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allbark-no-bite · 2 years

Text

Silver Fox || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: in which Elvis decides not to dye his hair for once and it makes him that much more irresistible

warnings: mentions of smut, foul language

word count: 2.2k

author’s note: i’m in love with this one. y’all know i can’t resist some good domestic Elvis

I did not come from a kind home. I came from a home with slamming doors and shaking walls and air that was always thick with tension. My parents were turbulent, constantly tipping the scale with weeks of silence and then explosive nuclear rage. So I had always promised myself that I would find a partner who was kind. So that even on the days that love was not enough, there would still be kindness.

I'll always say my life began when I met Elvis. I fell in love with him first for his personality. He was so delicately mild mannered, and yet bursting with life. Even before we had children, he showed me what a real family was, and what ours could be like.

His parents welcomed me with open arms. It had been the three of them against the world until all the fame, so although their family wasn't large, their bond was strong. I think Gladys was thrilled to have a daughter to dote on as well.

And as they say, a home with kindness breeds quickly. His parents, his cousins, the Memphis Mafia, their children, we all became a family. Our home at Graceland was soon filled with love, large meals, and laughter.

Years passed, and we had kids of our own. It became a problem really, the rate at which we produced children. We had our first baby a few weeks after he was discharged from the army (a last minute visit home had occurred eight months prior).

Eugene had barely begun walking before I was swollen again, six months pregnant with our second boy. Elvis was only twenty, and his career was skyrocketing. Truthfully, I liked to believe it was a blessing that we had started having kids so young. With Elvis' life that involved traveling constantly, and a career that asked for his home life and job to coexist as one, his youth enabled him to have the energy to go from touring one day to wrangling toddlers down for a nap the next. And he did it all with a smile.

We had agreed that after our third child, we were going to put a halt to the baby making—at least temporarily. Three young boys were a lot to handle, even with the help of his family. When it came down to it, our lives were already so busy as it was. We lasted a good eight years before Emily Joe came alone. And then once you have four, you might as well have five.

—

Elvis is lounging with his back against the railing of the porch, white sock clad feet crossed in front of him as he chats with Sonny and Joe. There's a coffee mug in his hand containing tea, an attempt to soothe his throat after a few strenuous weeks of performing. As usual, his casual attire consists of a silky black button up and dark jeans.

The sight makes me smile to myself from the doorway. The colors perfectly compliment his salt and pepper flecked hair, something he had only recently been allowing to show through. At thirty-five, Elvis had started greying much quicker than most, it just didn't show due to him dying it constantly. But with his schedule finally clear of any performances for the next week or so, he'd tossed the boxed dye aside in favor of letting it grow out. Flashes of silver and white lick through his otherwise stark black hair. While the change made him slightly uneasy, I thought it was the most attractive thing in the entire world.

Eventually he looks away from his conversation with Joe and catches me staring. With a bemused smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes, he uncrosses his feet and spreads his thighs, holding out an arm to pull me between his legs.

"What sonofabitch let you outta the house lookin' that pretty?" he teases, his voice low and throaty as he squeezes my shoulder and kisses affectionately into my hair.

I slap his firm chest and am met with solid resistance. "I know you don't kiss your mama with that mouth, Elvis Presley."

We'd been married for over ten years, and he still flirted with me just as much now as he did when we were dating. I'd been smart enough to marry the man for his character and lucky enough to love him for his looks. Elvis was just as good looking as he was in his teenage years, if not even more so. He had aged like fine French wine.

"C'mon, mama. Sweet thing like you carryin' my baby, I'm a lucky man," he purrs.

If I thought Elvis was handsy before, he was ten times worse when I was pregnant. Where ever I went, he always followed close behind, grasping my elbow to steady me or hovering nearby, at the ready for whatever I needed.

I laugh at him, only able to shake my head in response. "You're insatiable."

He had been between my thighs this morning, licking and sucking and nipping until my knees were quivering beside his face. I had to weakly push his head away after I'd come a second time on his tongue. Even afterwards, he had sat me on the bathroom counter top and made me taste myself on his lips.

He passes a hand under the swell of my stomach while leaning down to capture my lips in a gentle but savory kiss. "No, just horny," he whispers, as he pulls away just slightly, blue eyes mischievous, intending his last sentence purely for my own ears.

"Could the two of you at least wait until this one's born before you start makin' the next one," Sonny groans from the other side of the porch. "I've got enough godchildren for the time being."

Cheeks burning, I pull away from our extremely close proximity, but Elvis keeps me trapped between his legs. Joe is chuckling beside Sonny, the rest of the Mafia snickering from their various states of inhabitation on the porch.

Elvis lets out a short huff of a laugh, kicking back again against the railing. "Baby factory is closed," he informs them, running a hand through his silver flecked hair. "Damn kids are turnin' me grey."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You said that after Ernest." As if to prove my point, a scream echos from the yard behind us.

"Daddy!!"

A tiny four year old comes running up the porch steps, her arms held up in the air as she grabs for Elvis. Chestnut colored bangs fall into her round, doll shaped face, which is visibly upset. I was immensely surprised, when after having three children who looked like mirror images of Elvis, Emily took after me.

Before Elvis can even reach out to her, his hands preoccupied with my hips, Red swoops her off of her feet and into his arms.

There came a point after raising all of our kids together for so many years, that we often didn't think twice about who's kid was who's. They all probably thought they were siblings anyhow.

Just satisfied that she's gotten someone's attention, the toddler hiccups while trying to catch her breath. "U-Uncle Red, Eugene is— is bein' mean to Michael."

Back in the yard, the rest of the kids are running rampant in the yard, our dog darting around them as they toss a football. What had started as an organized football game looks to have turned into a squabble between the older boys. They tug on each other's clothes and shove their supposed teammates into the dirt. At the heart of the chaos are the eldest of the Presley children, Eugene and Micheal. The blonde seventeen year old has his feet planted to the ground, the latter's head locked between his elbow with no intention of letting go anytime soon. Michael's hands grab desperately at his brother, his feet scrambling wildly as he tries to escape. Eugene only grips him tighter.

With the pair so close in age, it seemed as though fights were becoming more and more inevitable. The teenagers quarreled like two cats forced to share a box, and fur was sure to fly. They tumbled down stairs and broke glasses and even noses from time to time (Micheal's once perfect button nose was still slightly askew). Elvis had told me a thousand times that it was all in good fun, but it still made me nervous.

One of Joe' boys tumbles into the pair, followed by Ernest, causing Eugene to stagger sideways. The blonde refusing to let go of his brother, Michael is forced along with him. Despite whatever minor argument had likely initiated the petty dispute, neither was giving in.

Back on the porch, Red just chuckles, tutting in pretend disapproval. "Awh, they're just pretendin', Em. You ain't gotta worry about them."

Still slightly distraught, Emily sniffs and wipes her eyes. While the Red and the rest of the mafia just laugh, finding the situation amusing, Emily and I do not.

Hands on my hips, I move to the edge of the porch. "Eugene Presley! Let go of your brother before you hurt him."

At the sound of my voice, the boys' wild flailing comes to a halt; however, Eugene doesn't release Michael just yet. The older boy's blue eyes shift from me to his father standing beside me, as if to gauge how serious I'm being.

Elvis, who had been only mildly concerned before my intervention, chuckles while placing a steadying hand at the small of my back. If it had been up to him, he likely would have allowed them to continue, but he would do anything to dim my worries. "Alright, that's enough. Let 'im go."

The moment Eugene loosens his hold, Micheal is shoving his brother away from him, a disgruntled look on his face. They start for the porch, taking our intervention as their queue to wrap up their game. Both of them look as though they've been drug through the dirt. Micheal's stock of blonde hair is rumpled throughly, and Eugene has a red welp on his cheek.

"Ma, Micheal started it," the boy defends as he reaches a closer earshot, sounding ten years younger than he is.

"DID NOT—," Micheal interjects, his body swiveling back in the other boy's direction, but Elvis is quick to grab Micheal by the collar of his shirt before another fight breaks out.

He pulls the teenager towards him and wraps a heavy arm around his shoulders. Eugene raises an unamused eyebrow at his brother. "Give it a rest you two," Elvis says, laughing. There was a reason he was the fun parent.

Noticing that one of her brothers now has Elvis' attention, Emily slips out of Red's hold and scampers over to him, holding up her arms once again. "Me too, Daddy," she pleads, her tiny fingers grasping at the air.

Humming in amusement at his little girl, Elvis leans down and scoops her into his arms, emitting an exaggerated grunt as he does so. "I'm gettin' too old for this, little miss."

I rub a hand over my stomach thoughtfully, gazing at my husband fondly. No matter what he thought of himself, grey haired or not, thirty-four or seventy-four, he was still the wide-eyed boy I had married.

With the hand not on my stomach, I ruffle Ernest's hair, who had joined us with the rest of the kids on the porch. At twelve, he was four years younger than Micheal and hadn't become too cool for me just yet. He leans into me, his eyes drooping tiredly. Emily is already asleep in Elvis' arms.

"Alright, everyone," I announce, looking to my two younger kids but addressing everyone. "Time for bed."

Sonny, Joe, and Red, as well as the rest of the Mafia members are long gone, headed off for their respective homes by the time I come down the stairs from putting Emily to bed. She had begged for Elvis to sing to her, but with his voice still strained, I thought it best that he rested.

I find him still on the porch, soaking in the last of the cool evening. Elvis turns when he hears the door close behind me, and a smile overtakes his face. He opens his arms to me, pulling me into his chest once I'm close enough. At least, as close as he can with my growing stomach.

“How’re ya doin’, mama?”

I cup his jaw, my thumb stroking his cheek. His hooded doe eyes gaze at me warmly. "I’m doin’ just fine. How are you?”

Elvis rubs soothing circles into my sides. “Couldn’t be better. I’ve got my family, my beautiful, wonderful, amazing’ wife right here with me—”

I stop him, my thumb brushing over his lips. “That’s not really what I meant. You made a comment earlier... 'bout gettin' old... you know there is not a world in which I do not adore you."

He smiles against my thumb. “The grey really gets you goin’ huh? I meant it when I said the baby factory was closed.”

I laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “That doesn’t mean we can’t practice.”

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis presley fic #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n

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hydr0phius · 4 months

Text

Some crack summaries (and just general notes) of Greater Good like how I did with Chaos Rising

Ar'alani: We have technology to aim our weapons with but I'm going to just eyeball this shot here.

...

Thalias: *enters the bridge, is exhausted*

Samakro: Wow, you look like shit.

Thalias: Thanks so much. I really appreciate that.

...

The side of Thaliamakro in this book has me giggling and kicking my feet. If they don't get together romantically I am still here for the friendship. I love them skdjfhsdjf. SAMAKRO SHE'S NOT A SPY THOUGH, MATE-

...

Laknym & Thalias: *open their mouths to explain something to Che'ri or to ask a question of each other while they're down in secondary command*

Kharill: SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thalias: We're-

Kharill: SHHHHHH. NO. NO TALKING. SHUSH.

...

The ominous things being hinted at about the Stybla family's past (the most vicious warriors etc). I'm intrigued. Tell me MORE.

...

*Samakro & Thrawn talking about keeping the Magys on the Springhawk & it's low key an argument*

Samakro: And what do you suppose the Syndicure will think of this?

Lakinda, internally: I hope I don't get dragged into this.

Thrawn: Actually, I wasn't going to tell them *looks at Lakinda*

Lakinda, now officially in the argument: Uhhhh

...

Lakinda: STUPID THRAWN TAKING ALL THE DAMN GLORY!!!!! I DISLIKE THIS MF-

...

Thalias: *wakes up*

The Magys in hibernation:

Thalias: Who the fuck put that the- wait, I said Thrawn and Samakro could put it here. Uh. *proceeds to dress for the day throwing side eye looks at the hibernation chamber and wondering if the magys is just suddenly going to wake up and jump scare her (she's not)*

...

Thalias: *opens the door*

Che'ri, instantly looking inside: WHat's ThAt-

Thalias: A coffin!

Che'ri:

Thalias:

Che'ri: That's a bit weird.

Thalias: The Magys is in hibernation to stop her from offing herself.

Che'ri: o h.

...

Ba'kif: *giving the new orders for Thrawn to be shifted out to the Paataatus again, except there's a lot of political shit going on at the same time*

Samakro: *needling for a bit more info in a subtle way*

Thrawn: *no fucking idea what's happening, but not too pleased about going to the Paataatus hive-home world when he's got a Magys in hibernation in Thalias' room and a puzzle to solve back on Sunrise*

...

Jixtus having music and beanbags at his meeting with Haplif. Haplif struggling to get out of the beanbag with dignity. Jixtus telling him he should bird watch more often.

...

Thurfian: *frothing at the mouth with sheer rage after hearing about the scuffle over Sunrise with the unknown dreadnaught + Lakinda's assistance*

Zistalmu: *approaches*

Thurfian, internally: What if I just laid into him? What if I gave him a verbal lashing? A bit of a tickle up? I'd feel better if I tore something to shreds-

(Also Thurfian): Don't do that. Focus on the end game. FOCUS ON THE END GAME.

Zistalmu: You look happy.

Thurfian: Fuck you-

...

Lakjiip: Look at this *hands Lakuviv the metal report from the Agbui jewellery*

Lakuviv:

Lakuviv: THat's fucKING NYIX ALLOY-

Lakjiip: I KNOW

...

Haplif: *does anything*

Lakphro: What are you planning??? I'll find out. I'll know-

...

Lakjiip: Tell no one of these brooches.

Lakphro: Of course.

*later*

Lakphro: *calls his cousin who is married to a scientist who has connections with other scientists that work with metals etc* Hey so there's this jewellery I'm going to send it to you in the mail-

...

Lakbulbup: Send it through express post.

Lakphro: Have you SEEN the rates for that lately????

...

Qilori of fucking Uandualon. Back again and causing havoc we're all going to see later. He's going to be the reason the skywalkers are targeted by the Grysk, isn't he...

...

Shimkif: Marry me.

Haplif: wHAt-

Shimkif: It'll gain Yoponek and Yomie's trust. It'll be fake too

Haplif: Oh ok.

...

Shimkif: Sorry I was gone so long. I was busy poisoning birds.

Haplif: Amazing.

Yomie: I found another migration up north.

Haplif, internally: No the hell you did not-

...

Haplif: I don't like birds. I've had enough of birds.

Shimkif: *poisons Yomie*

Haplif: Nice, we're out of here.

***

RIP Yomie, you had the brains to figure the Agbui out, but your silly fiancé did not and now we're in a bit of a pickle. Haplif giving Yoponek the brooch he took from Yomie's corpse to Yoponek and telling him she left it for him to pin it to her dress on their wedding day when they met again and Yoponek just believing that day will come and meanwhile Yomie's floating in the damn VOID-

I'm sad about them.

...

Ar'alani: You need to identify yourselves.

Battle Dreadnaught: We've been begged by the people of this world to protect them from threats.

Ar'alani: Oh, so you've talked with the Magys, too?

BD: The what?

Ar'alani: The leader of the people of Sunrise.

BD: Never heard of it.

BD: We were begged though. We will get rid of you if you don't leave.

Ar'alani: Mate-

...

Ar'alani: You need to bring that asteroid's missile with you

Lakinda: Ok.

*later & with no asteroid missile (too slow to get it out intact in time to provide aid to the Vigilant)*

Ar'alani: uUUhhhhh we might not do well with this now...

*more battle. Lakinda lays into the damaged side of the Dreadnaught and pretty much takes it out after Ar'alani draws enemy fire to her ship.*

Ar'alani: Yeah, nice.

...

Lakinda: Oh my stars, what if Thrawn's not even that good? What if it was just Ar'alani all along- no. No, he is good. He just learned from the best. *is a little bit obsessed with Ar'alani and Thrawn's history*

...

Ar'alani: Ok, Csilla said you have to go help Thrawn with the pirates, but I know you have beef with him-

Lakinda: I do NOT have beef with Thrawn.

Ar'alani: You get this annoyed look and tone whenever you interact with him even if he's not being annoying.

Ar'alani: Anyway, as Admiral I can just keep you here if you don't want to go.

Lakinda: No, it's fine.

Ar'alani: Sure.

...

HHhhh ok. Haplif is getting so much Chiss info and Lakuviv and Co. are completely unaware they're being played and I'm scared about how this whole thing with the Nyix mines is going to play out.

...

