#I also feel bad my mom took the puppy

[deadhead-greenpinky]

Personal rambling.. keep it moving.

Idk where to start I’m just so sad and frustrated.. I told my husband I didn’t feel ready for a dog. I’m so overwhelmed with the new house and I’ve only moved once before so it’s a big change for me. The plan was to wait a couple years but he talked me into getting one now anyway. I thought, why not? Not much is going to change in a couple years, we’ve always wanted a dog, I’ll adjust.

I did not adjust. I hated every second of it. I love dogs and don’t understand why I felt that way. I just started hating the puppy and my husband more and more every day. I got very depressed. The house was a disaster and it was so hot my garden completely died because I couldn’t keep up with everything.

My mom took the puppy. My husband was sad and understandably upset but understood. I’m just still so upset he didn’t listen. And I’m upset I didn’t put my foot down. I was feeling good about this house I was excited to finish unpacking and decorate and learn how to care for the beautiful garden that was left here.. my chronic pain still gets to me sometimes but I felt really happy in spite of that. This ruined it. My mental health is the worst it’s been in many years. I’m so disappointed in myself.

[egcdeath]

something old, something new

pairing: patrick zweig x f!reader

summary: when your childhood best friend asks you to get married, how are you supposed to say no?

word count: 7.2k

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no explicit sex scenes), marriage of convenience, fluff, mentions of alcohol, patrick is a bad friend (but he improves), friends to spouses to lovers, fake dating, yearning and pining, everyone is bad at communicating, many feelings are being repressed, mentions of dieting in an athlete way, one singular creepy old man, no use of y/n

author’s note: i cannot get this tennis man out of my head!! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

It wasn’t every day that you could count on hearing anything from your childhood best friend, but it seemed like whenever you did hear from Patrick Zweig, it was always an ask for something more shocking than the previous one. 

As kids, you spent many evenings doing the homework that Patrick didn’t want to do, despite the fact that you didn’t really want to do more homework either. At boarding school, you’d somehow become his personal designated driver, answering his calls no matter what time and groggily picking him up from whatever party he’d found himself at. In your adulthood, you found yourself becoming a go-to stand-in for him at events he didn’t feel like attending. The amount of times that you’d shaken hands at charity galas and introduced yourself as Patrick’s girlfriend, despite not having a single romantic encounter with him, was frankly astounding. 

It seemed like whenever Patrick needed something, you were the first person he reached out to. After his parents, of course. 

You dreaded knowing the reason behind the simple hey, text message you’d just received, but you were sure that you’d find the reason out sooner rather than later–and that whatever the reason was could not have been good. 

Like clockwork, only an hour after you’d received his message, Patrick appeared at the doorway of your apartment. He came to you equipped with his secret weapon, the kicked puppy look that he often used on you before he asked you for a ridiculous favor, like breaking up with his girlfriend for him or telling his mom that he still wasn’t joining the board of the family business. 

You sighed as you took his less-than-stellar appearance in. Downtrodden expression, wrinkled and sweat-stained shirt, as if he’d gone to the gym to sweat out his feelings before coming to you, and eyes so red-rimmed, you wondered if he’d been crying. 

If you had to guess, he’d either been arguing with his parents, who knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his tennis friends, who also knew exactly how to get under his skin, or his latest girlfriend, who probably confronted him about his own wrongdoings. Regardless of who had upset him, he had obviously come to you to lick his wounds. 

Like always, Patrick stalked inside without asking you for any further permission. The two of you had done this song and dance more times than either one of you would like to admit. 

“How are you?” he asked, stopping in your kitchen to steal an apple from your decorative bowl of fruit.

“I’m good,” you said with hesitation, eyeing him once more. He really looked like shit. If he hadn’t looked so sad, you would’ve told him exactly how much shit he looked like.  

“Aren’t you gonna ask me how I am?” he questioned, a little pathetically.

“No,” you walked off to your living room, fully expecting him to follow you. You were unsurprised when he did exactly that. “Let’s just get right to it. Why’d you come over here?” you asked as the two of you sat down on your couch. 

“My parents are cutting me off,” he explained, voice breaking as he spoke.

Surely, this couldn’t all be over an empty threat. They seemed to threaten Patrick with this every few days. In fact, you’d been in the room with him when his parents promised that he’d never see another dime from them–more than once. Every time, it ended with them coming to their senses and throwing more cash at him. 

“That’s what, the twentieth time?” you laughed. “They always threaten to cut you off. What’s different this time?”

“This time, they mean it.”

You laughed even harder in his face. If you had a quarter for every time you’d had this conversation, you’d be richer than the two of your families combined. 

“I’m serious,” he inched closer to you. “They’re tired of funding my ‘tennis habit’. They want me to get serious about life. To join the board and start a family. My dad showed me an edited draft of his will and everything”

“So?” you prompted, trying to figure out where you fell into the equation. Hopefully he wouldn’t try to put you up to something absurd, like seducing his father into convincing him to not threaten Patrick’s inheritance.

“So, tennis is the only thing I care about.”

“Okay…” you trailed off. “What would you like me to do about that?”

“I need you to help show my parents that I have a vision for the future.”

“Again, Patrick, what exactly are you asking me to do?”

“Marry me.”

You weren’t sure what you expected him to say, but it certainly was not that. Your mouth instantly dropped open and you were sure that you were gaping like a fish. Maybe if he had asked you ten years ago, you’d have instantly said yes, but you’d let that naive dream die after you’d come to realize the transactional subtext of your friendship.

“What?”

“I want you to marry me. I was thinking… you remember when we were younger and we made that pact, that if we weren’t married by the time we were adults, then we’d get hitched?”

You continued to stare at him, completely dumbfounded and not believing a single word coming from his mouth. “I… I…” you couldn’t even form the words. “We were kids!”

He gave you a halfhearted shrug, as if that didn’t matter at all, and as if he didn’t just ask you to be legally and romantically bound to him forever.

“You are fucking unbelievable! You haven't talked to me for anything other than asking me a favor in years, I barely know you’re alive apart from the random drunk texts you send me, and now you want me to marry you? Do you even hear yourself?”

You scoffed and stared at him in disbelief. “And that has to be the worst proposal in all of human history. First you tell me that tennis is the only thing you care about and then ask me to marry you? You’re a joke.”

He let you finish your rant, but after a beat he finally asked. “…Is that a no?”

———-

Stranger things had happened to you than marrying your childhood best friend just a month after he’d randomly popped back up in your life. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you walked down the aisle on a beautiful beach off of the Amalfi Coast.

The last few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind, with what felt like every second of your time consumed by making guest lists and invitations, booking hotel rooms, and finding a dress that you liked enough to get married in. Obviously, you knew this was more of an elaborate scheme than a celebration of love, but you wanted it to be nice anyway. For all you knew, you may never get married again.

You don’t know what possessed you to say yes to Patrick. Maybe the small, desperate part of you that had been begging him to truly see you since you were old enough to realize he didn’t, or maybe the desire to finally have that fairytale destination wedding you’d been dreaming about from the time you learned what a wedding was. Regardless of the reason, both of your families were overjoyed by the union. In one fell swoop, you’d been able to satisfy both of your parents’ desires for you to settle down, and you’d done it with someone both pairs approved of. 

You had to give props to Patrick, the ceremony was beautiful. Given the short timeline, the two of you decided to divide and conquer the planning of the event. You were sure that he’d outsourced the work, since he was still in the middle of his tennis season, but whoever he hired did an excellent job at giving you the wedding you’d always wanted. 

Despite the very short timeline everyone had been given, you were able to wrangle all of your close family and friends to Italy to watch you elope. Your parents had insisted on inviting second cousins and shareholders to your wedding, but you’d somehow convinced them that you and Patrick wanted a smaller, more intimate ceremony. It was probably better to have less people there, lest someone notices the artificial nature of your union. 

Part of you felt like you’d pulled off the greatest prank of all time as the two of you stood up in front of your small crowd, gazing as lovingly as you could manage into each others’ eyes while the officiant said his spiel, but the other, more logical part of you filled with dread as the reality of the situation began to set in. Patrick seemed to have a way of always dragging you into a shitty situation, and you hoped for both of your sakes, that that wouldn’t be the case for your marriage.

After what felt like a lifetime, Patrick began to recite his vows, claiming to have loved you since you were children, and promising to continue to love you ‘till death did you part. If you had been marrying literally anyone else, your knees would go weak with swooning. 

Unfortunately, you were cursed with the knowledge of the reality of your situation, one where your vows sounded more like: “We only have to stay married until I retire, which should be sooner rather than later. We don’t have to do anything together: no galas, no family dinners, no family vacations. Hell, you don’t even have to come to my games. And we don’t have to be exclusive either. This is basically just a title, so feel free to see anyone you want to. I can already see the worry in your face. Stop that. We can hire someone to make us prenups, so the divorce will be an easy, clean split of our assets. See? It’s not that bad.”

The dichotomy between the words he’d said to you a month ago and the bullshit he was spewing now almost made you laugh, but that was clearly not the reaction you were meant to be having when the love of your life was publicly declaring their feelings for you. 

Once he finished declaring his romantic, empty words, you began to read off your vows. They fell in a similar vein to his, a proclamation of a lifetime-spanning love that didn’t really exist in the first place. But when you glanced up at him from your slip of paper, he was really selling it. He stared at you like he adored you, like he wanted to study every inch of your face after running off with you into the sunset.

The ridiculousness of it all finally hit you like a freight train, and you managed to pivot the laugh that was creeping up into your throat into a weepy sounding crack of your voice. Surely people cried during their own weddings. 

You finished off your vows, doing your best to pretend like this whole ordeal wasn’t the most ridiculous scheme you’d ever been dragged into. You imagined a world where he was less selfish and you were less selfless, one where you were exchanging these vows with sincerity, and it helped you to get through the words that you knew were almost completely meaningless. 

The two of you then took turns placing the ring on each others’ fingers, with Patrick giving you a ring with the largest diamond you’d ever seen, and you giving him a band that had been passed throughout your family. He’d agreed to give you the heirloom back once you divorced, so you couldn’t complain too much about giving it away in the first place.

The announcement of being able to kiss the bride rang out in your ears, yet you still found yourself surprised when Patrick eagerly wrapped his arms around you and kissed you passionately. Cheers erupted around the two of you, and you pulled away as the officiant declared you Mr. and Mrs. Zweig.

You had successfully tricked your audience, and yet, you still had the strangest feeling. 

Your reception felt far more natural than your wedding ceremony. After a change of outfit, a huge bowl of pasta, and a few flutes of champagne, you were feeling substantially better about the arguably poor decision you’d just made. You chatted up your friends, who jumped at the opportunity to comment on how cute of a couple you two were, did some light matchmaking between single guests, and placated both of your parents with manufactured acts of affection. You even managed to get Patrick out on the dance floor, after he swore to you that he didn’t dance. 

By the time the two of you were stumbling back into your villa, the woes of the day had practically been forgotten. When you were having this much fun, who cared about a massive, potentially life altering decision? 

You immediately made a beeline to the bathroom, anxious to get into your comfortable pajamas and to wash your face after a long day of wearing tight, extravagant dresses and a heavy layer of makeup.  

“So what did you think of your big day, Mrs. Zweig?” Patrick called out from the other side of the bathroom door, where you were sure he was also preparing for bed. “Was it everything you wanted and more?”

“I think this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you paused as you thought about something before confessing, “but it was everything I wanted and more.”

“Yes!” he celebrated from where you couldn’t see him, though you could perfectly envision the goofy look on his face. “I owe it to you after everything I’ve put you through. I just hope you weren’t too let down by the groom.”

“What?” you drew out before blowing a raspberry. “Of course not. You looked very handsome today,” you complimented in between splashes of your face. 

“You looked pretty beautiful, yourself,” he complimented you right back. 

“Aww, thank you, honey,” you emphasized the pet name. 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I like that,” you heard the squeak of the bed from behind the door as you assumed that he’d sat down.

“Hey, you’re the one who made me marry you,” you pointed out. “Am I more than you bargained for?”

“Of course not, babe,” he emphasized his own pet name, which sent you into a fit of laughter. “It’s just so weird to hear you refer to me as anything other than an asshole.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re still an asshole,” you replied as you walked out of the bathroom, donning an old shirt with the logo of your boarding school and an equally old pair of shorts. “Just a married asshole.”

You took in the sight of your now-husband as you made your way to your side of the bed, surprised to find that you quite liked the sense of domestic bliss you were feeling. The bed dipped as you sat down and glanced back at Patrick with the slightest bit of hesitation. 

“Is this weird for you? I can go to the spare room, if you want me to,” he offered, surely in reference to the two of you sleeping in the same bed. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, setting a steady hand on his knee. “What kind of couple would we be if we didn’t spend our wedding night together?” you teased. 

“The kind of couple that marries for convenience?” he suggested.

“Hey, who’s to say that this isn’t love? I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Maybe some of it lingered, or some shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he looked at you with that sleazy smirk that you both loved and hated. “What happened?”

“Hmm… I think I realized that you’re a dick,” you matched his smirk with a challenging one of your own.

“Huh. Did you have this realization before or after you started seeing Dan Thompson?” he questioned.

You were surprised by the mention of your first boyfriend, particularly because you weren’t sure that Patrick remembered any detail about your personal life, let alone your love life. “I realized it after you started treating me like your workhorse.”

“Oh okay, so you had a crush on me while you were with your boyfriend. Good to know.”

“Shut up,” you groaned and turned away from him as you finally full laid down. 

“Would it make you feel better to know that I also had a crush on you?” you heard the bed sheets rustle as he scooted closer to you, and you turned back to face him. 

“You’re lying.” You couldn’t see any world where that would make sense to you. In your youth, it seemed like Patrick was always off somewhere with a new person, and none of those people were you. Not that you had an issue with it, but the thought that the two of you might’ve had crushes on each other at the same time without either of you pursuing each other felt kind of weird. 

“Nope. You’re the first person I ever jerked off to,” he said as casually as if he were telling you what he ate for breakfast, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Ew, you’re so gross,” you gently pushed him, but your hands lingered where they sat on his chest. “Was that supposed to be romantic or something?”

“That’s not romantic to you?” he asked with all the sincerity of someone who was fully committing to a bit. 

The two of you broke out into laughter. Once you finally caught your breath, you began once more. “This is gonna be a long marriage.”

“Hopefully,” he remarked in response. 

“If you keep talking to me like that, I will literally go get our marriage annulled, like right now.”

“Please don’t,” he whined, grabbing one of your hands from his chest and kissing your fingers. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Every time you promise to make something up to me, an inconsistent fairy gains its wings.”

