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wytfut · 1 year

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Boys... seat belts required

As previously stated... Patti and I have raised 3 boys. Nothing really world changing with that statement, but as a parent... well... I’m pretty proud of it.

My sons aren’t anymore special than anyone else’s kids, but I’m beaming.

Funny how that all works.

I just LOVE family get togethers. I look forward pining for these special days. And my kids live actually close by.

Get all 3 of them together, and its usually laughing until my tears flow, and side aches.. More relevant to now than the past.

There are certain parts of this history, I should omit from here, but I’m so very proud of the story, I can’t help but share.

Other parts just send chills down me.... as these guys all show certain parts of Patti and I. Something you just don’t see while its happening. One of those “I do that... why is he?”

Going to make my best attempt to keep this within a reasonable length. Its going to be some massive editing, I can tell already.

I’ll eventually break this up in several parts....

Patti and I met at a new Theater (Plaza 4) in downtown Lincoln. We were hired to help get it open. She worked the candy counter, and I was an Usher. This was Summer of 73. Dated for a few years and then married.

Once the Whitefoot family got to know Patti, she changed her nickname to “Toots”. Which my Mom just loved. My sisters name was also Patti.... and Toots already had this nickname previously.... and so she has been known as Toots to certain folks since... For those that don’t know... “Toots” is her family’s last name inside out “OttO”.

I still up to this day have no idea why/how she puts up with me and my shenanigans. But she does... and it works so far.

Jake was first. And as all first kids are, he was “perfect”. We were amazed that we could produce something this perfect.

We later discovered he wasn’t so perfect, when we got around other folks and their “perfect” infants,.... perfectly normal actually.

I remember commenting to Patti that when Jake was hungry as an infant, he looked like a baby robin waiting to be fed, head up, mouth wide open....

He was also very loud when crying. All kids are loud when crying, but Jake was amplified. Not sure how he did that.

Going to school, Jake always worked hard to get good grades. Always involved in ALL activities. Everything always required him to work hard to do well, even sports, even in cross country. With the EXCEPTION of the ability to speak.

Younger, it was hard to get him to shut up. As he got older and an adult, this “speaking” became his weapon of choice.

Went to college (University of Nebraska Lincoln) for close to 6 years, all the while changing his major. Even went to University of Nebraska Omaha for a while.

Ended up Majoring in Construction Management. With his grades good, he was head hunted by several large construction companies. One flew him to California, another i believe to Alaska. Couple of outfits in Colorado, one where he had interned.

Jake didn’t want to work for a large company. He wanted to work for a small one and help it build up. And this all happened with Gana Trucking and Excavation.

He got hired right out of college, and got this company its first million dollar contract while still interning. Now he’s VP... and pretty much daily operations (fixer).

Jake is Jake.... if you didn’t know of his background, he’s just a regular Joe. I think he feels a bit out of place sometimes when hanging with local riff raff, but generally he ignores it.... and thus, he gets along with everyone... very well. ummm... those speaking skills.

His first marriage produced Grandson Jack.

Then he met Katie. And they were a match and married. Katie brought 2 kids with her... Emma and Dylan. Great kids. Love it when they call me Grandpa. Miss Everly then showed up... the youngest of the grand kids.

Luke was next. A true blue toe head. Hilarious even as a infant. I remember at the dinner table, him in the high chair, taking handfuls of spaghetti, and taking his handfuls and smearing it in his hair. Laughing the whole time. Actually all of us were laughing.

Some guys I used to ride with on the north side of town (north side geezers), call him “Dauber” from the old TV show “Coach”. Luke is still blond, big and tall (tallest of the 3 boys and I). If he was mean, he’d be a very tough opponent to deal with.

Luke is my clone, according to a lot of folks. Sometimes I see it, sometimes I don’t.

Luke didn’t care (just like me) about school. Didn’t mean anything to him. He never flunked anything, but a few times it was close (just like me).

He was a natural athlete, with smooth moves. One heck of basket ball player. None of that like me.

When he was 15 he was involved in a parents worst nightmare... a car accident in the middle of the night, with other underaged kids....

He died on the OR table, they brought him back. And then a coma for a couple of days. Short term memory loss.

But he fully recovered with no issues.

Luke’s my artist. cool skills there. A wonderful carpenter. Pretty sure if its wood, he can build it. A complete nut for being OCD on details. Details to him are very important on producing/making/building something. This isn’t the normal notice to details, but finite details.

On first impression, I’d say Lukes biggest personality trait would be his humor. He can get folks laughing so hard (me) they cry. A lot of his humor is his point of view (its not normal, just like me, its askew). He has me and anyone else he encounters giggling, most of the time.

In High School he met his Wife Lisa. They dated for a long time. Bought a house together north of Waverly. And finally got married. loloolo...

It was a cool wedding, setting, small group, outside.... loved it.

A few years into it.... and Nora blessed our lives. I get to see Nora the most of my grandkids due to Patti or I pick her up from school several times a week. Love to torment that little “Dauber”.... lolololol. Nora and I have had several adventures together.

Josh came about several years later. Patti wanted to try one more time for a girl. Josh was supposed to be a girl according to everyone during Patti’s pregnancy.

Surprise.

So we dressed him in girls clothes until he figured it out. ..... not really, but my favorite Josh joke.

Josh was a natural athlete, at any sport. Youth sport coaches all wanted Josh for his killer instinct. Always had good grades, and didn’t have to work very hard at it to achieve that. School from a Fathers point of view was easy for Josh.

I coached Josh and his school chums in Soccer for almost 12 years. As his father/coach, I could see a lot of natural leadership skills. He was a born leader.

Josh would have nothing to do with it. Did not want the attention.

Graduated from High School and went on to University of Nebraska Lincoln for a year.

He had some long dark years here. A few different jobs. Ended up with Gana Trucking as a heavy equipment operator.

His darkness was due to Alcoholism. ..

Something no parent obviously wants to see. And although its irrational, I still blame myself time to time.

As all alcoholics go, you cannot reason with them, although I made many attempts. I ended up giving up on him, and knew someday he’d hit bottom. And I’d get my son back (dead or alive).

I didn’t hate him by any means, but I couldn’t depend on him. If he showed up, he showed up, and we’d make the best of it. If he didn’t, well ok, so be it. Its no fun at all. Many sleepless nights. ...

3 Years ago, Jake/Katie basically kidnapped/talked Josh into it, going to Valley of Hope in Norfolk Nebraski. This place has a long history with a great record for recovery.

Josh did his time there (really not the correct terminology, Josh has great memories there), and has been clean since. I got my son back.