Lakbulbup: Hey so there's this guy called Senior Captain Thrawn and he's good with analysing art-

Lakphro: Yeah fine. Send the brooch to him.

...

Captain Fsir: aaaaa help, we're being attacked by Vagaari scouts.

Thrawn, off mic to the bridge crew: This is a set up.

...

Thrawn: I have a plan but I need to see inside your ship first.

Fsir: What-

(He got invited over and took them down so fast at the "pirate base" because of it lmao).

...

Lakooni: *comm dies after she sends the emergency family summons* LAKUVIV. Your comm is shiet

Lakuviv: That officer you were talking to was me, I'm sorry it had to go this way *pulls a blaster on her* if you'll follow me to my private rooms-

Lakooni, absolutely furious: I'm going to fuck you up so bad for this, do you even know? Do you know what you've unleashed? I'll end your entire career, you backstabbing son of a bi-

Lakuviv: *raises blaster a bit higher*

Lakooni: FIne.

(I can't be the only one whose mind went straight to the gutter and wondered if AO3 had anything with them jxfkjeasdfkjsd)

...

Every time someone says "yeah, we'll swing by," (which is a lot actually now that I think about it) gave me a bit of a giggle. It made conversation feel more real.

...

Lakinda when the summons came through: Ok but does Thrawn NEED me there? no. He just needs my ship *leaves*

...

Apros when Grayshrike eventually meets up with Springhawk: Lakinda got called away on a family emergency order put out to all CEDF Xodlak that weren't in immediate battles or on critical missions.

Thrawn, pissed: WHAt-

Samakro, also pissed and angry at Apros: DID YOU TRY TO STOP HER?

Apros, not able to be pissed with Thrawn because he's higher rank, but able to be pissed with Samakro because they're the same rank and therefore fair game: YES. WHY THE FUCK WOULD I NOT?

Apros: oh btw, Thrawn, she said this had come for you *gives him Lakphro's brooch*

Thrawn: Ooh, pretty.

...

Thrawn to the Magys: Wakey wakey, do you know what this is? *holds up the brooch*

The Magys: The work of my people. It looks new, though.

Thalias: surprise, they're not dead.

The Magys: There is hope!

*when they've put The Magys back into hibernation*

Thrawn: We also have three families being scammed.

Samakro: *grumpy noises*

...

Lakinda, just woken up: What do you want?

Thrawn over comms: You're being scammed. There are no mines. It's a set up.

Lakinda: Damn.

Thrawn: I have a plan though!

Lakinda once he's explained: From the bottom of my heart, what the fuck-

Samakro: That's insane actually.

Thrawn: Well if you two come up with anything better, let me know <3

...

Samakro convincing everyone that Thrawn's plans are strictly military and that he's got no clue with politics and doesn't know how to play them anyway (which is still wild to me tbh. I don't believe it) and then even convincing himself on it too/that Thrawn's their best commander even if his plans are insane sometimes.

...

I'm still processing the 3 families showdown over Sunrise but Thrawn's plan worked a treat even with family politics fucking up Lakinda's end (my girl got thrown in the brig for talking to Thrawn/warning him that at the end of this the embarrassment at finding out they were being scammed would have worse fallout than the actual fight that they didn't think of when they were making the plan).

...

Lakinda: Oh my gods it was Ar'alani copying Thrawn's tactics the whole time-

...

Thyklo: Patriarch Thooraki is dead.

Thurfian: Ah. Condolences.

Thyklo: You're replacing him.

Thurfian: It is an honour.

Thurfian, internally: holy FUCK- Zistalmu is going to lose his damn mind lmfao.

#thrawn ascendancy: greater good #hydro rambles #thrawn #ar'alani #thalias #samakro #che'ri #ba'kif #haplif #jixtus #lakinda #thurfian #lakphro #lakuviv #lakooni #laknym

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saintgoths · 1 year

Text

ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ɴᴀᴍᴇ

LEVI ACKERMAN X READER - CALL ME BY MY NAME. [AOT AU]

[PART TWO TO THE REALM'S DIAMOND SERIES].

WORD COUNT - 2,641.

RATING - 18+. [sex shaming, slut shaming, fat shaming and sexual thoughts].

[she also has other pairings thus the hashtags but its mainly levi x reader].

SUMMARY - two days after the annual ball and dozens of suitors step into your home gardens to pursue you, but you only have your eyes on one man, one unavailable suitor. levi ackerman.

if this reaches more than 75+ notes maybe i'll do part three? feedback, liking and reblogging [and following] would be appreciated!

It had been categorically two days from the annual ball and business that centred around you had developed into something heavier and diligent than you could’ve ever imagined, you were already an incredibly courted woman but it had seemed like the numbers of men that had wanted to entreat and propose to you had generously increased. Normally, you were used to viciously large numbers of attention but what you had been going through now was nothing compared to previous assiduity and heed.

Your mother was of course delighted to see the after effects of how well the annual ball year had been treating you along with your father, but you, yourself? You were unsure, even though you were normally an assured lady, the amount of absorption you have received had made you anxious about making the wrong move, moreover, had made you anxious in disappointing your family.

You had spent majority of your day getting ready by the help of your maids and other servants that mainly served you in your home, they had put you in one of your best gowns and hairstyles, every second you had felt one of them tug you by your hair or by your limb to get you into the perfect image the realm knew you as.

The dress they had put you in had light pink tones and the silhouette of the gown had made your waist appear thinner than it naturally was, the display was beautiful and quite simple but with the way your curls had framed your face, it had made your appearance elevate into the alluring and refined mask you have grown accustomed to. Your breast was pushed up to the heavens, howbeit the dress wasn’t as tight as the fabric you wore in the annual ball.

Currently, you had been accompanied by Jean Kirstein, a rich man who belonged to a kind-hearted family and was heir to the Kirstein mining bequest. You had always known Sir Kirstein to be a handsome man with his regal features and slightly long hair, he knew how to dress and had the charisma that would make any type of women blush and flutter under. He was not one of the first suitors to appear to you today and if you were being ingenuous, you were tired and wanted to sit down and eat cake, but you had commissions to conquest, it was the least you could do for your family.

Jean had belonged to a successful mining company in Oscaar, so your parents were blithe to hear about Sir Kirstein entering the van Richesse quads to court their daughter. However, when you saw, him be guided to your direction, you were in fact surprised to see him. “I’d say that you attempting to court me is quite tactful in your ends,” you commented, your hands were clasped behind your back and you had a smile written on your face while the side of your eyes checked the suitor who walked beside you.

Chiefly, the suitor who walked beside you was known for his interest in Lady Mikasa Ackerman, a cousin of Levi Ackerman, forthwith, she had lived in the country of Oscaar that was known for its great beaches, the country of Oscaar was also known for its great alliance with the du Aurous country. The two nations had been associated with each other ever since the First Great War and you had loved going there for holiday.

“Well, Lady Mikasa doesn’t have her sights on me as much as I do for her,” Jean kindly informed, his body had slightly twisted towards your direction and you could tell by the look of his face he had attempted to hide his hurt, “she’s been too infatuated with Sir Eren Yeager, that gripping man,” he silently uttered, his brief intel had commenced you to perk up the both of your eyebrows, briskly astonished by what you had been told.

Hastily, the moment you had shared with Eren two days ago in the annual ball had quickly brushed in your mind, how so you had wanted to forget what had happened but the way he had played and toyed with your clit had caused your cunt to pulse with greed. Quickly, you had tucked your bottom lips behind your teeth as you had attempted to make yourself forget and return to the conversation you had currently shared with Sir Kirstein, quickly, you had smiled, in efforts to also make him forget about what had made him capsized. “Well, Sir Kirstein, has there been other ladies that have caught your attention?”

“None that are as pretty as you,” he charmingly smiled which had caused you to roll your eyes dramatically as you had humorously pushed him away from you, charismatically, he laughed as he balanced himself with his left foot ere he returned to his spot and resumed his conversation with you.

The consultation had lasted for a few moments until one of the staff of the manor had sauntered towards you, their slim figure accompanied by a definite face that had Sir Kirstein automatically look down in respect. “Sir Ackerman has arrived Lady van Richesse,” the staff respectfully stated which had induced you to kindly bid Jean a farewell, before you joined Levi into a consultation; yet, before Jean had left, he had made sure he marked a kiss against the back of your right hand formerly leaving the grounds with the staff that had guided Mr. Ackerman to you.

“Jean Kirstein?” Levi thoughtfully pondered and without speaking you had beckoned your head in response to his brief ask, in thought, he had hummed in response ere, looking around the courts of the van Richesse garden, “I noticed how upset I left you the other day,” Levi dryly stated and without a verbal answer you had returned your clasp hands behind your back while accompanying the Ackerman.

The silence between the two of you was brief and to make sure he knew that you weren’t upset anymore, you gently smiled in his direction. “I got over it,” you dryly aided, you had then moved both of your closed hands in front of your stomach and straightened your back, you were being honest, you did get over it, the abundance of pleasure Eren had given you two days ago had walked forcibly over the dull emotions Levi had shortly left you in. Furthermore, you had conjectured why Levi had arrived to the van Richesse manor, did he come all the way to make you feel better? It did not really seem like something he would do, even if you had barely been familiar with him, you could tell Mr. Ackerman was not a man to come all the way to apologise.

“So why am I gifted with your presence good sir? Did you come all the way to make sure I wasn’t upset?” You curiously questioned, by some means knowledgeable that your question wasn’t after a fashion correct. Amused, Levi glanced away from you, his smile cramped but bona fide.

“I didn’t know Jean Kirstein was a suitor,” he placidly restored, deliberately avoiding your question, miffed, you had bucked both of your eyebrows upwards but decided not to comment his calculated avert.

“I didn’t know he would be one of my suitors as well, knowing how he has his sights on your cousin, Mikasa,” you truthfully informed, your face stamped with a jocose smile, “but Sir Kirstein said that she doesn’t feel the same way as him, so now he’s trying to court me.”

“Well do you like him?”

Undaunted you gently bounced your shoulders; you have known Jean Kirstein for quite some time but you never really considered yourself to be romantically attracted to him. “Well, he’s handsome and charismatic but that’s all I can say for now.”

“Lady van Richesse!”

Erwin Smith’s figure slowly unblurred into the both of your visions, his shape optimistic and proud, once the tall man recognised the dark-haired brute that stood beside you, he had attentively beckoned his head in deference. “Mr. Ackerman, good to see you,” his eyes shape-fully inquisitive to why Levi Ackerman had been in the van Richesse courts, it had been established that Mr. Ackerman was not looking for marriage so truthfully, he had been taking up the time other men who were engrossed for marriage could’ve been in.

“Sir. Smith,” Levi kindly greeted, the stance between the two of them, you could discern that both of the gentlemen might’ve known each other thoroughly.

It took small gestures for Levi to understand that Erwin had wanted to accompany you for now, he was quick to switch places with the Smith man and he had barely bid the both of you a goodbye, you had pressed your lips into a thin line, slowly becoming familiar with how coarse the shorter man could be. “We’ve known each other since University, he is one of the smartest men I know, but incredibly impolite when he feels like it.”

“Noted,” you dryly chuckled, sincerely, you did not want to see Levi leave, verily, no matter how blunt and straightforward he was, you liked his presence. Mayhap, it was his deep voice, dry humour and steel blue eyes or perhaps it was just due to how vehement and carnal you thought him to be.

“I’ve been told today has been very busy for you, Lady van Richesse, I already knew you were heavily cultivated but the number of men that have arrived to see you today has made me even more competitive than I naturally am, should’ve expected it from the Realm’s Diamond,” he calmly spoke, however, no matter how calm he attempted to display himself, there was a slight shakiness to his tone that had delineated that he was slightly bothered.

In spite of his bugged demeanour, Erwin had sleekly smiled and it seemed that his eyebrows had lives of their own as the two pieces furrowed down making his face seem more animated than it usually was, respectfully you had held in your laughter and stayed curious to what he was going to say. “What makes it worse is that you’re not clear on who you’re going to pick, but I know for sure you’re not going to pick Sir. Argent.”

Indecently you had burst into laughter, everyone with working eyes or ears could tell that you did not like Sir. Argent, moreover, it was clear to everyone that the over-sized man would be nowhere found in your list of men you’d likely pick. “You never know he’s quite the charmer,” you dryly exaggerated.

“If he’s one of your top three suitors then that means I have to get my star quality up,” he promptly delivered, barrenly you laughed and continued to jaunt down the healthy grass of the garden, time had passed within the interval you shared with Erwin Smith, and during your shared time with him you couldn’t stop thinking about the Ackerman who had presented himself to you a couple of moments ago, compared to Levi, Erwin was a fresh breath of air and hadn’t made you feel as intense as darker styled man.

Furthermore, Erwin was the last suitor for the day and you had been relieved to finally be left alone, you had quickly made way to the path of your home building and had noticed that the night lights had been afire for the people who were still outside. You couldn’t wait to take off your garment and rest against your cot, perhaps you would even slip in a moment where you’d please yourself, it normally helps yourself feel better.

“[Y/N]?”

Tired, you had curved your body to the owner of the voice, your state too exhausted to make note to who labelled you. On the other hand, you could tell that this person wasn’t from your home, and what had made you slightly alert was that they had called you from a first name basis, only your closest ones or the imperial of du Aurous called you by your first name.

“Sir Argent, how did you get in here?”

Your eyes wide, his appearance had jolted you to be alert, you hadn’t expected it but you had felt a rush of fear speed through your nerves. You had looked around the atmosphere, pondered who allowed Sir. Argent into the van Richesse grounds, perhaps it was your intuition that had grasped the nearing danger, and you were an inch close for calling for guards. “I was doing business with your father,” you had held back your snort, no matter how much you loved your father, you disliked the fact that he was willing to do business with anyone, yet you kept your reaction and thoughts to yourself, protective over yourself, you had hugged your body then gently looked the Argent man up and down.

“It’s late,” you shortly replied, “you should be going back to the home you’re staying at for now,” you kindly suggested, as you slightly twisted your body to return to the direction of your chambers you gently beckoned your head towards Sir. Argent’s route then took a couple of steps away from your current spot.

“Today must’ve been very tiring for you,” Sir. Argent directly commented and lightly you sighed.

“It has been, so I wish for you to you allow me to get some sleep for tomorrow,” you curtly replied.

“I know what you did with Eren Yeager at the night of the annual ball.”

Fuck.

Your intuition was correct, you had sensed the danger the moment you observed it was Sir. Argent who had called you; and knowing the type of man he is, he would be the type to spread gossip if something did not go his way. “If word gets out that you’ve been defiled by Eren Yeager, you’ll no longer be perceived as the Realm’s Diamond.”

“The realm will not listen to a fat and greedy person like you,” you rudely retorted.

“But they’ll listen to a man,” he delivered.

Speechless, you had watched him move closer to you, his gaze malicious and intentions impure, “your value will go down and all the suitors that you have in your palm will disappear one by one.”

Angry you had gazed up at him, you could feel your stomach churn by the gaze and scent of that belonged to him, but you had to keep up your confident stance, your fists clenched you had once again looked him up and down. “What are you playing at?” You seethed, your nose had flared during the moment you had tried to hold back your tears, all the hard-work gone down the drain, all because of this incompetent man.

“I’ll give you the choice to marry me,” he simply answered, “and if you do, I won’t say anything and live by the fact that you are impure and had allowed your cherry to be popped by an inefficient man. I’ll be generous and give you two weeks to make up your mind, but for the sake of yourself and for your family. I hope you make the correct choice,” his speech ended with an achieved smile, he was quick to bop your nose with his right index finger, his face so close to yours, you had sworn he had aimed to kiss you, but he didn’t, him not kissing you was the only relief you had felt within the conversation he shared with you.

Moreover, within the five next seconds he had finally left, leaving you in a conflicting mess, never you had felt so threaten by an outsider due to the usual protection you’d receive from your parents, howbeit, with the intel he was willing to spread you knew you wouldn’t gain the protection your parents would normally give to you but the pressure to marry Sir. Argent.

masterlist

♆

#levi ackerman #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #erwin smith #levi ackerman x you #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein x you #erwin smith x you #levi ackerman x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jearn kirschstein x reader #erwin smith x reader #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyoujin x reader

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leothil · 8 months

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Hi Frida, amazing job on finishing the 10k!! Can I ask, have you been running for a long time? Do you have tips on how to like… start and staying consistent? I wanna try running, but I deal with a bit of chronic pain on top of being in absolute rubbish shape. I cant afford the gym so I thought walks and runs would be best but I struggle even getting out the door. How do you do it? 🙃

Thank you so much! <3 I've been doing it on and off since my mid or late teens, mostly in the summer. My dad has been going on runs for as long as I can remember, and a lot of my cousins picked it up around the same time I did as the easiest way to work out at our summer place, so I kind of fell into it that way. But I've come to quite like it! Before this summer I'd not been running regularly for quite a while, and I'm still not back to the pace I could achieve 5-7 years ago, but I'm sure I can get there.