“Hey,” his tone suddenly became very serious, completely catching you off guard. “I really am sorry that I’ve been a terrible friend. I don’t know that I’ve ever said it, but I am. You deserve so much better than me, and I don’t even know how I convinced you to do this for me.”

You almost started to laugh, unable to take the absurd situation seriously. You’d been waiting years to hear him genuinely apologize, and now hours after you’d married solely as a favor to him, he was finally telling you what you wanted to hear. 

“Please. I’m serious. I know you think I’m a piece of shit flaky ashhole, and I am, but I want to be a better husband to you than I ever was as a friend.”

You felt your heart stop beating for a second. The word husband sounded so foreign in his mouth. You couldn’t quite pin how you felt about it, but you knew you felt uncomfortable with the intimacy of his words. 

“Patrick, please shut up,” you squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly a little overwhelmed with the Patrick of it all. In fact, you couldn’t think of anything more encapsulating of your experience with him than the whiplash you got from that moment. He could be a complete asshat, but his occasional moments of earnestness kept you following him like a lost puppy, accepting his apologies and granting him ridiculous favors, despite your better judgment. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, moving closer to you to get a good look at you. You swore you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

“I’m fine, I just-“ am overwhelmed by you being sweet? Can’t believe that I’m hearing you say this to me after so long? Also can’t believe that you and I are married?

None of the right words seemed to come to you, so you did the second best thing you could think of. 

You pecked his lips and pulled away as if you’d just touched a hot handle. You didn’t know what had come over you, and immediately began to apologize profusely. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know-“ you were cut off by his hands on your face, greedily and sloppily pulling you back in for another kiss, this one far more passionate and confident than the first. 

Your kiss was messy but fervent, years of pent up sexual frustration and non-sexual frustration behind your every movement. As you kissed, you moved to straddle him, feeling a little ridiculous in your ratty old clothes, but that didn’t stop him from groping you over your pajamas like you were the hottest thing on the planet. 

Maybe the strangest thing to happen to you that day wasn’t even your wedding.

——

That night was the first in a series of very strange events. You couldn’t even fully wrap your head around what was happening in your marriage. You just knew that the two of you had become closer friends than you’d ever been before, and that you slept together when either of you had the urge. It was basically a no strings attached situation, except, legally, all strings were attached. 

If you were confused by your arrangement, you were sure that your friends were even more lost, something they proved to you as they interrogated you over brunch. 

“So, just so we’re clear, you married him as a favor?!” your friend asked in complete disbelief. 

“Well… yeah, basically.”

“Shit. Can I ask you for a favor of a million dollars?” she joked, leading to the laughter of your other friends at the table.

“Well, that’s different. At least with our marriage, we both benefit. He gets his parents off his ass about being so focused on tennis that he doesn’t have any future prospects, and I get my parents to stop trying to marry me off to every single rich boy they find.”

“But you’re not like, actually married. Like you guys don’t have feelings for each other?” another friend questioned.

You sipped your mimosa before explaining your situation for what must’ve been the fifth time that day, “we’re basically friends with benefits.”

“But you’re legally married? Like, the wedding was official and stuff?”

“Legally? Yeah. But it’s literally just that,” you clarified. 

“Legal marriage and sex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, hoping that they were finally catching on. 

“Then… are you guys seeing other people?”

“Oh yeah, what ever happened to that one model guy you were seeing?” another one of your friends pitched in. 

“It didn’t really work out,” you addressed that with an understatement. He rightfully flipped his shit when he found out you were going to be marrying someone else. “But neither of us are seeing other people. I don’t think either of us want to risk bringing anything back to one another.”

“That sounds pretty committed to me.”

“Not really,” you dismissed.

“Then why are you even together?”

“How many times do I have to explain how we both benefit from this?”

“No, not legally, or socially or whatever. Why are you hooking up with him? Aren’t you scared you’ll mess up your friendship or something?”

“Well, the sex is really, really good. But I’m really not worried. There's no romance between us. We’ve been friends for so long that it’s just… weird to look at him like anything other than my friend. It’s basically a loveless marriage of convenience.”

Your friend shot you a skeptical look. You just shrugged her off. 

———

The moment you found out your afternoon meeting had been canceled, you reached out to your assistant to make arrangements for you to go to Patrick’s tennis game. He’d been on a winning streak, and though he insisted that you didn’t need to come to his games, you knew that he secretly liked having you there. 

Over the past few months of your marriage, you’d grown to realize that he often didn’t say what he actually meant. Like the time he told you that he preferred to live alone, before breathily confessing in your ear that he slept better by your side. Or when he swore to you that he loved the pancakes you’d served him, despite the food being some of the worst you’d ever put in our mouth and him being on a diet. You almost found it sweet that he tried to prioritize your feelings over his own, which was surely a result of overcompensation from the way he had treated you for the majority of your lives. 

You arrived at his match just in time to watch him take a break, making your way into the stands and finding a seat where you’d have the best view of your friend as possible. You didn’t expect him to scan the audience and find you until much later on, but you were pleasantly surprised when the two of you made eye contact and he absolutely lit up. You waved, then gave him a thumbs up in hopes to communicate your support from far away. 

While you couldn’t always make it, you liked to play the role of supportive tennis wife. Getting dressed up and making an appearance not only publicly legitimized your sham of a marriage, but helped you to reconnect with some of your former boarding school classmates, who were often in the stands supporting a friend or a loved one. You also just liked to watch him play, as witnessing the passion and ferocity he had out on the court was extremely entertaining, and even at times, mildly arousing.  

With their break ending, Patrick went back out on the court and played just as well as you expected him to, crushing his competition, and looking up into the stands at you to celebrate once he’d scored the winning point. 

At first, it was surprising how proud his wins made you feel of him, a feeling that you explained to yourself by arguing that if he wasn’t giving his absolute all to tennis, then your marriage had basically been all for nothing. Although that did still ring slightly true, the truth was that you were simply proud of Patrick. Whether you liked it or not, the two of you were a unit now, which meant that his wins were your wins and vice versa. In some ways, it was kind of nice to be part of a team. Or at least his team.

You met Patrick down on the court, where he paused from packing his bag to immediately greet you with a kiss to the forehead, a small act of intimacy that was typically reserved for situations far different from the one you were currently in. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming!” he exclaimed, pulling you in for a half-hug. 

“I didn’t know I was coming either,” you instinctually wrapped your arm around him in response to his half-hug. “Great job out there. You kinda demolished him!”

“I did, didn’t I,” he said just loud enough for you to hear, still wanting to appear like a good sport. “I have to go get ready for the press conference. Do you want to meet me at my hotel?”

“Of course. You don’t mind me staying for the night?” you probed, despite knowing the answer. He wouldn’t have asked you to go to his hotel in the first place if he’d minded.

“You know I never mind you staying for the night,” he gave you a cheeky wink.

“You’re so sleazy,” you commented with fake disgust.

“You started it,” he replied, reluctantly pulling away from you and reaching into his bag to grab his hotel keycard. “I’ll text you when I’m heading back.” 

The moment you received a message about him being on his way to the hotel, you made a very lengthy phone call and request to the restaurant in the building. Technically, he shouldn’t be eating any of what you ordered, on account of him being on a strict diet plan, but you figured that he deserved it after playing the way that he did. Besides, Patrick liked thoughtful acts of service, and you figured that this would count as one.

“You know me so well,” he practically gasped as he stepped into the room, taking in the platters of food you’d laid out for him.

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t?” you teased, though your sentiment was somewhat accurate, and it was clear that the two of you had grown to know each other far better over the past few months, you hoped that your friend wasn’t interpreting your words in too serious of a way. 

The two of you laid out on the pristine hotel bed, eating the feast that you’d ordered without much dialogue between you, other than a comment on how good something was, or a request to pass an item to one another. It felt oddly domestic, and oddly enough, you liked it. Maybe you liked it even more than you’d been willing to admit.

“I’m gonna go shower,” he announced after tossing his napkin onto a cleared off plate.

“Want some company?” you offered, raising your brows at him in a playfully suggestive manner.

“Is that what this is all about?” he feigned offense. 

“Maybe,” you trailed off. “Or maybe I just wanted to celebrate the greatest tennis player of all time,” you purred.

“Come on. You and I both know that is far from the truth.”

“Well you’re the greatest player in my heart,” you praised, much to his chagrin.

“Ugh. Shut up and come shower with me.” 

As you sleepily ran your fingers through his damp hair, you were surprised when he broke his silence with a comment seemingly out of the blue. It was more of a mumble than anything else, but you’d grown accustomed to his muffled words over the course of your marriage. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he randomly complimented you.

“You know you don’t have to compliment me to get into my pants, right?” you asked with a hint of laughter in your tone.

“I’m not trying to,” he pecked your arm–the limb he had the easiest access to at the moment–as if he was trying to emphasize his point, though all it did was bring heat to your cheeks at the reminder of the way he’d pressed slow and meaningful kisses along your calves and inner thighs while the two of you were in the shower. “You just looked so good today, I couldn’t not comment.”

“I don’t look good every day?” you asked facetiously, trying to deflect from the warm and fuzzy feeling his compliments and affection were making you feel. 

“Of course you always look good,” he reassured you rather than playing along with your game of joking instead of addressing your feelings. “I just don’t tell you that enough.”

You weren’t even sure how you could respond to that. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood to mince words tonight, but you couldn’t bear to match his genuinity with cheap jokes. The only real, genuine thought to pop into your head were three ridiculous words that you immediately batted away. You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than randomly declaring your love to a husband who wasn’t really your husband in a marriage that wasn’t really a marriage. 

Out of ideas, you hit the lamp on your side of the bed. “I appreciate it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” he parroted back to you, remaining snug against your chest, despite the fact that your hands had stopped threading through his hair. 

Deep down, you knew that those three words had been on the tip of Patrick’s tongue, too.    

——

Being in the social circles of filthily rich people meant you often found yourself at random charity events, hosted by the nonprofits of families and business owners looking for a particularly large tax break for the year. Over the years, you’d felt that you’d seen and participated in it all: marathons raising awareness for a serious, but extremely rare disease, date auctions to raise money for a cause that certainly didn’t justify you having to go on a date with a man almost forty years your senior, or galas for nearly-extinct sea creatures that were essentially used as an excuse to stand around and network while drinking expensive alcohol and eating hor d'oeuvres.

You seemed to find yourself at a lot of events like the latter, including the one you were standing at now. The gala, which took place in the art exhibit it was raising money for, was a rather standard one, filled with the typical suspects who regularly attended those events. 

It was slightly ironic to be at the event with Patrick as your plus one, as this was the exact type of event he would’ve texted you about an hour before it began to ask if you would play his concerned partner for the night who told everyone a flimsy excuse about him being under the weather. 

It also served as somewhat of a reminder to you of the massive growth that your friend had undergone since the two of you became legally bound to one another. It finally felt like Patrick saw you as a true friend, instead of a reliable person who would do his dirty work. It finally felt like he cared. In some ways, your marriage was the best thing to happen to your friendship. 

Patrick returned to where you were standing, this time with two flutes of champagne and a delicious looking appetizer in his hand. 

“You’re too kind,” you said as he passed you your drink. 

“Anything for my wife,” he mockingly bowed in front of you and you chuckled and shook your head. Over the past year, the two of you slowly became slightly more comfortable with referencing each other as husband and wife, but only really as a joke. You guessed that in a lot of ways, that’s what your marriage was—a ridiculous inside joke.  

He was just about to feed you a hor d'oeuvre when you were approached by a wildly unwelcome figure: the man who had purchased a date with you a few years ago. Despite your one very awkward, stilted date, he never really seemed to get over you–which he made a point to prove at every event you both happened to be at. And unfortunately for you, his generous donations landed him on the guest list for the majority of these events. 

You were used to fighting him off on your own, as he seemed to come and flirt with you regardless of how inappropriate it was for the setting of the event, or even when he already had a beautiful young bombshell hanging on his arm. At this point, you’d learned to just tune his every word out and flee as soon as you possibly could. He was annoying, but he wasn’t dangerous.  

“Hey, honey,” he greeted you way too comfortably. You’d given up on asking him to call you by your name a very long time ago. 

“Hi, John,” you reached out to shake his hand and cringed internally when he kissed the back of your hand. 

“Oh honey, who is this?” Patrick immediately lept in, surprising you with his unsubtle passive aggressive tone and ridiculous use of a pet name. 

“You don’t remember me? I swear, we’ve met a few times.” John asked, trying to smile despite clearly being agitated by the presence of competition.

“Some people are more forgettable than others,” he said with a shrug. “How do you know my wife?” He emphasized the word and you pushed down the small inkling of pride you were feeling. Whether it was from watching Patrick try to scare this annoying man away from you, or being so proudly referred to as his wife, you couldn’t be sure.  

“Finally settling down, eh?” he directed at you, then directed his next statement to Patrick. “We went on a date back in the day.”

“It was for that one date auction thing,” you quickly added context, but paused when you took in John’s less than pleased look. He was a large donor at your own family’s nonprofit, and you were sure that your parents wouldn’t be too pleased with you if they found out he pulled out over you hurting his feelings. “We had a lot of fun, though.”

“We definitely did,” he chuckled and smirked. You wanted to punch him in the mouth. “We should definitely do it again sometime.”

It was clear that Patrick was not taking kindly to seeing you be flirted with so brazenly in front of him. Part of you wondered why he would be possessive, since part of your initial deal was that you could see whoever you wanted, even if that happened to be a creepy old man with a lot of money. The other part of you was enjoying seeing him so fired up. Particularly, seeing him fired up over you. 

“Our schedule is just so busy. Between work and us trying to start a family, I just don’t know when we’ll have time to see you again.”

Trying to start a family? That was definitely news to you. Although, the idea didn’t sound awful. Wasn’t it everyone’s dream to start a family with their closest, most dear friend? 

“Well, she knows where to find me, right, honey?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, looking into your glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Now if you don’t mind, my wife and I are going to go check out the exhibit,” Patrick announced, grabbing your hand and taking a step away from John. 

“You two have fun,” he said before clapping Patrick’s shoulder and leaning in to begin a stage whisper. “Make sure you treat her right and cherish her. If you don’t, I might have to swoop in and do so myself.”

He winked at you and you bit back a gag. 

“Don't you worry your wrinkly little head. Nobody lov- cherishes her more than I do,” he theatrically patted his back much like he’d initially done to him. “See you around.”

Did he almost say what you think he almost said? Surely you misheard him, or he was just playing up your relationship to scare away that creepy man. It really wasn’t anything to think twice about. 

