#I got an idea last week from visiting a farmer's market and wanted to go it a try

[synodicsoma]

I've been experimenting recently...

[annieintheaair]

Sun's gonna come back around, dust is gonna settle on solid ground; You've come too far to turn back now.

I slowed down on writing this past week because it has been a week! Quite possibly the craziest week of my whole year so far.

I ended up getting an ODAN on reserve last Monday, which was fine with me, except for the delays. First I was supposed to do an Albuquerque and then ended up doing an El Paso. The delays made me think, once again, how much better life would be once I moved and didn’t have to constantly worry about having help with my dogs.

Wednesday, scheduling assigned me a 4-day trip. I spent a solid couple of hours freaking out over it and then finally called out sick. The idea of working that trip literally made me sick to my stomach so I thought that was reasonable. Instead, I spend the day running errands, like getting supplies for my move at Target and getting a Stanley cup for my niece for her birthday. I got some packing done and eventually met my mom in Fort Worth for dinner at Game Theory. It was late and our options were limited. I finished the night at home with an Aperol spritz and a movie. I finally got up the courage to read a message James sent me weeks ago and we ended up messaging back and forth a bit. I felt like I was finally able to get some real closure from everything, knowing that it really wasn’t my fault. It meant so much to me that he took ownership of what he did wrong at the time and admitted that he was dealing with things that had nothing to do with me.

Thursday morning I got up early, got some work done, and went to NRH2O with my mom, sister, nieces, and nephew. We spent quite a few hours there in the water and I gave my niece, Charlotte her birthday present. She was so excited! After the water park we got Andy’s and then I headed home to the dogs.

On Friday, I went to my last yoga class in Fort Worth. Stephanie asked what my plans were for the weekend and I told her I was moving. She hugged me and told me that she would miss having me in class but hoped I’d visit sometimes. I told her that her class was one of the few things I’ll really miss living over there and plan to visit once in a while, especially when visiting my sister. It was one of my difficult moments of the week realizing that there was something I’d really miss.

After yoga, I ran to Costco for a couple things, stopped at Total Wine for more Aperol, and then ran to Mr. Poké for lunch. It was another long afternoon of packing.

We finally received a tentative agreement for our new contract but we have to vote on it and I will be voting no. The company could do better, and we deserve more than what they're currently offering.

By Saturday, I was in a weird mood where I knew I had a million things to do but I was also feeling a little sad and unmotivated to do anything. I got up early to go to the Clearfork Farmer’s Market, where I decided I couldn’t buy anything due to moving, and then went to Archie’s Gardenland where they had a cute café/permanent food truck called Heirloom. I got an early lunch and enjoyed time among the flowers before heading over to Daiso to pick up a few packing essentials.

My mom came to my house in the afternoon and we loaded up our cars and drove to my new house to drop off some things and leave one of my cars. My mom drove me back home after and we stopped at H-E-B to get sushi and then headed to the winery to listen to music.

Matt and I had planned on getting a U-Haul on Sunday but he was assigned standby duty so the plan was canceled. When I woke up Sunday morning though, Kia texted me asking about my move and I told her that Matt and I had to cancel so I was a little stressed out. Immediately, she called me and said she and her husband would come help me and to book the U-Haul so that they could pick it up on their way to my house. “Let’s get you moved!” is what she said and part of me didn’t even want to move at all that day but I knew I couldn’t turn down help.

I quickly loaded up as much as I could in my car and then my mom came over to help with some things. Kia, Mason, and Aleia showed up and we had a long, hot, crazy day of moving. We started around noon and didn’t get the truck fully loaded until around 5pm. My mom left a little early to go to my new house to drop stuff off and by the time I arrived, it was 6:20. I ran into my neighbors as soon as I parked my car and my landlord came over to bring a garage door remote until I could get the MyQ setup. I ordered us a pizza and took the dogs to their dog sitter by 7pm. The moving van arrived around 7:20pm and we started unloading. Unloading took us until about 11:30pm after we reassembled all of my furniture. Eric came over to help us unload, which was nice to have an extra set of hands.

My feet were black by the end of the day and I took a shower as soon as everyone left. I settled into bed, got some work done, and tried to fall asleep. As tired as I was, I had the hardest time falling asleep and didn’t even sleep as late as I had hoped.

Monday morning I felt super motivated to really start unpacking and organizing my kitchen. I unpacked all of the boxes that were in my kitchen to clear the countertops and even dragged a few boxes upstairs. I had a dentist appointment at 12:40pm so I drove across town for that and then immediately after drove the hour to my old house to do some cleaning and pack up some of the things left behind. Matt called me on my way over and offered to meet me so that we could get my bikes.

I got to the house around 2:30pm and Matt got there sometime around 3:30pm. We loaded up my car and packed it to the brim and then ran to Mr. Poké for yet another poké bowl before finishing up packing what we could in our cars. I felt like I got a lot cleaned and packed up but still couldn’t fit the last of it and didn’t get to pack everything in the fridge. I’m seriously dreading doing the trip again to get the rest.

I got back to my new house around 7pm and Matt got there shortly after. In the process of unloading my car, literally right after I got off the phone with Matt, I lost my phone. I kept pinging it and knew it was in my car but couldn’t find it anywhere. I thought I was losing my mind. When Matt got to my house, we literally had to rip apart my trunk (and discovered I don’t even have a spare tire because of the battery being back there!) and my phone somehow managed to get stuck in some crack that was nearly impossible to get out. I honestly don’t know how we did it but I got my phone back.

By the time we unloaded Matt’s car, we were both sweating and ready for a drink. We went to Sidecar Social and got spicy margaritas and then Matt got an old fashioned and I got an espresso martini. Once again, Matt tried to convince me to go on an actual date with him, to which I reminded him again that I’m enjoying the single life for now. He said, “Well maybe now that you’re getting your life back together.” And I said, “That makes it sound like I’m coming off of drugs or just got out of prison haha.” But seriously, it made it seem like something in my life had been so off and now I was finally making some progress in the right direction.

We picked up the dogs at 9:30pm and then went back to my house for a bit. Matt helped me with some random things, like carrying my desk upstairs, and then went home. I hopped in the shower, got into bed, finished up some work, wrote my report, and then tried to sleep. I tossed and turned for about two hours before I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up Tuesday morning, it was around 7:30am. I stayed in bed until about 8 and then decided I had to go for a walk before it got too hot outside. I got dressed and the dogs and I walked around the neighborhood and on the trails and through the park. Ellie led the way like she had never left. I looked at the park and the trail and just thought about how lucky I am to get this sort of do-over. I think I took a lot for granted before and I’m so thankful to have this chance to have my old life back. All the neighbors said hello and waved as we walked and before heading home we stopped at the mailbox where my new driver’s license was waiting for me. “It’s really official now!” I thought.

Back at home I gave the dogs breakfast and then decided I had to go to H-E-B to get some allergy meds because all of the dust from moving caused a major allergy attack that I felt like I could barely breathe and wanted to rip my eyeballs out. I picked up some meds, got gas, and then went to Home Depot to make some extra copies of my key.

At home, my landlord texted me about coming over soon to install some cabinet hardware. I immediately realized I desperately needed to finish the kitchen. I grabbed more boxes from the garage and completely unpacked and organized the kitchen. It felt so good to make that kind of progress!

I got more work done and then ran a few errands and picked up a Thai tea from Sweetwaters. I tried to take a short nap at home but only slept maybe 20 minutes before I had to wake up for my 3:30pm work meeting. It was honestly such a waste because my boss didn’t even show up or tell us she wouldn’t be there.

I took a shower and got ready and then went to meet my mom at Brio for dinner. We moved some stuff that she picked up from my old house into my car and then I went to work.

My flight to Nashville got delayed due to thunderstorms there and I was really hoping that it would just cancel but it didn’t.

It feels like a long week and it’s only Wednesday. It’s going to be a busy few days with working so much but I’m really glad I’m off tonight.

I remember reading something many years ago that said, “If you don’t like where you live, move. You’re not a tree.” Sometimes I feel like the potted plant version of a tree. I’m okay where I am but I can still move. Sometimes it feels like I’m outgrowing my pot and need a larger one, much like a hermit crab outgrowing its shell. Sometimes I feel like I’m not getting enough water or sun and my leaves start to welt and my soil dries up. It’s amazing what changing your environment can do for you. I know it has only been a few days but I feel more like me again, like I have finally exited the dream I was living in the last 14 months.

I feel like I can really say that I tried. I loved my house there and am still sad in some ways about having left but I needed to do what was best for me and right now, I need to be where I feel like I have good support and can be happy.

I'm finally meeting my new therapist in person this afternoon. We've had a few sessions virtually and I feel like we have a lot to catch up on today since it has been a week and a half and a lot happened since then. It's nice being closer to my therapist so I can meet her in person, finally.

I thought about driving back to my old house today to finish some things up but I might hold off until Saturday. We'll see.

xoxo

Annie

[theoldhempfarmer]

The Tennessee Cannabis Industry showed up and showed out, now what

Dateline 2-7-24

The last few days here in Middle Tennessee, we are enjoying a “False Spring” and yours truly has been baited into putting some seeds into the ground. A couple days ago, Arugula, Kale and Spinach got planted because even if we get some freezing temperatures these cultivars should probably should survive but if we get 2 degree Fahrenheit temperatures all bets are off. Anyway this morning, The Old Hemp Farmer is enjoying a cup of organic Indonesian coffee (I switched back from the Zambian) and Costa Rican Cacao fortified with Tennessee homegrown CBD/THC extract, a product that will continue to be legal after July 1st. And today’s blurb is about The Old Hemp Farmer’s pilgrimage to the World Headquarters of the venerable institution known as the Tennessee Department of Agriculture to observe the Hemp Derived Cannabinoids Town Hall that was held 2-6-24. This was the public’s last chance to voice in person their concerns about the fact that when HB0403 kicks in on July 1st, 2024 THCa flower, dabs and carts are toast. Not sure if the general public even knew about this but the Tennessee Cannabis Industry did, they showed up and showed out with numbers (200+ folks) that were armed with facts and stacks of signatures. Sorry to digress a little but a quick shout out to the TDA, because this event was smooth, parking and the flow of people speaking was pretty clutch. In about a hour and a half everyone that showed up got to speak their mind. Although The Old Hemp Farmers was asked by several folks to speak at this civic event, I wasn’t there to talk, I was there to listen. I was there to chew the fat with the folks that showed up, what did they expect and if their attempt to petition the TDA didn’t bear fruit, then what? The majority of the folks that attended were there in essence to save their Cannabis businesses. Several of the Cannabis store owners admitted that the majority of their sales were THCa flower, carts and dabs. So I had to ask “Does it bother you that the majority of THCa flower sold in Tennessee is Black Market?” The responses ranged from they had no idea that their flower was illegal to those that said it shouldn’t matter. So the next question was “if this all goes away is your business prepared to pivot in a major way?” Some of the more mature Cannabis businesses said they did but others weren't sure. While other Cannabis pros said they were lawyering up and were going to get relief from the courts. A couple of people defiantly said they were going to continue to sell THCa flower until they got busted. Which I suspect that a lot folks will do the same but were afraid to admit that in an interview. Although most of the folks that showed up at the town Hall were on the Cannabis Retail side, there were a few Cannabis farmers. Even though farmers were in the minority, their view was why should a store be able to sell THCa flower grown in another state, that we can’t grow in Tennessee? Why indeed? Lee Crabtree and I have pondered that very thing. One frustrated Cannabis farmer, said he was looking forward to HB0403 being enacted because then it would be a level playing field. This Cannabis farmer and his group were going to grow a high CBD crop of flower that would be compliant. “People will always want to have something that they can smoke, we’ll be there.” Anyway one way or the other by 1st week of May 2024, everyone will know the rules of the road. Why the first week of May? Because that will be the end of the current Tennessee legislative session, which would be the last ditch attempt to amend HB0403 but that’s the topic for next week’s column. Anyway as always, Hemp Dawgs and Hemp Puppies keep one eye on the weather and the other eye on the market.

Visit our Tennessee homegrown web site to try our great products: https://www.tnhomegrown.com

The Wife's web site: https://www.theoldhempfarmerswife.com

Our Podcast - Full Contact Cannabis: https://fullcontactcannabis.podbean.com

[vemuabhi]

Disney Romance - Cinderella’s Bird - 200 followers special

@littlesniggy​ said : Hey you! Now it's my turn to request something! Kida sad you don't write for Akainu but I can understand 😂 He's an asshole! If it hasn't been requested yet, would you do Mulan/Cinderella with Kid x female reader? I'm super excited which one you choose/ if you choose it at all! Thank you!

A/N : Omg thankyou so much for sending an ask @littlesniggy​ san!!! I am so excited to answer this for you! I loved writing for the grumpy boy. This was really a beautiful experience writing this for Eustass KIdd. Please don’t have high expectations for this.

