Hey, how you doin? Hope you're having a nice day :) is there anyway you can make a prompt or imagine about the Dads enjoying a day with their kids and their new husband, Dadsona, and their awesome step-child, Amanda. It would be so adorable and awesome with your creative handwriting x)
My hands are hurting like a b**** but I had to write this! I’m back to filling prompts again, everyone, my term paper is finished!
🥃 You had never been to New York City before, so to get a personal ‘behind the scenes’ tour by your boyfriend’s daughter and her girlfriend was like a dream come true. After going to the must-see sights like the Empire State Building or the Central Park, Val started showing you her favourite spots: A sub shop which served the best sandwiches in all of the states, the Lalique Windows, the club where she had met her girlfriend, a secluded spot of a small park near the water with a perfect view of the skyline where they had first kissed. To you, the trip feels like a journey through Val’s adult life and memories, and judging by Robert’s expression, he feels the same. He had invited you and Amanda along and you’re glad you said yes, or else you would never have learnt of that Jazz Club nestled between a drag bar and a grocery store where Val had watched over the bouncer’s dog for half an hour before he came to retrieve it. You would never have met Val’s girlfriend and you would never have seen the inside of their apartment, which was cluttered with photos and souvenirs from little shops around the city. You would have missed the way Robert and Val interacted, shy and insecure at first increasingly familiar as time went by, mending old wounds and letting the scars fade away. And, most importantly, the picture of the five of you – huddled around Amanda’s camera, your faces smushed together, but so happy, most of all Robert, whose eyes were shining so bright it lit up the whole photo – would never have been taken.
🍸 “Help.” You can’t see it, but you can feel
Joseph’s gaze on you as he takes in the sight of you, a grown man, bested by a
teenager, three children and a toddler. Crish’s butt is firmly planted on your
nape, while Christian, Christie and Amanda are sitting on your back; the oldest
Christiansen child, Chris, holds down your legs while playing Pokémon on the Gameboy
you had given him last Christmas. You try to lift your head, but Crish scoots
backwards to keep you still, saying “Nuh-uh”, so you give up even though the
grass is starting to tickle your nose. “Have you slayed the beast?” Joseph asks
from somewhere to your left. You wouldn’t put it past him to purposely stay out
of your line of vision. “It fought valiantly,” Amanda says, “but ultimately, it
was no match to five brave knights.”
“Bweast!” Crish repeats and hits the back of your head with his hands. You grunt even though it doesn’t even hurt. Finally, Joseph’s shoes appear in front of your face; the next moment, he is kneeling in front of you, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “Well done, brave knights. Tales of your heroic deed will be sung for all eternity. I think the beast has learnt its lesson.” He picked up Crish and nudged the twins until they got off your back and sat back down on the picnic blanket. Once Amanda and Chris also move off you, you roll over. Joseph chuckles and offers you his hand to pull you back on your feet. You accept and immediately, he starts tickling you. “Help!”
☕ You let out an ‘oof’ as Carmensita jumps on your back and stumble a
few steps forward, but thankfully, Mat grips your arm before you can fly down
the stairs. He releases your arm again after giving it a squeeze. “No, ‘manda,
don’t even think about it.” Though she’s walking behind you, you can
practically see Amanda’s pout behind your mind’s eye. “But why?”
“All due respect, but Carmen’s a tiny bit lighter than you.” Amanda appears next to you and indeed, she is wearing the matching pout that you just imagined, but the way her eyes are sparkling shows you she’s not really all that upset. No, she’s already running to the next exhibition of the umpteenth artist whose name you’ve never heard of before. Carmensita points at another picture and you carry her over to it. An art museum wouldn’t have been your first choice for a weekend trip, but now that you’re here, you’re enjoying yourself. “I think it’s a bird,” Carmensita says. You tilt your head at the canvas. “To me it looks like a cross between a house and a baby from Alien.” Next to you, Mat hums. “Maybe it’s not supposed to mean any—“
“MAT!” Mat spins around just in time to catch Amanda, who launched herself at his back after a sprint. He stumbles, but thankfully doesn’t fall and adjusts his grip to hook his arms under Amanda’s legs. You laugh and fondly shake your head. With the way she’s grinning, one might think she just won the lottery, even though she only succeeded in being carried by Mat. He looks fairly unimpressed. “Onwards, steed!” Amanda shouts and nudges Mat with her leg.
🌹”Dad, can I buy that shirt?”