I'll put my answer under a read more to spare the dash!

I feel the struggle of getting out the door! Getting started and trying to get into a routine is so, so hard. I honestly think the thing that has helped me the most is that my dad has kept encouraging me. I live very close to my parents, so most weekends he asks if I want to join them for a run, and when I was following a schedule this summer (more on that soon) he helped keep me accountable. Having someone join you can make it more fun, since you'll have someone to talk to, but just having someone in your life who can gently encourage you in a way that won't make you push back or feel bad about yourself can be a godsend. My dad could run so much faster if he wanted to, but he says it's nice to keep my pace too, because it gives him a different kind of training.

And that leads us into point two: you don't need to go fast when you start out. Hell, you don't need to go fast even after doing it for months or years. While you run, you should still be able to talk. I heard someone use the rule of thumb that a good pace is when you can finish a sentence without having to take extra breaths more than once. It can feel very silly, but it's very beneficial to keep a pace you can sustain for longer. In the race last night, I started out quite slow and was among the last in my starting group, but as it went on, I passed several people who'd gone too fast in the beginning and now were so winded that they had to walk the rest of the way, while I could keep my calm pace the whole race (except some hills that I had to walk up to spare my poor heart).

Having a sports watch that monitors my heart rate has also been incredibly helpful. I have a very high pulse whenever I work out, for whatever reason, and being able to check my watch regularly to see where it's at helps me keep my pace at a manageable level while running. It's easy to get carried away e.g. in downhill slopes or when you hit a good part of a trail, and this is a very easy way to catch when I'm speeding up before it hits my breath. If it's not in your budget, monitoring your breathing can help in the same way, following the "you need to be able to talk" rule I mentioned above.

What got me started with running again this summer was my sister asking me to join her on a 10k race, so having a goal can definitely help with the motivation. It can be time sensitive (like mine was) or just "I want to be able to run x kilometers without stopping." What I did was I found a 10k training program that looked promising and then followed that schedule for a couple of months. There are a lot of free programs available on the internet; couch to 5k is a well known one that I've seen several people try. And if all of them seem like too many days of working out a week, don't be afraid to keep the general structure but put in more rest days as needed. I wouldn't be able to follow the same 10k program right now, for example, as all of my hobbies have started up again and thus keep some evenings too busy to have time for a run as well, but I'm trying to keep the general idea of "one long run, one shorter run, two days of non-running activity and one very slow run a week." I don't hit all of those things every week - this week I did one day of non-running activity, one shorter run and one long run - but it's something I can aim for. For a while in the mid-2010's I used the app Zombies, Run! to keep me motivated, as it gave me little story snippets as I progressed on that day's run (it's apparently called ZRX now? Wild). In that app you can choose either time or distance as your goal for the day, and it will split up the story snippets accordingly. Now when I go on runs alone I listen to either a podcast or music, depending on the mood.

Man, that's a lot of text, but the main points are a) it's okay to go slow in fact you should aim for it when starting out, b) having someone to talk to or something to listen to while you do it can help a lot, and c) a schedule helps keep you accountable. While I followed the program this summer I had a screenshot of it as a shortcut on my phone's home screen so I had to see it every time I unlocked the phone, and every time I completed a workout/run I edited the screenshot to cross over that day on the schedule, which was incredibly satisfying.

Please come back if you have more questions or want me to elaborate on something! Getting started is the hardest part, but allowing yourself to suck in the beginning is very freeing and lowers the threshold!

#ask frida #running #anon

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anechomirrored · 2 years

Text

Fandom: Undertale

Rating: G

Prompt(s): "That was not my intention."

Warnings: Melodramatic celebrity is having feels

There was a lot to think about when lying on the floor and feeling like trash.

Like how show business was everything you thought it'd be. Full of drama, passion and baking segments.

You could think of how far you'd come from that happy little ghost no one'd heard of and that dumpy little snail farm.

From having spent your days wandering the dump in search of human media with juicy plots and musical numbers.

You could think of your cousins and that phone call you got just after putting on the Underground's most highly rated show ever made.

Oh.

Now he remembered why he had lay down on the floor in the first place.

Mettaton let out an audible sigh.

World weary...No.

Melancholy?

Yes...that sounded right.

He had only ever wanted to get away. To leave his simple life and simple form. To be someone, someone new, beautiful and popular. To become a star.

Working with Alphys had opened the door to a new life, a new life that he had left his cousin behind for.

No explination, no goodbye, not even a note!

"Oh, Blooky..." Mettaton threw an arm over his eyes as he lamented his desertion to the ceiling.

Did his cousin recognise him when the MTT broadcasts started? Surely not! The bodies old and new that Alphys had made for him were nothing like Mettaton's previous non corporeal form.

That's why he loved them. They allowed him to finally feel like himself...

But in all the excitement, belonging and the showbiz, Mettaton had cut ties with the one part of his old life worth keeping.

"That was never my intention." He wasn't crying.

No way was that about to happen.

"U-um, ... Mettaton?" Alphys stammered.

"Alphys, not now. I am having a character moment."

"S-sorry, it's just... I haven't finished securing that arm yet...a-a-and I need it back."

Mettaton peeked from under said arm before heaving another sigh and putting it back where Alphys could finish reattaching it.

"Wh-why don't you...I-I mean, you could visit them. Your cousin?" Alphys tugged gently on a few wires as she reattached them.

"...Visit?" He asked, staring at the ceiling.

"Y-yeah." Alphys reached for a screwdriver.

All at once Mettaton sprang up from the floor.

"OH YESS!" He crowed, performing a perfect pirouette. "A visit!"

"Mettaton!!" Squeaked Alphys as the Underground's biggest clelebrity began blustering about his green room.

(In truth the green room was actually quite pink...and glittery!)

"Oh yes, Darling! I must arrange to visit...Or maybe ask Blooky here?" Mettaton was pacing, each heel turn paired with a dramatic gesture worthy of the stage.

"Mettaton..."

"Oh, but what would I even say? What will Blooky do?"

"Mettaton?" Alphys words were met with another dramatic flourish as the robot celebrity flung himself onto the nearby fainting couch.

The cloud of glitter that flew up and into the air from the impact only served to physically manifest his inner conflict...at least for him it did.

"Oh, what if Blooky doesn't want to be my cousin anymore?"

"Mettaton!!" Alphys shouted.

The glitter fluttered to the floor.

Once more Mettaton removed his arm from his magenta eyes to look at his friend.

"What is it, Alphys darling? I am rather busy-"

"Napstablook won't hate you." Alphys interrupted.

"Th-they miss you, Mettaton. They said they like you on the sh-show and I-I'm sure they'll be happy to see you ... no matter what." Alphys softened a bit at the end.

"You... you really think so?" Asked Mettaton, a bit taken aback.

"Yes...now let me finish p-putting your arm plate b-b-back on." Alphys reached for a spanner only to be caught up in one of the most theatrical twirling hugs she had ever experienced.

"Thank you, Darling! I'll call Blooky as soon as you finish. You are amazing! " Mettaton gushed.

Now it was Alphys turn to sigh.

"N-next t-t-time remind me to leave reattaching your legs for last!"

#fictober22 #undertale #mettaton #dramatic flourishes #alphys #death by glamour #robot having feelings #late to the party #will write for the prompts when i can though #echoes transcribed

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itsadamcole · 3 years

Text

handsome stranger

fem!reader x drew mcintyre

Drew has just moved next door to the reader and noticed her sitting in the window alone on Christmas Eve watching the snow fall ... "hi, i couldn't help but notice you were alone."

word count: 3.8k+

warnings: soft smut, some fluff, cute moments, idrk what else

— day fourrr. i’m doing good and trying my best here to get one christmas / holiday / winter themed imagine up everyday. feel free to send in any requests if you want one written —

masterlist || request an imagine here

~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit on the little window sill in your living room, holding a mug of hot chocolate in your hand. You watch as the snow falls from the sky.

Snow is so beautiful. Especially the fluffy white kind. It makes everything shimmer and sparkle, and it's the only thing that makes the holiday season bearable.

Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your arms are wrapped around your knees. You're wearing your comfortable Christmas pajamas, considering it is Christmas Eve.

Christmas music plays in the background as you remember the times you spent dancing with your fiancée in the living room, lit only by the fireplace. Now, you sit alone, with the only light coming from the fireplace.

It's been three years since he left, but it hurts knowing that you spent seven Christmases and seven New Years with him just for him to leave you for someone he met at the gym.

You watch as a silhouette walks alone in the snow on the sidewalk outside of your house. The silhouette stops at the stairs leading up to your house.

The silhouette walks up the stairs and as it gets closer, you realize that it's about six foot five with jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. You get up when the doorbell to your house rings.

After setting the mug of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, you walk to the front door. You open it, revealing a very handsome stranger. He says, "Hi, I couldn't help but notice ya were alone."

He has an accent but you can't put a finger on where it could be from. You lean against the door as you try to figure out what kind of accent he has and say, "It's not unusual."

"No one should be alone on Christmas," the handsome stranger says.

You blink and say, "You're alone on Christmas. Well, you were walking alone, anyway."

He laughs a little bit and says, "That I was. I like the snow. It's peaceful and reminds me a lot about Scotland."

That accent did sound a lot like a Scottish accent but you weren't sure. It has an American twist to it though.

"Scotland," you echo. "You're a little far from home."

The handsome stranger nods and says, "I am. I just moved in, right over there." He points to the house right next to yours. "I can't afford to fly back home this year because I just bought the house so I am also alone this Christmas."

You look back at your empty house and say, "I just made hot chocolate if you'd like to come in. Maybe we don't actually have to be alone this Christmas. It'd be a nice change actually." You move to the side.

He flashes you a kind smile and walks into the house. You close the door, rubbing your arms to warm them up. You walk back into the kitchen, pouring a mug of hot chocolate for your guest. "Would you like marshmallows or whipped cream?" you ask.

"Whipped cream sounds nice," he says. "Thank ya." You nod and put some whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate in the mug. You offer him the mug and he takes a sip.

The hot chocolate is more lukewarm than hot so he won't burn his tongue.

After he sips the hot chocolate, he has whipped cream in his mustache and on his nose. You giggle a bit and say, "Um, you have whipped cream on your nose."

"Oh," he says. "Do I?"

You smile and say, "Here. Let me get it." You grab a clean cloth off the counter and wipe away the whipped cream. "There. It's gone now."

The handsome stranger smiles down at you and says, "Thank ya."

You put the cloth down and give him a little nod before leaving the kitchen and walking into the living room to grab your mug. The nameless but handsome stranger follows you.

"I never caught your name," you point out as you turn to face him.

He laughs softly before saying, "I never threw it, but it's Drew. Drew McIntyre."

You smile and say, "Y/N L/N. How long have you lived here? I can tell you have an American accent mixed with the Scottish accent."

Drew sips his hot chocolate and says, "I've lived here off and on since the better part of thirteen years or so, since 2007."

You've sat down on the couch by this point. Drew joins you as you ask, "What do you do that keeps you in America?"

Hesitantly, he says, "I'm a professional wrestler for WWE. I'm actually WWE Champion right now."

"WWE," you echo. "My brother has always wanted to wrestle for WWE and has gone to every tryout but never got signed. He's in Ring of Honor and PWG right now. I've never been into wrestling. I'm more of a softball person. I played in college."

Drew says, "Maybe I get help get yer brother through the door in WWE. I might be able to get him signed to at least NXT but he's gotta prove himself."

You smile and say, "You'd do that for him?"

The handsome stranger nods as he takes another sip of his drink. "Yeah," he says. "I'd like to see him wrestle though so I know that he can actually wrestle."

"He'd love that," you say. "Thank you. I'll call him tomorrow."

Drew nods and says, "Of course."

You smile and take another sip of your hot chocolate.

It's quiet for a few moments before Drew asks, "What do ya do? Like work-wise."

"I'm a fashion designer," you say. "For Gucci. It's a job that I love and it's kept me sane in the past few years. I'd like to open my own shop one day."

He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and says, "That sounds like a lot of fun. Ya must have a very creative mind in that pretty head of yers."

Your face heats up a bit and you say, "Yeah, you can say that." You let out a light laugh. "I try to be creative, anyway."

Drew looks at you for a second before an idea pops into his head and he asks, "Would ya like to design some new ring fer me? I've been needing some new gear and have never really found anyone that I'd trust enough to design some new gear."

You raise your eyebrows at the Scot and say, "You just met me and have already offered to help my brother get into WWE and now you're asking me to help design new ring gear for you? I don't know you well enough to design gear for you."

The handsome stranger says, "It's just an offer. Ya don't have to take it."

"I'd love to but I'd like to get to know you a little bit more before I design anything," you say.

He smiles and says, "I can agree with that. We have all night."

You smile and echo, "All night."

Honestly, you don't mind spending all night with Drew. All night with Drew is better than being alone. Especially on Christmas.

The two of you sip hot chocolate for hours. He explains his journey to the WWE, getting fired then working his way back to WWE, becoming NXT Champion and eventually WWE Champion. It's a long journey but his hard work paid off in the end.

You explain how you got into designing and everything. You always were into fashion and clothes. You majored in fashion design in college while minoring in business and accounting. You omit the part about having a fiancée and him leaving you three years ago.

Drew listens to every word you say and you answer every question he has. You do the same to him, and he answers every question you have for him.

After about two hours of sitting and talking, Drew asks the question you've been dreading.

"What made ya end up alone on Christmas? Don't ya have family?" he asks.

You sigh and say, "I lost both my parents when I was in college in an accident. I have no aunts or uncles or cousins. I have my brother but he's married with kids. I had a fiancée but he left three years ago so I've kind of just been alone on Christmas since."

He waits until you're done talking to say anything.

Once you've said all that you want to, Drew says, "Ya have just been through the wringer, haven't ya?"

You scoff a bit and say, "Through the wringer is an understatement."

Drew asks, "What can I do to help? I can't imagine how ya feel with it being Christmas and ya sitting here alone in this house."

You stare at Drew and say, "You want to help me?"

The handsome stranger nods and says, "Name it and I'll make it happen."

You think for a moment before you say, "Show me some of your matches. I want to see you wrestle. Distract me."

He smiles and pulls up one of his matches on his phone. You move closer to him so you can see easier. It's from Wrestlemania 36. Night two.

"This was when I won my title for the first time," he explains as both his and his opponent's entrances are made. "It's my favorite and the most important match of my career."

You watch as he wins the match and the title in about five minutes. You're a little distracted by the fact that he's wearing practically nothing.

Drew looks at you occasionally as you watch to see your eyes fixated on him on the screen, almost watching in awe. He smiles a bit.

Once the Wrestlemania match is over, he puts on the Royal Rumble match. You ask, "What's this match?"

"It's the match I had to win to face the WWE Champion at the time at Wrestlemania," he explains as it starts. "If I won, which I did, then I can challenge whichever champion I'd like. I chose Brock Lesnar and the WWE Championship."

You watch the long match. When Drew enters, you find yourself biting your lip. You can't help it. He's attractive when he's in the ring. He's attractive just sitting in a hoodie and jeans beside you.

Around entry number 25, you look up at Drew. He's looking down at you.

"You should show me some of these moves one day," you say quietly. His face is close to yours because of how close you are sitting to him.

He smiles a bit and asks, "Which ones?"

You meet his eyes and say, "The ones where you'd pin me to something." Drew's tongue swipes across his bottom lip.

Your heart rate has picked up as you get closer and closer to kissing the handsome stranger.

Drew's voice drops a tone and says, "Now, now, Miss L/N. We've only just met."

He just got a thousand times more attractive by doing that with his voice. Not to mention he's the most selfless human you've ever met. He's obviously very kind. He saw you were alone and offered to spend all night with you.

All this has happened in a span of three or four hours.

