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#we've known. we've known for /years/ this would happen
dear-ao3 · 2 days
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Question for the mods....
HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???
Like what???
How??
I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol
Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)
I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.
/gen /lh /nf /pos
2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.
during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.
during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.
come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.
we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).
and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.
katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:
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we've always been like this lol
and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:
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every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)
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lilacmingi · 3 days
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THROUGH THICK AND THIN
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human!fem reader
Word count: 2,280
Note: This is from my first BTS imagines book on Wattpad from 2018. This version is the rewritten 2024 version! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! WOW
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It was early afternoon and you and your best friend, Jungkook, were at your place sitting on the couch watching a movie together. The film of choice was a vampire movie—one of your favorites. Your eyes were glued to the screen, knowing exactly what was about to happen, as the both of you had seen the movie roughly a hundred times.
Someone (a vampire) was about to jump out at the main character, you both saw it coming. At the same moment the person jumped out in the film, Jungkook grabbed you and shouted loudly causing you to yelp in response.
The force from his sudden and lighthearted attack caused you to fall over onto your back, thankful that you were on the couch.
Jungkook hovered over you with a mischievous grin, giving you no time to react as he pretended to bite your neck by making playful growling sounds and nuzzling his nose against your skin.
"Jungkook stop!" You begged through giggles, the ticklish sensation making it hard to speak.
"I'm a vampire!" He exclaimed, continuing to act silly.
You were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe, making minimal effort to stop him due to all your squirming. After a few attempts, you were finally able to push him away a little. He took that as a sign to stop and propped himself up to gaze down at you, the movie long forgotten.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?" He asked, his tone lighthearted.
"Hypothetically?"
"Of course."
You huffed out a light chuckle, amused by his question and always up for a little theoretical discussion about things like that.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
He grinned.
"But vampires aren't real, so I know you're not one."
His smile faltered a bit. "Yeah. They're not, are they?"
"But if they were, I wouldn't be bothered."
His smile returned.
He leaned down and gave you a light kiss on your forehead. Affectionate gestures like that weren't uncommon in your friendship, however, they didn't help your crush on Jungkook. As much as you had wanted to confess your feelings, you were also afraid that you were misinterpreting the gestures. Some people are just very affectionate, though you couldn't really recall anyone you knew that platonically kissed their friends.
"Do you like me or something?" The question was asked teasingly and in a playful manner, but you were hoping to get a serious response.
"What?" He asked, surprise lacing his tone.
"Well, you're always giving me little kisses on my face. Do you like me?" You tried to keep your tone light, playing it off as if you were just teasing him.
His expression changed and his eyes avoided yours. "Well..." He trailed off.
The mood shifted, turning more serious.
"Don't be afraid to be honest with me, Jungkook. We've known each other for three years." You encouraged him.
"Yes." He sighed, his eyes closing as if to avoid seeing your reaction.
"I knew it!"
"Y/n, don't embarrass me about it." He huffed.
"Why should you feel embarrassed? I feel the same way about you."
"You feel the same way?"
"Was it not obvious? I let you give me kisses all the time and cuddle with me. I don't ever push you away or tell you to stop. Could you not take a hint?"
"No?" He said it like a question.
"You big goober." You giggled and delivered a light smack to his shoulder.
"I'm not a goober." He defended through laughter. "I just wasn't sure how you felt. That's all."
Your joint laughter soon faded and the room went completely silent, the atmosphere changing in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stared down at you with his big and innocent-looking doe eyes that never failed to make your heart leap. He gulped nervously.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked.
"You kiss me all the ti-"
"On the lips." He specified.
The beating of your heart sped up at his request, only managing to utter a meek, "Yeah."
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you softly, being very gentle and almost hesitant in his actions at first. Only when you reciprocated did he pick up the pace, pressing his lips closer to yours and kissing you harder. What you were experiencing in that moment was nothing like you had ever imagined (and you did imagine it... many times). Raven strands of Jungkook's lengthy hair caressed your forehead as they fell, untucking themselves from behind his heavily pierced ears. The faint ticklish sensation paired with the feeling of his lips moving against your own and his hand that had found its way to your waist was a combination that made your head spin.
Bringing your hands up to his luscious hair, you slid your fingers between the layers of wavy tendrils, playing with his locks. He seemed to like that, as he released a mix between a groan and a sigh against your lips that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. It was after that he began to get rougher. His hands gripped your waist and then one of your thighs, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. The pace of his breathing got heavier and you could've sworn you heard a faint growl from the back of his throat.
He pulled away for only a moment, reattaching his lips to your jawline, his piercing dragging against your skin making your eyelids flutter. He placed hot kisses down the side of your neck where he started nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands went back to squeezing your waist, the inhuman grip making you wince.
As much as you enjoyed the moment, it was now getting to a point where it was no longer enjoyable for you and his intensity was making you nervous.
"J-Jungkook." You didn't mean to stutter, but things were heating up very fast and he didn't seem to realize how uncomfortable you were.
He nipped harshly at your neck, making you release a small squeak of surprise.
"Jungkook!"
As if your voice had broke through an invisible barrier, Jungkook snapped out of his daze and pulled away. He was breathing so heavily his shoulders were heaving up and down. His eyes were wide with fear as if he realized he was about to do something terrible.
He looked scared.
"What was that all about?" You inquired.
"I-I have to go." He scrambled off you and went to grab his keys.
"Jungkook-"
"I need to go right now, Y/n." His voice was firm as he spoke, walking out of your apartment without another word or even an explanation.
You sat there dumbfounded.
The door to your apartment slammed shut and just like that, you were left a confused and flustered mess on the couch.
He was in such a hurry to leave, barely managing to speak without stumbling over his words, it had you worried.
Was it something you did? Did he regret kissing you?
The longer you sat on the couch, stewing in your anxious thoughts, the worse you felt. It got to a point where it became unbearable and you found yourself reaching for your phone.
You
If I did something wrong, I'm sorry
You sighed, leaning your head back on the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling, memorizing the texture while worrisome thoughts flooded your mind once again.
After sitting for an unknown amount of time, you decided to go check on Jungkook in person. He hadn't responded to your text and it was beginning to worry you. If you had somehow done something to make him uncomfortable, you wanted to know and you wanted it taken care of right away. The both of you had been through thick and thin together. Good times and bad times. And if something was bothering either one of you, you talked about it.
The first place you drove to was a nearby park, a place where the both of you liked spending time at, but Jungkook was nowhere to be found. If he needed to clear his head, you assumed he would've been there. The only other place he could possibly be was home.
It didn't take long for you to arrive at his apartment building since he lived nearby. You hastened inside and went straight to his floor.
When you arrived at his front door, you didn't bother knocking. The both of you had been friends for years and neither of you usually knocked when you visited each other.
