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visiosatanae · 5 months

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Lead Us Not into Temptation

After a grueling day of Ministry work, all you wanted was a shower. But Cardinal Copia is not usually one to resist temptation, especially not with a creature as exquisite as yourself.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 3.7k

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader (Sister of Sin)

Ao3 Link Uncropped Art (NSFW)

All you had wanted was a shower.

The hottest part of the year had been quickly encroaching on the Ministry, and today's chores had felt more grueling than ever because of it. It had started with the unsavory task of cleaning up after the previous night's orgy. While you weren't someone who would turn your nose up at such an event, cleaning the aftermath was never something any of the Siblings wanted to be stuck with. That alone would have warranted at least a bath.

But after a quick meal it was time for kitchen duty. Today it was sweeping the floors - which became aggravating as the last strip of dirt refused to be swept into your dustpan - and cleaning the dishes. Even with wearing your rubber gloves, by the end you were wiping sweat from your brow, the scalding hot water not helping matters in the slightest.

And by late afternoon, you were in the greenhouse, possibly the worst place to be this time of year due to the humidity. After helping Papa Primo with repotting and watering the new seedlings (and a quick rinse of your hands with the hose) you were dripping in sweat and ready to be done for the day.

Unfortunately, fate is rarely so generous.

You were nearly halfway back to the dorms when you suddenly stopped short as you remembered that you had promised Sister Isabelle to cover for her duties with Cardinal Copia tonight.

Shit.

You flew through the corridors back towards the upper clergy wing, dodging Siblings and ghouls alike in a panic induced frenzy. By the time you made it to the Cardinal's chamber, your habit was sticking fast to your skin and it felt as if your lungs were on fire. Hands on your hips, you bent at the waist to try and catch your breath. But the door, much to your horror, suddenly opened to reveal the Cardinal in his striking red cassock. His expression was one of confusion and concern given your current state.

You quickly straightened back up. "A-Apologies for my tardiness, Your Eminence, I came as quickly as I could!" you panted, absolutely mortified that a member of the upper Clergy was seeing you like this.

Copia blinked at you in surprise before remembering himself. “A-Ah, si, si . Come in, Sorella.” He stepped out of the way as you awkwardly nodded and walked past him into his room. He watched you intently as you stepped inside, although you didn’t notice how his eyes lingered on the way your habit clung to your curves and ass. He managed to drag them away before you turned back to face him.

“I’m covering for Sister Isabelle today, sir, so please let me know how I can help you this evening.” You clasped your hands in front of yourself, trying to put on a bright and bubbly front to him, despite how exhausted you already were. You prayed to Lucifer that you didn't look too much of a mess.

His neatly trimmed mustache twitched ever so slightly as he tried to keep himself professional. In your current state you were so positively alluring to him and he was already struggling to stay focused. “Thank you, Sorella. Your assistance is much appreciated. Uh…” He looked around the room, trying to decipher what was needing to be done, his eyes finding the older books and tomes he had scattered around the room. “Ah! I was doing a bit of research and I seem to have gotten carried away.” He sheepishly gestured to the various places they had been haphazardly placed. “Would you please be so kind as to gather and return these books to the library, per favore ?”

You nodded and he went to sit at his private desk to continue his work, the fabric of his cassock swishing against his legs. As you began to collect the numerous volumes that he had been studying, you couldn’t help but wonder what his research had been as you glanced at the titles: A Practical Guide to Demons, The Devil Wants YOU, Accepting the Light, Hell and Its Teachers , and Communications for Dummies among others. Perhaps it all had to do with his next sermon…

Unbeknownst to you, Copia kept stealing glances your way as you ambled around the room. He felt himself growing hotter under the collar, a gloved finger tugging it down to let in some air as he swallowed thickly. He had merely been minding his own business and now this… voluptuous little thing had practically been handed to him on a silver platter. And despite your best efforts, he could see how flustered you already were. It had been a very warm day after all, no doubt your Sisterly duties had already worn you out to a degree. And now you were here to cover for another Sister’s task. How generous of you…

Cazzo , he wasn't sure if he'd be able to control himself around such a delicious little morsel as yourself like this. It looked like you weren't the only one the heat was affecting as he felt the pants beneath his cassock become tighter. His fingers clenched at the thought of even just tasting you…

“I think that's all of them. I'll return shortly, Cardinal.” He whipped around, your voice startling him out of his lascivious thoughts. He mumbled a few words of acknowledgement as you left, the solid door shutting behind you.

The moment your footsteps receded he was up from his desk, pacing the room as his manic thoughts threatened to boil over. The leather of his gloves squeaked as he wrung his hands together in agitation. It would be wrong of him to take advantage of his position like this. But then his mind wandered back to how your habit fit so snugly along every sensuous curve of your hips, thighs, and belly. The patch of sweat he had noticed just under your guimbe, where your breasts would be. Even how your ass looked as you had sashayed past him while collecting his books.

He forced himself to sit back down at his desk knowing you could be back at any minute. He removed his biretta and rubbed his temples, breathing through his nose to try and calm himself. Only a gift from Lucifer Himself would be as delectable as you. And it had been so long since he last-

The door opened once again, startling Copia out of his train of thought with a jolt, inadvertently knocking his bottle of ink off the desk. He shot up quickly before the ink could stain his cassock. “ Merda !” he swore as the dark liquid began to pool on the floor.

“Shit!” you blurted without thinking, “I'm so sorry, Your Eminence, let me clean that up right away!” You quickly ran to his connected bathroom to gather something to clean the mess with. Copia made sure to turn away from you at the risk of seeing his predicament. You came back quicker than expected with some cleaning supplies and he whirled around again, his cassock twirling around him and nearly tangling his legs. He decided to play it safe and took a seat on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap to cover the unseemly bulge.

You went to work in cleaning up the mess, now on your hands and knees to wipe up the ink from under the desk. Copia’s eyes widened seeing your new position. Oh Sathanus , surely this was being done on purpose?! He couldn’t help but stare as your ass swayed while you worked, sweat now beading on his brow. Surely at this point his paint was beginning to smear and he would be caught, but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the lecherous thoughts that filled his mind of what he wanted to do to you in this exact moment.

All too soon, the moment was over as you stood back up. “Good news, Cardinal, I managed to clean up the ink before it reached the rug. I think with some vinegar I could-” You stopped, seeing his pained expression. “Your Eminence, are you alright?” You came up to him, his face red and he was sweating profusely. “Sir, are you ill?” You brought a hand up in an attempt to feel his temperature, but before you could he grabbed your wrist, making you jump.

“Sorella.” Your eyes widened. His voice was suddenly hoarse and had dropped in pitch. “Forgive me, but I can no longer help myself.”

With no other warning, he tugged you against him, his face burying immediately into the softness of your belly. You yelped, the feeling startling but not entirely unwelcome. However, you had no idea what to make of the Cardinal’s behavior. Little did you know, Copia was still fighting to hold himself back. He released your wrist, his hands wandering to your waist and holding you firmly against his face. Oh Satan below, he could smell you even now. His mouth watered with want to have your sweet cunt in his mouth already.

His hands gripped into the fabric of your habit, pulling away just enough to tilt his head up to look at you. Pure lust had his eyes glazing over as he gazed into your face. “Apologies for being so forward, dolcezza , but you are the most alluring creature the Dark Lord has had the beneficence of sending my way in a long time.” You felt your hem slowly hiking up but were too stunned to stop him. “Such a pretty little succubus you must be…” he mused, revealing more of your skin inch by agonizing inch. You felt your knees begin to tremble, threatening to buckle beneath you. Your hands gripped his shoulders for stability as he exposed more of you to his probing gaze.

The feeling of soft leather against your thighs caused your breath to quicken and small whimpers to escape your suddenly parched throat. “C-Cardinal,” you squeaked, “is this really-” Your words were cut off with a gasp as he placed a tender kiss above your soaking heat, over your underwear. The Cardinal was too far gone, already lost in the feel and smell of you. All it did was make him crave a taste, to savor you and all that Hell promised him for partaking in such glorious sin.

“ Per favore ,” he murmured, motioning for you to hold up the bunched up hem of your habit for him. You took it in one hand, the other still needing his shoulder for balance. Fingers dipped beneath the hem of your panties, carefully pulling them down your legs. Your body shivered as they pooled at your feet, Copia’s gaze never leaving the prize that was your quivering cunt in front of his face. He meticulously rubbed a single finger over your slit, reveling in how it easily slipped between your folds. You squeezed his shoulder, embarrassment flooding through you at how you were practically putty in his hands. As he pulled his hand away he groaned, seeing a trail of slick still connecting his finger to you. Within a moment it was in his mouth, his tongue laving over the leather pad as he sampled your flavor: sweet and tangy, but also salty from the sweat that no doubt gathered between your thighs as you went about your day.

He needed more. He needed all of you.

He grabbed at the hem of your habit again, having to tug it up as it was still stuck to you. You shivered when you felt Copia's breath on your slick skin, his leather gloves also sticking to the sweat that covered your body. As soon as you were devoid of all clothing his mouth was on your belly, immediately groaning and holding you close by the waist as he nipped and sucked anywhere he could. He delighted in your tiny yelps and whimpers. It spurred him on as he began to divulge himself of his own vestments, his mouth and tongue refusing to leave your body.

The rate at which he removed his clothes was agonizingly slow. He cursed the amount of buttons that kept everything in place. The torturous pace had you trembling for him, and the sight of your arousal coating your inner thighs only made his desire for you that much stronger. After what felt like an eternity, his red cassock was no more than a puddle of fabric on the floor, Copia now only in his undershirt and pants. You couldn't fathom how he could wear that many layers and not be in the same predicament as you were. Although it seemed there was worse he was currently going through…

Leather suddenly gripped your hips, urging you towards him onto the bed. “Straddle me, hm yes, just like that, dolcezza . My hell sent temptress,” he murmured almost to himself as he guided your thighs around his own. You gasped when you felt how hard he was beneath you, your body jolting and making you both groan in unison. He sighed, his eyes already glazed over as he leaned forward to take a pert nipple into his mouth. You couldn’t help but whine as he sucked it between his teeth, biting gently but not without ardor. Your hands clumsily grasped at his shirt, accidentally making one of the buttons go flying.

Copia couldn't have cared less in that moment, he was too lost in the taste and feel of you in his mouth, sucking harshly along your breasts with the intention of leaving marks - to claim. He still wasn't sure what had come over him, if it was a side effect of the heat or the influence of the Dark Lord Himself, but that was a moot point now. He could feel the cloth over his erection already becoming soaked between both his and your own arousal. And the way you ground that sweet pussy against him… he was dying to have it elsewhere…

“ Mia piccola diavoletta ,” he cooed, mouth coming up to suck a fresh mark onto your neck, “I need more of you. Here,” he practically pleaded, his gloved hand coming down to rub over your mound. His touch made you gasp as a skilled finger started to form teasing circles over your clit.

You nodded eagerly, eyes fluttering. “Please, Your Eminence,” words barely formed on your breath. You rolled your hips against his to further prove your enthusiasm for more. Maybe the heat was affecting you too…

You swore he growled as his lips claimed yours in a feverish frenzy of teeth and tongue. He coaxed you further up the bed, his lips never leaving yours. Somewhere in the tangle of limbs and sweat Copia had discarded his shirt leaving him in only his dress pants, which you continued to grind down onto, his erection rubbing perfectly against your aching core. His hands gripped and caressed you wherever they could before finally settling on your hips, helping you rock against him. You clung to him, your head falling to his shoulder; fingers running over his chest and appreciating the thickness of the hair covering it.

The two of you rutted together, letting the animalistic urges take over and allowing yourselves to simply enjoy each other's touch. The closer the two of you got, the more Copia leaned away, almost teasing as he tempted you to follow him. Before long he was laying flat beneath you, his hands lazily holding your hips as you continued to straddle him. The Cardinal was in complete awe of the creature above him, watching with half lidded eyes as you lost yourself in the feel of him. But he could tell it wasn't enough for you. You needed more, just like he did.

Tightening his grip, he slowly pulled your hips up, causing you to whine in frustration at the loss of friction. “No, no, Cardinal please-”

He hushed you softly. “Come closer, cara , I promise you'll like this.” He tugged at your thighs, moving you up towards his face. You felt your cheeks grow incredibly hot as you realized your most intimate place was now hovering directly over the Cardinal’s mouth. Once you understood his intentions, you felt your thighs shake with nervous excitement as heat pooled between them. Copia's hold on you suddenly wasn't enough as you clumsily grasped for the headboard to keep you steady. He chuckled darkly below you, craning his neck up to give you a quick swipe of his tongue. You yelped, feeling yourself become even wetter with his taunting.

“Come closer,” he purred again, his words merely a huff of breath with how eager he was to finally get his fill of you. His arms wrapped around the backs of your thighs, pulling you down towards his awaiting mouth.

“B-But, what if it's… too much?” Mortification flooded you at the thought of potentially injuring a member of the higher Clergy, or worse.

Copia's eyes softened slightly, even if his grip on you didn't. “If I am to meet our Dark Lord prematurely from such a tryst, I would be welcomed as a hero,” he grinned. “My only regret would be from not being able to make you finish again.”

You couldn't stop the small giggle that bubbled up from your throat. Slowly, you conceded in letting him pull you closer. You bit your lip as you watched him lower you down to his mouth, breath catching as his lips met with yours. His eyes fluttered closed with a moan as he was finally able to taste you directly, his tongue immediately lapping at your juices. He looked to be in complete ecstasy as he savored your complex flavor. This was as much a treat for him as it was for you.

And oh, how skilled he was. Even with his eyes closed he made sure to take note of every little noise and shudder that came from your body, focusing more on the areas that had you dripping even more for him. You saw his still gloved hands latch onto the tops of your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you like forbidden fruit. Finally, his eyes opened, his eerie white one piercing you with such a carnal look that you actually gasped, feeling your stomach flip. Oh Sathanas , you nearly came right then and there. But Copia's mouth became more measured, teasing your clit with kisses and soft licks before eventually pulling away enough for him to breathe.

“ Mia piccola demonietta ,” his mustache tickled down below as he spoke, “ per favore , use me, cara .” He kissed and nipped at your folds. “Ride me,” he pleaded.

You groaned as he went back to his work, his hands moving to your hips to once again guide you to rock them. A loud gasp broke from you as his nose nestled perfectly against your clit. You tightened your grip on the headboard, using it to steady yourself as your hips involuntarily moved for you, as if seeking out the greater pleasure your mind was still too hesitant to partake in. Copia seemed pleased with your compliance, moaning into you as you finally took what you needed from him. His tongue settled down at your entrance before suddenly filling you, letting you fuck yourself onto it. You cried out in surprise at how big it felt inside you. It made you crave to be filled even more by him.

Your head fell back as you rutted against the Cardinal’s face, finally allowing your worries to fade away and simply succumb to the sinful pleasure he provided. It was wet, and messy, and slick, but all you cared about now was how good it felt. With a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through Copia's graying hair, using it as further leverage to grind yourself down onto him.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn't feel one of his hands moving away, and you almost didn't hear the sound of a button being unclasped and a zipper being pulled down. But you definitely felt the sudden jerking motions of the Cardinal’s hand finally coming to ease the ache of his cock. The thought made you tremble and moan, just knowing that you had such a strong effect on him. You gripped his hair tighter and the jerking motions grew faster.

“So good, so c-close, fuck,” you panted, your hips moving in circles as you chased your orgasm. Through half lidded eyes you watched as he took the change with ease, eagerly pressing his tongue even further into you. Fuck, he looked so good beneath you like this.

Your hips moved faster, the heat in your belly nearly ready to be released. It felt like Copia was close too, his hand now flying against his cock. He moaned beneath you, as well what sounded like muffled whimpers. He was so focused on your own pleasure that he almost didn't realize you were tipping over the edge until he heard your pleasured cries coming loudly from above him. His eyes snapped open as he watched you come undone, relishing in how you suddenly gushed into his mouth. He drank you up greedily, gulping down the taste of your ecstasy.

He didn't last much longer either, your own orgasm helping send him over as well. You suddenly felt him stiffen beneath you, and then warm ropes of cum marking your back and ass. You gasped at the almost surreal feeling, the ebbing arousal making your mind hazy. Both of you stayed like that for a moment, not wanting the high to end. But you figured the Cardinal should probably be able to breathe again.

You groaned as your stiff muscles strained, pulling yourself off of him and collapsing against the headboard to his side, too tired and sore to care if you got his cum on it. You were pretty sure he wouldn't care either. It took quite some time for you to both catch your breath, simply finding peace in existing next to each other for the time being.

“So, is there anything else I can help you with, your Eminence?” Your voice was hoarse but there was still a playful edge to it after everything that had just happened.

Copia turned his head to look at you, his hair a mess and mustache plastered to his face, but that didn't stop the smile he gave you from looking any less lovely. “Ah, si . If it is not too much trouble, dolcezza , I was hoping to have some help testing out a new uh, bath bomb I think it's called.”

You gave a relieved sigh, happy to spend more time with the Cardinal if it meant finally being able to clean up. “Of course, sir, it would be my pleasure.”

#the band ghost #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia #sister of sin #smut #nsft #visific #ugh it feels so good to finally post this #a very self indulgent fic yes #but i wanted it to be perfect ❤

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wannabeschyulersister · 11 months

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you are in love vol 2

one look, dark room

meant just for you

“Don’t look but there is a beautiful man with a wonderful mustache wearing a horrible Hawaiian shirt totally looking at you.”

Your friend’s very weird sentence nearly made you spit out the beer you were currently drinking. “What?”

“I’ll tell you when to look,” Sam said and you wanted to look anyways, “No, not now. He’s still looking over here.”

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not looking at me.”

“(Y/n), he’s practically drooling.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” You say as you start to turn to see who she was talking about.

Sam quickly grabbed your arm, “No! You can’t look now! It’ll be obvious that I told you.”

“I want to see this mustached man.” You laughed.

She glanced behind you again quickly, “Okay….look now.”

You turned a little and saw who she was referring to.

Damn.

Sam was right. He was absolutely beautiful. He was with two friends, one blonde and the other a shorter, dark haired guy who currently has his attention.

They all looked like GQ models.

Then, as if you shouted his name across the loud bar, he looked back at you. When he noticed that you were looking at him, he smirked a little. Then he winked.

WINKED.

You turned back to Sam and she had this huge grin on her face. After knowing her for 10+ years, you knew that was her “I told you so” face. She was never shy about being smug.

“He didn’t even wink at me and I feel like swooning.”

“Sam, he’s probably just messing around.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is he heading this way?”

You froze, “You’re lying.”

“See for yourself.”

You turned and looked at the Hawaiian shirt guy’s previous spot by the dart board and he was missing. His two friends were there but he was not.

“He probably just went to the bathroom.” You said trying to restrain from looking around the bar for him.

You felt a small tap on your shoulder and you turned a little to see who it was.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry to interrupt but I had to come over here and say hello.” Even his voice was sexy. You felt like you could melt into a puddle right on the spot.

You thought he was handsome from far away but up close? Wow. He’s breathtaking.

“I’m Sam and this is my very single and very wonderful friend, (Y/n).” Sam said introducing the two of you.

You rolled your eyes at the “very single” part of her sentence.

The guy chuckled a little beside you, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/n). I’m Bradley.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The fact that you were able to complete a full sentence surprised the hell out of you.

“I’m going to go to the bar and get another drink.” Sam started to get up from the table but you stopped her.

“Your drink is practically still full.”

She grabbed her glass and downed it in one go. “It’s empty now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your friend’s antics as she walked away.

“She’s quite the character.” Bradley said as he occupied the now empty seat.

“Yeah, that’s why I keep her around.”

“I hope that I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable with me coming over here. I just- I noticed you across the room and I felt like I had to come over here and talk to you.” Bradley explained.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Maybe a tad bit confused.”

Now Bradley was the one that looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were looking at me.”

“Of course I was. I noticed you from the second you stepped foot in this bar. You practically lit up the place.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes a little, “Is that what you normally say to all of the girls you pick up from this place?”

Bradley chuckled, “No, I tend to keep to myself when I’m here.”

“Now that has to be a lie.”

“Why do you say that?” Bradley asked leaning closer.

“Look at you. You look like a model. That mustache shouldn’t work on anyone on this planet but it does. On you.”