And boy howdy is he ever back. Crisp clean, with conversations with too much depth for me at times. I swim in his conversations, almost drowning. Plus now a biting sense of humor. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’s a touch mean.

Sold his house in Lincoln, and bought a much nicer one here in Waverly. A perfect set up for a bachelor, who likes to wrench to keep his mind busy. Huge shop with a lift in the back yard.

My Sons and are all “outdoorsmen�� of sorts. Josh is the only one that actually fishes hard core. Jake, Luke and I don’t really do any hunting/fishing anymore... But we all love the outdoors... Colorado for example, lake life, shooting, motorcycling. You can get the drift..

AND THEY ALL LOVE FORDS.... I'm so lucky..... LOLOLOL

here’s the whole bunch of us with Patti’s folks in Colorado.

Patti looks so very young here... wow, why does she care for a hill billy like me.... amazing.

l - r .... Patti, Jeanette Otto, Luke, Jake, Darel Otto, Myself, holding Josh.

those are my Pops legs on the right.

about 1985ish

Josh, Jake, Luke (told you he was tall), and I

This shot is great.

Left to right

My self, Luke, Josh, Nephew Drew, Nephew Brendan, Nephew Devin, Brother in law Chris, and Jake.

We made a picture day, of all the boys and their rides for my Father. Lots of laughs, lots of pictures. good time...

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isasuus · 3 years

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i ship it

#skam nl #isa keijser #gay #saphic #wlw #this looks like an edit i can’t believe this actually happened and they aren’t together #the way they look at eachother #anisa or isna #anna x isa #someone write a fic

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k3rm1e · 3 years

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cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #nihachu x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #tommyinnit x reader #badboyhalo x reader #skeppy x reader #eret x reader #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #kermie's headcanons #kermie spent so long on this and is dying

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amerylliss · 2 years

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🤍🐈‍⬛ “What’s new [[KITTY]] cat?” - Purring Spamton Headcanons 🐈‍⬛🤍

As promised- I really like the idea of Spammy being able to purr, it’s just too cute of an idea not to write for! I (may) have little bonus headcanon stuff at the end too just because :) please enjoy! EDIT: I also just realized I reached 300 followers after i posted this sooo, from the bottom of my heart, thank you very much! 💕

🖤 Purring is a rare trait in monsters and darkeners that aren’t feline or feline related, so for the Addisons and Spamton to have the ability to do this, it’s sort of a baffling mystery of biology and science. For them in particular, they will only do it if they are in an extreme state of calm/relaxation and they feel very safe or at home in another’s presence. In addition, it’s not something they choose to do or something they can control- it’s instinctive.

🖤 Spamton has never actually done it before and believed he couldn’t do it at all. For most of his life, he has never really felt entirely safe with others or has been calm enough to do so. However, he’s aware of it being a thing, since he has seen the Addisons do it with each other.

🖤 You two have been together for a decent amount of time when it first happened, maybe a month or so into your relationship.

🖤 You were both in bed one evening, with him snuggled up beside you and a movie playing softly on the tv across the room. His head is on your chest, both arms wrapped around your waist and eyes closed. The two of you haven’t spoken a word for a while- you don’t have to. You’re just content being in each other’s company.

🖤 At first, you didn’t notice it at all, too busy watching the movie to take note of it. After all, you were half-asleep.

🖤 Then, ever so slightly, you begin to hear a soft rumbling noise coming from next to you. Since when did you have a cat in your apartment?

🖤 Then, it hits you like a truck. Spamton is purring.

🖤 You try your best to contain how absolutely overcome with joy you are at this discovery, but you can’t keep it up for very long. Softly, you call out to him. “Spamton?”

🖤 Usually, saying his name once is enough to get him to look at you and ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t even stir. You say his name again, and he shifts just a bit, giving you a “Hmm?” as a response.

🖤 You’re smiling ear to ear when you share the news with him. “I didn’t know you could purr.“

🖤 “Oh…” He sleepily responds. “Yeah… of course I can purr…” A few seconds pass before he realizes what he just said.

🖤 “I CAN PURR!?”

🖤 Immediately, he sits up and pushes himself away from you, his face a bright shade of crimson and his mouth agape in pure shock and embarrassment. “I did not just [[Release a New Hit Single!]] N-No way, that’s [IMPOSSIBLE]! I d-didn’t even [[Think McFly!]] I could d.. do that! I.. I’m so [EMBARRASSED]!” Upon finishing his little outburst, his hands moved to cover his face, as if attempting to hide his shame from you.

🖤 You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. How can he be this adorable!? It’s illegal!

🖤 After scooting a bit closer to him and giving a few words of reassurance, Spamton realizes that what he did is *probably* not the weirdest thing he could’ve done, especially considering you two are in a literal romantic relationship. This calms him down enough to return to your side, clinging to you once more.

🖤 “You’re too good to me, Y/N. What did I ever do to [Deserve] you?” To which, you respond with “It’s really nothing, Spammy. You don’t ever need to feel embarrassed when you’re with me”.

🖤 After a little while, you got a bit curious and decide to ask him why he suddenly started doing that out of the blue, seeing as he had never done it up until this point.

🖤 “Well…” He begins, blush rising in his face once more. “It means I feel at home with you.”

———

BONUS HEADCANONS:

🖤 In addition to purring, they have some bird-like habits as well (because obviously!)

🖤 One of these is their hair acting somewhat like a crest at times, fluffing up when they get very angry, flustered, excited, etc.

🖤 Spamton’s in particular does this a lot… like, a whole lot! Just like the purring thing, he initially finds it embarrassing until you assure him that he has nothing to be ashamed of.

🖤 If you ever want to see it in action, all you have to do is get touchy with him. Taking his hands or holding his cheeks when he least expects it should do the trick.

#i am DYING on this hill!! this is real #toby fox told me so #spamton #spamton x reader #headcanons #deltarune #imagines #undertale #toby fox

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spyoikawa · 3 years

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still on that saiki k brainrot so hear me out-

metori, saiki, teruhashi, aren and hairo with an s/o who really loves to bake/cook-

no thoughts just Reader learning how to make coffee jelly for saiki (like maybe they make him a tower of coffee jelly for an anniversary or his birthday-). no thoughts just Reader cooking something for metori who pretends to not want to eat it cause it’s ‘peasant food’ but ends up really enjoying their cooking. no thoughts just cooking/baking date with teruhashi. no thoughts just teaching aren how to cook/bake and having a food trade with him, bringing him lunch/a snack to school. and no thoughts just hairo hyping Reader up while they cook/bake and making stuff for him to bring to class rep meetings-

thank you! <3

the excitement I got got I saw teruhasi- i don't see a lot of writing for her and I get happy when I get to do less than common things! Thanks!