You stepped inside and saw Jungkook's keys lying on the floor along with the glass dish that usually held them. The bowl looked as if it had been knocked over and a huge piece was broken off of it.
Oh no.
Your first thought was that he was hurt, or maybe someone had broken in. You hoped it was neither.
"Jungkook?" You called out.
"Y/n?" His startled voice came from the kitchen.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He answered frantically.
"The glass dish by your door is broken. I thought you cut yourself."
"No. I'm fine."
You proceeded towards the kitchen, only for him to speak up when he heard you approaching the entryway.
"Don't come in here!"
"Why not?"
"I-uh I lied. I did cut myself. Sorry. I didn't want you to worry about me."
"I can help if you want." You responded, stepping into the kitchen.
"No please don-" Jungkook tried to stop you, but before he could finish his sentence, you were already standing in the doorway.
What you had expected to see was nowhere near the sight you were met with.
Jungkook's beautiful and captivating rich brown eyes were a deep shade of red, his mouth smeared with blood that matched his crimson irises. As if that wasn't jarring enough, you spotted two sharp fangs poking out of his mouth, which hung slightly agape in shock.
"Y/n. Don't freak out."
"You're a..." The sentence went unfinished, as your voice was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned to even utter the word that floated about in your head.
"Please don't be scared."
Jungkook took a step towards you, but you instinctively took one back, your actions making him frown.
Too overwhelmed, you spun around and took off towards the front door, jerking it open and bolting out as fast as you could.
You didn't get very far when your legs slowed and you came to a complete stop in the hallway as your rational thinking finally kicked in. What were you doing?
Jungkook's words from earlier that night replayed in your head.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?"
Your expression fell into one of disappointment, your heart sinking. It wasn't just a silly question. He was being serious when he asked you that.
Your words came to the forefront of your mind, hitting you like a knife to the chest.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
Why were you running away? What you said to him earlier was true, though you assumed the question was theoretical. Still, your answer was genuine. And yet, here you are standing in the hallway of his apartment building ready to flee like a scared animal.
Not only that, but it was clear Jungkook didn't want you to see him like that. He tried to stop you from coming into the kitchen and yet, you ignored him. If only you had listened. Then again, you thought he was hurt. You were worried. How were you supposed to know he was only trying to hide his identity from you?
There was no time for overthinking, you had to make things right.
Spinning around on your heel, you hurried back inside Jungkook's apartment.
When you found him, he was leaned over the kitchen counter, sniffling. His head shot up when he heard you enter the room.
"Y/n?" Your name was uttered weakly.
Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to return.
The blood had been cleaned from around his mouth and his appearance had returned to normal.
"I'm sorry." Your apology came out in a pathetically feeble voice, your jaw clenching to stop the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes.
Wasting no time, you ran up and hugged him as tightly as you possibly could. He wrapped his arms around you, relaxing in your hold as a sense of relief washed over him like a soothing wave.
"You asked me what I would think if you were actually a vampire. I answered honestly, though I thought you were just asking silly hypothetical questions. Now I see why you asked it in the first place." You sighed. "I'm really sorry for running away. I was caught off guard and unable to process everything."
"It's okay. That's completely understandable. Besides, I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you."
You pulled back and looked at him, gently wiping his cheeks where he had been crying.
"Hey. Through thick and thin. Remember?"
He nodded.
"So... we confessed to each other earlier. Does that mean I'm dating a vampire?"
Jungkook chuckled. "I suppose it does. As long as you're okay with that."
"Are you kidding? I'm more than okay with it."
He grinned at your response, swiftly sweeping you into his arms.
"What do you say we pick up where we left off earlier?"
"I like the sound of that." You giggled as he attached his lips to yours and carried you off to his room.
Jimin ♱ Yoongi ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin [COMING SOON]
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Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way
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🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny
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bookwyrminspiration · 10 months
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i've been trying very hard to convince myself to be a sokeefe girlie (<- is not a girl) or even just sokeefe neutral but the more I try the more my brain digs its heels in it's determined to be miffed about this whole situation (sokeefe) and grumble about it
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origami-butterfly · 9 days
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It's been a tough day guys. The guy I thought was my rival actually thinks a different guy is his rival. And the different guy thinks of me as his rival.
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smilingperformer · 6 months
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Btw.
TPCi just silently switched Horizons dub date from 2023 to "coming soon" in the last news post that mentioned it? I think it was that lol.
Makes me wonder what the issue is this time.
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n0ct0urn1quet · 1 year
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hgonesly at this point i really do wish i could just say Fuck It and disappear off the face of the earth for a little bit bc honestly . i donot want to be alive
#2023 off to a banger start for me (got into an argument with my mom on new years about her bf reminding me of my abusive dad#and havent had peace or a good nights sleep since!!!!!!!!!!!)#i am absolutely fucking miserable and i just donot want to Do It anymore#i hate this house i hate the people i live with i hate this world and i hate everything thats happening to jme but i cant do anytihing#i cant do anything to Fix Anything i cant do anything abt my problems theres just so much Wrong With Me that i dont know how to fix#i dont know if i CAN fix most of the issues i have. i have so much ptsd and trauma from so many different things and its all just. hghg#and i want so badly to just let it out and talk to the people Around Me about it bc it is Serious and i shouldnt be just not talking about#it but. i just cant bring myself to Do That. i am constantly afraid that the people around me will be angry with me if i even so much as#speak up about the things that make me upset and its not their fault and its no ones fault but my own and i just dont know what to Do#im scared of confrontation and im worried that if i try to talk about it its gonna lead to an argument!!! i know it wouldnt but im terrifed#so id rather just not talk about it. which then leads to the problem not getting resolved because. fuck man im sure the people around me#know that somethings up but i never bring it up so therefore they never find out and it gets swept under the rug like all my other issues#i pride myself on being good at being emotional and being open but in reality i am emotional. yes. but not at all good at being open#ive never been good at it and i feel so BAD because like. yes i love you. yes i trust you and i know you would never ever be mad at me#for just talking about my feelings. i know this and i love you for it. but im so bad at conveying that. even though i trust you with mylife#im just bad at opening up. it does not matter how long we've known each other its just such a struggle for me to Be Open to anyone#of course its not much better that im coming to tumblr and puttign this here for 100+ people to see but just. i dont know#im mentally unstable ive never had good coping mechanisms and im the only person awake and everyone else that i usually vent to is asleep#so all my thoughts just get piled up into one messy little ball and it gets thrown to tumblr because i need somewhere to put them#im sorry. im exhausted. its been a long week and i wish i could just hybernate for the rest of the month and not interact with anyone#i just wish i could mvoe out and live with my gf and our cat. that is all i want and that is the only thing that would fix me
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Yall wanna hear about smth? good im gonna rant in the tags anyway
#so :)) my favorite animal hands down is orcas#i happen to live on the east coast. aka like the ONE place in the world where orcas dont like to hang out in#my family has taken a few big vacations to maine over the years and we're going again this year#we also went to the very edge of Canada and this year we're gonna spend more time in Canada#also side note...... every time we've gone to maine we've gone on at least one whale watching trips to see humpbacks#and we have NEVER ONCE SEEN A HUMPBACK. weve seen a minke whale a basking shark a sun fish like 100 dolphins and a million seals#but no humpbacks 😭 but that's why we've been so many times they guarantee that you'll see them so we've only paid for tickets once#anyway. FUN FACT. there is ONE singular loner orca who regularly visits the new england area#his name is old thom :) he's approx 30 feet long :)#from what ive read it seems like he comes down here between may-november and hes seen almost every year#sometimes he hangs out with white sided dolphins which is really interesting bc orcas have been known to eat dolphins#and hes never been seen with another orca which is veryyyyyy uncommon#well. hes been seen in the EXACT. WATER. that we RODE A FERRY THROUGH to get from maine to Canada#he was seen near boston LIKE A MONTH??? before we were in Boston#his whole route is like. the exact waters ive been on or near multiple times.#AND WE'RE GOING BACK THIS YEAR.#I NEED TO SEE HIM!!!!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!!! I WOULD SOB#so yeah. fun facts :) everyone send good vibes for me to see old thom in maine this year 😡#gotta go back to work now bye love yall
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esyra · 6 months
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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angelltheninth · 1 month
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What if Alastor + "will you be mine?"