That made him smile, “That’s the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me.”

“You’ve never gotten a compliment on that level before?”

“I’ve never gotten a compliment by someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone absolutely breathtaking.”

“Are you telling me you’re sprung on someone that you just met moments ago?” You asked him.

“All it took was one look.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x y/n

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carrot-love-to-be-indecisive · 3 months

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Desperate

Notes: Rosie has been married to her husband, Reginald O'Brian, for over twenty-plus years. However, as time passed, the charming facade of Reginald revealed his true self, and Rosie is desperate to escape her hellish marriage.

Trigger warning:

Blood/ gore, domestic abuse, murder, sexual violence, cannibalism

Rosie always starts her early mornings with a light breakfast and two cups of coffee. Today's morning was particularly stressful, due to her increased involvement with the suffrage movement in her local area. From the dining room, Rosie could hear her husband coming down from upstairs. She braced herself for whatever arguments her 'lovely' husband had in store for her this time. The sound of him coming down the stairs sounded determined.

Rosie hurried to finish her coffee when she felt two hands pressed firmly on her shoulders, keeping her in place as she tried to get up. "What's the hurry, my love?" A voice from behind said. It sounded accusatory, as always. Nervously, Rosie said, "I'm late for a…" She paused.

Rosie’s husband had made his distaste for the suffrage movement very clear to her. He disapproved of the idea of women's right to vote, believing they are too emotional to make any political decision, and that a woman's place is in the home and giving birth to children, preferably boys.

"I'm late for my daily walk at the park," Rosie lied, looking up at her husband. His big mustache covered his mouth, making it hard to read his expression, but his small, beady eyes expressed distrust. He wasn't buying her lie. His hands pressed, ever so slightly, down on her shoulders.

"My love, you don't have to lie to me," he said, grinning. Rosie stayed quiet for a while. Should she deny it, or just tell him the truth? Sheepishly, Rosie looked up at her husband again. "I'm… late for a meeting with the ladies," Rosie confessed. Her husband looked down at her, his eyes more black than usually and his grip on her shoulders starting to hurt. He didn't need to hear the exact words to deduce what she was up to. With a snarling tone in his voice, he said, "Don't bother yourself. I want you to stay home today."

He let go of Rosie's shoulder and walked around to properly look her in the eyes. He leveled with her and continued, "I have a very important meeting today, and don't think I don't know what you and your little group of misguided lady friends are up to." He snarled, staring daggers into Rosie. His posture was threatening, but he hadn't done anything yet. It depended on what Rosie said next. Rosie contemplated whether or not she should stand her ground. But her previous scuffle with her husband ended very poorly for her. Rosie broke eye contact, looked down at her hands, and with a timid voice, she said, "Yes, of course, my dear."

Rosie hated herself for letting someone control her like this. But she had yet to recover from the last argument. Her husband leaned back, satisfied with her compliance. He didn't have to use his 'special' tactics to make her listen to him this time around. He patted her on the head in a patronizing way. "Good wife."

After Rosie's husband had left for his very important meeting, she felt that she could finally breathe again. A maid, carefully approached Rosie, with a silver tray in hand. She curtsied before she spoke. "My apologies, my lady, but have you finished your breakfast?"

Lost in thought, Rosie didn't initially respond to her maid. The maid, ever so carefully, cleared her throat to garner some attention from her lady again. Rosie snapped out of her deep thoughts and looked over at the maid. The maid repeated her question and motioned to the table where Rosie's unfinished coffee sat.

"Yes, of course," Rosie replied, feeling silly that she hadn't heard the maid the first time. As the maid began cleaning off the table, Rosie slipped back into her deep thoughts—dark, unsettling, and quite disturbing. As Rosie stared aimlessly, thinking about her husband and their past twenty plus years together, a storm brewed within her regal facade. Beneath the veneer of elegance and poise, resentment raged within her.

As a young and inexperienced lady with little to no say when it came to love or romance, Rosie had resigned herself to one day marrying a man her parents had chosen for her. Her mother and father summoned her to the living room, where she was met by both her parents and a gentleman she had yet to be introduced to.

The gentleman was tall and slender, with sharp, angular features. In simpler terms, Rosie found him quite attractive. Her father cleared his throat. "Rosie, I want you to meet Mr. O'Brien. He's an attorney at a prestigious law firm. Mr. O'Brien, this is my daughter Rosie."

"Charmed." Mr O'Brien said as he bowed.

Rosie had just met this man, but she could feel a tingle in her body she'd never experienced before. Mr. O'Brien approached her, his movements exuding the confidence of a man accustomed to admiration, his dark eyes smoldering with a quiet intensity that made Rosie take a few steps back. She didn't even realize she was blushing until Mr. O'Brien pointed it out. "My, Miss Rosie, are you blushing?"

Rosie wished she could sink through the floor; she felt so embarrassed about her feelings. It wasn't very ladylike after all. Mr. O'Brien took Rosie's hand and kissed it gently. Rosie's face turned close to tomato red at this point. What was it about Mr. O'Brien that made her feel this way?

Her father cleared his throat once again. "Rosie, dear, I have asked Mr. O'Brien to accompany us for dinner. It will give the two of you a chance to get to know each other better."

In the midst of skipped heartbeats and flushed cheeks, Rosie nodded and gazed intensely into Mr. O'Brien's dark and mysterious eyes. Both her parents exchanged triumphant looks. It seemed their dear daughter had taken a liking to their chosen son-in-law.

Rosie and Mr. O'Brien, also known as Reginald, married after only three months of courtship. One could say their romance was a whirlwind, filled with intensity, passion, and heat. However, their marriage was built on a shaky foundation. While Rosie did love her husband, she consistently found his gaze wandering, from woman to woman, regardless of their marital status. It annoyed her to no end, and no matter how many times she expressed her displeasure about it. Reginald always had something to counter with, leaving Rosie on the losing end of every argument. Yet, she always found herself in his arms, forgiving him for his transgressions.

Years passed by and Rosie eventually came to terms that the love she and Reginald once had, was long gone. Her husband was away most of the day, for work, or for other women. His looks that she once admired had changed drastically and not for the better. Not that she was the beautiful rose she once saw herself as, but at least she kept up her appearance, as best she could.

Rosie found solace in her friends who introduced her to the suffrage movement. The subject of women's rights became Rosie's new passion. She rallied, demonstrated on the street, and held speeches, gaining more and more notoriety among her peers. She became the local face of their movement, much to her husband's displeasure. But for the most part, Rosie did what she wanted; her husband was away so much, no one was really there to stop her. Except for the police, of course. The last straw for Reginald's patience was when Rosie was locked up for disturbing the peace.

Bailing her out was the most socially embarrassing thing he had ever dealt with. Newspapers covered the scandal on the front page, sending Reginald into an uncontrollable fit of rage. Porcelain was smashed, furniture toppled over, and Rosie was his next target. He yanked her hair so ferociously that it felt like her hair was being torn from her scalp. He forced Rosie into their bedroom, his push causing her to awkwardly land on the bed. Then it all went black.

But the feeling from that fight never disappeared. It lingered and festered inside Rosie. She had a burning hatred for the man she once called her soulmate. If only she could find a way out of this hellish marriage. But how does one kill someone without getting caught?

Rosie was snapped back to reality when she heard the loud ringing from the clock standing in the hallway nearby. She got up from her seat at the dining table. Her maid had cleared the table a long time ago. She must think of Rosie as odd or peculiar for just sitting there and doing absolutely nothing. Rosie shook her head. She had missed the meeting by a whole hour. Would it even be fruitful to go at this point, she pondered.

A loud knock was heard from the foyer. The household's trusted butler, Andy, opened the door. Rosie couldn't hear who it was, so she peeked around the corner to see who was at the entrance. She immediately beamed as she saw it was her friends at the door. Rosie rushed to greet them. "Rosie, where were you? We waited for you to show up?" One of her friends said, in an annoyed tone of voice.

"I'm so sorry, I..." Rosie paused mid sentence, she contemplated if she should tell the truth. These are her friends and they would back her up no matter, especially considering the circumstances.

"I was told to sit this one out." She replied with an exhausted breath. "I'm truly sorry ladies."

Her friends were a mix of different opinions. But the consensus was that it was absolutely unacceptable for Rosie's husband to tell her what to do when he got to do whatever he pleased. With some encouragement from her friends, Rosie bid them goodbye, and they went on their merry way.

Left alone, Rosie walked herself to the home library. She passed by Andy, who gave her a nod of acknowledgement.The library is not big, and most books stored there were ones she had already finished reading. She scanned the shelves aimlessly. Her finger stopped at the book title "Lady Audley's Secret," a book that revolves around the mysterious Lady Audley, who harbors a dark secret related to her past. Although Rosie had already read the book numerous times, she made herself comfortable in the corner of the library. Rosie had read almost three quarters of the book when she heard footsteps approaching her area of comfort. Peeking around one of the bookshelves was Andy, the butler. He gave a quick wave. “I just wanted to let you know the cook and maid have already left for the day. I’ll be here until Mr. O'Brien is back.”

Rosie gave a small smile. She was thankful she wouldn’t be alone until Reginald was back home. Andy lingered a little bit longer, before he left Rosie alone again.

It was close to midnight when a booming sound came from the entrance hall. Reginald had arrived back home in a drunken stupor, shouting profanities. Andy had tried to calm Reginald down but was immediately pushed away. "Don't... Touch me... You filthy miscreant."

"WHERE'S MY WIFEY?" Reginald shouted out, looking around in the dark hallway. Andy once again attempted to calm and guide Reginald back to his sleeping quarters. But the older man was still strong in his drunkenness, pushing the young man to the side. Rosie had appeared by the top of the stairs, looking down at her husband with frustration. For a drunk, Reginald made it up the stairs quite fast. grabbing onto Rosie's arm. His breath smelled of alcohol and it made Rosie feel nauseous. She tried to get away, but Reginald's grip was tight. He flung her across the hallway, making her trip and fall head first into the carpet. Andy had reached the top of the stairs, ready to intervene, but Rosie had called out, demanding he stayed away.

It was one of those nights. Whatever had transpired at the meeting, it had not been in Reginald's favor, and now he was drunk, poised to vent his frustrations on whoever or whatever crossed his path. Andy was forced to watch as Rosie was dragged into one of the bedrooms. The door slammed shut, leaving Andy alone in the corridor. The sounds emanating from inside were muffled, but Andy could discern Rosie's pleas to her husband to stop. Resisting the urge to intervene and confront the bastard himself took every ounce of Andy’s resolve. It soon quieted down inside, and Andy had to hope that Reginald had perhaps blacked out. But far from it; Rosie's hellish night had just begun.

The night seemed endless and torturous. Rosie struggled to maneuver Reginald off of her so she could shift him beside her on the bed; he had drifted off to sleep while still on top of her. Every part of her body ached, making it impossible to find comfort, especially with her husband's incessant snoring aggravating the situation. Turning away from Reginald, Rosie rose from the bed. In the mirror, she confronted her disheveled appearance—her hair was tangled, and fresh bruises adorned her already battered body. Hastily, she dressed in fresh clothes, as the ones she had worn before lay torn to shreds on the floor.

Without making a noise, she managed to leave the bedroom without disturbing Reginald's sleep. Out in the corridor, it was dark, with only one lamp by the stairs still illuminated. Perhaps one of the maids, or maybe Andy had left it on for her? Rosie made her way down to the first floor, unsure of what she was going to do next. Usually, she simply wandered around like a lost cat in her own home. When Rosie reached the kitchen, she noticed the moonlight reflecting off the knives on the counter. Slowly, she approached and reached for one of them, dragging her finger along the blade—sharp and cold to the touch. "It's perfect," she said to herself, a smile creeping onto her lips.

Rosie returned to the room where Reginald was sleeping. He was still snoring, louder than a motor engine. Standing over the sleeping, snoring man, Rosie gripped the knife tightly in her hand. She couldn't stop shaking. What if he wakes up? What if he overpowers her and kills her? Her breathing grew heavier with each anxious thought, her hands beginning to clam up. "Just do it!" she scolded herself internally. At that moment, Reginald's snoring ceased. Rosie met his gaze, he was awake.

A shriek echoed through the room, accompanied by frantic up-and-down movements, blood splattering and covering most of the bed frame. Eventually, it all came to a halt. Rosie gazed down at her handiwork, unable to discern recognizable features on her late husband's disfigured face. When she glanced at her hands, she realized that the knife she held consisted only of the handle; the blade was lodged in Reginald's skull. In her vicious assault, the blade must have snapped off from the handle.

Rosie dropped the bloody handle onto the floor. She examined the mutilated body of her late husband. How odd, she thought to herself. Somehow he had become more desirable than he has been in years. Rosie looked at her hands again, covered in Reginald’s blood. The scent of blood made Rosie feel exhilarated. Without processing what she was doing, Rosie held her bloody hands close to her lips, she just wanted to know what it tasted like. The taste was metallic, salty, and slightly bitter, but at the same time very delicious. A wide smile crept up on her bloody lips. “My, my, maybe you can satisfy me one last time, my love.” Rosie spoke in a soft tone to the dead man laying on the bed, face completely obliterated.

The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the moonlight streaming in through the window, casting an eerie glow on the gruesome scene. Throughout the remainder of the night, Rosie gathered cleaning tools, new sheets, fresh knives, crates, and old bags. She had to get her late husband somewhere where he could be preserved for a longer period of time. She quickly realized she couldn't move Reginald's entire body in one piece. Rosie's next best option was to dismember him into manageable pieces. The moon provided sufficient light during her macabre task. However, cutting off limbs proved far more difficult than Rosie had anticipated. Her kitchen knives weren't strong enough, and she repeatedly cut herself in the process, forcing her to resort to other tools to break through the bones of his arms and legs.

As the sun began to rise, Rosie found herself still immersed in her gruesome work. Why did Reginald have to be so... meaty? She was drenched in both her own and Reginald's blood. Glancing at the small clock on the dresser, she noted it was nearly six in the morning; the servants would soon arrive at the estate to begin their duties. Rosie had to devise a plan to keep them at bay. Abandoning her current mission, she reminded herself that Reginald could wait—it's not as though he's going anywhere.

Rosie cleaned herself up, donned fresh clothes, and added some extra accessories to conceal her wounds from the cutting. As she descended the stairs, she could hear her cook and maid conversing in the kitchen.

"Well, don't just stand there, help me find the knives!"

"Where did you last see them?"

"Here, on the counter!"

Rosie prepared herself to interact with her maid and cook. Upon entering the kitchen, both her cook and maid curtsied in her presence. "My lady, good morning. I'm sorry, but breakfast will be delayed until I can find my kitchen knives." The cook sheepishly said, head lowered.

"That won't be necessary," Rosie replied, forcing herself to sound as normal as possible. "I was actually thinking that you all deserve a well-earned vacation."

The cook and maid looked at her as if she had grown a second head. "You mean unpaid leave?" the young maid asked, very confused.

"Oh, heavens no, I'll make sure you're paid the same amount as if you were working," Rosie chimed in, smiling an unnatural smile.

"What's this I hear about paid vacation?" Andy asked, inadvertently startling Rosie. Now that everyone was here Rosie repeated herself, expressing her wish for her employees to take a week off, to do whatever they pleased, as long as it was away from the estate. After much conversation, convincing and confirmation, the maid and the cook accepted the unexpected vacation but remained very confused. Andy was not as easily convinced.

"Why the sudden need to get rid of us?" he asked, rather accusatorily for Rosie's liking.

"I'm not getting rid of you, I'm simply giving you a week off from work," Rosie replied. "You should be happy!"

Andy looked at Rosie, trying to read her facial expression. Something seemed off. She appeared to be unraveling at the seams. "Rosie, did something happen after the..."

"No! ...I mean, no," Rosie corrected herself.

Andy turned away from Rosie to ascend the stairs to the room he last saw her in. Rosie followed behind, grabbing his arm to stop him. "Wait! Ouch," she winced as the cuts on her hand hurt when she tried to grab hold of Andy’s arm.

Andy paused and looked back at Rosie. She was cradling her hands close to her. He could see blood seeping through the fabric of her gloves, accessories she had put on to cover up her secret. "What did you do?" he asked sternly.

"I... I was desperate," Rosie whispered back.

The end/ Slut

#hazbin rosie #rosie hazbin #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hello rosie #hazbin headcanons

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mokutone · 11 months

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your art makes me wanna start testosterone

i can't read tone well, so this is either an incredibly touching ask, or an extremely funny one, and in the absence of confirmation: both!

i'm in a chatty mood, so i'll share some thoughts about testosterone and my art.

i liked being on testosterone a lot. i had an IM injection every two weeks (on tuesdays!) and because that's a sizeable dose every 14 days that slowly disperses, it can cause some mood fluctuations (every other friday i would have a crisis about not feeling like the world had a place for me in it) but even those were far more manageable than the ones that would come with my previous and current monthly hormone cycle (every month i spend a solid week thinking the world will never have a place for me in it)

It gave me a patchy little bit of scruff on my chin and a whispy mustache under my nose that still struggles on, despite adversity!

It redistributed my fat a little bit, but that's long since gone back to pre-T shape.

it lowered my voice! that hasn't changed :^)! even if i never go back on t, that won't change. it was the thing i most wanted, and its the one i'm most grateful for. Pre-T, I didn't speak much. I'm getting better and better at talking and getting more and more comfortable communicating with people because of it.

having been off t now for 3 years, i don't pass anymore—not as a cis man, or a cis woman, certainly not as anything approximating straight. if people look at me and see anything, i'd hazard a guess that they see me as A Queer (the noun—for all it's complicated connotations).

i'm not surprised that my art might make somebody want to start testosterone! a lot of my art was made out of the aching grief that came with being kicked off of testosterone, and how neatly that loss of autonomy over my own body knits in with yamato's loss of autonomy over his own.

how my body started doing things i disliked, how i didn't have the support necessary to access the healthcare i needed—how my inability to give myself what i needed made me feel as though i were trapped inside of myself and abandoned (by both myself and the world at large)

when i write comics about yamato as a trans man, i don't take away his testosterone, because that hits a little too close to home for me. for Ninja War Town Reasons, he has plenty of access to all the HRT he could ever need and nobody questions his need for it—instead, i project my own horrors onto the way Danzō defined his identity for him as a child, the way that Kabuto and Obito dehumanize him as an adult in their war efforts, and reduce him to the thing his body holds (the Mokuton). I give him a kneejerk compulsion to dehumanize himself (out of a feeling that he has a duty to his community to do so) and I give him a slow-growing resistance to that impulse (which comes out of a feeling that the people he loves would frown upon seeing him reduce himself like that)

it's dysphoria! it's not gender dysphoria, but it's a loss of self, and a need to reclaim it. it's a war between the hollow shell of a thing he thinks he has to be, and the vibrant and messy person beneath it that he is. it's a desperate need to say "this is who i am—only i can say it"

I enjoyed HRT a lot. it was a really useful tool in helping me feel like my body was my own, that i didn't have to fight it, that we were the same entity. It's not the only tool, but it was a really good one, and one day I hope to use it again.

(as for the being off of it—it's unpleasant, but i'm enduring! being somebody who now doesn't really pass as anything has put me in a weird and interesting position, where I'm constantly having to declare myself to people, because nobody knows what to make of me on any front. they don't know if i'm a man, a woman, nonbinary, nor even what age i am (Augh!!!!) it forces me to be brave and vulnerable more than I'm comfortable with—if I tell somebody I'm a man, there's no way that they will believe I'm cis, but I'm not about to recloset myself—and I don't think I could at this point anyway.)