“Ask your other father, ‘Manda.” She scowls at you, but walks over to where Damien is standing together with Lucien, quietly discussing the quality of the fabric, as if a piece of clothing from Dead, Goth, & Beyond could hold a candle to clothes he had sewn himself at home. He looks up at Amanda when she approaches and smiles. It still takes your breath away to see just how happy he is about you and her being in his life now. “Dad wants me to ask you if I can buy that shirt and I beg you, please do not tell me to ask my other father, I cannot be caught in this vicious, never-ending cycle.” Damien tuts. “Amanda dear, why would I say anything like that?” Damien shakes his head and peers at the shirt in Amanda’s hands. “However, I do believe in this situation it would be best to ask Y/N whether you can—“ Amanda lets out a frustrated groan and grips Lucien’s arm. “Lucien, save me. They’re going to do the thing. We cannot let that happen.” Lucien looks at you, then back at Amanda. “Why don’t you just buy it yourself? You have your own money.” Amanda scoffs. “Lucien, brother-dearest, I love you, but you have a lot to learn. Never pay with your own money when you can make your parents do it.” Lucien rolls his eyes and allows her to drag him back towards the band shirts. You make eye contact with Damien across the room and catch him wipe his eyes discretely. You tilt your head in question. “She thinks of me as her other father,” Damien sniffs.
🎣 Your second fishing trip goes much more smoothly than the first time – probably because you’re no longer trying to act like you know what the hell you’re doing and the competitiveness between the two of you has lost its desperate, aggressive edge. The first time, you weren’t together yet, so now, there are a lot more kisses involved, much to Amanda’s and Daisy’s annoyance. You can see them pull faces as Brian pulls you into yet another kiss and even though you cannot hear them since they are back on land, you can tell they’re making gagging noises. You stick out your tongue, but either they’re ignoring you, or they didn’t see you. Neither option appeals to you, so you turn to Brian and pout. “What’s that face for, Y/N?” He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, wiping the pout straight off your face again. You don’t reply, but the way you nuzzle into him is answer enough. Brian laughs and turns back to his fishing rod. It takes some time – mostly due to the fact you two end up scaring the fish away more often than you caught it – but eventually, Brian has your dinner ready and you two return to the shore. While Brian gets a fire going, you walk over to where Amanda and Daisy are playing fetch with Maxwell. You scoop Brian’s daughter into your arms and grin as she laughs and wriggles, trying to escape your tickling fingers.
👟 “The fries won’t kill you, Craig, you don’t have to stare at them like
that.” You flop down in the chair next to Craig and throw an arm over his
shoulders. He automatically leans against you with a heavy sigh. “Do you even
know how much fat is in these things?”
“I know, and I don’t care. We’re on vacation, bro, you really have to learn how to live and let go. Them having fries once every two months or so won’t make them become unhealthy. You let them have pizza, too.” Craig huffed and lightly shoved at your shoulder. “That’s totally different, Y/N. That’s after softball games, as a reward and for celebrations. Right now, we’re not celebrating anything.” You shift River on your other knee and start bouncing her up and down. The baby giggles and tries reaching for your nose, so you indulge her and lean down, even though you know what’s coming – she pulls and you yelp, exaggerating your pain. “I don’t know, bro, I think there’s something to celebrate.” Your gaze wanders over to the playground next to your table, where Amanda and the twins are playing tag. Fighting against two physically superior girls with twin telepathy puts Amanda at a large disadvantage, but she’s holding her own, screaming whenever they reach for her as if she’s running from zombies. “What’s that?” Craig turns to look at you, grinning. Instead of replying, you lean forward to kiss him. The ‘triplets’ groan in protest.
📖 You’re surprised just how well Ernest and Amanda get along. Whereas Ernest had… well, saying disliked wouldn’t quite capture the animosity you were presented with in the beginning, but either way, he had taken ages to warm up to you, but with Amanda, something had clicked right away. It was like all Ernest needed was a big sister who was just as mischievous as him. You watch the two at the lottery booth and try to decide whether you should be proud of them successfully executing their scam four times in a row or whether you should scold them, when Hugo returns from the candy stall. “Are they still trying to win something? Don’t they know the probability of winning that stuffed dog is below one percent?” Hugo lifts his arm and immediately, you step closer and let him engulf you in his body heat. How he does it, when the temperature is close to freezing, you have no idea, but you wouldn’t question your luck. “Oh, they know.” Something about your tone of voice must have set Hugo’s teacher senses off, since he turns to look intently at your face. You try, you really try, but your poker face had never been the best. Hugo narrows his eyes. “They’re cheating.” You don’t even try to deny it, there’s no salvaging this situation. Hugo sighs again and looks about ready to stomp over there and put an end to it, but, taking in Ernest’s excited expression, something in him melts. “I’ll let it slide this time,” he says and kisses your forehead.