I would be his!
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, slight power imbalance, marriage proposal, kissing, soul deal
Word count: 0.5k
A/N: Would you say yes to Alastor?
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9. "Will you be mine?"
While not particularly touchy Alastor did have his moments of romance and affection. Although tonight was highly suspicious, even for him. Never the most trustworthy sort, that boyfriend of yours, always scheming behind the scenes for something or other. You were no exception to those schemes.
"I know you're planning something, Al, I can tell by the way you're looking at me." His fingers tapped against the table at your accusation, the smooth song suddenly broken by an almost deafening snapping of strings. "Alastor? What are you planning?"
He could never look innocent, even when he was innocent he was still a suspect. This suited him, it meant that the Radio Demon always got front row seats to any and all drama in the Hotel. "Since you're onto me darling I suppose I could do this now. A shame however, as I had a whole song and speech ready for this."
With a snap of his fingers the mood in the room shifted. From a warm red and orange glow to an eerie green. His shadow demons retracted back below his feet as he set his microphone aside and walked over to your side of the table. His hand dragged and left scratches in the once smooth wooden table. Normal people would run to save their souls under these circumstances.
You weren't normal people, you were Alastor's girlfriend.
"Darling, we've spent the last 10 years together. In that time we've had... a long distance relationship because of circumstances outside of my control." Radio static pierced your ears for a moment, "Regardless both you and I have remained faithful to each other. I value your love and your loyalty."
Alastor kissed your hand and immediately went down on one knee, letting his intentions be known. "Al..." You barely choked back a sob.
"Will you be mine?" Alastor presented you with a red box, and a pretty obsidian and ruby ring. Despite his wide grin you could see by the way his ears and tail twitched, that he was nervous.
You also caught onto the wording of his question. Be his, not his wife, not his partner, be his.
No wonder the mood in the room felt so different from before. It wasn't the light, it wasn't the adrenaline that was making it hard for you to breathe, but the realization that what Alastor was asking for was not just for you to marry him and stay by his side, but your very soul to be his.
"I'll be yours." Alastor's grin got impossibly wider as he slid the ring on your ring finger, his magic wrapping around you both, cold and then warm and then cold again. It didn't happen but your brain registered a biting pain from the ring, as if it was biting down on your finger. Ever the perceptive one Alastor saw your frown.
"Thank you for trusting me with your soul, darling. I promise I'll take good care of it." He didn't mention taking care of you and as he pulled you in for a kiss all the cold left your body, you were safe with him, despite no longer owning your soul, you knew nothing could touch you.
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appleblueberry-pie · 1 month
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Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's
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A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.
SCENARIO:
"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."
You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.
"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."
You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.
"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."
YANDERE REACTIONS:
Sukuna:
Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?
He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.
He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.
Kento:
Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.
But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.
"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.
Suguru:
"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.
"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?
"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.
"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.
Choso:
Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.
He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.
Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.
He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.
He hates this park.
"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"
Toji:
Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.
No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.
You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.
He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.
Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.
Satoru:
Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.
He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."
Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.
He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.
"Satoru??"
He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.
He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.
"Satoru!"
Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.
Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."
No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.
contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?
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i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.
i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.
i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.
i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,
matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.
hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?
the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.
"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.
his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.
his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.
he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.
i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.
-
we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.
"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.
matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.
"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.
"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.
matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.
"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.
matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"
"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.
"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.
"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.
matt nods nervously,
"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.
matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.
"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.
"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.
"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.
my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.
"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.
"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.
i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.
"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.
“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,
i never knew matt was this big.
my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.
“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse
“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.
matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.
i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.
“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.
“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.
“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.
it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.
his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.
“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.
i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.
“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.
“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.
“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.
-
after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.
“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.
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was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though
I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point
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bet-on-me-13 · 16 days
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Wes ruins everything
Wes had finally done it, he had finally realized why nobody ever belived him about Fenton and Phantom! It made so much sense now, he had been looking for an answer for years, thinking he was going crazy because everybody refused to see the Obvious!
He was Cursed!
He literally had an Ancestoral Curse on his Bloodline that made it so that all those born with the gift of Prophecy would be ignored! A Gift of Prophecy that he apparently had.
It was Cassandra's Curse, the one from Greek Myths. Apparently she was his Great×1000 Grandmother and passed down the Gift (and Curse) of Prophecy to him. And he knew how to break it!
All he needed to do was gather the right resources, chant the correct incantations, make sure not to accidentally summon a Demon in the process, and he could just foist the Curse onto some other poor schmuck. Sure it would suck for them, and he would loose his Gift of Prophecy, but Wes had been ignored for Years at this point, he needed validation!
So he did the Ritual, and he didn't mess it up, and he managed to get rid of the Curse.
Now all he had to do was convince everybody that he was right for the first time in his life! This was going to be great!
...
Cass didn't know what was going on.
A while ago, she had started getting these...gut feelings that she couldn't explain.
She would look over the details of a Case her Family was working on, and see a patern that the others were seemingly ignoring. Like when she realized that The Penguin was about to raid the Docks on the East Side, but the others were convinced it was going to be on the West.
But when she had tried to tell them, they had brushed her off. "We've already concluded that he will begin the Raid on the West side, no need to go to the East."
