You sure you’re okay?" he wondered, arm sliding over your waist to pull you in closer.

"My parents think that being with you is a bad decision. That's why they're doing all this shit."

"Yeah, they’re probably right about that."

You shook your head. "You take care of me."

He shrugged a shoulder. "We take care of each other. Now, are you done being sappy? I’d like to fuck you."

You huffed. "Well, that was a rare sweet moment. Thanks for ruining it."

He smiled. "Any time, baby."

Your breath caught when you felt him at your entrance. There was something different about fucking on your period. Maybe it was that you didn’t need the hour of foreplay to be able to take Ransom’s cock semi-comfortably. Or maybe it was just the misplaced intimacy of the whole ordeal. You didn’t hate it, hell, part of you was completely addicted to it.

But why would you ever tell him that? His eyes sparkled like they knew it anyway. Still, he would never have the satisfaction of hearing it.

He took your jaw in his hand, eyes locked on yours as he buried himself inside you.

"Ransom," you gasped. You grabbed his forearm, turning forward to lay your face on the pillow.

He thrust into you at a slow and steady pace. Certainly, he’d fucked you better before, but while you were so sensitive, it was just enough. His hand wound in your hair and he shoved your face down.

You moaned into the pillow as your orgasm built. You ran out of breath quickly and since he had you pinned down, you couldn’t breathe. You began thrashing against him, arms grabbing whatever part of him you could, you locked your leg around him tight so you wouldn’t be able to pull away, and you started to roll your hips back.

“Shit, baby,” he grunted. “Like it when I hold you down?”

You blurted out a response even though you knew he wouldn’t understand. You blamed the thoughtless action on the lack of air you were getting. It was almost thrilling to see where you’d get first, would you finish or would you faint? Would he even care? Would he just keep fucking you? The idea of being used like that did not turn you off as much as you wanted it to.

He did not let you up until you had come and he had gently fucked you through it. You lifted your face from the pillow, greedily taking in oxygen. He moved harder and faster for himself, but just slightly. His hand found your neck and he pulled you closer to him.

You had yet to completely catch your breath but you happily sunk unto his hold, placing one of your hands over his and digging your nails into his skin. He was wrapped around you, warm, maybe somewhat suffocating. This kind of sex was always like this, just toeing that fine line of overwhelming.

His hips stuttered as he turned his face into the bend of your neck. Several more times and he was spilling inside you, body still and cock as deep as you could take it.

He remained inside you as he slowly released your neck and began kissing over the skin there, anything to keep you as full of him as possible. He brushed his hands through your hair and whispered in your ear until he came down from his high.

You both just laid there for a moment, tired and thinking. It was clear he wanted to speak and you were now willing to listen, which were rare states for both of you, even rarer when it occurred simultaneously.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time with your parents lately."

He wanted to talk about your parents? Right now? After that? "They just got back from Scotland."

"Mhm." He leaned over to kiss you for a moment, just a soft press of his lips that was so unlike how he usually kissed you. "But usually, you invite me."

"You never want to go."

"But you always ask."

"I mean, we’ve been fighting, Ransom."

"Or maybe you’re considering other options."

You scoffed. "I’m not doing that, Ransom."

"Well, it’d be stupid if you were. You know no one can fuck you like I can."

You rolled your eyes. "Can you fuck me again? Can you shut up and just fuck me?"

"I understand where they’re coming from, why they don’t like me."

"Ransom," you groaned, shoving his hand away and turning back to the wall.

His fingers began tracing random patterns over your skin. "They think I can’t take care of their little girl, they’re just concerned."

"You know what? Your parents don’t like me either."

"My parents aren’t throwing other women at me—"

"That I know of—"

"No, don’t even try to turn this around. You were on a date with Max—"

"I was not! It was not a date." Only you two. Honestly, only you two would decide to start an argument while he was inside you.

"Megan told me what she saw—"

"And was that after or before you fucked her?"

"Don’t," he warned. "I have been committed to you since the day I met you."

You snorted. "The day you met me? Please. I’m done with this." You began sliding your leg back over but he grabbed your thigh and pulled it back.

He reached forward then, locking his arm around you and sliding his hand under your hip. Finally, he dragged himself back, so slowly.

You shut your eyes and bit your lip to keep quiet.

His hips snapped forward and your surprised yelp followed. "I’ve never dated anyone else—"

"How do I know that?" you demanded. "You’re a liar."

"I’ve never fucked anyone else, I’ve never even looked at anyone else. Since the day I met you, I knew that you were mine."

You weren’t sure if you believed that. Ransom was always complicated, you knew that from day one. You also knew that he knew a lot of women, that he liked to party, that he’d fucked most of his “friends” and that the usual routine was to do so during or after one of those parties.

He had started dragging you along with his friends about four months into your relationship. So, those first four months were always unclear to you. But prior, he would come to your apartment sometimes, smelling of alcohol and perfume and fuck you. You never asked questions and he never offered up the details. He was always gone in the mornings, so you figured that meant no strings.