Warning : A big fic written by me. But has a happy ending.

Word count : 2.7K

I hope you like it!

XOXOXOXO

“Why the hell should I get married now?”, you complained to your Robin who always was beside you, she was a maid but you always admired her and always treated her like a friend not like a maid.

Robin sighed and patted your head as she took the place beside you on the bed. “I should have the choice when I want to get married. Not some jerk who is randomly selected by my parents”, you scoffed and plopped back on the soft burgundy-coloured bedsheets. Robin gave you a sad smile and said, “That’s true. I too believe that marriage should be for Love”

Being a princess isn’t easy. Every girl dream to be a princess but its not as beautiful like the fairy tales are. You are a live example for that. Not once you could decide for yourself. Even the big puffy yellow gown you were wearing was not of your choice. The corset was killing you inside. You wanted to rip it off and throw it out of your window. With language classes, you always had dance classes, tea sessions, music classes. Everything that was chosen by your parents, was practically forced upon you.

‘What kind of lunatic needs to learn how to drink tea?’, you cursed the tea sessions when ever you were being called to it. All you did was brew tea and drink during the whole time. The music classes were always a hectic. You wanted to learn an instrument but when you were given another. Your wishes were denied because who cares about your dreams? In the beginning even dance classes were troublesome, But you tried to put up with all those demands of your parents. In return they are now trying to get you married as soon as possible.

“I’m done with this Robin”, you spoke and got up. “I’ll do whatever I want”, your voice was stern and Robin was curious on what you were about to do.

“Cancel todays classes, I’ll be going to visit the town to relieve my stress”, you announced briskly walking towards the closet.

“Are you sure your highness? But how can you go alone? You must have someone wit-”

“Robin! Its fine. I can take care of myself”, you didn’t let her finish her sentence. Throwing your corset on the floor and dressing up like a maid didn’t take long enough. You made your way towards the secret passage in the palace and exited the palace. Even though Robin was worried, she had to stay back in the castle to make sure no one notices your leaving.

The town and the market were as lively as ever and you walked around the place. As you kept walking, you saw a couple who looked very much in love. You felt a bit envious of them. At least the commoners had the freedom to do what they like. As you were walking aimlessly in the market, you bumped into a tall buff guy.

“Oh I’m sorry”, after apologising you thought of leaving but it didn’t go well.

“Hey! How can you go away like that?” the man started to fight with you. As you felt the very heavy scent of alcohol hit your nostrils, you knew that this man was heavily drunk.

“What? I apologised so what’s your problem now?” you questioned as your dominant hand slowly reached for the sword hidden in your skirt.

“You bitch how dare you speak back to me?” he raised his hand to land a hit on you but just when you were about to take out the sword, his had was stopped mid-air. You then saw a man who had red hair. As soon as the jerk saw that man, it seemed like his senses came back to him again.

“Asshole! Didn’t I tell you this is my shop and never make a scene in front of it”, the man shouted at the rogue twisting his arm. He winced in pain as he apologised and ran away.

The red haired man went into a shop, what seemed like a shop of vegetables and fruits. ‘Was he a farmer?’, you thought and followed him. Looking inside, there were so many fresh vegetables and also fruits in the shop.

“What do you want?”, a sharp voice questioned making you turn towards the owner of the voice. It was the same red head from before.

“Uh, I… I’m here to buy”, you said and looked around again trying to seem convincing. He huffed and sat on a chair fiddling with something which seemed like a machine. Your interest perked up and you asked him, “What are you making?”, moving closer to take a peek at the machine.

“Why should I tell you?”, he spat but as he looked at your face, he noticed that your eyes were sparkling with curiosity and interest.

“Tsk”, he clicked his tongue and explained about the way he wanted to make a machine bird as you listened to him carefully. He kept telling you how helpful machines would be if used in the correct way.

“But, don’t you think, this material you are using to make this bird is kinda… cheap and looks like its gonna break soon?”, you questioned for which he frowned and replied, “Don’t you think I already know that? I… I just don’t have the money”, mumbling the last part.

“Oh! I got an idea. Listen to me, uhh..”

“Eustass Kidd”

“So, Kidd As this bird is still in the beginning process, I’ll bring you the material tomorrow. Till then don’t touch this. Okay now I need to leave. I’ll be taking this basket here”, you said and took a basket of strawberries and tossed a coin to him.

“HEY WAIT!! YOU DIDN’T EVE- and she’s gone”, still with that grumpy look Kidd took his screw driver to continue working on the bird. But he remembered you telling him to wait till tomorrow. So he sat back in his chair and exhaled.

“Its not because she told me to wait. I… I want to continue this tomorrow”, he huffed and folded his hands. Then he remembered about the coin you threw.

He opened his palm and his eyes widened as he looked at the coin. It was a gold coin. A freaking gold coin for a basket of strawberries.

“No way. What the heck is she thinking?”, he carefully placed it back in the locker and thought to give it back to you tomorrow.

At the castle you came back and continued with your remaining day. You should leave tomorrow. So you need to make plans.

“Robin I need you to do something for me”, you explained how you needed high quality metal and also the timings of classes to be shifted. So, it did happen and you had continuous morning classes without breaks but, you were a free after them and it made you to take material Kidd wanted to make the bird. Changing out from your attire of a princess you went to the same shop as yesterday. There you found the man coming towards you as if he was waiting for you all along.

“I got the material you need”, you said as you placed it beside his table where the bird was supposed to be made.

“Were you waiting for me? Sorry I was late”, you said and he instantly replied, “Wha- Who was waiting for you?”

“Ah ok”, you muttered as you saw him instantly looking and taking the material with a faint pink shade on his cheeks. He looked just like a child exited to play with his toys.

“Where the hell did you even get these? These are clearly expensive?”, his sudden questions made your thoughts to break.

“Ah… I got it from the Kings dumpster”, you made the blankest expression trying to hide your lie.

“Kings Dumpster?! The King threw away this metal when it’s like this?”, he asked as his brows raised when you just nodded.

“Tsk… and here I am, trying to get re-rid of rust from metal. Using them for the 100th time”, he huffed.

You both sat opposite to each other and he worked on the bird as you learned about the work he was doing. Helping him with giving the appropriate tool at times, you had more fun than you ever had in your life. He tried to return the gold coin but you didn’t take it and made a deal to take vegetables or fruits in return, for which he agreed. You both fist bumped as an agreement of the deal.

From that day, you made your way out of the castle to meet Kidd. Surprisingly, he always waited for you to come to work on the bird. Meanwhile he somewhere started to call you little lady and you actually liked it. It became a routine for you to take a basket of veggies or fruits every time you left the shop. Sometimes he’d you’d tag along with him to his small farm. He was totally proud of his farm. His eyes showed it. Where you knew you never felt that feeling that he was feeling. Never once in your life you felt you were proud of something you did. He was living a complete different life than yours. You found your heart skip a beat every time Kidd smiled. You liked him.

Kidd was unique. He was terrible in showing his emotions but he was a good person. Every time you left the castle for him, seemed right. You actually felt happy seeing him and working with him. But of course, this happiness didn’t last long. Your parents wanted you to get married soon and told you to pick a groom for yourself in the ball that is going to be hosted next week. Bloody next week.

Because of the ball, you had to take even more classes for walking like a princess and also more fashionistas coming to find the perfect gown for you. Due to those, you couldn’t meet Kidd for 4 days.

Meanwhile, Kidd waited for you staring at the front door of his shop. Whenever the door opened, he met with disappointment because it wasn’t you. He couldn’t even continue on his bird. He had doubts on his feelings for you but now, it was clear for him that he liked you. Your thoughts haunted him. His heart earned for you. Only for you to return.

After a long hard day of work, you sneaked out of the castle in the evening and went to Kidd’s shop. You opened the door and your eyes met with Kidds. You both stared at eachother for a few seconds before he spoke.

“Come in”, you obliged and walked into the shop towards the desk where you both made bird. It was just like it was 3 days ago. “You didn’t continue to make the bird?”, you inquired as he just turned away and shook his head as he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Kidd, its late and I have to leave soon so listen to me”, his vision shifted to you as he gulped.

“But you just came, why do you have to leave?” he asked as he approached you and placed his hands on your shoulder.

“Aww did you miss me?” you tried to tease him but this time, he neither denied nor looked away from you blushing. He stayed silent for a while before he said, “I did”

You didn’t even expect that from Kidd. His hands travelled down from your shoulders to your hands. “I did miss you. So much that I couldn’t even touch that bird”, He looked serious. He placed one hand on your chin and looked into your eyes.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think your thoughts would haunt me that much when you didn’t come. I… I didn’t know when, why or how. But I know that, I have feelings for you little lady”, his voice trembled as he spoke the last bit.

“Kidd are you serious?” you asked placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch and nodded. His eyes looked desperate for your answer. Pulling him towards you, you connected your lips with his. The kiss was gentle and with so much of emotion.

Both pulled away to look into each other’s eyes. “I have feelings for you too Kidd”, you smiled and Kidd’s face lit up making you smile in return. He leaned and touched your forehead with yours and exhaled with relief. “Can I request you something Kidd?”, you asked and he nodded.

“Can you come to the castle this coming Wednesday?”

“To the castle? Why?”

“There is a ball going to be held and I want you to come”, you said and stepped back, away from his touch. “Now it’s my turn to wait for you, I should tell you something. So please come”, the last part sounded more like a pleading and with that you left the shop.

Kidd didn’t knew why you had to leave so early. His heart was beating so fast. Confused whether whatever happened now was real or not. He sat on his chair unable to remove your pleading face from earlier. Kidd looked at the bird which was unfinished and took the screw driver to continue working on it. Its been a while since he alone worked on something. It wasn’t a new feeling for him but still, he preferred to talk and have you around while he made it.

The day of the ball arrived. You wore your outfit and looked out the window at the crowd of people came to the castle. Men and women from so many places arrived there. With the help of Robin you made sure that when Kidd comes, he wouldn’t be stopped by any of the guards. The time was almost running out. The first dance was supposed to be started soon but you couldn’t find Kidd anywhere.

Your parents were urging you to find a partner and start the first dance. ‘So Kidd isn’t coming’, you thought and tilted your head up to prevent the tears falling out from your eyes. You pinched your skin trying to distract the pain away. Stepping on the ball room in your burgundy coloured dress, you walked with a straight face. Then suddenly your eyes fell on a person, who was trying to not be visible in the crowd but, his hair was definitely saying otherwise. You swiftly made your way towards that person.

People cleared way for you and it didn’t take long for you to meet the person with the red hair. He was wearing golden coloured suit and his hair was combed back neatly. He looked different but it was him. His cheeks turned the same colour of his hair. You chuckled and took his hand, pulling him towards the middle of the ball room. You placed your hands on his shoulder and pulled him closer to you. His hand trembled before he placed it on your waist. With that the music played and you both danced, with other people also dancing.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“How could I? You are a princess and why didn’t you tell me you were a princess?”

“Would you even talk to me like you did if you knew I were a princess?”

“That’s… true but… now here I am, with the princess Y/N in my arms”, he said pulling you closer. You giggled and pushed back the strand of hair which was on his forehead. You both smiled at each other and continued dancing. After the first dance, he pulled you away from the ball room and you followed. He walked towards the garden where no one was and took out something from under the bench.

“What did you bring?”, you asked. He turned and showed it to you. Your eyes went wide looking at the bird that he brought.

“You made her at last!” you exclaimed as he looked down shyly. “Yeah kind of made it. I wanted to show it to you today”

“I love it so much”, you said as you took it in your hands. It was your memory. The time you spent making it with Kidd. It was precious to you two.

“Keep it. It’s yours now”, he said as he smiled.

“Really?! I will take care of it so well”, you replied and jumped on him making him catch you quickly. You looked at him and leaned in for kissing him again. Now, it was passionate. No one to intrude as you were alone. Smiling you pulled back and leaned your forehead with his.

You now found a grumpy man, who would understand you and would really be the reason for you to smile.

Made with picrew

XOXOXOXO

I hope you liked it. Thankyou for reading.

A comment, Like/Vote, Reblog/Share would be appreciated!!

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[nat-20s]

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad. 

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show  applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of  a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon:  No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true.  Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look. 

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

[retvenkos]

sprinting through cobblestone streets |

The Dragon Prince - Callum, Rayla, and Ezra, x Platonic!Reader, slight fluff requested by @biqherosix​​

tw: a mob, feelings of inadequacy

word count: 2.3k

prompt: “have you always been this idiotic?”

A/N: alright, so i know the request just said callum,,,, and i was going for that originally,,,, but then this happened. i hope you don’t mind? i was going to rewrite it but then it was 2k words and i couldn’t part with it.

Summary: Being half-elf, half-human, there was nowhere that (Y/n) truly belonged. But perhaps their luck would change, when they run into a group of idiotic travelers about to be run down by an angry mob...