(there's something fascinating about the position i find myself in, and while i'd leap back on t the moment that an opportunity presented itself to do so, i do feel like i'm experiencing something interesting and important in this weird zone i find myself in)

#yamswers #anonymous #dysphoria discussion #q slur — only because i literally use it in the noun form most associated w/ dehumanization #i love that u asked this on a tuesday. thank u for asking this on a tuesday #happy testosterone tuesday to all who celebrate #i also got top surgery a while ago—which is responsible for about 50% of my average suicidal idealizations vanishing #because my chest was my second biggest site of dysphoria after my voice #it was far less painful than i dared imagine. and far more satisfying. i had an excellent and lucky recovery #my results aren't perfect but oh man. the joy of being able to press my hand (flat) to my chest (flat).#the way that a binder mimics the exact squeeze around my lungs that a panic attack stimulates—#not feeling that when i'm out in public? thank you modern medicine. thank you. oh my god. no more false flag panic attacks #i had to fight my insurance for two years and all the health providers i contacted told me the hoops i was being made to jump through #seemed utterly ridiculous. and it was still gobs of money but i got it. so grateful u cannot even imagine #a lot of people describe their feelings post op as “relief—finally i could see myself”#but i experience...more delight than relief. joy. is joy the absence of pain or the presence of happiness? can i tell the difference?#on my worst days i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on my heart. and i can lay a hand on

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odetodilfs · 1 year

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I was wondering if you could do a fan fic where joel and tommy are traveling but it takes place 20 years before they meet Ellie and they meet someone along the way. they don’t trust him at first but joel starts catching feelings. you could make it smut or fluff it doesn’t really matter based on your previous pieces of work you seem to be a good writer

Please and thank you

Let myself loose

I loved this request so much!! It was super cute to write and overall just amazing, far better than my usual smut. Lots of fluff too!!

Pairing: bottom Joel Miller x top m!reader Warnings: Breeding, mentions of crying, implied homophobia, soft Joel deserves his own warning.

Joel had always lived with his attraction to men, he knew it, he acknowledged it, he just never told anyone, Texas wasn’t a good place to be queer, so he just pushed down his attraction to men and tried to focus on raising his daughter Sarah instead. It worked out alright for him, he was happy with her. That all changed one day though. After Sarah’s death which he mourned greatly, he and Tommy traveled across the US. Their travels made them closer as brothers and it helped Joel not be as stuck on Sarah’s death. They traveled the country and eventually got used to living in a world where rations were the norm and where vines growing on buildings was nothing out of the ordinary.

You on the other hand had no family and lived in New York, when the pandemic hit, you embraced your identity as a queer man and eventually when New York became deserted, you realized surviving winter there was not going to be easy, so you went further south towards milder climates. You had walked for days and you were exhausted, a clicker had messed up your car engine while you slept so you couldn’t use your car, there, you met Joel and Tommy, “Hey- guys-” you said tiredly, Joel instantly held up a weapon, “Hey, hey, calm down” Tommy said, grabbing the knife in his hand, “Let him talk” “Well, I’ve walked for days, and I’m super hungry…” you said, “and I’m alone” you said, trying to convince them to take them with you, “Do we trust him?” Joel asked, still worried that you might mean harm,” “He’s limping, Joel” Tommy replied almost sassily, “let’s help him” he said, helping you walk.

Joel had eyed you more now and something in him started to tell him, “Help that man walk, don’t let your brother do it” the voices in his head got louder as Tommy got closer to you, “No worries, Tommy, I’ll do this” he said, grabbing your arms and holding you up, “This good?” he asked, he couldn’t help but smile a tiny bit, “Yes, thank you, you have no idea..” you thanked them.

One thing you noticed about these two men was how incredibly good looking they were, but the Joel guy… he was incredible, that mustache, the brown eyes and the way he probably just wanted someone to hold him, he also smelt good, which was another plus for him, you learned the two men were brothers and also learnt Joel had recently suffered from his daughter Sarah’s death.

“Oh- oh shit man I’m so sorry” you said, patting him on the shoulder, Joel was trying hard to not sob, “Hey, it’s alright to cry” you reassured him, but he just blamed it on the ashes in the fire in front of you, “He’s like that” Tommy stepped in, but he’s a nice fella, anyway, where are you from? We come from Texas,” “New York” you said, “Nice, nice” Tommy kept talking, you could tell Joel was zoned out, probably still mourning Sarah. Joel was also paying attention to every word you were saying, you had caught him and he didn’t know why, but he was just so interested in everything you had to say.

However, the two brothers still distrusted you and it was clear enough, you sometimes caught them talking to each other and acting like they weren’t as soon as they saw you. But Joel started to like you more, eventually fully trusting you more. He noticed himself looking at you for longer than he should have, Tommy sometimes telling him what was the matter with him and why he was zoning out so often, Joel was starting to have to face the reality that he had caught feelings for you.

Your feelings for Joel also continued to grow, you had managed to see another side of him, you went to sleep every night, imagining what those sweet, full looking lips tasted like, holding Joel as physically close as possible, things like those were what made you smile, you had tried to be extra flirty with him, but he just didn’t catch onto your flirting. Tommy decided to part ways and started to live in a city, it was clearly hard for Joel who wanted to keep traveling, but Tommy was tired of walking around, he wanted to settle down, have his own kids. Luckily, you were there for Joel, and he realized he had no choice but to trust you blindly, you and him became like best friends to each other, you were the only thing you both had, which just strengthened your feelings for each other even more. The tension between you two could be cut with a knife, if someone had been with you they definitely would’ve just asked you to kiss already. One night, it was super cold, like your bones start aching kind of cold, and when you were sleeping in a house with no windows, the cold had no trouble getting in, you got to thinking and realized the only way for you to sleep would be to cuddle with Joel, and upon further notice, it was a chance to cuddle him as well, “Joel, I’m fucking cold” you complained, following your plan, you looked at him, he started removing his jacket, he was always so selfless, just one element of the endless list of things you liked about him, “No, you fucking silly, we should… sleep close to each other” you cut yourself off right before saying cuddling, “No, take my jacket” Joel protested, he loved the idea of cuddling you, but he was too nervous, he didn’t have enough confidence, “For fuck’s sake Joel, I said no” you complained, going closer to him, Joel felt himself getting weak as you approached.

You snuggled in close to him, Joel immediately tensed up at the feel of your body warming him up, you turned around so you could see his face, your lips were mere centimeters from each other, “Joel-” you started saying, “Thanks for doing this to keep us warm” he said, still tense, trying to change the topic

“Joel, I know you want to kiss me” you continued, Joel hadn’t done a very good job at keeping his feelings for you hidden… he didn’t reply, he started to panic, you realized you had to make the first move, so you grabbed his head and kissed his lips firmly but sweetly. His lips were amazing, the way your tongues were against each other, the way he tasted, the soft, faint whimpers he let out as he finally gave into the pleasure he’d wanted to feel for so many months. When you pulled apart, Joel still had his eyes closed, he gradually opened them, “I-” he started

“Joel, it’s alright, I’ve wanted it for months too, you’re the most beautiful man I’ve seen” you confessed as you ran your hand along his cheek, there was a tear rolling down his face, “And I mean it, you could say I love you, the way you get dimples everytime you smile, the way you laugh, the way your face looks so cute when you zone out,” you said, then, he said what you’d dreamed that he’d say one day, “I love you too,” he confessed as he held you, “I’m just so damn afraid of losing you, or maybe I wanted to give this Sarah business some time, but I’ve loved you ever since I helped you walk when we met” he confessed, his eyes glowing with happy tears, “Now… cuddling sounds good, but don’t you think we can warm ourselves up doing something more… active?” he said, flirting as he stroked your inner thigh, you hadn’t pictured him as the type to flirt, but your dick was getting hard at his words…

“Joel-” you moaned, “I’ve wanted to do this for so, so, fucking long,” he breathed out, “Then do it” he didn’t quite know what to do, it was his first time with a man, but his legs naturally spread for you, you looked at him, you didn’t really mind who was a top and who bottomed, but the way Joel’s legs spread out for you gave you a view of his ass, you wanted to fuck him, be inside him, “It’s my first time with a man-” he moaned, “It’s alright Joel, but we don’t have lube, you’re gonna have to suck me first so I’m lubed enough for you to take me” “Sure, darling” he said, moving down your body and taking out your cock, the cold air hit it but immediately went into Joel’s warm, waiting mouth. Joel sucked your dick and it was the first time he’d sucked a cock, but he was surprisingly good at it and kept trying to swallow your cock, you were shaking in pleasure, his mouth felt amazing, your dick was twitching in his throat. He was extremely eager, you could tell he was trying to lube you up as fast as possible, he was taking your cock so well down his throat, but you felt your orgasm getting close, “F-fuck- Joel, if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” you whimpered, he immediately took your cock out of his mouth, “Are you lubed up now?” he asked so prettily, your dick glistening with his spit, “We could try” you said, taking some of the slick on your dick and putting it on your fingers, then pulled Joel’s pants down, his hole was exposed to you. You started putting your fingers inside him to loosen up, he just moaned and begged for more, being as loud as he wanted to, he was confident no one was around, when you had two fingers buried in his ass, you finally found his prostate, he yelped in pleasure and threw his head back, “Is that good, Joel?” you asked sweetly, “Y-yes- m-more- again-” he whimpered, “As you say, my love” you went back to fingering him, then pushing a third finger in, there was a lack of lube, so you had to be extra gentle with him, but you managed.

As you started to go inside him, he whimpered, you held his hand, “Shh my love, I’m right here” you reassured him,

“This isn’t a one time thing, tell me it’s not a one time thing please” he begged, totally seriously, “it won’t be” you kissed him, “I love you, Joel” you whispered, your dick kept going further inside him, “Oh fuck-” Joel moaned as tears came out of his eyes from happiness and pleasure, “Shhh, it’s alright, you’re taking me well my dear, so well…” you reassured him, your cock brushed past his prostate and he breathed in sharply. His ass felt so warm around your dick, and the way he clenched slightly was giving just the right amount of pressure on your dick.

You moaned as you started thrusting into him, Joel’s eyes shut tight in pleasure, your dick getting closer to orgasm with each thrust, “Please-” he begged, having no idea what he was begging for, all he knew, was that he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, “What do you want, my sweet Joel?” you asked him, “Ngh-” Joel moaned, he started looking you in the eye, his eyes were wide open just like his mouth, he started breathing hard and Joel came a lot, he was having the best orgasm of his life as you continued fucking into him, the way he clenched around your cock so tightly made you scream in pleasure as well and cum inside him, making him yours.

You pulled out, “Did you like that?” you asked, smiling

“I loved it” he said, cuddling you and putting his clothes back on, “Better now? Not cold?” he chuckled “No” you said as you laid your head on his chest, “Were you serious?” he asked, “When you said you loved me?” “I was, I’ve loved you for long enough, I couldn’t repress it anymore” you confessed, “But… what if I’m not enough for you?” Joel started, “You are enough for me, Joel,” you said as you brought him in for a soft, sweet kiss on the lips, “you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, a man to love, as we cuddle after sex, but maybe not in a post apocalyptic world, but I’m happy for once, and it’s because of you” you said, “I love you” he simply said and held you to him as he sobbed into your shoulder, “I don’t want to lose you” he said, worried for you, “You won’t, we’ll travel the country together, proudly holding hands, cause no one will be there to call us names, we’ll be free” you held his hand, “We will be” Joel said as he started to fall asleep, “Goodnight, babe” he said, “Goodnight my love, sleep well” you said, now both of you warm.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x male reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou #gay #x male reader #gay love

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collinrobinsonsglasses · 2 months

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Hi I really liked ur too gentle to be a pirate slow burn for Izzy, and I wondered if you could do something similar but for steddyhands or ed teach

Blackbeard X Reader (GN)

This will be a series. A slow burn with Edward Teach before meeting Stede. Edward and Stede are end game, but it's fun to imagine what a relationship with younger Edward would have been like.

Home Sweet Home

Edward stood tall, the rough wood of the ship’s railing pressing against his chest as he leaned over the side, his gaze fixed on the distant silhouette of Bristol, his hometown. The salty sea air stirred, sending a cool breeze through his black beard and eliciting a shiver down his spine. Perhaps it was more than just the chill; his gaze drifted to the spot on the dock that haunted his nightmares– the very place where he had ended his father’s life many years ago. He had returned a few times since setting sail aboard The Ranger under Benjamin Hornigold, a fierce pirate captain who proved to be both lethal and a pain in Edward’s ass. He never looked forward to docking in his hometown, especially after his mother’s passing. For him, there was nothing left here anymore.

He felt a large hand forcefully slap him on the back, and he turned to see Calico Jack at his side, his hair messily strung in a ponytail down his back. A large mustache graced his face, and a cocky grin spread across his features.

“Blackie, I’m ready to blow off some steam tonight. Hornigold has been such a dick,” Calico Jack exclaimed, his voice laced with amusement as always.

“Poor fucking Felix,” Edward whispered to himself, his thoughts dwelling on the torment the young cabin boy had endured that week.

“Oh yeah. The crab thing?” Jack responded casually. “That was pretty fucked up.”

A beat of silence hung between the two of them before Calico Jack continued, swiftly brushing past the memory of the live crab crawling its way through the boy’s stomach, ultimately killing him.

“Luckily for you, I have the best cure for a shitty week: drinking and screwing.”

That’s how Edward found himself in multiple rundown bars throughout Bristol, never once letting it slip to Jack that this was his hometown. Even though he considered Jack one of his closer shipmates, it was a common rule among pirates to keep your past to yourself. You never knew who might turn against you, or who you could truly trust. Ed had only a few drinks, determined to keep his wits sharp in this unsettling city. He let Jack believe he had been participating more heavily, knowing it was easy to deceive him, especially once he himself had started drinking.

Jack chose the last bar of the night, hoping for better luck in his pursuits for sex than the previous establishments. Ed and Jack both entered, their attention immediately drawn to you, for different reasons. You were there, serving drinks with a forced smile, weariness evident in your demeanor as you interacted with the patrons. The moment Edward laid eyes on you, memories from the past flooded back, recalling the nights you had snuck away from home late at night, sharing secrets by the dock, and exploring the city together hand in hand. You were his childhood sweetheart, and even now, Edward couldn’t help but find you to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

However, he couldn’t ignore Jack’s predatory and intense stare directed at you, realizing that Jack also found you attractive. A surge of jealousy and protectiveness swept over Edward, despite nothing ever truly happening between the two of you. He didn’t like the idea of Calico Jack’s hands on you, especially considering where those hands had been.

Edward kept his eyes fixed on you as you approached their table, noting the fleeting moment of recognition in your widened eyes before you composed yourself. “What are you two drinking tonight?” your voice reached him, and he allowed his gaze to momentarily drift away from your face, catching the expression on Jack’s features. Edward knew Jack well enough to anticipate that he was on the verge of saying something fucking stupid.

“I think I’d like a taste of you, if that’s available,” Jack slurred drunkenly, reaching his hand to grab your waist. Edward watched intently as you gracefully dodged his advances, a flicker of annoyance crossing your features.

Edward observed as you shot him a curious glance, your eyes transitioning into a look of cool calmness. Sliding one hand onto the table, you leaned in, tilting your head and offering Jack a wicked smile. “It’s available. But there’s only one small issue for you.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked, his grin widening as his eyes roved over you from head to toe. Edward felt a knot tighten in his stomach at the interaction, a sense of unease settling over him. He considered how satisfying it would be to punch Jack in this moment for looking at you that way. But he knew he had to keep his cool; otherwise, he’d risk people discovering who he was.

“I have standards,” you whispered in response, your eyes alight with amusement as you watched the smile drop from Jack’s face.

“Just rum,” Edward cut in quickly, attempting to conceal a smile.

“Rum it is,” you replied smoothly, before gracefully making your way back to the bar. Edward observed you with admiration, noticing how you seemed unfazed by Jack’s advances.

Jack changed the subject quickly, as he tended to do whenever he was utterly rejected. Edward had seen this pattern throughout this whole night. As Jack prattled on about a prank he had pulled on one of their shipmates, Edward found himself drifting in thought, his gaze repeatedly drawn to you. Each time your eyes met, you exchanged warm smiles, a silent understanding passing between you. Jack appeared too intoxicated to notice these subtle interactions.

When Jack excused himself, announcing loudly that he needed to whiz, Edward seized the opportunity to sidle up to the bar, eager to talk with you. Ed watched as your delicate hands expertly wiped down glasses, lost in the rhythm of your movements, until you noticed his presence and glanced up from your work. As your eyes met, Edward felt a silly smile spread across his face, a warmth flooding his chest as if he were a teenage boy again.

“Edward Teach,” you sang softly, returning a calm smile to him while continuing your work.

“Born on a beach,” Ed replied, his words sounding somewhat stupid to his own ears, until the sound of your laughter reached him. It was a beautiful sound, one he had forgotten in the midst of everything he had gone through since he left.

“What are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

Ed watched as your eyes briefly shifted down to focus on the glass you were holding. He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same nervousness he did at this unexpected encounter. It wasn’t like you to show vulnerability easily, always the stronger one between the two of them. Edward recalled how he had been an emotional child growing up, until his father had beaten that out of him. In contrast, you had always been his rock in Bristol, the one who kept him steady. Edward knew that your childhood had been as difficult as his, but you only ever mentioned it briefly in all the time he knew you. You had once opened up to him about your cruel sister and mother, with your father being the softener presence in your household.

“Just passing through,” Edward replied, his eyes briefly flicking towards the door as a very drunk Jack stumbled back into the bar. “When are you finished with work?”

“An hour or so,” you answered calmly, meeting his gaze before giving a weary glance towards Jack.

“Meet me at our old spot once you’re done?” Edward suggested with a smile, sliding enough coins across the bar to cover their drinks and leaving a few extra for you.

“It’s a date,” you replied teasingly. Edward felt his heart rate increase at your words, but he only responded with a wink. Quickly, he moved towards Jack in the doorway, attempting to usher him out onto the street and back to the ship.

After dumping Jack’s drunken body back in his bunk, Edward made his way back to the shore, heading to a familiar spot under the docks. He settled onto the sand, his heart racing with anticipation as he eagerly turned his head towards any sound he thought might be you. As he waited, Edward tried to convince himself to play it cool, to show you how much he had changed since you last saw him. He wanted to prove he was different now, that he had grown and matured in his time at sea.

Finally, you arrived, holding up a bottle of rum with a mischievous grin before settling onto the sand next to him. Your knee casually rested against his leg, and though you didn’t seem to notice, that physical touch consumed Edward’s attention until you began to speak.

"Edward Teach," you whispered, gazing at him as if he wasn't really in front of you. "You finally grew up enough to grow a beard."

"Fuck off," Edward replied with a chuckle.

Your laughter echoed under the wooden slats of the dock. "You were always complaining about how you wanted a beard. You said that only real men were able to grow a beard, and you were ready to be a man."

Edward forced himself to roll his eyes, feigning annoyance at your teasing, though he secretly relished every moment of being next to you.

"I forgot you were such a dick."

"Well, it's good you came back, so I could remind you," you quipped, nudging your shoulder against him in a familiar gesture from your younger days.

How are you?" Edward whispered softly, his gaze filled with genuine concern, as if being in this spot had reminded him of all the shit you had both faced.

Edward watched as your expression darkened at his question. "My dad is sick, so I'm taking care of him and trying to work enough to keep us going, but I’m doing well enough" you replied somberly. Despite your words, Edward sensed a hint of reassurance in your tone, as if you were trying to convince yourself that everything was indeed fine.

Edward slid his fingers through yours, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, and you responded with a grateful smile at the gesture. Despite the warmth exchanged between you, Edward sensed that you weren't going to expand further on your life.

You took a swig from the bottle of rum before handing it to him. "How about you, big bad pirate? You seem to be keeping great company," you remarked sarcastically, your expression indicating you were referring to the brief interaction you had with Jack. A feeling of embarrassment washed over him.

"Calico Jack is an ass, but he isn't that bad once you get to know him."

"Calico Jack?" you gawked at the name, finding it amusing.

Edward realized it was a silly name. All pirates tend to pick ridiculous names for their alter ego. Edward included.

"Pirates tend to pick new names. It’s his alter egos, I guess," Edward explained, watching your eyes study his face intently.

A mischievous grin spread across your face. "What's your pirate name, Edward?"

"I would tell you if you weren't such a dick," Edward whispered back, leaning his face closely to yours. He knew you would laugh at him, especially after already teasing him about his beard.

Your fingers grasped his tighter, and you moved to perch on your knees, staring at him intently. "You have to tell me," you insisted, your smirk adding to the mischievous glint in your eyes. Edward's gaze shifted from your smirk to your lips, and he couldn't help but wonder how they would taste, whether they would feel as soft as he imagined against his own. Despite growing up together, he had never kissed you, but the thought had lingered in his mind as a distant fantasy.