Once the two of you had walked away far enough to be out of earshot, you finally addressed what had just happened. “Thank you, bodyguard. You don’t even know how much I despise that man.”

“He seems like he’s the worst,” he agreed with you, looking back over his shoulder. 

“That’s because he is,” you emphasized. “This is so random, but did you mean what you said earlier?”

Patrick suddenly paused, his face going pale like he’d just seen a ghost. You were a little confused by this reaction, as he’d said nothing to warrant that level of fear. 

“Do you actually want to start a family? Obviously not now, while you’re still playing tennis, but maybe eventually? I know we don’t have the most traditional marriage, but, I don’t know. Neither of us are getting any younger, and it might be fun to co-parent with my best friend,” you were clearly rambling now, but luckily, Patrick came in to rescue you for the second time that night. He looked far less aghast now. 

“I would love that,” he said to you with a genuine smile. You matched his with one of your own. 

———

“Do you have any big plans for retirement?” a reporter asked for the final question of the press conference. 

“Mostly just eating a lot of burgers. And maybe learning how to play pickleball,” Patrick responded, never one to give a serious answer to questions that weren’t explicitly about tennis. 

It was a ridiculous note to end on, but it felt right. You’d found that to be the case with most things in your life that pertained to him–most notably your marriage, which ended up being far more than you ever expected it to be.

After the press conference had come to a close, Patrick met you outside by the car, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then leaning down to peck your baby bump. 

“How does it feel to be retired?” you asked, ruffling his hair while he was still bending down.

“It feels like you might divorce me,” he joked. Obviously your marriage deal was only meant to cover the time that he was still playing tennis, but after years of a complicated marriage that suddenly became significantly less complicated once you finally confronted the fact that the two of you very obviously loved each other, it seemed unlikely that your union would end any time soon. 

You glanced down at your baby bump, then back up to him skeptically.  “I hope you’re not being serious.”

“Come on, I never know with you. You’re the one who friendzoned me the entire first year of our marriage!” he exclaimed.

“That was a lifetime ago,” you countered before taking his hands in yours. “If you’re really worried, I have zero intentions of ending our marriage.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” he grinned, stepping away from you. “Let’s get going. I don’t want us to miss our reservation.”

You nodded and obliged, passing him the keys before heading to the passenger side of the car.

Once you sat down, you were overcome with the urge to say something. You had spent so much time bottling up and pressing down your own feelings, that it was now hard to resist letting things out when they came to you. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you blurted. “And I love you. So much.”

Patrick smiled at you genuinely, before his look turned into a slightly more devious one. “I love you so much, too. One might even say I love you more.” 

“Don’t even start with that,” you laughed, not in the mood to have the kind of back and forth with him that you had at least once a week. Considering that you were carrying his child, you were pretty sure that you were the winner of the love competition.  

“Fine. We love each other equally,” he conceded.

“That’s more like it.”

You tried to think back to one specific moment where your marriage had crossed over from being one of convenience, into a union with genuine feelings attached, and realized that you weren’t exactly sure. It could’ve been the first night you spent together, when you’d finally allowed yourself to consider what your relationship might look like beyond a simple friendship, or maybe it was even earlier than that, when you gazed into Patrick’s eyes as you read off your vows. The look of pure adoration he gave you was one that you had grown familiar with throughout the course of your marriage, but you hadn’t realized at the time just how genuine he had been. Or maybe even the moment Patrick asked you in the living room of your apartment, when you’d been the first person he thought of to carry out his ridiculous scheme, and you’d said yes despite every logical part of your brain that screamed at you to say no. 

Whenever it began didn’t particularly matter. What mattered now was that the two of you fully intended to spend the rest of your lives together. 

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 

“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Its probably a combination of things. Also I think we just hear about it more often now with the internet.

It feels like having a dog has gotten way complicated and hard in recent years, posts talking about reactive unsocialized and untrained dogs everywhere but the thing is, was anybody intentionally socializing their dogs before the past couple decades? Are humans just way more isolated? Is it the thing about how you should adopt a rescue instead of buying?

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ lovesick ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1936

he looked unreal, all tanned with his beautiful eyes half closed as he looked down, full lips unconsciously forming a pout. his chest was bronzed and openly displayed for anyone with two eyes and a drooling mouth.

you wanted to eat him alive.

it was supposed to be a peaceful morning at your parents' beach house on the coast but, apparently, your boyfriend chose violence that day. with sleepy eyes and a drowsy appearance, you immediately realized that you accidentally fell asleep while trying to get tanned by the summer sun in the morning. luckily, the book you were reading fell from your grip at some point and didn't leave a funny mark on your stomach for woo-jin to laugh about later.

how can one person be so beautiful, inside and out? was he even real, or will you inevitably wake up to find the space beside you empty, his presence fading with your dreams?

you get goosebumps just imagining it.

feeling your eyes on him, gun-woo looked up from his drawing, a big smile forming on his pink lips.

"you look like shit, babe".

oh wow, what a day to feel loved.

"fuck off". you grumbled while sitting up and picking the book from the floor next to you, gun-woo's eyes never leaving your bikini form. "what took you so long to get here?". you asked him pouty.

"your mother asked me to move the sofa three times so she could do her pilates session in the living room". gun-woo couldn't help but laugh at his answer, never imagining he'd be in this position someday.

it was your first family trip as a couple, and also the first time gun-woo went on a plane and traveled since his school's excursion in 9th grade to say the best. you were happy to see him happy. it was thrilling to see the man in another setting, different from the usual gym clothes or café outings you guys first got to know each other. you considered yourself a good girlfriend, providing these opportunities for both of you while so young, even if gun-woo was paying for basically everything other than the house you were staying. you were a good girlfriend, right?

so why the living hell was he acting so mean towards you?

"i'm sorry about that". you grimaced embarrassingly because of your mother. "just because you have an insane amount of muscle she thinks you're her personal guard". gun-woo laughs. that bright innocent smile that makes his eyes disappear.

fuck you kim geun-woo for being so mean.

"my mom used to say we should never neglect help from others, including offering help in the first place". he tells you with innocence, a sudden wave of sympathy running through his veins strong enough to make him vocalize his thoughts. you were too accustomed with this side of him, being together for almost 6 months. “she also used to say that we always must look for the best in people”.

he was too pure. so why could you only think other things like what was this man saying? and why wasn't he kissing your mouth right now?

you embarrassingly found yourself in this predicament more times than you could count with your boyfriend.

the sound of his voice didn't shake you out of your sleepy daze, looking up at him with eyes full of love and wonder. like a lovesick puppy whose brain didn't seem to register the spoken words, too caught up in its own reverie.

when he didn't get the reply he was hoping for, gun-woo finally put down the pen and paper and leaned closer to you, your knees now touching and you almost choked on your saliva.

you loved him too much. and he was so hot.

“y/n?” he asked softly, placing a hand on top of your lap, the feel of his surprisingly cold hands against your warm skin almost making you shiver.

"i was so worried when i woke up and didn't see you, figured you'd be reading here". his smile continued to be nothing other than soothing, comforting, and exclusive.

exclusive for you and only you.

"woo-jin tried facetiming early this morning but i was still sleeping, i kind of feel bad for him not being able to come this time". he rambles. "and i also feel bad for sleeping so late, i hope your parents don't mind it. yesterday was a good day".

of course it was a good day. it was gun-woo's first ever private flight and you couldn't put your mind around the fact that this man's whole life was a huge unfair exposure to only the bad in life. you wanted to cry suddenly. cry for everything cruel that happened to him. cry for his still pure but poorly scarred heart. cry for his smiles and goodmorning pecks. cry for his fucking six-pack and spy reflexes.

cry because he was yours. exclusively.

without saying a word, you gently pulled his hands away before wrapping yours around his shoulders in a much-needed hug, the love you felt for him overwhelming all your senses. his arms found their place around your waist immediately, pulling his body closer and pouring all his love into you in return.

it was his fault for dating such a crybaby and he knew it, because the second he touched your waist and ribs, the boxer knew you were about to cry because of your uneaving breathing.

gun-woo hesitated for a second, giving your body another squeeze before finally speaking.

"are you okay, princess?" his voice was calm as he gently stroked your hair, knowing damn well you got emotional in the mornings sometimes. his 'bedroom voice' - that's what you called, don't judge - was enough to make your eyes sting, causing you to snuggle closer to his neck with a nod.

"'m okay".

you loved his bedroom voice - again, don’t judge the name you came up with -, it was special for you. it held something ethereal in the fact that he dropped a few octaves to talk to you and only you. the intimacy he could bring only by speaking more calmly to you, everywhere you both were together and tangled in each other's arms like right now.

everything was different. the setting, the weather, the clothes - it made you realize for the very first time in the six months of your relationship that dating itself shouldn't be overwhelming, tiring, or burdensome.

dating should feel like the books you grew up reading and the movies you grew up watching. anything other than that, it didn't belong to you in the first place.

you felt so comfortable in his embrace like you were floating on a fluffy cloud as the sun was slowly disappearing, so warm and safe. it was just the best, being with the man you loved, and nothing could come close to how you were feeling in his presence, surrounded by his unconditional love and care.

fuck, you were sounding like a corny teenager and it was embarrassing.

"y/n, you're going to tell me what's on your mind, aren't you?". the sound of his concern was evident in his voice, reminding you that - even if this man's thighs were the size of your head -, he still was worried and soft on the inside type of boyfriend.

you were his first girlfriend. gun-woo didn't know how to do things usually.

without missing a beat, you looked him in the eye for the question.

"i love you, gunwoo-ya". you started to pour your eyes out for no reason. you blamed the hormones, your mom would blame the weather and woo-jin would blame the books you read but you didn't care.

the corners of his mouth turned up in response, a soft, sincere smile stretching across his face because he was also just that: a lovesick puppy.

"i love you too". gun-woo wasn't expecting that, you could tell. he was too nonchalant for his own good sometimes.

like who the fuck wears pink bright shorts at his parents-in-law’s beach house? WITH NO SHIRT ON.

his eyes were full of love as he looked at you, the sun making the already beautiful landscape even more dazzling as time seemed to stop once more, everything but him disappearing at that moment. not being able to wait any longer, gun-woo then leaned his head up, pouty lips brushing yours teasingly for a moment before connecting in a proper kiss.

his touch was soft and tender, brushing against your mouth as he had so many times before, your tongue darting out to meet his briefly as his arms around your waist pulled you even closer. the sudden change in height since you got up from the bench was a different angle for both of you.

a silent moan escaped your lips as your barely clothed breast brushed against his, giving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue properly inside your mouth for another taste.

his hands squeezed your sides lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to feel good, and just as you were about to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss, he slowly pulled back, making you want his lips more.

a smile appeared on his face at that, the smugness behind it pouting in response. you straddled him so your faces were on the same level and suddenly the boxer went exe.error404

"jagi, your mom-". he spoke, his hot breath hitting your face with each exhale. you smirked at him.

he was so mean.

"how can you act innocent right after sucking my mouth dry a second ago, you monster?".

"but-". oh no. his cheeks were red, wide eyes searching for one of your parents to pop up from nowhere suddenly, hands finding no safe spot to grip at your sides, finally opting to put them in your waist, almost engulfing its whole circumference because of the size of his hands.

when a few moments passed and you still remained in the same state, he finally relented and sealed your lips once more in a quick kiss, one of his hands moving up from your waist to gently caress your swollen lower lip afterward.

“is that what you've been thinking about all this time, baby?". he asked embarrassingly, eyes avoiding your brown ones for all that was worth.

you nodded, your eyes roaming all over his face before reaching out to move some of the hair away from his eyes, gathering his attention.

"sorry, but yes". you pouted, a small smile starting to appear on the boxer's mouth. you could tell he was embarrassed to hear you confess he occupies your mind 24/7 as if he didn’t know that yet. "and that you are so irritably sexy".

not even one second after, gun-woo's hand is covering your mouth with his eyes wide open and a laugh escapes your lips. he instantly mouths for you to be careful.

"i didn't even say anything wrong!". you defend, automatically tracing his scar on the right side of his face like you are already used to, brushing his hair at the end.

"you want sexy time, i know you!". he whisper-shouts, now completely avoiding your gaze. you laughed.

"sorry". you were not. "it's not my fault you're wearing pink shorts! you can't do this to me, you're mean!". you whined on his lap.

"you were crying seconds ago, what happened?!". it was his turn to pout, looking genuinely confused at your change of emotions. "woojin-hyung said you were crazy when you guys first met".

"that old f-". gun-woo covered your mouth again, warning you. "he's lucky he didn't make it here".

this one is for my crybaby girlies i got you don't worry, gun-woo is here to wipe your tears and fuck your brains out - in a loving way. loved imagining beach!gunwoo a little too much.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠

Summary: Being the director and also a single mum of 462818 people at the same time, being shown in Y/N. Y/L/N's newest Instagram post with some special guest

A/N: I really enjoy making these Instagram AU posts, and you will see my inner gremlin appearing lol and İ'll make a second and even third part for it!

Liked by benbarnes, jacktwolfe, aarontaylorjohnson and 5,897,476 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Did they force me to take them on a train ride? Yes. Did I loose a bet? Also yes. So, as a result, I'm broke now. Please start a campaign and funds.🤭🤗

Also, don't let Jack's innocence fool you, that man is a real life Wylan and is a menace to society. He ate 15 burgers. Fuck you 🖕😑

View 623,325 comments

User1: I love how Y/n is the sugar mommy of the cast djskdjsj

User2: The way she is trully the mom apart from being the director. They are like a family 🥰

Y/N: A family that uses me... Cruel, cruel kids. Look at their smiles! They know what they are doing 🥲

freddycarter1: you made us walk under extreme hot weather and left us to die in a desert! It's only fair 😌

Y/N: Shut up Kazzle Dazzle, and eat your burger! And I gave you umbrellas, ıt's enough.

Sab.Memes: Jack ate 15 burgers?! *Chokes on water* HOW CAN HE DO THAT?!

User4: I feel bad for Y/N, she earns money through them and still spend it for them 😂

Y/NFanforever23: She knows guys, she know the power the fans have!

Y/N: I watched people start campaign and cancelling celebrities, ending their whole life. FAN SUPREMACY IS THE ONLY TRUE POWER!! 🫡

Liked by benbarnes, shadowandbone, freddycarter1 and 3,789,968 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Here is a warning: I'm everywhere and I see all of you... Please keep doing God's work by making memes🤭

1. There is a reason why I chose Ben as Darkling, only one reason: He is the ultimate CEO of puppy eyes... A good way to manipulate people because I fell for it. And Leigh and I fought very hard for them to accept him already.