Being half-elf in the Human Kingdoms was risky living. (Y/n) had been born on the human side of the Breach, and yet, every day was a danger - a possibility that fear would threaten their very existence. (Y/n) had known very early on how to live as an outsider; they knew how to hide their more telling attributes and how to stay away from towns. They lived in secret, away from everyone else and only stopping into town when necessity called for it, but there was always a low level of risk, to their existence. Not a day passed where (Y/n) wasn't constantly looking over their shoulder; there were always on edge, even in the comfort of their own home.

(Y/n) had been to Xadia once, when their elven parent begged their Queen to take mercy on (Y/n), for they were just a child and a victim to their parent's whims. It wasn't their choice to be half anything - all they had ever wanted was a place to be whole. The Lux Aureans turned them away, and before (Y/n) could return home, they tried to run away.

They had foolishly thought that other elves would take them in - that perhaps Xadia was a more just place than their family had feared.

They had made it far, but not far enough. 

(Y/n) was brought back to the Human Kingdoms with their hood pulled over their head to hide their pointed ears. In Lux Aurea, it had been a horror that they did not have any horns. Here, in this place they would learn to call home, it was a blessing that there was less of them to hide.

(Y/n) had learned long ago to make no friends, to keep their head down and work hard, praying that perhaps, one day, they would be allowed into Lux Aurea as something other than the child of a traitor.

One day, (Y/n)'s parents had woken them in the middle of the night, pressing coin into their hand and telling them that it happened - they had been found, and they had to split up. They had kissed (Y/n) on their forehead, and it was the last they had seen of a friendly face for a year.

(Y/n) had run, only settling down to create roots when they had made it to Katolis - far from where each parent would be. They were careful, in this strange, new kingdom, settling in the thick of a wood where men rarely traveled, preferring to stick to the wider roads. For months, they lived without incident, only visiting villages for supplies twice - walking for days at a time so they weren't seen in the same place twice, and not coming from the same direction.

When supplies were running low once more, (Y/n) took the last of their coin and headed toward a new village - one further away, where no one would know their face. It had been a week's walk, but the burn in their thighs would be worth the protection. They slipped in amongst the crowd easily enough - the day was cold, the seasons changing to something with more of a bite and everyone had a thick cloak on, most of them with a hood pulled up, barely above the eyes. (Y/n) had found a villager to barter with easily enough, and it was when they had almost secured a reasonable deal that they heard the shouts that plagued their worst nightmares.

"You're an elf!"

Their blood ran cold.

(Y/n) had spun on their heel faster than lightning, their hand flying to the dagger they kept strapped to their side. Their heart was pounding with enough force to knock out any attacker they came up against, and despite the fear that struck their heart, (Y/n) kept a cool head. In a crowded marketplace like this, it wouldn't be long until innocent farmers became an angry mob, their ranks full of pitchforks and butcher knives. They expected to worst to greet them, but when (Y/n) turned, the horde of villagers wasn't looking at them at all, but three other travelers, one of which was unmistakably an elf.

"An elf? No way!" One of the travelers - a young boy with messy brown hair, chuckled nervously, projecting his voice in an almost comedic way, trying to wave off the villagers as the group slowly backed up, edging themselves towards the mouth of the street, where they might find a chance of escaping. "We're all very much human, here..."

(Y/n) slipped their bag of coin into their pocket, ducking and weaving through the crowd to edge their way closer to the ostracised group. If (Y/n) could find an outlet, maybe they could sneak off and save their own skin. But if they could create a distraction of some sort and pull the elf and her friends to safety, maybe they could be given some type of reward...

A reward that might earn them a place in Xadia.

 "My human friend is wearing an elven costume! Y'know, for... a play?"

(Y/n) sighed at the lame excuse before pushing over a street cart.

The villagers were startled, caught off guard by the loud crash and apparent destruction, and it was just enough time for (Y/n) to rush forward, seizing the elf's arm and dragging her forward out of the crowd. The boys followed in suit, and together they got a head start, sprinting through the cobblestone streets.

"Hey!"

The villagers got their bearings quick enough and were only more enraged by the idea of a chase. (Y/n) took a sharp turn down the narrow street that they had originally entered into town from, ushering the group forth. A hay cart stood in the middle of the street, and (Y/n) picked up the young boy that held a glow toad by the back of his jacket to help him vault over the obstacle. The other boy from earlier - the one with the terrible excuse, jumped over with a fair amount of success -  the adrenaline mixed with some quick thinking leading him to step on boxes nearby like makeshift steps, making the jump easier to handle. The elf jumped over with remarkable agility and (Y/n) followed in suit, the sudden movement pushing their cloak back, revealing their best-kept secret - their elven shaped ears. 

(Y/n) cursed but didn't have time to scramble for the hood, instead choosing to press forth, leading their new allies into the woods, where they had just enough time to find a hiding place from the mob, the hay cart having been the perfect barrier.

Only half of the villagers passed by their hideout, judging by the cacophony of footfalls and heavy breathing, accompanied by the gruff voice of one villager, who decided to round everyone up and wait by the main road - they would have to get out, somehow.

The group had managed to stay exceptionally still, while their pursuers cleared out of the wood, but (Y/n) could feel three pairs of eyes watching them, their level of scrutiny unsettling.

When all was quiet, (Y/n) dared to venture forth, and they found the woods uninhabited. The three that (Y/n) had saved were slower to exit their hiding spot, and when they did, they turned on (Y/n) quickly - the elf already whipping out her swords.

"Who are you?"

"You mean other than your savior?" (Y/n) said, putting their hand on the hilt of their dagger - just in case.

"What are you, then?" The elf took a step forward, her accent punctuating her every word. "You're not human, but you're not elf either."

"I'm both."

And the revelation was just enough to stun the elf, allowing the idiotic boy from earlier to step up. "Well, thank you for your help back there. Right, Rayla?" —he shot a glance at the elf and she pushed her lips together, clearly still on edge— "I'm Callum and this is Ezran with Bait. And you are...?"

"(Y/n)." They crossed their arms against their chest, narrowing their eyes.

"(Y/n)," Callum repeated, nodding his head slowly as he shot wayward glances back at his friends, who were still assessing the situation. Ezran peered up at (Y/n) with a trepidatious kind of respect while Rayla still held her swords out, her brow furrowed, mirroring (Y/n). 

"What were you doing in a human village, (Y/n)?" Rayla all but spat, tightening her grip.

"Apparently being smarter than you - have you always been this idiotic?" (Y/n) turned to look at Callum and he reeled backward, offended. "Going into a village market with an elf is a death sentence! You could have been caught."

"You went in there!"

"Because I had to! You are a human traveling with an elf - you could have easily gone without her."

Callum blinked, tilting his head to the side. Little Ezran walked up, tugging on his brother's sleeve. "(Y/n) has a point, y'know."

"Yeah, well, we just didn't think of it," Callum mumbled, earning a scoff from (Y/n), which elicited a glare from Rayla. "But in our defense, things were going smoothly until I tripped and pushed Rayla's hood back."

(Y/n) chuckled darkly, rolling their eyes, and Rayla took the opportunity to press forth. "What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be in Xadia?"

(Y/n) took a step closer, as though daring Rayla to make a move. "Shouldn't you?"

"Whoa!" Callum stepped between the two, gingerly pushing them apart. "Shouldn't we all be?"

(Y/n) shot him a suspicious look - one that they had been saddled with their whole life. It felt odd, almost, giving it to someone else. "Why would you be heading to Xadia? Why are you traveling with an elf, anyway?"

Callum chuckled nervously again, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand and pointing at (Y/n) with the other. "I mean, no better place than Xadia - right? The magic, the elves, the dragons..."

"Callum doesn't know what he's talking about," Rayla recovered, but there was a slight shake to her voice - a tell. "He's taking me to the Moonshadow Path - we're friends. He's not coming with me. Humans don't belong in Xadia."

But Callum winced at that, and Ezran looked down, his feelings hurt. If Rayla noticed, she found no point in disputing her statement, choosing instead to press forth.

"Do you?"

And (Y/n) thought of why they had saved this group of idiots in the first place... in the hopes that they would get the recognition needed to belong in Xadia. For a couple of humans, a glow toad, and a Moonshadow elf, they seemed pretty intent on making it to the magical world beyond the Breach. Whatever their reason, it must have been good, seeing as they banded together, despite the hatred that ran between their races. (Y/n)'s immediate reaction was to leave and never look back - face the consequences of saving these odd travelers and find a new village to buy grain from, continuing to live the way they always had - but they couldn't. For a reason that was beyond what (Y/n) had always thought to be true, a feeling that went beyond their mantra to make no friends and keep their head down, they felt the urge to stay.

Ignoring the voice in their head that screamed at them to not make such a stupid mistake, (Y/n) lifted their hand and pushed away Rayla's sword with the tip of their gloved finger.

"I don't belong anywhere. But I hoped that by saving you, maybe I could." 

Ezran took a sympathetic step forward, coming out from behind his friends, and looking (Y/n) deep in the eye. There was something in his gaze that made (Y/n) feel like he understood them, despite their lives being so different. Callum put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder and (Y/n) noticed it was in his eyes, too. They turned to Rayla, and she looked away, but there was a fury in her eyes - a familiar wave of anger that had to be righteously earned from being cast out, from being an outsider in a place that should have been home. 

Suddenly, it dawned on (Y/n) that this ragtag group of wanderers didn't belong anywhere, at least, not anymore, and were walking to Xadia with a hope that (Y/n) had lost long ago.

"You can belong with us if you want," Ezran spoke up, and his words seemed to have the conviction of one twice his age, as though he had been born to royalty. (Y/n) entertained the idea as they considered his words. He certainly held the air of a royal, and he had nice enough clothes to be in the nobility.

"Ezran." Rayla fixed him with a look, one that implied they had secrets to keep.

"They saved our lives, Rayla, we can't just leave them."

The elf hesitated, but Callum stepped forward, a bit of suspicion still swimming in his eyes, but something more hidden beneath. "What Ez means to say is that you can journey with us if you want."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure Rayla isn't going to kill me when my back is turned?"

"Not if you don't give me a reason to," Rayla said, and Callum turned to her with a poignant stare.

"We need all the help we can get, Rayla. We need to be safe if we're going to make it back to Xadia"

"Do you trust them with our cargo?"

(Y/n) cocked their head, and Rayla looked at them with a harsh glance. Callum sighed. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

"Alright, then," Rayla sighed, taking a step forward and extending her hand. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment before pulling off their glove, exposing their lack of a fifth finger, and clasping it with hers.

"You'll take me to Xadia?"

And Callum was the one to answer, shaking (Y/n)'s other hand with his own. "You can walk with us as long as you'd like."

-- taglist: message me if you want to be added to a taglist!

[heybeybey]

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Summary: Forced to retire from the Scouts due to a major injury, Levi thinks he'll be spending the rest of his days in domestic solitude. Petra, however, has another idea.

Loosely based on The Way of the Househusband.

Or: Captain Petra x Househusband Levi canonverse AU

AO3 Link

A/N: Okay I've had this outlined for WEEKS (no ending in mind tho) but I never got around to actually drafting it. But....... I had some time this morning and the inspiration after seeing this post so yay.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting for introducing me to The Way of the Househusband. It's cute and funny and DEFINITELY RIVETRA in another universe.

This is going be a drabble series btw but no assurance on when I'll be updating each chapter (My Royalty AU draft is glaring at this fic rn tbh). Some chapters will be based on the Netflix show but Levi's condition is a bit different from Tatsu's so it'll probably be loosely based at best.

And yes, the title is from the song My Girl. But I like this version since I think it fits Petra the most :3

Also also, we all know deep down that Levi wants to be a househusband so here you go.

- - -

Chapter 1: The Ceremonies

There was a time when his mind wandered to how his career in the Scouts would end. Levi always thought he'd die on the battlefield, just as he witnessed among his comrades. He'd accepted that reality, sometimes even waiting for it despite his will to continue fighting on.

For some reason, retiring has never crossed his mind.

"Honorably discharged due to major leg injury, incomplete spinal cord injury, and loss of right eyesight."

He can still hear the pity and sadness from Erwin's voice from that day in the hospital when they talked over where he will go from there. The doctors mentioned that his spine will heal over time, but his leg is broken way beyond repair. It's worse enough that amputation was considered at one point. He'd be good as titan food should he retain his current position in the scouts.

At first, he wanted to scream. He wasn't the type to show some outwardly emotion (except for when he's beating down new recruits or the three males in his squad) but being a part of the Survey Corps is what gave this shit of a life some meaning after he was pulled out of the underground.

Frankly, he didn't know what's next.

"Hey, Captain." Petra's sweet voice snapped Levi out of his thoughts and he forces himself to get out of his bad mood. This was her day and he'd be damned if he ruins it for her.

Levi takes her in and the corner of his lip quirks up. He feels pride fill his chest as his eyes strays a bit on the insignia freshly pinned on her uniform.