As if realizing he had not responded and where he had been staring, Edward quickly succumbed to your question, hoping you hadn't read his thoughts. "Blackbeard," he whispered.

Your laughter rang out, just as he had anticipated, but it was music to his ears.

"I should have guessed," you replied with a giggle, running a finger gently across his chin. Edward felt a shift in the air, similar to what he felt before a storm, as he realized how close the two of you were now. "Blackbeard," you repeated softly, seeming to savor the name. He enjoyed hearing his new name on your tongue. "You really are a man now," you added, your eyes tracing his face.

Edward had to resist the urge to kiss you; every part of his body was screaming for you, yearning to show you how much of a man he had become. But he knew you deserved better than him. You always had. Kissing you right now would only complicate things, and you didn't deserve that with everything else you had going on. Instead, he bumped his shoulder against yours, echoing your earlier gesture.

You both stayed up talking the rest of the night, watching as the sun rose above the shoreline, until its golden rays crested the blue waters rolling before you both. Reluctantly, Edward made his way back to the ship, his hand wrapped in yours again, wishing he could hold onto it forever. He stopped at a place far enough away where he knew no one on The Ranger could see him.

"Are you ever coming back here?" you asked quietly. Edward saw the pain in your eyes and felt thankful that he hadn't kissed you; it might have been impossible to leave if he had.

"I don't know," Edward replied honestly.

He watched as your expression changed into an easy smile, knowing you had pushed down that other emotion that threatened to break through. He had seen you do that plenty of times growing up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and his arms found your waist, squeezing you closely to him. He savored how your body felt against his, not knowing if this would be the last time he held you. You loosened your grip on him first, causing him to let you go, and you began making your way back to town. He watched as you walked away, feeling the tug in his heart to follow you, then you turned back towards him.

"I like the beard, Ed," you said, your eyes narrowing as if you were making a decision on whether to say something further. Then you spoke again. "Next time you come back, find me again." Before he could respond, you turned to walk again.

If he sailed here again, there was no doubt in his mind that he would go to any length to find you. He knew that fact even before you asked. He had left this life behind, but you were the one piece of the past he would relish in when he was back. As the ship set sail, instead of leaving his former home with relief like he expected, longing sat in his heart. He hoped Hornigold would choose to return to Bristol soon.

#ed teach x reader #edward teach x reader #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd x reader #ofmd fanfic #edward teach

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rand0mfangurlstuff · 1 month

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I'll Look After You - Part 5 - Bucky x Y/N

The next few minutes after their first kiss was filled with many more. Nose kisses, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, just about every inch of Y/Ns face had been kissed. She giggled, his mustache tickling her. 'I have to go now, I have to work remember?' she said between giggles. Bucky thought it was just about the sweetest sound he had ever heard,he never wanted her to stop, and he certainly did not want her to leave. He spoke to her between kisses. 'No (kiss) dont (kiss) leave me (kiss) yet (kiss) I'm not (kiss) done.' Y/N had never had someone treat her so adoringly before. She could get used to this. But for now she had to obtain some sense of decorum. She gently pushed him away by his shoulders until he was lying back on the bed. The look he gave her was absolutely sinful, until she backed away from him. Then suddenly he looked like a five year old who just had his lolly-pop stolen. 'I'm sorry. But I have to go get ready for work. I'll see you soon.' With a smile she blew him a kiss, smart enough not to get too close to him again incase he grabbed her and stopped her leaving again. She walked away as he smiled back at her 'I look forward to it.'

A few hours later, Bucky was bored. He had waited as patiently as he could, but Y/N still had not come back to his cublice. He knew she was near. He could hear her lovely voice as she spoke to other nurses and patients. He's certain he heard her walking with another soldier, helping him with his physical therapy. 'That's fantastic Lieutinant, you're doing a lot better since yesterday.' 'Thanks Nurse Y/N.' 'Lets try with me just holding one hand, you can do it.' He could imagine her sweet smile as she held the young Lieutinants hand, encouraging him to take more and more steps. Bucky again felt that little flame of jealousy. He knew she wasnt interested in the young soldier, but he was jealous that he got to hold her hand and see her smile while Bucky just lied there in his bed bored. When's my physical therapy. I need a lot of physical therapy. He thought to himself.

Another hour went by and still no Y/N. Bucky was giving up hope when his curtain was pulled back and there she was. She wasnt alone though, Dr. Andrews was with her. 'Good afternoon Major Egan.' the doctor reached to shake Bucky's hand. 'Afternoon Doc.' He looked to Y/N, she smiled while walking towards him. She stayed quiet as she checked his vitals while the doctor read Bucky's chart. Finally Y/N spoke 'Everything looks good Dr. Andrews.' 'Fantastic. How are you feeling Major?' the doctor asked still never looking up from the chart in his hands. 'I'm okay, ribs still hurtin' though' Bucky said. 'Well that will take some time. Usually 6-8 weeks until full recovery. But I'm happy with your progress. I see no reason to keep you here any longer.' The doctor finally looked up at Bucky with a smile. Before, this would have been great news to Bucky. But that was before her. Now the thought of being discharged was worse than crash-landing in occupied France. 'What? Really? I thought I'd still be here -' 'I'm not saying you can get back in a plane, but your typical Air Exec duties should be manageable. We will have you back in two weeks for a check up. Nurse, you'll get the discharge papers ready please?' 'Yes Dr. Andrews.' With that the doctor left.

Y/N was suprised. She thought Bucky would be delighted to get out of here. She was delighted for him. Sure she'd miss seeing him every day, but it was better for him and his mind to be away from the infirmary and the sick, injured and possibly dying. But the look on Bucky's face was not excitement. If anything, it was sadness. 'Isn't this good news? I thought you would be delighted. Yes its a shame you cant fly yet, but the weeks wont be long going by.' She figured that was what was bothering him, being at a desk. She tried to get him to look on the bright side. 'You can still work just take it easy.' 'It's not that I dont want to go back to work,' he said eyes boring into his hands. 'I just don't want to leave here.' 'Why on earth would you want to stay- oh.' she realised then. As he looked up at her with his baby blues, she realised he didn't want to leave her. He would willingly stay in this hellscape of an infirmary, just to spend more time with her. Nobody had ever liked her that much before.

He felt awfully vulnerable. He didn't like showing people he cared. 'I dont even feel it' being his frequent go to catchphrase. But he did feel it. He felt it for her. He needed her to know that he cared about her and didn't want to leave here. For fear of not seeing her enough, for fear that she would forget about him when he was no longer her patient, he wasnt sure. He just wanted to be near her. She made him happy, and happiness was in shrt supply these days. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. She placed her hand on his cheek and he leaned into the touch. 'It's a pity you want to stay in here, with you out of the infirmary and no longer my patient, I thought maybe you'd want to go out sometime. But if you dont want t-' 'Yes!' he almost screamed, making Y/N jump in suprise. He quickly composed himself. 'I suppose that would be nice, I could take you on a real date, not like that terrible excuse of a date you had with Croz.' Y/N lightly hit his shoulder. 'Be nice! And besides it wasnt really a date, not like he picked me up or brought flowers or anything. We were just two people at the same place at the same time having a drink together. Besides I'm almost certain he's married.' 'Well I'll still show you a better time than he ever could, no doubt about that doll.' With a teasing glint in her eye she smirked, kissed his cheek and got up and walked away. 'We'll see.'

When Bucky was discharged around an hour later, he wanted to come find Y/N again to discuss their date. Their date. Bucky still couldn't believe it. He was going to go on a date with Y/N. He found her at the nurses station. 'Hello there gorgeous.' he leaned against the desk. Another nurse standing near by heard him and started giggling. 'Hello Bucky, finally ready to get out of here?' she smiled while giving daggers to the giggling nurse. 'Not quite. We have to discuss our date first.' 'What date?' What date? Had he dreamed it all? Was he sicker than the doctors thought and his mind was running away from him? 'Didn't we say when I leave here we-' 'You never actually asked me out. You just said you could take me out. And said it would be better than a date with Harry. But you never actually asked.' She was teasing him. Making him work for it. He admired her for it, and he liked playing this cat and mouse with her. 'Well, I'm sure I could find the time in my schedule to take the lovely nurse who helped my recovery out to dinner.' he smiled his most seductive of smiles, making butterflies appear in her stomach. But she had to play it cool. 'I'm sure you're awfully busy Major, don't worry about me.' 'Well I do have some extra time on my hands now that I'm unable to fly.' 'Well I would have to check my schedule, and I'm often booked up far in advance.I work long hours and of course there is all the special attention I like to give to my patients.' Her smile was sinful. The way she looked up at him from her desk, pencil between her teeth, it was sending Bucky wild. 'Ah yes, your special assets are very important to the patients here I'm sure of it. Perhaps they would survive without you for one night though? Maybe Friday?' It was then her expression faltered to one of geniune dissapointment. 'I'm working the night shift on Friday.' 'I'll swap with you!' It was Nurse Giggles, had she been listening the whole time? 'I'll work your Friday night if you work my Saturday night? There was actually somewhere I was hoping to go on Saturday night so you would be doing me a favour.' Nurse Giggles was suddenly in Bucky's top five list of favourite people. 'Are you sure?' Y/N said. 'Absolutely!' Y/N turned to Bucky, seductive smirk back firmly on her face. 'It looks like my schedule is now clear Major. What did you have in mind?' 'You leave that to me doll. I'll pick you up at 1900.' With that he winked at her and walked out the door. He was going on a date. A date with Y/N. All he had to do was plan the date. He had to plan the most wonderful date in the history of dates. Bucky's hear sank to his behind and his stomach did several backflips. Oh shit.

#masters of the air #callum turner #john bucky egan #mota #john egan #masters of the air fan fiction #masters of the air fanfic #john bucky egan x reader

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k-evans-reads · 1 year

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In Living Color

Chapter 13 - Part Three

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 5,128

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

October 30th, 2021

“Nat! Are you almost ready? We’re going to be late!” Chris yelled down the hall as he glanced at his phone, seeing the time passing with not much left before Tara’s party started.

“Yeah, be ready in a second!” Her voice echoed.

Satisfied with her answer, Chris plunked down at a kitchen chair and put his hand out for Dodger, letting the pooch sniff him before his tail began to wag when Chris scratched him. As Chris sat there at the kitchen table, he couldn’t help but feel excited at the night ahead. When he was back home in Boston, he loved being able to spend time with his lifelong friends, surrounded by the people who had known him since he was that dorky teenage theater kid. Some of these people had become like his family and it felt so good to be able to introduce Nat into this group, knowing that they’d all fall in love with her just as easily as he had.

Tara’s Halloween party had felt like the perfect place to bring her too, it being a more low pressure and fun environment but even now, only a half hour before the party began, Nat still wouldn’t tell him what her costume was. He had decided on Crocodile Dundee, one of his favorite movies from the 80’s and had even completed the look with a blow up alligator that Nat had gotten him. Although he’d been bugging her for over a week to try to find out what plans she had for her costume, she wouldn’t say a word.

Being the wildly creative artist that she was, he knew it’d probably be something a little more out of the box but when she finally rounded the corner into the kitchen, Chris couldn’t stop himself from flopping backward in his chair, a hand flying to smack his chest and a loud hysterical laugh pouring out of him as he pushed out through his rapid fire laugh, “What is that?”

“Hello, I am Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die,” Nat told him with an accent so bad that even a children’s theater production would have criticized it.

“I can’t believe that’s your costume,” his laughter was still bubbling out while he took in her entire look, asking, “What is that mustache put on with?”

“I drew it on with my eyebrow pencil,” Nat told him before a smirk appeared on her lips, noting that, “It looks better than the one you had earlier this year.”

At the comment, he rolled his eyes even though he was full of amusement and asked her, “Still never going to let me live that down?”

“Nope.”

Chris finally stood up, ready to get going but when he took another look at Nat in that costume, he burst into laughter yet again. She was about to be meeting almost all of his lifelong friends for the first time and yet she’d chosen to dress in a costume complete with a mustache. But that was just the epitome of Nat, completely unafraid to be herself, and that was one of the things he loved the most about her.

“I have to say,” Nat began, pulling his attention to her and letting him see the way her eyes were raking him up and down before her hands came out to rub his bare chest that was showing underneath the small vest he had on. “I really like this choice of costume for you.”

“You’ve got a thing for Croc Dundee, don’t you?” He smirked, arms coming to wrap around her waist.

“When he looks like you, yeah,” was her easy response.

Chris smiled as he leaned down to press their lips together, his eyes closing as he focused just on the feeling of her lips on his while her hands rubbed around his sides before he felt them rubbing along his back. He always loved feeling her touch, loving her hands on his skin and he shivered slightly from the way her fingers trailed down his back before coming down to squeeze at his firm ass, making him feel warm from the inside out. He started to not care about the fact they might be late to the party and instead began to wish they would be late, but when he pulled back momentarily to catch his breath and his blue eyes fluttered halfway open, his hands dropped from her as he burst into his loud laughter yet again.

“I’m sorry, I just cannot take you seriously with that mustache!”

“You didn’t seem to mind a minute ago,” Nat smiled as her arms wrapped around him again but even with that beautiful smile, he couldn’t help but keep snickering when he saw that fake mustache above her lip.

“Well I mind when I have to look at it!” he said through his loud laughter as he turned to grab his phone off of the counter and look over to check that Dodger had plenty of water.

They headed out of the front door once Nat got a notification that their Uber was there, discreetly booked under her name. As they headed towards the driveway, they slipped face masks on, quiet once they got into the car. She made small talk with the driver for a few minutes as Chris stayed quiet, letting Tara know they were on their way and would be there soon.

The party was in full swing once they got there, with much of Chris’ longtime friend group in the open living space, laughing with drinks in hand while dressed in various full costumes. Once they stuck their masks in Nat’s bag, he started introducing Nat to everybody as Nick, one of his high school buddies, brought him a beer and offered Nat one as well. But it wasn’t long before Tara, the hostess and his longtime best friend, found them near the kitchen.

Nat was whispering something to Chris with a chuckle as Tara walked up to them, a large smile on her face as she said, “I finally get to meet the famous Nat.”

Nat glanced at Chris oddly, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. “I’m not sure that I want to know what I’m famous for,” she laughed as she shook her head.

Tara didn’t hesitate to reassure Nat, “Mostly for Chris never shutting up about you.”

“I left out the fact she has that mustache though,” he smirked, looking down at Nat with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes. “She’s a little self conscious about it.”

“He’s just jealous that mine is better than his ever was.”

Tara’s eyes widened as she took a sip of her drink, smirking as she agreed, “That last one he had was hideous.”

“And Nattie started dating me with that mustache so the joke’s on her,” Chris chuckled, smirking once Nat rolled her eyes.

“Yeah and I told you it had to be shaved before you came back into the country,” she muttered, but a faint smile appeared on her lips as his arm wound around her waist. He remembered the threat well, one that he’d made sure to follow before he even began packing up for his flight back to Massachusetts in July to get Dodger.

“I’m just glad I never had to see it in person,” Tara laughed as Chris rolled his eyes. After pausing to sip her drink again, she gestured to Chris and told him, “I like the Croc Dundee costume though, that’s so good!”

But at Nat’s huff of laughter, he knew she couldn’t help but interject her usual sarcasm, not one to skip out on the chance to embarrass him a little. “He just is using Halloween as a chance to be half-naked,” she informed Tara, squirming with a laugh as Chris’ hand squeezed her rear. “He wants to remind everyone he’s still ripped even though he’s old.”

He took a long sip from the bottle in his hand, shaking his head as he murmured, “Careful there Nattie, I seem to recall someone has a birthday soon.”

“Yeah to turn thirty-four,” she laughed just before she indulged in some of her drink, then reached to tuck a strand of curls behind her ear. Her eyes were moving over the party throughout the home before they returned to Chris and Tara. She met Chris’ eyes with a genuinely happy smile and he returned it, knowing how happy he was that she was here with his friends.

He shook his head as the women laughed, telling them, “You know, I’m really regretting bringing you to this party already.”

“What because then you can’t have all the spotlight and show off your muscles?” Nat asked as she bumped his hip with hers playfully.

He ignored Nat, but tightened his arm and brought her closer to him as he turned his attention to Tara, informing her, “Tara, I think we need to change this party and only allow people over forty in.”

But Tara’s brows furrowed and she frowned almost instantaneously, protesting, “No way, I like her!”

“See? You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Nat smirked, looking up at Chris with a mischievous expression. He rolled his eyes before he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she said, “Tara, can I ask where your bathroom is?”

Tara nodded, pointing to the hall near the back door, instructing Nat, “Yeah it’s right down the back hallway on the left.”

Nat leaned up to peck Chris’ lips and handed him her beer before she slipped out of his embrace and headed towards the bathroom. He watched her until she disappeared from sight, unaware of his grin until Tara laughed, shaking her head at the dopey look on his face.

“Okay I like her already,” Tara decided, taking a fresh drink from her husband, Will, as he passed by on his way to the living room.

The grin remained on Chris’ face as he nodded, telling her knowingly, “That’s pretty much a theme with Nat. Nobody can usually go more than five minutes without liking her.”

“I think she’s going to fit in with everyone really well. She certainly can hold her own and bust your chops,” Tara smiled, her voice dropping before she asked, “How did it go the other day with her meeting your family?”

“It went great, they all love her already,” Chris supplied. It truly had gone better than he’d imagined, with Nat fitting right into their chaos without missing a beat. He knew they’d grown up in both wildly similar and wildly different ways, with circumstances, locations, and styles, but it’d felt as if Nat had grown up alongside the family with how well she’d adjusted, in a matter of minutes, to their craziness. “Ma is crazy about her. I’ve never seen her like a girlfriend of mine this much before.”

“I think I can see why,” Tara assured him. She paused for a moment, her eyes studying Chris, before asking, “...You’re really happy, aren’t you?”

“God, I am Tara,” he confessed. He’d never gone much longer than a day without being so insanely happy it’d scared him since he and Nat had gotten together, minus the chaos of needing to clue Meghan into the PR storm. Nat made him happy. She made him feel safe, loved, and wanted, in a way he never had before. He missed her so much while he had been alone in Boston the last month that he’d come close to going back to Los Angeles several times. He never had that feeling before, the feeling that made him want to be somewhere he actively dreaded in any other circumstance. But Nat was there. Los Angeles was her base, and as long as she was anywhere, he’d follow her there.

“Nat seems like a special girl,” Tara mused, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“She’s more than that,” he admitted, shrugging as he pursed his lips. “She’s… my best friend.”

And those words that so easily came spilling out of his mouth almost surprised him. It was the first thing that had popped into his brain even though he’d never cognizantly thought about it, but hearing himself say it made him realize just how true it was. Nat had so effortlessly become his best friend in every sense of the word. Whether he was happy, tired, stressed out, or unsure about something, Nat was always the first one he turned to. She was his source of comfort, understanding, laughter, and wisdom and he knew that she was the only one he wanted to fill that spot in his life.

Those feelings were only solidified as the party was in full swing and Chris watched Nat easily fall in with his friends, most of whom he’d known almost his entire life. It wasn’t surprising to him to be able to see her so easily charm everyone, laughing and joking around with everyone as if they had known her just as long as him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already known just how hopelessly in love with Nat that he was, that was a fact that was painfully obvious to him almost constantly, but having her here with him in Boston was that last missing piece that sealed the deal for him. Seeing Nat finally meeting his family and friends and fitting in so easily only reminded him that she truly was the one for him. She was the girl he was starting to believe would only be true in his dreams, but here she was, and she was his.

October 31st, 2021

Chris glanced down at the display of the car as Nat changed the radio station, smiling faintly to himself at the happy look on her face. Getting to spend time with Nat in Boston had felt like heaven to him, but as her return flight to Los Angeles lingered over their heads, he knew their time together was coming to a close.

So far, her last full day with him in Massachusetts had been spent exploring his old stomping grounds, driving by the youth theater he so fondly remembered, his schools, and a few houses he grew up in before his mother moved into her current home. He showed her all over with a smile on his face as he recalled story after story full of laughter, Nat’s hand squeezing his thigh softly each time she fell into laughter as she got to hear each and every memory.

Once they’d returned to the house in the early afternoon, they had enjoyed the slow afternoon just eating lunch, walking Dodger and spent the rest of the time fully connected as they tangled in the sheets in his comfortable bed. It was growing darker as they laid together, Chris just loving the feeling of having Nat laying on top of him, his hands running up and down her bare back after they’d worn each other out for the second time, but their quiet moment was interrupted when he felt a rumble in her stomach.

