#she’d make me pasta and peas

[mypartoftown]

I feel some type of way when I hold something that used to belong to my grandmother. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing to me now 💛

#she would sing to me about my yellow hair #and she’d do these little finger dancing to go along #she’d make me pasta and peas #and she’d just laugh when I told her I wouldn’t eat the peas #thirty home games

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

More Than Enough | Owen & Charlie

Requested:  hi! can you do an imagine where the reader is like 16/17 and lives with owen and charlie and she finds out her boyfriend back home cheated on her? basically like owen and charlie are acting like big brothers.

A/N: This was too cute to pass up. I did alter it a tiny bit since I don’t think any parent would just send their seventeen year old to Vancouver. Hope you like it though! 

Pairing: Platonic!(Owen x Charlie x Reader)

Warnings: Explicit language, cheating, angst

Song(s) used:  none

Words: 2,523

Being a Gillespie has had many, many perks. Anyone in your family was always up for an adventure in the middle of the night or ready to jam out at any given moment. Family parties were never dull and the bonds unbreakable. 

Until you and your family suddenly moved to Vancouver when your mother found herself a new love and packed her bags within the first few weeks. Of course, only being thirteen at the time, you had no other choice but to go, though it broke your heart saying goodbye to the friends you made in New Brunswick and the close family you left behind. 

About four years later, you received a message from your very favorite cousin, Charlie. He’d been your best friend since you were born. Even though he was four years older than you, the two of you were two peas in a pod. He felt like a big brother to you as much as your actual brother did, if not more. And since you left Dieppe, Charlie had been texting you non-stop to make sure you were okay and adapting to your new surroundings. 

But the message you received in 2019 made your heart leap. 

Guess who’s coming to Vancouver for work? 

(It’s me!) 

You had chuckled at the second message, shaking your head at the fact that your favorite cousin hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you saw him. 

Charlie had told you he’d auditioned for this new Netflix show directed by the legend himself, Kenny Ortega. You were the biggest fan of the man, so you made sure you did all the superstitious things you could to make  sure he’d get the part. You had burnt dozens of candles, prayed every night and kept the lucky blue rabbit’s foot with you every day. Charlie had given you the blue rabbit’s foot the day you left for Vancouver, showing a matching one that he kept on a chain on his jeans. 

“This is gonna bring you luck, and if you ever miss me, just hold it tight and it’ll feel like I’m there with you,” he’d told you. 

When Charlie came to Vancouver, the two of you thought it’d be a good idea for you to move in with him and Owen, a member of the cast he’d become close friends with during the bootcamp they did that summer. 

Your mom wasn’t too sure about it at first, but eventually caved and let you go, thinking it might be good practice for when you’d go off to college. 

With all of that said and done, you were now a full-fledged member of the Gillespie-Joyner household. The first few weeks were the most fun. You’d stay up all night with the boys, dancing around the living room to whatever song came on or cuddled up on the couch watching movies. Every now and again, even your boyfriend came up to the apartment to hang out with the three of you. Though, the boys being the boys, became overprotective when that occurred.

The first night Thomas came over to hang out with you, Owen and Charlie immediately went into full-protective mode. They started interrogating the seventeen-year-old boy with questions you say an overprotective dad with a shotgun or baseball bat ask in those cliché rom-coms. 

“Can you guys not?!” you had asked, chuckling because you thought they were joking about it all. “Let’s just watch this stupid movie while we wait for our pizza.” 

During said movie, the two full-grown men kept glaring at the teenagers on the other end of the couch as you were cuddled up together, his arm slung over your shoulder. Charlie had that trademark scowl on his face with his arms crossed while Owen just furrowed his eyebrows, keeping an eye on the two of you. 

That occurred pretty much every night since that first day they met. And you could feel Thomas growing more and more fidgety next to you as the nights progressed.

One night when Thomas came over, the four of you decided to cook dinner together since you were pretty bored of constantly ordering food and eating unhealthy. You wanted to get some vegetables inside these boys.  

“Watch out, Gillespie, you’re gonna burn yourself,” Owen said to you when you were simply stirring the bolognese sauce you had made from scratch. That was something  your grandmother taught you when you were younger. You and Charlie used to cook with her all the time when having sleepovers at her place during nights your parents were out. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be fine, Joyner,” you muttered back, chuckling slightly. Just as the words rolled off your lips, the sauce sputtered and a droplet of hot sauce fell on your hand. You hissed at the burning sensation as you wiped the red off your hand. 

“See! I told you!” Owen exclaimed and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the tap. 

“Owen, I’m fine! It was just a tiny drop. I’m not gonna die!” you protested but let him hold your hand underneath the cold running water. The coldness of the water made the burning and stinging feeling vanish and actually felt good. 

“You ought to be careful, Gillespie,” Owen muttered, his eyes focused on the water gliding down the back of your hand and down every fingertip in small streams while you watched him. You’d lived here for almost a month, and  you’d seen Owen from up close but never this close. 

There was something about his smooth jawline, bright green eyes and swoopy blonde hair that you hadn’t noticed before. All of a sudden, the boy you’d seen as a brother for a month now, turned attractive. Very attractive. 

No, y/n, focus. Your boyfriend is literally behind you. Calm down. You thought to yourself as you shook out of the trance you found yourself in.

But then Owen glanced up at you and the whole pep-talk went to waste. Especially as the corners of his mouth tugged up into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. 

You coughed before sputtering out, “T-thank you, Owen.”  He simply nodded acknowledgingly before turning the tap off and letting you go back to your food with your mind woozy and your heart beating faster. What in the holy hell was that? 

Thomas of course noticed the interaction between you and Owen as he was sitting on a stool at the breakfast island, scrolling through his phone with Charlie next to him. The latter had been weighing off the pasta to cook later and didn’t notice anything of what just happened. 

“I’m gonna head home,” Thomas said that night straight after dinner. Normally, he’d stay for one more movie before heading home, but after seeing what he saw earlier, he didn’t feel like staying much longer or ever coming back. 

You picked up the tone in his voice, and your stomach sank. Something had upset him and you could only guess what it was. Of course he saw. Everyone could probably see. Now it was up to you to show Thomas nothing was actually going on between you and Owen. 

“Oh--okay… I’ll see you out,” you said and got up from the chair, halting when Thomas held up his hand and shook his head dismissively. 

“I’ll see myself out,” he muttered and made his way out the door without even a goodbye, let alone a kiss goodbye. Your heart sank to your stomach as you felt the storm hanging above your head. This was not going to end well. 

“What was that about?” Charlie asked, confused about the boy’s demeanor all of a sudden. You glanced over at Owen, who had his lips pressed together, offering you an apologetic countenance. 

You sighed, dropping down in your chair again and rubbing your face with your hands, not even caring about the make-up you’re smudging right now. You were going to lose the best thing that has ever happened to you since moving to Vancouver, besides seeing Charlie again. And all because you couldn’t keep your eyes off an attractive man that stood a few inches too close. There was a storm ahead, and you weren’t prepared for it. 

Three days. You didn’t hear Thomas for three days. After sending text after text after text, he still ghosted you. You knew he was going to break up with you soon, but what came next was beyond your expectations. 

Your friend Lili called you on the fourth day of radio silence from Thomas. Her voice sounded solemn, almost worried. 

“What’s up?” you asked, growing more and more anxious. 

A shaky breath sounded from the other side of the line before she spoke again. “Allison told me Thomas showed up at her doorstep last night…” she started. Her voice cracked and so did your heart in anticipation of what was going to follow. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, Thomas cheated on you…” 

Tears sprung into your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pillow from the sofa and hugged it tightly to your chest while Lili blabbed on about what she’d heard from Allison. All you could pick up was that Allison felt terrible about it but couldn’t say no to him since he seemed in distress. Laced between her words were your venomous thoughts about how all of this was just your fault. If the thing-which-wasn’t-even-a-thing between you and Owen didn’t happen, Thomas wouldn’t have gone to another girl’s house. 

“I am so sorry, y/n. I--Tell me if there’s anything I can do? I’ll--I’ll come over with some ice cream or chocolate if  you want and you can just cry?” Lili probably knew you weren’t listening anymore. She was the first friend you had made in Vancouver four years ago, along with Allison. But apparently being friends gives you a get-out-of-jail card to fuck your friend’s boyfriend. 

“No, that’s okay, Lils. I just wanna be alone right now…” you whispered, and after you’d said your goodbyes you hung up the phone, dropping the device on the sofa next to you. Your arms tightened around the pillow as tears soaked the fabric and the toxic thoughts haunted your mind on repeat. 

The thoughts were so loud, you didn’t even hear the door to the apartment opening and closing. You only noticed someone had walked in when two pairs of arms snaked around your body from each side. 

Charlie piped up first, “What happened, cous?” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your hair as his fingers tangled up in your messy hair. 

“He-hecheatedonme,” you blurted out in one breath. Both Owen and Charlie halted their movement, glancing up at each to see if both of them heard the same thing. You felt someone shift beside you, the warm feeling of their body pressed to yours turning cold. 

“Where does he live?” Owen growled. You looked up at him and sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater. “Where does he live, y/n?” he repeated sternly. 

“No, Owen, please,” you begged, more tears rolling down your face, “Please, don’t. Stay with me. Please.” Owen’s tense expression softened as he slid down next to you again, the warmth returning to your body as he wrapped himself around you once more. 

“Just stay,” you whispered as your arms wrapped around Owen’s bicep and your head rested on Charlie’s chest. “It’s my own fault.” Neither of the boys say anything, but they let you babble for a while, holding you and rubbing your back or planting kisses on your head. 

Once you had calmed down a little, Charlie began his pep-talk, “None of this is your fault, little one,” he said. “I know something happened between you the last time you were here, but that doesn’t mean you drove him into another girl’s arms. He could’ve come over to talk it out, but instead, he chose to ring another’s doorbell. This is not your fault.” The last words came out just above a whisper before his lips crushed onto your head again. His hand smoothed down your hair, lulling you into a state of calm. 

“Char’s right, y/n,” Owen chimed in softly as his fingers trailed up and down her leg. “His decision to do this instead of talk to you is on him. He doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.” Your lips curled up into a small smile while a sob raked through your body, shaking both boys along. 

“I love you guys,” you mumbled as you felt your eyes drooping. Crying always made you feel sleepy, especially with the boys’ soothing touches and words. “So much.” And with that, your light went out for the next few hours. 

Owen and Charlie eventually fell asleep too as they didn’t want to let you go, and that’s what you woke up to in the middle of the night too. The two boys asleep on either side of you, clutching you in their arms. Though Owen had sunk down with his head in your lap and him clutching your arm against his chest, Charlie had fallen asleep resting his head on yours. A content, warm feeling fell over you while that upsetting, past-breakdown sob shook through your body. 

“Boys,” you whispered, waking them up softly. Both twitched, but only Owen shook awake and shot upright. You giggled at his concerned, sleep-drunk expression. “Shall we head to bed?” you asked. The look of confusion that flashed across Owen’s face made you realize that it did sound a bit odd, so you quickly added, “It’s past midnight, I think we better sleep in our own beds than cramped up on the sofa.” 

Owen let out an “ah” and nodded his head before punching Charlie in the shoulder. Your cousin looked up with narrowed  eyes, ready to growl at whoever woke  him. 

“Let’s get to bed,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy nodded and got up, grabbing your hand in his and leading you towards your bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights, but blindly made his way over to the bed and rolled onto it, tugging you with him and cuddling you close to his body. You let out a shriek at the sudden movement until it turned into giggling before sighing contently at the welcome warmth and comfort of your cousin’s arms. There’ve been many nights where you fell asleep cuddling one another on your grandmother’s sofa after having watched your favorite tv-show.   

“Joyner, get your ass in here!” Charlie shouted, his voice croaky and thick with sleep. You heard shuffling before the bed dipped, the warmth of Owen’s body radiating into your skin. 

This hadn’t occurred yet since you moved in with them a month ago. Falling asleep on the couch, yes, all the time. But never falling asleep in the same bed. It was a welcome, soothing feeling though. No matter how you turned, every side of your body was always toasty. You were the happiest person alive even on darker days like this one. You’d always have these two boys in your life. And that was more than enough for you.

*

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JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost 

Charlie/Luke Taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #alex jatp #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #platonic!reader x charlie #platonic!reader #owen x reader #owen joyner fic #platonic!reader x owen #platonic!charlie x owen #platonic!charlie x owen x reader

[daydreamingintheimpalax]

Valentine’s day sucks

Dean X Reader

Prompt: “No ones ever given me flowers, ever.” “Is that my shirt?” 

Warnings: None? Fluff. 

A/N: Dean’s not dead, yay! Miracle makes an apperance, happy stuff to make you happy. Happens two months after the finale but THAT never happened, okay, it came close but NO. :)

------------------

Dean was exhausted. They’d been on the road for 5 hours now, Sam is fast asleep in the passenger side, the small gash on his cheek cleaned and somewhat taken care of, he’d have to check it again when they reached the bunker. The hunt had been a simple salt and burn, or at least that’s what they were expecting, it had gone a little off plan, the ghost being a little more rough than they had anticipated, still, after the last few months he had, he’d take this any day, he missed the simple days. 

A few bruises and cuts later and they were finally on the way home. Y/n, unfortunately had sat out this time, her ankle still healing from the last hunt she’d joined them on. Dean just wanted to go home, not only did he miss his bed, but he missed y/n. He’d deny it all day, but he missed her prescence, her scent inglufing him anytime she was near him, he missed her home cooked meals, snuggling next to her on the couch as they all watched movies, he missed his best friend and the comforting feeling she brought with her. Not to mention it was valentines day, and she was all alone at the bunker, Dean knew how crappy it felt to be alone on valentine’s day, he’d imagine it was worse for a girl. Y/n always got slightly sad on valentine’s day, the highlight of both their day’s was spending it together, with each other as they ate cheap candy and watched television. Seeing lovey couples made them both depressed. This valentines day, he was feeling especially down, and suddenly he was even more thankful he had made it out of that hunt.

He sighed as he pulled into the gas station, getting out to fill up his beleoved car. After a few seconds, Sam got out of the car, stretching before looking over at Dean, “I’m going to grab some snacks, i need energy.” He spoke, Dean replying with a simple nod, too tired to even speak.

When he was done, he too went inside to pay for gas, grabbing a few bags of jerky on the way to the cash. He stopped when he noticed the display of arranged roses. The sign implying they were only 5$ and for that special someone. He figured y/n was special enough to both him and sammy to deserve something. Least he could do to repay her for everything she did for them was get her some roses. He grabbed the set with a bunch of different coloured ones, liking the different options. 

He headed to the cash putting everything down before he looked over, seeing the questioning look his brother was giving him. 

“What?” he asks, and Sam shrugs, “What’s with the roses?” Sammy asks and Dean shrugs himself, “They’re for y/n, it’s valentines day, figured she deserves at least something from someone.” He pays and gathers up his stuff, before passing Sam and heading out.

“You totally like her, man.” Sam chuckles and Dean groans. “Why can’t i just do something nice for her without you going there. She does a lot for us, man, least we can do is repay her, even if it’s just flowers.” Sam raises a brow at him, “You repay her everyday by fixing her car, or cleaning the dishes when she cooks, or cleaning the bathrooms. I don’t think she expects gifts.” Sam chuckles and Dean rolls his eyes. 

“That’s not repaying her, that’s doing my part in the house, just because she lives with us and is our best friend doesn’t mean she’s the maid.” Dean sighs. 

Sammy shakes his head, “I didn’t- that-’s...that’s not what i meant.” He stutters and Dean chuckles, “I know Sammy, i get what you meant.” Sam sighs, “I just, you’re happy around her Dean, you smile more and you’re more relaxed around her, i think, i think if you just took a shot, you could be really happy with her.” Sam shrugs and Dean smiles softly. Sam had such a good thing with Eileen, she made his little brother really happy and he new Sammy wanted the same for him. Ever since things in the hunting world had been normal and slowed down, Sammy had been trying to convince him to ask you out, believing you were the key to his happy ever after.

“That’s a nice fantasy but she can do way better, hell, she deserves way better, there’s nothing i can offer her expect death, pain and misery. She’s way too good for me.” Dean shrugs and turns the radio up a bit. Sam eyes him and shakes his head, smiling. 

“Man, you can be a real intelligent guy sometimes, Dee, but sometimes, you can be real stupid too.” He laughs and Deam frowns. “The hell does that mean?” he asks but Sam just shakes his head, “Nothing.” He sinks back down into his chair, leaning against the window and his eyes close, he could really use another nap, so Dean moves on, ignoring his statement and enjoying the sounds of metallica coming from the radio. 

----------

The cheesy Valentine’s day movie on tv was boring you, but you still couldn’t stop watching. You had been watching the hallmark Valentine’s day special all day, the bunker seemed so big and quiet when you were all alone in it, you had miracle of course, but he slept most of the day, besides feeding him a few times, he’d spent most of the day cuddled against you, asleep.

You missed Sam and Dean, especially Dean. It wasn’t the same when the boys weren’t in the bunker. With nothing to do, or anyone to really talk to, it got pretty lonely. The boys were your best friends and since they left for the hunt two days ago, you just sat around worried until Dean had finally called you to tell you they were on the way. It gave you peace of mind, ever since two months ago, you got beyond worried when you couldn’t join them on hunts and they didn’t call for a while.

Chicken parmesean pasta sat in the oven, one of Dean’s favorites. You were keeping it warm for when they finally got home, knowing they’d be starving for a home cooked meal. Laundry was done and folded neatly on their beds, and now, you laid on the couch, snuggled in a blanket and a pair of short shorts and one of Dean’s red flannels. They were warm, cozy and smelt just like him, so you had stolen one. You missed him, and you wanted him home, both the boys, but Dean was your best friend, you two were like two peas in a pod and you would never admit it, but your lingering feelings for him made it so hard when he was gone and you tried your best to ignore the sinking feeling of not having Dean around you. 

You were just about to fall asleep when you heard the bunker door. You sat up, smiling widely when you watched Sam descend the stairs. 

“Heya Sammy, how was the hunt?” you asked and Sam groaned, “Alright, got a little off plan but we made it out alive for the most part.” He smirked making you laugh nervously. 