I'm running low on creative juices, so please I hope you don't mind if I use the exact scenarios you suggested 💀

Note: some of the things I wrote felt really rude so please don't mind the tone tags in parentheses, also i have not edited this yet

Saiki, Teruhasi, Hairo, Aren, and Saiko with an S/O who can cook/bake

♡romantic♡

Saiki Kusuo (italics = saiki telepathy)

Although it was undeniably tasty, your boyfriend's obsession with coffee jelly was not only getting out of hand but also quite expensive-

I mean he spent 3,000 yen for one serving-

But yanno what it's ok, coffee jelly is easy to make, and this gives you an excuse to hang out (not that you need one)

"Ok Ku, i had an idea"

I like it, just make sure you teach me how to do it too

"Rude. I wasn't finished"

You did in your head

As endearing as it could be sometimes, Saiki's mind-reading could be a pain occasionally

You wound me.

"Good. (/j)"

After a long debate over recipes and serving sizes, there it was, in all its glory, your first batches of coffee jelly

it was heaven

You did end up sharing the recipe with him, but it still became a little tradition to make the coffee jelly together

It just tastes better that way :)

Kokomi Teruhashi

In the midst of your TV and cuddles date, Kokomi huffed and turned off the TV

But of course it was rude to just turn off the TV, so she offered to play a board game instead

You did play with her, but your curiosity was begging as to why she wanted to change the activity

"Hey Kokomi, this game is fun, don't worry... but why'd you turn off the TV so suddenly?"

"Oh, it was nothing! I just thought you would like this game, and I wanted you to enjoy yourself more!"

Now, that's the answer the most perfect girl in the world would give

But Kokomi is still human, there's gotta be something wrong

You spent a while thinking to yourself about what you were watching, you two agreed on a documentary, then after the documentary, the channel played a cooking show with a guest baker/cook Makoto Teruhashi- oh.

So that was it

At the end of the round, you stood up and offered your hand to pull up Kokomi with you.

"Hey, wanna make a bet?"

She looked up with a bit of curiosity.

"I bet you, I can make your favorite dish, far better than Makoto can"

She smiled a bit, "sure!"

Her favorite food was simple, so you taught her to cook it and added in some other things just for fun (and so she can't recreate it without your secret ingredients)

Now you guys have cooking dates often and always find ways to spice up foods (and beat Makoto at whatever he was doing on tv)

Hairo Kineshi

my thoughts and prayers go to you

we all saw what happened when he tried to make crepes

but in his mind, it was a learning opportunity

You guys were taking an after-school stroll, the weather was really nice, it would be a shame if you two just went home and did nothing. Walks like these tend to get sentimental and nostalgic, so your conversation subconsciously started to drift towards school life.

"And do you remember that time we had to get kuboyasu, kaido, and nendo to play on a baseball team? Oh my god thank god it didn't go too poorly, that one player really pulled through at the end..." you laughed out

"Haha I do remember that, I can't believe we got them to play, it really could've gone worse" He smiled as he remembered that day, but then his eyes drifted up to a bakery across the road. "Speaking of poor experiences..."

after he explained to you he and kaido's crepe disaster, you couldn't help but tease fun at him for a bit

but you did agree to teach him more about cooking and baking

he's a bit too passionate about cracking eggs, but hey, at least you can work faster

after many, many burnt crepes and pans, there it was, a fallen appart, incorrectly folded, but still a properly cooked crepe sat there in all its beauty

it kinda looked like this

Although he does learn many different things with you, crepes will be the thing he makes over and over again, even when he has it down to a science, just because it's the first thing you taught him, and he will keep that sweet memory forever (get it. sweet? Cause crepes? Im funny i swear.)

Aren Kuboyasu

He actually knows how to cook pretty well

He's not really sure when he picked up cooking, its kinda just stuck around, but he enjoys it, it makes him seem more goody

and he can treat you :)

I will die on my "aren lives for the most basic/domestic activities hill"

cooking with him is always an experience, he will play music in the background, and pull you aside to dance at random times

also does that really hot thing where he stands behind you, reaches around to hold your hands, and basically has you in a cage while showing you how to do something

it's one of those spontaneous things to do, if there's nothing else to do, might as well make something to eat

firm believer in "if you have to eat to live, you might as well eat delicious foods" so he will always try out new things with you if its healthy and tasty

"bab look at this show" you called out from where you were sitting, there was a cooking show/food documentary on, and it was showing a special food. "it says this chicken has a secret sauce they dip it in"

he walked over to the tv and watched it for a couple seconds, thinking a bit.

"...wanna figure it out?"

"yes. I'll make the chicken if you figure out the sauce?"

"deal."

will you ever know if you got the secret sause? Nope, but you did figure out a chicken recipe that is good as hell

he probably writes down all the recipes you "invented" together for safekeeping and so he can return to it later, but he refuses to show it to anyone

Saiko Metori

as much as I love him, we all saw in that one episode how picky he is while eating, and is probably a bitch to please while cooking/baking

so after a lot of convincing, you got him to sit in the kitchen with you so he can watch you bake for the two of you

in reality, all you have to do is give the dish a fancy rich-sounding name, you just have to be really careful with what you say

like this 💀

you decided to bake for him today, baking is a lot more "by the book" than cooking, so you thought he would take a bit of comfort in knowing it was done in a professional way

"alright tori, so I think I'll make a heavy pastry made with fine cacao and extracts, baked into a rich dessert for a fine sweet palette"

"you're making brownies aren't you"

"🧍‍♂️"

Told you, you have to be as specific as possible

He does eventually get interested in what you're doing though, as he never really sees his personal chef cook, and wants to help you by the end

He really did enjoy it! It quickly became one of his favorite treats

But funny enough, no matter how many bakeries he tried or how many times his chef tried, they never tasted the same

(you put in special spices as your own little mark on the treat)

so he ends up having you over for more cooking dates

Which he really does enjoy btw

as a tsundere he will look all annoyed and probably call you a plebe, but these are his favorite types of dates

#saiko metori #saiko x reader #metori x reader #kuboyasu x reader #saiki x reader #teruhashi x reader #hairo x reader #saiki k hcs #kuboyasu hcs #hairo hcs #saiki hcs #saiko hcs #teruhashi hcs

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skinnyducky · 3 years

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good in bed // v.h.