She had gone anyways, and low and behold she had been right. But nobody even acknowledged that she had been right at all, they had just wondered how they had missed the signs, not even questioning how she had known.
It wasn't limited to Cases either. Even small things, like telling her brother's where the TV remote was were brushed off, and hours later they would still be looking, never even having checked where she told them.
It seemed that no matter what, nobody cared about her point of view anymore. They kept brushing her off, telling her she was wrong, actively ignoring her ideas.
And it was getting worse. They were starting to ignore her more and more, forgetting she was in the room, not calling her down for Dinner, even forgetting to check in on her during Patrol.
She knew that there must be something going on, Magical or otherwise, but when she tried bringing it up with her Dad or JLD, they would also Brush her off.
Her Family was forgetting her. And they didn't even realize it.
...
Danny was not okay at the moment.
When he had gone to school a few weeks ago and noticed everybody staring at him, he didn't give it much thought. Maybe Dash or Paulina had spread another Rumor about him again, not too out of the ordinary.
When his name had been called over the Intercom, he hadn't thought much of that either. His grades were falling even more than usual, so he assumed his Guidance Counselor wanted to have another talk with him.
When he walked into the Principals Office to see both of his Parents and some GIW Agents, that's when he realized something big must have happened.
He didn't have much of a chance to react when the Shields went up, but he did react when the first Ecto-Blast scorched the wall behind him. His Parents began to scream at him as they fired their Blasters, something about replacing somebody? He didn't know, he was pretty preoccupied at the moment.
It took more effort than he cared to admit to escape the Room, but a stray shot to the hidden Shield Projector under the Principals Desk proved to be his saving grace. Unfortunately the moment he escaped the Office, he was met with a veritable Army of GIW Agents, all armed to the Teeth with Weapons he had never even seen before.
He managed to get away for a moment, hiding in the Bathroom as the Agents chasing him passed it by. That's when he met Wes.
He obviously hadn't been expecting him, but the moment he saw him Wes put on a smug look. "Oh hi Fenton, trying to get away from the other students?"
Danny had replied with confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I finally managed to convince everybody about you, now everyone knows that you're Phantom! I'll bet you're hiding from all of the other Students hounding you for questions right?"
"...it was you?"
"Yeah, so? I finally get to be right!"
"...You absolute MORON-"
That was the last Danny got to say to Wes before an Ecto-Blast launched him through a Wall, seeing his face morph into a look of Shock just before the dust cloud covered it up.
Since that day, Danny had been on the Run. Nowhere was safe anymore now that the GIW knew both his Human and Ghost's faces, but he had to keep running. He crossed state Lines already, and was on his way to the next Ecto-Rich City he could sense, somewhere in New Jersey.
He cursed his Fenton Luck every day. Why had everybody believed Wes this time?! Nobody had ever belived him before, nobody even seemed to acknowledge his existence after a while! What had changed?
Danny just wanted to rest already.
...
Cass had taken to Patrolling alone recently. She had taken to doing a lot of things alone, actually.
After the first month, it seemed that nobody could remember that she was in the room with them, even if she was within their eyeline, she just faded into the background. By the 2 Month Mark they had stopped talking to her entirely, although occasionally she would get a Text or two from her dad. By the 3 month Mark she was completely invisible, and By the 5th she had been forced to get used to it.
She didn't know what was going on, was it a Meta Ability? Magic? Alien Tech? She had no idea.
She had begun to cook for herself after the first time Alfred forgot to set her Plate at the Table. The same with Washing her own Clothes, Cleaning her Room, and Paying her Phone Bills. At the very least the Automated Allowance Payments to her Account had kept up, or she wouldn't have been able to go to her favorite Cafe anymore.
It was bittersweet for her. She used to go to that Cafe every week with Alfred, but he didn't even come on his own anymore. Had he only come for her? Did she really mean that much to them? It hurt, she finally had a family that cared for her and suddenly she didn't exist to them.
She sat alone at a Table, ignored by everyone in the Cafe as usual, when a new face walked in. He looked about her age, a little roughed up, walking with a sort of cautious gaint, as if he was scared of something. His Body Language seemed to agree with her assessment, as his body practically screamed "Worry" in its movements.
Cass stopped watching at that point. Just another Gotham Teen, probably worried over something like getting not having enough money or getting mugged on the way home. It was a Common sight in Gotham.
She attention was pricked again for a moment when she heard a voice speak up. "Uh, can I sit here?"
She ignored it, he wasn't talking to her.
"Um, excuse me? Miss? Could I sit here?" He repeated.
She ignored him again, he wasn't talking to her. Nobody talked to her.
"Hello? Do you have Earbuds in?" He said, and he waved his hand in front of her face.
Her face. He waved his hand. In front of Her Face.
He was talking to her.
She looked up at him sharply, seeming to startle him for a moment before he asked, "So, is that a no?"
"You can see me?" She asked.
He looked a bit bewildered, but replied "Uh, yeah? Why would I not? Are you...a Ghost?". That last part sounded a bit suspicious.
"No. Not a Ghost. But nobody sees me. Ever. Nobody remembers me." She replied. She had never spoken this much to anybody outside of her Family, but in the past few weeks she had been starved for interaction.
He seemed slightly interested, and sat down at her table. He looked her in the eyes, and said "Do you...talk about it?"
She smiled. He could see her.
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honkytonk-hangman · 3 months
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When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
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Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
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“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?” 
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
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roosterforme · 1 month
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Some Things Take Time | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: Bob is a man well known for his patience. He never rushes things in the air, and he tries to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. You and he are both on the same page about welcoming a child into your home through foster care, but it's hard for him to watch you try to bond with her unsuccessfully. He soon realizes that Avery is a lot like him, and that some things are worth the extra time.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of infertility, mentions of foster care and adoption, Bob making all other men look like trash
Length: 5800 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader
Happy birthday @wkndwlff! Check my masterlist for more!
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You were laying on the couch with your head resting on your husband's lap, spinning his wedding band around on his finger while you tried to put your thoughts into words. You could tell he knew you were on the verge of speaking, sending you several expectant glances as you and he both pretended to watch the movie he started an hour ago. But Bob would never rush you, and you were thankful for that, because you wanted to make sure you got this right. 
"We've been trying for a long time," you whispered, and Bob's blue eyes met yours as you looked up at him. "Almost two years."
He nodded once and smiled softly. "We have," he murmured, squeezing your hand in his larger one. You pressed your lips together as tears stung your eyes. Bob never seemed upset that he was pushing forty years old and in spite of trying and trying, you'd never gotten pregnant. He never put pressure on you to keep trying or to stop. You were convinced he never would, but you wanted to know what he was really thinking.
"What if we... stopped. Stopped trying. And just went with an alternative?"