“Sorry, i forgot that word makes you nervous.” He states. You shake your head.

“No that’s okay, good, i’m glad you’re both okay. I made some dinner, it’s in the oven and i have a salad for you sitting on the counter, just add your dressing. Help yourself.” You smile and Sam sighs happily. “You’re god sent.” He says as he heads to the kitchen. You chuckle. 

Dean makes his way down, when you finally turn back to face him, he’s holding out some flowers for you. 

“Oh!” you say surprised before taking them from him. You bring them to your nose, smelling them before smiling, admiring all the beautiful colours. You didn’t know they even made rainbow roses or half the colours that you were looking at. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” Dean speaks and you smile up at him. “Wow, um, i wasn’t expecting anything, thank you Dean, they’re beautiful.” You say before looking back down at them, you hold them close, frowning before even realizing it. 

Dean raises a brow, “Are you sure? Doesn’t seem like you like them too much.” He chuckles, confused at your expression. You look back up at him, shaking your head. 

“What? No no, i love them, i just uh, no one’s ever given me flowers, ever, it’s - i uh- just surprised that’s all, i love them.” You smile, reaching up and pecking his cheek. 

Dean frowns at her, “What? Seriously? well sorry to hear that, you deserve to get flowers always.” He smiles before he eyes you. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asks, you look down before blushing slightly. “Yeah, i was doing laundry and i was kinda bored and missed you guys, so i figured if i wore your shirt it would be comforting and make me feel less alone in this huge bunker.” You smile, and he matches it. 

“Well, i like it on you, if it makes you feel better, keep it.” He smiles before setting his bags down on the table. You move to find a vase for the flowers, letting him know his favorite meal is in the oven keeping warm. 

He smiles before rushing his way to the kitchen, he washes his hands first before digging into the meal. 

“Wow, y/n. You really outdid yourself this time, this is amazing.” He compliments, digging into his third portion of his food. You giggle. “I’m happy you like it.” You smile, watching him enjoying himself as you slowly eat your own plate. 

----------

It was 10PM when everyone finally settled for bed. Sammy was snoring away and you chuckled at how much space he acually used on his bed before you closed his door, picking up the dirty clothes he took off along the way so you could clean them tomorrow. 

When you got to Dean’s room, his door was slightly cracked, his lamp still on, you peeked your head in so see him reading, miracle lay asleep next to him, making soft noises everytime Dean rubbed his belly or scratched his head. That dog was surely becoming dean’s best friend and he was either always in Dean’s room, or yours. 

Dean looks up when he notices you, “Hey Y/n.” He smiles and you pick up his clothes. “Hey, Can’t sleep? I figured after that hunt you’d be exhausted.” You speak softly and he shrugs, “I am, but i have trouble sleeping anyways, even when i am exhausted. What are you doing up?” He asks and you shrug. 

“I napped all day, not really very sleepy. Figred i’d grab all yours and Sam’s clothes from today and get them cleaned.” You sigh and smile.

Dean frowns. “No, leave that, i can do it tomorrow. Here, come relax and we’ll watch a movie.” He pulls back his sheet and pats the bed next to him, turning his tv on and putting his book away. 

You shake your head. “No, you’re reading and i don’t want to bother you.” You huff and smile when frowns at you.

“You never bother me, i always have time for you.” He smiles widely and you laugh. You give in, snuggling into his bed and letting him pick the movie when he asks what you want to watch. 

It’s 20 minutes into the movie when you slowly begin to fall asleep, you roll to face Dean and notice he’s pretty much asleep too but wakes up a little at the movement. He pulls you closer and you chuckle. 

“I don’t think i even remember what this movie is about.” You chuckle and he smiles. “It’s the cuddles, they’re like a sleeping pill.” He speaks softly, his voice deep and sleep filled and it gives you goosebumps.

You watch him for a minute, smiling at how peaceful he looks. 

“Stop staring, it’s weird.” He smirks and you smack him slightly. “I’m not staring.” You lie but he chuckles, “It’s okay, you can admit i’m hot.” He teases and you laugh. “I mean, you are nice to look at, but that’s not why i was staring.” You state and he opens one eye, smirking. 

“So you admit you were staring?” You roll your eyes before smacking him. “Can you be serious for a second?” You ask and he opens both eyes now, watching you. “Okay, serious face, what’s going on in that pretty head.” He asks, his hands moves higher on your hip and lands on your back, the warmth of his hand on your bare back where your shirt had risen. 

“I just uh, i wanted to say something because there’s things i need you to know.” You begin and Dean stops you. “Y/N, you don’t have to say anything, okay, i know you’re still freaked about that hunt two months ago, but i’m here, i made it out and you’re not going to lose me.” He assures you but you shush him.

“No, i wasn’t there, Dean. I wasn’t able to be there because of my stupid broken ankle and you almost di..i almost lost you, and if Sam hadn’t called for help, you would’ve just been, gone. You would’ve died and i wouldn’t have been there to say goodbye and i can’t handle that. I know you’re okay, and i know you made it back, but that was a really close call, and i don’t ever want you in that position again, i don’t want you to ever be that close to death without knowing some things, so i need to say something.” You take a deep breath and he let’s you speak, nodding softly when you tell him to please just let you get it out. 

“The way i feel when i’m with you, it’s not like anything i’ve ever felt before. It scares me, it really does. You and Sam, you guys are my world, my family, but you, you’re ... different. What i feel for you is different than what i feel for Sammy, ya know. I’m better when i’m with you, i’m happier, confident, i feel safe, and like a badass, i feel like i can do anything in the world because you make me feel like i can, you make me feel invincible. It scares me sometimes because i feel like when i mess up i’m disappointing you and i hate doing that, or when i get hurt and you hover over me with that scared look in your eyes, it terrifies me because i don’t ever want you to feel scared or angry or disappointed in me.” You pause, sighed and taking a deep breath. 

He sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Y/n, you never disappoint me, i need you to know that. You mean a shit ton to me, sometimes im just scared something is going to go wrong and i’ll lose you, and that terrifies me, you’re the best thing that’s ever walked into my life and i don’t think i could handle losing you. Other than Sam, you’re the most important person in my life.”

He smiles and you shush him. “I wasn’t done.” You press a finger to his lips and he laughs softly, “Sorry, continue.” He watches amused as you finish. 

“You make me really happy, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. You’ve changed my life, made it better, more fun, and i can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. I just need you to know how much i appreciate you, you’re kind, smart, strong, protective, sometimes hot headed and stubborn, but there isn’t a single thing i’d change about you. I love you, Dean.” You smile. 

“There, now i’m done.” You smirk and he laughs. He doesn’t say anything, just studies your face, his hands reaches to cup your cheek and his thumb runs over your lip.

“I love you too, y/n.” He says, simply, no hesitation. He leans in and before you can say anything he’s kissing you, it’s slow and warm and tender, you pull him closer, letting your tongue meet his. 

You both catch your breath, he leans in, his forehead pressed softly against yours.

“I’m really glad you’re still here.” You speak, pressing your hand over his heart. He places a kiss against your forehead. 

“Yeah, me too, sweetheart.” 

#dean winchester #Dean winchester x Reader

[blackbutterfliescal]

Your Rainbow Will Coming Smiling Through

A Michael Clifford One Shot

Pairing: Single Dad!Michael Clifford & OC Zoey Clifford

Word count: 4.8K

Rating: Mostly fluff with a side of angst

Requested by: Absolutely not a goddamn soul. I’m just here to be soft n emo, I guess.

Content: 3rd person POV, OC Zoey as Michael’s daughter, major character death (main character’s spouse is dead), side of Malum because I couldn’t help myself

A/N: This is based on Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Cinderella” and it’s lived in my head for a long time. The title is based on lyrics from “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Disney’s Cinderella. I don’t normally engage with a lot of dad!sos content for personal reasons, but this idea has lived in my head rent free for far too long so I hope you like it! Big big thank you to @devilatmydoor and @spicycal for encouraging me to get this one done!! It’s only taken me a month lmao

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———

Dinner had been an event. It seemed like it was always an event these days. Pasta noodles and vegetables hung from the walls in the small eat-in kitchen, reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock. Michael let out a deep sigh and ran a hand across his tired face. He’d been so sure that the new recipe would be a hit, but his headstrong three year old had dashed that hope almost immediately. Since quarantine began a few weeks ago, she’d grown bored of staying home and had begun to take her frustrations out on the only other person around. Each day in the modest apartment brought a new challenge but the theme this week was picky eating habits. Michael had tried old favorites, trendy recipes from mommy bloggers, and he’d even let Zoey pick what he bought at the grocery. Honestly, he’d tried anything and everything if he thought it meant she wouldn’t fight him at every meal.

Michael picked up the plates from the table, scraping the few bites that weren’t subjected to his daughter’s wrath into the trashcan by the door. As the dishes landed in the small sink and Michael turned on the tap, he bent forward to rest his forearms on the counter. One glance around the warzone kitchen had tears stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them from falling to no avail, eyes blurring as the droplets got lost in the flowing water and spiraled down the drain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to be in this together,” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper as his thoughts raced and he struggled to compose himself. His voice came out coarse as his frustrated cries hung in the air until it became too thick to breathe in. “It’s been nearly ten months and I’m still no good without you. Zoey’s just like you and I need you here.” He’d hoped setting his thoughts free might ease his mind, but it only made the words weigh heavier on his slumped shoulders. Michael’s pleas were desperate through the sobs. “I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to do. You always did.” He was barely thirty when he’d been made a widower, carrying the constant grief of a life unlived, seeing a shadow where there should have been a spouse.

He’d been told repeatedly that things would get easier with time but he didn’t think there’d ever be a day where he didn’t need her, didn’t see her in their baby girl. He pulled himself upright with a deep inhale, using the back of his hand to wipe tear stains from his cheeks. Michael couldn’t stop the incessant sniffling brought on by the tears while he continued to take steady breaths through his mouth. He pulled all his focus to wash the few dishes still left from the night and placed them in the drying rack before shutting off the tap. He wrung out the dish towel and began using it to scrub down the mess on the walls. Their dogs seemed to have made quick work of cleaning up the peas that got sprayed across the tiled floor while Michael cleaned up Zoey in the bath and he assumed they’d already made their way to her room.

Through a few small, shaky inhales, he heard a familiar tune playing from the other end of the hallway. After tossing the bits of dinner that he’d pulled off the wall into the bin, he closed the lid and hung the dish towel across the faucet to dry. He quietly made his way to Zoey’s room as the music grew louder, sparing a quick glance in the hall mirror so his disheveled state didn’t alarm Zoey.

He had forgotten that he’d placed an old CD player in her room with several of his old favorites in a small case. Every now and then she liked to listen to his CDs while she played. She usually needed her dad to help her turn it on but it seemed she’d found the play button on her own and begun the same tunes they’d danced to earlier that week. Her curls, still mildly damp from her bath after the messy dinner, bounced around her round face as she spun in circles and giggles fell from her mouth freely. She’d slipped a sparkly dress-up outfit over her pajamas and the matching tiara had almost completely slipped free from her hair. Michael noticed both dogs intently watched from the bed and he let a bittersweet smile tug at his lips while she twirled around the room. Zoey reminded him most of her late mother when she smiled and it made his heart swell, reminding him that she wasn’t completely gone.

When Zoey looked up and noticed him in the doorway, a delighted squeal came from her mouth. “Daddy!! C’mon, I need you! There’s a ball at the castle and I’ve been invited and I need to practice my dancing. Please! Daddy, please!” She wrapped both of her hands around Michael’s fingers and tugged him to the middle of the carpet as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Once she was satisfied with where he stood, she steadied herself and placed her bare feet on top of his shoes, reaching out to grab his other hand. His grip on her was secure as he moved the two of them around merrily, careful not to let her slip from her place on top of his feet. Since losing Zoey’s mom, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let the little moments pass him by. He knew that someday, much sooner than he’d like, someone would steal his little girl’s heart away from him but he wanted to cherish every moment until then. Even if it did include meal-time tantrums.

The upbeat track faded out, replaced by soft guitar chords and a sweetly crooning melody. In one smooth motion, Michael lifted Zoey into his arms and began to sway with her. Her petite hand landed against his warm cheek as she met his green eyes. She studied him for a beat before he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall shut. As Michael began to sing along softly, Zoey pulled away from his face and adjusted herself down to rest against his chest. He nuzzled her close and smiled at the memory that her mother had always found a calmness in the way his voice vibrated through his chest as well.

“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

It had been an exhausting evening and it didn’t take long for familiar snores to fill the air from where Zoey rested beneath his chin. He smiled and silently thanked the universe that the last song on the album had been a ballad. Careful not to wake her, he kept a gentle rock in his measured steps as he clicked off the lights through the apartment. Making his way back into her room, he lifted the light blue covers on her small bed while the dogs shifted toward the far end. When he tried to slide her onto the pillow, Zoey’s grip on his shirt tightened and she let out a sleepy groan. Michael shushed her sweetly with a lighthearted laugh and pulled her back into him. He reached down again to pull the covers back further, causing both dogs to move to the floor with a huff, before slipping between them and letting her rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He covered them both and began to hum the sweet melody once more, letting the combination of his voice and heartbeat lull his daughter to sleep again. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to a much-needed night of rest.

———

With a contented sigh, Zoey placed her new boots on the floor, lining them up to sit below the dress hanging on a singular coat hook on the wall to the right of her closet.

She’d spent nearly every weekend for the past month piled into her dad’s car with her friends, scouring every dress shop in the city. In typical Zoey fashion, she wasn’t interested in an oversized dress with heels that she’d ultimately kick off after the first song played. Somewhere around the fourth store - or maybe fifth? - her friend had shoved her into a fitting room with an understated black a-line they’d picked for her. Though she wasn’t typically a fan of lace or tulle, she knew it was the one she’d spent her time looking for. She knew the lace appliques delicately placed across the neckline would soften up the leather boots and jacket she was already planning to wear.

She pulled one bare foot underneath her and plopped down on her bed, queuing up a lowkey playlist and admiring the outfit she’d put together. She could admit that it was nice to check the prom dress off her to-do list but the centerpiece of the outfit was her mom’s vintage leather jacket. Her dad had gifted it to her years ago, telling her about how excited her mother had been to save up for a real leather jacket and how she’d shopped through every store in the city to find the right one. Not unlike the way he’d seen Zoey searching for the right prom dress.

Of course, Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mom, except for the stories Michael had told her over the years. Somehow, things like her mother’s old leather jacket, still in great condition, made her feel connected to the woman she barely remembered. Zoey often wondered how she could miss someone she couldn’t remember on her own. Maybe some of it was secondhand grief from years of watching her father. Either way, she always felt too nervous to actually wear her mom’s jacket, afraid she’d do something to ruin it, wrecking the already thin tie she had to her. While Michael had always done his best to fill both parental roles, some problems were bigger than he could handle alone. On difficult nights when she needed a mom, Zoey dug the jacket out of the closet and just held it close, hoping to find some guidance from whatever cosmic forces were out there. Now, she’d decided, prom was as good an occasion as any to actually wear it out. It was a big night and she wanted to feel both of her parents there.

As she picked up her laptop to tackle the last few assignments of senior year, Michael’s knuckles rapped on the open door that led to her room. The sound pulled her from her reverie and she glanced up to see her dad in the doorway. Michael, mid-40s, donned large wide-rimmed glasses and his hair was cut short around his face. His natural shade had lightened quite a bit over the years while the ever-present scruff on his chin had taken on shining grey tones. He smiled fondly, taking in the outfit Zoey had put together as it hung on the wall before turning to meet her expectant gaze. Her smile beamed as she questioned, “Do you like it? Do you think Allison will like it? Her dress is baby pink so we’re going to be the least coordinated couple there. But I guess that’s fitting.” A small laugh fell from her mouth as she looked back at the all black ensemble. Michael still heard Zoey’s mom in that laugh and felt a pull in his chest seeing that jacket again. He nodded in response before pointing to the quilted leather. “She’d be so proud of you, you know?” His voice held a tinge of sadness amidst the pride he held for his baby girl.

“No!! No, no no. Don’t cry. You know that only ends with both of us crying!” Zoey slid the laptop to the side and made her way to the man occupying her door frame. He let out a sniffing laugh and shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around him while burying her head in his broad chest. Michael rested his head on top of hers before placing a small kiss on top of her hair. He’d always made sure that she felt safe with him. No matter what was going on elsewhere, it was the two of them versus the world. But damn it all if he didn’t wish that she had her mom here to see the amazing young woman she’d become.

Zoey’s playlist continued quietly and Michael began to rock back and forth as she relaxed into his arms. He knew moments like this would only get harder to come by in a few short weeks. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye, right in front of him. He wanted to keep her close as long as he could. It didn’t matter that dinner was downstairs, getting colder by the minute. Slowly, “Moon River” crept through the speakers and Zoey pulled her head back. “Wait a minute. This is the song we have to dance to,” she whispered. The smile on her face shifted from sweet to teasing and Michael braced for whatever quick-witted remark she had for him. “We gotta work on your moves, old man!” Michael rolled his eyes in response and let out a sarcastic laugh at her words. “Dad, the prom is just one week away and we need to practice our dancing. Please, daddy, please.”

It was custom that each senior waltzed with a parent, or some other guardian, at the very beginning of the prom. Families were only allowed in during this dance and would be ushered out after every group of seniors had taken their turn. Michael and Zoey had been at every after school rehearsal for the past 6 weeks, trying desperately to learn the choreographed steps. Zoey had mastered the box steps with ease. The turning box took a few more tries, but she got it eventually. Michael had taken even more practice though, and she was determined they would perfect the steps before they were in front of all her friends. He didn’t object, not wanting to embarrass her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michael stepped further into his daughter’s room, helping her push a few things out of the way as she started the song over and stood tall in her ballroom posture. Michael took small steps but still managed to run into a few things as Zoey coached him through the routine. They made it through to the end of the song unscathed and upright, counting that as a victory.

As Zoey let her rigid posture drop, Michael placed both of his hands on each side of her head, pulling her close again to place another kiss on top of her head. “We’ve got this, Z,” he reassured her. She snaked her arms around to his back as the next song on her playlist began. They stood still in the silence as a familiar voice began to croon through the air. “Do you remember that I used to sing this to you to get you to sleep? It always did the trick after a rough day,” Michael mused as his hands brushed over her hair, reminiscing on days gone by. She leaned back to look up at her dad’s face before answering. “Of course I do! Why do you think I listen to it so often?”