"I think I should be the one calling you that, Ral." He replies. "Congratulations."

Wheelchair-bound for what may be the rest of his life, Levi and his squad had to sit down and talk over what's next for the Scout's elites. The obvious choice was Eld, but Levi and the rest of the team were surprised when the blonde man turned down the promotion. He says that while he had the leadership skills and the years of experience that makes him more than qualified, he knew that he didn't have the same burning dedication to the cause as much as he'd witnessed in others.

Eld said that he'd be glad to support the next team captain instead. Oluo, while skilled, had often been too focused on his kill count. Gunther has a strategic mind but didn't really have the charm to bring people together.

So they all turned their attention to Petra.

To be honest, Levi had always wanted to promote Petra as his second-in-command. However, Scout regulations demanded a certain number of years that she didn't have yet at the time he first chose his elite squad. He'd never had a problem with Eld, but his and Petra's ability to synchronise on the battlefield is the reason why he'd always turned to her when he needed a second hand.

It makes sense in his eyes and to the rest of the team, even when Erwin and the other soldiers were doubtful of his choice. They've seen how ferocious Petra is during expeditions, but still had the heart to cry alongside her dying comrades. She's kind and helpful, but knows when a hard decision is needed to be made. She'd pitched in her ideas and opinions every time she accidentally passed by the officers' meeting sessions (she always brought them tea so she sometimes hear the conversations). This was often met with a surprised look from her higher-ups but having worked with Petra for quite some time, Levi would just smirk at his fellow veterans.

She's still rough around the edges and she definitely still has more room to improve, but the potential is there. He wouldn't have chosen her as part of his team in the first place if he didn't see that fire.

He wasn't surprised that Eld, Gunther and Oluo supported her, even when Petra was terrified to accept such a responsibility. Levi was firm in his decision.

In the end, Erwin stamped on his approval.

Levi was the one who pinned the insignia on her signifying her new position during today's pinning-on ceremony.

- - -

"Hey, Captain!"

"I think you should stop calling me that, Petra."

"Sorry. Habit." The ginger blushes slightly as she steps closer inside the apartment, basket in hand. "I bought something for you."

She brings out a few fruits from the basket, laying it down on the dining table in his humble apartment. "The farmer's market was on sale today and I had the chance to pass by before they closed."

"You didn't have to buy me all these, Petra."

"I had to use my pay raise for something, Captain," she jests. He wheels himself towards her to assist her with unloading the basket and they both work in silent contentment.

"So, how's your first day?" Levi asks after washing the fruits. Petra's face lights up at his question and the whole room seems to come alive as she chatters on.

"Holy Maria, Captain. I didn't know the team can be this stupid. No wonder you had dark eyebags after training us for years!"

- - -

It's been three months since he resigned from the Scouts. The new captain never fails to come home to the apartment he's renting near the Scout HQ everyday.

Come home? Tch. How delusional can you get.

He'd welcome her back every expedition and every training day. A part of him feels a bit of guilt gnaw on him when he sees how tired Petra is whenever she comes home, thinking of the time when he was her direct commanding officer.

"Captain, can I sleep here tonight?"

Now, he sees the sorrow and fatigue in her eyes. "You're always welcome here, Petra."

He offers to give up his bed for the night but she declines, saying that she'll be fine on the couch. She's unnaturally quiet, but he knows that this is how she typically is after expeditions.

They're both on the couch right now and she snuggles closer to him. Levi motions for her to lay her head on his lap, their boundaries thinning with every single visit.

He's quiet when he sees the tears start to fall from her eyes. Soon, Petra's sobbing and she wraps her arms desperately around him. His hand starts to slowly run through her ginger locks, hoping it gives her some comfort.

"She was the last in my and Oluo's batch." She starts, voice shaking and he gives her space to talk and mourn her comrade. "I wanted to save her... but it was either her or compromise the mission. I had to give the order."

"I'm sorry." Because if someone understands her better, it's him.

- - -

"Levi?"

It's the scout's day off today and they're all allowed to leave the vicinity to visit friends and family, or simply just to fuck around if they wanted.

Petra, not surprisingly, decides to spend another weekend with him.

"Hmm?" He's currently preparing their lunch, wheeling himself around the kitchen area.

"Did you ever think about settling down when you were still in the scouts?"

He cocks an eyebrow at her question. "And leave a widow crying on my grave? I didn't even have the time to date, Petra."

And he didn't even want to date someone else. Not when he kept having wet dreams about his own subordinate at that time.

"Well, you have a chance now, right?" Petra starts to help with laying down the dishes on the table. He looks at her, eyes taking in her body language. She's doing that thing with her hands again where she tries to occupy it with things to do whenever she's nervous. She's too tense for this to be some absent chatter.

"Just spit it out, Petra."

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm always here. In this apartment. Whether I'm back from training or meetings or expeditions," she starts. Levi wheels himself forward to grab their food from the small kitchen but he attentively listens to each of her words. Seeing that he won't be replying, Petra decides to continue.

"I like coming home to you, Levi. And I'm still devoted to you." Petra nervously says, the redness on her cheeks intensifying. Levi feels his heart thump at her last sentence. He stops what he's doing and looks straight into her amber eyes, the same moment as she reaches out to delicately hold both of his hands. "I'd like to continue doing so... if you'll have me in another way."

Bold as ever is the first thing that fondly came to his mind. He feels emotion start to climb up his throat but he never wavers in staring back at her. The next thing that came to mind wasn't exactly a thought, and the answer leaves his mouth with a certainty he didn't know he had.

"Okay," he quietly replies. Not much of a talker, as usual. Still, his sure answer was quite a surprise to the both of them.

Was it loneliness? That fear that he'd most likely die alone because of his automatic ability to push people away? Maybe it's some deep hidden desire to live a domestic life with someone—something that he allowed himself to fleetingly dream of while he was still in that underground hellhole—that he has since accepted wouldn't be in his future.

Until now.

He and Petra decided to have a shotgun wedding that same afternoon.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

The Time Of The Season

A/N: Hey guys! I finally felt slightly good enough to post this and hopefully, it does this story some justice. The wedding is coming up and a surprise or two is in store before this whole craziness wraps up! All of the love from me to you and thank you for being patient with me!

Warnings: Fluff, smut, tw: slight somnophilia, tw: slight choking, tw: daddy kink, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, creampies (because I'm so predictable), oral sex (F receiving), all kinds of warm fuzzies (because again I love these two), squirting

(PLEASE for the love of Satan let me know if I miss a tag or TW, I try to be so hyper-aware and I miss tags all the time, I am so sorry)

The light shone through the cream curtains once again in your soft bedroom. The rays of sunlight bathing the cotton sheets as you woke up to the sound of his breath panting on the back of your neck.

The baby hairs standing in goosebumps as the hot air ebbed and flowed over your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pulling you into him like a stuffed animal, forcing his morning wood to bury itself into the crevices of your asscheeks. You laughed slightly, eyes still shut, bathing in the morning sun as you listened to the morning sounds. The birds chirping, a lawnmower in the distance stirring, along with someone hammering something down the road. It was another lazy Sunday.

Flip didn't have work, and it was the only day out of the week you both truly had for the two of you together. And you both made the most out of it doing the simple tasks you loved of course, on top of planning a stressful wedding, to which you both shoved aside for this day and this day only.

It was perfect, the feeling of him tightening his grip on your waist as he began to stir awake as well. His gruff moan in between your shoulder blades hid his tired eyes to the morning sunlight. He pecked the skin with his lips, rubbing up and down your midsection as you melted into him.

“Good morning, cowboy,” you whispered, running a small hand through his bed head as he gruffed a reply back.

“Mornin’,” he rose from behind you, laying a head between your neck and shoulder as he pushed into your head massage, “how did you sleep honey?” he whispered back, kissing and licking on your earlobe.

“Mmm, so good,” you said with a slight gasp, feeling his big hand knead your naked tit, hearing his graveled voice moan in his throat as he felt your ass push back on his pelvis.

“Is my butterfly all wet?” he groaned, his cock stiffening even harder as he heard your pretty voice sing for him, “did I not do my job last night?” smiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, running his other hand to cup your cunt in his grip, your folds completely slicked with arousal.

“Jesus, honey,” he growled, inhaling your sweet floral scent as you moaned, your hips pushing into his digits as he circled your bud with his middle finger slow and steady.

“I’ll always need you, Phil,” his tip twitched hearing your gorgeously shrill voice whisper his name.

“Just say the words, Y/N, I’ll make ya feel good,” inching his cock in between your warm thighs, his eyes rolling back in his head from the touch of your supple skin on his aching member.

“Fuck me, cowboy,” gripping his cheek from behind in a searing kiss, his hips pushing his dick deep into you with a single thrust, the feeling causing the both of you to groan in pleasure as your tongues touched each other.

“So, fuckin’ good for me,” he grunted, picking up the pace as he gripped your hip in a fervor, “I love you so much, Y/N,” panting as he kissed up and down your neck, bathing your mewls for him.

“I-I love you m-most,” you gasped, his tip gliding over your walls in the most tantalizing of ways, causing you to grip at the sheets in bundles while your mouth fell open in absolute pleasure.

“T-that’s it butterfly,” he cooed, picking up his pace again, slightly, to rub even faster on that spot he came to know very well, “you cum all over this cock,” he growled, bringing his free hand to grip your throat.

Your eyes rolling back in your head as the oxygen supply was depleting. Your moans and writhing only spurring his ministrations faster as he rubbed the spot to stoke that fire to a full blaze.

The feeling was euphoric. Your release came over you in a cascade of sparkles behind your closed eyes. The waterfall began from your crown to your toes as it washed over you in a stimulated haze. His words and actions only prolonging the high as he felt your velvet cunt clench around him.

“Jesus f-fucking,” he punched in once more, the hot gravy releasing into your hole in a flood as he gritted his teeth, his head resting in between your neck still while you pet his matted hair.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, kissing him in bliss as you felt his cum coat your walls, the warmth from the sun no match as you reveled in his release.

“Mmm, I’m glad I could help,” he panted, kissing you again, this time more sweetly as your breaths timed downward, and the highs subsided slowly.

“What are we up to today honey?” gripping your ass cheek as he slid himself out of you, making sure to stuff the dribble back up where it belonged, loving the little moans you released as he did so.

“What we usually do,” stretching yourself out while he hovered over you, kissing every inch of exposed skin and whispering pretty little things as he did so. You gripped his face after the tenth kiss on your stomach, bringing his handsome features to strike your soul as you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

“I just love you,” whispering as he lowered himself to kiss you ever so softly, “so much,” your noses touching as your eyes closed in unison, taking each other in as best you could, his hands coming to rub your cheeks too.

“I love you the most,” he barely whispered, kissing you again, the feeling of his mustache tickling your upper lip in the best way.

“We should take the dogs to the market with us today,” he sat up, rubbing the side of his neck, his muscled back tensing as he groaned from the soreness.

“I think that’s a good idea, cowboy,” sitting up to bring your delicate hands to his shoulder blade, rubbing circles slow and steady as you felt him relax from your touch.

“Did you sleep on this wrong?” hearing him wince and moan as you rubbed the knot out from the muscle.

“Possibly,” he chuckled, “I’m just gettin’ old,” laughing out loud as he grunted up from the bed, heading to the bathroom to get the shower started for the two of you.

“Psh,” you threw the sheets off yourself, your naked form glowing in the sunlight with a warm glisten of sweat and beauty, “you’re anything but,” finding your way to the bathroom too.

_____________

Spring in Colorado was magical. The wildflowers were blooming everywhere you turned, the smell of the crisp mountain air, the slight bite in the wind as the clouds rolled by. It was all as if it had been in a storybook. And the city was booming with the end of Winter. Shops opened up their doors, restaurants had outdoor seating, and the most anticipated market had come back into the streets as farmers and salesmen alike showed off their wares and the people flocked from all over to get a taste of the local goods.

Flip and you loved to go on Sundays. The crowds were lesser as people were in church or doing something else for the day, and the produce was fresher and easier to spot than on any given Saturday. The flowers were also to die for; the array of colors cascaded in bright pinks, blues, indigos, and yellows all over the landscape.

The babies tagged along, clad in their sweaters to keep them warm in the breeze, and in booties to which Flip insisted as their feet needed to be protected from possible injury. They smelled the flowers, sat next to the booths with their daddy while mommy browsed through the picks of the day.

The deal always was to visit every booth regardless of a purchase or not. Your theory was that maybe you’d find something you didn’t even know you needed, to which Flip always rolled his eyes at being the bag carrier.

“Honey,” after the millionth booth it seemed, “the dogs are tired and I’m starving,” he almost whined, the babies sitting at his feet with their tongues hanging out, the bags everywhere as his hands got tired of carrying the loads.

You came out of the mecca of flowers, carrying several bouquets, “which one babe?” showing him the array you had in your arms.