2. Apart from the fact that he killed innocents, manipulated kids and offered one to the Royal family, used many people and created the Fold alonsgide other War crimes... It seems my job is over *drops the mic and leaves the stage to go and write the New script,crying*

3. Real applause for Alina because I would have folded and accepted immediately.

P.S: Ben is getting ready to defend Darkling in his Insta story while avoiding me... And laying over my lap and making me play with his hair.

View 456,982 comments

kittheyounger: When exactly are you going to stop sharing memes of us?

Y/N: Never? You should be grateful I'm not sharing every one of your's fetus photos and the ones I took to blackmail you later :)

archierenaux3: Couldn't be me hehe

Y/N: Keep living in your dreams :) @archierenaux3

User7: She is so real for the third slide 🤣

User9: Ben is so babygirl for her I can't-

User3: The way Y/N just terrorizes the entire cast with those childhood photos is too funny to me 😂

User6: That's some Queen behaviour... another day another slay from Y/N 💯

User1: She is known to have a talent for taking photos when no one sees and notices her so... For all we know, she could take photos of us and we still wouldn't know.

User5: And she only annoys the male cast members... 😌🤔I wonder why she doesn't do the same with others?

Y/N: They are my little babies and precious wives, they could do no wrong 🥰

Benbarnes: Talk about favouritism... And I'm her boyfriend.

Y/N: And they are my wives, so? 🤗

Liked by benbarnes, tchalamet, lilyjcollins, kit.connor and 6,243,125 others

Y/N Y/L/N: Oh, the amount of chaos here... *Sips wine* 🤭🍷

P.S: He came to me crying and asking what was wrong with the fans... I said he was so hot for his own good and now, he refuses to meet my eye because he blushes too much... Sir, you are 41 not 15! Either way, what a cutie 😌🤭

View 746,923 comments

benbarnes: you promised to not share these!

Y/N: Haven't you learnt nothing is safe with me?

BenandY/N.mommy: I CANT- Y/N IS FEEDING US AND I LIVE FOR IT

User5: Poor Shadow Daddy... Show us more.🫣

User3: The cast once said that Ben blushes the most when Y/N is near or the one who compliments him... My heart can't take it!

User6: I want what they have! ❤️

User3: They both had become so good to each other, especially Y/N... Seeing my baby happy makes me cry tears of joy 🥹

User6: I hope they will get married already! We need little Y/L/N- Barnes in our lives 🥲

User4: When can I get a Y/N or Ben in my life?

User2: And just like that, I'm scared for what's waiting for us and Matthias in SaB season 3...

User1: ıf people doesn't know... Y/N is very good at drama and slicing our hearts and squeezing it painfully with her emotional scenes and talent for shooting those scenes just... Diferrently.

User3: We are doomed... Like girl, who hurt you that much?

Y/N: Trauma, tears, sadness and more trauma are what's waiting for yall probably... Sorry🫣 And I love watching and reading heartwrenching things in general, no one hurt me so don't come at Ben😄😇

benbarnes: Thanks love... Your fans scare me...

User1: Suddenly, ıt's a need to see Kaz and Monopoly together

Y/N: You wouldn't want that... Freddie gets too absorbed in his character and we thought it was a good idea to do this... It didn't turn out well

User5: The way Ben is scared of Y/N's fanbase is very funny... *Evil laugh* Sir, you are dating our girl, millions are after your ass as soon as we see a tear on her pretty face 🙎🔪

Liked by benbarnes, kittheyounger, amitasuman_, freddycarter1 and 10,895,675 others

Y/N Y/L/N: This cast had become my everything, all these amazing people changed me in the best way possible and I'm grateful to have met them. I'm known to always share funny things but today, I wanted to show my love and appreciation. I'm thankful for accepting the offer to direct and also take a role in this amazing job. Thank you for inspiring me to be a better version of myself, thank you for changing my life for the better and thank you for trusting me. shadowandbone :)

Thank you for the backstage workers who always gossipped with me and did their very best and made me fangirl at their job

Thank you for convincing me and holding a gun to my temple to accept this job and also writing this amazing book universe @lbardugo 🫡❤️ I'm hoping to talk to you soon again!

But the biggest thank you is for my dear boyfriend @BenBarnes. Thank you for always supporting me and loving me. Thank you for holding me when I needed, trusting me when I didn't and lifting me up with your dad jokes and thank you for being you. I'm the most grateful for you, and that won't change. I love you and your goofy personality even though you ate my last cookie 🥲❤️

Oh and a final note? These people and these pictures? Let the Fold take me :) shadowandbone

shadowandbone: A toast for the best director ever! We are glad to have someone like you! And there is no way out of the Fold :)

User6: The way she always includes everyone, down until the very last person in backstage is... Her heart is so amazing and her soul is so pure🥹

User2: You just know that they all love her so much.. Thank you for accepting and thank you for bringing our dream book to life Y/N 🥹

lbardugo: I wouldn't want anyone except you to this! You have so much potential and I was at ease knowing that the show was in good hands... Love you so much and İ'll eagerly wait for your other projects 🥹🥰 And I'm waiting for that meeting to, love! Just don't forget to spend time with Ben, he sulks like a puppy later 😂

Y/N: Thank you so much... OMG I'm crying at all the sweet messages now but you can be sure I'll spend all my time with him!

amitasuman_: We love you, Y/N! You are the best and thank you for always making sure we were fine and comfortable! Now, I'm off to cry🥹

Jessie_mei_li: Thank you for being you! I wouldn't have gotten a bestfriend like you if you hadn't accept!❤️ Thank you for assembling all of us, Queen of Fantasy!

freddycarter1: and also accidently adopt all of us in some ways...

User5: the whole Shadow and Bone cast looking at their director with heart eyes are making me jdkshdqkvwu🥰💞❤️😍🥺

User4: YEAH, THEY ARE SO LOVELY WITH EACH OTHER! BUT! Have you seen how Ben looks at her? I have been manifesting a man like hım over a decade now...

User1: Do you think she saw that fifth slide on Ben's Insta??

User4: Definetly! I wonder what her reaction was like...

Y/N: I was a Darklina hater my whole life until Jessie and Ben ruined it for me and made me just turn a blind eye... I regret making them shoot that scene but also not.

User2: OMG SHE ANSWERED

User1: she always does, another reason to live, laugh and love Y/N. Hı, Y/N!

Y/N: Hi, love! And btw yes, that video woke something in me... Which payed off iykyk 🤭

User6: when I learnt the whole cast, mainly Ben, was begging her to make a Marauders series is just... Wow... I hope she does that, she is the only one who could pull that!

User1: Remember when she said she would break the Net when the time comes? Might be it, who knows?🤔

User3: She also said she wasn't letting any of the cast go like that and had plans for every one of them... And that they were her slaves and had to do anything she told them lol

User4: People trust her with book adaptation because she always stays loyal to it, while also adding something from herself. It's normal everyone wants her to work on every book adaptation possible

User2: I wonder who she prefers the most: Kaz or Darkling?🤔

User5: Ben is her boyfriend so I think she would say Darkling because he would pout otherwise

User6: But she also said she often giggled and blushed while reading Kaz's point of view and specifically begged Freddy to audition

Y/N: The true question is: Are you a fan of terrifying blue eyes or deep, empty black eyes?

benbarnes: I'm forever lucky and grateful to have met you and be your boyfriend. I can never be proud enough of you since you have a habit of always exceeding yourself. I'll always be by your side through thick and thin, just as you do every day. You are my beautiful and succesfull girlfriend, my rock when I need you, my bestfriend when I need a good laugh and my other half and there is no enough words to explain my feelings but I'll stick to this one: I love you always. liked by Y/N Y/L/N

User1: And that's how you get away with eating a lady's last cookie 😂

User3: I'm not crying ıt's just their love in my eyes that stings 🥹

User5: I swear there is nothing I want more than see them getting married 😭

[jiwon1es]

I see Yujin taking such good care of kids like I imagine her getting along so well with your neice or nephew or smth like that🥺 She would also be an amazing mom and a great gf to reader who alr has a kid 😔 I jst love her sm 😔🤭

- I wanna be your 🐸 anon

pairing: wife!yujin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

hi 🐸 anon! i changed a little bit, hope that's okay! i hope you like this, this was really really cute.

yujin has the kindest heart of all, it was no surprise. everyone gets dragged in to her, her beautiful energy being so contagious that no matter where you are you just want to be near her and that was one of the things that got you head over heels for her, even starting to think if it’s really possible for someone like her to exist. she was so charismatic, even your family was enchanted! always asking questions like “when does she come back?”, “is she staying?”, “how is yujin doing?”. it was inevitable to think about a future with her. she was so nice to everyone, and everything took a turn the moment you saw her playing with your little cousins at a family dinner. she kept her brightest smile on her face while hearing the little kids laugh so hard at her jokes. maybe it was too soon to be picturing her with the kids of your own, but how could you not?

“she is so pretty! can she be my girlfriend too?” the little kid asked with anticipation at you. everyone was laughing at him.

“absolutely not! she’s yn’s!” his twin defended your girlfriend, hugging her tightly and making sure her brother won’t get closer.

“how come you be so patient with them? i barely can do it myself.” you ask, staring at the girls hugging with adoration.

“i don’t know, they’re just so cute and remind me of you.” you giggle, grabbing the glass of water in front of you and drinking. “who knows, maybe years later you will be carrying little ahn.” and you choked.

at your 19, talking about a family or even a future together was a big topic. both of you were still so young and you never liked to think about the future without feeling empty or scared at the road ahead, but somehow… being right by her side made everything look nice, no longer feeling worried or lost. so, it was still crazy to even imagine it, but it wasn’t that bad. you were actually dying for the day you could call ahn yujin your wife.

then, it happens. your eyes can’t leave the view in front of them and you can’t stop thinking about how did all of that happen. the litte girl’s laughter is filling your ears like a melodic song, praying for your wife’s hands to stop tickling her.

“mommy! please help me!” she calls you, laughing and trying to escape from the embrace.

“if mommy ever dares to help you… she’s gonna fall too!” and your daughter screams.

“how can this monster go away?” you ask, pretending to be worried. you see how they stop fighting, both of them waiting for you to jump in.

“kisses!” your daughter yells.

“yeah kisses!” yujin supports your daughter’s decision. of course your wife would never stop being a cute puppy totally in love with you, desperate for your love and affection.

“is that so?” you cross your arms, genuinely curious about what can set your daughter free. you step closer and yujin caught once again the little girl in her arms.

“kiss her!”

yujin was happily waiting for the kiss, with her eyes closed and trying not to smile. then, you place your hands on her face, pulling her in for the kiss. a squeak can be heard from the little girl that is now jumping excited at the sight of her two moms kissing. now she is free to go, but decides to stay and try to separate the two of you.

“mommy! what if she traps you?” yujin laughs, because that’s exactly what she wants to do.

[sushiwriterhere]

pink light

summary: "He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?”  rating: teen + up pairing: jake seresin x f!reader (unrequited) word count: ~4k warnings: unrequited love, angst, potentially ooc!, no use of y/n.  notes: this is my first fic in a long while and my first attempt at top gun/writing hangman. also incredibly self indulgent and therapeutic – please feel free to tell me what you think!!! not beta'd <3 after some consideration, I have decided I will not be writing a second part to this fic.

If you had to describe your relationship with Jake Seresin, how you knew him, you’d probably say friends since childhood, fellow military brats, maybe even Thing 1 and Thing 2. You two were inseparable from the moment your parents introduced you. Despite any worries about Jake being a few years older, he took you under his wing. There you stayed–ever his dutiful shadow. He’d invite you to parties, let you sit on the sidelines during sports practices, field snide comments about your relationship. 

Now, here you were however many years later, having followed him to Fightertown after a brief stint of separation during college and him in flight school. You’d followed your parents desires dutifully, getting a degree in something ‘useful’ and maintained a slew of internships, part time jobs, and your studies all at the same time. But all you ever really wanted was a routine, a quieter place in the world. Your classmates went off to graduate school, first-year positions at big consulting companies, and all you wanted to do was be near Jake.

To his credit, he’d taken it completely in stride. He’d helped you apartment hunt and settle in, had talked to Penny about getting you a job and so there you were, reunited again. Except something was different. 

It was a secret to absolutely no one that you loved Jake, deeply. At first your parents had laughed quietly at the puppy love, the way you quietly followed him around, blinking owlishly behind your glasses and just nodding along to whatever he was blabbering on about at the time. Then it was a bit less funny, watching Jake go through high school and all of a sudden be tall, blonde, and handsome. You didn’t really have the words for what you felt, so you just watched as he had girlfriend after girlfriend, each of them treating you with a range of emotions from kindness to outright disdain. 

It had been especially bad once–you’d been asked out as a joke by one of the more popular kids in your grade. You’d shyly accepted before being met by laughter that echoed around the hallways, everyone turning to look (if they weren’t observing already). 

Your mom picked you up early that day. 

“I’m going to beat his ass.” Jake burst through your bedroom door, interrupting your quiet sniffling and causing you to jump with surprise, “Tell me who it is and I’ll fix it.”

You paused your crying to force out, “It’s fine, Jake.”

The scowl on his face was as dark as a thousand nights, “Oh it absolutely is not. I’ll make his life a living hell next year.”

And there he was, saving the day as always. You’d cried harder that night after he left, apologizing but he “had a date” that he couldn’t miss, not even for you. He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?

So when you and Jake had drifted slightly during his time in flight school and your eventual transition to college, there again was that feeling. Like you were watching your own life on an old TV, trying to tune the frequency and always coming back in in the middle of the plot, not sure where you were supposed to be and with whom. The calls became infrequent, more apologies than actual conversation. Then the first deployment happened, and the letters were brief, impersonal. 

Somehow, even now, in the same town, in an apartment not far from base, from where he lived, you felt like there was a part of the story you were missing. You tried not to let it gnaw at you but seeing him come to the Hard Deck with his buddies, sitting there on the sidelines for beach football, seeing how close he had gotten with the other fighter pilots in your absence–now that stung. 

But you had to focus on the everyday, the constants.

“That better not be a phone on my bar!” Penny’s voice rang out over the din of the shouting in the bar, and you felt yourself laugh as you watched Mav’s face turn bright red. 

“I’d be happy to re-open that tab of yours, Maverick.” You grinned at him, and he shook his head.

“I knew I should’ve stopped Hangman from talking Penny into hiring you, you’re more on her side than mine.” You smiled at the man, glad for his presence–besides you knew he didn’t mean it. 