"Honey, I already told you I'm happy with things how they are. We can stop trying if you want to, or we can talk about alternatives if you want to do that. But there's nothing wrong with just you and me. In fact, I'm really quite enjoying myself."
You closed your eyes as his fingers drifted along the curves of your side. It would be delicious to get back into the habit of having sex when you wanted to instead of when your cycle demanded it. You and Bob sharing your undivided attention with each other was something you were craving, but you still wanted something else, too.
"What if I said I wanted to look into fostering and adoption again?" you asked softly as you started to sit up.
He pulled you closer so you were straddling his thigh. "Then I would say we can call our lawyer on Monday and get some answers."
You smiled as you nudged his glasses with your nose and kissed his cheek. "And what if I said I'm not fertile today, but I want you anyway?"
Bob reached for the remote and turned the movie off as a soft blush rose in his cheeks. "Then I would say it's time we got in bed, Honey."
---------------------
Bob was a man who was well known for his patience. He never rushed things in the air, and he tried to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. He knew he wanted to marry you about halfway through the first date. He also knew you would have looked at him like he was insane if he admitted that to you halfway through the first date. So instead of rushing things, he took the time to make sure you were on the same page he was and that you were comfortable. He always tried to do that.
When a baby just didn't seem to be happening, he was more than willing to keep trying, but he was also completely content with the idea of no kids at all. It wasn't worth rushing anything as long as he had you in his life. But you had recently convinced him of a third option, and his lawyer helped the two of you smooth out the details. 
And this is how Avery ended up at Bob's house on a random Monday evening. She was eight years old and in need of a foster family, and you were adamant when you answered the phone call that you and Bob were more than ready for her to be dropped off even on such short notice. 
"I'm so nervous," you whispered as you held Bob's hand and watched through the front window as a van pulled up. 
"I'm excited," he told you with a soft laugh. When he thought about having kids, he always pictured a little girl. For some reason, the idea of reading princess stories and painting a bedroom a putrid shade of purple really appealed to him. As he watched Avery being led up the walkway, he realized she didn't look one bit like you or him. He also realized that having a child who resembled him was actually never part of his dreams. 
As the doorbell rang, you bounced in place and whispered, "She's here. She's really here." 
Bob pulled you in for a kiss as his heart thudded. He realized he needed to tamp down his excitement a little bit. The two of you were merely fostering Avery. Nothing was set in stone even though you told the lawyer you wanted to eventually adopt a child. But right now your eyes were glittering with hope and anticipation, and Bob couldn't take that away from you. 
"Let's make her feel welcome," he said as you both headed for the door. 
Avery stood there with an unreadable expression on her adorable face, and Bob noticed right away how the case worker seemed to rush through everything. There were papers to sign and a schedule to keep, and even though all of it pertained to Avery, she ended up sitting quietly at the kitchen table while everyone else talked about her.
It was late by the time you and Bob were alone with her, and now her unreadable expression looked something like sadness. "Avery," Bob said softly. "Do you want to see your bedroom?"
She looked up at him and nodded without saying a word, and then you helped her down from the chair. You had taken the time to freshen up the extra bedroom and buy a pink glitter toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in her size. But Avery just sat down on the edge of the bed with her bag and asked, "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"
"Yes," Bob replied with a smile. "I'll drop you off on my way to work, and then I'll pick you up in the afternoon."
When she didn't respond, you asked, "Is there anything you want? A bedtime snack or something to drink? I could make you some hot chocolate or get you a cookie. Bob makes the best oatmeal cookies, and there are a few left from the weekend. Maybe you can help Bob make the next batch." You were rambling now, and Bob reached out to squeeze your hand as you said, "We're just excited that you're here."
But Avery shook her head and told you, "I'll just read my book. Thanks." Then she untied her shoes and took a well worn copy of The Secret Garden from her bag, but she sat on the bed with rigid posture, not looking at either of you.
Bob wasn't quite sure what to do. You'd already shown the child where the bathroom was, and she seemed to have all of her essentials. He swallowed hard, deciding not to rush Avery even though he could feel your disappointment radiating off of you. He cleared his throat and said, "We'll leave our bedroom door open in case you need anything. And we'll get you up around seven for school. Good night, Avery."
She just nodded and squinted down at the tattered book cover like she was going to cry. Bob led you down the hallway, through your room and into the en suite bathroom where he gathered you in his arms as tears filled your eyes. "I don't think she likes us," you gasped before you buried your face against his neck.
Bob kissed the top of your head and whispered, "I just think she needs some time. Let's not rush anything." 
-------------------------
You cried yourself to sleep the first night. You knew that your response wasn't fair to Bob or Avery or even to yourself, but you'd imagined meeting a little girl who was at least a little bit more talkative if not upbeat. You had your hopes set on fostering a child who at least gave the impression that your home was better than another alternative. You'd been given a vague picture of where Avery had come from, and you wanted her to be comfortable here, but now you felt stupid for buying the glitter toothbrush and the Minnie Mouse pajamas. 
Bob's hand drew lazy circles on your back as you turned away from him and cried softly. "It's just the first night," he reminded you in that sweet, even tone that you loved so much.
"I know. I just wanted this so desperately," you admitted between shaky breaths. His hand on your body helped you eventually fall asleep, and the next morning, Bob was up before you, making breakfast. When you tapped on Avery's door which was ajar, you poked your head in to find her once again sitting on the bed reading.
"Did you sleep okay?" you asked, and she nodded in response. "That's great!" you said in a tone of forced excitement. "Do you need help getting ready for school?"
"No," she said softly, setting the book aside.
You took a deep breath and said, "Bob's making breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs and eat?"
"Yes."
That was the last word you heard her speak before Bob led her out to his car in his uniform. He smiled at you over his shoulder as he told you to have a good day working on your true crime novel, but you knew you weren't going to. You spend two hours trying to write, but you ended up with three and a half new sentences. Instead, you spent most of the day thinking you'd made a huge mistake and hating your own body. Avery would probably last two weeks tops with you and Bob before she was begging to go somewhere else. You didn't even know if you could stand to see her melancholy little expression when your husband brought her home from school today, but you didn't want to call her case worker for help yet.
In the afternoon, you bought everything you needed to make oatmeal cookies along with the rest of your usual groceries. You paused next to the checkout line where there was a display of children's books and grabbed a few of them. Avery appeared to like her book more than anything else, so maybe she would appreciate these ones, too.
But when Bob brought Avery home with him after school, she barely spoke. She didn't want to help make any cookies, and after dinner, she went back to her bedroom. Bob tried to help her with her homework, but she told him it was easy and she already finished it. When you dropped off the new books, she told you she already had a favorite. 
"Oh," you said, standing in the doorway with your hands full of the unwanted books. "That's good... that you have a favorite. I have a favorite book, too."