You tilt your head up and say, "I said to distract me." You bite your bottom lip gently.

"That's very true," he says, putting his phone down. The eye contact continues.

Drew licks his bottom lip again as the tension continues to build between the two of you. Your heart continues to race in your chest.

You have no idea what's about to happen but it's been three years since you've been this close to anyone. You won't mind whatever comes next.

Your voice has almost dropped to a whisper. "So," you say. "How about showing me some of these moves?"

Drew gives a little smirk before, in one swift movement, he gets you on your back. He's straddling your waist and pinning your wrists to the couch. You stare at him with wide eyes.

"Woah," you gasp.

He laughs a bit and says, "Ya did ask me to show ya some of the moves where I pin ya."

You say, "Mhm. I did ask you to do that."

Drew smiles and gets off of you. You sit up and face him.

An idea pops into your head and you literally pounce on Drew, pinning him on his back on the couch. You know he could very easily flip you over so you try to put all your weight onto him. All 130 pounds of you.

"Hm," he says. "Not too bad."

You giggle and say, "My brother did practice on me a little bit. Just a little bit."

He smiles and says, "I know a move that he definitely didn't practice on ya."

You raise your eyebrows and ask, "What would that be?"

Drew leans up and kisses you. You gasp a little bit before kissing him back.

As you share the kiss with Drew, he rolls so he's pinning you to the couch again. You stare up at him, pouting. "That's not fair," you whine. "I was distracted."

He laughs and says, "Ya told me to distract ya."

You pout some more as Drew looks down at you. "You can't just kiss someone then pin them to the couch," you say.

The kiss was something you haven't experienced since your fiancée left. Yes, you've kissed people since your fiancée said goodbye but none of those kisses felt like the kiss you just shared with Drew.

Speaking of Drew, he sits up and pulls you up with him. You throw your legs across his lap and look at him.

"Can I kiss ya again?" he asks. "So I can make it up to ya?"

You say, "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Drew."

Drew's lips come down to yours. The kiss is as soft and as slow as it was before. Hesitantly, you put your hands on his face, cupping his cheek.

That's when you feel the soft ache in your core from Drew pinning you to the couch. It was so hot. You could barely contain yourself when he pinned you not once but twice to the couch.

One of Drew's hands rests on your thigh extremely close to your core. You take his hand and pull back from the kiss. You both look at his hand in yours before you move his hand so it's resting on your core.

Hopefully, the handsome stranger can't feel how wet you are for him over your pajama pants.

"What do ya want, Y/N?" he asks softly, his accent thick. "Tell me what ya want."

You meet his eyes and say, "I want you to kiss me, touch me. I want you."

That's all Drew needs to hear before he pulls you onto his lap. You straddle his thighs and your lips are on his. You gently grind against him, a soft groan escaping his lips into your mouth.

Your hands snake up the front of Drew's hoodie. You find he's wearing just the hoodie on his upper body. You can feel his toned stomach and hairy chest. You run your fingers down his chest before you decide to pull off his hoodie.

Drew helps you pull off the piece of clothing. As soon as it's off, you press kisses to his neck and chest. His fingers run through your hair.

His fingers have found their way up the back of your shirt, pushing the fabric up. Nervously, you pull off your pajama shirt, fully exposing your upper body to Drew.

You watch as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he eyes your naked upper body.

This is very nerve-wracking. You haven't been with anyone since your fiancé left. This is the first time you've even been half-naked around anyone else.

Drew sees your hands begin to shake and he takes them in his. "We don't have to do anything, Y/N," he says, meeting your eyes.

"No I want to," you say, sighing. "It's just, I haven't been with anyone like this in years. It's making me nervous."

He smiles at you and says, "Ya don't have to be nervous, Y/N. I don't bite unless ya ask of course."

Smiling, you say, "I might just take you up on that." Your nerves begin to wash away as Drew leans up, kissing you passionately. His hands are on your bare lower back, pushing you into him and holding you there.

"Drew," you mumble. "Let's not make a mess on my cushions."

He pulls back and asks, "Take this upstairs?"

You nod. He picks you up as he stands up. You giggle and wraps your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You leave soft kisses on his chest as he carries you upstairs.

Drew asks, "Which room?"

You look behind you and say, "The door at the end of the hallway. That's my room."

He walks quickly to your room before he walks in, quickly but carefully dropping you on the bed. You sit up and start to undo his belt and the button on his jeans before you pull the jeans down.

Drew is straining against his boxer shorts. You look up at him with your eyes before you trace his erect member over the thin piece of fabric.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers before slowly pulling the fabric down. You watch as his member pops out of the boxers, slapping up against his stomach. Your eyes widen as you wonder how you're going to take all of Drew.

Drew runs his fingers through your hair as he stands in front of you. You glance up at him before you take him in your hand. You lick his tip before starting to take him in your mouth.

Slowly, you bob your head up and down, going a little deeper every time you go down. Your hands are on his thighs and groans escape his lips as you start to suck.

His fingers run through your hair as he begins to thrust into your mouth slowly. You groan softly as he hits the back of your throat. Your nails dig into the skin on his thighs as you move your head.

After a few minutes of this, Drew pulls himself out of your mouth. He leans down and presses a kiss to your saliva covered lips. It was a messy job that made saliva drip down your chin and cover your lips.

He pushes you onto your back and gets on his knees at the foot of your bed. Drew hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and panties before he pulls them off of you. You throw your legs over his shoulders as he kisses your thighs, moving closer and closer to your soaked folds.

You hold onto the blankets on your bed as Drew kisses your wet core. You sigh softly and arch your back off the bed.

Drew's tongue runs through your folds before he slips a finger into you. You moan softly as he pumps his finger in and out of you. He sucks on your clit and you moan louder, your hands finding their way into his long hair. You grip lightly as Drew adds a second finger.

"Drew," you moan. "Please."

He looks up at you with his eyes and asks, "Please what?"

You look down at him and say, "I need something other than your fingers. Please."

You pull lightly at his hair, wanting him on top of you. He smirks before taking his fingers out of you, making you whine slightly as you watch him step out of his jeans.

"Um," he says. "Protection."

Right. Protection. "Top drawer in the table next to the bed," you say. He nods and walks over to your bedside table. You move backward and sit up. Drew pulls a tiny shiny blue package out of the drawer, opening it up and sliding the contents on his member.

Drew crawls over to you and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips as he moves, laying on top of you between your legs. He positions himself outside of you and pulls back from the kiss.

He looks down at you and asks, "Do ya really want this?"

Nodding, you say, "I do. I really want this. I really want you."

After leaning down and kissing you again, he slowly slides himself into you. You moan into the kiss as he slides himself deeper into you.

Drew puts his hands on either side of your head and props himself up with his arms, breaking away from the kiss. You stare up at the Scotsman as he starts to thrust into you. You gasp and moan, gripping onto his arms and digging your nails into the skin on his arm.

His thrusts get faster and deeper into you. Your moans get louder and your back arches off the bed.

It's when he starts to slam into your g-spot you start to scream his name. Your hips chase his and your moans are loud.

"Drew!" you moan. "Don't stop, oh God. Please don't stop. Please."

You feel him start to get faster as your legs start to shake, being pulled closer and closer to your orgasm. You make a little 'O' with your mouth and Drew kisses your neck, marking it up a little bit.

Drew grunts and groans on top of you as his thrusts get harder. He continues slamming into your g-spot, making you moan louder than you have before. "God, Drew," you almost scream. "I'm close."

He mumbles against the skin on your neck, saying, "Come with me, Y/N. In three, two." Both of you release before he gets to one. You both moan out profanities and you moan Drew's name.

You lay on your back and catch your breath. That was amazing. You had no idea that Drew could do that.

A layer of sweat has formed on both of you as Drew rolls off of you, pulling off the condom and tying it off before throwing it away. You crawl under the blankets and Drew joins you.

"I never want to be alone on Christmas ever again after that," you sigh out, finally catching your breath.

Drew looks over at you and says, "Ya don't have to be. Next year, come over to my place and we can make a mess on my bed instead of you."

You giggle and press a soft kiss to Drew's lips, cuddling up to him and soon falling asleep in his arms.

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chawarin-panich · 3 years

Text

The beginning of my Wenzhou Arranged Marriage Universe.

Rated H for Horny Wen Kexing (teen)

(links to other parts to be added) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