The greying scruff on Michael’s chin made her giggle as it tickled her forehead where he left a kiss. “My sweet girl,” he mused as they began to sway again. She hummed along with the melody before Michael joined in, smooth voice lilting over the recording.

“Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong and will never part. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you and I always will.”

In true Clifford fashion, Zoey’s stomach rumbled through the otherwise quiet bedroom as the next verse began. It sent both of them into a fit of laughter, reminding Michael of the reason he came up to her room in the first place - the dinner waiting downstairs. Zoey stopped her playlist before they made their way to the kitchen, voicing their concerns that the cats had jumped up on the counter to help themselves.

———

Zoey couldn’t help the smile stretched across her full cheeks as she parked her car in front of her father’s home. As she reached for the door handle, her free hand lifted the back of her fiancée’s palm to her cherry chapstick-covered smile and she placed a series of small kisses. Allison’s warm eyes met Zoey’s gaze with a blissful smile of her own before she spoke hesitantly. “The last planning session before everything is in motion. Ready for all the questions from Mr. Wedding Planner in there?” Zoey’s eyebrows quirked up and she reached behind the seats to pull out her planning binder. “Ready if you are!” They stepped out of the car and laughter followed them through the front door to announce their arrival.

The butterflies in Zoey’s stomach hadn’t diminished even slightly since the moment Allison got down on one knee during family game night. Though if Zoey honestly thought about it, the butterflies had been there since she worked up the nerve to ask Allison to prom as her girlfriend. She hoped she’d have the flutter in the pit of her stomach as long as she had air in her lungs. 

The proposal had been intimate and thoughtful and sweet and perfectly them. Allison had enlisted Michael’s help, along with his long-term partner Calum, to spell out “marry me” on the game board during Scrabble. The three of them had needed to work together and it had taken a couple rounds of play for the right letters to show up. Zoey was so engrossed in the game that it took her a few beats to piece it together, even as Allison dropped to the floor in front of her while Michael tried to keep the happy tears from falling. Since then, the days had been speeding by at a dizzying pace and she felt like the big day would sneak up on her if she blinked too slowly.

They made their way through the home, cast in an amber glow from the autumn sunset, and found Michael and Calum putting the finishing touches on their typical Tuesday night dinner. Michael had always been a good cook but he’d thrown himself into more complex recipes with the extra time he had in his early retirement. The delicious aroma wafted through the open air to greet the brides-to-be as they exchanged familiar greetings with the gracefully greying men, arms held open expectantly. 

“I see someone came prepared,” Calum teased, pointing in the direction of Zoey’s wedding planning binder. “I learned from the best,” she winked in return. Calum had earned his living as an event planner before retiring to spend his days with Michael and he’d been all too eager to help out. Sometimes he was a little overzealous, especially when it came to flowers, but neither bride worried over it. He had thirty-something years of experience and they would put his expertise to good use as long as he wanted to help.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You know better than to be shy around here - dig in!” Michael’s cheerful lilt brought out a chorus of laughter as the four of them began to pile their plates high with his savory creations.

Dinner together was never dull; someone always had a story to tell. Allison was gunning for a big promotion at work while Zoey worked hard to manage the small business she started last year. Michael told of all the highs and lows in his cooking adventures that week and how he’d befriended a neighborhood cat that had appeared on their porch. Calum had warned him not to feed it but eventually found the bowl under the front steps that he’d been sneaking scraps into. In the years they’d lived together, Calum made the local farmer’s market a habit and that week Michael had finally gone with him. He should have known Calum would have everyone wrapped around his finger. He couldn’t help his amazement at the way Calum charmed all the vendors into some sort of special sale for his produce, flowers, or baked goods. He noticed that Calum was the only one who seemed to be privy to these discounts. Michael couldn’t even be upset though because Calum had gotten a beautiful sunflower bouquet just for him. Calum would never admit that he just wanted to know he still had it - whatever it was.

With four sets of hands, clean up happened quickly before the wedding binder was sprawled across the table. They spent the next few hours pouring over choices for every imaginable detail. Calum had helped them create a checklist and prioritize important items and extremely time sensitive details. They managed to cross off a few more items on the checklist before Michael decided it was time to bring out dessert - apple pie with the tart apples from the “Apple of My Pie” stall that Calum had recommended at the farmer’s market.

When she was sure Michael was out of earshot, Zoey leaned across the table to whisper to Calum. “So when are we doing this for you two?” she asked as she threw a glance at her dad’s back. Allison did her best to control her laughter at the obvious prying. Calum simply waved her off with a smile, “We’ve been together, what, twelve years? Just after you started college? I think he’s stuck with me at this point, ring or no ring.” Zoey’s inquisitive stare didn’t falter at Calum’s light humor so he continued to entertain her question with a more serious tone. “You know… we’ve talked about it but he always said he couldn’t remarry after losing your mom. I always thought I wanted a wedding, even just a small one for friends and family, but it’s one thing I won’t push him about.” Calum’s eyes were filled with adoration as they settled on Michael’s back where he stood carefully slicing the pie. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll take this in whatever way makes him comfortable, in whatever way he’ll have me.”

When he turned back to face her, to see if his answer satisfied her curiosity, her eyes were brimming with emotion and concern immediately painted his features before she spoke. “I always thought maybe he didn’t remarry because of me, because he didn’t want me to feel left behind or something. And maybe that’s selfish or strange. But I couldn’t be more thankful that he has someone as caring and thoughtful as you, Cal.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she swallowed down her overwhelming joy. She punctuated her sentiment by placing her hands over one of his on the table. As he sandwiched her hands between his, he told her how lucky he felt to get to spend the rest of life loving Michael and that he didn’t need a marriage certificate to do that. Allison placed a grounding hand across Zoey’s back as they all inconspicuously sat back into their seats just in time for Michael to return with apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. If he suspected anything about the conversation between his daughter and his partner, he didn’t let on as they continued to make their way down the wedding checklist between delighted mouthfuls of pie.

The hours passed as they sat around the kitchen table picking out scripts for the invites, flowers for the ceremony, centerpieces for the reception, and favors for the wedding party. Allison stretched her arms over her head, soliciting several put off responses at the loud cracking noise her spine made. “Ew, yourself,” she joked as she rose from her spot at the table. As she moved toward the living room, she turned over her shoulder to suggest that they all take a break from hunching over the pages of options laid out in the binder. Everyone else seemed reluctant, not wanting to lose the momentum they’d already built up. Allison turned her back to them and made her way to the record player next to the couch. She carefully pulled a sleeve from the shelf and let it begin spinning before making her way back to the table where the others still sat. 

As she passed through the doorway, the beats of “Heartbreak Hotel” sounded through the room and she swung her hips wide with the best Elvis impression she could manage. The overstated moves earned a laugh from her fiancée and wolf whistles from the two men seated across from her. Allison pulled Zoey from her seat and shimmied them back into the living room for a dance break, despite Zoey’s protests that they still had several items to work through. Allison assured her that’s why she needed a dance break and that they’d get back to it as soon as the record needed to be flipped over. To Allison’s complete delight, Zoey caved and danced with her until the bluesy tune faded into a familiar ballad.

Zoey turned toward the dining room to find that Calum and Michael had followed to watch them from the safety of the door. The two men stood as if they were made to fit together. Michael’s head rested perfectly on Calum’s shoulder and his hands splayed softly across Calum’s stomach under Calum’s hands. Even so, Zoey knew she still had her dad wrapped around her finger after all these years. She put on the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage and stretched out her arms before pleading with him, “The wedding’s still six months away, but I need to practice my dancing. Please, daddy, please.” His sheepish smile was bright in the low lamp light as he maneuvered around Calum. Michael placed a kiss to Calum’s smiling cheek as he squeezed through the door frame beside him. “You know I’ll never turn down a dance with my best girl,” he remarked as he took her in his arms. Calum, in turn, made a large sweeping motion as he bowed to Allison. “May I please have this dance?” Always a drama queen in every group. Allison laughed and took his hand, letting him lead her across the small room in an effort not to intrude on Zoey and Michael’s sweet moment.

Michael hummed along to the melody and his voice vibrated through his chest under Zoey’s head, sweeping a sense of nostalgia over her. “Dad?” she questioned as she lifted her head to look into his pale green eyes. They’d become even more pronounced over the years as the color faded from his hair, though he tried to hide behind the wide-rimmed glasses that stopped just above his full cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were slow to open and he only offered a hum in response. “What if we made this our father-daughter dance at the reception? I know it’s not a typical choice, but it would just mean a lot to me and -” Michael’s lips landed soft against Zoey’s forehead with a smile, immediately soothing her rambling mind. “I would love that, Z.”

Not trusting her mind and voice to work with her, Zoey simply nodded and nuzzled her head back into Michael’s chest, hugging him as close as possible. Michael’s smile grew as he tossed a glance across the room to where Allison and Calum swayed casually, lost in some giddy conversation if their expressions were any indication. With a contented sigh, he placed another kiss on top of Zoey’s curls. His voice was soft at first, only loud enough for Zoey to hear, but then it grew just enough to be heard over the record player as he sang.

“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine. I'll be yours through all the years, ‘til the end of time. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

He couldn’t help watching Allison and Calum as they looked over fondly. Michael thought of all the times it was just him and Zoey against the world. Everything had changed so much since he lost her mom. He couldn’t believe how their little family had grown over the years and he was so proud of the life they’d made and the love they all shared. Michael tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as the last lines closed out.

———

taglist: @easierlftv @haikucal @mashlums @youngblood199456 @calumbroutledge @alltimesos @another-lonely-heart @castaway-cashton @itsjen223 @bloodyoathcal @vapor5sos​ @myloverboyash​ @justhereforcalum​ @karajaynetoday​ @spicycal​ @devilatmydoor​

#my writing #michael clifford #michael clifford one shot #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford blurb #calum hood #malum #malum fluff #malum blurb #malum one shot #it only took me nine years and im sure it'll flop but at least it doesn't live in my head anymore lmao alsdkjfhlakjh #does this count as malum??? kind of???

[ryntheseeker]

moms made fullmetal week: day 1

prompt: baby talk

check out @moms-made-fullmetal-2020​ ! 

there’s nothing sweeter than my baby

Riza Hawkeye had never pictured herself a mother, much less one to use baby talk. But something about the beautiful baby in arms brought it out in her. “Look at my sweet girl,” she cooed. “Head full of hair just like your father.” 

Mae’s golden brown eyes looked up at her, and she broke out into a toothless smile. She kicked her legs excitedly and babbled. Riza’s heart swelled, and she laughed softly. “You’re so beautiful, Mae,” she said, brushing her nose against the tuft of black hair on her head. “My sweet little girl, aren’t you?” Mae babbled some more. “Mhm, the cutest little baby ever.”

“She is pretty cute,” Roy said from the doorway. 

Riza turned to face her husband, and her brow arched at him. “How long have you been lurking over there?” 

“Not very long,” he answered, stepping into the nursery. “You want me to take over?”

“I could use a cup of tea and a shower,” Riza said, pretending to think about it for a moment. She smiled and gently handed their baby over to him. She could never get over how cute they looked. How Mae looked like she was his twin. 

“Away with you,” Roy said, waving his hand to Riza. “It’s time for dad and Mae to have some time together.” He waited until Riza was gone to sit in the rocking chair that he’d made for his wife. “Adorable little girl, have you been good for mom today?” He lightly tickled her tiny feet, earning a few kicks and happy babbling. “I thought so.” 

He stood up after a moment, holding his hands under her arms to twirl around the room. “My Mae doesn’t know how to be a little monster, does she?” he asked, rubbing their noses together. Mae put her hands on his face, smacking him as her legs kicked out in excitement. “No, she’s the sweetest baby! Aren’t you?” 

Mae couldn’t stop her little baby version of laughter, and Roy pulled her back into his arms, grinning. “Are you telling me stories? Hm?” he asked, turning around and coming face-to-face with Riza. “I thought you were going to take a shower.”

“And miss this?” she said as she stepped into the room again, wrapping her arm around Roy’s waist. Mae looked between her parents, talking gibberish with an adorable smile. “She does like to tell stories. But I also think she’s like you and loves the sound of her own voice.”

“Hey,” Roy said, feigning offense. He turned to press his lips against Riza’s temple, smiling. “I love you.” He looked back down at Mae. “And you, baby girl.” 

Riza couldn’t help but smile at the two of them together. Two peas in a pod, for sure. But she loved it. “I believe you said that it was your turn to make dinner tonight,” she said, moving to take Mae back from him. 

“Oh did I?” Roy asked. He handed Mae back to her, chuckling a little. “All right, ladies, what’s on the menu today?” 

Mae babbled in Riza’s arms. “I think she said pasta,” Riza said with a smile. She listened as Mae continued to talk. “With chicken. And asparagus.” 

“Anything for my girls,” Roy said, giving Riza a kiss before heading to their kitchen. 

“You have a pretty good dad,” Riza said, looking down at her daughter’s chubby cheeks, tinged just the barest shade of pink. She had slobber rolling down her chin and Riza couldn’t help but laugh. She went to the changing table and pulled out a small little cloth piece to wipe the drool away. “What a mess, silly girl!” She draped the cloth over her shoulder, shaking her head a little, though her smile stayed. “Do you want a bottle, baby?” Mae kicked her legs and squealed in excitement. “Okay, Mae, let’s go get a bottle!” 

Riza carried her out to the kitchen, where Roy had started cooking their dinner. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his military jacket slung over a chair. “Madam Mae Elizabeth requests a bottle,” she said. 

Roy laughed. “Then she shall have a bottle,” he said. He reached into their cabinets for a bottle and the formula. When he was finished, he handed it to Riza. “For the madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Riza said, taking Mae and the bottle to their living room. She sat down on the couch to start feeding Mae her bottle, laughing when Mae started reaching for it. “Yes, madam, here you go.” She smiled down at Mae as she ate, feeling happier than she ever had. “Look at how big you’ve gotten, Mae! You’re almost holding the bottle yourself!” Her tone was soft, and higher than anyone had ever heard. 

Mae looked up at her mom, her eyes wide. Riza was grateful that she could see something of herself in her daughter. “You’re getting so big! Soon you’ll be able to tell dad to make the bottles yourself!” She laughed softly, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. She took a deep breath, just breathing in that baby smell that she’d grown so fond of. “My sweet baby girl. I love you so much.” She loved Mae more than she’d ever loved another person, though Roy was a close second. “Don’t ever doubt that, Mae. Your mom and dad love you so much.” 

Mae kicked her legs as if she understood what Riza was saying and it made her laugh, happy tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She looked up as Roy came in. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, his tone colored with concern. 

“Yes,” Riza said, looking back down at their daughter. “Everything is perfect.”

#moms-made-fullmetal-2020 #royai #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #fma fanfic #fma fic #ryn writes

[tirednotflirting]

couch cuddles - l.h.

school is kicking my ass and I miss my friends like mad so yes, I projected all of that here at around 2am after yelling about this sweet pic of Luke with @castaway-cashton​. 

hope everyone is finding ways to manage all of the time indoors these days. I’ve been thankful for the community on here during all of this. much love and happy reading (and pls send me thoughts, I’m still new to this and horrible at editing).

wc: ~1.6k

They were nearing the end of their third week in quarantine. Three weeks of being locked up inside (aside from a brief gloved trip to the grocery at the beginning of week two). 21 days of zoom meetings with her graduate advisor and radio interviews on facetime, of creative pasta dishes (the one thing had randomly stocked up on even before this all happened), of afternoons in the backyard watching Petunia run in circles until she stopped in front of their chairs, her sad eyes practically begging to be taken to a dog park that was unfortunately closed until this was all over.

They had settled into a routine pretty quickly. She wouldn’t start her work before 9 and unless he had some international interview he had to take part in, Luke would do the same. She would plug in her laptop and stick her phone on do not disturb at 6pm sharp. Luke would keep his stuck in the deep pockets of his sweats, always eager for a sporadic facetime from a tipsy Calum asking to let the dogs say hello or Ash calling for him to listen to a new melody he had thought up or Mike sending him another twitter meme. They switched back and forth on who made dinner, Luke had been enjoying trying things from the beginner’s cookbooks his mom had sent him sometime during the last year. They watched a lot of movies. She read a lot of books, he spent a good deal of time playing around with different songs they had been trying in the studio during February. With everything going on, she figured there were worse ways she could be living than doing what she could for her research and TAing from the comfort of her sweet boy’s kitchen table.

She had started to pick up on his cabin fever when their day began at around 5am with Luke shifting around in the bed so much it almost felt like he was doing something choreographed. After 15 minutes of his dance, she sat up on her elbow and reached for her phone to check the time. She didn’t remember exactly what the bright digits displayed across a picture of Luke and Petunia with flowers tucked behind their ears she had snapped a couple months prior were other than too early.

‘Honey, are you feeling alright?’ she asked quietly, her throat dry from sleep, as she leaned back from the bedside table. Her hand moved back to cross his chest as his own wrapped around her waist.

‘Yeah, just can’t get comfy,’ he huffed, obviously frustrated by the random early morning energy. ‘Gonna go let Miss P out for a minute. Go back to sleep, angel, you need your rest.’

While she wanted to further investigate what was up with her tired eyed boy, she immediately felt herself yawning. She lifted her head from his chest and pressed her lips to his jaw before letting her head fall back to the pillows as she felt his weight lift from the mattress.

When she woke up next, it was to the sound of her alarm and an empty bed. She padded out to the kitchen and was greeted with a kiss to the top of her cheek and her coffee. (‘I think I got the sugar to cream ratio right this time but please give me feedback, lovie.’) She shrugged off the morning, brushing off his odd early jitters with the fact that they had both been getting a lot more sleep than normal given the new situation.  