She looked up at you and nodded, but soon you were backing out of the room and trying to hide your tears from Bob. "It takes time," he reassured you as you balled your hands into fists and cried on him again.
You knew you needed to be as patient as he always was, but you just weren't like him. And you started talking before you could stop yourself. "If we could have gotten pregnant, we'd have our own child," you sobbed. "One that we raised from day one who would love us and bake cookies and read new books."
Bob kissed your ear and whispered, "Nothing is easy, Honey. But sometimes the harder something is at first, the more rewarding it is later on."
You cried yourself to sleep again.
------------------------
Bob tried his best for that first week. He watched you start to pull away and retreat into yourself the more Avery kept to her bedroom. Every day when he dropped her off and picked her up, she thanked him for the ride. When he asked if she would rather start taking the bus, she told him it didn't matter. When he asked if there was something special she wanted to eat for dinner, she said she wasn't picky. 
And all the while she just squinted down at her book. Just The Secret Garden even though you brought home some others. When he pulled up to the curb in front of her school one morning, he said, "Avery, would you like me to take you to the library one day? Or maybe a bookstore where you can pick out what you want?"
She looked at him as she grabbed her backpack in one hand and her book in the other. "Maybe." Then she climbed out of the car, and he waited to pull away until she was inside the school building. That was the most promising answer he'd received yet. He drove to work thinking about signing her up for a library card, and when he got there, he was in a much better mood.
Natasha was the only one who knew that Avery was under his care. He didn't want to give anyone too many details, but she sweetly asked him the same question every morning after they got to work. "How are you and the Mrs. making out with your houseguest?"
And this morning, he said, "Maybe a little better today, Nat. I'm just trying not to rush it."
She patted him on the chest and smiled. "You never do, Bob. You're a man of details."
She was right. He spent the day thinking about all of the details that he knew about Avery. She was eight years old and very quiet. She only wanted to read one book even though you offered her more. She seemed to find the most comfort when she was alone. She was honestly a lot like Bob.
When he picked Avery up from school, he watched as one of the teachers patted the top of her backpack and sent her on her way. She squinted toward his car before trudging over in his direction with a frown on her face. Bob sighed as she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. "How was your day, Avery?" he asked as he shifted into drive. But today he got no verbal response at all. Instead he heard her crying.
Without another word, Bob pulled his car around and into an empty parking spot before killing the engine. He opened his door and closed it before taking a few deep breaths, and then he climbed in the back door and settled in next to the crying child. He let one hand gently rest on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze before asking, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
She just shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. "It's stupid."
Bob smiled slightly. "You might think so, but I'd probably find what you have to say fascinating."
She turned her head to look at him, examining his face to see if he was being honest. But of course he was. He just wanted her to tell him what was on her mind. It took a few minutes before she started to settle down, but eventually she said, "I failed my eye exam with the nurse today." She unzipped her bag and pulled out a yellow sheet of paper and handed it to him. "She told me my eyesight is terrible and that I need to get glasses."
Bob looked at the page and had to hide his alarm from her. Avery failed her eye exam spectacularly. It was a wonder to Bob that she was even able to see in her classroom. But now her squinting and her preference for one, well worn book were starting to make sense. As he filled in the blanks in his mind, he said, "Glasses aren't so bad," while he tapped his own silver frames. "They certainly make my day a lot easier."
She kind of rolled her eyes and said, "But you're an adult. People aren't going to make fun of you for wearing glasses."
"You think you'll get made fun of?" Bob asked softly, folding the yellow paper in half.
"Yes," she replied immediately as she wiped at her tears. "I already do. Glasses will make it so much worse."
Bob wanted to press her for more details, but he didn't think this was the right moment. Instead he asked, "Is that why you only like to read The Secret Garden? Because you already know most of the words by heart?"
Avery looked at him like she couldn't believe he solved a very complex riddle. "Yes."
He nodded and asked, "Would you like to be able to read other books, too? Because glasses would definitely help with that."
She shrugged and sniffed as she said, "I like books about gardens and flowers and fairies. I don't know of any other ones I would like anyway."
Bob patted her on the shoulder one more time and said, "I like those kinds of books, too. And I think I can help you get glasses that look cool and help you pick out more books. If you'll let me."
Another partial shrug was his only answer, but at least she wasn't telling him no. As he climbed back into the driver's seat, he sent you a quick text telling you that he and Avery were fine and to go ahead and have dinner on your own. Then he drove along to his optometrist's office, hoping they would squeeze an extra appointment into their schedule.
"You're in luck," the receptionist told him when they arrived. "There was a last minute cancellation. Have a seat, and we can take you back shortly."
The rack hanging on the wall was filled with books and magazines for people of all ages, but Bob watched Avery squint as she took a seat empty handed. He skimmed a magazine and offered to read an article to her, but she said no. When ten minutes had passed, Bob asked her, "Are the kids at school mean to you?" 
He was already considering other options that might make her feel more comfortable when she said, "I just don't fit in. Everyone else has parents or grandparents. Everyone else is loud, and I like it better when it's quiet. Everyone else already made friends."
Bob nodded his head. It was like she was living his own childhood in many ways. "I like it better when it's quiet, too. So does my wife. And making friends can be hard at any age. I still struggle with it."
"You do?" she asked him, eyes wide and interested.
"Absolutely. Sometimes I still get nervous and stumble over what I want to say, and I'm thirty-nine. And you know what?"
"What?"
"There's nothing wrong with that."
He watched Avery take a deep breath and look down at her hands before both of their names were called. Once they were in the exam room, Bob got to witness her fail the test for the second time in one day, and then her tears started up again. The crying was only made worse when the receptionist popped in and tried to quietly tell Bob that Avery wasn't approved for any vision insurance. 
The child was clearly smart as a whip, and if she was having a hard time fitting in at school, he didn't want to make it worse by making her feel like she didn't fit in with you and him either. "I was planning on paying out of pocket today," he told the receptionist who just nodded in response. Then he turned to Avery and said, "Looks like the nurse was right. How about we pick out some glasses?"
She looked at the displays while she wiped at her eyes with a tissue, but she wouldn't tell Bob which ones she wanted to try on. "Which ones are the cheapest?" she asked softly.
"I have no idea," Bob replied easily. "What's your favorite color?"
"Purple," she whispered, and Bob followed her squinting gaze to a purple frame sitting on a shelf above her head. 
"I like purple, too," he said as he reached them down and handed them to her. She held them for a couple minutes, and Bob decided not to rush her. She finally slipped them on and looked in the mirror, and he told her, "I think they look cool."
She nodded a little bit. "They're pretty good. But nobody else at school has purple glasses." 