“Butterfly,” he whined again, sighing as you waited for a response, “just pick one I don’t care which one it is... I just want a fucking hamburger,” watching you roll your eyes at his childlike attitude.

“Honey, please just tell me which one, I can’t decide between them,” begging him to answer with something as you were starving too.

“Fuck,” he grunted, adjusting himself so he could see them better, “I like those,” pointing at the bouquet with peonies all over them.

“I knew I loved you,” smiling ear to ear as he’d picked the exact one you wanted him to, skipping to the cashier to purchase the blooms.

He took the load to the car while you took the baby’s potty, making sure they were okay before deciding on a place to sit down and eat.

You both decided on a small bistro that had outdoor seating. A less popular one so you could sit and hear each other speak while letting the dogs lay under the chairs.

You both ordered drinks and skimmed over the menu items, settling on stuff to share rather than getting separate entrees. You loved the intimacy of having similar palates, reveling in the flavors together while you discussed details about the day, the week coming up, and just being in each other’s company.

Flip had been wound a little too tight lately. Well, he always was, but it had been elevated since this big murder case came across his desk. It was a string of them, all seemingly connected, but with no real evidence to link them together.

This frustrated him to no end, tracing back and forth on the same details, trying to find any sort of linkage, and coming up with only dead ends. The most aggravating part had to be that with every step forward in the case, there happened to always be another assault or murder stringing up to cloud the evidence in more confusion. It had to be coincidental, you kept telling him when he came home smelling of heavy cigarette smoke, there had to be a piece to this puzzle.

He always got his man. That was why he had been promoted to homicide. He was a good detective, looking through every shrivel of evidence until his eyes crossed. Not leaving any stone unturned. And if this killer was to be caught, he had to be the man to find him come Hell or high water.

But today wasn’t the day for that kind of talk. Today was the one day he found solace in being in reality. That reality, of course, being you and the life he had built out of nothing so suddenly.

He silently reveled in your musings, loving the sound of your voice as you spoke of wedding details and such. He still couldn't believe that this was his life. That you were here, changing it in all the best ways. Making it worth living and worth all the struggle it took him to get there.

He drowned in your laughter, your gestures, the way you sipped on your wine, the way the lights glimmered in your eyes and the sun shined on your skin. How the curves of your body hugged the dress you chose, the supple skin on your chest peeking from the fabric, how your eyelashes batted in the light, the way your hair flowed in the light breeze. You were mesmerizing. And you were all his… Forever.

The shimmer of that diamond on your finger stoked it all for him. The whole drama that had led up to that Godforsaken proposal. It made him shudder to his core. But in the end, it settled your lives into one. You had all the strings attached, and now they were falling into the culmination of the union. And hopefully more in the future.

He stared into your eyes, hoping and wishing that you’d want more after the vows had been said. Wanting to give you everything and more to make you the happiest forever. He never had pegged himself to be a hopeless romantic, throwing more caution to the wind as he settled night after lonely night in his bachelor pad, which had now been renovated to meet your needs on top of his.

He loved his life now. Never wanting any of it to change for the worse, and he was determined to make that perfect, even if everything else wasn’t.

“You okay honey?” gripping his free hand and rubbing the palm as you kept sipping your wine, “where’d you go?” your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you watched him snap out of his thoughts.

“Just lookin’,” He smiled, his dimples coming out to make your heart melt as he put both hands to clasp yours, bringing them to his lips to kiss the soft skin.

“Why are you so perfect?” you cooed, his smile lighting up the entire outdoors seemingly as his teeth showed.

“I’m not at all,” he laughed, rubbing your skin in his to warm your hand up from the sun setting chill.

You huffed a laugh, putting your free hand under your chin while you cocked your head to the side, melting at his preciousness.

He was your perfect match. The other half of your soul. The light and darkness, the Alpha to your Omega. And he was perfect… To you.

“You are,” whispering just above a breath, “you’re everything,” the tears threatening to spill as you reveled in the adoration from him.

“You’re my everything,” his voice matching yours as he leaned over the table, meeting your lips with his in the slightest of kisses, only to be broken by the faint whimper of Waddles.

“I think we need to get them home, honey,” he chuckled, looking at the exhausted pumpkins pawing at his boots.

“Agreed,” taking a huge swig while he gestured to the waiter for the bill.

____________

Flip had insisted on bringing every bag in, putting the contents away just how you liked them, taking the dogs out to go potty, and putting them in bed for the night, so you could get ready to relax. You tried to convince him that you could and were capable of helping, to no avail as his sternness only made it into a fight you knew you’d never win.

So you trudged upstairs, getting yourself all pampered for bed, wearing a silk slip, and putting your hair up in a messy bun while you lotioned yourself up for the evening.

You took down the sheets, the cotton feeling so soft and serene as you flipped on the salt lamp in the corner of the bedroom, making the ambiance calm and collected while you flipped some quiet music on to set the mood.

Time Of The Season softly wafted from the record player, settling you into the welcoming bed with your book while you waited for your man to slide in for the night.

You heard his heavy footsteps come up from the living room, revealing his exhausted frame as he sighed upon seeing you all ready for him.

“Are they okay?” putting your book down on your lap as you pat the side of the bed for him to lay on.

“Just fine honey,” he grunted, pulling his boots off and unbuttoning his flannel to reveal his rippling pectorals in the soft light of the bedroom.

“That’s pretty,” he huffed, seeing the slitted silky dress you’d chosen and how it contrasted with the white sheets, “I mean you look pretty in anything, but that’s…” he trailed off seeing you push your legs up and outward to reveal your bare cunt to his eyes.

“What now honey?” you moaned, snaking a finger to open up the dress more and play with your pussy in front of him.

He immediately got down to the foot of the bed, moving his head to meet within inches of your fingers, marveling at the delicate touches you made on your lips.

“So… Pretty,” eyes growing wide as he watched your hole suck your fingers, begging to be fucked by him.

“I’m so wet for you, cowboy,” shoving three fingers in as far as they could go, feeling his hot breath ghosting your thighs while he sucked hickeys on them.

“I bet those fingers aren’t big enough for you, huh, butterfly,” squeezing a huge bruise on your left inner leg, the feeling making your head fall back as he did so.

“Not even close,” you gasped, feeling his thick hand pull yours from its spot, your cunt grasping at nothing as he marveled at your hole.

“Didn’t think so,” smirking as he sucked your digits dry, moaning at the taste of you.

“Daddy will take care of you, honey,” he cooed, blowing some air on your aching clit to watch your legs shudder from the breeze.

“I’m gonna suck this cunt until your cryin’,” spreading your folds open as he latched his vacuum suction on your bud, the cry you let out reverberating on the walls of the room as your hand found the back of his head, shoving his face further into your supple cunt.

“Mhmm,” he moaned, the vibration from his throat causing you to audibly scream as he assaulted your pussy. His other hand finding your hole as it sucked two fingers in deliciously, the squelch of your cunt making his dick harder and harder as he kept going.

“P-Phil!” literally crying as he ate you out like the animal he was, the feral noises under your slip sending you in hoards of pleasure and euphoria as he sucked your clit fervently.

Your thighs twitched and shook as he kept going and going, the grip on his head tightening as he felt your walls close in on his fingers in the best way. The damn broke then, letting out a stream of cum from your cunt as you cried endlessly on his movements.

“P-Phil holy s-shi-!” his suction breaking to open his mouth to the stream of spend that coated his face so beautifully.

“I fuckin’ told ya I’d make ya cry,” he growled, pulling himself up to meet your face, “you taste so goddamn delicious,” kissing you so hard the spend dribbled down your throat too, sending you into another stimulated haze as he rubbed his tip with your gaping entrance.

“You want daddy to fuck you?” lining himself up to watch you beg for his cock, your pretty moans and eyes signaling how badly you wanted him inside you.

“O-oh f-fuck,” your mouth falling open again as he buried himself in your sweet pussy, the warm feeling coating his cock in the best way.

“God d-dammit h-honey,” he managed to grit out, speeding up his movements after he had hooked your legs to meet his chest, pushing them towards you in a pretzeled fashion as his large frame loomed over your sweat-stained bodies.

“You’re s-so fuckin’,” he strained, the muscles in his neck along with their veins protruding in the sexiest way as he shoved himself into your guts more and more.

“Use y-your words c-cowboy,” you managed to choke out, feeling your second release creep up the more he pounded into your open womb.

“T-tell me what you w-want,” grabbing his inky locks that had since become soaked, his muscles taut as he plummeted further into you, your bodies becoming one as he breathed heavily and grunted with every stroke.

“G-god I l-love you Y/N,” he said, making searing eye contact as he watched your gorgeous face conjure in absolute pleasure underneath him. He could live in this moment forever. Get lost in your perfect screams and moans for him. The way you gripped his arms to pull him even further into you as he fucked your insides raw. He loved this. He loved you like this.

“I-I love y-you P-Phil,” you managed the words, feeling your release hit you like a freight train. The warmth of his cock gliding over your walls completely overwhelming your senses. The stars blinking behind your eyes as you melted into his body, your limbs releasing just enough for him to push your legs to meet the rest of your body and the mattress below.

“F-fuck,” he grunted out, feeling your body convulse under him, his grip above the bed frame tightening as he split you completely in half, your velvet cunt fluttering around him as he came closer and closer.

“I-I’m gonna fuck a b-baby into you h-honey,” the feral groan escaping his lips going straight to your cunt as you opened your eyes again. Your big mountain man, completely falling apart over you in a sweat-covered pile of muscle and brawn.

“Y-you want that?” egging him on as you pulled him closer, your foreheads touching as he came so close.

“Mhmm f-fuck yes,” he moaned, feeling you pulse around him, loving how he mewled for you, “I-I want you so f-full of me by this time n-next year I-I won’t be able to t-take my h-hands off you,” gritting his teeth so hard at this point.

You cunt fluttering as the sinking feeling in your lower stomach came from his words. The thought of being the way he imagined, full of him, making you want it so much more than you’d ever thought before.

“What are you waiting for daddy?” you moaned, feeling his dick harden even more as he came to the edge, “knock me the fuck up,” voice above a whisper as you stared into his eyes, seeing his release as he dumped his hot seed into your core.

“M-mother of G-God,” trying not to break eye contact as he filled you with him, the hot spend feeling so good as it coated your fertile walls to the brim.

He held you both there for a few moments, spurts of cum exiting his tip as he watched your gorgeous face smile back at him, petting him and egging his release on and on.

“Such a good daddy,” whispering to him while he caught his breath, kissing your hands as his dick softened in your pussy.

“I was serious,” he looked back at you, feeling him slip out of you in a gush of spend, only to be plugged by two fingers as he sat back on shins.

He grabbed a pillow, forcing it under your hips while his digits still were lodged in your cunt.

“You’re gonna be knocked up by next year,” the smile on your face a clear indication of how you felt about the premonition.

“I can’t wait,” a low chuckle leaving his chest as he removed his fingers, lowering himself over you to kiss your perfect lips, caressing your side, and then circling over your stomach to the point of it slightly tickling.

“I can’t either butterfly,” he whispered on your lips, kissing you again and again.

_______________________

SPOILER ALERT: SARA IS A WHORE AND THIS IS GONNA GET WORSE LMAO...

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[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #34

Victor

It's been an unusual week.

I feel like I say that a lot, but maybe it's because over the last several months we've had a ton of stuff going on in our lives, and sometimes it can be hard to take in. Maybe some of it isn't that unusual, but it seems like we have times when multiple events, good and bad, are all happening at once. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest.

Yuri and I have been getting along better since our unexpected overnight stay in the Hideout. We really needed to get some issues out in the open, and the fact that we sort of got stuck there might've been a blessing in disguise. It gave us a chance to talk in private, without worrying about any interruptions.

Unfortunately, though, despite our progress, it really hadn't been a great night. Yuri was a lot more ill than he wanted to admit, and I'm certain the accommodations weren't all that comfortable for him. His pain was making him restless, and he kept waking up through the night. I didn't get much sleep either. I was too worried about him.

In the morning, he insisted he could climb down from the Hideout by himself. I didn't like the idea, but I didn't argue. I just told him to take his time. Getting down felt like it took ages, but we both made it to the ground without incident, although Yuri did sort of fall over once his feet hit solid earth. I sat on the leaf-covered dirt and held him on my lap, and he rested for a while before we started making the short journey back to Mom's house.

Mom was none too pleased when when we finally showed up. Apparently, she'd been texting both of us like crazy since the previous night, but since we'd both left our phones at the house, we hadn't replied. She said she was about to go out looking for us, so it was lucky for everyone that we came back when we did.

I think Mom probably would've given us a lecture, but considering the state Yuri was obviously in, it seemed she thought better of it. She hugged me and made a sort of air-hugging gesture in front of Yuri, and then told us to get cleaned up. She mentioned that she and Julian had intended to go to the farmers' market, and with our return, the plan was back on the agenda. She'd see us when she got back, she said, and she extracted a promise from me that I'd give her a full explanation later.