Your parents were far away, and though they loved you, they were always just a bit detached. Military parents just tended to be like that in your experience. So having Mav and Penny around really made Fightertown feel like home. And certainly, having Jake around didn’t hurt at all (despite the distance). 

And like speaking the name of the devil, over the chaos you heard your name–Jake.

“How’s my favorite bartender doing?” You’d never get over that smile of his, the one he reserved for you (at least you hoped). It was all teeth, crinkles by his eyes, and joy. 

You shook your head, “No matter how much you flatter me, I’m not giving you free beer.”

“You wound me,” the smile never faltered, “But I’m actually not here for a free drink. I’m here for all that worldly wisdom that you gain by being a bartender. Psych’s of the drinking world, something like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you poured a gin and tonic without sparing him a glance, “A major in psychology does not count as me being a psychologist, Jake.”

“Ah, see, but you’re also a woman, so that means you’re qualified to help me out.” This time, he wasn’t looking at you when you turned your attention to him. 

Look, you weren’t dumb. You’d understood since his early high school years that Jake had become a very handsome, very charming man. He’d always been cute, and you’d always thought he had a certain air about him, but somehow shooting up to a solid six-foot and spending all his time in the gym had really done it for every other woman ever. And the string of girlfriends, one night stands in between, never stopped. So you just resigned yourself to nodding along. 

Absolutely nothing about that part of Jake had changed in flight school or beyond, apparently. And he seemed determined to make his way through the female population of Fightertown. For what it was worth, at least he never let them think anything of him but exactly what he was offering–a good time, and nothing else. That’s what he wanted and what they gave him. So him asking for advice from you because you were a woman? That made something clench tight in your chest and grit your teeth just a bit. 

“So now I’m a dating guru?” A rum and coke with a smile to the patron who didn’t even glance at Jake, “Here’s your card, sir, enjoy your evening.”

When you finally made eye contact with him, he just had one eyebrow raised in that incredibly irritating way of his, “Uh, no. But you have feelings and you like poetry and shit, so I need your help.”

If there was one thing that Jake’s string of one night stands was good for, it was letting you maintain your silly daydream of him wisening up one day and seeing you the way you saw him. This, however, felt like a punch in the stomach, like someone had come in the middle of the night and stolen all the spouts off every liquor bottle in the Hard Deck. You wouldn’t necessarily be flying blind during an evening of pouring drinks, but there would be a lot of spillage and a really high chance of tears. 

“I’m not helping you manipulate some poor girl, Jacob.” The full name card; his eyebrow lowered a smidge, “Besides, why don’t you ask Phoenix? She’s a woman.”

He groaned and slumped over on the bar. Gross. You hadn’t had a chance to wipe it since the start of the evening rush, and that had been a very, very, long time ago. You ignored his mini moping session, hoping he’d give up asking you about poetry (what the hell?) and feelings. This was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now. 

Instead, he just stood straight up after a few moments of grumbling, smile intact as ever, “Phoenix doesn’t count, I’m pretty sure her dick is bigger than mine. But you’ll help me right? C’mon, where’s the Bug I know? You used to do anything I’d ask you to.”

A low blow, your childhood nickname. It still stung sometimes that he called you that–you hadn’t been ‘bug-eyed’ since freshman year of high school since you refused to put your middle school glasses back on and your parents had relented and let you get contacts. 

You huffed, “Leave me alone, Jake, I have to work.” You bent over to start breaking up the blocks of ice in the cooler by your feet, if only to hide the way your face was bright red. 

He slapped the bar counter, signaling his retreat, at least for now. This was not going to end well. 

-

Not going to end well? That was the understatement of the year. Whichever girl Jake had his eyes on now was clearly different from the others. He hung around after your shift to annoy you again, and this time he would not take no for an answer. Following you around as you closed, he lifted kegs and moved twenty pound bags of ice, all the while managing to maintain a monologue all about this girl. At some point you almost considered breaking a beer bottle over his head if only to get him to stop talking for ten seconds. 

“Listen, just this once, okay? I just really want your help. Tell me what to do.” How was his voice carrying from where he was under the pool table, scraping gum off the underside. “God, this is fucking disgusting–Penny makes you do this every night? It looks like this hasn’t been cleaned since she bought it.”

Penny actually pretended she couldn’t see the nasty shit stuck under the pool tables, but Jake was annoying you enough that it didn’t matter. Anything to get him to stop asking you for advice about this girl. 

“Please shut the fuck up or go home.” The sound of you throwing a wet rag into the bucket by your feet echoed throughout the empty bar. 

You’d had enough. At this point it was almost four in the morning and all you wanted was to lay down for the next forty-eight hours and not think about anyone or anything. 

His head popped out from underneath the table with a look of surprise. You usually didn’t tell him off, at least seemingly content with letting him prattle on about whatever he felt. There was a good flow, sometimes he’d listen to you complain and other times he’d rest his cheek on the bartop and talk about a particularly bad flight drill. This was clearly different.

You hoped you didn’t look as exasperated as you felt, but you saw the sag in his shoulders at your expression, “Right. Sorry.”

You hated it when he did that–you knew it wasn’t on purpose but it took all the air out of the room when he was upset. But this time you were upset enough that you ignored the tug in your stomach at the heavy silence in the room. 

“Look, I’m finished closing here, and I just really want to go home.” 

The two of you maintained an uneasy silence as you shut off the lights and locked the doors behind you. You did your best not to meet his eyes, the overhead lights of the parking lot casting funny shadows on his face that made him look much younger than he actually was. Sometimes you thought you couldn’t breathe when he looked like that–like when you’d first met, attention always focused on you as you followed him around. 

“I upset you. I’m sorry.” His lips were pursed in a flat line, but he was looking at you like he was trying to understand something. 

Suddenly, the gravel beneath your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. That was, until he pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tight. There he was, enveloping you, burying you in the smell of something so distinctly Jake it made you dizzy with want and hope. 

“It’s okay. Drive me home?” 

You felt him nod against your head, and you silently let him go. His arms didn’t drop from your shoulders until a few moments later. He always did that and somehow it was the worst and best thing in your life. 

-

It wasn’t until your shift the next day that what had transpired between you two hit you fully watching him act sheepish and lay it on thick for who he was evidently asking you about. She was beautiful–tan skin, a wide smile, and bright eyes. Her laugh sounded like music and she was dressed just right, like she was putting in effort but still casual enough for a bar like the Hard Deck. 

You wanted to be sick. Scream, cry, whatever it took. Again, you weren’t entirely naive, but Jake had never made it so obvious to you. There had always been an ocean, an eight hour flight–something, anything, separating your realities. He’d always maintained that you were someone special to him but this felt like your world was shattering in front of your eyes. 

It was embarrassing to admit, but at least the high school girlfriends and the one night stands were easy enough to watch pass by. You two moved around too much for any high school sweetheart nonsense, and by the way Jake made flight school sound, he was clearly more focused on being top of his class than anything else. 

At the very least, the universe seemed to pity you if only for the moment. The Hard Deck was incredibly busy on a Friday night, and it only took a few patrons to block your line of sight to your worst nightmare. You worked on autopilot, letting muscle memory and the part of your brain that excelled at customer service take over. In your head, though, you were about to lose it.

All you could see was him leaning close to her, clearly whispering something hilarious into her ear, and her throwing her head back in laughter. The way his hand pressed into her waist made you sick.

It was only after closing, after everyone had been sent home, that you let yourself exhale. Sinking to the ground behind the bar, you buried your face in your hands, reeking of alcohol and all. It took everything in your not to completely break down–you still felt a few stray tears slip out. God, you were so stupid. So young, so naive. 

In that moment it didn’t feel like you had ever moved past that wide eyed six year old meeting Jake for the first time. You’d had boyfriends, kissed a few strangers, but they’d all faded into a sort of background noise whenever compared to Jake. But in that moment, it felt like you were finally hearing the beginning, middle, and end of the conversation.

Beginning: You were Jake’s little shadow, always two steps behind, always tripping over yourself to keep up. 

Middle: At some point, Jake grew up, and you didn’t. 

End: Jake was not in love with you. 

-

Penny took one look at your face when you walked in for your Saturday shift and immediately tried to send you home, “Even if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not letting you work when you look about three seconds from bawling.”

It stung but she was right. You’d gone home after Friday’s shift and sobbed yourself to sleep. Jake had tried to call in the middle of the day Saturday and you sent him to voicemail. That of course prompted several more calls, all to voicemail, and at least six text messages, all of which you left unanswered. You half expected him to show up at your place and breakdown the door, but he didn’t show. Whether that was worse or better, you hadn’t decided yet.

“Penny, I’m–Look, I’m fine. I’d actually really prefer to work, I need the distraction.” You did your best at a smile, truly hoping she would buy it. 

She narrowed her eyes at you, and gave you a once-over. By the grace of something bigger than the universe, she let you pass her into the back so you could clock in. 

You knew Jake would be here, but you just kept your head down, hoping that would somehow protect you. It was actually Phoenix who found you first, tucked in the back taking a breather from running cups and bottles of liquor so you wouldn’t have to talk to customers. 

She called your name softly and offered a small smile, “Hey, there you are.”

Phoenix and you had always gotten along. She was always sweet to you, always ribbing on the guys on your behalf, and defending you from any creep who decided to try and make a move. But she was also always dangerously observant, and you could tell that this time would be no different.

So despite everything going on around you two, she crouched down beside you, and began pulling everything out of you the way she always did, “I can tell something’s wrong. And I know it’s because of Hangman.”

That was all it took–slapping a hand over your mouth, you felt the sob rise in your throat. Clearly alarmed, she grabbed your other hand and tugged you out back, doing her best to avoid the eyeline of the other fighter pilots. Once out in the dark you sank into the sand and she rubbed your back soothingly as you let your emotions pour out. 

You left no stone unturned, spilling every part of your heart out to her. How you had been in love with Jake probably since the beginning, how you’d waited on the sidelines for your moment, how you’d gone to college on the other side of the country hoping it would help, how the distance felt like an old battle wound. And through it all, she sat and listened thoughtfully. 

“I think you should talk to him. Hangman-” She stopped herself, “Jake shouldn’t be making you feel like this, honey, no one should. But he won’t know unless you tell him.”

Despite it all, you were a romantic. When you had your first middle school crush (other than Jake) you’d marched right up to him and told him straight to his face. You went on your first date because you asked. It never made any sense when looking at every other part of you, but love was just something you couldn’t keep to yourself. Other than Jake. 

“You should talk to him.”

“Phoenix?” There he was, calling your name, “Guys? What’s going on?”

He thundered down the back stairs of the Hard Deck, shaking sand everywhere, his silhouette blocking out the light from the bar. When he spotted you kneeling in the sand with Phoenix at your side, his shoulders sagged. 

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He stopped short by Phoenix and they seemed to have some sort of wordless conversation because she stood and he plopped himself down in her stead.

You wouldn’t look at him. The world felt too big and too small at the same time, like the universe was crashing down on your head and the only thing you could manage to do was let it happen. Phoenix, that traitor, pressed her lips to your head, and walked back into the bar. 

There it was, that part of you that just couldn’t hold back its feelings rearing its ugly head. Except this time it wouldn’t be a schoolyard rejection, it wouldn’t be an awkward pizza date, it would be the end of something bigger than yourself. For a moment, you let yourself bask in what you knew, deep down, was the end of what you had been, and an uncomfortable start to where you would go. 

“Well, I clearly did something.” Jake wasn’t looking at you either–he was looking at the ocean and fiddling with a drink straw. 

“You, uh, well,” You cleared your throat, “It’s not really your fault.”

“Bug, you have like a thousand missed calls from me and probably a thousand more missed texts.” 

The tears were coming again–guilt, fear, sadness, all pouring out of you. You imagined him pacing around his apartment, wearing a hole in the carpet, trying to reach you. You imagined him calling Phoenix and asking for advice. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that my line?” He turned to look at you, clearly hoping cracking a joke would ease the tension–no such luck. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” He stilled beside you. 

“Bug, I don’t–I can’t fix what I did if you won’t tell me.” He was looking back at the ocean, the drink straw now some sort of complicated sailor’s knot.

Swallowing roughly, you figured it was now or never, truly. You closed your eyes, pretending that this moment would be different, that what you were about to say would bring an outcome different than it really would. Maybe in another universe there would be a Jake who saw you as someone other than a younger sibling, his little shadow. 

“I love you, Jake. And there’s nothing that can fix that aside from time.”

He was quiet. There it was. 

“I’m sorry,” He dropped the nickname, using your real name, “I didn’t realize. I must’ve really hurt you with all that poetry shit.”

You felt hollow, numb from every fingertip to your core, “Right.”

“You’re brave, Bug, braver than I’ll ever be. But, I can’t–I’m not that person for you, I’m sorry.” His voice sounded thick with emotion. “I can give you space, whatever you need. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you just sat next to him, looking out at the ocean. The moon was clear in the sky, Fightertown always maintaining a balmy, clear sky. Here you were, having followed your first, and one true, love across the country. None of it felt real. 

“Thank you, Jake. It’ll take time, but I’ll be fine.” You looked at him for the first time, truly, since things had started unraveling. 

He looked so human, so tired, under the moonlight. It pained you, but for a moment you felt that flicker in your chest, the one you felt whenever he distanced himself, the one that reminded you how human he was. He hadn’t been that little boy for a long, long time. Your days of swingsets and bike rides and childhood inside jokes were past. 

There was some part of you that knew you would be able to breathe again, if not now then in a week, a month, a year. He’d get deployed again, you’d settle back into your routine at the Hard Deck. You’d find your person, like he clearly had. 

And it was time for you to accept that.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not walking my dog with my neighbor anymore? 

I (20sNB) graduated from my masters program in 2019 and moved back home with my parents. It was meant to be temporary, but before I could save up enough to move out, the pandemic hit. I ended up living with my parents until late 2022. During that time I was responsible for walking our dog. I ended up meeting and connecting with a handful of other dog owners in the neighborhod and we would walk our dogs together and let them play together at a local dog park.  

One of these dog owners, C (70sF) turned out to live right around the corner from me, so we started walking our dogs together very often. Her dog has always been a bit domineering, and my dog has always been a bit submissive. But for a long time they played together very nicely. They would run and chase each other and play with the toys we brought to the park for them. Sometimes they would play fight, but I could always tell from my dog’s body language that she was having fun, and wasn’t actually feeling threatened or scared. 