Although they couldn’t seem to rouse themselves to life right away, eventually they made it into the shower so they could get ready for one meal together. Once they were both ready and Dodger was set to be alone for a few hours, they headed to the car and towards town, where Chris had booked a table at one of his favorite restaurants. They figured that given the discretion his hometown commonly gave him, along with the holiday tonight, they’d be able to fly relatively under the radar, and that was a risk he was willing to take at this point. He’d only been able to take Nattie out a couple times before, with them having spent most of their time in California in their own homes, and he wanted to go all out for her tonight.

He was navigating the car through the back roads as Nat’s phone buzzed in the cupholder. She hummed along to the song playing softly over the speakers, but soon she laughed loudly as she read the message.

“Alex just sent a text in the family group text announcing that she is still pregnant and not very happy about it,” she told Chris, unlocking her phone with a swipe of her thumb with a smirk on her face.

“I’m sure not,” Chris chuckled with a shake of his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he wondered, “Isn’t she a week overdue?”

“A week and a half,” Nat corrected as she finished typing on her phone and slid it into her bag. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her rest her head back against the headrest and look over at him as she said, “She’s so ready for that baby to come out.”

“Did they finally decide on a name?”

“They’re still deciding but I’m pretty sure it’s going to be Jack. That seems to be the one they keep coming back to,” she informed just as Chris pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. Their conversation halted for a long moment while they climbed out of the car, Chris locking it and sliding the key in his pocket before he tossed an arm around Nat’s shoulders as they walked toward the doors of the restaurant.

He couldn’t help but feel so happy as he felt Nat lean in against his frame while they walked, making him feel the need to press a soft kiss to the top of her head, just so content that he has his Nattie here with him. It felt so good to not be looking over his shoulder here, being able to just walk into one of his frequented restaurants with his arm around the girl that he loved and be tucked into a back corner table across from her. Chris knew he had an ear to ear smile on his face as he looked across the table at her, seeing those cute curls and sparkling eyes shining as she finished out her thought from the car and wistfully mused, “I can’t wait to get to hold that baby.”

“Do you think you’re going to fly up there once he’s born?” He asked as he took a sip from the water glass in front of her, eyes locked on Nat’s instead of the menu in front of him.

She frowned, glancing down at the menu resting in front of her before admitting, “I don’t think so. I really want to but with taking time off to come here and how much work we have, I just don’t think I can.”

“And you’re going to be back there in just a couple weeks for Thanksgiving,” Chris added with a nod. He felt bad that he indirectly made Nat unable to visit home, but he quickly pushed that guilt aside, knowing Nat would’ve spoken up – like she had in the beginning of the month – if she didn’t want to come in favor of seeing – what she had theorized – baby Jack in the next week.

“Exactly so it just makes sense to wait,” she agreed with a shrug, smiling as the waiter dropped off her glass of wine and his beer at the table. She took a sip of the glass of red before adding, “Besides, with Heather, my dad, and Alex’s in-law’s, there will be enough help the first few weeks without me.”

He smirked as he drank some of the beer, leaning back in his seat and telling her, “I have a feeling my phone is going to be blowing up that whole week you’re home with thousands of pictures of that baby.”

“Oh you know it will,” she assured him before she paused, shifting a bit in her seat. “But there was something I wanted to ask you about Thanksgiving…”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, his brows raising as his eyes locked onto hers curiously.

“Well, I wanted to see if you might like to come home with me for Thanksgiving,” she offered, a hopeful look on her face. She looked more tentative than she had in a long time, almost nervous. But he was able to quell those fears with his answer.

“Nattie, I’d love to,” he immediately said, knowing that it was true. He had already tossed around the idea of inviting her to come back here and spend Thanksgiving with his own family but had decided on forgoing that with Alex having her baby. Chris knew that there would be no way Nat would want to miss out on being around her brand new nephew and he certainly didn’t blame her. As much as he was bubbling with excitement over being invited to a holiday with her, he wanted to ask, “Is your family alright with that?”

“They’re actually the ones who brought it up,” Nat laughed softly while leaning back in the booth, her hands motioning back and forth as she explained, “I had wanted to invite you and was going to ask them, but Heather is the one who asked if I’d bring you.”

A hand came to rest on his chest as he honestly told her, “I’d be honored to come.” Chris felt his brain churning as he thought through his schedule for the next month, knowing he really only had a few ASP things to do before some reshoots in December and thought out loud, “I was planning on coming back to California for your birthday so maybe I’ll just stay and then we could go to Seattle the week after.”

“You won’t find me complaining about getting to have you longer,” Nat’s smile was shining as she gazed across the table at him, but their moment was briefly interrupted when a waiter came over. Both of them shared a soft laugh, realizing they had barely looked at the menu but each made a quick decision and put their order in, soon being alone once again.

Chris’ eyes flickered down when he saw Nat’s hand reaching across the table, opening up her palm and silently asking for his touch which he gladly gave as he put his hand in hers and held it gently as she looked at him with nothing but happiness on her face as she told him, “I’m so excited that you’re going to come.”

“I am too,” he honestly spoke before his mind started to drift at the one plan coming up that he hated she wasn’t part of, muttering, “I still wish you could come with me and my family to Disney World after Thanksgiving.”

He still hated looking at his calendar and seeing the trip that he looked forward to every single year with the people he loved most and knowing that she wasn’t going to be there. Chris wanted to have her there with him, sharing in that special memory but when they had talked it through a few weeks ago, both of them had admitted what they didn’t want to and that was the fact that it would be better if she didn’t go. Between having not met his entire family at that point, and knowing they’d have at least one person taking photos of them, it seemed like an illogical choice to have her come, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t still disappointed.

“I do too, but I think we made the right choice,” Nat nodded while tucking some of her curls behind her ear with her free hand as she went on, “Having that picture leak this past summer was stressful enough but at Disney World, we’re assured of having someone take our picture.”

“Yeah…” he trailed off with a sigh, just staring down at their intertwined hands as he shook his head. “I’m really sorry, Nat. I’m sorry that it is this way.”

Chris couldn’t help but feel guilty about it all. He loved being able to act, having a creative profession be his life, but sometimes he hated what came along with it and that it affected the people that he loved most. Sometimes he still found himself wishing that he could go on vacation, head to a baseball game, or out to a movie and have his arms around Nat without having to worry about someone sneaking a picture of them and the inevitable storm that would follow on the internet.

“It’s okay, Chris. It’s not your fault,” Nat’s hand squeezed his as she looked at him with resolve in her eyes, going on to reassure him, “And I want you to know that when it comes time that we need to be public, I’ll be okay.”

He knew it was true. He knew that Nat would be alright and that she could handle it, but he hated that she had to. Chris hated so much of what came with fame for himself, let alone what it brought to the people that he loved. Normally nearly six months into a relationship he wasn’t that worried about it yet, but with Nat it was different. He knew that this was going somewhere. This wasn’t some fling or passionate romance that would burn out. This was something special, but with that came the knowledge that this was going to affect her even more than it already had and he hung his head while acknowledging, “I just know that this isn’t what you want and I’m just sorry you have to deal with all of it just because you’re with me.”

“I guess you’re worth it,” Nat playfully joked with a soft squeeze to his hand, getting his attention and waiting for his eyes to meet hers before she continued, “But I mean it Chris, I will be okay when the time comes.”

“I promise I’ll handle it better than I did before.”

“We’ll handle it together,” she stated firmly before her tone softened, “For now I’m pretty content having it be just us, though.”

“Me too, Nattie,” his low voice rumbled before he gently lifted her hand to place a sweet kiss in the palm of her hand.

“I’m really going to miss you when I go back tonight,” she whispered, a sad smile on her face as she looked across the table at him. “This weekend has been so perfect.”

His shoulders slouched a bit in relief as he laughed to himself, shaking his head as he confessed, “I was really hoping that you’d like it here in Massachusetts.”

“I do like it here,” she assured him, then paused and surprised him as she admitted, “But I mostly like it because I love seeing you here.”

Chris’ brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what she was saying. He knew he lived almost two separate lives for the last two decades of his life – there was the Chris who spent most of the years working on sets and walking red carpets, then there was the Chris who grew up in Sudbury and loved being back home with his family, childhood friends, and his dog…. And now Nat. But still, he felt as though the lines had become blurred in the last few years, with work dropping steadily post-Marvel when he intended to take some time to relax after a busy few years, but then with the pandemic he spent more time back home in 2020 than ever intended. And he was happy then, don’t get him wrong, getting to be with his family nearly daily and no work upcoming, but he craved getting to spend his life with someone. He never anticipated that going to that morning meeting in February would set them on this path together, coincidentally during one of his busiest seasons in a long time, but 2021 had become the happiest year yet… and it was all because of spending so much time getting to know Nattie in Los Angeles. “What do you mean?” He asked her.

“I just love getting to see you be able to relax,” she murmured with a shrug, her eyes looking around for a moment before landing on him, a soft easy grin on her lips as Nat explained, “You’re just so… happy here.”

“I am happy here,” he easily agreed. He knew so much of being here and choosing to live in the area was because of the fond memories from his childhood and youth, but also because this is where his entire family was still based. They still came home for every holiday, every birthday, and event, and getting to have a close-knit circle still felt essential to Chris with all the chaos that came along with his career. But so much of those thoughts now centered on what it meant for him and Nat, what luxuries it provided him given the unspoken discretion and privacy the town provided him with. They wouldn’t have to worry about paparazzi lingering on every busy street corner, impeding on their privacy. “I love being able to run errands with my Ma and take Dodger out for walks and have my own home that actually feels like a home. But having you here made it even better because we finally were able to go to the grocery store, and out to breakfast or for drives without having to look over our shoulders. I love being able to just live my life with the people that I love here.”

Her smile grew into a pleased one, one that told him she understood every word. “I’m really happy that I get to be one of those people,” she whispered, squeezing his hand before she straightened up, the slightly-giddy expression remaining.

“I am too, Nattie. I love you so fucking much and seeing you here with my friends and my family only reminds me just how thankful I am to have you in my life,” he whispered, watching as her eyes grew damp at those words just as the waiter came by with their food.

They enjoyed their last few hours together, talking about Nat's recent invitation to be featured at an upcoming art show, and before Chris knew it, he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, watching Nat’s retreating figure as she headed into the departures terminal at Logan International alone, her suitcase rolling next to her. The entire drive home was spent in thought, even as Nat sent him texts and let him know when she got through security and made it to the gate. He missed her so much already, and as if it was possible, his home and town felt emptier without her presence. He knew she was it for him, and while that thought would have scared him this early on in any other relationship, it only made him more excited to get to see her in just nine short days.

A/N: We hope you enjoyed Boston just as much as they did! We can't wait to hear your thoughts ❤️

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kybelles · 3 months

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hi love! I'm feeling devious so for the choose violence asks, 24 and 25

HIII BABY 💞💞 i sincerely hope you don’t mind me answering everything via your ask 🥹 i just didn’t want to spam the tl with my non-stop posting!

1.the character everyone gets wrong

JOKASTE!!! 😩 sooo many times in fan creations she’s a mustache twirling villain and look i get it! she needs to go in order to lamen to be together but i don’t know why each time she needs to cheat on damen…. people can break up for other reasons yk…..

i feel like people don’t really get how much jokaste holds damen in such a high regard. the first time she talked to laurent she was full of praises for damen and yes although the majority of the reason was to taunt laurent, it was too heartfelt to be faked entirely. i find her a quite tragic character honestly. in another world she would be proud and happy to be to be damen’s queen 🙁 i wish more ppl cared about her OR stop portraying her as this cold unfeeling girlboss who was sooo sick of damen’s bs that she punished him by gleefully fucking kastor….. i really really don’t think that’s who she is. she loved damen in her own way. she was also a sentimental woman. (her last letter to damen will never make me not emotional….)

3.screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

SCREENSHOT OMG hats off to any brave soul who actually posts it….. also the collection on bad takes is so rich idk what to choose… ok i got one: so i genuinely don’t remember the details but a few years ago there was a post circulating about how laurent was actually Good All Along (yes even in book one where he drugged damen and then threw him into a rape ring and also had him whipped after intentionally setting him up 🙂 ) and it had so many likes…. i’ll never ever understand the need to whitewash book 1 laurent’s actions. like why do you even stan a controversial character if you don’t like his controversial aspects…. i really believe this is quite the disservice to such a multidimsensional character like laurent. :/

7.what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

hmm i wouldn’t say hate but some posts i read about auguste made me sorta dislike him 😬 idk when and where i read it but there was one post in particular that said they wish auguste would come back to life and beat the shit out of damen and i was like WOAHHH??? you want the mc (who you spent three books with) to be beaten brutally by some canon fodder?? for what crime??? i was honestly weirded out.

there’s also the fact that i genuinely HATE l*uguste (despite not being an anti shipper in general or anything! this ship just rubs me the worst way bc laurent experienced so much trauma from the way ppl made up incest rumors about him and auguste) so any interpretation (even if they aren’t written as a romantic pair intentionally) where auguste and laurent have this unhealthy codependent bond with auguste acting like a ferocious caveman to any potential romantic suitor of laurent and laurent being all meek and allowing this treatment is a big no for me. ✋ so yes even tho i don’t hate auggie boy i can’t say i care a great deal about him. sorry baby i’m sure you are just dandy.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

that damen is an unreliable narrator 😩i talked about it in my previous post!

12.the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

EGERIA THE MF QUEEN OF AKIELOS 🗣️🗣️ i actually like every member of the akielos trio (theomedes-hypermenestra-egeria) sm because their situation reminds me of turkish harem dramas. 🤭 the lack of canon information about them allows me to make various hcs and backstories and idk i just think it’s fun!

13.worst blorboficiation

JFC i’m SOOOO old i’m ANCIENT bc i have no idea what this means….. i’d be happy to answer it if you give me some clarification (hiding my face in shame)

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

oh luckily i already answered it here!

17.there should be more of this type of fic/art

I’m always a huge advocate for bottomianos even though i myself shamefully haven’t made a contribution 💔 as for art i’m beyond grateful for our wonderful artists and i humbly would like to see more of the old gang! (theo, egeria, aleron, hennike etc.)

21.part of canon you think is overhyped

hmm i unfortunately can’t think of an answer for this one, i’m sorry!

24.topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

OH DEAR… so one of the first times i actively participated in the fandom i made a post about how frustrating it was to see theomedes portrayed as an absent father despite the glaring lack of canon evidence while aleron got off the hook much easier despite laurent actually confirming he was an absentee and said i think it was about the way people perceive them (theomedes=brown and toxic, aleron=white and tastefully distant) anyways, some user whom i never talked to before (and they’re still blocked to this day despite the fact i pretty much never block anyone here) said i was “making it up” and right after i blocked them after they continued talking to me in a very rude manner some asks ✨mysteriously✨ appeared in my inbox and the person who sent them called me an “illiterature white bitch” who made up nonexistent drama…….. so yes i guess the colorism issue really ruffles some people’s feathers :) i wonder why :)

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

“why didn’t damen figure out the regent’s abuse of laurent sooner is he stupid” setting aside the 574619 different pacat interviews where she talks about how damen needed to be oblivious bc otherwise laurent would never open up to him, why is it so wild to think damen wouldn’t assume the regent would do something like that to his own nephew? as if the entire canon events didn’t happen bc damen believed families would never hurt each other…. just wow

#tysm to everyone who was kind enough to send me a number! 💞 this was honestly so fun #idk if a disclaimer is needed but i hope it's clear i didn't target anyone in particular!#these are just some of the takes i saw repeatedly #captive prince

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thefinalcinderella · 8 months

Text

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 4 - Old Friend (Part 1)

this chapter broke into my house and robbed me. this chapter punched me in my stomach and proceeded to kick me as i was down

anyways we meet Seiya's brother Gaku. Gaku seems to be a gnc person but is still referred to as Seiya's brother so i will be using he/him pronouns for him

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1-18. The explanations of the puns were so long that i decided to make a separate post for them. tbh you can just skip the puns and go all the way to the end of this section

Previous | Next

It was a certain day off.

The five boys of the Kazemai High School kyudo club gathered at Minato’s house. It was a study session to prepare for a regular exam, and since Minato’s father wasn’t at home because of work, they occupied the living room.

Seiya smiled.

“Ryouhei, if there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask me. I can help you with most of the liberal arts subjects.”

“Woo! I’m so glad that I have you, who’s at the top of our class, as my childhood friend.”

“I’m happy to be helpful to everyone.”

Nanao, hearing that, waved his mechanical pencil with a frog on it. There was also a pencil case with frogs in traditional Japanese design on the table.

“As expected of President Mustache. You really give off the composure of someone worthy of a mustache. Maybe I should have chosen science classes too, though it’s a bit late for that now.”

“Apparently, nowadays there are some universities where they don’t divide the courses into the sciences and liberal arts, but allow students to take both.”

“This is what they call the age of diversity. Our future is shining brightly. Exciting, sparkling!” Ryouhei also chimed in.

“Sparkling! This humble one is also excited!”

Next to them, Kaito put down his pen.

“You two! Those Yotubers’ ways of talking are rubbing off on you. Nanao, stop playing with frogs and focus on your problem set.”

“Yeah, yeah, Kacchan. Follow your own path.”

After checking on everyone, Minato went to the kitchen. He returned to the living room with a drink in hand.

Minato’s cup was purchased on the return trip from last year’s regional tournament, and it had the illustration of a dormouse on it. In his left hand, he held the dormouse mascot that Masa-san gave him. The dormouse was a small mouse that was a natural monument and also called the spirit of the forest and the guardian deity of the mountains. Masa-san gave him, who was suffering from target panic, the dormouse mascot in place of a talisman, but Minato had no way of knowing the prayer it contained.

When the five’s cups were emptied, the intercom sounded. When Minato looked through the camera, he saw a young woman standing there. “Hello?” he answered.

“Mii-chan, it’s me. It’s been a while.”

“Oh! I’m opening the door now.”

When Minato opened the door, the woman suddenly hugged him.

She was in her twenties. She was gorgeous and bewitching, but also cute—she was a superb beauty who made one feel that gap. She was dressed in a stylish outfit, and her straggling hairs fell gently.

The beautiful woman exclaimed in joy.

“Mii-chan, you smell as good as ever! Is it rosemary? It’s different from a vegetarian’s scent. The fact that you smell like this and don’t use antiperspirants or perfume is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Can’t you do something about that quirk of yours?”

“I feel so refreshed when I smell your scent, Mii-chan. ‘Mina-huffing’ is way better than cat huffing!”

Minato grimaced, looking fed up. Since he knew that the other person only looked slender in clothing and was actually a Jeet Kune Do master, Minato didn’t disobey her and stayed still. It was a martial art where the opponent was defeated within six seconds. He wouldn’t be able to stand a chance if he was hit in a vital spot.

“I’m studying right now.”

“Oh, that’s right. I came here for something else. Let me just come in for a minute.”

The woman left Minato and went into the living room without hesitation. She opened the door with a bang.

“Who’s that?” Just when Kaito muttered in his mind, Seiya shouted, “Onii-chan!”

Kaito let out a splutter.

Rather than the fact that the person who he thought was a woman was actually Seiya’s brother, he was more shocked by the fact that Seiya calling him “Onii-chan.” Seiya’s brother completely ignored the dumbfounded Kazemai High School kyudo club members and made a beeline for Seiya.

“Seiya, you completely ignored your phone even when I called you. I came back home after all this time, so keep me company for a little bit at least.”

“Why are you coming in all the way here, Onii-chan? You’re as restless as ever.”

“Can’t you be a little more affectionate towards your beloved brother? Something like, it’s been so long, I missed you, Nii-san!”

Seiya made no comment. His eyes were glassy.

“Ugh, you’re such a prickly kid. Everyone, sorry for interrupting your studying. Nice to meet you, I’m Seiya’s older brother, Takehaya Gaku. I do the branding for ‘Hanayoi,’ which promotes Japanese style merchandise. You over there, that frog pencil was also one of the things I had a hand in.”

“Whoa!” Nanao said. “I know Hanayoi. You did a collab with Yumihiki Douji recently.”