She had been busy throughout the day. It was a Thursday, her busy day, even with the quarantine. In the morning, she zoom called her advisor to check in with her more personally but also to update her on where she had gotten that week with the data she had been sifting through (being stuck outside of the lab made for good reason to finally do some data work). She did a meeting after lunch for the undergrad course she was TAing this semester. Though that discussion section had basically turned into everyone just talking about their pets and families more than talking about evolutionary theory (they needed to see faces though so she didn’t mind the chatter). She held virtual office hours after that for a couple hours (more chattering with a little bit of explaining how that equilibrium equation worked again).

So by the time her 6pm switch to do not disturb rolled around, she was more than looking forward to spending a few hours on the couch with a glass of wine and the new book she had ordered that arrived that morning.

She’d been settled on the couch for about 15 minutes and was raising a stemless glass of pinot grigio to her lips, when she looked through the big window in the living room that gave a nice view of the yard only to see Petunia wandering around but no sign of her golden boy. She looked to check what page she’d reached, mentally marking her place before getting up to look for where Luke had wandered off to, when she heard socked feet shuffling into the living room behind her. She turned her head to find the sweet face she hadn’t seen hardly at all since she was handed her morning coffee so many hours earlier. His normally bright eyes looked worried and his dimples hidden by a pouted frown.

‘Sweet pea, what’s the matter?’ she questioned, the hand not holding her novel reaching for his once he’d wandered close enough to where she sat on the couch, her left leg still folded up while her right rested against the floor, ready to get up to hug the droopy boy. She doesn’t get a chance to though as he moved to sit beside her, his fingers playing with hers almost nervously.

‘Miss the guys,’ came a quiet voice that sounded like it was coming from a tight throat. ‘And like, we’re so lucky here. And the album is doing well and the fans have pushed so much on this release. And we’re healthy and everyone we love is healthy but,’ he blinked really hard before continuing, ‘I just wanna see them. Like actually see them.’

She leaned forward to leave her book on the coffee table before moving her hand to rub at the back of his neck, her fingers working through the knots in his curls there, trying to get him to release some of the tension in his shoulders. ‘And I love being here with you and we would never normally get this much time together during an album release and I know I shouldn’t be whining and-‘

He stopped short when she pulled her hand from his and placed it against his cheek to turn his face towards her. ‘Babe, you don’t have to apologize for feeling right now,’ her thumb stroked against the top of his normally rosy cheek. ‘You’re allowed to be upset and you’re allowed to miss your boys. You’re never gone from them for this long, it makes sense.’

He opened his mouth to respond but then just nuzzled against her palm when she shushed him. ‘And I love being here with you too but that doesn’t mean I’m not bummed that my sister canceled her trip out here and that I don’t miss seeing my students every week.’

Across the room, the clatter of Petunia’s paws against the tile in the kitchen sounded out as she trotted towards the couch. Luke sniffled a little bit, and the girl he’s practically sitting on top of felt a tear against the thumb still running across his cheekbone. Petunia must have sensed the sadness coming from the couch as she jumped up and pushed herself against Luke’s legs, looking up at him for pets.

Luke blinked back tears again, his head leaning back to face the ceiling and the hand at the back of his neck moved to scratch between his shoulders. ‘I know it can’t make it go away but how about cuddles for a bit and then we can facetime everyone after dinner? See what they’re up to maybe?’ she whispered, suddenly aware of the stillness of the room.

His lips pouted a bit as he nodded and turned to her. ‘Can I lay in your lap so Petunia can get cuddles too?’

She let herself giggle softly at his request, not being able to help herself as she leaned forward to brush her lips against his pout. ‘Of course, sweet pea.’

He maneuvered his long limbs so Petunia was tucked against him (easiest access for tummy rubs) and laid his sleepy head in his girl’s lap. As one hand returned to the glass of wine beside her, the other combed through the bleached curls, softer than usual from the hair mask she convinced him to do with her earlier in the week. Though her heart ached that she couldn’t give any better of a solution to the way her sweet boy was feeling, she knew something was right by the way he quickly fell asleep, his lips pouted against her leg as he rested. She returned the glass to the side table and carefully picked up her book again, moving slowly so she didn’t disturb the sleeping boy in her lap. However, one hand did stay tucked into his hair as even in his sleep he would start fidgeting some if he couldn’t feel the lazy patterns she drew through the curls.

Later that night, as she finished rinsing their wine glasses from a late dinner, she heard his loud, bright laughter followed by ‘Baby, you gotta come see the costumes Mike and Cal got for the dogs! And bring your laptop, we need to find a pink Power Ranger costume for Petunia!’

She chuckled as she set the last glass down on the drying rack. Yeah, they were gonna be alright.

//

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings blurbs #luke fic #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #yes i did accidentally delete this when i was attempting to change the title and now here we are #i need a nap #srry if this is the second time you're seeing this im just dumb

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up (Pt II)

A/N: Okay, well, my quickly written one-shot has rapidly turned into an MC because I can't get enough of these two adorable idiots.

WC: 1470 | Pt I, or read on AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

Neil was coding.

He was lying in his bed, having a heart attack, and she could hear the machines beeping even though there were no heart monitors in his apartment. His neck was extended against the pillows, arteries popping against his skin as his muscles tensed excruciatingly. His mouth was dropped open in a silent scream.

She was in the kitchen, making pasta for dinner when it happened. She dropped the wooden spoon on the floor, let the water boil over onto the stove, sizzling, and she ran to the bedroom. It seemed like it took an hour to get there, a battle to cover every inch of ground. But then she was standing over him, rolling up her sleeves to do chest compressions and hopefully regulate the pace of his heartbeats.

Except she couldn’t remember the right rhythm.

Was it 5 compressions or 3? There was some song that was supposed to guide her, but all she could think of was Stayin’ Alive and she knew that was wrong. Worst misconception in the world because it was false but it was also a stupidly catchy tune and the second you thought about it every other song on the planet seemed to disappear.

It would have to be close enough.

She folded her fingers together and placed the heels of her hand right over his heart.

Ah ah ah ah stayin’ alive.

The sound of the imaginary monitors was flooding her ears, distracting her. She wanted them to shut up, but she also didn’t because that would mean he was dead. And she was not going to let that happen.

Claire woke up, confused and sweating, tears coating her cheeks. The nightmares were frequent, taking over her subconscious almost every night. Neil had been home for almost a week, and every night he died in her dreams. Except that was exactly what confused her. He died, every night, except tonight. Tonight he was dying, but not dead. Why had she woken up? She never woke up in the middle of a dream.

In her dazed, half asleep state she finally registered the feel of Neil tossing and kicking violently beside her. Oh.

She rolled over, grabbing his face with both of her hands. She really didn’t want to wake him, he needed the rest, but he was going to tear his stitches out and shred his abdomen to pieces if he kept moving like that.

“Neil,” she whispered, trying to wake him gently. Her voice didn’t seem to register with him, and she tried again, louder. “Neil!”

His eyes flipped open dramatically, wide and scared as he searched his surroundings. This was always hard. The two of them having nightmares that they didn’t want to talk about or acknowledge. At night especially, it seemed too scary to give voice to what happened inside their heads, as if that could suddenly make it real.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Claire asked, offering even though she knew the answer was going to be no.

Neil shook his head, staring up at the ceiling with tears building, and he reached out for her hand, holding it tight.

“Tell me something happy,” she demanded, knowing that distraction would be the best way to get the awful thoughts out of his head. She tried to keep her voice light and teasing. “Tell me about your tattoo, I’m dying to hear the story.”

“That’s not happy,” he croaked, his voice broken.

Well, crap. She searched her brain for anything else she could think of to ask him, but she was coming up frustratingly blank.

“About a year before you started at St. Bonaventure,” he said after a few minutes, taking a deep, steadying breath, “my dad passed away. He’d been sick for a long time - MS. He was a very pious man, and deer symbolize communication with God. But he was also stubborn and strong. A stag seemed like a fitting representation.”

Claire propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out to run her hands through his hair and smooth her thumb across his cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had gathered.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she whispered, frowning at him.

“I haven’t been back home since the funeral,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “I talk to my mom at least once a week, and she always comes out here for Christmas and Easter, but I just haven’t been able to go back to that house. There are so many reminders of him there.”

Claire stayed quiet, unable to even imagine what that was like. She’d lost her mom, sure, but her childhood hadn’t been filled with many tangible things, so there wasn’t much that reminded her of her mom. Other than alcohol.

“Where’s home?” she asked, realizing the extent of things they didn’t know about each other. Sure, she’d done all kinds of research on his education and professional background, but looking up his personal history had always seemed like some kind of line that shouldn’t be crossed.

“Phoenix,” he replied, looking at her with a curious expression. “We lived in the same tiny house my whole life. It was nice though. My parents spent pretty much all the money they had to raise their kids in a decent house in a good neighborhood.”

“When you talked to me about my mom…” Claire started, thinking out loud and remembering the night after Angie’s death. “Were you angry at your dad for dying?”

“Yeah,” Neil answered, nodding. “For a long time. He declined treatments, and I tried to get him into every trial I could find, but he wouldn’t do it. So yeah, I was angry at him for not fighting harder. But eventually I stopped being angry and I just missed him.”

Claire nodded next to him. She was still waiting for the anger at her mother to fade completely.

“What’s your mom like?” she asked, changing the topic to something that was hopefully a little bit happier. Hopefully, one day Claire would meet Mrs. Melendez herself, but for now she was more than happy to listen to his stories about her.

“Mamá is a spitfire,” Neil answered, smiling wide. “She wants to take care of everyone all the time and fix every problem. She is so proud of me, and she tells me every time we talk. If she were here, she would probably tell everyone in the hospital embarrassing stories about me as a kid.”

Claire laughed, wondering what exactly Neil’s mother would have to tell.

“She’ll love you,” he said, reaching out to play with her curls. “You guys are two peas in a pod. Kind, smart, witty, beautiful.”

“So you’re saying you’ve got an oedipal complex?” Claire teased, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh yeah, big time,” he quipped sarcastically, reaching out to tickle Claire with the tips of his fingers.

She shrieked in response, curling up into a ball and trying to roll away from him, but he caught her with arms around her waist, fingers still wriggling against her skin. Claire laughed and twisted in Neil’s arms, making him laugh as well, until they were both breathless and he finally ceased the onslaught. Neil pressed kisses to her neck instead, nuzzling his nose against her skin sweetly.

“Hey, you want kids, right?” Claire asked suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “I mean, I heard that was what happened with you and Jessica. I don’t mean to pry, I just wondered…”

“Yeah,” he answered quickly, looking at her quizzically. “Do you?”

He felt his stomach pitch at the realization that her answer might be no. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not want kids someday, but it was entirely possible. Wracking his brain, he knew that he’d never heard her allude to wanting to be a mom. Ever. And after her own experiences with her mom, he could understand it if she had her qualms about it. But Claire nodded with a small shrug.

“Someday,” she said, smiling at him. “You would make a great dad though.”

Neil hummed, burying his face in her shoulder. After being pleasantly distracted from his own nightmares, he was getting sleepy again, and his eyes were drooping closed, eyelashes fluttering against Claire’s skin. She waited until he was asleep, and then grabbed her phone off the nightstand. She opened the app store and immediately began downloading Duolingo. She had never paid much attention until he had been talking about his mother, but the details were registering now, and she was putting the pieces together. Neil spoke Spanish at home, at least sometimes, and she was pretty sure he was going to want his future children to speak Spanish too. So if she wanted that future with him, she better get learning.

Plus, she really wanted to impress his mom.

#the good doctor #neil melendez #claire browne #melendaire #tgd ff #tgd fic #gen writes

[littlesugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Joyous Pride”

Title: Joyous Pride Characters: Clementine, Lee, Violet Summary: In an AU, Lee sees Clementine come home from school one day in a blinding joy. When asked what happened, Clementine confesses to dating her classmate Violet. Author's Note: here’s a cute little one for you guys :) Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

It had been a year since Clementine had entered Lee’s life. It felt sudden, and almost irrational at the time, but to date, adopting Clementine was the best life decision he’d ever made.

Being in foster care had been a nightmare for Clem. After losing her parents in a car crash while they were on vacation, Clementine — like many children moving through tragedy — struggled with adjusting to her new life. It was made all the more difficult thanks to how different she was from the other kids in foster care.

But, when Lee came across Clem outside her home one day, crying after foster kids had routinely tugged at and upset her hair, he felt his heart ache for the child as he assisted her. As days turned into weeks, and as his visits to check on the young girl became more and more frequent, he took her under his wing and signed the adoption papers.

Then, with time, they became inseparable.

Lee cleaned up his small spare room for her, assuring her that she could decorate it however she wanted. He bought her art supplies to keep her busy, and would gently brush through her hair after washing it, treating it as he knew how.

It was the one moment he was thankful to have grown up with several sisters.

“How does it look?” Lee asked, holding a mirror out to her.

Her eyes lit up like stars. “It looks amazing.” She whispered. It hadn’t looked that soft and full in years. Then, Lee knew he had done something right. Something special. He knew she was something special.

He would sweetly make and package her lunches, popping them into paper bags and sweetly walking her — hand-in-hand — to the bus stop.

“Have a good day at school, sweet pea.”

And every day, Clem would smile and say the same thing: “I will.”

In a year's time, growing more into their family role, Clem would plant a single kiss to Lee’s cheek each morning, and Lee would plant one on her forehead. Their conversations never wavered, and her classmates — aware of her situation — never judged. Like her, they found it sweet.

Lee and Clementine were a family to be reckoned with, and had a bond like no-other.

Maybe that was why, when Clementine skittered through the front door of their apartment one day after school, Lee knew that when he asked what happened, she’d tell him.

He smiled, turning from where he was washing dishes, waiting for water to boil on the stove, to study her. “What’s up with you?”

“I had a great day today!” She beamed, tossing her backpack onto the floor and scurrying to her father’s side.

He smiled, passively drying his hands on a nearby dish towel, so he could properly focus on her. “Oh yeah?” He chuckled softly, briefly checking on his boiling water. “What happened today?”

“Something big.”

“And what's that?” Lee asked, his attention fluttering back to her. Without looking, he swiped another dirty dish off the top of the pile, ready to dunk it into the warm, soapy sink.

“I’m dating someone!”

Lee fumbled, dropping the plate in the water. Clem flinched at the sound. “Dating?” He asked, scrambling to try to play off his shock as though it was a simple slip rather than a shocked fumble.

Clementine studied him, confused as to his reaction, but shrugged it off and continued on. “Yes! It just started today.” She beamed, cheeks rosy and bright. Despite his shock, Lee couldn’t help but feel his heart warm up at the sight of the giddy girl. Her happiness gave him a spike of joy he couldn’t get anywhere else.

“Ah,” Lee said, absentmindedly dunking his hands into the sink, but not focusing on it. Instead, his attention was stuck on the girl in front of him. “So, it’s brand brand new.” Lee couldn't help but be on edge; feeling tense rather than excited. He didn’t want his little girl getting hurt. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone hurt her.

Well, he did know what he wanted to do. He just didn’t wanna beat up a kid.

Clementine smiled, nodding. “It was really sweet. She brought me a little flower after school today and asked me, and I said yes! Duh,” Clem giggled, pulling the tiny daisy out of her back pocket, twirling it between her fingers.

Lee paused, set down the soapy glass he was fiddling with, then snagged the drying towel off the counter. “She?” He finally asked.

Clem nodded. “Her name is Violet.”

Lee hesitated, then sighed, leaning into the counter. His eyes closed, his shoulders released, and his body eased. “Thank God.”

Clementine blinked, confused. She hadn’t been expecting this to be his reaction. What a strange roller coaster of emotions. “What?”

Lee took a breath, pushing himself upright. “You’re too young to understand.”

Clementine glared, arms crossed and glare growing. “What does that mean?”

Lee shook his head, focused on vigorously scrubbing the plate in-progress. “It means I’d feel bad telling you what that means.”

Clementine raised a brow, staring him down, as though hoping her ‘menacing stare’ would result in a confession.

Finally, Lee sighed. He held out his hands, as though he was sheepish to make the ‘obvious’ statement. “Men are pigs.”

After a brief, confused pause, she burst into a fit of giggles, her hands cupping her red cheeks, the daisy brushing against her ears and hair. “That's why I chose Violet.”

Lee smiled, turning to her with a soft smile. It complimented her mood perfectly. “I’m happy to hear that, sweet pea.” He leaned forward, tucking the flower behind one of her ears. “I can’t wait to meet her one day.”

Clementine’s eyes lit up, hands clasped together, her entire body emitting energy and light. “I can’t wait for that too.”

Lee chuckled to himself, finally turning back to the stove to work on dinner. “Go wash up for dinner, sweet pea. We can talk more then.”

Then, without a word of debate, Clem grabbed her backpack and darted for her room. Her excited little breaths and frantic footsteps bounced off the wall, giving their home the life it lacked for so many lonely years.

She was growing up so fast and, as Lee tossed pasta into the now-boiling water, he realized just how much had changed in the year he’d been able to call the little girl his. While she maybe wasn’t his little girl anymore, but she would always be his girl. That would never change.

The only thing that would change is that Violet could become one of his girls too. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

#thatglitterygeek fanfictions #the walking dead game the final season #twdg #the walking dead game #the walking dead game season 4 #twdgs4 #twdgtfs #the walking dead game season 1 #twdgs1 #twdg lee #twdg clementine #twdg clem #twdg violet #violentine #violet and clementine #clem and violet #violet and clem #clementine and violet #clementine x violet #clem x violet #violet x clem #violet x clementine #telltale the walking dead game #telltale #telltale the walking dead #telltale games #skybound entertainment #skybound #skybound games

[mamabearcat]

Daddy Inuyasha

This doesn’t really have a title yet; I’ll think of one later! Written for @dangerouspompadour after this morning (or evening’s) conversation about kids needing to be fed every single night. A Papa Yasha story.

---

“You’re only gonna be gone for one night right?”

“Inuyasha, you’ll be fine”, soothed Kagome, stuffing more clothes into her bag. “I’m really sorry to have to leave like this, but Mama sounded so ill on the phone. I just want to check up on her.”

Inuyasha snorted, continuing to walk around the room with Izayoi’s tiny hands held in his, while their toddler squealed in delight, her little feet balanced on his larger ones.

“And Sango has promised that she’ll come pick her up early tomorrow and take her to daycare”, she continued, “so you’ll be able to get off to work in time. You just have to make sure to pick her up by 6pm, otherwise daycare will charge extra.”