Of course, C and I also ended up bonding. She’s a retired kindergarten teacher, and she’s very, very nice and kind, and I would consider her a friend. We now exchange baked goods on holidays and she sends me birthday and christmas cards now that I don’t live down the street from her. And since I moved out, whenever I came to my parents’ house to visit, I would call her up so we could walk the dogs together and catch up. 

However, a few months ago, while my mom was walking our dog at the dog park, a different, even worse behaved dog, attacked and bit her. This attack was bad enough to draw blood, and my mom had to take her to the vet and get her on antibiotics and everything to make sure it didn’t get infected. Plus, the dog we had before this one, got sick and almost died because of a bite from an unvaccinated dog, so this was pretty scary for us. But it ended up being okay. No infections and the wounded healed well. But ever since then, our dog, who previously was very social and good with other dogs (we took her to obedience school as a puppy, so she was socialized very early on) has become much more nervous around other dogs, especially new dogs.

We’re trying really hard to resocialize her, and she’s slowly getting better. She still sometimes growls at new dogs, though. Which brings us back to my neighbor and her dog. Her dog is poorly socialized, and growls and barks at other dogs. I know my neighbor tries her best to fix her dog’s behavioral issues and has even worked with specialized dog trainers to no avail. But I’ve noticed that my dog is much more likely to growl at other dogs when we walk with C and her dog, because C’s dog growls. Not only that, but I’ve noticed that when they play together, my dog doesn’t enjoy it anymore. Now, her body language does read as threatened and afraid when C’s dog play fights (C’s dog is a boxer, which means she loves to play fight.) 

So, I’ve started not calling C when I’m in town. I feel guilty about it because I really like C and avoiding her feels like a shitty thing to do. I feel like I'm basically ghosting her. But I know if I reach out to her, she’ll bring up walking the dogs together. Walking the dogs is the entire basis of our friendship and the only reason we spend time together, so I can hardly tell her I don’t want to do that anymore. 

AITA? I just want to take care of my dog, and right now walking with C is not only causing my dog unnecessary stress, it’s re-enforcing bad habits that I am trying really hard to break.

What are these acronyms?

[evans23]

Daughter of mine IV

Pairing : Judge Turpin x Daughter OC

Summary : Richard Turpin, the High Judge of London, indulges is young daughter for a stroll in the snow.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : A bit of angst. Mention of prostitution and death. Mention of children being beaten. Awkward father. If I forget something, please mention it to me !

A/N: Hello dear 😁 It was lying around among my unpublished writings, so here it is, for you.

Part I - Part II - Part III

Also read on AO3

It was the first snow in London. They had arrived sooner than usual, in the first week of December, yet it was there for Richard's desperation. He hated winter, carols, Christmas, but more than anything else the coldness which accompanied the worst month of the year. The snow was the last straw to put him in the worst mood. 

He hated the snow for several reasons, the first being that he had to go to work with the sleigh rather than on foot. In fact, he could have walked, but he abhorred walking on the snow. and feel his legs sink into this white powder.

The second things he hated about the snow was that after one hours or more after the world had waken up, it wasn't white and pure anymore but rather a disgusting slush, dirtying his beloved Courthouse and his mansion.

Last but not least, he had some bad memories related to that kind of weather. The memory of a father lashing out his anger on him and his brother after both of them had played the whole day in the backyard, happy to throw to each other snowballs and building up snowmen. After that day, where his father had beaten them with his belt for no good reason at all, he had started to hate that white carpet that all children loved.

And, how unfortunate he was, when he came down to eat his breakfast with his daughter, to see that joyful glint in her eyes at the view of the snow. She was looking through the window, Arthur in her arms, with delight. 

"Dad, please, can I be dispense with my lessons today ?" she asked, her eyes full of hopes. 

"Well, if only you were able to line up a correct sentence, like a true lady should, then maybe I could oblige you," he said seriously.

He had said that to tease her, more than anything as he had granted her that right the moment she had asked for it. She had started to call him dad some months ago. He didn't know where the word came from as in his world, children addressed their parents with the proper title of mother and father. Yet, he hadn't had the heart to correct her and since then, she had understood that this simple word could help her to obtain anything from the man. Yes, she had inherited the beauty and kindness of her mother, but she definitely had a lot of her father in her too. 

"Please, dad," she begged him with her most convincing puppy eyes, "I've never had the chance to play in the snow."

"Is that so ?" 

"I couldn't go out when mom wasn't home. And when she was home, she was too tired or too sick to come out and play with me."

Richard felt a pang of sadness at this statement. Catherine never talked too much about her life with her mom. He knew that she had a loving mother, who had famished herself to provide food to her daughter and also that, even though she had sold her body to provide to their needs, she had always protected her daughter from that sinful world. Catherine , who had had her birthday the month before, was innocent in every sense of the word and Turpin was decided to keep it like that. Never should she knows the true about her beloved mother. 

"Well, as I don't work today, I thought a little girl could be desirous to spend the day with her father, but maybe have I been wrong," teased Richard, preventing a small smile to grace his lips.

She turned sharply towards him, her eyes widened with pleasure.

"For real ? We can spend the whole day together ?"

"Indeed. What if we took Hector for a walk ?" he proposed.

Hector was the puppy he had gifted her for her birthday. At the time, during the weekend, he read The Iliad from Homer in the parlour for several hour after their supper. Often until she fell asleep. As he didn't have many occasions during the week to participate in her bed time routine, he wanted her to be bath and in her bed clothes before his lecture to be able to put her in bed once she was fast asleep. He carried her to her bed as if she weighed nothing, which was the case, where he tucked her in and surrounded her with her many stuffed animals. He couldn't fathom why she was so passionate about Hector, who died quite stupidly between the hands of Achille, yet, she had insisted to name the dog after the mythological Prince. 

"Oh yes, thank you father !"

She prompted towards the door, but Richard held her back with one hand on her shoulder.

"Breakfast first ! You need to eat to become strong and to stay in good health."

She obeyed him and joined him in the table to share the deliciousness the cook had prepared for them. Richard was still concerned about her weigh. She had gained some since she was living with him, yet she was still to thin for his taste. Elena, her mother, had some pretty curve, even though she wasn't fat, yet she was still well in flesh and himself wasn't the sveltest one, therefore, Catherine shouldn't have such a frail constitution. 

His personal doctor had examined the girl several time, and he hadn't noticed anything wrong about her. He had reminded Richard that she had grown up under bad conditions, and more than often, kids who were living below the breadline had the tendency to be smaller and thiner than their peer. He had advised Richard not to worry too much and in a few years, she would probably be in better shape with all the good care she was provided with in the mansion. 

He had frowned upon the physician's word when he had told him that he was worrying too much for the child. How a father could worry too much for his offspring ? 

Yet, Catherine was an easy child. She didn't disobey too much, exception done for some childish mischief that he had never felt necessary to punish, at least not in the way his own father would have done. In fact, he had strangely felt relief when she started to act like a child of her age. It meant she felt at ease with her surrounding and at home in the manor. Also, for Richard's greatest pride, her nightmares had begun to diminish and she no longer asked to have her room lit at night. Nevertheless, a candle was always lit in the corner of the room, just in case.

When she had finished to eat, he rang for her maid, ordering her to help Catherine to cloth warmly, then, he charged the butler to notify Catherine's tutors their services wasn't needed for the day. And for the next day. After all, she had deserved some day off as she was a very assertive students, always willing to do her best and progressing faster than expected. 

"Dad ! I'm ready," shot Catherine, Hector on her heels. Him too was ready to cool his paws in the snow. 

They walked along the Thames, Hector bouncing happily beside them, while Catherine held Richard's hand into her tiny one. Richard wasn't a man to display his affection publicly, yet, he didn't have the heart to hurt the child by wringing his hand free. Anyway, everybody in the High Society knew he had a daughter, even though they didn't know anything about her background. Yet, no one dared asking question. He was Richard Turpin, The High Judge of The London Court of Justice, The Death's Judge. No one had to question him. Was she adopted, was she a bastard, was she a ward ? No one would dare mingling in his business on that matter or any other one. She was Catherine Elena Turpin and that was it. And if anyone dared dig into his daughter's past or his, The Beadles was there to take care of the inappropriate and stupid person. No colony for them. No mercy. A hanging under a crime The Beadles found appropriate. 

"Dad, can we go to the park ?"

Richard frowned. He knew far too well why she wanted to go to the park. To socialise. A trait she had inherited from her mother, definitely. Not that he was against the idea the girl made some friends, but certainly not with the lower class of London, whose children were closer to little demons than real human beings. 

He had already scolded her governess to bring her in those parks after he heard Catherine talk some slang she had picked up from them. Dad was his only tolerance because... well because he feigned ignoring where she had learnt the world and because it always warmth is cold heart, imprisoned into a block of indestructible ice when she said that soft word in her trembling voice. 

If Richard was more honest, he would admit that the girl had fought her way into his icy prison of a heart and made herself comfortable in there. But never would he admit it, for that would be a sign of weakness and Richard was anything but weak. 

"What if we had some tea, instead ?"

He subtly asked to change her mind about the park. She beamed at him and his shoulders slumped in relief. What would the common people but worst, what the upper class would say if he, the High Judge of London, was seen in a park full of paupers, letting his child play with the scruffy and ill-bred children of the local oafs ?!

Fortunately, Catherine was easy to convince. Indeed, he had taken her a few months earlier to one of the finest tea room in town where he was to meet a judge with who he worked regularly to settle some secret business. The little girl had promised to behave and remain silent until the end of the encounter between her father and the other man. As a reward for her good manners, they had spent the rest of the afternoon together, having tea and eating mini cakes. 

Richard had seen it as a good opportunity to make her practise the delicate exercise of going out in public and drinking and eating in style, where Catherine had only seen it as a pleasurable experience at spending some time alone with her father. That evening, she had been rambling on and on and on to her maid about how pleased she was with her day, and Anne, the head maid, had subtly hinted to Turpin that it was something he should do more often in order to strengthen the bond he had started to form with the girl. Richard had grumbled that a man of his importance had better things to do than entertain a child in a tea room, yet that was just for good measure, as he had been back there several times with his daughter, including for Catherine's birthday.

The afternoon went well as Catherine, her cheeks flushed with cold, was talking happily with her father who was earnestly listening to her, as he did with everything in his life. Hector, the little puppy, had been allowed to accompanied them under the condition that he remained in his mistress' arms where he was snoring softly. 

They returned home shortly after, the girl still holding her father's hand as a lifeline while they were walking a little bit to briskly for her little legs, also with a look of little disappointment for her that the afternoon was cut short so suddenly. However, the threatening clouds had not escaped to Turpin who feared that another snowstorm would prevent them from returning safely to the manor. 

Once back, the magic of the moment faded away as Turpin went directly to his office on the purpose to catch up on the work he had fallen behind for the day. It was convoluted to understand for Catherine who was still struggling to adapt herself with the quick change of mood of the man who had now found his place as a father in her little heart, still fragile by the many trials she had gone through at such a young age. 

Fortunately, she could always count on her governess to cheer her up and together, they played until bath time with her porcelain doll and her many stuffed animals.

"You won't have class tomorrow either," Richard announced to her at supper time.

Catherine's eyes lit up with joy. 

"Thank you, father !" she exclaimed.

"To my great despair," his cold voice growled, "a young girl from a good family should never neglect her lessons, but I considered it as more prudent not to have your teachers come tomorrow as the snow will probably fall more heavily than last night."

A lie, of course, but he didn't want to appear weak in anyone's eyes. He was the cold, unyielding Judge Turpin, not a soft heart who catered to his child's every whim. 

Catherine's crestfallen face hurt his heart more than he would admit, yet he said nothing more. The two ate in silence, as usual. After supper, to make up for his rudeness from earlier, Richard allowed her to spend some time with him in the parlour, something he never did on weekdays, but after having seen her suppressing a yawn for the fifth time, he sent her to bed unceremoniously.

"Will you come and kiss me, father ?" she asked hopefully.

"We'll see," simply stated Richard without looking up from his book.

The maid helped Catherine to go to bed, tucking her in warm blankets, and whether Richard came to kiss her or not, she would never know as she had fallen asleep immediately when her head had reached the cushions.

The next day, the little girl woke up later than usual. Richard, who could not afford to stay away from the Court for another day, had already left long ago. Remembering she had another day off, Catherine jumped up from her bed, running to the window to make sure the snow was till there. It was. In fact, there was even more. Richard was right, the snow had fallen heavily the whole night to cover London with more white. 

After getting dressed, not without difficulty for her poor maid as she was fidgeting with impatience, and having her breakfast under Anne's supervision, Catherine had asked and been granted permission to go out and play in the manor gardens. Her governess, who had made sure she was dressed warmly, was with her and together, they made snowmen and snow angels. The day had passed in the blink of an eye, so that neither of them had noticed they had missed lunch. It was a voice, low and cold like the rumble of thunder, that brought them back to reality.

"Why is my daughter rolling around in the snow like an animal ?" Richard asked.

Catherine stood up straight, a little ashamed, while Richard looked at her half-amused, half-irritated. 

"We were making snow angels," she said in a small voice. 

"Is that so ?" said Richard, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded, a small, shy smile playing on her lips as the governess, who was dusting her damp coat, didn't dare look up at Richard.

"I am sorry my lord, we..."

"Silence," Richard ordered, "you are here to teach my daughter manners and ensure that she behaves like a true lady, worthy of her rank, of my name. I realise today that you, yourself, have nothing of that."

The governess lowered her head, cheeks red with shame.

"It's my fault, father," Catherine interjected, "I was the one who wanted to play in the snow. I just wanted to be like the other children," she finished in a whisper.

Turpin's harsh features softened slightly. Another trait inherited from her late mother. Catherine always felt the need to defend others, especially if she had an ounce of affection for said person. 

"Another duty of the governess is not to give in to every whim of a child."

It was Catherine's turn to blush. The poor girl knew nothing of the amusement that Turpin felt to know that for once, a unique moment of time, his child had had the opportunity to act like a real child of his age. 

"Disappear," he hissed at the governess, "and do not let this happen again... and if it does, do not let me know about it," he added, subtly making her understand that he wasn't really angry with either her or Catherine.

The governess strode to the house without asking for more, relieved to know that she had done nothing wrong after all. However, Catherine was not yet versed in the subtle art of conversation, and convinced that she had disappointed her father, her eyes filled with tears.

"Hush, hush ! You're not going to cry now," Turpin said in a harsh tone, irritated by Catherine's bad habit of bursting into tears at the slightest of his frowns. 

"I'm sorry, father," she murmured.