Hey...how y’all doing? I have halfway recovered from my wisdom teeth surgery and I definitely was feeling a bit sad not posting and whatnot. But, here I am now, so I hope you enjoy this one. Pt. 3 to Party at Y/n’s is most likely coming Monday. And, Pt. 2 to Maneater is coming Wednesday (hopefully). Any who, hope you enjoy! Also, this is very much inspired by Dula Peep’s “Good in Bed.”

Word Count: 1336, edited

WARNING: mentions of sex, arguing, angst, language, and i think that’s it.

---------

The start of yours and Vinnie’s relationship was like ice cream on hot summer day. It was sweet, it was refreshing, and it was much needed. After being cheated on by your ex, you needed to find something to bring the love back…and that’s exactly what Vinnie did. The two of you had met after accidentally buying the same car. You bickered and fought over the vintage vehicle before he ultimately decided to let you keep it…but only if you gave him your number. You happily did so and long story short, that led to a beautiful relationship…or at least what was a beautiful relationship.

As the relationship went on, you found that the so-called “honeymoon phase” was really just a phase. For you and Vinnie, it lasted for a least a good two weeks. What started as late night conversations before bed shifted into heated debates and hate-filled goodnights. The butterflies that fluttered around had died, and now your stomach was overflowed with enraged hornets. You didn’t know what was the cause of your downfall, and you weren’t even sure that there was anything that could fix it.

Well…you knew one thing that definitely fixed it: sex. The term “angry sex” seemed like a myth. You thought people were just overhyping it…until you were actually living it. You remember the first time it happened; you were pissed that he didn’t show up to dinner with your parents, while he was pissed because you hadn’t stopped yelling at him for a good hour. The two of you argued for hours, and as an attempt to get you to stop, Vinnie grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto his bed. It was silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing from both of you. Next thing you know, the two of you are going at it.

Ever since then, that’s all you two did: fight and screw, then pretend like nothing ever happened. As nice as the sex was, it just was too toxic for you. You didn’t want to be stuck in an endless cycle and having to resort to sex to solve your problems. And also, you wanted Vinnie to know you for more than just your body. With that being said, you figured the solution to that was to communicate. Something you two did none of.

So, here you were in Vinnie’s room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to finish streaming. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You didn’t know how to talk about your feelings, it was completely foreign to you. Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

“…I love you guys, bye chat.”

Vinnie stopped streaming and turned around in his seat to face you. You pursed his lips and started fiddling with his thumbs. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“I think you know.” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Is this the talk? You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at the boy’s stupidity. “No, Vinnie…I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“I promise, I’m not. I just wanna try to communicate, y’know. Like other couples do.”

He shrugged. “Don’t we already do that?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call our exploration of each other’s bodies ‘communicating.’ Besides, you and I both know that our relationship isn’t the same as before. It’s like we’ve grown cold towards each other or something.”

“Is this because I forgot our anniversary?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You gave him a puzzled look for a minute, trying to figure out when your anniversary actually was. Had you forgot too? Damn, this relationship really was trash.

“Uhm, no…this isn’t about that. Although, we really need to mark our anniversary on our calendars.”

“Then what’s this about, Y/n?”

You sighed and stood up from your spot on his bed. You paced in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Vinnie…I’m tired. I’m tired of always arguing and then having angry sex…which is amazing, by the way.”

He squinted his eyes at you as he thought about what you said. “So…are you mad about the arguing or the sex?”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” you groaned. “I’m mad about all of it, Vin. I’m mad that we just can’t talk to each other. I’m mad that when we do have time together, we spend it arguing. I’m mad that the only way for us to enjoy each other’s company is to have sex. I’m just tired of it all.”

“Then, let’s just end the relationship.”

You stopped your pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “I just told you I didn’t wanna break up.”

Vinnie chuckled, “I know that Y/n, but if you’re really feeling that way…then just leave.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. You actually want to just break up? Aren’t you going to at least talk to me about what you’re feeling? Aren’t you gonna fight for us?”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling, Y/n?” Vinnie asked. You nodded, egging him to continue. “I’m feeling…very hungry right now. I want a fat burger and a fat fry with a fat shake to go along with it. That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. And if the relationship is already going to hell…why fight for it? I say let it die.”

He then proceeded to hop out of his seat and dance around his room, chanting “let it die, let it die…let it shrivel up and die” while clapping.

You just stood there with nothing to say. You couldn’t believe that he was taking this all as a joke. You just poured your entire heart to him, trying to fix your relationship, and he’s sitting here quoting The Lorax and acting like a child. At this point, you were sure that there was no hope for the two of you and you were fine with that. You weren’t going to be driven mad by this anymore.

“You’re a fucking joke.” You growled, picking up your keys off his bed. “Y’know, I wish we hadn’t met each other because I’d be way better off if I didn’t even know you.”

“That’s not saying a lot, babe. You’d probably still be with the same dickhead who cheated on you.”

You scoffed, feeling the hornets in your stomach get their stingers ready. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying I made your life better. You wouldn’t be who you are today if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d be stuck in here, playing video games and withering away if I hadn’t come along.”

Vinnie huffed, holding back a laugh. “At least I don’t have to deal with video games nagging at me all the time.”

“Jerk!” you yelled, rushing to his door. You stood in the doorway, turning around to look back at him. “I never want to see you again, you hear me? NEVER again, Vincent. You’re dead to me.”

Slamming the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway of the Hype House. But before you could go any further, something stopped you. A feeling of sadness washed over you and your anger subsided. The hornets that once threatened to pour out of you had now calmed down. At that moment, you felt your body tremble as sin known as lust flowed through your veins. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself from rushing back into Vinnie’s room and pouncing on him…but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

“Screw it,” you whispered.

You turned around and darted towards Vinnie’s room. Bursting through the door, you tackled him onto the bed and well…you know the rest. You knew going through this all over again was bad, that it was causing more damage to your relationship. It was definitely sad…but that’s what made you good in bed.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

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cozycottagetarot · 3 years

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Pick A Pile: How Can You Take Better Care of Yourself?

I did this reading a bit different from my others. It’s mainly based on impressions as I’m only using the images and any text on the cards at face value along with whatever else comes to me. So feedback would be appreciated. Another thing is the piles all have intertwining messages so if you feel drawn to two piles, then by all means I encourage you to check them both out.

Paid Readings (I’ll be updating them again)

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I asks that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

PILE 1

Tarot Cards: 7 of Cups, 8 of Wands, The Sun

Pile 1, the way you can take better care of yourself is by making a decision. With the 7 of Cups I see that you have all these opportunities being presented in front of you but you have no idea which one to go with. I get the impression from the cards that from postponing making a decision or choice, you’re starting to feel the brightness in other areas of your life dim. With the 8 of Wands and The Sun following however, I feel like once you make a decision, results and positive things will happen quickly, bringing you happiness. The Sun has a faint face depicted in it, so I feel like you don’t have to worry too much about unintended consequences. I see this as a sign you are being protected from unintended or unpleasant consequences as a result of your decision. Also, connecting with your inner child may be a way to help you make this decision.