“That’s good. And yeah, I can do that.” He had a meeting with an architect for his current construction project at 7.30am tomorrow morning; they’d only spoken on the phone as yet, but the guy already sounded like he had a stick firmly wedged up his arse. 

His head was still swimming a little. Kagome had got off the phone with her mother, booked a flight, texted Sango and then told him she’d be coming home Monday night all in under half an hour. He knew he’d be fine; Kagome did this all the time when he was called away for work. And he adored Izayoi. Maybe it would be fun? Some Daddy daughter time?

A loud beeping sounded outside the door. “Oh, that’s my taxi already”, squeaked Kagome, shoving her feet into her shoes. She picked up Izayoi and gave her a squeezy hug, smothering her round cheeks in raspberry kisses. “Be good for Daddy baby girl. Mama will be home at bedtime tomorrow okay? I’ll call you tonight.”

Inuyasha bent down to kiss his wife before she could run out the door. “Be safe, okay. Text me when you get there. I love you.”

“Love you too.” The horn beeped again loudly, and Kagome rolled her eyes. “I gotta go. Be good you two. I love you!”

They all moved out onto the verhandah, Inuyasha and Izayoi waving as Kagome ran down the path with her bag and climbed into the taxi, shutting the door behind her. All of a sudden Izayoi’s bottom lip trembled and her soft pointed puppy ears lowered. “Mama go?”

Inuyasha squeezed her tightly against him, dropping a soft kiss onto the dark curls between her ears. “Mama is visiting grandma. So it’s just us for a little while Princess. It’s gonna be fun right?”

The taxi drove away.

“I wa-want Mama!” Izayoi’s soft sobs escalated quickly, and the sound of her heartbreak pulled at Inuyasha’s gut. He hated Izayoi’s tears almost as much as Kagome’s.

“Hey, hey, c’mon now. We’re gonna have fun.” He bounced her a little in his arms, racking his brain for something that would take Izayoi’s mind off Kagome for a moment. “Do ya wanna watch Ponies with me for a little while?”

He braced himself for the usual loud squeal of excitement she let out whenever her favourite show was mentioned, but instead she tucked her head under his chin and hid behind the curtain of his long silver hair. He watched as she silently placed her thumb into her mouth, slow tears trickling down her cheeks.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 ---

Eventually Izayoi fell asleep on his lap, and he gratefully changed the channel. There was only so much pink and purple and magic of friendship he could take in one sitting. She’d watched the show with her cousin Rin, and she loved it. Kagome didn’t mind it. Him, not so much.

His stomach grumbled, and he angled his neck to look at the clock on the wall. Shit, it was nearly Izayoi’s dinner time. She usually ate earlier, and he and Kagome ate after she was in bed. When it was his turn to cook for him and Kagome he made steak. Or ramen. Both of those weren’t really toddler friendly. Cooking for Izzy was definitely Kagome’s thing. He though back over recent meals he’d seen Izayoi eat for dinner. Pasta. He was perfectly capable of cooking pasta, and he knew Izayoi liked it. Phew, crisis averted.

 -----

“No!”

Inuyasha was taken aback. As far as he was concerned, he’d cooked a perfectly acceptable dinner for a toddler. Pasta with peas and corn, and some fish fingers he’d dug out of the bottom of the freezer. “Izzy, c’mon, you like pasta. Daddy even cooked the ones that look like little bows!”

“No!” she growled, glaring at the plate in front of her.

“Izayoi!” he barked. He took a deep breath. “What’s wrong with the food on your plate.”

“Don’t like red!”

“Red?” And then it hit him. Kagome usually served Izayoi’s pasta with pesto, not tomato sauce. “Uh, we were all out of green. Why don’t you try it Princess, it’s yummy. Look, Daddy will eat some.” He picked up her tiny fork and took a mouthful of pasta. Not his favourite thing in the world, but perfectly fine.

Izayoi’s eyes looked like they were filling with tears again. Oh boy. His mind whirled frantically, trying to avert the tears.

“Hey, do ya know what else you can call fish fingers? Dippy sticks! Look!” He picked up a fish finger and poked it in the napoletana pasta sauce, then took a bite. “Mmm, dippy sticks, my favourite!” He made sure to scrunch up his eyes and twitch his ears for her, and his heart swelled in relief at the tiny giggle.

“I know, let’s have a race and see who can eat their dippy stick the fastest? I bet I can eat mine faster than you Izzy! Ready…”

“Steddygo”, squealed Izayoi, clutching a fish finger in her little fist and mashing it into the sauce. She took a mouthful and smiled at him. “Yummy Daddy!” She eventually ate most of her dinner, leaving the peas. Inuyasha couldn’t blame her, he didn’t think much of peas either. It was his job to put green things on her plate, he wasn’t going to force feed them to her if she didn’t want to eat them.

He scraped the peas into the bin and dumped the dirty plate in the sink, then piggybacked her to the bathroom. “Bath time for my princess. Do ya want bubbles?”

“Yeah!” She threw her arms out as wide as she could. “Lots and lots!” He chuckled.

“Okay squirt, you got it. Toilet first while Daddy runs the bath. You need help getting those shorts off?” he asked, pointing to the button and zipper.

She shook her head. “Nu uh. I a big girl.”

Just for a second, his eyes misted over, remembering the day she was born only three short years ago. One of the happiest days of his life.

“Do you think you could slow down the growing for me just a smidge, Princess?” he asked, watching as she flushed the toilet all by herself and then managed to finish undressing without help. The tiny underpants were a new thing that she was very proud of, because Mama had told her only big girls got to wear them, and she stroked them lovingly as she put her dirty clothes in the hamper. He snorted when he noticed they had purple and pink ponies on them.

She shook her head and stood on her tiptoes with her arms raised up high, grinning cheekily at him. “I bigger than Daddy!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Aw, that’s a shame, I guess you’re too big for me to do…. This!” And he picked her up and blew a huge raspberry on her stomach, then dropped her into the bubbles as she squealed with laughter.

When she was squeaky clean, and Inuyasha had been decorated with a variety of bubble beards and bubble hats, he helped her into her thicker overnight underpants and PJ’s, and snuggled her into her little bed with her favourite white dog toy tucked into her elbow.

“Story and song!” Izayoi demanded.

Inuyasha cringed a little. He’d forgotten about the song part of the bedtime routine. Kagome had a variety of songs she sang, and her voice was pleasant and mellow, perfect for lullabies. His, not so much. “Uh, I’ll do you a deal. How ‘bout, Daddy reads you a story, and we call Mama and she can sing you a song over the phone. How’s that.”

Izayoi blinked at him slowly. “Okay”, she said finally, with a skeptical look on her face, like he was trying to renege on a deal.

“Which story do ya want Princess. Eggs and ham? The one with the baby and the lion?”

“Witch and cat!”

“Room on the Broom it is then!” He grinned, because he liked doing the voices for this one, especially the dragon. He was halfway into the book when she crawled out of bed and into his lap.

“I am a dragon, as mean as can be, and I’m planning to have WITCH and CHIPS for my tea!” Inuyasha growled.

Izayoi clutched onto his shirt. “Dragon scary!”

Whoops. Maybe he’d gotten a little too into it this time. “Hey, it’s okay. We know the witch is gonna be fine because all her friends are gonna scare him away. He’s just a big scaredy dragon!”

Izayoi nodded, the soft pointed ears on top of her head flicking sleepily. She popped her thumb into her mouth as he finished the story, snuggling against him. By the time he was finished, her eyes were blinking slowly. He put the book back on the shelf and tucked her back into her little bed.

“Song”, she whispered.

“One song, comin’ right up.” He fished his mobile out of his back pocket and called Kagome. “Hi love. I have one sleepy princess requesting a bedtime song.”

“What. You’re not going to sing one?” she giggled.

“I think we both know that my talents in the bedroom lie in other areas.” She snort laughed and he grinned. “I’m putting you on speaker.”

Kagome’s soft voice cooed into the bedroom, and both Inuyasha and Izayoi sighed, ears twitching. “Hey little pup. What song do you want Mama to sing for you sweetheart?”

“Mama!” Izayoi said sleepily, her ears twitching towards the phone. “Love you Mama. Train whistle.”

Kagome laughed softly. “I love you too baby. Okay, are you listening?”

Izayoi nodded, and Inuyasha said softly, “Yep, she’s ready.”

Train whistle blowin' Makes a sleepy noise Underneath the blankets For all the girls and boys

Rockin' rollin' ridin' Out along the bay All bound for Morningtown Many miles away

“She’s asleep”, whispered Inuyasha softly, taking the phone off speaker and backing slowly out of the room. He sat down with a thump on the sofa. “How’s Mama?”

“They did some blood tests at the hospital, and apparently she’s really low in iron. They gave her a blood transfusion and she has an appointment to see a heamatologist next week.”

“Shit. Do they know why?”

Kagome sighed. “You know what she’s like. I doubt she’s been looking after herself properly, now that she doesn’t have Grandpa to look after. I was hoping now that she’d retired from the shrine that she’d do things that she loved to do, but I don’t think she’s doing that well Inuyasha.” Kagome’s voice sounded a little wobbly.

Inuyasha swallowed. He adored Kagome’s mother. He’d been a brash belligerent teenager when he’d first started going out with Kagome in senior highschool, and Kagome’s mother had seen it for the front that it was. Kagome had known that he was hurting after the sudden death of his parents in a car accident, and so had she. It was a situation the Higurashi’s were all too familiar with, after the loss of Kagome’s father.

Mama had refused to allow him to push her away, even though shrine families weren’t usually accepting of demons, and had loved him like a son. No one had been happier for them when he and Kagome had decided to get married. He loved her almost as much as he’d loved his own mother. He pictured the once bright eyed, busy woman sitting by herself in a small apartment. She was probably so lonely.

“Kagome. Do ya think she’d live with us? I mean, if she wanted, I could even build her a little house in the back yard. Then it wouldn’t be like she was livin’ in our back pocket. She could visit us when she wanted, and we’d be close by if she needed us. And Izzy would get to see her every day.” Kagome’s quiet sob on the other end of the line startled him. “Hey love, you okay?”

“I’m fine”, she sniffed. “I… I’m gonna ask her, okay?”

“Don’t cry! Dammit, I didn’t suggest it to make you cry, I thought it would make you happy! If she’s not lookin’ after herself, I want her to be closer!”

Kagome giggled. “I’m not really crying, I’m just… you are an amazing husband, do you know that?”

“Shut up.”

“You are! And an amazing Dad. How did dinner go?”

“I stuffed up a bit. Made her pasta with red sauce instead of pesto. But she ate most of it.”

“Good job Daddy.”

He could practically see the beaming smile on Kagome’s face on the other end of the line and he sighed. “I miss you Kagome.”

“I miss you too. Only one night, and then I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you bring Mama too, if she’ll come. We could probably get her an appointment here, couldn’t we?”

“I’ll ask her. You know how stubborn she can be some times.”

“Yeah”, he chuckled, “I know. I got two stubborn reminders that live in the same house as me.”

“Hey!” He heard a soft voice in the background. “Okay Mama, be there in just a moment.”

Inuyasha sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Do you want us to pick you up at the airport?”

“No, it’s okay – it’s usually crazy at that time of night, and it’s too close to Izzy’s bedtime. I’ll just catch a taxi. Good luck with that meeting tomorrow.”

“Thanks”, he snorted. “Can’t say I’m lookin’ forward to it. Guy sounds like a first class prat.”

“Just… hold your temper”, Kagome soothed. “Bottle it up, and you can grump about him to me when I get home.”

“Oh no. I got other plans for you when you get home.”

“Oh really?”

Inuyasha lowered his voice to a rough purr. “Maybe I can get you to sing a bedtime song for me. Last time I went down on you I’m pretty sure you hit a few soprano notes”, he grinned.

“Shut. Up!”

“You love it.”

“You just wait until I get home mister! No mercy!” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry hon, I gotta go, Mama’s calling. Love you.”

“Sweet dreams, sweet cheeks.”

Inuyasha ended the call despondently. The house just seemed empty without Kagome in it. He traipsed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, then shut it again. He looked in the cupboard, and there was one packet of ramen left on the top shelf. He couldn’t be bothered cooking anything else.

He slumped down on the sofa, clicking through the channels and then snorted in disgust, turning off the tv and his attention to his dinner instead. He may as well go to bed early without Kagome here, just in case Izayoi woke up during the night.

He dumped the plate in the sink and went and had a quick shower, groaning as he wondered if Kagome was in the shower at the same time as him, picturing her generous curves soaped up under swiftly falling water. Gods, he was pathetic. It wasn’t like they had sex every night, but now she wasn’t here, he missed her presence like a physical ache. He was away for work sometimes, true, but it seemed different somehow, when she wasn’t home and he was.

He dried himself off quickly, pulling on his soft grey sleep shorts and falling into the bed that seemed way too big without Kagome in it. He went over his meeting plans in his head, staring at the ceiling, wishing his wife was curled up next to him.

---

“MAAAAMAAAAA!” The high pitched scream had him bolting upright, and he flung himself out of bed, bashing his shoulder on the door frame as he careened down the hallway towards Izayoi’s room.

He kneeled down next to her bed. Her tear filled eyes were easily visible in the soft glow of the night light, and shuddering sobs shook her little body. “A Mons-ster!” she sobbed, trying to get her little arms free of the quilt. “Want Mama!”

“Hey baby, it’s okay, it was just a bad dream”, he soothed, stroking the sweaty hair back from her forhead. “There’s no monster here.”

“He ate Mama!” she sobbed, launching herself at Inuyasha. “Mama gone!” Her hiccuping sobs pulled at his heartstrings, and he picked her up, cradling her against his chest so that she could hear the solid beat of his heart.

“No monster”, he repeated firmly, as he carried her down the hallway towards his and Kagome’s bedroom. “Mama went to visit Grandma, and she’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yup. Sango will take you to daycare tomorrow, then Daddy will pick you up, and by the time you’ve had dinner and bath, Mama will be home again. I promise Princess.”

“Pinkie promise?”

It was a concept he had only recently educated in, but he nodded solemnly, viewing it as the sacred pact it was. “Pinkie promise”, he said, hooking his larger pinky finger around her smaller one.

His sleepy brain engaged a little more, and he walked them back towards the bathroom. “You wanna try goin’ to the toilet before you hop into Mama and my bed?”

“Okay.” She stood sleepily in front of the toilet and gazed at him without moving, so he turned her around and helped her pull down her PJ pants and underpants and plonked her on the toilet. He waited silently for a minute, then looked down to notice she was actually asleep sitting up. Chuckling as he fixed her clothes and picked her up again, he padded silently back to his bedroom, carefully placing her on Kagome’s side, hoping her scent on the pillow would help Izzy sleep.

He gazed at his little girl as she sprawled herself out like a starfish, her nose and ears twitching for a moment before she settled back into a deeper sleep. There was a time when he’d thought he’d never want children, because life had seemed to be determined to keep him alone. And then he’d found Kagome, or rather, Kagome had found him, bossing her way into his life and not taking no for an answer. And now they had this beautiful child together. His princess. He dropped a soft kiss onto the dark hair between her pointed ears and then settled back down to sleep himself.

 ---

“Daaaaadddyyyyyy!”

Inuyasha grunted as he felt the full weight of a solid three year old landing directly on his bladder. He opened one sleepy eye. “Yeah?”

“The door!”

“Fuu—iretruck!” he groaned, leaping out of bed at the sound of knocking on the front door. Had he slept in? Nope, 6.45am. He usually got up at 7. He opened the front door a crack, poking his head through. “Yeah?”

“It’s just us!” grinned a smiling Sango, holding Shinzu on her hip. “Miroku’s going to drop off the girls at school, so I thought I’d come over a little early and help you get Izzy ready for daycare.”

“Uh, okay?” said Inuyasha with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kagome texted me and told me you had an early meeting. Did I get it wrong?” She laughed at the suddenly panicked face Inuyasha made as he opened the door wide to let her in. “I take it you do have an early meeting?”

She stepped inside, then grinned teasingly at Inuyasha, pointing at his sleep shorts. “Is this a really informal meeting? Because I don’t think those are going to cut it.”

“Shut up”, he growled.

Izayoi ran towards Sango and hugged her legs. “Saaaango! Baby Shiiizuuuu!”

Sango ruffled the dark hair on Izayoi’s head, being careful of her pointed puppy ears. “Hey Izzy – you had breakfast yet?”

“No. Daddy asleep.” She held her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Daddy snores!” She stuck her fingers in her ears as if to emphasise how loud it had been.

“Way to rat me out kiddo”, muttered Inuyasha, raising an eyebrow at her. Izayoi hid behind Sango’s leg, then giggled some more.

“Go get ready Inuyasha, I’ll get Izzy off to daycare. I’m pretty sure I know where everything is.”

Inuyasha jogged towards the bathroom, then paused. “Thanks Sango, I really appreciate this.”

“Enough to babysit and give me and Miroku a night out?” she asked with a hopeful air.

Inuyasha thought for a moment about wrangling the twins, Shinzu and and Izayoi combined, then shrugged. “I’ll talk it over with Kagome, but yeah, sure.”

“Done. Stop talking and go get ready!”

He was back twenty minutes later in his business clothes, long hair neatly braided and the tie he only wore for meetings with clients already choking him. Izayoi was seated at the table, happily eating yoghurt and fruit. He dropped a kiss on her head. “Be good today Izzy. I’ll be there to pick you up from daycare, okay?”

“Okay, bye bye”, she said happily, making a funny face at Shinzu so the baby squealed in delight.

Inuyasha rushed out the door. “See you later Sango! And thanks!”

“You’re welcome!” she sang out, her voice punctuated by the loud slam of the front door.

 --- 

Inuyasha growled as he gripped the steering wheel, glancing again at the clock on the dash. 5.55pm. He’d already called ahead to tell the daycare director that he was stuck in traffic and should be there soon, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

The whole day had been a write off – filled with pointless meetings with pencil pushers and government know-it-alls that wouldn’t know good construction timeframes if they bit them on the arse. And thanks to them, he was late picking up his daughter, the very first time he’d been asked to do it. Shit.