As she removed them and tried to hand them back to him, Bob quickly looked at the adult sized frames. There was one pair that came in a deep purple, and he kind of liked them. "Just hang onto those for a minute. I need help picking out new glasses for myself, okay? What do you think about these?" 
When he removed his wire frames and replaced them with the purple plastic, it seemed like Avery couldn't help but smile. "I like them."
He nodded once. "Then I'll get them. That way we can match since we both like purple. Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome," she replied quietly, looking at the glasses she was still holding before handing them to Bob.
He took both pairs in his hand before nodding toward the door. "I'm feeling like it's a good day to get ice cream for dinner and look around the bookstore. I can think of at least two more books that you might like to read once your glasses are ready for you to wear. Sound good?"
"Yes."
--------------------------
You didn't know what to expect when Bob brought Avery home after seven o'clock on a school night, but you definitely weren't prepared to hear her laughter for the first time. You'd barely made any progress on your novel since Avery arrived a few weeks ago, merely existing in your own funk all day long. But the sound of Bob's voice followed by her light giggle as they walked inside left you feeling better than you had in ages.
"Hi," you said, your voice dripping with optimism as Bob headed your way with a shopping bag in his hand. 
"Hi, Honey," he replied, kissing your cheek while Avery took her shoes off.
"How was school?" you asked her. 
"Terrible," she told you with a smile aimed up at Bob. "I failed my eye exam."
"Oh," you gasped, already making a mental note to call the eye doctor first thing in the morning so she could get some glasses. "We can take care of it for you."
"Already did," Bob said as he squeezed your hand. "Stopped on the way home and picked them out. Should be ready next week."
"Really?" you asked in surprise as he pulled two books out of the bag. Both were covered in vines and flowers, but one was clearly a novel for an adult while the other was much slimmer and looked like it was for Avery's reading level.
"Yes," he replied softly. "Now, on the drive home, I told Avery that you're a writer, but that you're also really good at reading books out loud." When you nodded and looked at her, she was squinting up at you. Bob handed you the smaller book and said, "I didn't get to take a shower before I left work, so I need to go do that now. But I promised Avery that you'd read a chapter to her after she gets ready for bed." He patted her on the shoulder and then made his way upstairs.
Your head was swimming with information. New glasses and new books and a child who was looking up at you with hope in her eyes. A husband who set up some time for you to spend alone with her. Tears stung your eyes as you said, "I love reading books out loud. Do you want to change for bed and brush your teeth now?"
Ten minutes later, you were sitting next to Avery on the spare bed, reading to her about a magical garden filled with flowers that turned the characters into superheroes. You read all sixteen pages of the first chapter, and then she asked you to read more. 
It was a little bit past bedtime when you finished the third chapter, and she was yawning. "How about I go get you one of my bookmarks from my office? And we can read more tomorrow night?"
"Okay," she replied easily, and when you returned a minute later with a bookmark that had a purple tassel, she smiled. "I like this book so far, but I think I'd like it a lot better if there were fairies, too. Thank you for reading to me."
"You're very welcome," you told her, barely shutting off the light in time for a tear to slide down your cheek. "Goodnight, Avery."
When you rushed into your own bedroom, Bob was in bed reading the other new book. "How did you do it?" you asked him, quickly climbing under the covers with him. "How did you get her to open up a little bit?"
He set the book down with a soft smile. "She just needed some time, Honey. She's a lot like me. She can't be rushed."
"No," you said, pushing your fingers through his hair as you cried a little bit. "That's not it. I think you're actually magical."
"Maybe," he agreed. "But her vision is so bad. That's why I think she kept reading The Secret Garden. She probably has it memorized and didn't want to tell anyone she couldn't see."
"Poor thing," you whispered, realizing that most of Bob's magic came from his patience as you fell asleep in his arms.
-------------------------
A week later, Bob noticed you were exhausted, but you seemed a lot happier, because Avery seemed a lot happier. You had successfully read two books to her, and she was starting to become more vocal around the house. He was hoping she was having an easier time making friends at school now, too. But he was a little bit concerned with how late into the night you'd been working.
When he got a message around lunchtime letting him know both pairs of glasses were ready, he smiled. Pretty soon Avery would be able to attempt reading a new book on her own. He sent you a text letting you know that he'd be home with Avery after a quick stop back at the optometrist's office. And when he picked her up from school, she squinted at his car before climbing in the backseat. 
"Ready to go get our new glasses?" he asked before pulling out onto the road.
"Yes," she replied softly. "I've decided that wearing glasses is a better alternative than not being able to read new books. At least until I can get contacts."
Bob chuckled. "A wise choice."
A few seconds later, she asked, "Will you take me to the library this weekend? There have to be more books there that I'd like."
"Of course I'll take you to the library. We can ask the librarian to help you find you as many books as you want to read."
He hoped that would make the new glasses an even easier decision for her. He parked and led her inside where the eye doctor got them both fitted correctly before handing them a mirror. "What do you think?" Bob asked as he smiled at Avery. "I think they look cool on you."
She shrugged. "They're okay."
"Can you see better?"
"Yes," she whispered. On the way outside, she said, "Thanks for getting new glasses with me. I like yours, too."
Bob checked himself in the mirror before he backed out of the parking spot. "I think it's kind of my color."
You were waiting in the living room for them when Bob opened the front door. The house smelled like dinner cooking, and you had a stack of bound pages on the couch next to you. When you jumped to your feet, you said, "You both look great!" as you bounced in place a little bit.
"Purple is kind of our color," Avery said, making Bob laugh as you covered your massive smile with your fingertips. 
"It really is," you replied, wrapping Bob in a quick hug before cautiously placing your hand on Avery's shoulder for a beat. "I have something I wanted to show you. I was hoping to get your opinion."
"Me?" she asked, looking up at you, eyes wide behind her purple frames.
"Yes," you told her softly. "I've been working on a new story for the past week, and I really think you'll be able to help me with the ending."
"What kind of story?" she asked you, and Bob slowly made his way into the kitchen where he could still hear the two of you talking. 
"Well," you told her as she joined you on the couch, "it's about a fairy who gets invited to live in a magic garden. And she starts to learn how to use magic herself while a friendly witch and a kind wizard supervise her. And the garden is really pretty, and she loves it there and starts to make friends with the other creatures. Do you want to take a look at it?"
"Okay."
Bob hovered in the doorway and watched you hand the bound manuscript to the little girl next to you while you chewed nervously on your lip. He knew you wanted this to work out; he did too. He was also very surprised that you'd been working on this for the past week without sharing your secret even with him. But it truthfully wasn't really for him. It was for her. And you.
The child looked up at you and whispered, "You named the fairy Avery."
You just nodded and smiled. "Your name is so pretty, and you remind me of the kind of little girl who would have magic inside her."