I had absolutely no intention of telling her everything, but I figured I could explain in sufficient detail to satisfy her. There are some things a guy's mother doesn't need to know about what goes on between him and his husband, you know? I used to tell her almost literally everything, but I'm finding that, since she visited us this summer, I'm less inclined to share every little detail with her.

Anyway, after that, we went downstairs and I helped Yuri in the bath. Then I got him dressed in the warmest PJs he had with him, made sure he took his medication, and tucked him into bed with his hot water bottle. I asked him if he wanted me to stay with him for a while, but he said no, so I gave him a little kiss on the forehead and promised to check on him in an hour or so.

He was curled up and crying quietly as I was leaving the room. Yuri hardly ever cries, so I knew he was feeling really bad. I guessed that we were in for a rough couple of days.

That was Sunday. By Tuesday, which was the day before yesterday, he was doing better, much to my relief. He got out of bed when I did, and even had a few bites of my fruit salad at breakfast.

I've just kind of gotten used to him picking food off my plate rather than always having a plate of his own. When it comes to eating, whatever is least stressful for him works for me. I've even been known to feed him when he's really ill, as bad as I’m sure that may sound to some people. But I mean, needs must, right? I'm willing to go with anything that keeps him from becoming undernourished, and if that sometimes involves me holding the spoon, so be it. I think he likes the attention in the moment too, even though I know he worries about it in hindsight.

Actually, the topic of me feeding Yuri brings me around to the really interesting thing that happened on Tuesday afternoon. Thinking that the fresh air would do him good, I coaxed him to come outside with me. It was overcast, but it was warm enough not to need jackets. We sat at the picnic table in the back yard, and I patiently fed him oatmeal sweetened with maple syrup while we watched the comings and goings of several blue jays from the nearby bird feeder.

That's when we met the neighbours from across the street.

Even if I didn't know everyone, I'd thought I could at least recognize all the people who live on this block of Canal Street and the intersecting street, Foundry Lane. It was slightly disconcerting to realize I had no idea who the elder couple puttering away in their front garden were. I don't know how they knew I was watching them, but at some point, they started watching Yuri and me as well. Every so often, I caught them looking our way. Eventually, their inquisitiveness must've got the best of them, because they dusted themselves off and meandered across the street.

I guessed they were probably in their late sixties or early seventies; old enough to be elders but not too old to have plenty of energy left in them. The man was thin and had a leathery, deeply lined face, like he'd spent a lot of time outdoors without sunscreen. The woman had delicate facial features that reminded me a lot of Yuri's grandmother, who I'd met a handful of times at family gatherings I'd been compelled to go to. She carried herself with the same type of grace and economy of movement as Yuri's mom and grandmother, too. I could easily imagine this lady had been a stunning beauty when she was young.

More than anything else I could say, I'll say this; they aren't the least bit shy. Most people would start with hello. They started with a question.

"I hope you don't think we're being nosy," the man said. "But we haven't seen you around here before. Are you new to the neighbourhood?"

I had to smile at that. "No," I told him. "I grew up here in this house, actually, but we don't live here now. We're just visiting. I'm Grace Nelson's son. Do you know her?"

"Of course," said the woman. "Dr. Grace and Dr. Julian are lovely people. They take excellent care of our cats. If you're her son, then you're Victor. Correct?"

"Yeah," I said. "You have us at a disadvantage, though."

"My apologies. I'm Kimiko Miyazaki, and this is my husband, Robert MacAllister. You can call me Kim if you like. Everyone does."

Her English was flawless, and I guessed that she'd either been born here or that she'd been here a very long time. Yuri and I exchanged a look at hearing her name, and I immediately thought of our former neighbour, Kimiko Ishida, from Wakabamori. Yuri seemed to brighten a little. Somehow I doubted he would be calling her by the very English-sounding nickname of Kim.

"Pleased to meet you, Miyazaki-san," Yuri said, and I don't think he even recognized the fact that he'd slipped fluidly from English to Japanese.

Kim's face registered mild surprise. "Well... it's been a long time since I've heard anyone but my children speak to me in my first language. And you are...?"

"I'm Yuri," he said, blushing and suddenly looking shy and embarrassed. He slid closer to me on the bench and leaned against me. I put my arm around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"Yuri's my husband," I clarified.

"Sorry," Yuri said meekly. "I should've said."

"It's okay," I said. "Don't worry."

Both elders were peering at us with a combination of curiosity and concern, and I couldn't help wondering what they were thinking. Kim's gaze seemed to drift to the half-empty bowl behind us on the table, and I wondered if she'd been able to see exactly what we'd been doing before they came over.

As it turned out, I didn't have to wait long to find out what was going through Robert's mind.

"Not to pry, but are you all right?" he asked. I'm sure he meant Yuri, but he was making eye contact with me.

"He's not feeling well today," I said.

"We're sorry to hear that," said Kim. "It's good that you're able to get outside, though. Fresh air and a change of scenery are important for the mental health, especially if you've been ill for a long time."

"How do you know—“ I started.

Almost at the same time, Yuri said, "Excuse me?"

It was Kim's turn to look embarrassed. "I really don't mean to overstep. I was a nurse for thirty-five years, and I spent over half my career as a clinical specialist. I've seen a lot of people with long-term and chronic illnesses. But, I realize it's none of my business. It's just that I notice things, and these days, my mouth sometimes gets ahead of my brain." She smiled sheepishly. "I'm going to blame old age."

"Perhaps we ought to change the subject," said Robert.

"Yes," his wife replied. "That might be best. My apologies."

"It's fine," I said. I glanced down at my husband. "Yuri?"

He nodded. "Yes, it's okay. You're right. I do have a chronic illness, but I'd rather not discuss it."

"Certainly," Kim said. "We can talk about something else. Where are you visiting from?"

"Mt. Komorebi,” he told her.

"Now, there's a coincidence," she said. "That's where I'm from, as it happens. I left when I was in my twenties, but I still have family that we visit every few years, and Robert and I are thinking of making a permanent move there as soon as we sell our house."

"How long have you lived in that house?" I asked.

"We bought it about five years ago.”

"If you moved here five years ago, that's why we didn't recognize each other ," I said. "I moved out around that time, and my cousin and I had a flat over by the college. Then I had a place in that big apartment complex across town. You know Sage Estates? I was there until I moved to Mt. Komorebi.”

“We know Sage Estates. Our son lives there."

"The house was supposed to be our retirement home," Robert explained. "We were going to live here with our daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. But, we'd only been in the place for a year and a half before our daughter got offered an important job opportunity in San Myshuno that she couldn't pass up. Life in a big city isn't for us, so off they all went and left us here."

"Us and the cats," Kim amended.

"Yes, us and the cats, and the ghost."

I wasn't sure I'd heard him correctly. "The ghost?"

"A lovely Japanese lady. We think we may have accidentally brought her here from Mt. Komorebi in an antique vase," he said. "She likes to arrange flowers, so we try to cut some from the garden for her and set them in her vase as often as we can."

Despite myself, I found that I was starting to like these nosy, quirky old people. I said, "Are you going to leave her in the house for the new owners, or are you going to take her home?"

"That depends on what she wants, doesn't it?" he said. "She seems to like it here, but she only speaks Japanese, so she might not be happy to stay with the new owner if they can't communicate with her."

"You talk to her?"

"Yes. She doesn't understand me very well, unfortunately, but she talks up a storm with Kim."

"Maybe Yuri and I should try to speak to her," I suggested.

At that, Yuri gave me the look he always gives me when he thinks I'm talking nonsense. It was like, Please don't encourage them. Personally, I didn't see any harm. If they seriously thought there was a flower-arranging ghost lady in their house, who was I to argue?

"You're welcome to come over any time," Kim said. "We can't guarantee Sachiko will be around, though. She doesn't show herself every day. But, we can at least promise we'll chat with you, and offer you tea and a snack."

“And you’re welcome to use our pool,” Robert offered. “It’s heated. It’s very therapeutic.”

"Thanks. That sounds great," I said.

We chatted for a few more minutes before Kim and Robert decided they'd better get back to their landscaping project. We said goodbye and promised that we'd come over to see them in the next day or two.

For the rest of the day, I was kind of preoccupied with thoughts of the neighbours across the street and their allegedly haunted house. They seemed like intelligent, mentally sound people, and there was no hint of joking or irony when they mentioned their ghost. Clearly, they believed she was real. As for me, I couldn't decide if I believed in ghosts or not. Part of me wanted to, but another part was content to accept that existence ends when life does.

That night, as Yuri and I were getting ready for bed, I asked him what he thought about it, even though I knew what he'd likely say.

"Do you think she's real?" I said. "Sachiko, I mean. The ghost across the street."

"About as real as mermaids and vampires," Yuri said.

"Mermaids are real."

"I know what you think you saw on Sulani."

"I know you don't believe me about that," I said. "But, regardless of whether mermaids and vampires are real or not, ghosts still could be. They're humans, not mythical creatures."

"Once people pass away, that's it," he said. "They don't linger in suburban houses and make flower arrangements."

"So, do you think Robert and Kim are hallucinating or something, then? Or that they're just making it up?"

"What I think is, they might've lost somebody very important to them, and that it's comforting for them to imagine she's still with them in some way." Yuri gave me a soft, indulgent smile. "Maybe that's what you want to believe, too. That it's possible somehow for people you loved to still be with you."

I shook my head. "No, that's not it."

"If it helps you, it's okay to believe it,” he said. "I don't know what it's like to lose someone close to me, but I think any way that helps a person cope is fine, as long as it isn't harming anyone."

"I don't think believing in ghosts is a good way to cope," I said. "Not for me, anyway. I wouldn't want to think of Dad and Caroline as ghosts. That'd be horrible, hanging around forever and constantly reliving the memory of how they died." The idea of ghost baby Caroline being terrified and confused for eternity as she tried to make sense of her senseless death made me want to cry. "Something like that would definitely be harmful."

"I suppose so," Yuri said.

"I've probably got a lot of stuff in my head that I still haven't resolved about Dad and Caroline," I said. "You're not wrong about me wanting to believe they're still with me somehow too, but I feel like it's more emotional than supernatural or whatever. It's just... I don't know. I find the whole ghost thing fascinating and I want to see for myself if it's true or not."

Yuri was quiet for a few seconds, but finally he said, "We can go over there and visit, so you can see."

"Wouldn't that be weird, though?"

"Why would it? They did invite us after all, and they sounded sincere about it," he said. "I'd like to see the house too, although for different reasons than you."

"Really?" I said. "Why do you want to see it?"

"Didn't they say they're thinking of selling it?"

"Yeah, but..." I trailed off for a moment, unsure as to where the conversation might be going. "Why do you care if it's going to be for sale?"

"I was thinking," he said, but he didn't elaborate.

"About a house in Willow Creek?"

"It's just a crazy idea I suddenly had."

"What would we do with a house here, even if we could afford it? Our lives are in Mt. Komorebi."

"Are they?" he said. "I think I've seen enough since we've been here to know that most of your life isn't in Mt. Komorebi at all. I might be wrong, but my guess is, the only really important parts of your life in Mt. Komorebi are me and the mountain. Yukimatsu has to stay where it is, obviously, but I don't."

I frowned. "Are you saying you want to move?"

"No, not exactly," he said. "I'm not sure what I'm saying at this point, but I think we should think about our options, and talk it over when we're both ready."

"You think a possibly haunted house is an option?"

"It's not haunted," he said. "Although, if people believe it is, maybe that'll lower the property value and make it affordable."

"That's an angle probably no one thought of."

He looked amused. "Let's have a look at it and satisfy our curiosity, okay? It’s not even for sale yet anyway, and we're not in a position to decide anything right now, if it was."

"Okay," I said.

"In the meantime, the least we can do is be friendly. I don't think I made a very good first impression today. I'd like to redeem myself, if I can."

"I'm sure you can," I told him. "Let's see how you're feeling tomorrow, and maybe we can go over there."

So, that's exactly what we did. Yuri was feeling well enough to venture out on Wednesday afternoon, so we took some of the strawberry cupcakes I'd baked in the morning, and made our way across the street. Kim and Robert happily gave us a tour of the house, and then we all sat in the living room and enjoyed a snack and some good conversation.

There was no sign of Sachiko the ghost, but we did notice the smell of flowers in a couple of rooms where there weren't any plants at all. Robert said the scent was plum blossoms, and he told us that meant Sachiko was there, even if we couldn't see her. He showed us her vase, and explained how they'd bought it from an antiques dealer in Senbamachi district about four years ago. He said Sachiko had appeared not long after they got back to Willow Creek.

Yuri said he thought he knew the antique shop in question. Apparently, it's notorious for having purported occult objects for sale on a semi-regular basis, and is the subject of a sort of urban legend that says it's a hot spot for paranormal activity. Even I was reluctant to believe that last bit was true, but I'll admit the notion intrigued me.