It took another five minutes to find a parking spot, and he ran the rest of the way. The lights in the centre were off, but he knocked on the door, bouncing nervously, and a smiling lady let him in.

“Izayoi’s in the director’s office doing some colouring – right this way.”

“I am so sorry”, he panted, and the lady smiled at him, holding up a hand.

“It’s okay, you called and let us know what was happening. We let Izayoi know you’d be a little late, and she seemed fine. These things happen.”

Inuyasha poked his head around the office door. “Izzy?”

“Daaaadddy!” She vaulted herself into his arms, and he picked her up, giving her a squeezy hug.

“I’m sorry I was late baby. The car got stuck in traffic on the way here.”

Her bottom lip trembled a little. “Everyone gone home.”

“All the other kids have gone home?” She nodded. “I’m sorry you were the last one here Izzy.” Inuyasha turned his head towards the director. “I really am sorry for my lateness. I got caught up in meetings at work, and didn’t leave early enough to avoid the traffic.”

“That’s quite alright Mr. Takahashi. These things happen”, the director said, making a shooing motion with her hands.

They stopped to get Izayoi’s little backpack, then walked out of the centre.

“You know what?” said Inuyasha, swinging Izayoi’s little hand as they walked side by side towards the car. “Daddy had a grumpy day. And do you know what would cheer me up?”

Izayoi’s ears pricked up hopefully, and her eyes widened. “Ice-cream?!”

“Ice-cream”, he agreed, nodding seriously. “Should we eat it in a cone, or get some to take home?”

“Cone!” squeaked Izayoi, almost dancing on the spot.

Pretty soon they were sitting in an ice-cream parlour, Izzy with a small vanilla cone, napkin tucked into her shirt to save it from the drips, and Inuyasha with a towering triple scoop waffle cone monstrosity with extra fudge. Izayoi sighed happily as she licked, not quite fast enough to stop it dripping down her arm.

“I sticky.”

“Gotta keep licking!” said Inuyasha, turning her cone to the other side so she could lick the drips. If Kagome were here, she’d produce some of those wet wipes that seemed to fix a multitude of problems. Inuyasha snagged a couple more paper napkins from the paper dispenser and wrapped them around Izayoi’s little wrist, tucking the ends in. “There, that might help a little.”

“A bracelet! Thank you Daddy!”

Inuyasha snorted. “Glad to see my Princess is so easily pleased by paper jewellery. Keep licking Izzy, or it’ll fall.”

Once the ice-cream was eaten, it was time to go home. There was a short argument about keeping the soggy napkin bracelet, but after Inuyasha had promised to replace it with a real one when it was her birthday, she finally stopped stomping her small foot, and smiled. Crisis averted.

 ---

Inuyasha felt slightly guilty when he realised that Sango had done the washing up for him. Whoops. Oh well.

“You wanna help me make dinner Izzy?” he asked, hoping that would ward off any dinnertime disputes.

“Yeah!” She was rubbing her eyes a little sleepily, so he knew it would have to be something quick.

“How about boiled egg on toast?”

Izayoi looked at him quizzically, and Inuyasha remembered it was something she usually only ate for breakfast.

“It’s been a topsy turvy day. Let’s have breakfast for dinner!”

Izayoi snorted then giggled. “Silly Daddy!”

“Hey, it’s okay to be silly sometimes. Let’s boil an egg!” He let Izayoi pick an egg from the carton, then helped her place it carefully into the cold water in the saucepan. They put a slice of bread in the toaster, and she pushed down the lever herself, and then looked at him proudly.

“My princess is getting to be such a big girl!”

She nodded excitedly, then yawned.

Inuyasha buttered the toast and fished the egg out of the saucepan, peeling off the shell quickly and mashing it onto the toast.

“You want fingers or a squash sandwich?”

“Squash.” Her eyes blinked sleepily. He’d cut it pretty fine by taking her out for ice-cream; it was just about her bedtime now. Inuyasha picked her up and put her on her seat at the table. He folded the toast over carefully, making it like half a sandwich.

“Just eat a few bites princess, and then you can have a quick bath, okay?”

Izayoi nodded sleepily, then munched her way through the middle of the sandwich leaving all the crust.

“All done? Let’s go take that bath.” He ran a small bath, and washed her quickly; the fact that she wasn’t wanting to play told him exactly how tired she was. He lifted her out of the water and she stood on the bathmat as he rubbed her dry.

“Where Mama?”

Shit. Kagome had texted him that her plane had been a little delayed and she was just getting in a taxi, hopefully she would be home any minute.

“She’ll be here soon, Princess. How about Daddy will keep reading stories until she gets home?”

The bottom lip trembled a little. “Want Mama.”

Inuyasha helped her into her night time underpants and pj’s. “She’ll be here soon baby. Let’s go read those stories, okay?”

“Want Mama.”

Her little nose rubbed against his neck, ears flicking against his chin, and he felt a few warm tears slide down. Shit. C’mon Kagome. He carried Izayoi down to her bedroom, but instead of sitting on the chair, he sat down on her bed with her still cradled in his lap. She stayed curled up, her little thumb firmly in her mouth.

“Sad.”

“You’re feelin’ sad, cause Mama isn’t home yet?” Little nod. “I miss her too when she’s away. I love you and your Mama sooo much. All the way to the moon and back.”

“Moon story.”

“Goodnight Moon?” Izayoi shook her head.

“Rabbit.”

“Sorry kiddo, you’re gonna have to give me more than that. There’s a rabbit and a moon in the story?”

“Big Rabbit. Daddy Rabbit. And Little Rabbit. Izayoi Rabbit.” Inuyasha heart swelled and he dropped a kiss to her head. She was worse at tugging on his heartstrings than Kagome. Or better. Probably both.

“I think I know the one ya mean.” He reached over to her little bookcase carefully, and got a small battered boardbook. The first book they’d ever bought her, when she was still in Kagome’s womb. They’d bought it on the way home from the hospital after the ultrasound at twenty weeks. There were still little teeth marks around the edges where she’d bitten it as a baby.

“Guess how much I love you”, he began. A key clicked in the front door lock, and Kagome’s voice called out.

“Helloooo, I’m hoooome.”

“We’re in Izzy’s room”, he called out quietly, turning the page. “Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare’s very long ears.”

Kagome walked quietly into the room, leaning down to kiss Izayoi’s cheek.

“Mama”, Izayoi sighed sleepily.

“You want Mama to finish the story for ya Izzy?” asked Inuyasha. She shook her head.

“Daddy Rabbit.”

Kagome smiled at them both, and sat down on the chair. “I’ll listen too, if that’s okay.” She stroked Izayoi’s hair as Inuyasha read, and the little eyes drifted closed as he finished the last page.

Inuyasha rumbled a pleased sound through his chest. He couldn’t help it. Kagome was home, Izayoi was asleep and no longer sad. All was right in his world.

“Need some help escaping?” Kagome smiled. She helped lift Izayoi up gently so Inuyasha could slide out from underneath her, and Kagome pulled the quilt up over her, tucking her dog toy into her arms, and kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Izzy.”

They tiptoed out of the little bedroom, and back down the hallway. Inuyasha picked up Kagome’s suitcase and carried it to their bedroom, Kagome following behind him.

“Mama didn’t want to come with you?”

“No. She was very definite about seeing the specialist there. Souta is taking the day off to go with her.”

“What did she say about our idea?”

“I think she might say yes. She’s thinking about it at the moment, but the idea of seeing Izzy everyday was very appealing”, smiled Kagome. She curled her arms around Inuyasha’s neck and hugged him tight. “I missed you so much! Did everything go okay with Izzy while I was away?”

“Pretty much. She missed you a lot. I did too.” His hands drifted down her back and over her bottom cheeks, suddenly wrapping around her thighs and lifting her up, snorting in laughter at her sudden yelp of surprise.

“We still haven’t finished the bedtime routine Ka-go-me”, he purred, walking over to their bedroom door and closing it firmly. “You owe me a song.”

#inuyasha fanfic #inukag fanfic #inuyasha family #papayasha #daddy inuyasha #pure fluff #Bearpluscat fanfics

[oyesmendes]

love is...

a/n: everything i dreamed of with the right person. this is a WIP that i’ll be adding onto whenever i have new ideas!! just bc love is alot of things and there are many concepts that i adore. ❤️

love is walking your dog on a Saturday morning no matter how tired you are.

There was no explanation as to how Luke and Quinn fell in love with one another, it just happened. They were like two peas in a pod, puzzle pieces that fit perfectly with one another. Maybe they had their dogs to thank, but neither of them would ever admit that.

The pair met each other on a Saturday morning, where Luke was dragging Petunia on a walk while Quinn was being dragged by Bowie. The park was quiet seeing that it was only 8AM, but Quinn had to get the energy out of Bowie or she’d never have a moment of peace during the day. Luke and Petunia on the other hand, they didn’t have a reason to be at the park but up till today, Luke was thankful that he was.

“Oh come on Bowie, don’t shove your face into her ass” Quinn tugged on the leash, pulling her German Shepard towards her.

“S’alright, I don’t think she’d mind having a new friend. Isn’t that right, Petunia.” Luke cupped the face of his dog, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Quinn smiled at him, then releasing the tug that she had on Bowie. He ruffled the top of Bowie’s head, earning a bunch of kisses from the large dog.

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Quinn.” They shook hands like normal strangers but it was no doubt that they noticed the beauty of the other person - Quinn saw the way Luke’s eyes shone under the light, and he saw how Quinn’s smile was brighter than the sun. They let both their dogs off the leash, allowing them to get to know each other as their parents interacted. Little did any of them know that the two dogs would become best friends, just like their parents did.

It’s like the warmth of the sun rays hitting your skin

They were out on a hike again, this time without their dogs. The afternoon sun beating down on the pair mercilessly as they hiked uphill. Her hand was intertwined with his, the skin to skin contact was sweaty, but comforting. It had only been three months since they started going out with each other, a month since they shared their first ‘I love you’ and two weeks since she met his best friends. Everything seemed to be going at top speed, but it all felt right to Luke, like things had fallen into place and he was finally seeing light again. Quinn enjoyed these moments with him as well, getting to know Luke for who he was off-stage, as a normal human being.

It took them three hours to reach the end of the trail, the magnificent view of LA right below their feet. Luke had his hand around her shoulder, Quinn’s arms wrapped around his waist as they took in the sight. They always stood like this at the end of their hikes - just to take in the view and bask in the sun. They talked about their lives while they hiked, what they had missed before they found each other. Quinn told him about her massive family, her boring 9 to 5 job, her favourite food, and anything she could think of. Luke told her about his extraordinary job as a musician, the travelling and his bandmates who he called his brothers.

They’d drive to either of their homes, dogs bounding at them when they entered. Quinn would dance while she cooked, and Luke would hum softly to the tunes while admiring his girl. They would kiss more than cook, often times causing a scene with their food.

“Luke! The pasta!” Water was overflowing out of the pot due to their lack of attention to it. She’d panic but Luke would laugh it off, saying how they should order takeout the next time. Though throughout the rest of their relationship, no one ever recalled them ordering takeout. 

It is midnight driving with no destination

“You sure we should leave the dogs alone at this hour?” Quinn questioned as she put on her sneakers, Luke grabbing both their jackets in his hand.

“They’d be fine, they’re both well trained. Besides, they’re probably tired out after hanging out with each other the entire day.” Quinn still had her worries, but she wouldn’t pass off an opportunity to be with \ Luke, so off they went. They were driving on the somewhat quiet streets of Downtown LA, no destination in mind. Just soft music playing and talking about the little things in life. Quinn had a bag of McDonalds on her lap, feeding fries to Luke two at a time as he drove onto a street that up to the hills. He stopped at a random parking lot, one with a view of the skyline and they both got out of the car to sit on the hood. She was snuggled in his arms, fries and chicken nuggets devoured a long time ago.

“Quinn?” She hummed in response.

“Do you want to get married?” He looked down at her. Her head was resting on his chest, a soft smile graced her lips.

“Are you proposing right now?”

“No, but I would like to in the near future.” She sat up so her eyes met his. He watched as her hands grazed his cheeks, across his lips and along his jaw before she leaned in to press her soft lips against his. She smiled into the kiss, just like always because it felt good, she felt happy.

“I would love to marry you, Luke Hemmings.”

But love is also ugly

“Don’t you dare put this on me, Quinn.”

“Put this on you? Fuck, who was the one who walked into the house all somber and moody? Who was the one that snapped at me when all I did was ask how you were?” He could see the fire in Quinn’s eyes, the anger bubbling in her chest.

“I don’t need you breathing down my neck every second of the day!”

“I’m not doing that!”

“Fuck!” Luke swiped his hands across the kitchen island, throwing the beer bottle to the floor. Quinn’s eyes widened as she took a step back, wrapping her arms around her torso. The dinner she spent the afternoon cooking was now long forgotten, sitting ice cold on the dining table. She looked at Luke who had his hands gripping the counter top so tightly, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathed. Quinn put her hand atop Luke’s, stroking it softly. She already had her keys in her pocket, hoodie over her T-shirt and Bowie’s leash in her hand.

"I-I should go."

"Don't." Luke said barely over a whisper.

And you have to realise, it’s not always 50/50.

Quinn approaches him slowly, hand resting on his back. She hears him sob, tears dripping onto the counter top. Her touch brings him back to reality, pulls him out of those thoughts and his grip loosens from the table. She takes this chance to move him so his body faces hers.

"Don't go" He chokes out. Quinn could feel her heart physically break from the sound of his words. She cups his face in her hands so their eyes meet.

"Okay, I'm not leaving. I'm here." He leans his head on her shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. She tries to take as much of his 6’3” body into her tiny frame, rubbing circles on his back. She lets him cry his heart out, and babble incoherent words.  

"I just want to love you in the way you deserve." Luke pulls away first, wiping the tears that stained his cheeks.

"Baby, you are doing that. You’ve always done that.”

"No, not on days like this. I can't give you what you deserve when I'm like this." His head is now hung low, back pressed to the kitchen sink behind him. She approaches him, hands intertwined with his. Quinn kisses his knuckles softly and brings his hands to her chest.

“You can, and you always have. Lu, you’ve given me your everything the past eight months we’ve been together. You’re human and it’s impossible to always give me the same amount of affection and love every day, you need to understand that. This is life - we give, we take and somewhere along the way we might lose some; but that doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Through it all, love is crazy and it works, especially between the right people.

Quinn bounces on her feet as she’s stood in the arrival hall of the airport, a huge sign in her hand that reads ‘I’m looking for Quinn Barker’s Boyfriend!’ In neon yellow against a black background. She spots his tall figure a mile away, head of curls hidden under a hoodie with his large suitcases in tow. He was too engrossed in a conversation with Michael that he nearly misses her. Thankfully, his brothers had long noticed her striking sign, a smirk forming on their face once Luke noticed her.

It felt like a scene from the movies when his eyes locked with hers. She was running towards him and he opened his arms for her to crash straight into him. Tears of joy filled both their eyes, finally being able to hold the other person after being apart for six months. Quinn grinned as she pulled away, reaching into her jacket pocket to take out a black velvet box.

“I have something for you.” She mumbles. Luke looks at her in surprise - is that box what he thinks it is? She opens it, and in it holds two gold rings. His smile grew even wider and her face was starting to hurt from the permanent grin on her face as well.

“You made me wait too damn long, Lu. So I’m gonna ask you - will you marry me?” He kisses her passionately at her words, murmuring a ‘yes’ as their lips moved. Luke picks her up from the floor to spin her around. Quinn squeals as her feet lifts off the ground, laughing and smiling like the idiot that she is. When he puts her down, she takes his ring and slips it on for him as he does for her.

“You’re crazy, future Mrs Hemmings.”

“Crazy for you, my love.”

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 second of summer imagines #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford #michael clifford fic #michael clifford imagines #calum hood #calum hood fics #calum hood imagines #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin imagine

[sarah-snook]

Prompt: you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day

Pairing: Stanpat

↳ Requested by: @kaymcgivemeacall

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!!!!! I hope you like this!💖

=====

Patty hummed as she stirred the pot of freshly made soup in front of her, closing her eyes as the aroma of the soup flood her senses. Today, she had opted for a simple chicken noodle recipe. She began to laugh when she felt her stomach rumble, realizing that she hadn’t eaten lunch yet. Checking her watch, she was surprised to see that it was almost two in the afternoon. 

“I wonder if he’s here yet…” Thoughts of eating lunch were forgotten as her mind began to think of one of her regular customers- Stanley.

She hurried to turn everything off, tidying up the area around her before making her way out of the kitchen and into the front of the cafe. Looking around, Patty smiled when she saw a familiar head of curly, brown hair. He was reading a book, so enthralled in it that he didn’t even notice as she walked over and stood beside him.

“What are you reading?” She asked as she bent slightly to peer over his shoulder.

Stan jumped in surprise, almost knocking over his cup of coffee with his book. He looked over at her with red cheeks and wide eyes and Patty couldn’t help but laugh. She covered her mouth with her hand, attempting to stifle the laughter. ‘Cute’ she thought to herself as she said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“I-It’s ok…” Stan said as he looked away from Patty, attempting to hide the blush taking over his face.

Patty stood there for a moment, the silence beginning to make things a little awkward. She took the seat next to him, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she looked him over. Dressed in a perfectly pressed collared shirt and hair neatly styled, he was as handsome as always. Patty had been crushing on Stan since the first time he stepped foot in her cafe. It wasn’t just his looks either, she loved his personality, how polite he was. She especially loved the way he would go crazy over her cooking.

Sure, everyone always raved about her cooking, that was nothing new. Patty’s cafe had been in several magazines and TV shows, even won a couple of awards here and there. None of that mattered to her. Not after she’d seen Stan’s beautiful smile as he ate her soup of the day. That day it had been a simple pea soup. One she had tried to pretty up and make more appealing. She hadn’t thought it was anything worth raving about, but he had. 

Since then, much to Patty’s delight, he would come in at the same time every week and order the soup of the day, not bothering to ask what it was. She smiled at the memory, before clearing her throat to get Stan’s attention. “Do you want your usual?”

Stan’s eyes lit up, that dazzling smile she loved so much gracing his lips as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to see what you’ve prepared this week.”