This one is going to be part 4 for my sanity ie in order of posting. One day I'll put it altogether into it's own coherent fic with this as part 1.

~~~~~

Wen Kexing uses the end of his closed fan to lift the red veil off his bride’s face.

His bride, Zhou Zishu is a prince of the fourth rank in the Imperial Court and gifted to Wen Kexing as an agreement to an alliance.

When Kexing had agreed to respond to the summons from the Imperial Palace, he’d thought it a good opportunity to scope the palace grounds and gather intel. Also, it had seemed prudent to interfere with any agreement that was being struck between the Imperial Court and the Five Lakes Alliance.

Yet, when he had laid his eyes on this cold beauty all calculated plans had flown out the window. He trails the end of the fan down Zhou Zishu’s cheek, admiring the smooth, fair skin, anticipation building for the expanse of delicious skin that stretches underneath his lavish robes.

Kexing dreams about counting the moles on Zhou Zishu’s skin, being intimate with the colors of his cock, thoroughly knowing every spot and crease on his body that could make him writhe with pleasure.

Zhou Zishu kneeling on the bed, keeps his eyes averted and almost unnaturally still and Wen Kexing just wants to make him scream. He places the end of his fan at Zishu’s throat and opens it, lightly pressing the sharp edge into him. A little qi and the fan would cleanly cut through Zishu’s skin. Zishu doesn’t move.

How obedient. Kexing longs to see again the flash of hatred in Zishu’s eyes when Kexing had asked for his hand. Longs for the moment that heat would transform into one of lust. Kexing puts his fan away, busying his hands with the pins in Zishu’s hair instead. Once Kexing has plucked out every last pin from Zishu’s hair - gently so as to not pull at Zishu’s scalp, he gets started on Zishu’s robe.

Zishu’s eyes flicker for a moment following Kexing’s movement before settling back into his impassive state. Kexing pulls at the ties holding his outer robes closed, then slides the robe off Zishu’s shoulder. He’s met with little resistance so he takes his time sliding his hand down Zishu’s arm, leaning in to take in the sweet lavender smell of Zishu’s perfume.

It’s when he pulls at Zishu’s belt that Zishu’s hand shoots out, stopping him.

‘What are you doing?’ Zishu asks, eyes narrowed.

‘Undressing my wife.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Kexing is surprised, ‘do you need a play by play of what I plan to do to you tonight? How kinky.’ He says, gently blowing air into his ears, enjoys watching Zishu shiver.

‘Isn’t taking me hostage enough? Do you have to humiliate me too?’

Kexing gently pries his hands free and runs it through Zishu’s hair instead, ‘is sleeping with your husband humiliating?’

Zishu scoffs, and there that hatred Kexing has longed to see this whole time, ‘sleeping with your captor is.’

‘Oh, have I captured you?’ Kexing asks with wide eyed innocence, moving away to sit on the bed more comfortably, ‘so it wasn’t you who said yes when your cousin asked you?’

‘He wasn’t asking.’

‘I was. Might I remind you A-Shu, your cousin invited me to the Imperial Palace.’

‘So I can leave?’

Kexing smiles, ‘you can.’ He chuckles at the disbelief on Zishu’s face, crawls towards him on the bed, ‘but I can’t guarantee what a heartbroken Qingya Master would to to your cousin,’ Kexing frowns twisting a lock of Zishu’s hair, as though perplexed by this barbaric Qingya Master, ‘people say he can be quite cruel.’

Zishu pulls his head away, ‘so I can’t leave?’

‘I won’t honor this alliance if you won’t.’ Kexing says in response but doesn’t move to touch him again. He casually observes the tight set of Zishu’s jaw, imagining how this pale skin would flush under his lips and teeth.

Zishu suddenly pushes him back with a hand on his chest, climbing on top of him. Wen Kexing is surprised by this sudden change in attitude, at the blaze in Zishu’s eyes, ‘then let me serve my husband.’ He says leaning in to whisper into Kexing’s ear. Kexings hand slides around Zishu’s narrow hips to steady him, fingers digging in, determined to leave the first traces of his claim on Zishu.

Suddenly in a swift movement, Kexing is left bereft as Zishu is standing next to him, straightening out his robes, ‘my mother advised me that the way to my husband’s heart is through his stomach.’ Zishu kneels with his hands clasped in front of him, ‘I humbly request that my husband grant me the honor of serving him.’

Kexing, now intrigued, agrees easily, ‘if my A-Shu wants to pamper his husband, who am I to stop him?’ He wants to follow him to the kitchen, but instead agrees to wait in his chambers instead.

Zhou Zishu wouldn’t do something as stupid as to poison his food would he? Kexing would have to think of an apt punishment if that happens.

Before long, there’s a huge commotion outside his door right before it’s flung open by a servant rushing in and falling to his feet, ‘forgive us of our negligence Master but Qingya furen has collapsed.’

#wenzhou fanfic #wenzhou arranged marriage au #nani writes

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mypunkpansexualtwin · 3 years

Text

Here we come with day two of pegoryu week, and it's gonna be the last one I post on time. I'll still be trying, don't get me wrong, I'm just not the kind of person who can write a fic I'm happy with in one day.

Yet.

As always, bulk of the fic is under a cut, link is in the reblogs, and I will daydream of baking you cookies if you share it.

“I did warn you.”

“Not even an arcade, dude?”

“Not unless you wanna get on a train for forty minutes.”

“Ugh. Laaaaame.”

After nearly a month of planning, Ryuji was visiting his boyfriend for Golden Week. One whole month of bargaining with all of their parents, putting aside every last yen they could spare, studying their asses off to earn the trip, and, of course, long phone conversations that were probably about eighty percent “I miss you”s and “I love you”s and “I can’t wait to see you”s. With Akira’s help via video call study sessions, Ryuji even managed to get into the top thirty percent of the class in their latest exams; a new record for him that effectively guaranteed the visit. But they’d been so busy celebrating and planning getting him out to the country that they may have completely forgotten to figure out what they were actually going to do when he got there. So now they were on the Kurusus’ living room couch, Akira cross-legged on one end and Ryuji stretched out across the rest with his head on his boyfriend’s lap, trying to scrape together a date idea.

“I’ll say it again. I warned you. Several times,” Akira repeated while he ran a hand through Ryuji’s hair. “There’s nothing to see here.” Ryuji caught Akira’s free hand, tangled their fingers together, and kissed the back of his hand.

“Yeah there is. You’re here, so I say it’s worth it.” Ryuji grinned as his boyfriend turned pink at the tips of his ears and wrinkled his nose.

“Sap,” Akira grumbled like there wasn’t a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Like they both didn’t know full well how much he liked hearing how happy Ryuji was that they were together, in every sense of the word.

“You love me,” Ryuji said, his grin widening just a little further. Akira’s expression melted into something almost embarrassingly soft as he went back to playing with his boyfriend’s hair. He curled and combed his fingers gently through the short strands, and huffed out a quiet laugh as Ryuji went boneless when he grazed his nails over his scalp.

“Yeah. I really do,” Akira sighed happily and got another kiss pressed to his knuckles. “You’re kind of my hero, you know.” It was something he’d tried to make a habit of telling his boyfriend, even before they were dating. Ryuji still sputtered and objected like it was his first time hearing it.

“You-- I-- that ain’t…” He sat up and shoved a pillow into Akira’s face with a groan. “Now who’s the sap?”

Akira draped himself across Ryuji’s shoulders and planted a kiss on the side of his neck, then smiled against his skin at the shiver that got. “You just have that effect on me, sunshine.” Ryuji grunted in response. “You like it.” Another grunt. Akira blew a puff of air at the back of Ryuji’s ear and laughed when he got swatted away. “Don’t pout. You were right, a date sounds nice. But you gotta help me figure it out.”

His boyfriend sprawled back out on the couch after pouting for a few more seconds, then looked up at him with those big brown eyes he’d been a sucker for since day one.

“Aight, what kind of food you got around here?” Akira could have been exasperated at his boyfriend’s predictability, but a dinner date was more feasible than a movie date, and a lot more pleasant than a gym date. He may have loved Ryuji Sakamoto with all his heart, but he didn’t plan on running again on the regular unless it was for his damn life.

“There’s only like ten places total around here. We’ve already visited three, two of them won’t serve me because the owners don’t like me anymore--”

Ryuji’s head jerked up at that, knocking Akira’s hand free. It was ridiculous how cute the guy was when he was offended. “What?! Why the hell not?”

Akira shrugged and went back to petting Ryuji’s hair in an attempt to soothe him. “Didn’t exactly bother to ask, but probably my record. Cleared of charges or not, my reputation mutated while I was gone and I haven’t really been able to fix it.” Not that he’d tried very hard when he didn’t plan on staying for even a second longer than necessary.

The frown that wrinkled Ryuji’s features was almost comical, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate being laughed at while he was already agitated. Especially when it was on Akira’s behalf. “Ugh, this town sucks, can’t wait to get you out of here. Wait, only probably your record? Why else would they dislike you?”

Akira huffed out another laugh, wry and joyless this time. “My uncle’s a pretty conservative guy, I heard he didn’t react well when he found out I was dating some guy from the city.” Quite literally heard it; he’d been getting ready to visit his cousin and could hear the old man shouting inside the house from the sidewalk. He’d opted to text Yuuta to meet up somewhere well away from their house instead when that happened. And, naturally, the news had mysteriously spread to the rest of town by the end of that week.

Ryuji sat bolt upright and twisted back around to face Akira with a scowl. “Your own effin’ family won’t serve you? What the hell?!” His expression was thunderous, made worse by the doomcloud over his head when he asked. Ryuji almost never got pulled into fights these days and was very proud of that fact--they both were--but Akira was certain that he was ready to deck the old man on sight on his behalf. He’d never encourage it, but the thought still made something in his chest swell a little.

“Just my uncle when I try to sit in. If it’s my aunt or my cousin taking delivery calls, they’ll still take the order. Plus a discount and extra desserts, if Yuuta’s the one who answers.” Akira shrugged, then tugged at Ryuji’s shirt to coax him into laying back down in his lap. He did, albeit begrudgingly, and Akira went back to running his hands soothingly through that remarkably soft shock of bright blond hair. “Anyways, the other five restaurants in town are fast food that you could get back home. So…” He trailed off and watched Ryuji’s scowl soften into an annoyed frown.

“Yeah, pass.” Ryuji closed his eyes, either to think or soak up Akira’s touch as he played with his hair, then cracked one eye open after a moment. “How ‘bout a picnic? You’re a pretty good cook and I bet we could find us a nice spot to just chill.”

That... was a pretty solid idea. Actually, that sounded perfect, and Akira knew exactly the spot for them to set up. He opened his mouth to agree, but was cut off by a low rumble of thunder outside. “...Maybe later this week? The weather should clear up before you have to go,” he said instead. Ryuji pouted up at the ceiling, or more likely up at the sky beyond it for ruining his brilliant plan. Then it was Akira’s turn to pout when Ryuji abruptly sat back up out of reach, but not for long.

The next thing he knew, he was being crowded up against the arm of the couch by one blond bombshell of an ex-track star. Ryuji was suddenly determined to pour himself into his boyfriend’s lap, all mischief and heat as he crawled across the couch towards Akira. He couldn’t think clearly while facing down that wicked grin curving across Ryuji’s face like Haru’s favorite battleaxe cleaving through the air. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d made out. It wouldn’t even be the first time Ryuji had taken the initiative and left Akira a flustered wreck when they did. But since it had been over a month since the last time he’d seen that look face to face, it was having more of an effect than usual, and Akira was left frantically trying to cling to his cool.

“I have an idea, babe.” Ryuji said lowly and Akira’s mouth went dry. Hands bracketed Akira’s hips on the couch as his boyfriend crept closer. “Y’wanna hear it?” Akira nodded and felt heat flare across his skin when he realized Ryuji was keeping that hooded, heated gaze fixed firmly on his lips. “Since your folks ain’t supposed to be back before tomorrow afternoon,” Ryuji’s tone was as light as his body was heavy as he straddled Akira and looped strong arms around his neck, “I was thinkin’ maybe… we could…” Akira was desperately trying to focus on the words being whispered into his ear over his boyfriend kissing his way up his neck and leaving his skin prickling in the wake of every touch.

“Y-yeah?” He couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his stomach. If Ryuji was implying what he thought he was implying... They hadn’t done… that... yet. Even with the house to themselves all day, they hadn’t actually talked about it, in part because Akira hadn’t even thought about it seriously yet. That nervous flutter hadn’t subsided and was starting to feel a little more like an anxious lurch.

Ryuji continued, oblivious to his boyfriend’s nerves with his face tucked against his neck. “We could maybe…” Akira’s hands flexed involuntarily around Ryuji’s hips. He didn’t dislike the idea, just-- His unsteady train of thought was thrown off again when soft lips brushed over his ear. “...watch One Piece together?” After a beat where Akira was left blinking stupidly for several seconds, Ryuji sat back on his legs with a grin that had gone from sultry to shit-eating on a dime. Oh. Okay, he could handle that. “I gotta get you caught up to me, plus I wanna see how much we can get through in one sitting.”

“...you’re truly a romantic for the ages, sunshine,” Akira responded flatly as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. He was teasing back now, because honestly that idea sounded just as good as the picnic, with a lot less effort to set up.

“I know,” he answered confidently, but his smile slipped a little. “Is that a no? I just thought maybe I could buy us dinner from your shitty uncle, and we can cuddle while we take advantage of that big TV with the fancy sound system.” Ryuji gestured hopefully to the flatscreen behind them that was nearly as big as Akira’s bed back at Leblanc.

“Sounds good. Netflix and chill, it is,” Akira declared. When he caught the way Ryuji’s smile and shoulders tightened slightly, he added, “y’know, in the most literal sense.” It wasn’t as though he was happy to see Ryuji nervous, but when his boyfriend relaxed at the reassurance, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that the two of them were on the same page as far as that was concerned.

---

Aki hadn’t been kidding when he said his cousin would hook them up. There was probably double what they’d ordered plus desserts in the bags the guy handed off.

“So, you must be the boyfriend, huh? He talks about you a lot. Y’know, for him.” Yuuta asked as he leaned on the doorway. Ryuji just grinned, because yes, that was him, he was The Boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. Akira’s boyfriend. It’d been months and Ryuji still got all giddy about it like it was brand new. Yuuta interrupted his thoughts when he called out past Ryuji to where Akira was sitting and watching TV, “Man, talk about punching above your weight!” Ryuji blushed and opened his mouth to object before Akira could start bragging on how amazing Ryuji was.

Apparently Akira had other plans, because before he could, two sharp whistles rang out behind Ryuji and he reacted basically on instinct. It was the signal Akira had always used to mean duck or you’ll get hit in the Metaverse, and Ryuji’s knees buckled with almost no input from his brain. He had just enough time to worry if he’d spilled the food--thankfully he hadn’t--when one of the couch throw pillows whiffed past his head and nailed Yuuta in the face.

“ACK! The fuck, dude?! See if I give you free dessert again, jackass,” the guy yelled and hucked the pillow back--and missed, from the sound of Akira’s laughter. Ryuji straightened up with a grin as Yuuta turned to him. “How the hell did you two even do that?”

“We’re just cool like that, I guess.” Ryuji shrugged. No need to explain how many times he’d accidentally taken a Lucky Punch or whatever in the back of the head because he got signals mixed up. “Seriously though, thanks for hookin’ us up, dude.” He held up the food and then added a little more quietly, “and, uh, thanks for havin’ Aki’s back while he’s here. It’s easier to not worry if I know there’s at least someone here talkin’ to him besides that damn cat.” That got a snort of laughter out of the delivery guy.

“No problem? I’d say obviously, ‘cause he’s family, but… Well, I’m sure he told you. Our family kinda sucks sometimes.” He frowned, shook his head, then brightened back up. “Anyways, sweet of you to worry. He really did luck out when he found you, huh?” Yuuta said as he stepped back from the door.

Ryuji shook his head. “You got it backwards, man. I’m the lucky one.” He turned back to where his boyfriend was watching TV, now fully absorbed in the show even if he didn’t really look like it. Ryuji couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped him; he had his boyfriend again and he was going all in on one of Ryuji’s favorite things just because it was one of Ryuji’s favorite things, and it looked like he was actually enjoying it, too. When he turned back, Yuuta was halfway to his scooter, still loaded down with bags of food.

“You really believe that, huh?” He called back. “You keep that attitude, Sakamoto. Even when he’s bein’ a menace, alright? ‘Cause he’s a menace, but he’s my menace, and I’ll serve you up as dumplings if you hurt him!” The scooter rumbled to life and Yuuta added over the noise of the motor, “And you tell him the same thing. I like ya, so he’s gonna be the next lunch special if he’s an asshole to you!”

Ryuji waved in acknowledgment as he sped off, then closed the door and dropped the bag of takeout next to Akira. They paused the episode long enough to sort through the food; a double order of dumplings, pork miso for Akira, spicy vegetable ramen for Ryuji, ginger pork with rice that he was pretty sure they didn’t order at all, and half a goddamn cheesecake for them to split. It was an impressive spread that Akira was already calculating how much was going to be crammed into the fridge at the end of the night.

“Well. Anything we don’t finish tonight can go with us on the picnic?” He suggested as he started on his soup and turned the show back on. They hadn’t made it very far in just yet, and definitely had an uphill battle ahead of them.

Ryuji nodded, mouth already full of noodles. “Shoundsh good to me, dude.” Akira made a face at him like he always did when he talked around a mouth full of food, and Ryuji washed it down with some of the broth. “Family recipe?”

Akira hummed a confirmation around his own food, but paused to actually finish his bite. “Yup. Not as good as the place you took me, but I could just be biased.” Ryuji could hear the smirk in his voice that always cropped up when he was thinking about saying something sappy. Ryuji cut him off before he could, though. Butterflies wouldn’t leave much room in his stomach for ramen.

“I was thinkin’ the same thing. The Ogikubo thing, not the bias thing. Didn’t wanna offend, though.” Ryuji said and took another sizable bite. Even mediocre ramen was still pretty good in his opinion.

Akira chuckled. “Nah. Actually, the ramen there’s always been a little lackluster. I could’ve offered some advice to improve it once I got back, but now? Fuck that guy.”

Ryuji tried not to choke on his food with the laugh that threatened to escape. Scalding, spicy broth shooting out of your nose kinda sucked, especially if you got a noodle along with it. That was an experience he wasn’t keen on repeating. He swallowed down his bite and rasped, “could always pass it on to your cousin. He seems pretty cool when he ain’t threatenin’ to cook us.”

“Ah, you got the shovel talk, then--wait, us?” Akira nodded, but then froze partway and whipped his head around to Ryuji, who nodded in return after clearing his throat.

“Mhm. Said he likes me, ‘n if you break my heart you’re gonna be a lunch special,” Ryuji grinned.

“Asshole. He knows I can’t stand most of what’s in the rotation.” Akira grumbled and pouted into his soup. “What’d he threaten you with?”

“Dumplings.”

Akira’s eyebrows disappeared up into his bangs at that. “Damn, I think he likes you better than me. Uncle’s place is famous for its dumplings,” he explained as he picked the last bit of pork out of his bowl.