The next cards that came out are: Protection (Call back your power. Cut the cords. Soul retrieval.) Soul Family (Call in your tribe. You don’t have to do it alone.) Anna, Grandmother of Jesus (Seeding the light, laying foundations. Divine plan.) The Ever-Unfolding Rose (Cracked open. It’s happening for you, not to you.)

With these cards I think some of you could be going through a 'dark night of the soul' (read: a very difficult time in your life). You may be feeling like somewhere along the line you’ve lost yourself or your direction as to where you’re heading next in life or what it is you truly desire (any Lucifer fans here because I hear Tom Ellis’s voice in my head haha). You may be asking yourself questions such as 'Why is this the way life is happening? Why me? Who am I even?' But even though it might seem unfair or lacking sense right now, keep in mind that whatever is going on is helping you in some format. Situations within reason of course, using your discernment here is best. It’s truly all about how you tell your story. Another thing is you don’t have to make these decisions on your own. Turn to your family and your friends for help/advice. If necessary, maybe you can seek professional help. If either or those things isn't really an option, you could always try taking some time to nurture yourself and journey inside to help you remember or figure out what’s important to you. When you make that effort to find/listen to yourself outside of the noise of everything else, I think that’s when you’ll find the information necessary to help make your decision.

Remaining Cards: The Hourglass Dolphin (46) — your achievement is only a matter of time. The Three Rhine Maidens (15) — love is a virtue that endure eternally.

The Hourglass Dolphin is all about finding balance between two aspects of your life, typically work and play. Dividing your time and remembering to put EXTRA care into taking care of your basic needs is another thing that’s going to help you find success. I feel like you are in a transitory phase and it really is only a matter of time before whatever darkness that may be clouding your life right now disappears.

The Three Rhine Mermaids talks about a phase in your life coming full circle, and once that happens your hearts desires are going to start materialising in your physical/the 3D.

The North Witch (23) — This card just kind of confirms or reiterates that with patience this dark phase is going to fade.

The Toad Witch (7) —This card talks about gaining wisdom from adversity. Also a secret admirer as well. There were messages of love laced through out the cards but they weren’t clear until now. Similarly, I think this will reflect in your life that after you’ve found stability once things have cleared up, you will find love as well.. or better yet, love will find you. Do keep in mind it might not be super quick… maybe Spring or Summer (depending on when you're reading this).

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Look good; feel good (put effort into looking the way you want), Believe In Yourself, Have a fruit (incorporate more fruits into your diet).

PILE 2

Hello Pile 2. The way for you to take better care of yourself right now is through doing what makes you happy.

Tarot Cards: Ace of Swords, The Sun, The Devil

I actually pulled the Ace of Swords last. Also before I started focusing on your pile while shuffling, the Four of Swords reversed came out.

Thinking of these two cards together, I think you need to pull back and ask yourself if what you’re doing is really the best thing for you. I feel like you guys could be in a really good place right now— at least at face value. The cards have darker backgrounds, except The Sun. I feel like whatever you are doing isn’t really sparking joy inside. Maybe it’s familial or peer pressure related? The life path you’re on right now seems ideal and fulfilling to everyone else, but somehow I feel like deep down inside it doesn’t feel that way. You may feel chained or held back as shown by The Devil. Looking at The Sun and The Devil, they came out together side by side. I feel like this is more family related meaning parents, parental figures or mentors. They may be trying to look out for you by telling you to study a certain topic or take a certain job because it’s safe, when what you truly want to do may be a little bit more risky. So even though you’re playing it safe right now and have things to celebrate, you may not be able to shake the that unsatisfied feeling inside.

The next cards that came out are: Warrior Woman (Have you answered your deepest calling?) Play (Have fun. Celebrate. Don’t be so serious.) Break The Chain (Ancestral patterns. Healing. Rewriting the future.) Transformation (Things are changing at a cellular level. Deep healing.)

All the figures in these cards look like they’re in their power. It makes me think you may be ignoring or avoiding stepping into the energy of your higher self. I kind of had the though fear of backlash pop into my head, and while it is a valid fear, I don’t feel like it’s something you have to worry about a lot. I feel like you need to schedule more time for yourself in general as well. You can’t ‘fight’ for other people all the time, you also have to ‘fight’ for you.

I’m just noticing something about the placement of the cards. Warrior Woman has a sword and is placed right next the the Ace of Swords. Break The Chain is right next to The Devil, and the sun is shining in Transformation and Play, in the same position as the one in The Sun… As I was saying, I feel like you need to just take a moment to connect with yourself. Ask yourself what is it you truly want and begin rewriting your future*.

*This is the part where I let it be known I need people to practice life coaching with so if you’re interested you can message me. 18 years and up only though.

Remaining Cards: The Siren (14) — In the treasure of a day, light is thrown on what could be tomorrow. The Stripped Dolphin (30) Good news, flowing through the ether waves will answer your prayers.

The Siren Is mostly about observation and not forcing connections. The Stripped Dolphin is about good things happening for you, especially by surprise. It’s also about new beginnings in any area of your life. However there’s also a message about not getting caught up in many opportunities, so if you were drawn to pile 1 as well, I see this as a sign to check out the pile as well.

The Silver Moon Witch (2) has a message of being able to see progress by the next full or new moon. However this card advises you to choose carefully when it’s the right time to go with the flow versus ‘swimming’ against the tide. Relating to above, journey inside yourself to figure out if you are taking the right course if action by choosing to stick with the path you’re on versus yelling plot twist and doing something different.

The Full Moon Witch (18) has two sides to it. On one hand you can expect ‘heartfelt’ plans coming to fruition, but on the other hand emotions may be running high and words that aren’t meant may be said. This another one of the moon phases cards, so you may find during the full moon you may have disagreements with your loved ones but once it starts to wane, disagreements may also reach a resolution. I think this relates to the The Silver Moon Witch card as well, so maybe before or during a full moon may not be the best time to bring up anything that may cause a disagreement?

Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Journal, Get Creative, Listen To Music (there may be messages in songs for you)

PILE 3

Pile 3, you guys have been giving me hell from the moment I sat down to pull cards for your reading. From focusing and interpreting to editing. Everything was a mess and I’m assuming you a significant part of your life maybe as well? Or your headspace at least.

Aside from my struggles with your reading, based on the cards, I see you need to focus on yourself.