The relationship change happened somewhat by force. Your parent’s lived about an hour away from your apartment, so it wasn’t often that you visited, but it wasn’t unheard of. One of your oldest friends had had a baby and she decided to return home to stay with her parents, your parent’s neighbors. You thought it would be fun to do the same, so you headed home and easily fell back into that whole scene.

Ransom texted you every day, almost every hour. You weren’t there for more than three weeks when he showed up at three in the morning on a Tuesday, wasted, pounding on the back door. To this day, it is unknown to you how his drunk ass even managed to get into the backyard.

Regardless, he only came because your friend had been posting non-stop pictures on Facebook and tagged you in one that she got of you talking to one of her brothers. Something he'd confessed after he also told you he couldn't stop thinking about you and that he missed you. Your first mistake was believing those lines.

He didn't leave until you agreed to return with him. The drive home was around the time he told you he found your apartment to be a "waste of time". It took him a total of three months to finally convince you to move in with him.

It didn't really matter at the end of the day. You didn't have evidence, but he did. This round was going to go to Ransom if you really kept pushing it. But it wasn't like he was anything near innocent.

"If you ever tell me that this is your house again, I'm leaving. Understood?"

"Yes. And you're not allowed to go on dates with other people. Understood?"

"Understood," you sighed. “Even though it was not a date. I would never date Max.”

He finally smiled. "Great, done fighting?"

You scoffed. "You went through my stuff."

"You hit me."

"I should have hit you more than once," you countered. But you didn't mean that, and you definitely shouldn't have hit him. "That won't happen again."

"I deserved it."

"No, let's just...talk about things, okay? Instead of reacting first and talking later."

He hummed. "Doesn't sound at all like us. But why not give it a shot?"

You’d wanted the house. The shit inside? Gaudy, outdated, mostly picked by Linda. You weren’t in the business of being cruel, however, you told her she could take legal possession of several things. If she wanted to buy it at the yard sale you decided to have.

It was the easiest way to get rid of Harlan’s stuff and to do so respectfully. Fans of his books who were nowhere near as rich as the 1% could still feel a connection to the late author without losing an arm and a leg. Throwing it all away like Ransom had suggested just made you feel like trash. He didn’t understand but he went along with it.

Probably because of how mad it made his mother. You’d decided to let Walt and Joni do a run through and take what they wanted, but since Linda had tried to physically assault Ransom when he told her he’d somehow gotten Marta to sign the house over to him, you were still waiting on her to extend a heartfelt and extensive apology to him. He said it was never going to come, but you figured she just needed a little convincing.

She’d shown up to the yard sale, screaming as Richard tried to reign her in. How could you seriously be selling a nightstand for $5? It was criminal. You were an idiot who had no idea how much this stuff cost. You were a scheming whore who had been planning this from day one. It was a pretty entertaining show, even Jacob agreed. He’d told you that night that her meltdown already had a million views.

Ransom was absent most of the yard sale. He did not want to talk to people and he did not want them talking to him. He showed up when he heard his mother shrieking and called the cops because he was a little bored. When they showed up, she started throwing things. It was nothing short of what you had expected, but when she started throwing things at Ransom, that was different.

She needed more convincing, you decided.

After the yard sale that only lasted three days—impressive considering Harlan was basically a hoarder—you were finally moving in. You pleaded with Ransom to hire no one. You wanted to do this with him. You wanted to pack and unpack just the two of you.

He acted like you were trying to murder him when you’d first asked, but he came around. You guys started with the closets, knowing that would be the most complex process. It took an entire day to move it all in and organize since the house was empty, you guys ended up sleeping on about twenty blankets on the bedroom floor.

Nothing was staying the same, mostly Ransom wanted to upset his family, but you just wanted to create a new home. You didn’t want to feel like you were living in Harlan’s house, you wanted to make it your own.

You weren’t taking Harlan’s room, that would be weird, and it was also an abnormally small room. The biggest room in the house was Joni’s former room, it had been empty since Neal died. Harlan refused to let anyone move anything that belonged to his son, but that was no longer an issue. It was also the only room with two closets, it was perfect.

Meg took Harlan’s room and Joni would keep hers. Walt, Donna, and Jacob were moved into one room, a decision made by Ransom. You didn’t necessarily agree but you weren’t going to start a fight with him for that subsection of the family. Especially since they were hardly ever going to be over, maybe just for the major holidays. Linda and Richard’s room under the stairs would remain but Linda was banned from the house until you felt satisfied with her attempts to gain Ransom’s forgiveness.

Not that he was actually upset with her, but he should have been! Something you did not hesitate to tell him any time you guys spoke about the issue. Regardless, any time Linda stepped foot on the property, the cops would be called.

Anything that belonged personally to Harlan, like his study, his office, the library, Ransom took special joy in taking everything out of it. He got rid of the books, the furniture, those stupid knives. He realized the books and the knives were very valuable and placed those online for bid. He didn’t want the money but he didn’t think it smart to sell them the same way you were selling everything else.