“I’m… honored? So is all your family this weird, or is it just you two?” Ryuji asked around another mouthful of noodles. The broth was definitely missing something, but the vegetables were pretty damn good; still pretty crisp but not undercooked. Good flavor on their own, prolly locally grown, too. “Also, how is a place in the middle of nowhere famous for anything?”

“Hey, we still have several other towns nearby, and folks will come here specifically for those dumplings. So you should be honored.” Akira huffed as he popped one of said dumplings in Ryuji’s mouth. Shit, it was pretty killer. Leagues better than his ramen. And of course his boyfriend looked as smug as Morgana when he caught the look on Ryuji’s face. “As for the weirdness? No idea. Around here it’s just me and Yuuta, but I don’t really know much about the ones that don’t live here. Might be because we’re in the middle of nowhere, might be because the ones who live here make a habit of cutting off any undesirables.” Aki shrugged and leaned up against Ryuji. “Maybe I’ll see if I can find any of them when I leave. I dunno.”

Ryuji leaned right back into him and planted a kiss against Aki’s temple, earning himself a pleased little hum from his boyfriend that he felt more than heard. “I’ll be right there with you if you do. I always got your back, babe.” Akira finished his soup and curled up against his side, tucked under one arm. It was nice, even if it meant now Ryuji had to figure out how to eat his ramen one-handed. Eh, he’d figure it out, it’s not like there was much left in the bowl anyway. “So, uh, earlier. You seemed a little tense when I was teasin’ you? And not like usual. I didn’t, like, push too much, did I?”

Akira had suddenly gone very still under his arm. Not the best sign.

“No. But, uh don’t take this the wrong way or anything, I was definitely glad you just wanted to watch One Piece with me. For a second there, I thought you wanted to…” He buried his face against Ryuji’s shoulder. God, his boyfriend was stupidly cute when he got all shy. “...y-y’know. Anyways, I was relieved when you seemed just as nervous about it? Not to be an asshole, but I’m kinda glad it isn’t just me who isn’t ready.”

“Right.” Well, that was that question out of the way, but now he’d paved the way for a new one that’d been rattling around in his head for a while now. God, best case scenario, Akira was probably gonna laugh in his face. Him? Ryuji Sakamoto, of all people, not interested in that? “What if…” He hesitated and tried again. “Well, how long would you be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?” Akira tipped his head up to look Ryuji in the eye. That really didn’t help things, ‘cause even on a good day Ryuji tended to feel small when Akira looked at him like that.

“Like…” Ryuji took a deep breath and steeled himself. “WhatifI’mneverready?” His stomach clenched. There it was, he’d finally said it. Years of wondering if his friends were just exaggerating what they wanted to do with the girls in their class; months of internet research and arguing with himself even when it was the only answer that made sense and trying to backtrack or minimize it with ‘well maybe I’m only kinda like that, maybe I’m that demi thing, maybe I’ll find someone’ to try and soften the blow; a whole year of slowly coming to the realization that that just wasn’t something on the table for him, no matter how attractive Ann was or how close him and Akira got, he just wasn’t wired for wanting that kind of thing, even if he wanted the rest of the sappy, romantic couple shit for as long as he could get it, ideally the rest of his life. All of that had built up to one rushed confession that could make this trip out to the country really effin’ miserable when he still had four more days of crashing at his boyfriend’s place.

“Didn’t... quite catch that?” Akira said after a moment of trying to process what Ryuji had just blurted out. Goddammit. Of course he didn’t.

Ryuji took a deep breath and tried again. “What if… I’m never ready for that? Would that be a dealbreaker?” His heart was hammering as he forced the words out a little more slowly this time. And Akira already looked annoyed. Shit. Shit. He couldn’t look him in the eye and instead stared down at his feet, trying desperately to swallow the queasy feeling in his stomach that threatened to bounce his lunch back up onto the floor in front of him. Ryuji opened his mouth to backpedal, to assure him that if he really wanted to then Ryuji would try for him even if the idea was kind of completely terrifying--

“Of course not!” The sharpness of his tone was what registered first and Ryuji was already braced for a breakup when the words actually hit him. It wasn’t a dealbreaker. It was okay. They were okay. They were... actually okay?

“Wh-- forreal?” Ryuji’s voice cracked embarrassingly and Akira shifted against him, one hand coming up to his chin to make him look at him.

“I already told you, you’re my hero. You…” Akira opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was looking for the right words and couldn’t find them. One hand cupped Ryuji’s jaw and ran a calloused thumb across his cheek, and Ryuji couldn’t help but press into the touch. “You’re everything to me. I could write books on all the things that make you amazing; your compassion, your kindness, your loyalty, your smile, all of it. So what if we never…” Akira blushed a little, but he seemed determined to power through the embarrassment. “So what if we never have sex? What do I care? I love you, Ryuji Sakamoto, I’m not giving up my sunshine, the best thing that ever happened to me, for anything.”

Ryuji swallowed hard around the lump forming in his throat and buried his face against Akira’s neck. Even away from Leblanc, he still smelled like coffee and curry, still smelled like home. Akira had called it home too, and had told him once that he made Boss’ recipes whenever he was homesick for the cafe, or his team, or… Or for Ryuji. Ryuji wanted to believe him so badly. “It’s easy to say that when you still ain’t ready for it, but--”

“I won’t change my mind,” he insisted so vehemently that no part of Ryuji could even think of an argument. Even the part of him that had been certain for months that even admitting he was asexual to himself would ruin everything. “It’s not like I can’t take care of things myself. And that just means more time for everything else.” Akira paused and pressed a kiss to Ryuji’s forehead. “More time to cook your favorite foods,” kiss, “more time to cuddle,” kiss, “more time to watch our favorite shows, all of it.” Akira dropped one last kiss on his temple and went back to running his fingers through Ryuji’s hair. Then he added, almost too quietly to hear, “for the rest of our lives if you’ll let me.” Let him? He’d fuckin’ beg him if he had to.

“Babe, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ryuji said thickly, as if they couldn’t both feel the wet spots forming on Akira’s shirt from where tears were already streaming down his face. Part of him was still scared he wasn’t going to be enough, and it probably always would be for one reason or another. But for now it was easy to relax into his boyfriend’s embrace and trust that he planned on sticking around a little longer.

Akira kept playing with Ryuji's hair the way he knew he loved and wrapped his other arm tightly around him. He pressed a few more kisses to the top of Ryuji’s head and then asked, “do you need me to stop?” Ryuji shook his head and got another kiss. “Alright. Take all the time you need, sunshine.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“We’re gonna need to restart the episode after, though.”

#persona 5 #pegoryu #pegoryu week 2021 #my writing #had the idea for ace ryuji halfway through this prompt and couldn't resist giving favorite characters the tenderness I have yet to find #so if you clown here I will physically fight you

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wolfpawn · 4 years

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 81

Chapter Summary - Tom calls Danielle with an emergency with Mac leading to them talking a little again.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Two days, it had been two days since the argument and Danielle leaving, and if he was honest, Tom felt as miserable about it, if not worse since then. She had not made contact with him while he was sitting in the house that did nothing but remind him of her. Her parents' clock ticking in the living room, her books among his own, even her laundry, which he brought to the laundrette as well as his own, he just wanted to know where he stood. He thought a lot about what Ben had said, he was right, he could only accept what Danielle decided, so though he wanted to know, he waited, badgering her would only end in more arguing and perhaps a wrong decision. Parking his car after meeting with the fitters for his Gucci suits and casual wear for the Milan show, he walked back into the house, bird food in hand. He thought with Danielle gone, the birds would need more food, so he had taken a photo of the food she had been using and went and retrieved some more.

When he went into the house, he noticed a large clump of fluff in front of him, grey in colour. Frowning, he looked at it for a moment, then going into the kitchen and putting the birdfeed on the counter before going back into the hall to investigate it further. To his shock, it was one of a few clumps, which seemed to be clinging to anything in their way, one at the living room door telling him that it as more than likely coming from in there. He opened the door and his eyes widened. There were several more clumps, some of grey, some of tan colour, and in the middle of them, a panting Mac Tíre, who seemed very uncomfortable. It was then, as another grey clump stuck up on the dog's back, did Tom realise he was the source of the fluff invasion. Concerned, he tried to think if Mac had ingested something on their walk earlier in the day, but couldn't think of anything. As Mac sat up and scratched, more fur came out in large clumps before he shook himself, his fur flying different directions.

Part of Tom thought to bring him to the vet and say nothing to Danielle, knowing that if there was an issue, she would only be worrying, but he knew the right thing to do, so taking out his phone, he got up her number and pressed dial.

"Hello." he was startled when another voice answered.

"Is Danielle there?"

"Sure, I'll…wait, are you Tom?"

To be honest, Tom was shocked the other girl guessed him. "Yes."

He could hear her purse her lips, "Is it important?"

Tom stared at the phone screen for a second, the girl on the other side clearly knew about Danielle's argument with him and was giving him attitude regarding him contacting her. "It is actually, yes, it is about her dog, so please could you put her on."

He heard a muffling noise on the other end of the phone as well as a voice in the distance. "He's politer than I thought," he heard the mystery girl state. "He said it is to do with the dog."

"Give me that," He heard the phone being moved around. "Tom?"

"Elle," for a moment, relief filled him at even hearing her say his name. "Hi."

"Hey." there was an awkwardness to her voice. "Siobhan said that you said something about Mac."

"Yes," Tom snapped himself out of his daze. "He is…well, I think he is sick."

"Right, what has happened, tell me what he is doing and what he did over the past twenty-four hours." her tone became serious.

"Honestly, I am racking my brain, but I cannot think of anything out of the ordinary, he's only had his usual food, he has not had a chance to eat anything in the park." Tom sounded half frantic.

"Okay," Danielle stated in her best 'paramedic in an emergency' voice, "What exactly is he doing? Throwing up, having seizures?"

"His hair, it is falling out in huge clumps."

"You mean there are bald patches?"

"No, not that I can see," There was silence on the other end of the phone, "Elle?"

"Tom," her tone was far less concerned. "Is it really really soft fur, almost like a cotton texture?"

Tom picked some up and felt it. "Yes." he was unsure what he expected to be Danielle's reply, but her erupting in laughter was not what he expected. "How is this funny?" That seemed to only set her off more.

"I am so sorry Tom." though she still had a laughing tone to her voice, she seemed somewhat remorseful for something. "God, you've been freaking out, I am so sorry."

"It's not a problem?"

"No, Jesus, I am terrible, I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what?" He asked worriedly.

"German Shepherds shed."

"What?"

"They are nicknamed by owners as German Shedders, they have this weird fluffy undercoat for the winter, every spring it starts to shed in huge fluff balls."

Tom felt sheepish. "Really?"

"Yes, certain breeds do it, Shepherds, Huskies, Malamutes, it's awkward, annoying and hairy, but it is totally normal."

"So I don't need to bring him to the vet?"

"No, I will Google groomers, they will take what is able to be removed from him."

"How long does it take?"

"The shedding? A few weeks."

"He has the place covered." Tom looked around, in one day, the dog had infested the living room with fluffy clumps.

"I am so sorry Tom, if it is too much bother, send him to the kennels if he is wrecking the place."

"No, it's fine, it's not like he does it on purpose, I was just worried."

"You're too good." He could hear Danielle smiling on the other end. "Is he doing okay?"

"Yeah, apart from giving me a carpet I never actually wanted," Danielle laughed at that, "He misses you, obviously, but I got him a toy, a Kong, it's called, he loves it."

"They are great, I can imagine him with it. I miss him too."

"How is Ireland?" Tom asked, noting sadly how she didn't say she missed him. "You told that girl about me."

"Yeah, that's my cousin Siobhan. She asked why I came early and we got talking a bit more."

"She knew my name, does she…?"

"Yes, she knows you are you," Danielle answered.

"When did you…?"

"When I arrived, we got talking in the car, so I told her about you."

"Will she…?"

"No, she won't, she told me something, something that is seriously… God, it is just so stressful…"

"Elle?" Tom asked, hearing the stress in her voice.

"It's fine, just family crap."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just wish I had you…" Tom's heart fluttered for a moment. "I wish I didn't have to deal with it." Though he was saddened with her alteration, he was glad to hear her slight admission, it gave him some hope. "You nearly ready for Milan?"

Shocked that she was asking him such a thing, he smiled. "Yes, yes, we are after getting the final fitting for the suits, they are quite nice, I think you'd like them."

"That's good, are they being done there or…"

"No, the measurements are sent to Milan so I don't have to drag them across."

"Very handy." There was a moment of silence on both ends of the phone. "Thank you for calling Tom."

"I was worried."

"I know, but thank you for thinking to tell me."

"I am glad I did, could you imagine the face of the girl in the vets if I rang or ran in with…" he stopped speaking because Danielle erupted in all-out laughter once more at the other end of the line, causing him to chuckle. "Yeah."

It took a full minute for her to stop. "God, I would have paid to see that."

"Yes, and God forbid if someone realised who I was."

"Yes, that would have been funny to read." Danielle's tone altered slightly. "It's good talking to you again, Tom."

"Likewise." Tom agreed, forcing himself to not say anything for a few moments, knowing what he would say if he did. "I was talking to Ben the day after you left."

"How is Sophie?"

"Ready for the baby to be born."

"I'd bet. I cannot wait for it to get here, I may have gone to the shops again."

"Jesus, you don't even know what they are having."

"I know, I may have bought a bit of both gender stuff, but let's face it, at my age, I know a few people having kids, it'll get used." She dismissed. "My final results may come during the week; if you're home when they do, could you…"

"Of course, I will put them somewhere safe."

"Actually, I was going to ask if you could call me?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I am so anxious about them."

"Why, you worked so hard?"

"Exactly, I am terrified it wasn't enough, I know I won't be able to just wait, I will be restless."

"If I am home, I will ring you," Tom swore.

"Thank you." Danielle's genuine gratitude was obvious. "How are you?"

"Fine, yeah, just busy getting ready."

"Have you attempted the washing machine?" Tom did not respond, causing Danielle to laugh a little. "You're going to have to get used to doing it, you know."

Tom felt his heart sink at that implication. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Thank you for ringing Tom, it was good to hear your voice."

"You sound tired."

"I am, I'm not getting much sleep."

"What…?"

"My aunt, she is making things really difficult here."

"I would have thought, with everything…"

"No, she hasn't focused on anything other than…well, I don't want to annoy or bore you, let's just say it is hard work with her here at the moment, I really…" He heard Danielle inhale deeply. "Your call was actually really well-timed."

"Glad I could be of service," Tom joked slightly.

"I better go here, costing us both a fortune in international calls, thank you for calling Tom, if he has any issue, call me, okay?"

"I promise, if you need to…if you want to check on him, I can send a picture." � "I'd like that, thank you."

"Bye Elle."

"Bye Tom."

Hearing her say his name like that broke Tom's heart, she seemed so upset. He looked around at Mac, "She wants you to go to the groomers hairy boy." Mac's ears went up. "You need it."

Danielle looked at the phone in her hand, cursing herself for being so weak, so many times in the phone call she came too close to telling Tom she was sorry and that she wanted him there. It felt so good to hear his voice, to be able to talk to him.

"You are cracking," Siobhan commented.

Danielle looked at her. "No, just rose-tinted glasses."

"He sounds really nice."

"He is." Danielle looked at the picture on her screen, it didn't show Tom's face, but it was his back and Mac as the pair sat on a hill looking over the Welsh countryside from the time he visited her on set in Wales.

"So, why not forgive his 'booboo'?"

"Because I have to have some self-respect."

"You're so fucking stubborn." Siobhan scoffed. "You'll end up alone if you don't cop on." Danielle just looked at the phone for another moment, but before she could do anymore, Siobhan looked out the window. "Mam's back."

"Fuck." Readying herself for another battle, Danielle thought for another second about Tom before putting her phone away.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 81 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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ijaws · 5 years

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@zecoralaxx I'm sorry for the length of this reply and not replying the post. Either I'm blocked by sombody or Tumblr is fucking with me... But yeah, I just wanted to cover all the bases. I honestly would like to hear your feedback and response. I rarely have anyone I disagree with actually open up and actually talk to me. If you don't want to, that's fine too, but I thank you for actually explaining your view on things.

I'll start on the European POC Community in Europe. Yes, there are definitely POCs in Europe and there have been for a while. However, historically, a majority of these fairy tales were passed from generation to generation by word of mouth in predominantly White Communities. These tales didn't simply become noteworthy when the Brothers Grimm collected them and published them. They already existed and were part of the culture in these communities. These are essentially the fabric of European story telling and the Fairy Tale Genre… Meaning these stories are part of White Culture. European Culture…

Now a few of the famous ones have actually been written and published by individual authors, like in this cause with Andersen's Little Mermaid tale. Regardless, a lot of these famous stories have been written by White Europeans, if not exclusively by White Europeans, where their audience is their own people. I do not think that POCs/Minorities are often thought about or written about in these tales mostly due to the fact that if they were their race in the story would have been pointed out for the audience to understand and recognize. How many Black People in the 1830s do you think would be walking around in Denmark? I honestly doubt any real sizable population of POCs lived in Denmark at the time.

So, again, the casting choice makes little to no sense. As for cultural appropriation I'm going to share two screenshots of an Ask I answered earlier. My comments will speak for themselves on the subject.

As for the question on if I've personally been mistreated, judged, and refused service because of my skin color, the answer is yes to nearly all of the above. I am a Military. I've been to Italy, Austria, and Japan. I lived in Italy and Japan for around 4 to 5 years each. In Italy I was too young to notice any sort of racism. In Japan I was significantly older, 8th grade - 10th grade, and definitely remember racism there. In Japan they if didn't like you, or want someone in their store or area that they didn't like, they would cross their arms in an X sign and that meant to go somewhere else. They won't serve you. That happened twice from what I could remember in Japan. I don't know if it was because of our skin color or Nationality, as Japan dislikes Foreigners, but regardless. I was denied solely on the basis of my appearance, and not talking about clothing.