Tarot Cards: The Chariot, The High Priestess, Queen of Wands reversed.

Starting with your Tarot in no particular order, you have The Chariot, The High Priestess and Queen of Wands reversed. The Queen of Wands is my ideal (you) card. When it’s reversed, I see it as a sign [you] are not embodying the energy of your highest self and/or something in your life is out of balance. Both The Chariot and The High Priestess have black and white polarities, so I see it more as you needing to put yourself back into balance. Something may feel hidden from you, though you’re not really sure what and you want to push forward but it’s just not really happening? On the bottom of the deck is the 9 of Swords which notes to fear, depression, anxiety, etc and is needing to release those emotions. Obviously it can be more complex than it sounds, but I’m hoping you get the idea. Brain-dump came to me. Maybe you need to do a brain-dump and survey/assess your ‘kingdom’ so you can flip that Queen of Wands energy around and allow your chariot to race onward. The next cards that came out are:

The Crumbling (What are you clinging on to?) —> Do you need to release anything? Material items, a goal, a belief, way of life, or maybe just the act of trying to have it all together?

Boundaries (Where do you need to establish better boundaries?) —> Do you need better boundaries with yourself? Habits? People? Enviroment? School/Career?

Share Your Voice (Come out of the cave. Persecution. Expression.) It’s time to step into the limelight, because the world is your stage. Maybe you’ve been hanging back and suppressing who you truly are, but now it’s time to step forward into a new role… a you role. You don’t have to go from stand in actor to lead role over night, but do brainstorm and take baby steps daily to get there.

Keepers Of The Earth (You are not alone. Ancient ancestors stand beside you.) Take the meaning as you will, but I see it as a message to look for support in unexpected places. Maybe it’s an online community of people who can relate to you. Maybe it’s a book, article or video. Who knows, it could even be a friend or family member you didn’t think could relate or help you out. Remaining Cards: The Kraken (38) — Your success and happiness lie within you. The Great Sea Monster (37) — To accomplish you dream plan and believe.

The main theme of The Kraken is release. Good fortune/luck will come to you by delving into your subconscious mind to free the conscious. Returning to nature and the things that bring you inner joy. Good fortune coming in small waves which eventually grow into big ones.

The Great Sea Monster is about taking action and again, freeing your conscious mind by looking into your unconscious mind. Also there is more than one way to solve a dilemma, you just have to search the right way. The Immortal Witch (4) — new beginnings are happening for you, and your desires are on their way to you although it might not appear so currently. (Kind of like planting a seed. It’s growing though we can’t see it until it burst through the soil). The Fairy Ring Witch (9) — mental and physical communication. Connecting with or making friends with similar skills or talents. Self Care Activities Ideas (Homemade deck): Tend to yourself, Slow and steady, Get creative, Read a book (maybe a self help book relevant to what you're going through).

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #pick a pile reading #pac #pac reading #ariesmoontarot

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

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Bakugou’s Birthday Bash Masterlist 2021 (My Works)

Fanart credit: @/t1k2h2r1 on Twitter

For Bakugou’s Birthday Bash Collab hosted by: @phasmwrites, @katsukikitten, @bakugotrashpanda, @lady-bakuhoe, @jodrawssmut, @ramen-rambles. Ones that contain smut are marked properly, and those are 18+ only.

Here’s the masterlist that has everyone else’s pieces!!

A/N: @katsukis-sad-angel, all of these are dedicated to you. i was driven to write these for you, partly because i know Bakugou’s your favorite and also because i wanted to show my appreciation for all your kind words and support ever since i started posting my stuff on here, so i figured a fic or two was in order to express my thanks but my ideas sort of got away from me. Bakugou’s really hard for me to write so he might be not the best written but! i hope you enjoy nonetheless 🥰!!

These were all written in the past month and edited rather quick to make the deadline for this, so I apologize for any spelling errors you may find.

[In the process of editing and proofreading as of May 17th; completed on May 31st].

complete word count in this collection: 127k

Vulnerability and Second Chances (Barbarian King!Bakugou x Omega!Reader) feat. Dragon!Kirishima

You are Bakugou’s birthday gift from the League of Outcasts given in spite to the Barbarian King. Instead of kicking you out when he finds out you’ve been lured here on purpose, he takes you in. He’s not supposed to fall in love with you. Love is weak. The war with the League is a long time coming, but when it finally comes time to put Shigaraki in the ground, will Bakugou’s strength be enough? Or will the king cobra’s forces overwhelm his own? (46.9k)

[18+] Red-Hot Jealousy (Bakugou x Reader) feat. Shinsou *SMUT*

Childhood friends separated in primary school, you and Bakugou are reunited at UA. But by then, he has a girlfriend and Shinsou is your best friend. Except... you’ve been misinformed. While Shinsou keeps trying to tell you that King Explosion Murder isn’t actually dating Pinky like you think, Bakugou has to get over his jealousy if he ever hopes to win you over and tell you how he really feels. (15.2k)

Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer!Metal Arm!Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you? (7.8k)

A Soft Confession Draped in Ivory and Silk (Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Pro-Hero!Reader)

It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated UA. This was supposed to be a trouble-free reunion, except your reservations got screwed up and now you have to room with someone else while you're staying for the entirety of the trip. The weird thing is, everyone seems to have some kind of excuse as to why they can't let you sleepover in their room for the night. So, you decide on Bakugou's, the only person who can't say no because he hasn't arrived yet. But your actions have consequences and now you need to deal with all the feelings that you've been frantically suppressing as they resurface. (19.2k)

[18+] Guns and Roses (Mafia Boss!Bakugou x Escort!Dancer!Reader) *SMUT*

You’re just trying to make a living and get by. When Todoroki hooks you up with a job at Aizawa’s establishment to dance, you don’t hesitate to take it. But when a mysterious group of four men ask for your company one fine night, you can’t find it in yourself to say no to a particular ash-blond’s advances. (5.3k)

Ruined Plans (Boyfriend!Soft!Bakugou x Reader)

You get sick on the day of Bakugou’s birthday and he’s forced to take care of you. He has a hard time convincing you that it’s not a chore like you are led to believe but this circumstance opens up the window of opportunity for him to approach you with an issue he’s had a long time with your place. And it’s time to settle it once and for all. (2.2k)

Vintage Books and Midnight Promises (Tattooed!Bakugou x Bookworm!Reader) Modern!AU

Your days are brightened by the appearance of Eijirou and Izuku but you don’t recognize the tattooed man who accompanied the two children into your bookshop one day. But he finds his way into your heart and before you can stop it, you’re already in too deep for the man with tattoos that rippled like the purest form of water and smelled like blueberries hand-picked on the warmest day. (9.8k)