Avery turned back to the page in front of her and snuggled in a little bit closer to you. She started reading out loud, and after a few pages, handed it over to you for a little bit. The two of you went back and forth like this for an hour before Bob carried in two plates of dinner and set them on the coffee table. 
"Even magic fairies get hungry," he said softly before leaving both of you to the story.
---------------------------
When you woke up a few weeks later on Avery's ninth birthday, you were beyond exhausted. The past few nights had been late ones for you as you tried to finish up and edit the story you'd been working on. The title that the two of you came up with was The Littlest Fairy in the Garden, and you were just as proud of this as your true crime releases. 
Then you realized that there was actually a reason why you woke up. You could hear Bob talking. It sounded like he was on the phone even though it was barely eight o'clock. You climbed out of bed and stretched before finding him sitting on the floor in the walk-in closet talking softly on the phone in his pajama pants, undershirt and purple glasses.
"I'm sure she's going to agree with me. We want to move forward if that's what Avery wants, but I'll call you back in an hour or two. Thank you so much."
He ended the call right when you asked, "Who was that?"
Bob jumped a bit as he looked up at you with a tentative smile. "Our lawyer," he whispered. 
"What did they say?" you whispered back as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around you. 
When Bob's lips found your ear, you shivered at his words. "It was just a preliminary conversation, but they asked if we would be interested in pursuing adoption."
"With Avery?" you gasped, and he nodded against you. 
"Yes. With Avery."
Tears filled your eyes as you clung to him. You thought about all the books she'd been reading with you and the birthday cake waiting in the kitchen. You could practically still smell the oatmeal cookies she and Bob made a few days ago. You could picture her smile and imagine her laughter, both of which were coming more easily with each passing day. "I want to adopt her. She belongs here. With us."
"I think so, too," he replied immediately, and you could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I think we should have a conversation with her about it today. The process could take a little time, but I want to be sure it's what she wants as well."
You nodded, a jerky motion against him as your heart pounded faster and faster. "Let's talk about it when she wakes up."
Bob led you downstairs to the kitchen, his fingers laced with yours, and he started to crack some eggs while you made coffee and fresh orange juice. Avery had picked the menu for each meal today for her birthday, and the plan was to take her to the zoo after lunch. There was currently a purple banner with flowers and fairies on it stretched across the kitchen along with a large assortment of balloons. You couldn't remember being this excited about something in such a long time.
"Good morning," came a soft voice from the bottom of the stairs, and you nearly dropped a mug on the floor as you turned to look at her.
"Happy birthday!" you and Bob replied in unison, and then all three of you started laughing. 
Without another word, Avery made her way into the kitchen in her Minnie Mouse pajamas and gave you a hug around the waist. You gasped softly as you hugged her back, her purple glasses pressing against you. Then she tucked herself against Bob's side and hugged him right after that. "Thanks for all the birthday stuff. And thanks for being so nice to me and getting me glasses and everything."
You and Bob shared a look over her head as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder. "It makes us happy that you're here, Avery," he said softly, and you had to swipe at your tears. "Let's have your breakfast, and maybe we can talk about making this permanent."
"Permanent? Like me staying here for a while?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.
"Like you staying here forever."
--------------------------
This is a little birthday treat for @wkndwlff! I hope you have a great day, Taylor! I set out to write a nice little story based on this mood board, but somehow it turned into this angsty thing instead. Thanks to @sylviebell @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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petermorwood · 2 months
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Is "Uh, nope" a frequent US response to lamb?
Or is US lamb somehow different?
This is just a vaguely mystified response to some comments here.
I'm guessing the "G-word" is gamey. I've smelt gamey meat, I don't like it, and Irish lamb definitely isn't that. Also, most people I know don't need to screw up their courage before cooking or eating it.
Mutton, mature sheep-meat, has - or so I've been told, because I've never found it in any local butcher - a much fuller flavour, still not gamey, but more ... robust, pronounced, emphatic, choose your descriptor. It is, after all, a more mature meat.
For terminology reference (though this may not be current any more), "lamb" is up to one year old, "hogget" - remember the farmer's name in "Babe"? - is up to two years old, and "mutton" is over two years.
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As I said, I haven't seen mutton anywhere, and haven't HEARD of hogget.
This might be, as I hinted, because terminology has been simplified and all meat from sheep is now "lamb" - and that may answer my own question. Sometimes US lamb has a fuller flavour than, say, Wicklow lamb in Ireland, because sometimes US lamb is hogget or mutton instead.
If so, it restores a possible original meaning to "mutton dressed as lamb". That's now best known as "an older woman dressed inappropriately young", and though the meaning has been around for a long time (this Rowlandson print is dated 1810)...
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..."dressing" is also the term for preparing meat for sale.
And THAT makes me wonder if the critical phrase goes beyond fashion into the fine old tradition of adulterating food, and wily butchers transforming elderly sheep into the semblance of younger lamb then charging undiscerning customers accordingly.
I don't know how they might have done it, but if they could then they would. The ways in which 18th-19th century foods were fiddled with is amazing, and more than a bit Yuck.
Or in this case, Ew.
Comments, corrections, criticisms and all the rest are cordially invited.
:->
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Side-note; in keeping with the way nicknames get attached to surnames - "Chalky" White, "Dusty" Miller etc. - anyone called Curry usually ended up as "Mutton".
Two brothers at my school had this happen; Tom Curry, the older one, had been "Mutton" for a couple of years, and when his kid brother Will started school he became, of course, "Lamb".
Oh, how we laffed...
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ETA: @bellyoftheblast just messaged me this:
It turns out, and I only learned this very recently (I think it's in Hannah Glasse) that "dressed" used to mean "cooked" rather than "prepared for sale". Which would mean "mutton dressed as lamb" would be fast-cooked and thus greasy, unpleasantly tough and decidedly stringy. (Meanwhile I'll never waste good lamb on stew again now that I have a source for mutton -- MUCH better flavour for slow cooking).
Thanks for this snippet! We've got the Prospect Books facsimile of Hannah Glasse 1st ed, so I pulled it down, blew off the dust - it's been a while - and yes indeed, I found the following recipes in just four successive pages:
"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton à la Royale",
"To dreſs a Leg of Mutton to eat like Veniſon",
"To dreſs Mutton the Turkiſh Way"
"To dreſs Veal à la Bourgoiſe"
Mutton dressed (or dreſsed) as Lamb doesn't get mentioned, probably because Mistress Glasse knew better, though that business of Mutton to eat (taste) like Venison is interesting.
It involves cutting the leg of mutton "in the shape of a Haunch of Veniſon" then steeping it in the sheep's blood "for five or six Hours" before wrapping it in layers of buttered paper and roasting it, basted frequently with butter or beef dripping.
Not quite mutton as lamb, but still mutton disguised as something more expensive...
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