“Don’t get too excited,” she warned him as she stood up. “It’s just a simple chicken noodle soup.”

“Simple?” Stan scoffed as he rolled his eyes at her. “There’s nothing simple about any of your recipes. I bet you twenty bucks that you even used the fancy spiral noodles.”

“You mean rotini?” Patty giggled as she continued, “Listen, I won’t take that bet. I can’t in good conscience take your money. And actually, I used penne pasta today.”

Stan gave her a soft smile at this, one that made her stomach feel like a bunch of butterflies were fluttering around in there. “Well then, what if I take you out on a date instead? You can teach me all about the different types of pastas you use.”

Patty gasped, staring at him with wide eyes. Was this really happening? Had Stan really just asked her out on a date? As she was trying to hold her internal freak out at bay long enough to answer him, her stomach began to growl. She slapped a hand to her stomach, shushing it without thinking, something she regretted doing once she heard Stan laughing softly next to her.

“I’ll take you up on that date.” She said as she tried to act more confident than she really felt. “As long as we do it right now because, as my stomach has so eloquently pointed out, I’m starving.”

===== Perma tag list:

​@andaleduardo​ @anellope​ @appojoos​ @billdebnrough @bowersgangvslosersclub​ @capnophobia @constantreaderfool​ @eddiecare @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @eddiekasbpark​​ @eduardoandale​ @finelinedwalls @jawnlawk @jem-carstairs-is-perfection​ @jesusrichie @kasp-brakz​ @kitty-cat791 @kkaspbrak @last-an-eon @lifesucksheres20bucks @loverboy-kaspbrak @madi-personal​ @marsisaplanetyall​ @michelllejones​ @montconde @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @pink-psychic @playwiththeflowersofmysoul​ @powered-by-notes @purplepoisonedgem​ @reddieways @reddie-to-cryy​​ @richiesmp3 @richietoizer​ @s-s-georgie @spacechick666-420​ @taylor-trashmouth @ticomat​ @tinyarmedtrex​ @tozierpunks​ @tozierking @tozierwho @trashmouthnick @tyrror​ @vailann @vanesssia​ @violetreddie @vipertooth @willelbyers @xandertheundead (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

#stanpat #stanley uris #patty blum #stanpat fic #dianawritesfic #birthday gift for the lovely sam <3

[n0-eyedtaissa]

6. “I told you not to trust me in the kitchen! Now it’s going to reek of pasta sauce forever.” Ruthie and Sweet pea

When Ruthie calls him on the phone late that afternoon, Sweet Pea answers on the second ring. Ruthie wasn’t one to call unless there was a problem, she was more apt to send a quick text that Sweet Pea knew he wasn’t necessarily obliged to respond to. He pressed his ear to the phone cautiously, a bubble of anxiety forming in the base of this throat before he can even croak out a measly “Hello?” 

“Hey I’m running a little behind schedule, gonna be home later than I thought. All of the ingredients for dinner are in the fridge and on the counter, can I trust you to get things started for me?” Ruthie doesn’t even bother greeting her brother, she’s too busy checking on ICU patients and fielding calls from the advice hotline now that everyone in town thought they had contracted the virus. 

Sweet Pea’s anxiety is eased only slightly, now that he knew no one was dying or injured, he could move onto bigger problems like dinner that evening. “Yeah I can do that for you, how hard can it be?” He questions, trying to instill a false sense of confidence. 

On the other line, Ruthie chuckles. Her voice sounds far away when she speaks into the phone, like she was going down one of the long, eerie hallways of the Riverdale General Hospital. “How hard can it be? You tell me, kid, you’d live off cereal and toast if you could”  

It wasn’t that Sweet Pea couldn’t cook, he’d watched the people around him enough where he could comfortably make his way around a kitchen or a barbecue, the problem was that Sweet Pea was clumsy (which can be very dangerous when you're in the kitchen or in front of a barbecue). He’d blame it on his height most times, claiming that his center of gravity was off and that was why he was so prone to dropping glasses and shattering them, or that his stature excused all the noise he managed to make in the kitchen. 

The problem was that when Sweet Pea wanted to make something for himself, there were so many things that needed his attention that he couldn’t give his full focus to all of the tasks in front of him. And his half-attentions were often hazardous, which was how he saw himself getting into his current predicament: 

Sweet Pea was so busy trying to brown the meatballs in a frying pan, as well as keep an eye on the noodles that were threatening to boil over any moment, he forgot that one of the main components of spaghetti....was the sauce. He forgets all about the glass jar of pasta sauce on the counter until Ruthie shoots him a heads-up text that she’d be leaving work any minute and would be popping over to the grocery outlet to pick up a fresh loaf of bread. 

“Hows it going?” She typed cautiously, not knowing that on the other side of their small town, her brother Sweet Pea was chucking the glass jar into the microwave on ‘high’ for 5 minutes. 

“all good” He replies and hopes that his sister can’t sense that he’s lying. 

When the microwave beeps, Sweet Pea reaches for the glass jar, blissfully unaware of how hot it would be. “Fuck!” He yells, yanking his hand back and letting go of the glass jar. There’s a cascade of red marinara falling with a dissatisfying splat, followed by the shattering sound of the glass jar hitting the parquet floor of the kitchen. Sweet Pea runs his hand under cold water, all while trying to mop up some of his red saucy mess with a damp paper town under his boot. 

The next thing he knows is that there’s keys in the front door lock. He dives onto the floor, trying to make his mess look less drastic that it really is, but his efforts are to no avail. 

Ruthie reports straight to the kitchen after noticing how eerily silent it was at home. And she wishes that she was surprised to see that Sweet Pea had made a mess but she’s not. “What happened to ‘How hard can it be?’” She quotes, pulling the mop from the nook next to the refrigerator and handing it over to him. 

“I told you not to trust me in the kitchen! Now it’s going to reek of pasta sauce forever.” Sweet Pea blanches as he tosses another soggy paper towel in the trash can, flicking a chunk of tomato off of his forearm. 

“Looks like you’re gonna be the one cleaning that up while I’m eating...” Ruthie trails off, trying to think of something she could doctor up now that her original plans for dinner was splattered all over the floor. She opens up the fridge, “a plain plate of noodles with a little bit of butter?” 

[stattic-writes]

Post

https://statticscribbles.tumblr.com/post/639099629845233664/masterlist

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#swarchie #sweet pea #archie andrews #sweet pea x archie andrews #sweet pea x archie #archie x sweet pea #archie andrews x sweet pea #mary andrews #fred andrews #riverdale #riverdale request #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale writing #written

[the-quiet-winds]

You Need a Blue Sky Holiday (part one)

i love this one so much. it’s one that @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i did a while back - more early softness!!!!

[Part 1: I Don’t Wanna Miss a Single Thing]

it’s several weeks into rehearsals when jane shows up late for the first time. jane is always early, which is why her lateness raises some concern, especially from katherine.

jane hurries in about twenty minutes late, looking stressed and dragging a small suitcase behind her. “sorry,” she sighs. “my roof started leaking; i had to call someone round to fix it.” she indicates her suitcase. “also, if anyone knows any hotels that will have a free room tonight then i’d be really grateful. i don’t think they’re going to be able to finish fixing it today.”

the other queens immediately begin recommending places nearby, aragon even naming one next door to her own place. 

it’s later in the morning when katherine approaches her, nervously wringing her hands together. 

“you’re welcome to stay with me,” she says quietly and unsurely. “my apartment isn’t huge but i have a pull out couch.” she drops her voice. “i feel like i should return the favor after all you’ve done for me.”

jane places a hand on her arm. “there is no favor to be repaid, kat. i love having you around.” she smiles. “but if you’re serious about the offer, i’d gladly take it up.”

katherine gives her a small smile. “cool. i, um, i normally get the bus home, but there’s a parking space outside if you brought your car and need to put it somewhere.”

“thank you, kat,” jane says with a genuine, soft grin. “you’re really helping me out here.”

a sense of pride wells in katherine’s chest at that; she was being helpful, she had use. throughout the rest of the day’s rehearsal she tries her best to think of how else to help jane. she’d need to make dinner, of course, she couldn’t expect jane to cook in katherine’s apartment.

she’s practically bouncing by the time rehearsal is over, from anxiety or excitement she isn’t quite sure, though. she gives jane directions to her apartment, a half hour drive in the opposite direction of jane’s house.

they pull to a stop outside an apartment building that had obviously seen better days. katherine tries to hide an embarrassed flush as she brings jane upstairs and into her cold, slightly boring and dingy apartment. 

“home sweet home,” she says with a nervous laugh as they enter.

she fidgets her hands anxiously as jane puts her suitcase down in the hallway. “do you want a drink? tea?” she asks awkwardly, but jane smiles kindly.

“that would be lovely, thank you, kat.”

katherine nods and hurries through to the tiny kitchen, rifling through the mostly empty cupboards to find the box of tea bags she knew was hanging around somewhere. she notes with a cringe that she doesn’t have all that many ingredients for whatever she was going to make for dinner; she should have stopped at a shop or something on the way home.

she finally finds the tea bags in the back of a cupboard behind a few tins of baked beans just as jane steps into the kitchen.

“where are the mugs?” jane asks, opening some of the cabinets to try and help. she notes with a frown how barren most of them are. 

katherine blushes and points to the sink, where both of the only mugs were sitting upside down, obviously having been used. 

jane simply picks them up and gives them a quick rinse and wipes them out with a paper towel, and katherine cringes at jane doing her dishes. jane doesn’t seem to mind, however, and katherine finishes making them tea. 

only a half hour later, once all the tea has been drunk, jane excuses herself to go shower, leaving katherine alone with no plan for how to prepare a dinner for them both.

katherine takes a deep breath to calm her panicked mind before trying to make the best of what she knows she has. right, she has half a bag of pasta, which is good. on the down side, she doesn’t have any sauce to go with it. she rifles through the tiny freezer compartment in the fridge hoping desperately that some miracle had granted her something she could construct into a dinner, but all she can find is some oven chips, a tub of ice cream and an empty ice cube tray. she stares at the nearly empty fridge hopelessly, wondering how she’d let it get to this point where she actually had no food in the house.

well, katherine knew why that was. it was because she’d lived exclusively off instant noodles for the past week, but she couldn’t exactly serve them up to jane.

she’s so busy searching for foods to supplement she doesn’t hear jane behind her.

“katherine?”

she jumps and turns, knocking the half empty bag of pretzels off the shelf she’d be investigating. 

“yes?” she asks.

jane looks at her inquisitively, trying to work out the source of the girl’s stress. “you need some help?”

katherine turns bright red but fights to hide it. “no,” she says in a small voice. 

jane picks up the bag of pretzels and sets it on the counter. “what are you looking for, love?”

katherine shrugs. “anything, really,” she says in a small voice. “but it’s fine,” she adds hastily. “i’ve got it under control.”

she grabs a few things haphazardly from the cupboards and has a quick look at her findings. unless there was a recipe out there that used a pack of cookies, a tin of peas and a single stale tortilla then katherine was fresh out of luck.

jane watches katherine flounder for a second before taking pity and approaching her.

“how about we pop out to the nearest shops and get some ingredients?”

katherine internally cringes again. she was supposed to be housing jane and making her comfortable, and now she was offering to take them both to the store because katherine couldn’t even provide dinner. it’s pitiful, really, she feels, that she can’t even begin to return the kindness jane showed her day in and day out. 

jane sees katherine’s face slowly fall as she spaces out. she steps forward and puts a gentle hand on katherine’s cheek, startling her out of her reverie. she slides her thumb over katherine’s cheekbone. 

“i’ll make us my casserole, yeah?” she offers.

katherine really doesn’t want to agree. “i can do it!” she protests, wincing at how childishly petulant she sounds.

“and i’m not doubting that, kat,” jane says softly. “how about we consider this dinner my thanks to you for letting me stay at such short notice, okay?”

her tone of voice is, like always, so soft and comforting, and for a moment katherine gets lulled into the security of it and almost nods. she stops herself halfway through the movement and tries to disguise it by running a hand through her hair.

jane can see the conflict in katherine’s eyes, but she doesn’t know what the issue is. katherine was already helping enough by just letting her stay, so why couldn’t jane contribute?

“come, love,” she says, taking katherine’s hand and leading her to the door. “let’s go on, now.”

katherine is so close to just letting jane win, just going with it all and letting jane take care of her, but she feels that horrible pathetic sting and pulls back. “i can do it,” she says again, firmer but not angry.

“i know you can, love,” jane says gently. “and i don’t want to impose, but i do want to help, if i can.” she reaches out and takes one of katherine’s hands in hers; katherine reluctantly lets her. “please, kat. let me do this.”

katherine has a horrible twisting feeling in her stomach, caused by her failure to pay back any kind of hospitality to jane, who’s done everything for her over the past few weeks. she genuinely doesn’t know what else to do; agreeing would be admitting her failure and making jane take all the responsibility, but she has no idea what she could possibly create from her bare kitchen and she doesn’t want jane to go hungry either.

there’s hesitation in kat’s response, and jane takes that as an invitation to lightly pull her towards the door. katherine doesn’t argue. 

they head down to the car without katherine saying a single word. jane puts on some music, nothing particularly noteworthy, but she notices katherine quietly humming along to a beyoncé song, and jane can’t help but smile. 

when they arrive, jane picks up a small basket, which katherine immediately takes, mumbling something about wanting to help. 

jane gives her a small smile. “what should we have tonight, love?”

“whatever you want is okay by me,” katherine shrugs, clutching the handle of the basket and not quite looking up at jane. jane looks at her carefully and takes her free hand.

“casserole it is, then, kat.” she gives katherine’s hand a gentle squeeze. she’d cooked for katherine enough times to know that this was her favourite and so she guessed it was a safe bet. “come on, love, we need to start at the vegetable aisle.”

as they make rounds through the store, jane is delighted to see katherine unroll from the anxious bubble she had been in when they arrived, and by the time they were getting the chicken, she was back to her old self and jane can’t help but smile. 

they reach the checkout line and they converse as the man in front of them finishes his purchases. 

they begin setting stuff on the belt when jane sighs. “forgot the chicken stock,” she muses, then looks around. the aisle was just two down from where they were, and there was no one behind them. “you stay here, love, i’ll be right back,” she tells katherine before heading off to find the chicken stock. 

the cashier, a woman no older than jane herself, chuckles lightly at the exchange, then looks back at the ingredients. 

“what’s mum cooking up tonight?” she asks conversationally.

katherine flushes slightly pink. “oh, she-” 

she was going to say “she’s not my mum”, but for some strange reason she can’t bring herself to correct the cashier. maybe it’s the comforting sense of normality about it; if it was true she wouldn’t have to be katherine howard, ex-wife of the king and part of 500 years worth of baggage. instead she could just be kat, here to buy some ingredients for dinner with her mum, jane. it’s a slightly embarrassing thought that she definitely doesn’t want jane to ever find out about, but she allows herself to indulge in the pretense for a little while.

“she’s making a casserole,” katherine says instead, smiling slightly. “my favourite.”

“well, you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you,” the cashier gives a friendly laugh. “that sounds lovely.”

“it will be,” katherine mumbles, that same goofy grin on her face and a blush tinting her ears a bit pink. 

the cashier smiles as jane returns with the last ingredient. she rings it up and jane takes out her card to pay.

katherine can’t get her mind off what the cashier had said and what had followed. 

then, the cashier speaks again to katherine as she hands jane and katherine their bags. 

“be kind to your mum, kid,” she says teasingly.

jane doesn’t comment on it, and katherine isn’t sure if she’s relieved or worried by that fact. she didn’t correct the woman or seem offended by the comment, which was encouraging, but maybe jane was just being polite.

they take the bags back to the car and jane switches the radio on again as she pulls out of the car park and onto the road.

while katherine was looking out for jane’s reaction, unbeknownst to her jane had been monitoring katherine’s reaction. she noted the little skip in katherine’s step after the cashier mistook them for mother and daughter, and she could see the tiny grin that katherine was struggling to hide. honestly, jane thought it was very sweet.

she continues to keep her expression neutral as she parks the car outside katherine’s apartment building and lets kat lead them upstairs, but she fails to hold back the tiniest hidden grin at the thought of katherine being her daughter. 

she packs it away a moment later, not wanting to fill her head with fantasies, especially not fantasies that could hurt kat. what if they got too close and it all fell apart?

jane casts these thoughts from her head as she and katherine begin preparing dinner. they fall into a familiar rhythm - katherine peeling the vegetables as jane chops other ingredients.

the casserole goes in the oven for its thirty minute bake time and jane and katherine find themselves simply looking at the other, an odd sense of awkwardness between them.

“sorry i don’t have a tv,” katherine gives jane an apologetic look. “i could put something on my laptop, if you wanted?”

“it’s okay, kat,” jane smiles. “i don’t mind.”

the silence draws on between them for a few more moments before jane speaks again.

“so, how are you feeling about rehearsals? excited for the show?”

“i guess,” katherine shrugs. “i’m excited to tour. i didn’t get to go many places before...” she trails off and scratches at the base of her neck awkwardly.

jane presses her lips together but forces a tiny smile. “i’m sure it’ll be very fun-filled.”

katherine just nods and looks down at the floor. jane crosses to her and puts an arm around her shoulders, leading her to the couch. 

it’s a bit uncomfortable, jane finds, stiff and most definitely second hand. but jane stops thinking about that when katherine curls up and lays her head against her shoulder. habitually, jane places a light kiss in katherine’s hair as they sit in silence.

katherine tenses for the tiniest moment at the pressure of jane kissing the top of her head, and then she relaxes, closing her eyes and curling up even closer to jane. the silence is slightly less awkward now, a little more comforting instead.

jane absent-mindedly starts humming as her fingers run through the ends of katherine’s hair, the melody soft and calming.

jane feels katherine unfurls slightly, relaxing into her arms. she holds kat just lightly closer and feels the girl’s breathing slow and even out against her side as she seems to fall asleep. 

jane waits, not stopping  her humming or her soft ministrations of katherine’s hair until the oven dings.

“hey, love,” she says quietly, “it’s time to wake up, yeah?”

katherine stirs with a sleepy yawn and an adorably dazed expression on her face. “mhm?” she questions, and jane can’t help the soft smile that quirks her lips.