“You watched it? I’m so happy to hear that.”

Gaku sat down in front of the table.

“I’d feel bad about staying here for too long, so I’ll just tell you why I’m here. Everyone here should also listen. I chose the path I liked, so Dad wants Seiya to inherit the hospital. He says he wants Seiya to start preparing for that soon.”

“You’re talking about that again? And this isn’t something you talk about in front of everyone, you know? Onii-chan, you do what you want, and yet you expect to me to obey you.”

“Mom and Dad always respect our wishes. But in their hearts, they think that you’re suited to becoming a doctor. This is the countryside, so doctors are absolutely needed. They want you to contribute your service to the community. They won’t back down until you say yes.”

“There’s no point in using martial arts on me. I know your weak spots. It’ll be no trouble for me to defeat you.”

“Ugh, Seiya, how invincible are you? Well, it doesn’t matter. I plan on staying here for two or three days longer anyway.”

Gaku stood up, then stared at Nanao, who had been listening with his chin in his hands.

“…Magnificent. You’ve caught my eye since the moment I entered this room, but you’re so beautiful. How would you like to become our new brand image character?”

Gaku’s eyes roamed over Nanao’s figure, then he raised his hand and inhaled the scent deeply. Gaku’s sense of smell was unusually developed, and he was an eccentric who judged people based on their body odor. It was said that only one in five people could sniff out asparagus smell, which was the smell of urine after eating asparagus. He was one of them, and he was also a perfumer.

“Mm, mm, what a pleasant scent. It’s sweet, heartrending, and strong—. You fit the image perfectly. You’re the very picture of the crowned Frog Prince.”

“Hold on a minute, I can’t see what you’re talking about.”

“There is no one better suited for this role than you. This is a big project that will be expanded overseas. Don’t you think it’s a great opportunity?”

“No, no, no, the more skillfully someone speaks, the more I’m on guard.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. Please give me a reply in three days.”

After only saying what he wanted to say, Gaku left. In the calm after the storm, the five boys remained silent.

Ryouhei moved to break the silence.

“I was so surprised to see Seiya’s brother. He got even prettier than I remember. What will happen if Nanao takes on that job?”

“I’ll be okay, but it might be tough for Nanao to balance his thing with kyudo,” Seiya said.

“Huh!? Can’t you wait for a moment? Then I’m against it. You agree with me, right, Minato?”

“…I will respect the two’s wishes.”

“Huuuh!? Kaito-kun, you of course are also against it, right?”

“I dunno. It’s up to Seiya and Nanao.”

“What? Why aren’t you stopping them? Don’t you all want to stand on the same stage together again? We can only be high school second-years once! Well, you can be held back a year, though!”

Seiya opened the reference book on the table.

“Sorry, guys. My brother’s always like that. He throws everyone around him into confusion and immediately leaves. Nanao, you should think about it carefully before responding to him.”

With complicated feelings, the five boys faced the table again.

After the study session finished and everyone left, Nanao went to Kaito’s house.

He took two teacups in the kitchen and poured black tea, milk, and sugar into them. His brain needed sugar to work. He put the cups on a tray and went to Kaito’s room on the second floor.

“Hi, Kacchan. Today, I’m specially making this tea for you. Be thankful.”

“Yeah, yeah, Frog Prince.”

Nanao put the teacup on his desk and sat down on the bed. He flicked the frog-shaped clock by his side with his finger. The second hand was moving as usual.

“Kacchan, what do you really think about what Gaku-san talked about earlier?”

“I already said that I don’t know.”

“You didn’t put a stop to it this time.”

“Hah? Did something like that happen? If I say anything, your judgment might be affected, so I kept quiet.”

“You could have at least given your cousin some advice. What a useless man.”

“Shut up. Neither you or Seiya are little kids anymore. It’s the truth that by the summer vacation of your second year in high school, you have to decide on your career path to some extent.”

“That’s so early. I feel I only just entered high school.”

Seiya was also faced with the dilemma of choosing his career. Kaito was probably feeling nervous on the inside. Even Minato should be wondering whether he should encourage or discourage him.

Kaito got his phone out and started playing a game. Lately, he had been absorbed in a city building game. He had built a kyudojo, a library, and a concert venue just for Japanese rock. Once, he had cried tears of gratitude when the avatars of the bands he liked in the real world performed there.

Lucy the cat rubbed against Kaito’s back and showed her belly. Kaito petted Lucy without looking away from his game, and Lucy kicked him as though to tell him to look at her.

Nanao remembered when he and Kaito visited Tokyo together in middle school.

Kaito had let out a big yawn.

“Ah, this is such a pain. I only care about kyudojos and kyudo stores. Are there any nearby?”

“Don’t say that, Kacchan. Let’s take the classic course first.”

He stuffed his mouth with crepes and peered into a store where everyone was lined up. At the storefront where accessories were arranged next to each other, he could see a man giving out rings as a gift.

It was fun to walk around the city. The place where they lived was surrounded by mountains, but this place was full of man-made object and people. It was a stimulating and lively space.

A little further away, there was a man running through the crowd.

“Why is that guy running?”

“Who knows, maybe he forgot something.”

As they were talking, the man quickly approached them and handed him his business card. The name of an agency was printed on the front, and the names of the talents affiliated with the agency were printed on the back.

Talent scouts really did exist. He thought it was an urban legend.

Kaito’s eyes flashed in their usual way. From his point of view, the person approaching Nanao was nothing but a suspicious person who deserved to be guarded against.

“Sorry, we’re in a hurry,” they declined and started walking away.

As they continued on their way, eating snacks, someone called out to them again. Nanao didn’t know if it was a scout or someone trying to pick him up, but he completely ignored them. However, some people were persistent and would stubbornly keep talking to him. Thanks to that, they walked faster and faster.

“Hey, hey, you over there. You’re a shining diamond in the rough. Could please just listen to what I have to say?”

“If you put it like that, I might be a little interested.”

“Tell the kid next to you to consider it too. I really think he’s got what it takes. Getting famous with videos is fine and all, but I recommend that you join an agency that can manage you properly.”

“No, thank you,” Kaito answered.

“Why don’t you join with him, then? I think a combination of two different types is also a good idea.”

“…”

“You might have to pay for the lessons, but we also have plans that are better than other agencies.”

“Shut up! This guy won’t leave our hometown!” Kaito shouted and grabbed Nanao’s hand, then started running.

Masquerade.

This was a city where you could meet a different version of yourself.

A doll-like girl spinning on a music box and a man holding a fake sword studded with sequins. Were the woodwind instruments being played foreign? Many boats floated on the meandering river, and the two went against the current. Was this really reality? His feet felt unsteady.

“Let’s leave this place quickly. There’s too many people and we’ll keep getting bothered.”

“You’re right.”

The sounds of people bustling about was comfortable.

Kacchan said that there were too many people here, but everyone was nose-deep in their phones and no one’s looking around. No one’s paying attention to us. No one knows who we are.

I will protect Kacchan. In this city, he’s the only who knows me, and I’m the only one who knows him.

I will never forget Kacchan gripping my hand.

It seems like he forgot about it, though.

That’s fine. This is a memory that only I remember.

“Kacchan, I wanna eat chips. Go and buy some.”

“What, go buy it yourself. I think we have some downstairs.”

“Can I eat them?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

When Nanao got up, Lucy let out a small meow.

After the study session, Seiya and Minato watched Ryouhei leave until they could no longer see him.

“Minato, I’m going to go shampoo Kuma. Wanna come?” Seiya said.

“Of course!”

Minato went to Seiya’s house. He rolled up his sleeves, took off his socks, and Kuma, who realized what was going to happen, ran around excitedly. When Kuma was still a puppy, just getting him to soak his paws in the bathtub full of hot water was a difficult task, but now it was one of his favorite times. They wetted his fur in the shower and lathered up the dog shampoo.

“Kuma, doesn’t that feel good? Do you feel itchy anywhere?”

Kuma tilted his head left as though to say, “Here,” so they focused on that area. As they were rinsing off the later with the shower, Kuma shook his whole body.

“Kuma, don’t shake!”

“Kuma seems to be in high spirits,” Seiya said.

While they were shampooing Kuma, they saw a gecko on the windowpane of the bath. It had a light pink belly and the base of its tail was heart-shaped. The edges of its five tiny fingers were transparent and beautiful. It didn’t so much as twitch even when Minato touched it through the glass. He once saw one in his own house, and he had captured it and let it go outside. The gecko was still clinging to the window even after they finished shampooing Kuma.

Seiya’s brows lowered when he saw Kuma leaning against Minato as he wiped his wet body.

“Kuma, you sure are making a nice face. Even though I’m your master.”

“Kuma likes people.”

The two and Kuma went out for a walk. As they walked toward the red sun, the indigo sunset approached from behind. The first star of the evening shined in the evening sky, and it matched the speed of the two boys and dog. When they stopped, the star also stopped. The large yellow moon shined on the horizon.

On the roadside, bees gathered by the fleabanes, and butterflies gathered by the milk thistles. A loud chorus of frogs could be heard from the rice fields that had just been filled with water. There were also baby praying mantises in the purple thistles, shortawn foxtails, and ixeris flowers. Though their bodies were only one centimeter long, they were vibrating them like adults. They seemed to be imitating the appearance of swaying leaves, but it was said that only two percent of two hundred eggs could grow into adults. Minato sent thoughts of encouragement for everyone to survive safely.

Minato patted Kuma on the head.

“It seems that there is a family of wild rabbits living in Shuu’s garden. At first, when we saw each other, they would run away like rabbits do, but lately, they are the ones who have been approaching me.”

“With that house, I’m not surprised about anything that lives there.”

“To tell you the truth, I once asked your dad a question. I asked him, aren’t you worried about Seiya quitting Kirisaki? Is there anything I can do?”

“…No way, really?”

“He told me, ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Worrying would mean that I don’t believe in Seiya’s strength. Both Seiya and his brother are people who don’t see hardships as hardships and can blaze a trail forward.’”

“Dad said something like that? I didn’t know.”

“You have a great dad. He’s really cool.”

“Yeah, he is, thanks. My brother’s a weirdo, though.”

“Kuma’s cute too.”

“My brother isn’t cute, and I don’t listen to what he says.”

“Brothers, huh. I’m a bit jealous.”

Minato looked up at the sky. The full moon was changing from yellow to silver.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”

“…Yeah, it really is. Minato, do you know the anecdote about Soseki Natsume?”

“The one where he had a habit of pulling out his nose hairs when he got writer’s block and line them up on his manuscript paper?”

“That’s what came to your mind? It’s the one where he said that when Japanese people convey their love, they don’t say ‘I love you,’ but use another way to express it.”

“Sorry, I don’t know that one.”

“You and Kaito really don’t waver, huh.”

“What will Nanao do? Kaito was clearly shaken.”

“The two of them are probably discussing things right now. It might be something that’s hard to talk about in front of us.”

“You’re right. Oh, I saw two dormice in that tree hollow ahead. You wanna go see them?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The two boys and dog went to the woods. When they went into the woods, Kuma took the vanguard position, probably with the determination to protect his masters.

When the wind shook the leaves, white-tailed skimmers spread their wings.

The wind blew through the blue yamichi of Kazemai High School’s kyudojo.

After the prefectural tournament qualifiers, the club members headed toward the targets as they pleased. Not thinking about unnecessary things and simply releasing arrows with all your strength was also a pleasant feeling. They surrendered themselves and rode the updraft.

When they generally finished shooting their arrows, the signal to gather was given.

“Today, we’ll be having a special class today. Let’s warm up before inviting our speaker. First question, what day is September tenth?”

Ryouhei immediately raised his hand.

“It’s Kyudo Day!”

“Correct. Now, the second question. Does anyone what day is August tenth, a month before that?”

“Yep, yep, it’s Masa-san’s birthday!”

Kaito turned to Minato and grinned triumphantly. Masa-san smiled in embarrassment.

Tommy-sensei continued. “Third question. What day is September first?”

“The questions suddenly got harder. Seiya, do you know?” Minato said.

“Hmm, is it famous?”

“Oh? Takehaya-kun not knowing something is surprising. Let’s get into the main topic. Self-possession is necessary for kyudo. Learn the best techniques to stay calm in any situation. That’s right, it’s all about words, it’s about how you perceive events positively through words. Here comes the specialists. Come on, everybody!”

The ones who appeared at Tommy-sensei’s signal were two elderly men. Question marks popped up over everyone’s heads.

“These two are acquaintances of mine. They are alumni of the ‘Kazemai High School Bad Puns Association.’”

Seiya’s glasses flashed. Kaito had a bad feeling.

The class began.

“Bad puns are things that have ‘creativity and impact,’ and enriches communication between people. We take advantage of the infinite ‘attraction’ of puns, and our wish that bad puns will bring color and richness to life and delivers salvation to the world is embedded in September first.”*

“…I can already sense that this is going to be a disaster.”

Kaito was in agony, but Seiya straightened up even more and listened attentively.

“A barrage of dad jokes that follow up on each other. This is indeed ‘jab-jab’ humor, Kacchan.”*

“Na-na-o, not you too!”

As the cousins’ comedy routine unfolded, practical training began. First, they were asked to tell the bad puns they already knew.

Keyaki went first. “The principal’s in good form!”*

Kanbayashi went second. “The dog’s so nervous that it’s wetting itself.”*

Himuro went third. “Suki kuu mushi mo tadetade.”*

Everyone’s eyes widened at the fact that Himuro spoke, but only Seiya sighed by himself.

“It’s no good, first-years. You can’t just say such excellent bad puns.”

Keyaki shrank back.

“What exactly is an excellent bad pun…? It’s too difficult for amateurs. I feel like successfully pulling off a bad pun is more difficult than the path of the bow for me.”

“First, we must learn the classics. I’ll give you some examples. ‘6:30 is the best time on a clock, hands down.’ ‘Thanks for being so grape!’ ‘Camping: like many of the best things in life, it’s tree.’”*

The two teachers applauded.

“Wonderful! As expected of the club president, you have a very good understanding of this. Oh, you over there, you say a pun too.”

“Me too?” Masa-san said.

“Of course. To us, you’re also a Kazemai kid, Coach Takigawa.”

“Then if I may be so presumptuous, I will contribute one pun. ‘My back is kaino at kai.’”*

Seiya inadvertently laughed, but then made his face serious in an effort to hide that he laughed.

“Recreation is a form of communication and relaxation that’s also used in free schools, and it is also a way to train people to think in a way that softens their stiffened heads. Now, we pros will show you how it’s done.”

“What kind of sport is kyudo? The kind of sport that makes your chest squeeze tightly and impresses the people around.” “If you draw a bow in Yamagata, your arrows will bend.” “Ah, I hit the inside of the curtain.” “Hakama wa hakanma.” “What are yuu going to the kyudojo for?” “I get angry when I don’t do the uchiokoshi well.” “When I do uchiokoshi, you go to the front.” “Let’s have a third party look at our daisan.” “Ya o hanatsu to yugaeru kero.” “Zan, shin!!”*

Kaito quickly stood up.

“They’re cold, they’re too cold! Are we in Siberia or Alaska or something!?”

Unable to endure it any longer, he left.

Tommy-sensei chuckled. “…Good reaction, Onogi-kun.”

Before they went home, they received a large amount of broad beans from the teachers, who had grown them in their home gardens.

“Hey, hey, what are you going to do about Seiya’s brother, Gaku-san’s offer?” Ryouhei asked Nanao.

“Oh, I think I’m going to turn him down on that day.”

Kaito’s face relaxed.

“You’re giving your answer too early. You might regret it later that you should have accepted it.”

“I won’t regret it, and even if I do in the future, so be it. I’ll consider it again at that time. The current me has decided not to do it. My dream has already been fulfilled. I wanted to become a normal high school student.”

“A normal high school student?”

“Don’t you think it’s amazing? Frogs and birds risk their lives to get food every day, but we normally eat our lunches in our classrooms, normally make side trips on our way home from school, and normally groan about bad test scores.”

“Is Nanao really a high school boy? You have a pretty philosophical view of things,” Seiya murmured.*

The second-year girl, Hanazawa, writhed in agony. “Takehaya-kun, don’t just smoothly insert an old man joke here.”

“The only old man we need is Takigawa=san,” Shiragiku said.

“Putting aside the fact that our club has a high concentration of old men, I don’t know how a guy with a fan club could be called normal,” Seo continued.

“That isn’t something I wanted, but I’ll properly fulfill the role given to me. I don’t want to disappoint the girls who love me.”

“Wow, you’re like a real prince.”

When Ryouhei looked at him with eyes full of respect, Nanao gently lowered his eyes. If the fan club girls were here, they might have fainted on the spot.

When he opened his eyes, a strong gaze appeared there.

“I want to become a carpenter. I want to start with design. Kacchan, let me build your house.”

Kaito’s eyes widened.

“This is the first time I’m hearing of it.”

“Of course it is. Because it’s the first time I told someone. Before I came here, I asked the teacher to let me switch from the humanities to the sciences.”

“That was fast! I didn’t know you could change it.”

“First, I want to build a round wooden frog house in a green forest. The eyes will be the windows, where you can see the starry sky through them at night. The Summer Triangle of summer and Orion of winter. It’ll be amazing to gaze at them while lying down on the floor with everyone. Right now, I’m researching the costs.”

“You’re really moving too fast. Where are us students gonna get that money from?”

“It’s not about whether you can or can’t do it, it’s about envisioning it first. I don’t think it’s that difficult.”

The first-years applauded.

“As expected of Kisaragi-senpai’s super positive thinking. He has a dream!” Kanbayashi said.

“I will try thinking about what I really want to do,” Keyaki said.

“I want to continue doing kyudo even after I graduate. Have you decided on what you’re going to do, Narumiya-senpai? Are you going to go to a university with a strong kyudo club?”

Minato looked indifferent.

“All I thought was that I should probably go to university. On the career preference questionnaire, I thought about my family finances and wrote down the names of several universities I was interested in, including a local public university, a department where I could study Japanese culture, a university with a Shinto course, and an agriculture department.”

Seiya pinched the corner of his eyes. “Our teacher is probably very confused, thinking that Narumiya-kun is supposed to be in the sciences.”

“I’m interested in what Shinto priests do, but I don’t know if I want to do it as a job… To be honest, I’m at a loss.”

Tommy-sensei, who had been silently listening to them, laughed out loud. Masa-san was also next to him.

“Ah, the worries of vibrant youth. Try talking to yourself, not others. It might be a good idea to try drawing a mandala chart. By the way, the goals I set when I was fifty were to walk eight-thousand steps every day, learn the names of flowers and plants, and take pictures of clouds. Please look at my work.”

Tommy-sensei showed them pictures of clouds in the shape of soft-served ice cream, candy, and dried squid. He told them that they weren’t edited images, but actually floating in the sky.

Ryouhei’s eyes sparkled.

“What’s that, it looks tasty!”

“Ho ho, there’s Pucky here too. And even a Koala’s Dash.”*

“Whoa, I wanna try searching too! Nee-chan, Shuu-kun, and Sae-chan would definitely love it if I show this to them.”

It seemed that Tommy-sensei taught them a simple game once again. Minato thought that the people who could laugh at bad puns and were curious no matter how old they were might be the masters of life.

When Seiya returned home, he told his parents this.

“I’m going to be a doctor. But right now, kyudo is my top priority, so I might become a ronin.* Mom, Dad, will you still support me?”

“Yes, of course we will.”

“Do your best, Seiya-kun.”

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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lost-walmartbag · 7 months

Text

Stan x reader s2 pt 6

Warning: Drinking, swearing

Background: Late night kitchen talk with Kyle

Status: Ongoing

Previous part

Next part

More than happy

Kyle came back after you put Sarah to bed. It was weird. As you were stepping out of Sarah's room and quietly closed her door you saw Kyle doing the same with the front door. You both looked guilty, the kind of guilty that you know you don't want answers to. At least not yet, not while you have the same look.

"Wine?" He said with a crooked smile.

"Yeah." You said walking to the kitchen with Kyle trailing behind you.

You two stayed in that silence for a bit as you opened a cheap bottle of wine you and Kyle only had when you needed to get drunk. Kyle pulled out the glasses, not that they were made of actual glass. They were plastic and for some reason detachable in three different places.