I moved from Japan back to the US and I lived in a very small town where the racial ratio was extremely one sided. Whites/Others were the minorities in this town. It was a Black Majority town… The ratio for the highschool was 1 White/Other Kid to 3 Black Kids. While I was there I definitely noticed racial tension and my best friend was actually racially attacked in the locker rooms. To this day he hasn't told me what they did to him but he told me they were calling him all sorts of Hispanic Racial Slurs. (My friend was Puerto Rican.) There was definitely racism, as I did hear Black Kids calling White Kids Crackers, Cousin Fuckers, etc. Verbal stuff never really got on my nerves as they're just words, but after graduating Highschool I was searching for a job for upwards of 6 months.

I put an application in to everything in town that was available and when I finally got a job some of my Black Highschool friends told me that they were surprised that I'd gotten a job. I asked them why and they told me that the General Manager of the place I landed a job at did not like White People. In fact, I was the only White Person that worked there for several months… and I knew people were also applying but weren't getting the job. It made me wonder about the other businesses in town. Did they not hire me because I was white? There were also places my Black Friends told me to not go into as White People weren't welcome. Oh, there was also one time that I was told by a couple of black dudes that I wasn't allowed to wear a certain brand. It didn't belong to me. (That in another school though in another state.)

I won't even mention the racism online because I don't think that counts but yeah.

So... The bottom line is, it is a double standard because it doesn't matter what happened in the past. We cannot change it, and I REFUSE to pay for crimes or actions that my ancestors did. I am NOT responsible for any of that and I will never will be. I will condemn any and all sorts of racism, sexism, homophobia, and any sort of exclusionary and oppressive behaviors that White People commit today, but I am not responsible for their actions either. If you are going to hold an entire race accountable for the actions of only a few members or groups of that race, then I will turn the arguement back around on the Black Community, as what is being mostly discussed here. The crime rates, gun violence, gang violence, and so on... Are you personally responsible for the crimes that people who look like you commit? What about Child Soldiers in Africa? Are you responsible? Of course not. Why should I be held accountable then for my race when everyone else isn't? What about Japan and their Great Rapes in WWII? Thousands upon thousands of women and children of China and all other Asian Countries surrounding it were targets of rape, slavery, and torture... They slaughtered MILLIONS of Chinese and used their babies as target practice and bayonet practice... Yet you don't hear about that do you...? Okay... This last bit was a bit of a random rant but... There we have it. I'll stop there.

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cocomaxley · 5 years

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Chi-Town Shenanigans

Part 1

This is a part of a TRR A/U called Cordonians Gone Wild, a collaborative effort by @ao719 @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty and yours truly. Catch up HERE.

Summary: The CGW crew heads to Chicago for a fun long weekend.

Rating: NSFW, mature and very bad decisions.

Tag List: @riseandshinelittleblossom @blackwidow2721 @hopefulmoonobject @bobasheebaby @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @fullbeaumonty @brightpinkpeppercorn @katurrade @krsnlove @alj4890 @zaffrenotes @annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves

2 weeks after the royal wedding...

At the beer garden, Pam, Drake and Rashad met up with Anitah, Alicia, Liam and Leo. Anitah, looked behind Rashad, “No Gen tonight?” Pam shook her head, “No, she’s leaving for Chicago to visit her family...And she’s meeting Christian for dinner tomorrow night!” The three women giggled.

Rashad shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “So what’s the deal with this Christian guy?” Pam turned to Rashad and raised her brow. Anitah smirked, “Why do you want to know, Rashad?” He looked at them and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m just curious. She hardly knows the guy. I thought her friends would be concerned for her safety.”

“Oh I’d say she knows him pretty well,” Pam smirked. Anitah giggled, “Yeah...inside...and out.” Liam shot her a warning look which made her laugh even harder. Rashad didn't respond, instead just took a long sip from his glass. “What’s the matter, Rashad? You jealous?” Pam asked in a teasing tone. Liam held up his hand, “Easy, ladies. There’s no need to attack the guy.”

“I’m not jealous. You’re being ridiculous”, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. Anitah smiled, “Well you seem awful curious about Gen’s sex life all of a sudden.” Rashad choked on his drink and Drake had to smack his back. “Admit it Rashad, you want to hit that!” Leo said laughing while Liam glared at him.

He looked at them with a frustrated expression on his face, “Look I was just asking a question. I don’t know why you’re all ganging up on me. She’s a nice girl. I’d hate for her to get hurt by some guy she just met.” Pam narrowed her eyes at him, “Well I’m certain of one thing, Rashad. He certainly wasn’t saying it was a mistake the next morning…or night.” Rashad just stared at her. He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to respond.

Drake took Pam’s hand, “Baby, I think you’re hitting below the belt.” Rashad downed his drink, “What do you want from me? I tried to apologize to her, but it was too late. See, this is why I don’t date. Women are too...frustrating. And then you have to deal with her girlfriends...” He signaled the waitress for a refill.

“I think we all just want to know why you’re so worked up about this, Rashad. Maybe if you admit there are feelings there…” Pam said with a sly smile. Anitah added, “I think you like her and you’re too afraid to admit it.” He shook his head as he accepted the drink from the waitress and downed it, immediately asking for another. Anitah continued as he remained silent, “Because God forbid something in your life not be a business deal.”

Rashad stood up to leave but Liam stopped him, “Rashad, don’t leave. They’ll back off. Right, ladies?” He stared directly at Anitah who was trying to stifle a giggle, but nodded her head. Rashad sat back down. Pam said, “All I’m saying, Rashad, is that if you care as much as you seem to, give it a chance.” Anitah said, “Yeah, you might find she feels something too…”

He grumbled, “Well it doesn’t matter now. She’s meeting him anyway. Clearly she doesn’t feel anything either.” Pam shook her head at him clearly frustrated, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“Alright, that’s enough. We didn’t come here to bust his balls,” Drake said as Pam glared at him. He pulled her into a deep kiss trying to make her forget why she was upset with his friend.

Later that evening after many of rounds of drinks, Alicia and Leo already disappeared, and Rashad sulked by himself at the bar. Drake and Liam narrowed their eyes at Pam and Anitah knowing they were the reason their friend was drinking his sorrows away. In an authoritative voice, Liam said, “You two had no right to say those things to him. You need to apologize.”

Pam and Anitah rolled their eyes at Liam. Drake said, “You guys were kinda harsh.” The girls looked at each other and smirked, Anitah asking, “What are you two gonna do for us if we do apologize?” Liam leaned in and whispered into Anitah’s ear and kissed her neck, making her giggle like a little girl.

Drake pulled Pam into him and whispered in her ear. Pam pulled him by the collar and kissed him hard. Drake wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him before breaking the kiss and saying, “After you square things up with Rashad, baby.”

Pam and Anitah walked up to Rashad at the bar and sat on either side of him. Anitah smiled and said, “Hey Rashad…” He looked up at her with a half hearted smile, “Hi,” then took a big sip of his drink. Pam put her hand on his shoulder, “Listen Rashad...we were assholes earlier.” Anitah nodded, “We’re really sorry about what we said about Genevieve. We were just busting your balls.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

Pam added, “It just seems like you and Genevieve really have a connection. It's hard seeing both of you miss out on it.” He brought his glass back up to his lips and took another sip of his whiskey. Pam wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him, “But it's up to you guys. We’ll back off. We love you Rashad!” Anitah threw her arms around him too, “You're our little cinnamon roll!” Pam giggled, “Yes! Our sugary sweet cinnamon roll.” He chuckled, “Yeah, you guys are ok I guess.” Pam narrowed her eyes at him, “Say it, Rashad.” Anitah nodded her head, “You. Love. Us.”

“Yes! Love! You loooovvvee us!” Pam squealed. “Alright, alright, I love you girls,” he laughed. Pam and Anitah laughed and gave each other a high five, “YES!”

Liam and Drake sat at the table laughing and wiping tears from their eyes watching the exchange. Rashad looked so uncomfortable with both ladies hugging him and professing, very loudly, how much they loved him. “Making them apologize was such a good idea!” Drake snorted.

Three months later…

Genevieve woke up with a warm body spooning her. She turned and smiled at his handsome face. She softly kissed his cheek and got out of bed when she got pulled back down next to him. “Rashad, we have to get ready. Our flight leaves soon,” she giggled. He tightened his arms around her and buried his face into her neck, “It’s my jet. They can't leave without us. Stay in bed with me.” After cuddling for a little while longer, they both got ready and left for the airport. The couple was going to Chicago for a long weekend. Genevieve was standing up in a wedding, and she also had to sign closing documents to sell hers and Pam’s condo.

Genevieve’s cousin was getting married, and she was excited to introduce Rashad to her family. They were so in love and she'd never been happier. He was so sweet, loving and attentive. He reprioritized his work schedule so they could spend time together. He no longer put work first, rather he made her his priority. Whenever possible, she would travel with him during business trips. She had never felt this way about any man, and he made sure that she knew that he felt the same way.

After they landed and checked into their hotel, Rashad stayed in the room to work while Genevieve left to sign the paperwork to sell the condo. They informed her that they also needed Pam to physically sign the documents. Shit, she thought to herself. She sent Pam a text. The condo was the last thing tying her down to her hometown, and the buyer was eager to get the keys. She also had the rehearsal dinner the next day, so she really needed to get these documents signed.

Pam looked at her phone and saw Genevieve’s text. She sighed, "Anitah, I need to head to Chi-Town for the closing.” Anitah perked up and grinned looking over to Pam. “Chicago, huh? I’ve heard good things about Chicago....” Pam groans, “Well I guess I need to start looking for flights." Anitah smiled slyly, “Um, well I have this crazy idea...maybe if you invite along a certain friend, she may be able to...I don't know...commandeer a jet...?”

Pam’s face lit up, "That sounds way better than taking a regular plane. Let me call Drake..." Anitah, grabbed her arm before she could pull out her phone, “Uhhh...Pam...don’t tell drake we’re taking the jet...because I’m not telling Liam I’m taking the jet...”

Pam’s eyes went wide, “But...I have to. Honesty is the foundation of any good relationship. I can't lie to him!” Anitah rolled her eyes, “You can’t tell him otherwise he will tell Liam before we leave...you can tell him once we get to Chicago. That way, if Liam finds out I took the jet it will make him angry.”

Pam said, “Ok, ok. Should we invite Alicia and Maxwell too? Maybe we can see Thomas and Julian while we're there!” Anitah nodded her head in agreement, “Absolutely! Chi-Town here we come!”

Pam sent Alicia a text, and then called Maxwell to tell him to pack his back and meet them at the airport. Afterwards, she snuck into an empty room and called Drake, “Hey, baby. I have to go to Chicago for the weekend. Gen texted and said the mortgage company needs my signature on the documents.” On the other end of the line, Drake said, “Ok, be careful Pam. Just let me know once you get there so I know you're safe. I love you.” A smile formed on her lips, “I love you too. See you Sunday.”

Anitah called Brad into her office, “Brad,” she smiled at him, “I need you to prepare the jet, please.” Brad looked at her confused, "Your majesty, I wasn't aware that you had travel plans" Anitah said in an urgent tone, “Well, I do. And there is no time to waste, I need it done right away.” Brad nodded his head, "Of course. I'll let Bastien know immediately."

Shocked by his statement, Anitah yelled, “No! No...no need to let Bastien know. I think you can handle this one yourself.” Brad looked at her concerned, "Of..of course. Please don't tell King Liam. I think he's going to fire me. I'll call the airfield right away." Anitah winked at him, “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

The ladies and Maxwell landed at the airport and checked into the same hotel as Genevieve and Rashad. They knocked on the couple’s hotel room door and Genevieve smiled wide, “Hey! I didn't know you guys were all coming. Come in. Where are Liam, Drake and Leo?”

Anitah smiled mischievously, “Uh, Liam he is, um,...doing King things....” Genevieve gave her a knowing look and Anitah busted out laughing. The ladies shared the silent understanding that she hijacked the royal jet.

The group entered the living area of the hotel suite and Rashad greeted them. His cell phone rang and he excused himself when he answered it, “Hello? Yes, sure I have a few minutes. It's funny that you're calling me, I was just talking to Anitah.” He went silent as he listened to the other person talking. He had a confused look on his face then he responded, “No, not on the phone. She just walked into my hotel room…” Genevieve’s eyes widened when she heard what he said and yelled, “HANG UP! Hang up the phone!” It was too late as Anitah’s cell phone immediately started ringing, and Rashad looked at his phone which was disconnected from the call.

Anitah gulped and answered her phone, “He-Hello?” Liam tried to hide the anger in his voice, "My love, what is this I hear that you're Chicago?" She replied in a sweet voice, “Well...uh...Pam had to come and so I decided to tag along to keep her company...” She heard him sigh, "Why didn't you tell me? I could have had the jet prepared for you."

Anitah said, “Oh I had it prepared myself.” She heard his breathing get heavy knowing he was getting angry when he responded, "What do you mean, prepared yourself?" Anitah replied, “I had it prepared for my use to fly to Chi-Town...”

"Prepared? Fly? Chi-Town?" Liam could no longer form coherent words. Anitah tried to soothe him, “Liam it’s ok. Deep breaths. Brad's here with me, it’s not like I came without my security detail.” Liam yelled, "Brad? Your body guard that is still in training?” Anitah could visualize the vein in his head throbbing from anger. All she could say was, “Uh...yes...” Liam could no longer contain his anger, “I'm coming to get you.” Anitah giggled, “Have fun flying commercial.” She hung up the phone and turned to the group, “Oh he's pissed!” She looked directly at Brad, “You’re in so much trouble!” She laughed hysterically when his face turned pale knowing the Queen had duped him.

Liam dropped his phone on his desk and yelled for Bastien, “Please get Drake and Leo and tell them we're flying to Chicago.” Bastien raised his brow confused, “Chicago, your majesty?” Liam nodded his head, “Yes, the Queen stole the jet and flew there. Based on the amount of giggling I heard in the background, I assume Alicia and Maxwell accompanied her and Pam.” Bastien turned to leave when Liam called him again, “Also, we will need to take a regular flight.” Bastien tried to stifle the laugh threatening to escape.

A short while later, Bastien knocked on Liam's study and entered the room. Liam, Leo and Drake were already in the study waiting with their bags. Bastien said, “Your majesty, I have the plane tickets, but…” Bastien broke eye contact with him. Liam looked at him, “What's the problem?” Bastien cleared his throat, “I was only able to secure coach seats, sir. First class was sold out for the flight.” Leo groaned, he’d flown coach before and did not enjoy it. Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled profanities under his breath. Meanwhile, Drake looked at Liam and laughed, "Well, you're in for a treat, buddy.”

The four men boarded the plane and made their way to their seats. Leo, Liam and Bastien were seated together in a row of three seats. Liam and Leo fought over the window seat, pushing and shoving each other out of the way. Liam said through gritted teeth, “I am the King, Leo, I get the window.” Leo rolled his eyes, “Whatever your majesty. Bas, you're riding bitch. I get the aisle.” Liam tried to get settled into his seat and hit his head under the overhead compartment. He grabbed his head grumbling, “Why are these seats so small and ceilings so short?” After he sat down, the man in front of him reclined his seat all the way back leaving him with very little room. Leo snorted, “Is the King happy with his window seat?”

Drake watched the the two brothers fight and laughed loudly while opening his package of peanuts. Before the flight took off, a flight attendant approached Drake and said, “Sir, we have one open seat in first class, if you'd like to take it.” Liam looked at Drake hopeful that he would give him the seat. Drake smirked and grabbed his bag from the overhead, “Don't mind if I do.”

Once the flight reached altitude, Liam reclined his seat and tried to relax when the kid sitting behind him started kicking his seat. Liam closed his eyes and sighed loudly while Leo laughed. After a few more minutes of his seat getting kicked, Liam said through gritted teeth, “Seriously, Leo...switch me.” Leo wiped the tears from his eyes, "Oh no, you wanted that seat. You've got that seat the whole flight, Your Majesty." Liam, unable to hide his irritation, loudly whispered, “Don’t Your Majesty me, Leo! Seriously just switch the damn seat!” Leo crossed his arms and shook his head, "No, I'm sitting here, in the aisle. Kick free. Look out the window, look, there's a bird." Liam balled his fists, “I’m gonna find a bird and shove it right up you ass.” This made Leo snort loudly, "Really? Are you going to use the king card to get it?"

“I don’t need the king card to do this!” Liam reached across Bastien and punched Leo hard in the arm. Leo reached over Bastien and punched him back. "Stop crying, Liam. You're being a little bitch. Here, let me get you some peanuts,” Leo stopped a passing flight attendant, “Excuse me, miss? Yes, can my little brother get some peanuts? He gets grumpy if he doesn't have his nap." Bastien let out a loud sigh, “Your majesty, permission to speak freely?” Liam nodded his head. “You're both acting like children! Please just stop, the both of you!” Leo laughed hysterically, and Liam stood up to go to the bathroom. He hit his head on the overhead compartment again making Leo laugh even harder. “Asshole!” Liam grumbled as he grabbed Leo's pack of peanuts out of his hand and walked to the front of the plane to use the bathroom.

Liam walked towards the first class section and through the curtain. As he reached for the handle on the bathroom door, the flight attendant stopped him, “Excuse me, sir, but these bathrooms are for first class patrons only. You'll have to use the bathrooms at the back of the plane.” Liam gave her an affronted look, “Excuse me, but I am the King of Cordonia. I will use this bathroom.” Drake turned around in his seat, not wanting to miss the exchange. Liam rarely used the king card with people he didn't know. The flight attendant clicked her tongue, “This is an American Airlines flight, I don't care if you're Santa Claus. If you have a coach ticket, you must use the coach restrooms.” She sternly pointed her finger towards the curtain. Defeated, Liam sighed and made his way to the back of the plane. Laughing, Drake turned around, reclined his seat and sipped his whiskey.

#cordonians gone wild #cordoniansgonewild #cgw #drake x pam #liam x anitah #leo x alicia #rashad x genevieve #the royal romance #trr au #choices trr

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 years

Text

Nuestra Familia (RCD MC: Astrid)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries

Rating: G

Pairing: Astrid-centric, minor Seth x Astrid

Summary: Astrid realises she doesn't know her family as well she had thought. Minor crossover with The Freshman/The Sophomore/The Junior.