[18+] You Can’t Help Who You Love (Sub!Bakugou x Switch!Reader x Dom!Kirishima) *SMUT*

Bakugou’s birthday gift from you is a threesome with his best friend Kirishima when he lets it slip that he likes to be fucked in the ass. But something comes up and present a bigger problem than the one he’s currently got going on down there and with reassuring words and soothing touches, you pull the pieces together to understand what’s really going on. (5.9k)

Pure Affections Wrapped Up in a Dark Green Bow (Husband!Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Wife!Reader)

You had been married to Bakugou for a couple years now and you had a special present for him. But when he gets home, it’s clear that he hasn’t had the best day. You’re there, steady and strong for him to lean on for support and he does until he’s capable of standing on his own again. This is what love looks like. (6k)

[18+] Four is Better Than Two (TodoBakuDeku x Reader) *SMUT*

Due to your quirk, Bakugou’s stuck in the wall. Midoriya and Todoroki decide to fuck him to free him. (4.9k)

[18+] Birthday Cuckholding (Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou) *SMUT*

Bakugou expresses his interest in cuckholding one day when he’s drunk. It’s your job to make his fantasy come true when Todoroki agrees to fuck you in front of your boyfriend. (1.3k)

She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his. (3.2k)

#bakugou birthday bash #bakugou x reader oneshots #masterlist

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goodnightmemes · 3 years

Text

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

Lines taken from 2x07-2x12 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part one.

❛ I thrive on chaos. But this is good, too. ❜

❛ I had to do a little creative problem-solving at someone else's expense. ❜

❛ Pardon my tits. ❜

❛ Are you trying to fuck her or set her on fire? ❜

❛ Sometimes the truth speaks from a peaceful place. It's taken me a long time to find that place, but I think I have, and it's telling me you're not the right one for me. I'm so sorry. ❜

❛ Is that what I am? Clean? 'cause I don't feel that way at all. ❜

❛ No, I won't do that. I won't let you turn me into you. ❜

❛ Hope you don't expect me to comment on that so you can record it on your hidden tape recorder. I wasn't born yesterday. ❜

❛ Your past is a bigger mystery than fucking Jimmy Hoffa. ❜

❛ No matter what you try, no matter when, no matter how hard you work, I'll always be a step ahead of you for one simple reason. I own you. ❜

❛ When I'm alone and it's quiet, I get scared shitless, like I start hearing what's really going on inside. ❜

❛ 'Cause when you're around, I kind of feel like I can deal with anything, you know? ❜

❛ I've always worked best in the shadows, and that's where I have to stay. ❜

❛ You can't go back. You know that. ❜

❛ You are not allowed to talk about anyone I date as long as you're seeing little Miss "pardon my tits." ❜

❛ She is obviously a vampire. A gross english-titty vampire. ❜

❛ Can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty, and...I have a very filthy mind. ❜

❛ Jesus Christ. They sell anyone a gun in Florida, won't they? ❜

❛ That man. He wasn't trying to rob you. He was trying to kill you. ❜

❛ Nothing you could do,___, would scare me. ❜

❛ Whatever comes, we'll get through this together. I'm not leaving your side. ❜

❛ I need to embrace who I am, who I've always been. ❜

❛ It's like I've been living underwater, holding my breath, and now I can finally breathe. ❜

❛ ___ almost had me believing it was possible to change, to become something else, as if that ever really happens. I've always known what I am. ❜

❛ I'm finding it's best to accept things you can't change, you know? ❜

❛ Is this the monster that you keep telling me about? ❜

❛ Trust me, when you meet the monster, you'll know. ❜

❛ Nice. My subconscious isn't even bothering with symbolism. ❜

❛ I feel...such regret, which is rare for me. But not that I don't mess up. I do...just never so stupendously. ❜

❛ If they're looking for proof, they won't find it. Not here at least. ❜

❛ Then maybe you should come with us, because who knows what secrets will come ❜ pouring out of me once the drinks start flowing. ❜

❛ I'm done with it and you. Did I not make that clear last night? ❜

❛ Those friends of yours, they didn't even know you. They just see the mask, but I see it all. ❜

❛ Can't live with her. Can't kill her. ❜

❛ Fuck! I'm talking about my feelings. What the fuck is your problem? ❜

❛ I've always sensed there was something... off about him. Like he's hiding in plain sight. ❜

❛ If you got in the middle of this and you got hurt… ❜

❛ The only way I can help you is if you turn yourself in. ❜

❛ Don't you disappear on me. ❜

❛ I want you to know that you meant a lot to me, more than you know, and... I just want to thank you for that. ❜

❛ If I never see her again, it'll be too soon. ❜

❛ Sleep would be nice, but there's too much to do. ❜

❛ Okay, I may be sleeping with him, but it doesn't mean he tells me shit or listens to me about anything, so stop asking! ❜

❛ That's right, motherfucker! It's over. ❜

❛ I knew there was something with you. But this shit? ❜

❛ What can I say? You were right about me. I never held it against you. I don't now. ❜

❛ It's a graze wound. Minor tissue abrasion. No hemorrhage along the bullet track. Sorry. I think I'm gonna live. ❜

❛ If you're not gonna let me go, then kill me now. Just get it over with. ❜

❛ You're a killer. I catch killers. ❜

❛ So it's okay to take a life as long as you get a paycheck for it? ❜

❛ Either kill me or set me free. ❜

❛ Taking a life is one thing, but the care and feeding of it is another. ❜

❛ I'm generally confused most of the time. ❜

❛ You ever care about anyone? Then you shouldn't have to ask. 'Cause when you care about someone, you do what you have to do. ❜

❛ I remember when life was easy, when the only question I worried about was "who's next?" Now it's: "How can I dodge my protective detail? "What should I do with my hostage?" These are not easy questions. ❜

❛ It's not about what I think. It's all about the evidence. ❜

❛ Hair-pulling may not be manly, but it's very effective. ❜

❛ If he wanted me dead, I'd be dead by now. ❜

❛ You are the only one I can count on, jackass. ❜

❛ It puts a pit in my stomach that I can only interpret as... sadness. ❜

❛ You working on an exit strategy? I'm afraid that's not gonna happen. ❜

❛ How come there's never a circus when you need one? ❜

❛ What was that shit last night? Some kind of fucking scare tactic? ❜

❛ Don't test me. I could have killed you. I didn't. ❜

❛ You're actually angry. I've never seen you angry. This is good. ❜

❛ I should warn you. You can't play on my feelings. I don't have any. ❜

❛ It's a tough job. It can wear on even the best of us. ❜

❛ I yell a lot...and bitch and complain, and I keep expecting people to guess what I want, but I never really say it. ❜