You and Kyle got them from a yard sale from an old woman down the block. They were one of those glasses where one said 'Mrs.' with a kiss next to it, while the glass that was dedicated to Kyle read 'Mr.' with a mustache next to it.

As you poured the wine your hands had other plans as they couldn't stop shaking and you spilled some on the counter.

"Fuck." You muttered.

Kyle came up from behind you and put his hands on yours. He stabilized you as you tried to pour the wine again. He was warm. He always was. You hated how much you loved his warmth, how much you could see yourself craving it at night. And how he would happily give it to you if you would ask.

"Hard night?" He whispered, his breath hitting your ear.

"Yeah...Sarah asked where you were." You said putting down the wine bottle.

"I'm sorry. I tried getting here as fast as I could. Think I should give her a kiss goodnight?" He asked, still maintaining his closeness.

"Yeah, but try not to wake her up. She's been asking a lot of questions." You whispered, knowing that because he was so close he could hear the shakiness in your voice if you spoke normally.

"I'll be right back then." He whispered, finally pulling back.

You stare down at the cheap wine in your glass. You couldn't watch as Kyle left, it hurt too much. He was perfect. Stable. Really you could see yourself loving him for the rest of your life.

And you did love him. More than you can put into words. You knew he loved you. I mean what kind of man raises a kid he knows isn't his for four years without loving you even a little?

He takes care of Sarah. He takes care of you. He's a good man. A better man. Better than you think you deserve. Especially when every time you're with him you can't help but think of Stan.

You love Kyle. But you love Stan. And it was different. Stan was the kind of love that wouldn't leave you standing by the time it finished. You don't know if that's what Kyle would be because you can't see his love ever ending.

"She is out cold," Kyle said with a chuckle as he walked back over, starling you out of your thoughts.

"Yeah...I don't even know how long she managed to stay up." You said taking a sip of your wine.

"He's doing pretty rough." He said after taking a sip of his own wine.

You bit your lip. You didn't think he'd bring Stan up so soon. At least not while you were still sober. You gulp down some more wine before putting your now empty glass down. You stared at the small drops of wine in the bottom of the glass, not wanting to meet Kyle's eyes.

"Was he okay at least?"

"As good as he could be. He was drunk."

"I figured." You said with a sigh. "What do I do Kyle?"

"You know I can't tell you, Y/N." He said putting his hand on your shoulder.

"Why not? You're so much smarter than me. Figure this out for me. Tell me what to do." You said putting your face in your hands.

Kyle sighs and pulls you into a hug. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you against him. He smelled like pine and sandalwood. His hand gently stroked your hair as he put his face on the top of your head.

"I can't imagine what you're going through right now." He whispered as he gently swayed. "But I know you'll get through it."

"How do you know that?" You whispered as you buried your face in his chest.

"Because you're impulsive."

"Gee, thanks." You muttered.

"It's a good thing. It means you're strong. Because even though all this shit is happening to you, you're still standing. And you're trying to think about what to do and that's why it's not working." He said pulling away just enough to see your face. His hands moved from your back to cup your cheeks. "You don't like to think things through before you do them. You just do."

"But this doesn't just affect me anymore. It affects Sarah. I can't do something without thinking it through anymore." You said closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

"When have you ever thought anything out even with Sarah?" He said with a chuckle. "You hand her without a second thought, you still went to college even while you were pregnant, you kicked a kid when he pulled Sarah's hair last month."

"He had it coming."

He laughed and smiled down at you. "He did, but if you had thought about it for even a second you wouldn't have done that. It always works out because you love Sarah and that always overrides anything else going on in your head."

"But this is different." You protest looking up into his eyes.

"Why? Because you love him?" He asked, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

"Yes! That is exactly why!" You said leaning your head back in frustration. "I loved him in high school and got pregnant. I loved him and he left me. I love him and every day it fucking kills me."

"Y/N this isn't about you loving him. This is about you loving Sarah. If you never want to see him again...he would go back to wherever he was even if it killed him." He said, dropping his hands from your face. but leaving the warmth they gave you.

"I want Sarah to have her dad in her life. I always wanted that...but I feel like if I do something about it...it's like telling you, you aren't doing enough." You said as you watched the small smile on his face drop.

"Are you saying this is hard to do because of me?"

"Of course it is! You could have gone to fucking Princeton, you could have had a fiance by now, a life outside of living in this shitty apartment, sleeping on the couch so Sarah and I can have our own rooms, staying up with me at night when she's sick because you know how scared I am, calling out of work so you can go to her school events!" You rambled. When you finally stop talking you see Kyle just staring at you like you had two heads. Your chest rising and falling rapidly staring back at him.

"I do all that because I love you both."

"That's the problem. I hold you back. I stop you from being happy." You said, choking on a sob as tears filled your eyes.

"You think I'm not happy?" He asked, glaring down at you in anger. His pale cheeks painted red and his lips pulled to a thin line. "You think that every day when I get to see Sarah growing up and laughing, that I'm not happy? You think that every year when you and I stay up baking a cake for her birthday, that I'm not happy? You think that every single fucking night when I get to kiss her good night, when I get to hear you snoring in your bed, when I lay on that shitty pull-out couch and thank whatever fucking god that put me here for giving me the fucking chance to be in your lives, that I'm not happy?"

He scoffs and shakes his head. He takes a step back and runs a hand through his red curls, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before he can meet your eyes again.

"I'm more than fucking happy Y/N." He said putting a gentle hand on your cheek and wiping away your tears. "Even when I'm in this kitchen telling you how fucking stupid you are as you cry because you think 'you're holding me back'. Even when you stand here and tell me you love another man while his daughter whom I have raised sleeps in another room. I'm still fucking happy."

You stared at him. Processing each and every syllable that escapes his lips. His chest is rising and falling like yours had. You knew he loved you, you knew you loved him. But you always thought that love was different from what other people mean when they say 'I love you'.

Wasn't it?

"Kyle I love you but-"

"I know. I know it's different. I'm ok with that." He said pulling away from you. "There was a time when I hated the thought that you didn't love me back but I realize it's not the way I thought. The way I love you is timeless. And that's what I want it to be."

"But you can't possibly be ha-"

"God you're so stupid." He said kissing your forehead. "I'm happy and I always will be. Y/N we aren't meant for each other but you're still my soulmate. I wish I could love you the way you love Stan but I don't. I love you in a different way the way you love me."

"So not romantically?" You ask looking into his eyes.

"Conceded much?" He said with a smirk

"Bitchy much?" You retort

"Ouch." He said with a chuckle. "But no. I can see myself loving you like that, but even with the years we have together, I don't love you romantically. Love isn't a waiting game. Love is simple but complicated."

"Like with Stan?"

"Like with Stan." He said gently stroking your cheek.

You nod and smile softly because, since the first time since this started, you were okay with not knowing what to do.

A/N: Heyyyy. Yeah so anyway hope ya'll liked this 😋 thank you for reading bye bye love yall 🩵

Taglist: @jessiegerl

#south park #south park x reader #fanfic #south park x you #x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #stan marsh x reader

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unrealwasteland · 11 months

Text

Roosmav fic recs: G and T rated

Explicit fics get a lot of love in this fandom, but there are also many amazing fics with lower ratings, and I made this rec list to highlight some of my favorites. As always, I'm trying to include a little positive note on each fic, and I hope it doesn't get too repetitive because there are only so many ways to say I absolutely loved something.

No archive warnings apply to any of these fics.

live with me forever now by apfelhalm 700 words, G, no archive warnings apply magical realism

"Wow", Mav chuckles, "65, can you believe that?" "You don't look a day older than 60," Rooster says, but what he really thinks is: 50, more like. His own temples and mustache have been starting to turn grey a couple of years ago, but Mav's hair is still jetblack. Maverick may or may not be immortal.

This is a wonderful little ficlet. Technically an AU, but it definitely feels like it could be canon.

out in the wide open plane by Lacerta 3k, G, no archive warnings apply canon divergence: aircraft mechanic Bradley, accidental confession, reconciliation

He didn’t expect they’d run into each other, not like this, not here, in the middle of nowhere in the Mojave Desert. One reason why he took this post in the first place was the luxury of not working with hotheaded fighter pilots. The main appeal is still the birds, of course – the state of the art jets, fastest to ever exist. From the day he joined his first aeronautics class, Bradley knew working on cutting-edge aircrafts was his real dream come true. He should’ve known Maverick would be enticed by their allure, too. * When Bradley talks to himself in the empty hangar, he's sure Darkstar is the only one listening to his confession.

This is very beautifully written. The accidental confession scene means the world to me.

half of my heart by plingo_kat 4k, T, no archive warnings apply post-canon, getting together

As a kid, Mav always seemed larger than life. Whenever Bradley would see him he’d always have a new story, some cool activity to do, be appearing at the door with a kiss on the cheek for his mother and slinging his leather jacket onto an only lightly occupied coat hook along the hall. And during the mission training, he’d flown circles around the best pilots Rooster knew, himself included. It was only after they’d been released from medical, poked and prodded and provided with various compression braces and pills, that he gets to learn Mav the man: someone who lives alone in the desert and likes it, who can be the life of the party but can also spend days saying nothing at all except the occasional soft endearment to his machines.

Lovely and really well written. I adore the characterizations in this one.

Blood is thicker than water, but blood is even stronger by Fuddlewuddle 1.5k, T, no archive warnings apply post-canon, fluff, sharing a bed

Mav and Bradley are at a hotel and have to share a bed. It's everything Bradley wants but not sure he's allowed to have.

This is super sweet. Lovely take on the "only one bed" trope.

the first four knuckles by thekookster 6.5k, T, no archive warnings apply background relationships, pov outsider, character study

eighteen, twenty-two, twenty-five, twenty-nine, thirty-three— and the question remains: who is Bradley Bradshaw, really?

This is an incredibly well written Bradley-centric fic. The last chapter especially is a work of art.

some bunny to love by notyourwinter 4k, T, no archive warnings apply shapeshifter au, crack treated seriously

He'd asked his mother once, when he was a kid, why it felt so much easier to be a rabbit sometimes, rather than human, and she hadn't had an answer. She just gathered him up in her arms and said, "I know it's hard to be different, sweetheart. But you're my Bradley bun, and I love you." It's Top Gun: Maverick, except sometimes Rooster is a bunny.

Amazing take on such a cracky premise. This is cute and fun and I highly recommend reading it.

The next 3 fics have been included on my previous rec lists, but they deserve to get mentioned again:

Coffee Corner by Brenda 4.5k, T, no archive warnings apply coffee shop au, fluff and humor

"Wow." Bradley's future husband frowns — very attractively — as he grabs an apron and puts it on, deftly tying it in the back. "Wow?" "Shit, did I say...sorry." Bradley wants to sink right into the ground. "I'm not...you're real, right?" Because Bradley's pretty sure he's still asleep and having the best dream of his life.

The 'fluff and humor' tag is on point – this is a really fun and heartwarming fic.

I can't promise you anything, but I can tell you I'll never leave by othersideofthis 6.5k, T, no archive warnings apply western au

“Didn’t think you’d show your face around here again,” is the first thing Pete says when Rooster turns up at the ranch. Not “hello,” not “how you doing.” Not “don’t you know it’s been 15 years and I’ve thought about you every day.” No.

I love western AUs and this is really good. Perfect example of how to include canon elements in an AU setting.

can't start a fire without a spark by hazelmotes 5.5k, T, no archive warnings apply 5+1 things, crack treated seriously

Five times the people around Maverick and Rooster thought what is with these two? and one time they didn't have to. In which there is scheming, reminiscing, wagers, long-suffering sighs, sex toys, and Springsteen. Always, always Springsteen.

This fic was a lot of fun to read, and the different POVs in this are super well written.

#roosmav #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #fic rec #rsmv recs #i've wanted to make a rec list like this for like 6 months now #but i'm glad i didn't get to it earlier because there have been a lot of great sfw fics written in the past couple of months #seriously these are all SO GOOD

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bubblepopsims · 6 months

Text

Ruby was hard in the zone of her workout, grinding to the sounds of music filling the empty space of the studio. Everything was just perfect, she was alone and all her mind was on the upcoming fight. Just until..... Josiah: "siiiiisssssstttteeerrrrrrr! oh wow.. its quite empty in here today." Ruby let out a groan as you could hear her mental concentration just break right down the middle at her little brother.

Josiah approached with a unusual pep in his step and stood a couple of feet behind Ruby. Ruby: "we are closed today. What do you want kid?" Josiah: “hey sis, do you have an answer for me yet?”

Ruby: “huffs and puffs can’t you.. aggh see I am busy right now?” Josiah: “yeah but it’s in a couple of weeks and I need to let them know if I am bringing a plus one.”

Ruby sighed, she was dreading this conversation ever since he was back in town with an invitation to Izzi's wedding. She knew she wasn't getting out of this conversation and took her gloves off dropping them to the floor just to turn and face her eager brother.

Ruby: “Josiah…. I don’t…. I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s been over 6 years since I last saw them.. and well as you can see I am still dealing.” Josiah: “I get that. But it’s time and you know this. You miss them can't you just admit that.”

Ruby: “no. I cant.” Josiah: “you are hopeless.” Ruby: “and you are a pain in my ass….” she stated with a hint of defeat in her voice. slowly approaching her brother for a well-needed hug. as usual Josiah didn't mind that she stunk nor was drenched in sweat. He knew how Ruby felt, and since he told her about the wedding her mood as drastically switched to defensive.

Josiah: “So is that a yes?” Ruby: “Will it make you leave?” Josiah laughed and kissed the side of her head "maybeeeee" the two chuckled only to hear the sounds of a car engine shutting off. Josiah: "Expecting company?" Ruby sighed and then hummed thoughtfully before groaning lightly. Ruby: "fuck me it's Tobias." Josiah: "Don't want to see him?" Ruby shook her head against her brother's chest and sighed. Quite frankly Tobias was the last person she wanted to see. Everything has been spiraling out of control. He was starting to get to close to her, Tobias has been her friend since she returned from being overseas. At the time he was working at a shit bar and the two kicked it off. He supported her pursuit of becoming a cage fighter and she supported him on becoming a (now well-known) Tattoo artist. Things were good... He was quite frankly her best friend besides her brother. But than something happened, it was a night out after her championship win, and everyone was celebrating and having a good time. Ruby found him quite cute that night, the way he brushed his hair out of his face or twisted the ends of his mustache. So she went for it, kissed him right outside the bar, and from then on they decided to add a sexual benefit to their friendship. He already had her one way.. she couldn't allow him to have that part of her too.

Previous-Next

#ts4 simblr #ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #ts4 gameplay #the tribe #sims 4 #oc: ruby #oc:josiah

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howlingday · 2 years

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"Why is it always the big ones?"

Jaune chuckled as he watched Spruce Willow deliver his line with perfection. "Invasion on Another World" was a smash hit at the box office earlier in the year, and he was glad to be rewatching it in his living room with his girlfriend. He was enthralled seeing for the second time.

Nora, not so much. For her, the action scenes paled compared to her real life, while the romantic subplot was so cheesy and forced, it might as well have been smashed into her popcorn, and the villain's motive was so obviously influenced by current event, that if you slapped a mustache on him, you could point out at least four different real world people.

But it would all be worth it, because tonight was the night. She could feel it in her bones. It didn't work the last few dates, but it would be different this time. Tonight, Nora was getting laid.

Nora leaned into Jaune, and felt him place an arm around her shoulder. Smiling to herself, she rested her hand on his thigh and began to rub. She heard Jaune's breath hitch, meaning she was doing good. It was time to move in.

"Hey, Jaune?" He nervously gulped and looked to her. She pressed her lips to his, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Everything was going according to plan.

"Mm!" Jaune pulled away, putting his hands up defensively. "Uh, c-can we just watch the movie right now, Nora?"

"Uh, y-yeah, sure." Nora returned to her previous sitting position, leaning into Jaune. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but it was different this time. Where once was a firm, yet secure grip, was a limp sausage for a hand.

'Swing and a miss, Nora,' she sighs to herself, 'again.'

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

"Agh!" Jaune grunted as Pyrrha cried out. He panted, looking at the sweaty angel beneath him. "Was... Was that good?"

"Very good." Pyrrha cooed as she stroked his cheek.

"I'm sorry if I was, uh, too fast." Jaune apologized. "I'm not used to this kind of thing, and I got a little-"

Pyrrha kissed him. A wave of relief washed over and through Jaune. She playfully rolled him to his side, next to her, and stroked his hair.

"I'm not used to this, either." She smiled, pulling herself closer to Jaune. "But, nothing a little practice can't help," he hand glided down his chest, her middle finger kissing his bare skin on the way to her destination, "right?"

Jaune gasped at the sudden interaction. He then gave a chuckle. He kissed her, his hands returning his affection for her. He pulled and groped and slid and teased, until Pyrrha had to stop her teasing to enjoy what was given to her. She shuddered and gasped, before rolling on top of Jaune.

"Your foreplay is really good, though." She giggled. "Where did you learn that?"

"Uh, the Schnee-net?" Jaune awkwardly chuckled.

"Mm, well, research is half of what makes good technique." She lined herself to Jaune's member. "And the other half is practice."

As the two engaged each other again, Jaune was glad for the "practice" his partner was giving him, but he didn't want this to be just practice. For him, this was a prelude of things to come, because in his eyes, Pyrrha Nikos would be his first and last woman he'd have sex with.

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

Nora walked into her apartment, her head hung low in defeat. She tossed her purse to the side and passed Ren, who was on the couch watching TV.

"So, how was your date?" Nora gave a mumble in return. "Dinner go well?" Another mumble. "Was the movie boring?" Mumbles.

Nora had shuffled into her bedroom, full of pink and fluff, as well as metal posters for bands like Sküll and Rage'N'Rock. She changed into her pajamas, grumbling at Ren's question. She returned to the living room, where she plopped down onto the couch.

"No sex again?"

"Yeah." Nora sighs. This had been a common discussion for the two of them since Nora's first attempt over a month ago."I just... I don't know what it is."

"Have you tried asking him?" Ren offered.

"I don't want to rush him into this." Nora shook her head. "I know I can be impulsive and hard-headed and, uh..."

"Brash? Hasty? Unable to sit still for more than two minutes?"

"Yeah, but not with this." Nora shook her head. "Not with him. After everything we've been through, he shouldn't have to explain himself."

"No, but if there's no communication, then you can't work together on solving the problem, or even see if there is a problem." Ren reached to coffee table, and sipped his tea. "Of course, this is none of my business."

"Maybe you're right, Ren." She chuckles. "You always are."

"It is as much a blessing as it is a curse." Ren smiled. "Now, I believe I was watching some classic animation."

"Your boobie hentai?"

"It has a few nudity scenes, but nothing sexual." Ren argued. "It's not smut. It's art."

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

Nora watched as Spruce Willow, once again, gave another cheesy line before his big action scene. She rolled her eyes at the concept, for what felt like the millionth time. Just smash the monster and be done with it. One-liners were for people insecure with themselves, and she would fight anyone for it.

Speaking of blonds with self-esteem issues, Nora glanced at her boyfriend, who had a wide grin on his face. He looked so happy, it gave her pause to consider her actions. She smiled and leaned into him, and almost like clockwork, Jaune put his arm around her shoulder.

Changing her usual route, she reached a hand up and rubbed his chest. His breath hitched and he glanced down at her. Her fingers glided down his chest to his sturdy abdomen, and he had to resist the urge to giggle, lest she decide to tickle him. He lost many a tickle fight against her, seeing as she had no tickle spots.

Her fingers lifted from his navel, and her eyes rose to meet his. She gently placed her palm right over his groin. His smile fell.

"Uh, N-Nora, can we watch the movie first?" Jaune nervously asked.

"Um, actually, can we pause first?" Nora replied, removing her hand and pulling away from him. "I need to ask you something."

"Uh, sure." He picked up the remote and paused it. "What, uh, what's up?"

"It's about... us," Nora answered, "and about being together. Like, together-together together."

"Uh-huh?" Jaune cautiously nodded.

It was now or never. She let out a heavy sigh. "Do you... want to have sex?" She threw up her hands defensively. "And if you don't that's totally okay!" She swallowed a lump in her throat, lowering her hand to her lap, resting them on her thighs. "But... after the first few dates of trying and getting nothing, I just gotta ask. Is... Is it me, or are you just not ready? Again, you don't have to answer!"