"Maybe we should go there when we get home," I said.

"See if you can get Takahiro to go there with you," Yuri said. "His reaction will be worth it."

"Oh?"

"He never wanted to walk past there when we were younger. Seiji and I kept daring him to go in, but he never would."

"Have you been inside the shop?" Robert wanted to know.

"I have," Yuri said. 'It didn't seem all that unusual to me, other than some of the weird stuff the owner was selling. I saw a necklace that I thought my mother would like, but my friend Seiji talked me out of buying it for her because he thought it was cursed."

"We're definitely going there when we get back," I said. "Haunted vases and cursed jewelry? I need to check that out."

Yuri sighed. He didn't come right out and say I was trying his patience, but I got the sense that he wanted to. I gave up the subject of the supernatural after that, and our conversation moved along to other topics. We enjoyed the rest of our visit, and left with an open invitation to swim in the pool whenever we liked.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed about not being able to confirm the existence of the ghost, but I guess I shouldn't have expected to. We came back in the evening to use the pool, and we smelled the plum blossom scent again. Yuri said it was likely some late-blooming plant in the garden or maybe some sort of air freshener or cleaning product.

If it was a cleaning product, I wanted to know what it was so we could use it at home, because it smelled exactly like early spring in the Mt. Komorebi valley. It was sweet and soothing, and it made me feel calm and peaceful.

We didn't do much swimming. The pool water was indeed heated, and that, combined with the mysterious plum blossom aromatherapy, relaxed us to the point where we weren't much interested in exercise. Yuri took a nap on the pool float, and I just drifted around on my back, thinking about not much of anything.

We both had an excellent night's rest after that.

In other, completely unrelated news, we're heading to Granite Falls tomorrow afternoon. We'll be staying there tomorrow night and Saturday night, and then coming back to Willow Creek sometime on Sunday.

I was worried that Yuri wouldn't be up to it, but he says he's well enough to go. I can tell he isn't completely fine, but he's improved a lot since this past Sunday, so as long as he thinks he's going to be okay, I'm not about to question it. The fact that he's still interested at all is a surprise, I'm not questioning that, either.

I took him shopping for camping stuff today. He wasn't into the Canadian Tire aesthetic at first, but once he tried on a few plaid shirts and realized how cute he looked in them, I think his shopping spirit was revived.

He got a fleece-lined flannel jacket, a plaid flannel shirt, a quilted vest, and hiking boots, and of course he had to have accessories. In this case, his accessories of choice were two hats and a scarf. I convinced him to get thermal socks as well, despite his protests that they were ugly. Nobody was going to see them inside his boots, I reasoned, and he probably wouldn't want to sleep barefoot, especially considering that his feet are often cold at the best of times. He decided that the jeans and turtlenecks he already had with him would be sufficient, so I was spared having to answer the inevitable question as to whether or not he looked too skinny in any potential new pants.

Shopping for a sleeping bag was a bit more challenging. I wanted to make sure he got one that was both lightweight and rated for below-freezing temperatures, just in case we decided to camp on Yukimatsu at some future point. I also thought he should have one with a built-in pillow, like mine, since that'd eliminate the need to carry along an extra item. Yuri, however, was more concerned about the colour, and whether or not it'd look good in our tent. He opted for black because, apparently, it goes with everything.

We chose a proper hiking pack for him, in a shade of orange that made him happy because it reminded him of sunset, and that made me happy because of how visible it would be on a wooded trail. I liked it for the fact that it had an optional chest strap in addition to the shoulder straps, which would help balance the weight of it and make it easier and more comfortable for him to carry. He liked it because it had a ton of pockets to help him organize all his items.

Yeah, if it wasn't already obvious, we have different priorities.

I let him pick out a few odds and ends, like a flashlight, a small pocket knife, and an insulated drinking bottle for tea. Honestly, I had a hard time imagining Yuri doing anything with a pocket knife, but he seemed to think it was a vital piece of outdoorsy equipment to have, so I didn't protest.

The last things we bought were small waterproof bags for each of us to keep our phones, wallets and other important stuff in. I'd learned the value of waterproof bags from my friend Mitchell, who I'd met on Sulani. We might not need the bags during our weekend in Granite Falls, but I anticipated they might come in handy in Selvadorada.

Yuri could hardly wait to show off all his new things to my mom when she got home from work. He put on a mini fashion show for her, and she played into it by telling him how rugged and handsome he looked, and taking a bunch of pictures of him. He didn't seem to notice or care that she was treating him as if he was a little kid getting ready for his first outdoor adventure.

Sometimes Yuri is so adorable, I can't even handle it.

I'm glad he seems to have some genuine enthusiasm for camping now, because I spent a disproportionate amount of brain power in worrying that he was forcing himself to go despite how scared he was, just because he thought he should. I'm not under any illusions that he's suddenly lost all his anxiety and fear about spending a couple of days and nights in the forest, and I'm not deluding myself that it'll be an easy weekend for either of us, but I'm more confident than I was before.

I think we'll be able to have fun, and I'm looking forward to teaching him some of the wilderness skills I learned from Mom and Uncle Stephen, and from our Llama Scout leader when I was a kid. Leo said he's bringing his guitar, so maybe we'll even get to teach Yuri some of the camp songs we learned when we were in Llama Scouts. Almost every scout camp song is ridiculous, which automatically makes them the best.

Oh, and we even have a new ghost story to share around the campfire now. I'm already picturing Ellie's and Leo's reactions when we tell them about Sachiko.

We'll let you know how the camping trip goes. See you soon!

[angstyaches]

The Strong One

I accidentally posted a reply to this ask too soon (instead of saving it as a draft as I’d planned) but here is what Mushroom Anon said:

ngl your self indulgent fics are some of your best ones. okay so my request was : a generally stoic and strong character getting sick from emotions? like from a panic attack or anxiety? their s/o is worried because ???? what happened?? turns out they’ve been having a Really Stressful Week TM and proceed to get pampered and loved. For felix and elliot. omg also how about : a little outsider shot of the two of them here pov ryan and nancy. thanks! 🍄

Post Thicker Than Blood Arc (i.e. after Felix comes back from visiting his mother’s nursing home etc.) And dude, I LOVED the Ryan/Nancy POV idea, holy shit. Thank you so much for that addition!!

CW: secrecy, bickering, panic attack, emeto, mention of (past) deaths.

___

“Good morning, darling,” Felix chirped as he entered the kitchen. Elliott was sitting at the marble countertop, one hand propping up his chin while the other tapped away at his laptop keyboard. Felix wasn’t sure what Elliott was working on these days – and he tended to get huffy and defensive when asked – so Felix made a grand gesture of cupping a hand around his eye while walking past. Look, darling, I’m not looking!

“Morning?” Elliott glanced down at his watch, tilting the laptop screen so that it was almost halfway shut, despite Felix making it obvious that he wasn’t looking. “It’s basically the afternoon.”

“Hmm?” Felix took hold of Elliott’s wrist, tilting his head to read the time. “No, it’s still the morning for seven more minutes and twelve more seconds.”

Elliott grunted. “Oh. Well. You got me.”

Felix chewed his lip, his feathers a bit ruffled by Elliott’s tone. He glanced through the kitchen towards the sitting room. “Where is everyone?”

“I think Nan dragged Ryan to the farmer’s market.”

“No!” Felix gasped. “I wanted to go, too.”

“Should’ve woken up earlier then, huh? Maybe joined me on a morning run?”

A grin spread across Felix’s face, his natural response to Elliott’s attempts to mould him into a morning person. It hadn’t happened in the last seven years, so it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

He leaned his head against Elliott’s shoulder, even though his hair was still dripping wet from his shower. “I love it when you nag me. You in the mood for a drop of coffee?”

“No, Fee, I’m fine.” Elliott tugged the laptop screen even lower, as though he thought Felix was trying to peek.

Felix looked up, a bit startled by the solemn tone of Elliott’s voice, and confused by just how protective he was being on his screen. His partner looked down at him, still the taller of the two while sitting on the island stools. His eyes portrayed an uneasy darkness that made Felix frown.

“Is…” Felix’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything alright, darling?”

Elliott blinked. “Yes. Why?”

“I – you just seem…”

One of Elliott’s eyebrows arched.

“… Tense,” Felix grimaced.

“Tense?” Elliott repeated dully. “Well, excuse me. Not all of us had fifteen hours of sleep.”

“Huh. Okay.” Felix pursed his lips and padded unhappily across the white tiles, towards the coffee maker. He felt silly. He could usually handle Elliott’s teasing and such, but something about the way he was acting felt strange. It was like something had shifted between them.

Felix felt his heart sink as he scooped coffee grounds into the machine, his motions slowing.

It had been three weeks since Felix had returned to the Aldridge’s townhouse, after spending a few weeks up north and visiting his mother in her nursing home. Beyond his first few days back, Elliott hadn’t questioned him too much about what had happened up there, so Felix had assumed – hoped – that he’d decided to put it all behind them. But there was a chance he had changed his mind since then, right?  

Felix blinked, realising he’d spilled grounds on the glistening white countertop. He barely cared. He turned around. “Elli?”

“What?” Elliott had lifted the laptop screen again, still sitting stiffly as he navigated some screen that Felix wasn’t allowed to see.

“Are – are you still angry with me?” There was a tiny hitch in Felix’s voice, which he couldn’t help. He didn’t want to take Elliott’s mood and make it all about himself, but the thought of Elliott quietly holding onto resentment made Felix’s stomach hurt.

Elliott let out a rasping sigh and slapped the lid of his computer shut. Felix jumped on the spot, watching with wide eyes as Elliott dropped his head into his hands where he sat. Felix was overcome with worry, sure, but for a tenth of a second, all he wanted to do was check that Elliott hadn’t broken his laptop and lost whatever secret project he was working on.

“Darling?” Felix laid down the coffee scoop and wrung his hands. “If – if this is about anything that we talked about, I would want you to tell me.”

“No.” The word was murmured so softly that Felix barely heard it. Elliott let out a shaky, audible breath, his face still hidden in his hands. “No, boo, you – you and I are fine.”

“You – I’m sorry, you keep using that word. Fine…”

“You and I,” Elliott huffed, “are perfect, Fee.”

That should have been reassuring, but Felix still had that sinking sensation in his chest. Elliott’s shoulders rocked forward slightly, like he was trying to curl into a ball where he was seated.

At least this time, Felix didn’t have to hesitate in coming to Elliott’s side. “Elli,” he sighed, sliding his arms around Elliott’s waist, resting his forehead on his back. “Talk to me.”

“I…” Elliott started off shakily, gulping so hard that Felix heard it from where he was positioned behind him. “I-I don’t…”

As he waited for Elliott to find the words, Felix gently moved a hand up and down over his ribs, hoping the contact was soothing and not stifling. Elliott’s chest was rising and falling way too quickly for Felix’s liking. He decided he should probably back off and give his partner space to breathe, but as soon as he started to move, Elliott grabbed one of his hands and tugged it towards his chest again.

“You have something, now, or someone who… who can tie you to your old life.” The words vibrated within his chest and his back as he choked them out.

Felix frowned and lifted his head, looking up at the back of Elliott’s. The taller boy’s dark hair was scooped into a messy bun. The ends were knotted and ratty. It hadn’t been cut in so long. “Darling, I don’t want to be tied to that life. I want to be tied to this life, with you.”

“I know, I know, but it got me thinking about the people I used to know, and how…” Elliott shuddered in Felix’s grip. “How they would all... I knew it was a long shot, but I tried finding some names online, but we – Jesus, most of us didn’t even have full names, we were just trying to survive –”

“Darling,” Felix whispered, at a complete loss for anything more substantial to say.

“I mean –” A dark tremble of laughter broke through Elliott’s voice. He swivelled the stool, stepping down and taking a few steps across the tiles. “It’s pointless to even look for them, right? What are the odds any of my old friends also happened to end up becoming immortal vampires, huh?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Rhetorical question, boo.”

“Sorry.” Felix followed a few steps behind Elliott as he went to the kitchen window. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at anything in particular, but simply exposing his retinas to the light from outside.

“Elli?” Felix said quietly.

Elliott glanced at him, just for a moment. His eyes were dark and wet, his lips trembling as he gradually lost the battle against full-on hyperventilation. He shook his head violently, gaze wandering aimlessly again. “I don’t – I don’t feel right. What’s wr… What’s wrong with me, Fee?”

“Darling, try to slow your breathing.”

Elliott slammed his palms down either side of the kitchen sink, his shoulders buckling forward under the pressure of the gasps and heaves racking his body. “Felix, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re panicking,” Felix said, shocking himself with how calm he sounded. He closed the last few paces between them, unable to resist being next to Elliott while he was in this state. “I’m right here, alright? I’m going to touch your back, Elli, but – but please, tell me if it’s not okay…”

“Don’t,” Elliott gasped, shaking his head violently. His mouth bobbed open as he lowered his shoulders even further, eyes widening. “G-going to –”

A moment before Elliott started dry heaving, Felix realised what was happening, and obediently took his hand back. As a rule, Elliott detested being touched when he was sick, and Felix had learned to stop fighting that a long, long time ago.