“dinner’s ready,” she says, standing up. katherine perks up slightly at the news and gets to her feet, still trying to wipe away the sleep from her eyes. 

jane’s smile doesn’t fade as she leads the girl to the kitchen.

———————————————————————————————————–

tag list: @percabeth15 @kats-seymour @qualquercoisa945 @jane-fucking-seymour @a-slightly-cracked-egg @justqueentingz @annabanana2401 @wolfies-chew-toy @broad-way-13 @tvandmusicals @lailaliquorice @aimieallenatkinson @sweet-child-why03 @gaylinda-of-the-upper-uplands @funky-lesbians@thinkaboutitmaybe @hansholbeingoesaroundzeworld @anaamess@beeskneeshuh @prick-up-ur-ears @theartoflazy @justqueentwo @brother-orion @paleshadowofadragon @lafemmestars @beautifulashes17 @jarneiarichardnxel @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @sixcago @mixer1323 @boleynssixthfinger @aimieallen @elphiesdance @boleynthebunny @krystalhuntress @lupin-loves-chocolate@bellacardoza16 @bluify

#six the musical #six musical #jane seymour #katherine howard #julie and jess write #you need a blue sky holiday

[simptasia]

hc questions 5, 6, 7, 26, 44 & 47 for any or all of the science team members if you want? :)

oh bless!! thank you!! i’ll go with My Beloved Three, as usual, the sci trio

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

my hcs on this have wobbled over time but overall i imagine dan, char and miles are all like, fairly, neat. tho they all have a tendency to leave papers around

and miles doesn’t make the bed as much. cuz imagining miles napping in rumpled quilts is a very cute mental image. hair disheveled

i think a good term for whats going on with dan and char is Organized Chaos. they’re both scientists (and a musician) for heck’s sake. it doesn’t look like they know what they’re doing but they do. but ur not gonna walk into their house(s) and be like “ugh gross what the fuck”. it’s nice. dan tends to make the bed

and i imagine dan keeps The Rat Room (yes, you heard me) immaculate because you reeeeeeally want that area to be well cared for

as for personal, lets get this out of the way, none of them are yucky. but dan is showering the least, just due to absent mindedness and hyperfixation. like ya really get into a project and then suddenly oh fuck i need a shower. but thats relative. he’s not a stinky gross boy. i imagine miles washes the most because like, he has body piercings and those GOTTA be cleaned every day, especially the downstairs one. miles values his dick, he don’t want an infection

also its amazing how much more you shower/bathe when you have a partner. or in this case, two partners. in general and for sexy purposes. hell yeah

well thats enough of me picturing these three showering, moving on

Eating habits and sample daily menu

its odd how often i’ve pictured these people eating together

dan: eats the least (and for once that isn’t a skinny joke, he could eat cake every day and he’d still be like that) because for the most part he doesn’t have much of an appetite. he eats what he needs, with random bursts of being really hungry (it’s a neurodivergent thing). i imagine he has a extra fondness for pasta and can put a surprising amount of it away when he wants to. tho typically for ease, he’ll stick to noodles. he takes his coffee mild and decaf. i hc him as a vegetarian due to not being able to process meat. his body also cannot handle alcohol and the one time he tried it he needed to be hospitalized. his ice cream preference is vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. or honeycomb. favourite vegetable is capsicum (which he’d call a bell pepper because he’s american), favourite fruit is pineapple. on that note he likes pineapple pizza. overall he eats simple but isn’t against trying new things. he has a very neutral disposition towards food

char: of the trio, i define charlotte as the Loud Passionate One so obviously being a big eater goes with that, likes a big breakfast (eggs, sausages, sometimes french toast!), sometimes skips lunch when she’s working at the museum due to focus, has a ravenous sweet tooth (i haven’t been subtle that i’ve made her ADORE chocolate but in general i see her liking sweet things), she can handle eating less tho because she’s gone on plenty of expeditions and such. so i think she eats a lot under normal circumstances because, like, she can. i don’t think i need to tell you what her ice cream or starbucks preferences are, do i? takes her coffee with three sugars, two coffees and creamy. likes mochas and hot chocolates too. with marshmallows. naturally, her fave kind of chocolate is galaxy because she is an English Woman. another fave of hers is cadbury’s creme eggs. but lest you think Good Lord Sapphire This Woman’s Entire Body Is A Sugar Molecule, don’t worry she does eat well. like veggies, fruits, meats, she’s fine. of meats, she has a fondness for fish (i have no further information, im terrible with fish. but she’s a pom, so...). favourite fruit is pear, favourite vegetable is peas. likes a bacardi, or rum and coke

miles: he eats a “normal” amount but he’s a grazer. which means, not so much Set Meal eating than eating/snacking thru out the day. he takes his coffee black, no surprise, but with sugar! see, its a metaphor. for him. likes fried eggs and hash browns. his fave food is very cheap mac and cheese. i think in general he really likes cheese. he doesn’t have complicated tastes, like, he grew up poor. he likes seafood (in particular fish tacos) but not lobster as he discovered when he got cashed up. he likes salty food but likes sweets too, in particular i can imagine him snacking on m&ms, skittles, gummi bears. little things. doesn’t have a fave vegetable because he doesn’t care enough, to him veggies are things to eat so you won’t die. doesn’t hate him but isn’t excited to eat ‘em. fave ice cream is mint choc. he’ll drink whatever (except for vodka) but is used to beer. thinks pineapple on pizza is an abomination, espech since he really likes pizza otherwise. i consider him a food opportunist, like, oh theres food here? yoink. or like, oh hey, if everybody else is eating, i’ll have whatever’s going on

....i feel like whenever i write hcs about these guys my brain takes on their tone. like, that was a lot of short, eh whatever, sentences for miles there

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

dan:

- reading (really depends on how you define Wasting Time). also he composes music and when he was alive, that was considered wasting time (ugh)

- sometimes even just doing hobbies or work or whatever, even then, he tends to have this feeling of never doing enough due to his Perfectly Healthy And Supportive Upbringing [seethes] so uhhhh basically, anxiety? like this was a dude raised to think anything other than his work was a waste of time. it didn’t exactly work but a decent amount of that Pressure has to still sit with him

char:

- watching tv, espech star trek

- not a waste of time if you’re enjoying yourself

miles:

- card and board games (weren’t expecting that, were ya? i’m not saying that's his Fave Thing To Do, but he considers that a good chill out thing to do. something to do when ur bored but you don’t feel like watching tv or having sex)

- “it’s something to do”

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

dan:

for original lifetime dan, it was Do Science, Make Mom Proud (tiny voice: and maybe spend the rest of my life with charlotte. if i’m lucky. maybe. please? love?) cuz i imagine dan, although very focussed on the future, actually doesn’t think/care about HIS future. i just don’t think he cares about himself enough

limbo dan is like Make Music, Love Charlotte. which is fair. and then Love Miles on top of that. so yeah, just wants to be a good musician and husband. and one day, father. with char actually in his life in this world, thats def on his mind. he won’t bring it up tho, he’ll wait for her to mention it :3

(dan’s canon contingency plan for things not working out is hydrogen bomb)

char:

alive char, like, ADVENTURE! ISLAND! SOLVE MYSTERIES! that makes it sound like she’s a fucking scooby doo character. i mean, her Goal was to find the island and find out what the fucky duck is going on. she did that. and overall his goals seem like adventure/career orientated. i hc that this version of char never intended on getting married or having kids. she wasn’t Against the ideas and she’s certainly had romances but she was more thinking of other things. (that and i think deep down char thought nobody would ever wanna marry her)

in limboverse There Is No Mystery but she still has her great job(s), that is she works at a museum and i think she goes on expeditions sometimes. so theres that, she’s got the great career. really, her Plan for the future in this world is live the live she couldn’t before. she (and dan!) died young so they’re gonna like, actively adore each other and get married and have kids. and also miles is there. ha, that sounded so rude. she loves miles too. (besties/fuck buddies turned Hey You Wanna Join Me And Dan’s Relationship and miles like... yeah sure)

miles:

step one: get money to fill gaping hole of sadness in chest

step two: ????

step three: die

and even my limbo miles whomst i’ve put with dan and char doesn’t have any plans for the future, besides like, do his job and maybe become a dad again (context: i hc that miles had two kids with richard when he was alive). so he’s still chilling but without the depressing ache of loneliness and bitterness

so basically long story short for all of them (in limboverse): Love & Family

Superstitions or views on the occult?

ohooo i like this one

dan: didn’t grow up believing in magic and such (which is super ironic because his mother is a fucking other) but he has a very open mind. i think he’ll believe it if he’s thrust into the situation. it’s interesting really, dan is known as the science guy and that's great but he’s super fucking accepting of not science shit. tho of course, he’s not seeing the island time travel as magic but science. but more importantly, he regards miles’ powers with zero doubt or questioning. he doesn’t even seem confused, he is absolutely on board with miles being able to talk to dead people. this all implies miles told him off screen and dan believes him

so basically he’ll accept whatever is presented to him as true

which honestly, is what a good scientist is like. the trope of the scientist character who is ultra non believing of the supernatural, even when they’re seeing it before their eyes, is annoying. like, you know the ones? the ones who get angry about it. the overly skeptical scientist. hate that. dan is not that

and his character arc includes embracing free will over destiny so there's that

char: she’s not superstitious and doesn’t believe in magic or the supernatural at all. tho thrown into bizarre situations she’s like ???? but has to accept it. and she KNOWS something is up with the island. she knows its different. i just mean, under normal circumstances she’d regard magic stuff as funny nonsense. i hc that char, in living life, doesn’t believe miles can speak to the dead. really fucking weird this isn’t addressed in the show but hahaaaa they wasted char! anyways and like, if presented with the concept that dan’s brain damage is being healed by the island, she’d look confused, say thats impossible but she’d think on it

what i’m saying is she’ll rule out magic concepts at first, on reflex. but would grow to accept them, especially with stuff she knows/has repressed

she doesn’t believe in ghosts, psychics, visions, magic healing and all those exist in her world, so it’s all a matter of experience

miles: WELL WHADDYA THINK

actually it’s funny. miles has magic powers but he’s 0% superstitious and i imagine outside of his own powers, he really doesn’t believe in the occult. i hc that until he personally proved otherwise, he grew up thinking he was mentally ill. and once he realised it was true, thought he was some kind of freak

and he’s incredulous when he finds out hurley has powers too. tho miles, being miles, does roll with the punches a lot in the show, he’s skeptical when it comes to hurley's power. and i find that interesting. also i fucking love how when hurley describes his power, miles says “thats not how it works”, like ???? babe???

but overall his attitude on the island is like “well. this is happening”

i do think thru his life, despite his power, he doesn’t believe in All Magic or occult or whatever. i also hc that he attracted those kind of people who are REALLY into astrology and auras and stuff like that and he found them exasperating. (i think he’d be a lot more okay with it if it was claire who was talking about astrology and palm reading with him. he’d be endeared when its her)

and i think he thinks other psychics he’s met or seen on tv are straight up bullshit. he can believe he has it but he’s skeptical of other people. just assumes they’re scammers. hell, he was a scammer. who just happened to have the power. he was like “well i have this, i may as well get some use outta it”

oh and in limboverse, they all kinda have to accept their situation. and they take it with ease due to appreciating getting happier lives

How do they express love?

a dan who loves you will pet your face and look at you like ur his entire reason to live. a char who loves you will squeak at your jokes and will never once let you feel bad about yourself. a miles who loves you is sorry he isn’t better at this stuff but he really is trying... sure we can cuddle if you wanna, that’s cool v///v

the dan and char we saw in the show was them holding back and i find that very amusing because they were HEART EYES AS FUCK for each other and so affectionate and so soft hearted, like oh my gosh. canon show dan/char is them when they’re pining... when they’re not even a couple (yet, damn it)

imagine them at full power

i figured it out, dan/char couldn’t be an Official Couple because then jeremy davies and rebecca mader would have destroyed us all, especially me

anyways. they’re both very protective of each other. they... they touch each other a lot. like a lot for people who aren’t dating and whomst don’t think the other one loves them. like char is surprised when dan says he loves her. that fucking astonishes me. HE’S NOT SUBTLE. char are you okay???

dan is more open about the love than char, seeing as he said it. and double downed on it. char i feel was holding back for different reasons than dan. dan was holding back (fucking barely) because of eloise’s Love Will Only Bring Pain upbringing, which’d give somebody a serious complex. so he was adverse to actually pursuing a relationship AND i figure he thought “she wouldn’t wanna be with me anyways”. but char i imagine, a deep seated insecurity and need to be defensive, but also! dan was like REALLY mentally unwell before the island. and that's the dan that char knows (and loves) but she’d feel guilty if she pursued anything with him. like she’s taking advantage of a brain damaged person

ah fuck i went on a big thing about why they didn’t become a couple instead of like.... the question. how do they express love? like they did in the show. smiles, touches, longing gazes, protectiveness. they would die for each other

as for miles, how does he express love? Not Well. at first

whoever is the first person he fell in love with (i imagine richard), he was not good at... being open about that. i don’t think miles is good with love. lived his life pretty detached/bitter about the concept, which i imagine is due to having cynicism about life and death. everybody you love is gonna die, so why bother? (his mom dying hit him pretty hard) so uhhh its gonna be... baby steps

slowly becoming more open about liking somebody, becoming more affectionate, more... uh, couple-y (and later throuple-y). it’d take time and he will always be miles, but hey, he gets there. he’ll still always have his snark but he won’t be a Genuine Asshole to people he loves. heck, i imagine he’ll be downright soft in the right situation. and he can be gentle and kind. he’s a salty boy not a cunt

but i digress. basically he’s a little “yeah, yeah, i love you too, shut up” about it but he does have that soft gooey center. basically those who know him, and love him, know his true heart. it’s just a part of being miles “defensive walls” straume

feels love (and even that takes him a while to realise, cuz he hasn’t been a romantic relationship kinda guy, most of his life his relationships have been a Just Sex thing), not Great at like... Doing Love, you know what i mean? but like once he’s used to it, he can be quite a tender little pudding cup, actually

#asalesbian #lost headcanons #BRUH I WROTE SO MUCH #SOOOO MUCH #sometimes i hold back #but this time i took the chance to go on some tangents and such #i really enjoyed this!

[morethanaprincess-a]

Hiraeth + Sonia and Sophie :D

Non-translatable word prompts

Hiraeth -  : A particular type of longing for the homeland or the romanticised past

Sophie had had a bad week. That much was clear to Sonia, from her less-than-usual talkative self and how much time she shut herself away in her atelier, working on a new creation. One that had to be better than the last, something brilliant and beautiful. Perhaps she questioned her talent, or she’d had an altercation with another student or even with her family, thousands of miles away. But after a week of bringing her food on a tray and leaving small sachets of tea on each one, hoping the bursts of flavor in the form of flowers, caramel, and citrus would soothe whatever ailed her, the Ultimate Princess had had enough. She was going to distract one of her closest friends with something even Sophie wasn’t immune to: the pub.

Even Towa City had a place for expats to gather. And for lunch, no one looked twice at two foreign teenage girls (well, barring the few gaijin hunters who lingered by the door, eager to chat up anyone attractive who entered and looked vaguely European, American, or Canadian). Sonia sat across the small wooden table from Sophie, careful not to balance her lemonade over the various grooves of steak knives and possibly broken glass in the surface. The place was popular to watch football and rugby matches from various clubs around the UK, but they’d visited on a quieter afternoon and therefore blessed with peaceful conversation instead of raucous crowds. But Sonia had selected the day based on the menu available online: the daily specials changed and it had been fortuitous that on that Saturday afternoon, they were serving a traditional Shepherd’s pie, complete with peas and Yorkshire pudding. It was far more a taste of home for Sophie than Sonia, which was her intention, but enough visits to her friend and the Hatter family, invited to tuck in for tea while the Hatter matriarch saw to final fittings for the Queen of Novoselic, did bring some nostalgia to the Princess too.

“Look Sophie, our meals are ready!” Sonia beamed, nodding to the server who approached them from the pub kitchen, two plates balanced in his hands. “Can you believe we’ve even found Yorkshire pudding in Japan? As much as I think it is important to embrace our opportunity here, it’s nice to know that we’re not entirely alone in our homesickness. I think spending as much time as I did with you and your family, this almost feels like home to me too.”

Her smile persisted as she thanked the server, watching him leave before looking down at her plate. Only then did her pleasant facade begin to show its cracks: the pudding looked relatively normal and it was difficult to make peas appear inedible. But the shepherd’s pie itself had only the thinnest layer of mashed potato on top and as a further insult to injury, the thick, rectangular slice had mayonnaise drizzled over the top. Similar to how she’d seen the condiment put on pizza, on pasta, and other western food the Japanese deemed it to be a necessary addition for.

“I...I suppose we should try it?” She looked to Sophie with hopeful eyes, already slicing through the pie with the edge of her fork, mayonnaise and all. This had been her grand idea, she should be the first, if necessary, to fall on her metaphorical sword. Or in this case, a lamb dish with a questionable ratio of potato to filling and inappropriate condiments. Bringing the utensil to her lips, Sonia swallowed in preparation before taking the first bite.

But nothing could have readied her for that. The creamy mayonnaise drowned out all semblance of the herbs and spices that made a Shepherd’s Pie so hearty. And with the thin layer of starch atop the minced meat, carrots, and vegetables, the dish was more or less reliant on the offending mayonnaise to provide the entire scope of flavor. To put it politely, it was disappointing. To put it in honest terms, it was an affront to everything Sonia had grown up with when visiting Sophie and made her feel in dire need of a cider or even better, a scotch.

“Oh no...this is...” Sonia began, knowing full well that the owner of the establishment was in earshot and clearly pleased that two foreign girls chose to visit his pub instead of the cafes and family restaurants far more popular with the younger generation. She couldn’t manage the words it tastes awful, even if it was uttered no louder than a whisper. “I miss visiting you in England.” There. A diplomatic way to convey both her disappointment in their meal and the longing that subsequently now settled over them.

#more-than-a-princess answered #Non-translatable word prompts #(In which Sonia tries to do something nice and it backfires horribly) #(I can only imagine an expat pub won't stay in business long) #(Not if they put mayo on things that shouldn't have mayo) #madamhatter