"I..." Jaune gulped, trying to look away. "I just, uh..."

Nora placed her hand over his, surprising him at the suddenly tender gesture. Nora was always sweet to him, especially after they started dating. True, she liked to rough-house and was brutally honest to a fault, but beyond that was a kind and loving spirit he couldn't help but love. Her eyes seemed to glisten in the buzzing light, a face full of concern. He didn't want to say something he'd regret, but Nora deserved the truth.

"Well," Jaune gulp, "I'm... scared."

"Scared?" Nora repeated. "Scared of what? Sex?"

"Kind of." He scratches his cheek. "It's... complicated."

"I like complicated." Nora smiled.

"You like everything, Nora." Jaune chuckled.

"Yeah," she giggled, then sighed, "and that includes you. So, why are you scared of sex?"

"Well, I'm not so much scared of sex, as I am scared of... disappointment."

"Pfft!" Nora raspberried. "You think I'm that bad in bed?"

"No! No!" Jaune laughed. "It's... It's more about me." He looked down at his feet. "I've only ever been with one person, and even then, we only had sex a few times. I... I was awful. Terrible at it. But she always pushed me to try harder."

"It was Pyrrha, right?" Nora asked.

"Yeah."

"I knew it!" Nora smirked. "I thought your sword was a little harder after you two started training," she wagged her eye-brows, "and I'm not just talkin' 'bout the one in the shield, either." She nudged his arm with an elbow, and they both laughed.

"I guess I was a little more confident." He chuckled. "But after the Fall, I started doubting myself. I kept thinking how I wouldn't be able to meet anyone else's expectations. I mean, I loved Pyrrha, but even I knew when she was just being nice. She only said I was good because she loved me."

"And you had a big cock and good keep it up for about five minutes." Jaune whirled his flushed face at Nora. "What? Girls talk, Jaune."

"Right, right." Jaune shook his head, him somehow forgetting his septuplicate sororital upbringing. "But that's why I'm... I'm just not ready yet."

"Alright," Nora shrugged, leaning into Jaune. "I won't force you if you aren't ready to. For now, it's just date nights with no sex and vety meh action movies."

"Meh action movies?!" Jaune gasped. "You said you liked these movies!"

"No," Nora looked up, a cheeky smile on her lips, "I said I love movie nights with you. I never said anything about the movies." She giggled, and he laughed in return. "Oh, and Jaune? I'm sorry for pushing you. I know I'm not the best at holding back, but I'm glad that you were able to open up to me."

"No problem." Jaune pecked her lips. "After all, I love you, Nora. Ready for more 'meh action'?"

"You're not gonna let that go, are you?" Nora sighed.

"Nope!" Jaune chuckled. He played the movie, and the action resumed.

However, neither parties were focused on the entertainment on the screen. Instead, they sat silent as heat filled their faces. Neither of the two dared look at each other. Inside their heads, alarms blared.

'I just told her I love her!'

'He just told me loves me!'

#rwby #jaune arc #nora's arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #arkos

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gretagolden · 2 years

Text

alone together | danny wagner — chapter one

danny wagner x female oc

summary: after his best friend ends up in a relationship with his high school crush, danny finds himself growing closer to her little sister. | word count: ~3.7k, please excuse any errors!

chapter warnings: uses marijuana

notes: likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated! six months and three total rewrites later we’re back and gonna try this again! this is a trial run, if not we’ll just go back to ao3 and never discuss this again! for the sake of reference, the oc’s sister is the “oc” from like friends do — which was a sam fic i posted a while ago here. you don’t have to read to understand this fic that if you don’t want, but you can if you want to! there’s also more chapters of that that expanded on that story on ao3 as well if you’re interested in that. if you want the tag list for this story or just my tag list in general, let me know!

Abigail took the joint Oliver held out to her across the center console to where she laid with her legs stretched out across the back seat of the hot black leather that burned against her skin through the white fabric of her dress, her feet underneath where Oliver had reclined his driver seat all the way back and her upper body leaning against the opposite door of the backseat. She leaned forward to claim the small self-rolled thing from her older brother, inhale a hit, and then lean backed against the window again, letting the sun shine on her face and the cross-breeze hit her from the open sunroof and the few inches of the open window above her Oliver had left open.

“Congratulations, Gil.” He offered as he took the joint back, “you’ve officially entered the phase of life where this is a cry for help.”

She burst out in a short and sharp laugh, “how comforting.”

She felt the sun against the back of her neck and she squinted in its brightness. They could hear the chatter from the yard of the childhood home around the corner, all the people gathered to celebrate the graduation of the youngest Flynn child’s graduation from the University of Michigan.

“It’s true. Unless you somehow beat a Grammy, there’s not much else to make you special.” He turned his head to raise an eyebrow at her, “the in-laws have got you beat.”

Gilly looked at her older brother — the only Flynn to not have their life flipped by the rise of Greta van Fleet; Birkenstocks, Bermuda shorts, a Ralph Lauren button down, floppy brown hair and 70s inspired mustache like he’d only recently outgrown the frat he’d left years ago. He knew who he was, some guy in dress pants in the financial sector of Chicago riding from River North to the financial district on a motorized scooter every morning. He wasn’t bothered by anything about it in the latest, he went to work during the week and hiked during the weekends and blew too much money at music festivals and enjoyed it all. “You say that like you care about being special.”

“You’re right.” He said, looking at her from the rear view mirror, pointing at her “I don’t. But you do.”

He squinted one eye shut, squishing his fingers like he was squishing her in his eyesight.

Gilly rolled her eyes, turning her head uncomfortably to look at Sam’s Tesla down the street. She remembered how young he was when he bought it, and remembered feeling stupid for feeling ashamed when she didn’t do the same at the same age – even though she didn’t even want a Tesla. It hadn’t been about the car, though, and her therapist had made her hash through it for ages until she’d felt nothing. But Oliver was right, it had been a blow to her ego. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join them,’ she muttered.

“I can’t believe you’re doing that, you know.” He sighed, “I mean, I’m glad, in the end. But I wish you’d let me convince Dad that Chicago is better.”’

Out of everyone who hated The Nashville Thing, Oliver was a close second only to Gilly. The Nashville Thing had been contrived the previous summer at a ritzy country club somewhere after a game of golf, when it became increasingly clear that Gilly planned on moving to Boston after graduating university and even more clear that her father was vehemently against it. A intermediary job, he proposed to Sam and Danny, somewhere where she’d know people – she could hear her father’s voice in her head – while she figured it out. Jack Flynn had told the boys that he trusted them, that it would be the best thing for Gilly, his youngest and dear daughter. Sam was desperate for Jack’s approval as his future son-in-law, Danny was desperate for Jack’s approval just as he’d always been since the first day he’d become his golf instructor. Everyone had been convinced it was the best course of action before the news had even made its way to Abigail Flynn. Oliver wouldn’t have been able to get a word in about Chicago even if he had tried.

“Oh, yeah? With what pitch?” She smirked, antagonizing him playfully, “‘have Gilly come live in my city, where I’m basically living in a financial district frat house’? Do you know what Sam and Gracie have? A yard, and a guest bedroom.”

He rolled his eyes again, “And a Grammy.”

“You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you?” She questioned, grinning. She sat up, pulling her legs into a crossed-cross position and sitting in the middle of the back seat. She leaned forward over the center console to grab the joint again, “you plotting to steal Sam Kiszka’s Grammy?”

“No.” He smiled, turning his head to look at her, grinning back at his little sister. “just Jake’s.”

She inhaled deeply, held it, and then exhaled slowly, staring out the front windshield. Without knowing why she’d felt the need to say it, she told him what he’d known for months. The only real heartbreak he’d ever known his sister to endure. “I wanted to go to Boston.”

“I know.” He said. His gaze softened, and his mouth twisted into a bittersweet morph between a frown and a pity smile. “I want you to go to Boston too.”

Gilly watched in the rearview mirror as Gracie Flynn rounded the corner barefoot in her floral sundress. “Just not now,” she acquiesced, handing Oliver the joint from Gilly to be sure he was the one who was caught with it when their sister reached the car.

“Soon enough.” He promised before Gracie reached them.

Gracie tapped on Oliver’s driver side window, and watched as he hit the button on the inside of his door and allowed the pane of glass to slide down the rest of the way. Once it was down all the way, she reached in, grabbed the joint from Oliver and leaned her upper body into the car to take a puff. She looked straight past Oliver to Gilly, “a party all for you and you’re not even in there.”

The youngest sister shrugged. She loved Gracie, but being under her gaze always made her want to shrink away. Perhaps she loved her too much, always wanting to be enough and scared she wouldn’t amount to it if she let her older sister in too close. By all accounts, Gracie should’ve been the oldest. Gilly had little reserve with Oliver, but then, Gracie didn’t either – he was exorbitant and loud and wore his flaws on his sleeve so much so they became enduring, little more than charming quirks people brushed away. People loved him because they felt like they knew him the second they met him. People loved Gracie because they were never able to quite know her entirely. Gilly had gone twenty-two years without understanding her. Perhaps she was scared she’d just find herself looking back at a mirror. Nonetheless, she’d perfected the role of Gracie’s little sister, pestering and high strung in a way people found amusing in small doses. Anything more and people found her to be too much, she realized. That was what Gracie had perfected, in comparison. She was never too much.

“I’m not much of the partying type.” She offered back.

Gracie raised an eyebrow, “that’s not what I heard from frat row.”

“That’s different.” Gilly straightened up her posture, and then reached for her shoes on the floor behind the passenger seat, “That’s a Flynn family legacy.”

“Nonetheless,” She handed what was left of the joint back to Oliver, “You’ve been requested inside.”

Gilly managed to pull herself out from the car, though ungracefully, and walked alongside Gracie in silence as the pair made their way back to their parents house. She folded her arms into each other and across her chest as though she was trying to disappear from being seen, like she could make herself invisible if she willed it hard enough. As they neared the house, Gracie broke the silence with instructions, “go to your room when we get back — brush through your hair with your fingers and wish your eyes out with some eye drops. Light a match and wave it around you a bit, then perfume.” She sighed, “you should’ve changed.”

Gilly nodded at the first bit, and then shrugged at the second. They made their way to the pavement path that cut down the length of the yard from the sidewalk up a small incline to the porch, only making it half-way up before someone shouted Gracie’s name behind them. Gilly turned to find Danny Wagner walking towards them, almost in a jog to meet them where the two girls stood. As he got closer, she saw a small box in his hand wrapped in an iridescent polka-dotted white wrapping paper. “Sorry I’m late. I’m glad I caught you guys before you went in,” he told them as he caught up to them, “I wasn’t sure whether to go through the front or the back.”

“Either way's fine, you know your way around.” Gracie smiled at him, bringing him in for a brief hug, “how are you?”

“Good. Same as when I saw you and Sam last night, anyways.” He smiled as the hug ended, free hand pushing his sunglasses off his eyes to rest on the top of his head and then resting the hand on his hip. He wore black jeans and a white t-shirt, one that looked like he’d just bought it off the rack. He looked good, but that wasn’t new for him in Gilly’s estimation. She was still examining him when he turned to her, “happy graduation, Abigail.”

Gilly ran her hands up and down her arms, and nodded at him in appreciation with a tight smile — too high not to be awkward. “Thanks.”

“We should head in.” Gracie told them, “they’re missing us by now. Sam will be happy to see you.”

They followed the blonde girl inside diligently, and as they entered, Gilly held the screen door open for Danny to come in beside her. The Flynn family home hadn’t changed in 15 years. There was the small patch of tile sectioned from the rest of the room with a stairwell to the basement on the left and a wall on the right with a coat rack hanging on the wall above it and a small table for keys and knickknacks where the family left their shoes. The living room was unassuming on the other side of the stairwell, furnished in the same fashion it had for years with its boxy TV and light gray carpet and a bay window facing the front yard set in one wood paneled wall. The kitchen was frozen in the 90s behind it, with a wooden island and matching chairs to separate the two rooms — all light oak cabinets and light laminate countertops and a small cuckoo clock. The wooden stairs to the second floor to the right that hid the dining room across from the kitchen had the same carpet runner it had when Danny was in middle school. If he followed straight through past the kitchen, Danny could see the open French doors to the back patio, where he could smell the food on the grill and the chattering of the neighbors.

Gracie nearly immediately headed back through outside, and Gilly was about to head up the stairs before Danny reached out and grabbed her arm to get attention, “Hey, got you a gift.”

“Hm?” Gilly stopped on the first step and turned around, wide-eyed and anxious.

Danny caught a whiff of her, looked at her only to find her slightly out of it, and broke out into an amused laugh, “are you high?”

“No,” she shook her head, lying, “no, no I —“

“Damn, you started even earlier than I did after I graduated high school.” His laugh spread into a grin, his hand dropped from her arm with a look of pride on his face.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she lowered her hair so that the dark strains fell and obscured her face as she rubbed her eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she asked him as she looked back up.

Danny shook his head, thrilled to be in on the secret. “Your dad keeps the extra matches in the toolbox in the garage, if you need them.”

She nodded gratefully, “I’ll see you outside.”

She stepped down and around him, and Danny turned his head to watch as she headed straight across the room to the small dark hallway where the laundry machine buzzed and concealed the door to the garage. She disappeared from the house without a sound.

She found Danny outside half an hour later, holding out a corona for him in the hand that was free from her seltzer. She must’ve gotten them from the fridge, the way they cold hit against his hand. It was almost jarring to him, how grown up she was — though the jarring part was that it meant that he was also grown up. She was only a year younger than him, but he still felt eighteen and she had just graduated college. More than growing up, she’d grown into herself. Tall and poised, dark hair long and babyface gone. Her smile was braceless now, but it still lit up her eyes, even if they’d become piercing and sharp as she’d gotten older.

“Disgusting, isn’t it?” She asked, handing the bottle to Danny before turning to where his gaze had been before — on her sister and Sammy over near the fence of their lawn, together for nearly half a year when it really should have been a year already. They were sharing a small plastic plate of cheese and crackers and grapes, smiling at some joke they were sharing in their own conversation, whispered just to each other. They looked happy, attached at the hip but just discreet enough that you couldn’t exactly call it PDA.

“Why?” Danny questioned, looking at the girl her family had affectionately nicknamed Gilly since she was a kid, bad bangs grown out and complexion cleared of imperfections. The sun was shining down through the trees that branched over the porch, making shadows that cast shapes across her face and the white fabric of her sundress. “Because you have a crush on Sammy?”

Gilly huffed, arms crossed. “Not nearly as big as the one you have on Gracie.”

His brow knit together, shaking his head as he swiped the condensation off his beer bottle and wiped it onto his jeans, “I don’t have a crush on Gracie.”

The younger girl cracked a smile, “You’re a terrible liar.”

They went silent for a moment, standing together like a pair of outsiders observing the larger gathering of Gilly’s college graduation party, a cake with her name in script and a large Congratulations! above it in the U Mich colors half eaten on opposite ends of the porch. Oliver was sneaking a piece away, and waved at them before disappearing back inside. Their dads joined Mr. Kiszka around the grill and she was glad the initial fanfare of doing the rounds to greet everyone and thank them was over. The air was encroaching on muggy, summer was settling in. Last time they’d all been together in a similar way, it had been Sammy and Daniel’s graduation trip to the cabin — the trip where Gilly had sprained her ankle on a hike and Danny had carried her down the trail, refusing to leave her alone even when everyone else had gone out again. They left a week later, and though she’d rarely seen most of them since, it was always Danny who’d kept in most contact.

After her father had pitched the idea of convincing Gilly to move to Nashville to work with the boys to Danny and Sam on the golf course, it was Sam and Josh who had done the most convincing, but it was Danny who had the influence. There was a special sensitivity Gracie had for Danny, an appreciation for how he used to drive her home from school, and never missed her birthday, the way he’d always answered when she’d drunk call him at college on her way home alone from a party. For his part, Danny, of course, was largely unaware of this sway.

Gilly began walking then, down the porch and to a corner between the railing and the fence where a vacant yard table stood. Her pace was slow, and Danny had to attempt with effort to slow and match it with his longer legs.

“You’re really moving to Nashville then, are you?” He asked her, rocking back on his heels and simultaneously lifting his corona to his lips. He appreciated the tall trees, but he squinted anyway as though they weren’t blocking the sun just so.

Gilly nodded, her lips in a tight line and her brows lifted in a sort of mock shrug, “not like I’ve got anything else going on, the job market is shit without nepotism. I heard the cheese shop here was hiring, though.”

She’d turned to face him, and then pushed herself up on the table, shaking off her ballet flats to the grass below and pulling her knees up to her body. Danny stopped before her. She gazed at him, and a part of her wanted to tell him about Boston. She bit her tongue instead.

“I’d much rather you be with us than at the cheese shop.” He huffed a laugh, “Is it nepotism if he’s not technically your family?”

“Yet.” She looked back to Sam and her sister, huddled together close over the same plate, sharing the same seltzer, and grinning at each other lost in their conversation. “I give it two years before they’re engaged,” she said simply, “I think everyone always knew it was going to be them in the end.”

He nodded, but it seemed almost absent, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely. Certainly, she figured, he was thinking about Gracie. She felt bad for bringing it up, she had probably twisted the dull knife more than she’d meant to. Whatever he denied, she wasn’t entirely wrong. It was her own sort of masochism, to deny that it was a dull knife in her own chest too.

“Sam said you’re resisting East Nashville.” He redirected the subject, not wanting to look at his best friends together anymore.

Gilly’s eyes flickered back to him. She’d always looked at him the same way — her gaze on him had always been distinct, though he’d never really been able to figure out what it had meant. Now, it was almost so intense he felt like he should look away even though he couldn’t. She looked at everyone like she held their entire universe in her pupils and was simply waiting for them to divulge what she already knew. Gilly in her very existence was severe — that was the word.

“Is it not pathetic enough that I’m moving to Nashville just because my sister's boyfriend suggested it when my parents asked him to without also moving into his neighborhood?” She asked, and he couldn’t deny the edge of insecurity that frayed at the tone of her wit.

“You’re not burdening us, you know.” He promised her. He turned his body to lean against the porch railing but still faced her, an eyebrow raised, “have you ever considered Sam offered it because we want you there?”

Gilly laughed this time, turning her head away from him and up to stare at the trees, hiding the embarrassment she felt and didn’t want him to see. “yeah, sure. The little sister is always a blast to have around.”

Danny shook his head, “it’d do you good to stop cutting yourself short, Abigail.”

He smiled tentatively at her. She let him lay the placation at her feet. If she had any guts at all, she thought, she’d tell him she already had.

Abigail looked back to Gracie, the sister who was smart and kind and had just the right amount of wit and charm. The sister who wanted to live close to home to their parents. The sister who knew her limits, and knew herself, and seemed to always know exactly what to do and why and when. The sister she loved, and the sister Danny loved too. Cutting herself short had always been the default when she had a free ride on Gracie’s coattails, it made it easier to not be too much that way.

She didn’t tell Danny this. Instead she teased him, like she always antagonized everyone, “What, are you my dad now?”

“I sure wouldn’t mind being able to golf like him.”

She shut her eyes briefly, as if she should’ve seen it coming, “you’re an old man.”

He shrugged, pleased with his efforts. “Think about it though?” He asked, and continued when she groaned, “please. For me?”

She sighed. There was never a scenario in which she didn’t end up in East Nashville anyway. Her shoulders dropped, her head lulled back to look at him. “Okay.”

“Is that a yes?” He questioned, hopefully.

Gilly hated to admit she liked that his eyes lit up. She shut one eye, reaching out and up to pull the black sunglasses off his head. She didn’t put them on, but held them between her hands in his lap. She pretended to considered it for a moment.

“You suck.” She told him affirmatively, looking back at her parents on the porch before turning back to him, “like, massively.”

“I know.” He told her. He didn’t feel bad about it, though. It would be good for her to get out of Michigan, to feel the sun more. There was better food in Nashville, better bars, better music — it was better to be twenty-two there than anywhere near Frankenmuth or Ann Arbor.

If he would’ve told her this, she wouldn’t have believed him. When she was eventually pulled from the conversation, she took his glasses with her. He didn’t bother to try to get them back at the end of the party, and left the house at dusk unperturbed at her theft. He’d just get them back in Nashville.

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