❛ And that was exciting, you know? The not knowing. What might happen, what could be. It was all possibility. ❜

❛ Your life is going to rest in the hands of the criminal justice system you put all your faith in. I wish you the best of luck. ❜

❛ You need help. Let me help you. ❜

❛ You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill this man! ❜

❛ Sorry it had to go down like this. But there really was no other way. ❜

❛ Stay away. Just stay away from me. ❜

❛ Did you happen to be stuffing a human leg into a garbage bag at that point? ❜

❛ There's that anger again. You got to let that out. ❜

❛ You're spinning. Let me help you. It's only a matter of time before you'll hurt someone else. ❜

❛ Take responsibility for who you are. ❜

❛ Why can't you just let me go? ❜

❛ If I got to choose a person... A real person... to be like, out of anyone, it'd be you. ❜

❛ Who joined who in the shower this morning? ❜

❛ For such a neat monster, I'm making an awfully big mess. ❜

❛ Maybe this is how evil works. Destroying everything it touches. ❜

❛ I've been held prisoner in a cabin for two fucking days. Fucking hellhole. ❜

❛ After everything we've been through lately, I just want... to be together with you guys. ❜

❛ You told me to take responsibility for what I am. You were right. ❜

❛ I can't live in this house of cards anymore, waiting for it all to fall down. I need to do something, you know? ❜

❛ If I do this, I need a day to get my affairs in order. ❜

❛ Mention that when they interview you for the story of my life. ❜

❛ Don't leave me in this cage, anything could happen. ❜

❛ I lie to everyone I know... except my victims right before I kill them. It's hard to establish much of a rapport there. ❜

❛ Sorry about the cage. ❜

❛ I've always been curious to try. Do you have any weed? ❜

❛ Love's a battlefield. Or in your case, a restraining order. ❜

❛ When a pretty girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, we're powerless to resist. ❜

❛ I met with a lawyer yesterday. He helped me prepare a living trust that gives you control of all my assets in the event of my death or... certain other situations. ❜

❛ God. Go away. This is creepy. ❜

❛ I'm free tonight, you wanna stop by? We'll have beer, a couple of steaks? I wanna talk to you about something. ❜

❛ I just need you to know that... you and the kids are very important to me. No matter what happens, I want you to always know that. ❜

❛ I know I've been taking things slow with us, but it's not because I don't have feelings for you. It's more like I have too many feelings, and I just wanna make sure to get it right. ❜

❛ I want you gone. Tonight. ❜

❛ I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight until now. ❜

❛ Lately, I was starting to feel like I had my head pretty far up my ass. ❜

❛ You decide who you are, who you want to be...and you hold onto that and ride it out. ❜

❛ I need some help! Just open the door! I'm being held captive. ❜

❛ Damn, it's good to see another face. I never thought I would. ❜

❛ When something beyond reason happens, it turns skeptics into believers. ❜

❛ If you believe that God makes miracles, you have to wonder if Satan has a few up his sleeve. ❜

❛ I can't exactly feel their pain, but I can appreciate it. ❜

❛ I kinda forgot who I was. I got it straight now. ❜

❛ The term is homicidal maniac. Not that I'm judging. ❜

❛ A public place. You thought I was gonna...That I would slip my needle into your neck? ❜

❛ You're afraid of me now, aren't you? ❜

❛ You're emotionally color-blind. You use the right words, you pantomime the right behavior, but feelings never come to pass. ❜

❛ You know the dictionary definition of emotions: longing, joy, sorrow...You have no idea of what any of those things actually feel like. ❜

❛ I created a monster of my own. ❜

❛ What did you do to make her so pathetically crazy for you? Does your dick dance? ❜

❛ What're we doing home in the middle of the day? She asked, hoping for sex. ❜

❛ Why? Why do I have to make up my mind? ❜

❛ I've never put much weight onto the idea of a higher power. But if I didn't know better, I'd have to believe that some force out there wants me to keep doing what I'm doing. ❜

❛ As it turns out, nobody mourns the wicked. ❜

❛ Am I evil? Am I good? I'm done asking those questions. I don't have the answers. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #inbox meme #ask meme #rp memes #*tv #*dexter #*mine

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

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if i forgot you please lmk!

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)

series masterlist

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 6k

warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink

note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes

Six months later...

“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”

You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”

“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”

“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.

“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”

“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.

“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.

“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”

“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”

“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.

“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”

She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”

“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.

“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”

“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”

“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”

You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.

After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.

“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.

“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.

“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”

“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”

“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”

“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”

“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.

“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”

“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”

You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.

“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.

"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.

"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.

“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”

“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.

“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”

“I think so, too, dear.”

Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.

Week 1, Day 1: Greetings

Hello Salut

Goodbye La revedere

Thank you Mulțumesc

You’re welcome Cu plăcere

Good morning Bună dimineata

Good afternoon Bună ziua

Good evening Bună seara

Good night Noapte bună

You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.

How are you? Ce mai faci

I love you Te iubesc

“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.

Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.

Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.

You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.

Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.

You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.

You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.

After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.

Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.

A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.

With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.

The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.

You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.

“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”

Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.

A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.

“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.

“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.

“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”

She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.

“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”

“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”

You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.

“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.

“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”

You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”

She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.

“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”

You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.

You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.

In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.

The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”

“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.

It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.

“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”

“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.

“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.

“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.

As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.

“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”

“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.

“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”

“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”

So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.

“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”

“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.

“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”

“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.

��And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”

“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”

The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”

“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.

“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”

“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.

“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”

“Wow,” you smiled.

“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.

“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”

Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.

“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.

“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.

“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.

“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.

“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”

He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”

But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.

Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.

Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.

And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.

“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”

His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.

He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.

But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *

“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”

You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.

“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.

The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”

Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.

“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”

You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.

“Marry me?” he asked softly.

“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”

He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.

It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.

He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.

Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.

Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.

You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.

Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.

Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.

And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.

As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.

He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.

It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.

“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”

He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.

“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.

It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.

You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.

“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”

“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”

Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.

You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.

His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.

In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.

“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.

“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.

“Come in here, please…”

You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”

You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.

“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”

You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”

“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.

Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”

“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”

You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.

“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.

He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.

“Can I ask you something?”

He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”

“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.

“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.

You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”

“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”

“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”

He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”

You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”

You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.

“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”

“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.

He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”

You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”

“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.

“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”

“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”

“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.

He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.

sfarsit; the end

#sebastian stan x reader

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