He didn’t tell you what he did with the money, but you saw a few emails a few days after the last knife was gone. He’d donated it. Ransom fucking Drysdale donated money! A few no-kill animal shelters, a couple of cancer foundations, a few domestic violence organizations, and then Planned Parenthood. Was it weird that you went to find him directly after just because you wanted to have sex with him? Like, you still knew he was a fucking asshole, but this was very nice.

The house was empty finally, save for the closets, of course. It was time to move all the boxes in and after, you guys could go shopping. That was the part you were both truly looking forward to. Ransom was going crazy without a bed, but he’d taken to fucking you against the wall, so not a major loss.

It only took about three hours, but Ransom acted like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Well, it probably was. You were getting ready to go out furniture shopping. You were thinking of ways to talk Ransom into painting with you, not just getting someone to take care of it. Harlan seemed to be a fan of ugly wallpaper and flat colors. Also, ugly lamps, shades, and curtains. That was the first round of replacements, the furniture would be arriving within the next few days. You had to sign for so much and it was getting difficult keeping the times and scheduling, the last thing you wanted was to double-schedule anything and waste someone’s time.

You were rummaging through the unopened boxes when Ransom came downstairs. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah, have you seen my planner?”

“I think I packed it.”

“Do you happen to remember which box?”

“Keep getting ready, I’ll look for it.”

You smiled, turning up to find him texting. “Your mother?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Just some more threatening. Maybe we should lift the ban—”

“No way.”

“Y/N—”

“Ransom, she tried to hit you. And then she was throwing things at you. Look, as shitty as my parents are, something can be said for the fact that they never hit me. That’s not actually normal.”

“She didn’t hit me when I was younger, don’t try to make this some battered child thing.”

“Ransom, this is our house and I don’t feel comfortable having your mother here until she understands that any sort of abuse directed at you is not okay…okay?”

He sighed. “Why is this the hill you want to die on?”

“I’m sorry that I dislike bad parents.”

“We all have bad parents,” he pointed out. “Everyone rich has bad parents because bad parents raise bad parents. It’s been the cycle since the creation of people who feel comfortable stepping on the poor to further their wealth.”

“Okay, don’t try to distract me by saying things that only an aware person would say.”

“I am aware. I just choose to ignore it. Wish you would do the same.”

“Really? Then why did you donate all that money, Ransom?”

“To get you to fuck me.”

You snorted. “Please, you know I’ve fucked you for a lot less money than that. And you’re wrong, okay? Not everyone rich has bad parents. My friend who had the baby a few years ago? Great parents.”

“I mean, I saw their house, they’re not that rich.”

“They don’t show off!” you corrected. “And don’t imply that you and I will ever be like our parents. My mother was controlling, and my father was dismissive, and Linda is insane and god, I can’t even explain how fucked up your father is. We are nothing like that and we never would be if…”

He lifted his eyebrows. “If we had kids?”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to say.”

He scoffed. “Yes, it was.”

“No, but…sure, that’s true. If we ever had kids…we would not be like that. I wouldn’t force our daughters to model or sing—did you know she tried to make me sing? Like, be an actual fucking singer. And I’m never going to try to make them be in a relationship with someone that they don’t like. You will not hit them, and you won’t…fuck our babysitter or our housekeeper or…whatever else, if we ever hire any of them.”

“Yeah?”

“But since you’re giving me that fucking smug look, you should know, there isn’t enough money in the world that could ever get me to carry your fucking children. Fucking sociopaths is what they’ll be, I’m sure. Terrible, little monsters just like you.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck you, Ransom, I’m going to do my makeup.”

He smiled. “I’ll look for your planner.”

You turned for the staircase with a heavy sigh. This was annoying because he still hadn’t said he loved you. It had been years and you had said it, and he did not, but he felt totally okay making fun of you for hinting that maybe one day, you guys would be a normal couple. Whatever, you would not let it bring you down, you would just retaliate by making him spend a lot of money.

You were just about finished when you heard him storming up the stairs. His mother? Maybe Joni. “Ransom?”

He walked into the room, holding a vibrator that he’d torn out of the box. “Are you serious?”

“Okay, that was unopened! You would know that if you weren’t some entitled child that just goes around ripping open boxes, Ransom!”

“I can’t actually believe you have this!”

“I haven’t used it!”

“Then why do you have it?!”

“Because…” you began.

He lifted his eyebrows.

“You might make me mad and I might need to repeat what I did the last time.”

“I cannot believe you would actually bring this into our house.”

“My god, Ransom, it’s not cocaine. Can we dial down the dramatics today?”

“You know what? You should keep this because I’m not fucking you any time soon.” He tossed it onto the counter and stomped out of the bedroom.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled. “You’re so fucking unbelievable!”

#ransom drysdale x reader #i hate that i'm still so in love with this loser #but heyyy andy barber taking me away (tbh i'll be back. i can multitask)#my writing

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