Author's Note: This is a bit late for MC Appreciation Week, but I figured I'd put it out there anyway. This is my origin story for Astrid Ortega, my second RCD MC, who is involved with Seth. There's a cameo of one character from TF/TS/TJ in the end and I have a feeling you folks have already figured out who it is 😅 I used (of course) the "crossover" prompt from this list for my fic. I'm tagging @choices-mc-rules, in case they would still like to reblog this.

Translations:

Nuestra familia - "our family" in Spanish.

Chanclas - slippers/flip-flops

Tres leches cake - Typically a very moist chiffon cake soaked in a mixture of evaporated milk, condensed milk and heavy cream. Tres leches literally means "three milks".

Abuela - one of the terms used for ‘grandmother’ in Spanish.

Ita - Short for Abuelita, also used for grandmothers. Astrid calls her grandmother the former, her mom Teresa calls her grandmother the latter.

Manda Huevos - Can mean a lot of things according to context, but generally used to express a range of emotions, such as annoyance, disappointment, contempt or disbelief. In this context, Teresa means “it's not fair”.

If I've gotten anything wrong in terms of references, please do tell me, and I'll definitely fix it in the fic.

“One more foot inside my kitchen and it'll be my chanclas for you later.”

Teresa Ortega said these words to her daughter Astrid, in the same tone one would use to offer a guest some tea.

It wasn't that her mom didn't allow her kids to help with the cooking. She did. Salome was too young to do much but set the table yet but Astrid (and her big sister Letitia, whenever she was home) often pitched in to help with the meal.

But heaven help anyone who tried to help Mom with her tres leches cake.

This recipe was from Mom's Ita’s faded little diary, passed down to her by her mother on the condition that she would learn its recipes off by heart. It was her pride and joy, Mom would often say. Her baby before her actual babies came along.

And today it was even more essential Mom get this cake right. Astrid's abuela was visiting, and ever since Astrid's mother insisted on naming her Astrid (“She’s already named my first and last - at least leave the middle one to me!”) she could do nothing right.

Perhaps it would've been easier to handle if Dad wasn't Abuela's only son, if Mom had someone she could jointly ignore Abuela with, if they had cousins they could play with while the adults sorted out their issues. Or perhaps not. Still, it would have been nice to know.

“Easy, mom, I'm not going to touch your precious cake,” Astrid said, grinning, “Lemme demolish it at lunch instead.”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, though. She could get the scent of baked cake wafting in all the way from her bedroom, and her mother was already starting to combine Carnation milk, condensed milk and 1/4th of a cup of heavy cream into a thin, but somewhat creamy, mixture.

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Why are you here, then?”

Astrid felt the muscles around her neck tense up, but schooled her face to a look of injured innocence. “What, can't I just want to talk to my mom once in a while?”

She craned her neck a little further behind Astrid, a tiny frown beginning to form between her brows. “What's that you're holding behind your back?”

Ding! The cake was ready now, just in time for soaking. Astrid let out a sigh of relief. She wanted Mom to see this wedding card, yes - it was why she came to the kitchen in the first place - but now was probably not the time for questions. Questions about family or about secrets. Not when she knew how important it was for her mother to get her weekend cakes right.

“Family” was always a big deal around the Ortega table. Dad was his mother's only child, and Mom’s parents passed on long before any of them were ever born. Her father was as annoyed by Abuela's antics as her mother was, but it never stopped him from having her visit every Sunday because “she's the only family we have left”.

It was as if he needed her to keep himself rooted, as if without her he would be floating aimlessly, no aim or identity, taking his wife and children down that path with him. Abuela knew this. By God, did she know this.

Or so I thought, Astrid said to herself, gripping the wedding card tightly and creating new creases where the word Ortega was written.

Mom was gritting her teeth now, carefully pouring the three-milk mixture over the cake and muttering to herself. “One more word about dry cake this time and I'll give her soggy toast, I swear I will.”

Astrid would have stood up last week and said something to Abuela, if only Mom would let her. It was probably a good thing Leticia wasn't around, she'd fire shots at Abuela for less. She was protective over all of them and often in the heat of the moment she'd forget she’d be landing them all in further trouble.

She was still muttering. “Wants chiffon cake. Screams bloody murder if I use box mix. What, Teresa, looking for shortcuts again?” Mom's voice was raised in an accurately nasal imitation of Abuela's voice. It was almost like she'd forgotten Astrid was there. “Then I make it from scratch like she wants. Then it's Oh Teresa this is so dry oh Teresa it tastes like sawdust. Why else do you think I use box mix, eh? You want it from scratch and you want moist. ¡Manda Huevos!”

The diatribe kept Mom occupied while she finished pouring, so Astrid kept silent. Mom needed this. This wasn't something she can say in front of Letitia (resulting in another Sunday screaming match) or Dad (what would he do?) or Salome (no way would the kid ever take Salome, language! seriously again). Mom needed someone to have her back, no matter how silently or secretly. And that someone had better be her.

“If only Linda had stayed…”

Astrid froze. “What did you say?”

Mom looked up, blinked twice, then stiffened. “Nothing. Nothing.”

Silently, Astrid handed over the card she'd been holding, all this time. She found it while searching for her dad's treasured García Lorca poetry collection, hidden between a page that exalted love and a page that mourned loss.

Mom took it from her, her eyes widening as she read the words.

LINDA ORTEGA

and

DOMINIC SANDOVAL

request the honour of your company at their wedding.

“Dad always told us he was all Abuela has, right,” Astrid said, “The only Ortega for miles around."

Mom answered by busying herself with more activity than ever. Keeping the soaked cake in the fridge. Pouring the remaining milk mixture into two glasses. Washing her hands. Washing the dishes.

“I'll do that for you,” Astrid took a plate from Mom's hands, “Just talk to me.” She grabbed a sponge and dish washing soap, cleaning vigorously. “All this time, Dad's been telling us Abuela's the only family he has, Mom. Like, he has no one else. Like, we have no sisters or brothers besides the three of us. Was he lying?”

“You're wrong,” Mom said, her voice suddenly sounding sharper, harder, “Abuela's the only family he has left. Your father didn't lie.”

“Just omitted the truth, yeah,” Astrid wished she knew how she felt about this. Right now there was so much she was feeling that she didn't exactly know where to begin. “There's no “together with our parents” above their names either. Not like yours’.”

Mom sighed, picked the card up, then held up two glasses of milk-mixture in front of her. “Take one and give the other to your sister. I have a lot of work to do.”

On any other day, Astrid would have grabbed that glass and relished its creaminess, wiping the milk-moustache off her mouth with a flourish. But today no amount of sweetness was going to take away that weird metallic taste in the roof of her mouth.

“I'm not done asking about this,” Astrid said, scowling, “to you or to Dad. If I have aunts and cousins out there, that's something I wanna know.”

Astrid did try in the weeks to come. But she never saw the wedding card again, and neither Mom or Dad ever responded when she raised the topic again. Still. It felt nice to dream.

Every time Abuela made a snide remark at lunch, she imagined her cousins there. A snarky younger girl who’d make smartass comments. A strong boy her age who’d shut Abuela up with just a glare. A nice aunt who’d take Mom's mind off all this nonsense. It didn't help much, but it felt nice.

It felt nice knowing she had company out there. Somewhere.

6 years later.

“Donuts, Iowa?” Seth’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect. He was more a bag-of-chips kinda guy most days, but he also liked having massive sugar rushes before a comedy gig.

“As long as the insides of six of those are practically spilling over with fruit jam, I'm game,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It felt exhilarating, freeing. She hadn't felt this normal in a while - normal enough to kiss her boyfriend without worrying about paparazzo jumping out from a bush. There was a guy in a leather jacket she didn't recognize - three blocks across - looking at her like he wanted to talk, but not in a way that made her feel unsafe.

That was the nice thing about Northbridge. People looked, sure, but they were less likely to make you feel like an exhibit from a zoo.

“Wait here, yeah?” Seth said, planting a kiss on the lips instead, “I'll be back before you can finish spelling “OHIO” with your arms.”

Astrid laughed. Seth said the most Ohio things sometimes. Neither of them had had this much fun since she was offered a lead role in Tender Nothings, which was why Seth always jumped at a chance to take up gigs in Northbridge, and why he always offered to take Astrid along when she was free.

The guy from before stepped forward a few minutes after Seth entered the donut shop. The summer heat must have been too much for him - his leather jacket was now slung over his shoulders. “Um, hello. Astrid Ortega?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets, mouth pursed into a thin line, a tiny curl slipping carelessly from his hair and resting on his forehead. She caught a peek at the tail end of a bird tattoo (Owl? The tail looked pointy) on his left arm.

“Yeah,” Astrid said, wondering whether it was her or Seth he wanted to talk to, “but I don't know what your name is.”

“ Zigmund. Zig for short,” he replied, looking behind him from time to time, “My sister Lucy’s a big fan. Asked me to help her get an autograph from you.”

“Is she here?”

“Yeah. But she doesn't want to come out. She's shy.”

Ah. So that was the cherry-red blur barely hidden by that building. She learned long ago that no matter how friendly you appeared, your image would precede you and intimidate people anyway. Autographs were great, but somehow she didn't want to stop at just that.

“Would she come out now if I asked?” she gave him her sunniest smile, “Tell her I won't bite.”

Zig hesitated, then nodded. Astrid watched him walk to the other building, move his hands expressively as he tried to convince his sister to join him (from that angle he almost looks like Letitia, Astrid thought), and return with a curly-haired, starry-eyed teenage girl.

“H-hey,” she said, then blushed, clearly embarrassed by her nervousness. Silently, she hands over her autograph book. She keeps her eyes studiously away from Astrid's face. “I, um, I like mystery films, and I really, really liked Tender Nothings.”

A girl after my own heart. “Maybe you'll like Sunset Boulevard, then,” she said, smiling.

Astrid could have just signed and left it at that, but there was something about these two. Something about the way they stood together, or exchanged glances, or something, that reminded her of home. Which was silly. But it didn’t change the fact that she wanted to leave a good impression on them.

“What would you like to be when you grow up, Lucy?”

Lucy didn't miss a beat. “Ballet dancer. Like my brother.”

Astrid smiled, particularly at the look the girl gave Zig. Yes, she could see on second glance that even though some people would say he didn't have the body of a dancer, he held himself with a certain grace, a certain lightness that belied a stronger core. Hit by a sudden rush of inspiration, she quickly scribbled a little note to go with her signature, and asked Lucy to read it.

To Lucy and Zig, future (hopefully!) best ballet dancing duo in America. Be sure to save me a seat when you folks get famous. Love Always, Astrid.

“Wowwww,” Lucy whispered. Zig suppressed his smile, trying not to let how he felt show, and failed. A corner of his mouth lifted upwards, revealing an almost-invisible dimple.

The two left before Seth brought his box of donuts,but they thanked her at least thrice as they walked away.

“Wait till I tell Mom about this,” Astrid overheard Lucy tell her brother as they left, “I told you she'd be really, really nice.”

“You did,” there was a note of indulgence in Zig's voice.

"Ortegas all around the world. Wherever we're from, we're nice.”

Had Seth come out a moment later, Astrid would have probably walked up to them and asked. Perhaps asked them where they were from and their parents’ names.

But Seth was here, with donuts, and there was never a moment she could take her eyes off either.

“Do you know those two?” Seth asked her, passing her a tres leches cake donut that was claimed to be one of their best, “They looked familiar.”

“”No,” Astrid replied, closing her eyes in bliss. Mmmm. The treat was taking her back to Des Moines, back to home, back to her mother's little kitchen. “But I wouldn't mind meeting them again.”

#fanfic #red carpet diaries #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #rcd mc #astrid ortega #seth levine #zig ortega #lucy ortega #seth x astrid #playchoices crossover #seth x mc #mc appreciation week

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

This had to be explained to me this morning...

Okay why I don't fucking know and they won't bother because it's fucking dumb and lazy I'm quite sure.

But.

Apparently I won't be home for Christmas, Annabelle and I will be stuck out at the Uncle, Clone, Socrates Christmas Horror with probably my cousin Chris.. Maybe my brother...

And so I said "what are people supposed to think? They're supposed to be happy and experiencing new things, this is old shit and for me?! That's gonna make them feel even worse knowing I can't be with my Kidd over some stupid invalid shit that I don't even understand except it's just plain laziness, idiotic and definitely developed by a male!! A male that's lazy about his family!!"

William: let me defend myself

Me: shut up

So I was told by someone, someone i stole a gun from shortly before my faux 16th birthday in an attempt to help save the planet (Not William but an undercover CIA agent), that in his heart he was told that this Christmas when people look around think 'Sabrina is missing out on this kind of happiness with her family' that they should remember and realize that the sadness they feel for me was felt for millions of human trafficked victims world wide, every Christmas and every holiday.

Some of us didn't know about it. Or had forgotten. So let this be the last Christmas any one is sad. It will always be a serious issue in our hearts and minds and souls. But not forever should we carry the burden of sadness and fear.

This year is the eradication of the solitude of the sadness of each Holiday being sad. Now we all know why gramma would sit in the chair alone hugging herself quietly at,the end of the day or sit the camcorder in the corner and refuse to participate like a granddaughter thought she should and try to get her to interact more because she didn't seem happy enough.

This Christmas: the sadness shall be replaced with cheer. The fear with triumph and joy.

And yes you will remember I'll not be happy and my kids without their parents.

But they have my real mom and dad. My real twin brother. Their not real Uncle that loves them as much as a dad. And many more people, nearly 100 in their neat home giving them best wishes and having Christmas dinner.

No way in Hell nor God's green Earth would i allow them to miss Christmas.

So today they will open presents from Uncle Garth and tomorrow Trisha's stockings, the next day from the Dildo King who has been making new things with his family (faux Uncle Garth and real Uncle Matt) that i asked Uncle to purchase 3 years ago in preparation of taking care of my children. And on down. And hopefully I'll be able to get there while Christmas is still happening.

I'm there in spirit as i always have been and that is my Christmas Lesson to know I cared about Children i didn't know i had. And for Declan and Annabelle, too. To know they also assumed one day they would feel Christmas joy as they once had when they were little and alone, listening to little voices explain how things were different where they lived yet no matter how close they felt they knew things were too far to really feel the Christmas joy as they should. This year they will know why.

As Declan explains. Its beautiful because they never expressed unhappiness or even jealousy or loneliness, just an eagerness to understand what they were missing out on because their belief was one day they would experience it out of slavery and here with us.

And it's true. Since my divorce... The ability to do Christmas All big and strong has dwindled... Because i have too much pain, mostly physical and can't gather the strength to make it perfect in every way. And as getting older goes Declan couldn't also hide his worries from his soulmate. Although we worked together to make it best for Annabelle. For us it was more about "Thank God it's Done and everything went perfect"

So this year... Apparently William's laziness wants us to feel that before Christmas. -.- or at Christmas. -.- like i really care. We still have so much work to do! We have mental health and we have bunkers to redo so they're not bunkers and factories to move and figure out what to do with. And employ people at a rate that doesn't cause insane inflation. Like work is never over. So Idk whst the fuck hes thinking. Im All about letting those miserable souls we can't get the missle at think they can enjoy Christmas. Pay a lot of someone's an insane amount of money to miss Christmas and sit outside their house and shadow shot them when they attempt to leave. Drop down the fucking chimney at night... Now that it's raining because the world cries for us...maybe that's not the best idea but still you get the picture. See, my husband is lazy and has no defenses. But i still love him anyways although his life woild be easier if he just listened and didn't pretend he didn't ever hear whole discussions we had where he was all "oh that's so smart!!" And make new plans when he sure as Hell knew i wasn't listening and my face looked like this:

And he tells me i should take a picture of myself because hes too afraid to tell me i look mad and wants to soften things up.

Uh Yeah when you abandon me in Hell when i fully expressed that i wanted him to come back full body in our old truck and drive me to Macy's in Oklahoma So we can get the kids Christmas presents in the form of bedding and some holiday clothing like nice dresses and suits. That they can wear while playing in mud puddles because that's what life is about as stains are like scars but stains remember less pain usually, and more laughter than tears and fears. Then he could leave me at Uncle Garths while he goes back to work. So we could spend the whole drive together and shopping time and then Declan could caravan with us.

But no. Hes all about abandonment because its easy. -.-

And now he's like way way beyond scared. Well that's what a mad face is about. Its the door to truth. And truth isn't always happy or pretty.

Its scary. And it's real. And it doesn't go away. Its Not just a point of view, it is total truth. Its at least 2 points of view and a validation.

When i told him what i wanted he promised he could do it and wss very happy.

So then later he's rambling about me stsying here while im busy making gingerbread houses and I'm quite sure he inhaled too much Stevia powder we used for snow.

William: hey now I don't wanna be in control anymore i want my wife to tell me what to do!

Uncle Donald: are you trying to hide behind Uncle Donald?

William: I'm heading that way!

Uncle Donald: well you get back to body life for yourself and we will make sure you get there safe. If not we will Chinook her express. How does that sound?

William: well uhhh how does that sound to you? Im asking Uncle Donald.

Uncle Donald: well you have a period of 2 hours to decide then we are taking her and the kids and Uncle Dan, as she calls him, with respect because hes always been kind to her.

Me: sounds good to me

William: what about those other guys that have been fighting for her?

Me: Christmas comes the same time every fucking year. Like you they ain't spent it with me so they obviously don't care.

William: well uh they care, now.

Me: because they have an opportunity to and they're all taking too long. What? We put the calender on pause because they didn't make their own opportunities? No they hurry the fuck up. Maybe they will make it but not fair to my children to wait on them to finish and any husband od kine will understand that.

William: not if they always lived in a bunker

Me: well that is why we already placed human trafficking victims with their families as best and as fast as we can So that they can learn to understand. Because it's not something that can be taught, its something that's felt only when together in happiness and love in a group. Its like having a whole meal and not just a bag of chips.

William: that's all you gotta say.

Uncle Donald: Sabrina...

Me: we already have a standing plan from August. It will be easy.

Uncle Donald: that's all

Me: thank you. And Merry Christmas.

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