"Come on, forget what I said. I was just teasing that old goat of a governess you have," he said playfully.

"Really ? You are not mad at me ?" Catherine asked, looking up at him.

"If I was mad, would I have asked the cook to make us mince pies for tonight ?"

Catherine's face lit up at his words. She didn't get sweets very often as Richard didn't want her to end up with rotten teeth.

"Oh ! Thank you, father !" she said, rushing into his arms.

Turpin wasn't used to her outbursts of affection yet. He probably never would. But he still made the effort to gently stroke her hair. 

"Come on, that's not very ladylike," he stated, "Let's go inside. I'll have your maid prepare a bath to warm you up, you're freezing. Then, it'll be time for diner."

They walked back inside the towering mansion together and Catherine thanked him again for the impending deliciousness of the night. Richard waved her off, waiting until she was out of sight to allow the smallest of a smile to tug across his lips. He shook his head in disbelieve, incredulous at how grateful the child could be for such small things that were insignificant to him. 

"Anything for you, daughter of mine," he muttered just to himself. 

[sugashook]

deadpool 3 is literally......pride and prejudice ...hear me out...

having mr darcy acting in the deadpool movie has to be a SIGN like ... everyone's playing their most famous character and then he's just paradox. nothing is as it seems~ ooo~

anyway~

i think logan is totally mr darcy and wade is elizabeth.

logan is a well off man with a rich history, everybody loves him. and wade is jealous of that, he doesn't see himself as highly regarded as logan and perhaps is not. and wade, well he's the brown eyed beauty.

"are you into dancing" "not if i can help it" / save my world or i'll make you take a breath through your forehead (and then he drinks and passes out, just not to dance with wade. [and dancing is used as a parallel already by the canon use of 'lady in red' in the film]).

mr darcy is totally closed off and nasty, he insults her appearance, he doesn't wish to participate in anything. but immediately after hearing her out, he's doing whatever she says to do to change himself.

logan was kind of enchanted from the first moment they met, i think. but he was still RUDE after.

and wade sees the way logan acts, at face value and is like that guy sucks, then paradox is like, this guy sucks even more than you think. and wade is like omfg that's terrible (just like in P&P).

wade misunderstands logan's rudeness, and other peoples rudeness as well. and thinks he's a bad person because of it. he looks at paradox who he speaks so well and is so polite and tells wade 'logan is a horrible person (JUST LIKE THEY SPOKE BADLY ABOUT MR DARCY). you're gonna be an avenger'. and wade believes him. and then once that is revealed to be a not true, only she and her father know that in the end, just like only wade's family knew about how they saved the world.

wade thinks people babying him and letting him do whatever he wants is love, but logan is the opposite of that so he feels very attacked.

but logan judges too quickly as well as wade. and even with his JUDGEMENTS of wade, he was mesmerized by wade (most hot men and vanessa are in the movies ,it's no big deal, tch)

he was too proud to accept the x men, too proud to admit he wants to fit in. and too proud to say he wants to be with wade. he thinks hes above it all.

Wade tells Logan to practice speaking aka to speak with cassandra . and logan rejects to dance with the lady (join him on the mission).

and in both movies, the hand holding really shook something in their worlds. elizabeth/wade saw something there. PLUS logans glove literally exploded off his hands that moment so its like he touched this lowly girl, like it was no big deal. Like, that's just what you're supposed to do. And wade hasn't met a hero like this that would sacrifice himself for wade so he's really in awe.

OKAY. HER, WADES VIEW OF MR DARCY started to change, there was something different there. HE TOUCHED HIM!!

and then it took wade accepting logan and telling his mom about him and all he did for her. bwaaaaaa n the movie ends.

has logan been in love with wade since day 1 ? did he really believe wade's lie or did he want to be with someone/wade. he's a little puppy needing a home. he won't dance if he can help it, but if it's for wade, he does. he kinda believed it, but also he wanted to take his rage out on something.

it was a good excuse to go along with deadpool, otherwise he'd be forced to say he simply wants to be with deadpool and he's absolutely not that type of person. he has to belittle wade/Elisabeth to make himself feel bigger. later on he realizes how badly he treated her.

wade heard logan's words of understanding, then he felt logan touch him for the first time. and then they touched knees and shoulders~ teehee~ and not touching on accident due to bad circumstances, or because they're tied together or in an act of brutality, but just casually out of love~ meep~

the world tried to tied them together....by force, out of necessity and THAT IS comparable to marriage, but they don't JUST need each-other in the end, they want each-other. and wade proposes to logan for logan to stay. even though they could have parted ways.

but wade has bewitched him body and soul entirely. 'my affections havent changed ,but one word from you will silence me forever(logan wanting to walk out, he didn't wish to make wade uncomfortable with his desires). i never wish to be parted from you since this day on.' thats the third act when logan realizes wow wade is incredible.

but also wade literally needed him, just like elizabeth needed a husband to marry, but she didnt want it to be mr darcy. but oh how wrong she was!!! if it was 1813 and wade was the lowly girl who needed a husband to survive, she really wants it to be mr logan darcy. basically.

and wade kinda does need to depend on someone, sure not societally the way she HAD to, she had no other options, but wade depends on people in every single other way, economically ,mentally and emotionally he does depend on others. and he hates that vanessa isn't his like bride to be.

but he sort of wanted to be her equal and her not take care of him at the same time. which is like a battle in his mind, they aren't on the same level. but logan and wade took care of one another on equal grounds.

you must know surely you must know it was all for you (wade says that basically to vanessa) GULP does logan feel the same way to wade ruh roh.

EEEEE

[2gayy2functionnn]

regina x janis maybe like a hurt/comfort with regina's chronic back pain after the accident?

ok here is it!

Janis knew something was wrong when she woke up. She could feel someone was wrong. She just didn’t know what. So she pushed it aside as she got ready.

“wake up” she texted regina

“are you still picking me up?” 

“hello gina?”

“also don’t be mad but i may or may not have spilled paint on the sweatshirt you let me borrow…”

“regina seriously are you ok”

Janis furrows her brows as she texts her girlfriend. Regina had changed since last year. She wouldn’t ignore her girlfriend..would she?

Janis threw her phone down on her bed and got dressed. Trying to keep her mind free of thoughts. Her phone vibrated. She jumped at it quickly opening the text.

Reggie- not going school

Janis frowned, her eyes narrowing at her bright screen. Regina only used bad grammar when she was drunk, sick, in pain or turned on.

Janis was concerned for her girlfriend. She never wanted help with anything. She had to realize though, now that Janis was her girlfriend, she’d never have to deal with anything alone again. 

                                   ***

Regina laid in her bed unable to move as tears fell quickly and silently down her face. Her blonde hair sprawled around her in a sort of halo as she laid there her phone abandoned at her side. She had sent one text than almost screamed in pain.

Her mom had taken her sister to school and than went to pilates. Her dad was at work. 

So she laid alone and hoped the pain would go away long enough for her to get pain meds. Time passed though and the pain stayed.

She laid there silently letting her thoughts overtake her mind when suddenly her window slammed open. She twisted her neck over to look without turning her body.

“Janis?” she said softly as her dark haired girlfriend climbed in her window. The short girl set her bag down and closed the window behind her. 

“G what’s wrong?” Janis said fastly rushing over to her girlfriend. She took her hand and wiped some of the tears off her cheek. 

“Nothing i’m ok”. Regina says offering her a soft smile. Janis frowns at her and cocks her head in a way that reminds regina of a puppy.

“G…we both know that’s not the truth, your lying in bed crying and judging on your clothing you fell asleep randomly last night” Janis says beckoning to the girls flare leggings and crop top.

“Ok fine, my back is acting up, I had a bad day at practice last night” Regina admits shifting a bit as her back flared up again.

“do you need anything?” janis asks settling herself by regina’s side.

“my pain meds…there in my bag on the bathroom counter” regina requests softly. Janis nods and gets up and grabs them along with regina’s pink waterbottle that has a rainbow on the front.

“Don’t say anything” Regina scoffs at Janis’s smirk. 

“i wasn’t going to” Janis says innocently handing the girl her rainbow water bottle. Regina raises an eyebrow but takes it and downs her pills.

“shouldn’t you be at school” she says as she shuffles into a new position.

“I should, but i have this dumb blonde girlfriend who doesn’t tell people when she’s in pain so i have to skip and babysit her” janis sighs settling in next to regina. 

“you don’t have to, i’m perfectly fine” Regina scoffs turning to face her doe eyes girlfriend.

“no your not gina, and that’s ok” janis says softly moving a strand of her hair out of her face.

“I want to help you, please” janis says putting her hands on regina’s cheeks. Regina blushes.

“Ok” she says as janis kisses her forehead. 

Regina shifts and lays down her head on janis’s lap as she lets out a sigh of content as janis rubs her back.

“thanks j” she says softly.

“Anytime gina, anytime”

[shadowdaddies]

Hey

Could I request something with Dorian and the reader is having difficulty with anxiety and he sort of just comforts her?

Thankssss

Hi! Of course💜 for me when my anxiety is bad, I usually try to distract myself so that's the route I went with here (also I used this as an excuse to put my dog's name into a story)

Distraction

Dorian x Reader

Warnings: anxiety/panic attack at the beginning

The splash of cold water on your face was enough to draw you back to your current surroundings, finally inhaling a deep - albeit shaky - breath. You couldn’t even recall what triggered the anxiety, a vortex of thoughts spiraling with every worry your mind could create. 

The door to the bedroom opened, boots clicking against the hardwood floor as Dorian strode into the bathroom where you were hunched over the sink. Sapphire blue eyes searched your appearance - the fidgety hands tapping the counter, chest heaving, gaunt eyes on a paled face as the splashed water dripped down. 

His gaze softened, lips thinning into a straight line as he recognized your anxious state, asking softly, “hey love, can I give you a hug?” 

After another deep breath, you nodded, turning around as you wrapped your arms around Dorian’s waist, tucking your head into his chest. He held you snugly, the comforting pressure of his arms around you already easing your breath. You focused on the feel of his warm body, his scent of oud and cardamom, the soft beat of his heart. 

He held you there for a long moment, before the restlessness took over once more, and you pulled away. Protectively wrapping your arms around your chest, you looked around anxiously. “I need something to do. I’ve just been stewing with my thoughts. Can we go somewhere?”

Dorian nodded, a bright smile lighting up his face. “I know exactly where to take you,” he said, reaching out a hand for you to hold. Twining your fingers in his, you allowed Dorian to lead you out of the castle and towards the stables. 

Scrunching your nose at the smell of hay and manure, you coughed out your complaints. “Why are we here, Dor?” 

Chuckling at your dramatics, Dorian just smirked as he pulled you into one of the stalls, where a stable boy crouched over one of his hounds. “Hi Simon,” Dorian greeted, drawing the attention of the boy. “If you want to take a break, I thought we could spend some time with the puppies for awhile.” 

As Simon stood, nodding his thanks before he left the stall, you took in the sight of the newborn puppies snuggled into their mom’s side. “Oh my goodness,” you cooed, a soft whisper as you knelt down with the pups. 

Dorian kneeled next to you, stroking the mother’s head as he watched you pet the tiny puppies. “They were just born this morning. I thought they might cheer you up.” 

Your heart swelled as you watched the little animals stumbling around, tripping over each other to get closer to their mother’s warmth. Nodding, you let out a soft laugh as a particularly small black pup waddled over to you, nudging your hand. Carefully, you scooped it up, holding the sweet creature to your chest as it nuzzled in close.

“They don’t usually take to people so quickly,” Dorian whispered in awe. The two of you shared a soft smile, and he nodded at the pup. “You should name that one.” 

As happiness bubbled up inside of you at the tenderness of the moment, you knew what name to give. “Joy.”

[bengiyo]

My Stand In Ep 2 Stray Thoughts

Last week, we met Joe, our stuntman protagonist with a terminal case of Bottom Dementia. He is the primary stuntman and stand in for a popular actor named Tong. He met Ming, a younger friend of Tong that has been secretly pining after Tong for years. Ming mistakes Joe for Tong and begins to pursue him, and the toxic yaoi began. We know that in the future Joe dies in a stunt accident and wakes up in the body of another guy named Joe (not confusing at all) and goes back to work at the same company. We left at Ming possibly recognizing Joe by his back again.

Joe, baby boy, if he can't remember fucking you this is a huge warning.

Joe sneezes when he has an orgasm? I really hope Ming remembers this when he inevitably fucks Wahl!Joe.

Joe, asking to tag along with you so he can see another man is another warning.

Keeping it on the DL is also suspect! Joe, it's so painful watching you when I know you're only going to make bad choices!

This Tong guy seems very difficult to work with. Leaving his costar alone to drown is super unsubtle as a metaphor.

Joe, he is flirting with another man in front of you, who is the guy you are asked to resemble.

Joe, he was just flirting with Tong and now he's jealous of you possibly having feelings for other people! He's mad at you for picking up on the flirting. Get out of there.

There's a lot of use of reflections in this episode. If one of you writes about it, please tag me.

Now, Joe, do not take your frustrations out on the other stuntmen.

Does Ming's mom not know he's gay?

I like this girl. She seems pragmatic.

JOE, YOU ARE EMBARRASSING! Why would you flirt like that??

No lube in a bathroom? Oh, BL.

I don't like the "Then stop me" thing Ming keeps doing.

Porsche!!! Welcome back!

I like that Sol wants to reunite because he left on a major misunderstanding, but recognizes that his feelings for Joe are genuine. This conversation about people taking advantage in the industry being a barrier to real connection is fascinating. I hope we see more of Sol, but I doubt Joe sees it.

Okay, legit fuck Ming. Ming showed up hella drunk and Joe took care of him and put him in a bed. Ming beefed with Sol and then dumped Joe on the floor for stinking of alcohol. I do not support these gay wrongs!

Wait are Ming and Joe NOT using condoms??

"You're just a stand-in." Hey, Ming, come outside. We won't jump you.

It's kind of a hilarious casting choice to put Porsche in a show where a gay man has feelings for his sister's boyfriend after his excellent work on You're My Sky. He's not involved in that plotline, but I'm thinking about it.

Well, that was fun, but at least Sol is still breathing.

Joe, are you really saying MING taught you about love? We're giving up on Sol for Ming??

I see. Ming has been very alone for a long time. I see how he became a stuntman.

I respect and support Ming's Lady and the Tramp desires.

I really hope this isn't the last we see of Sol! I feel bad for Joe because it feels like he's not got folks around to push back on Ming's bullshit. They were smart to pick Up for this role because he can make Ming's attempt to treat Joe and play house feel genuine, even if we know it's going to fall apart. Likewise, Phoom does the wounded puppy thing so well. Really impressed with the casting of this show.

[lipglossanon]

*chants* brain rot, brain rot, brain rot

dark stepdaddy leon and reader going halloween costume shopping after the Mom thing (maybe not but for plot we’ll say sure) they pick out respective costumes but then Leon sees a slutty red riding hood costume (a two piece perhaps?) and readers eyes light up just so excited to see the way Leon reacts to her in it and she convinces him to dress up as wolf, (can the wolf costume be a shitty wolf ear headband and RE4 remake Leon’s outfit?) i feel like he’s not ~super~ into the costume thing but is ~super~ into making you wet, ya know? so it’s halloween and he’s planned a little date, *aggressively whispers* corn maze 🤭, you get dressed up in the costume and thigh high fishnets with boots to match and he meets you in the living room and (like all of us) reader absolutely looses it over the harness and the gloves and tactical pants just all of it especially with the wolf ears because- he’s too old for this shit- but wants to make you happy and that outweighs everything,,,, so he’s ABSOLUTELY not restraining himself, no mom, no one who knows you’re his daughter or stepdaughter just Horny™️ all the time. to be safe he takes you to a little farm outside the city or town you live in and he buys you treats all that cutesy shit but i know we all want porn so-

he’s been feeling you up, cokwarming you on the hayride (because it’s dark and if i write it that no one noticed, then no one noticed 🤫) so you’re all hazy from arousal and just holding your stepdads hand following him like a lost puppy 🤭 when he sees the “free maze now until - idk pick a day” so he takes you over to the pumpkin patch next to the maze and stands behind you arms around your waist, dick ~not~ pressed into your lower back 😉 asking you if you wanted to play a little game, so you nod and he says “i’ll go in the maze after you and if you get out before i catch you we do it in the car, if i catch you i’m gonna take what’s mine” while he’s basically growling in your ear so you set off purposefully getting lost in a back corner of the maze and just sit and wait for him which he thinks is absolutely fucking adorable that you just want your stepdaddy’s dick so bad you’re just gonna wait in a public place for him rail you. he kicks your legs apart and you whisper “daddy” making him kneel between your legs and hold your chin asking you “what baby?” and all you can muster is a weak little “make it hurt”, and give him puppy dog eyes while touching the knife (everyone thought it was fake which is why no one thought to say anything because halloween, also plot and porn- mostly porn) his eyes light up when he realizes what you mean but he still asks “do you want me to cut you?” while dragging the knife across your jaw absolutely gnawing at the bars of what little self restraint he has when you nod and ask, “cut your name into my legs daddy so everybody knows i’m yours 🥺” and he just looses it. slams you face first into the dirt, hand on your lower back dragging the non sharp edge of blade against your slit through your panties making you wriggle but he just spanks you and tells you to behave and you do because the pleasure outweighs the pain of carving “daddy’s slut” on the back of your thighs (like a word per thigh) and he takes a picture to show you and you get all whiny because you wanted his name so you pull down the hem of your panties (or two piece costume and no panties? just spreading your pussy with a knife like he’s buttering toast?) and ask him to put in there right below your abdomen,,,,,, i need to be stopped this is too long already 🫣

- 💀

(okay fine, you’re all cut up he didn’t fuck you because you got ballsy and when he was done cutting you you bolted through the corn maze and he was right behind you, you got in trouble and he took you back to the car and drove into a little cemetery not far from the farm and he basically shoves you into the back of the car where the seats are already down so it’s like a little bed and he’s in between your legs and is holding a lighter to one of the rings he’s wearing and laughs while you scream from him branding your inner thigh, making you practically cum on the spot but instead you just have an orgasm but he can’t leave it at that so once he’s branded you in a few spots he’s shoving your fingers into your cunt making you while and hump your hand begging for it be him instead which he declines saying you’ve been ~so~ bad running from daddy and he just needs to teach you a lesson so he continues to fuck you with your own hand until you almost cum, pulling them out and sucking on them while holding your stare when feel rather than notice him pull the knife out and cut the top of your costume groping you and holding the knife to your throat while he humps you with his pants still on, making you stain his pants from how wet you are (my brain decided no panties with a two piece costume apparently lol) he finally gets his fill of groping and sucking on you before he’s bottoming out in your pussy, squelching noises filling the car while he coos “such a naughty little girl for daddy tonight, huh?” while you nod too overstimulated to know if it hurts anymore just wanting to make him feel good 🥵 i am stopping myself before this becomes a literal fic in your inbox lmao sorry it’s so much i just wanted to share <33333)

Never apologize 💀 anon! You can send a whole ass fic in my inbox 🤣

AGSJFL but I have no words 😩 this was so hot!! And Leon being ‘so here’s my costume🙄 is so on the money lmao. Ugh yes 👏 his RE4 outfit would have me on my knees in a heartbeat. Even better is he has the jacket cause it’s cold in the fall and at some point he takes it off and puts it over your shoulders 🤭

Aww no but I love that he’d buy cutesy stuff! 😌 and he totally would, especially since you’re practically wrapped around his bicep to lean on him while cooing about the stuff you like 🤭

And ugh yes having Leon chase you down just to rail your brains out 😵‍💫 😵‍💫

And the rest has me like 🫣 🫣

[i-like-turkey]

I announced on Twitter that I was taking a step back from social media and fandom to deal with a personal matter. That’s still true. I just need to barf some feelings into the universe. I’m putting them under a cut. This is NOT an easy read and I’m NOT holding back details. Don’t feel compelled or obligated to share my pain. TW: Pet death & grief.

I said goodbye to my little girl on Thursday. She’s been my world since I took her home at the end of July 2012. It was both sudden and not sudden. So I’m in shock, but I’m also not really surprised. There were signs that something bad was looming and I had this gut feeling as early as January that this wasn’t gonna be a good year for us.

This likely all started a long time ago. I took her to the vet in August of 2022 right before we moved east. The vet told me that her heart didn’t sound 100%, but it wasn’t something that needed immediate intervention. She had a little murmur that could indicate heart disease and if it got worse, then I’d need to get her to a specialist to take pictures and then we’d likely get her on some medicine to deal with whatever the problem was.

So I heeded the advice to take a wait and see approach. My baby was acting fine. She made it across the country well. She had energy and life. Not quite her puppy energy, but she was 10, so that was normal. I took her to the vet again this last August and I heard the same thing. She has a murmur. It’s not quite bad enough to get images. If it gets worse, we’ll refer you to a specialist. Ok. Great.

We keep living our life. She still has energy. Lunging at cars and barking at other dogs and trying to get endless pets from all of the strangers we’d encounter while walking in our neighborhood and riding our building’s elevators. I can’t tell y’all how many people would ask how old she was and be surprised when I told them 11.

So we get to January and she’s coughing a bit more than she usually does. Background: for the last few years of her life, she’d occasionally have coughing fits when she got super excited about something or barked too hard at a car. Worrying. But something I’d disclosed to all of the vets we’d seen and they didn’t seem perturbed by it. But now the coughing was every few days instead of a couple times a month or three days of coughing followed by months without a single damn cough.

It got really bad mid January. I took her into the vet. The same one who’d listened to her heart in August. He listened again. Nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t have fluid in her lungs. Her energy was fine. He sent me home with antibiotics and a cough suppressant and told me to come back if she didn’t improve after a few days of treatment. She improved. Not right away. There were scary times where her breathing was all labored, but after a few days of the meds, she was doing better, and by the end she seemed fine.

And then we get to last Sunday and I hear a cough and that wasn’t good. And then Monday she’s coughing a bit more and I’m getting nervous. I talk to my parents and we agree to not do anything yet because illnesses can linger and her energy was fine. My mom came over that night and we were standing by the laundry closet doors and my pup pulled a toy out of her toy basket and was just running all over the living room with it. She was shaking her head and growling and having an absolute blast flinging that thing everywhere for the entire lengthy time my mom and I were chatting. She didn’t look sick. She looked like a puppy with lots of gray hair.

Then my mom leaves and we sit on the couch and she rolls over for belly rubs and immediately has to roll back over to cough. Then she cuddles up to me and we sit there and watch TV and I pet her and then I take her out and we go through our nighttime routine. She seemed fine.

Tuesday was a good day. She had energy. We played a bit with one of her favorite toys. We had some good cuddles. I only heard a few coughs.

Wednesday morning she seemed ok energy wise. She coughed when she rolled over for belly rubs right after I got home from my morning walk (solo cause it’s long & hilly. She also got one every morning). I didn’t notice anything abnormal during the day. Then we go out for our evening walk and she’s sluggish. That also wasn’t abnormal cause her energy had been fading for the last few years. Sometimes she’d race through our walks. Sometimes she liked to take a leisurely pace. I never worried cause if a car zoomed past she’d lunge and bark and if she saw a dog, she’d lose her mind. But we passed a couple dogs that night and nothing. That had me on edge. But then we get inside and I put on her favorite TV show, Person of Interest, and she was barking up a storm at Bear and seemed fine. I take that as a positive sign and relax a little.

I make dinner. We go to the couch for nightly cuddles. She rolls over for belly rubs. Starts coughing immediately. I pet her through it. Then she cuddles into my side and coughs a couple more times as we sit there. I put her to bed at her usual bedtime. I hear her coughing a few times as I’m struggling to fall asleep. Then I wake up Thursday and she’s in bad shape. I don’t wanna describe it cause it’s too fucking tough to type and traumatic. But I get us scheduled with the nearby vet asap* and I keep an eye on my girl and her scary symptoms. The symptoms subside a bit. Then my mom comes over to help keep me calm as we wait for our appointment time. My baby perks up when she hears my mom knock. She runs from the couch to the door. She’s wagging her tail and barking and jumping on my mom. She goes and chugs half her bowl of water. We sit there with her for over an hour petting her as we talk. She’s breathing ok. Her tail is between her legs, so that’s a sign something isn’t right. But she’s getting all the love from us and seemed happy.

Then we leave. She pees and poops on the way (I didn’t take her out first thing that morning cause part of the scary badness that I’m skipping is that she peed inside). The vet comes in and listens to her. I show a video I took of her that morning. The vet’s reaction said it all. She snapped into action. Took my baby out of the room for x-rays. As that was happening we were going over pricing options with a tech and then shit kinda really hit the fan cause the x-rays were bad. No specialty review necessary. She had fluid around her heart. So we start talking about transporting her to a specialist. They bring my girl back in. The tech just kinda drops the leash and steps away as soon as my girl is through the door. She starts racing directly to me and she collapses. My mom runs for help. They take her away again. The vet ends up doing the procedure she would have sent us elsewhere to do. Basically draining the fluid. It’s blood. They get her stable and hooked up on oxygen and give me the option of trying to get her to the animal hospital for further intervention. But the vet was clear that she’d probably die on the way and it was VERY clear at that point that she wasn’t gonna get better from this. It was a heart tumor. Something had ruptured and started bleeding. There was no fix. So I made the call to let her go. We got my dad and my brother on the line and told them to get their asses over to us. We stood there petting my baby as we waited. Then we said goodbye.

*In hindsight I maybe should have gotten her in the car and driven her to an emergency hospital. But the closest one ISN’T close. And that wouldn’t have changed the outcome. She hated the car enough that she would pant during two minute drives. 40 minutes (assuming relatively light rush hour traffic which is probably a bad assumption so more like 60 min) of that while she was already in breathing distress might have killed her. But assuming we made it, they could have intervened and maybe bought her a day or two. But this wasn’t something she was gonna get better from. That extra time would have been full of pain. So I made the right call. She got more loves from me and my mom at home and got to pass peacefully nearby while she was surrounded by everyone who loved her.

So I’m devastated and completely out of my mind at the moment. I don’t know what’s up or down. I’m keeping myself occupied between sobbing fits by going through all the pictures I’ve taken over the years. It’s a pain in the ass because my storage habits are terrible and my screenshotting habits are worse so I have hundreds of thousands of images scattered everywhere and now I have to dig through them to find my girl.

Here are some painful lessons I’ve learned from this:

Don’t store 77k images in a single folder on an external hard drive. You won’t be able to copy them all over to the iCloud at a single time unless you have a fuckton of available disk space on your Mac. And trying to scroll through the images will push your computer dangerously close to the limits (I really need a new machine 😬)

Don’t rely too heavily on Snapchat to takes pics. It’s fun in the moment, but 5-6 years later you’re gonna cringe & regret that all your cute dogs pics from that era are plastered over with weird graphics. A Happy Mother’s Day pic with my dog on the couch behind me, hearts all above us, and a damn Wookie filter plastered over my face? jfc 🤦🏼‍♀️

Do give yourself a refresher on how Snapchat works lest you go through and favorite a bunch of memories, see a pop up flash about them getting added to a story, and then have a full on panic attack in front of your parents about how you might have accidentally shared semi-naked pics of yourself with the few people that still follow you 😅 (Yes, I’ve been been known to take and share some risqué pics. Yes, I wanted to download them before deleting them. I might be grieving, but I can still see a pic of my 2018 back muscles and think “Damn!” 🫣🤣)

Don’t be so lax and sloppy about your picture storage habits that you’re forced to keyword search your text messages for pictures cause it’s a good way to find out just how many women you’ve texted dog pics to throughout the years 🥴 She was a great wing woman, but she also loved to clam jam me cause she thought she was the one who should be getting kisses when I’d sit on my couch with a woman 😂

Do find a balance between taking pictures of every damn thing and living in the moment. I stopped taking lots of pics since my east coast move cause I wanted to get away from my compulsive snapping. Now I regret not taking at least one daily shot of her sleeping on the couch.

Do have other people take pictures of you and your dog. So far I’ve only found two different occasions on which someone else took a picture of me and my baby together. All other pics of us are terrible selfies or feature just my hand/arm/legs. I have memories of all those moments that I spent with her, but it hurts to not have a father away perspective on them. Part of this is my fault for living thousands of miles from my family, being fairly closed off to human connections aside from shallow hookups and activity buddies, and viewing my home as a sacred domain accessible to people only if there wasn’t another option for where we could hang out.

Thank you anyone who has made it this far. Please go hug your pets and tell them that you love them. If you would like to leave me a note, that’s very welcome. I don’t have the energy to engage, so it’s unlikely I will respond until the day my energy returns. Idk when that will be. Right now I’m still in the sobbing hysterically as I process my new reality phase. I need to get through that before I’ll be ready to start communicating normally. I’m hopeful that I’ll only need a week or two in this phase. But who knows. Grief is hard to predict. All I can do now is stay patient and work through it.