Felix flinched at how violently sick Elliott suddenly was. His head was practically in the sink at one point, his body buckling under the intense convulsions. It was impossible to distinguish between the laboured breathing and the dry heaving, but every sound and every lurch made Felix’s heart twist a little tighter in his chest.

“Darling, I’m sorry,” Felix choked out. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise you had all of this going on inside you.”

Elliott whimpered at that, attempting to lift his head a little higher. “Fee, I just –” He was immediately interrupted by a wet belch, and a clear stream of saliva that he needed to spit away from his lips into the sink. “You just got back, I w-want – wanted things to be normal… for you.”

“Elli,” Felix whined. He couldn’t believe what was happening here. Elliott was trying not to cry as he spoke, and Felix almost lost it too, though he did his best to keep a hold of things. He couldn’t be sure, of course, but he had a feeling he knew exactly what Elliott meant by ‘normal’. He meant the normalcy where Felix could be a mess and Elliott was forced to be the strong one.

He watched as Elliott brought his elbows down gently in front of the sink, letting his head drop against them as the nausea finally seemed to past. He trembled and sighed deeply, seemingly in resignation.

Felix cleared his throat softly. “May I touch you?”

A very quiet chuckle emerged from Elliott’s buried face. “You may.”

Felix rested a hand gently on Elliott’s back, introducing the slightest amount of motion so that his fingertips grazed over a small portion of his spine. He lowered his forehead to Elliott’s shoulder again, this time with very little weight behind it. He needed Elliott to know he wasn’t leaning on him, but that he was there for him.

And he was capable of being the strong one sometimes.

___

“You know, there was a time where you would have helped me bring the bags in from the car,” Nancy sulked. Her arms were outstretched and wrapped around half a dozen bags from different vendors which were pressed against her chest.

“It is not my fault that you insist on buying so much,” Ryan said calmly, following her wife to the doorstep with her hands in her pockets. “For example, you did not need to purchase onions from three different stalls.”

“I told you; they’re different varieties!”

Ryan sighed as she opened the front door and stood back to let her wife into the front hallway of the townhouse. “An onion is an onion, love.”

“Felix,” Nancy grumbled, turning as she walked and narrowing her eyes at Ryan. “Felix will back me up. Felix! Felix, sweetheart!” she called towards the stairs.

The response from within the house was a muted sshhh, which sounded much closer than the upstairs bedrooms. Nancy frowned, meeting Ryan’s gaze for a moment as she closed the front door. Ryan made a beeline towards the kitchen and Nancy followed, dragging her feet slightly on the tiles as she struggled with her bags. She paused by the kitchen island to deposit all of them, watching as Ryan rounded the far corner and stared at what was happening on the sofa.

“Oh, sweethearts, what’s happened?” Nancy gasped, rushing over to stand next to Ryan.

Felix was sitting – almost upright – at one end of the sofa, white Elliott curled up next to him, his head resting in the smaller boy’s lap.

“Is… Is he asleep?” Nancy whispered.

Felix nodded silently. His poor eyes were red and a little puffy as he glanced back and forth between his two foster mothers.

“Anything we can do?” Ryan asked in a low voice, slipping her hands into the pockets of her slacks again. Nancy couldn’t help but pout; oh, sure, you’ll ask them if there’s anything they need you to do, but you won’t help me carry a couple of bags into the house.

A weak smile tugged at Felix’s exhausted expression, and he shook his head. His fingers drifted over Elliott’s head, brushing back a thin strand of his dark hair. Nancy once again couldn’t help herself, this time pursing her lips and wondering how long it had been since Elliott had cut his hair.

“Everything’s okay,” Felix murmured softly. “I’ve got him.”

[sweet-lemon]

Little Vixen Pt.1

Part 2, Part 3

Summary: The reader moves from one small town in California to another small town in Washington. If moving during your senior year in high school wasn’t hard enough, being a shifter and moving away from your pack makes things even worse. But could finding a new pack make things better? What about meeting your imprint? 

Paul Lahote x Female Reader

A/N: I been thinking about this idea for a while now and finally got around to writing some of it down. Let me know what you think and if you’d like me to continue this. 

Reader POV

Moving to Forks Washington was the last thing you wanted. Especially leaving your pack behind. Your mom didn't know about the pack or you being a shifter. Meaning that she also didn't know the heart-breaking pain you were in. 

Your mom was a well-known surgeon among the medical community. About two weeks ago she received a job offer at a small town up in Washington after the local doctor moved away. Your mom was the only family you had, so anywhere she went you followed. In a whirlwind of phone calls and contracts the both of you were all packed up and driving from Downieville to your new life. 

At least you knew Forks was surrounded by woods and mountains that could keep your secret safe. Telling the pack was hard but they understood that you had to go. You caught sight of their fur flashing by the trees as you left the town limits. It was a comfort knowing you would graduate high school soon and would be able to visit them without the school responsibilities holding you back.

It was about a day’s drive, but your mom wanted to make it feel like a road trip. The plan was to leave a day before the moving truck and enjoy the day sightseeing northern California and parts of Oregon. You both decided spending the night in Oregon was a great idea. It was always exciting to stay in a hotel and walk around a new town, even if it was just for the night. It was also a good idea to stop and let your German Shepperd, Moose, time to do his business.

Your mom knew the move was hard on you. Having to leave your friends behind and start at a new school is hard for anyone. Little did she know you were leaving a half of your heart and soul back in California. She tried to make you feel better by stopping at roadside diners and souvenir shops. By the time the car pulled up to a two-story off-white house you were wearing a Prehistoric Gardens t-shirt and a jar of cherry jam from the Olympia farmer’s market.

Getting out of the car you looked around noticing that you were outside of the town of Forks. The woods were directly behind your house, which you made you murmur a quiet ‘thank you’ to whichever deity was listening. There were three other houses scattered throughout the road, but they were far enough apart that privacy wasn’t going to be an issue.

You glanced over at your mom to see her looking expectantly back at you. “Well what do you think?” She asked.

“It’s cute.” You replied. “Can we see the inside?” Even though you were sad about leaving, you were determined to have a positive attitude. Like any other person you were excited to see your new room. It looked like Moose was also excited by the way was wagging his tail so hard his whole body moved.

You weren’t lying when you said the house was cute. Entering the house made the statement even more true. It was small, but the perfect size for a family of two. You could tell the house would be nice and cozy during the winter. Taking a quick look through the first floor of the house you were ready to race up the stairs.

At the end of the stair was a bathroom and to the sides were two doors leading to different bedrooms. Your mom pointed to the one on the right and you headed towards it. It was a decent sized room compared to the small feeling of the rest of the house. In the far corner of the room there were two windows on each side. Both with looking out toward the edge of the woods. You smiled to yourself knowing your mom knew you would like this room.

Moose walked into the room followed by your mom. You both watched as he smelled every corner of the room.

“So what would you like for dinner later?” Your mom asked. “The movers called saying they were an hour away. We can eat once they bring all the furniture and boxes inside.”

“I could go for some pizza.” You said. “I saw a little pizzeria when we drove through town.”

You always preferred local restaurants. Fast food chains were common and cheap, but local restaurants always put more effort into their food and you appreciated the taste.

“Do you think I could check out the woods before dinner?” You asked looking out the window.

“Sure, as long as you get back before dark. We don’t know how safe these woods are yet.”

You knew your mom was just looking out for you. If only she knew you could protect yourself from any danger you could run into in these woods. “I promise.” You said.

Kissing her on the cheek, you headed downstairs and to the car. You grabbed a drawstring bag from the backseat and then turned towards the woods. Moose was trotting along next to you taking in his new surroundings.

~~~

Wolf Pack POV

Seth was ready to go out on patrol. Even though they never found anything, and it was mindless work just walking around woods keeping an eye on things, Seth liked spending time with the pack. 

"Come on, we're gonna be late for our shift!" Seth yelled in Jared's direction. 

Jared was the second in command of the pack which meant he was stuck babysitting. He was supposed to be teaching Seth how to keep his wolf form under control, but the more time he spent with the kid the more it just felt like babysitting. 

"I'm coming. Jeez, your worse than Sam when it comes to patrols." Jared said finishing off his muffin. 

They walked a couple feet into the tree line of the forest before phasing. After half an hour of patrol they headed towards the part of the woods leading to Forks. 

'I heard we're getting new neighbors.' Seth said in his mind. 

'Isn't it the surgeon taking over for Cullen?' Jared asked. 

'Yeah, I think it's just her and her daughter. We should walk by and see if we can get a quick peek. Besides, we should know who’s moving into our side of the treaty line.’ Seth didn’t wait for a reply and started heading in the direction of the house.

‘The Cullen’s are gone, so I don’t know what you think we’ll be protecting them from.’ Jared added following Seth anyway. He was just as curious as the kid to see the new doctor and her daughter. It isn’t everyday someone decides to move here, they usually try to get away from the small-town life.

They were in the part of the forest that led to the nearby houses, walking slowly in case someone caught sight of them. Before they were within a hundred yards of the house, they heard noises coming up ahead. Stalking closely they noticed it was a girl walking with her dog.

‘Is that her?’ Seth asked.

‘I think so, I’ve never seen her before.’

They watched as she walked further into the woods. She kept looking back in the direction of her new house. Once she got to a fallen tree she took the little bag and placed it on the trunk. Once she started taking off her shirt Jared instantly growled at Seth to turn around.

‘What is she doing?’ Seth was visibly flustered.

‘I don’t know. Maybe we should get back to Emily’s.’ They were about to leave when they heard the dog bark behind them.

They quickly turned around to see if anything was wrong. The girl from earlier was nowhere to be seen. They got closer to get a better look. The german shepherd was now wearing the little bag around his back. Next to the german shepherd was a fox, but this fox was different than the ones they’ve seen before. It was bigger and almost resembled a wolf.

‘Do you think…?’ Seth for once was at a loss for words.

‘Keep an eye on her, I’ll get Sam.’ Jared said before he dashed off.

[generalfoolish]

Feel The Heat

Part One: Cruel World

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OC Juniper Collins

Rating: 18+ Warnings: fem masturbation, male masturbation, cursing, mentions of casual sex

Word Count: 4k

Summary: June visits the farmer's market and meets Frankie, a grumpy farmer. She's interested, but they're both MASSIVE idiots.

A/N: Hey babes! I've been working on this massive Farmer!Frankie AU with an OC. I'm excited to debut this first part, the story is going to be a little slower so I can put in SO much pining. Anyway, enjoy 💕

Masterlist | Part two

~~

June breathed in the fresh air as she pulled her tote strap onto her shoulder. The canvas bag held her wallet and keys, but was otherwise empty. She smiled, knowing that soon enough it would be almost too heavy.

The farmer's market was always busy on Saturday morning, and this one was no exception, she realized as she neared the stalls. She had a certain path she liked to follow, but she was feeling overwhelmed about the crowd. It was much busier than she had anticipated, and she always got a little panicky in throngs of too many people. So, she veered off her normal route, and found herself on the far end of the market.

It was much quieter, and much less crowded, she noticed right away. June also noticed that the produce was amazing. Late summer the fruit started to get a little smaller, but the berries at these stalls were still plump. The vegetables weren't as uniform as some of the bigger stalls, these were misshapen and discolored. Two indicators that the flavor would be divine, she thought as she roamed the stalls.

Her bag was getting heavy quickly, she noted, and she was determined to explore the whole area, so she walked straight to the end. The last stall on the property. Her hopes were not high as she marched up to the display stand.

"Would you like to try the tomatoes?" A rich baritone asked, and she quickly met his eyes. They were silky and brown, and breathtakingly deep. He had his cap pulled low, but his face was scruffy.

"Sure, that would be great. Are you the farmer?" June asked, taking the sample, and eyeing the selection.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Frankie, and that is a Brandywine. All of my produce is hand picked, and that process starts at seed selection." He told her, his voice softening. She smiled and popped the tomato into her mouth. It was delicious. Acidic and sweet, not overpowering to the palate. Frankie must have seen the delight on her face because he grinned, knowing what she was experiencing.

"Wow, Farmer Frankie, this is so good." She laughed a little as she chewed, wanting to savor it. "I'll take a basket please." She decided, and nodded down at his table. He nodded and started to bag it. "I have a bag, thanks! What do I owe you?" She asked, pulling out some cash. He merely waved his hand.

"Don't worry about it." He told her. June only frowned.

"I can't do that. You worked so hard, I want to buy something." He chuckled and took his cap off before running his hand over his head.

"Look, it's early, and I couldn't possibly charge someone as beautiful as you." She blushed deeply, but thrust a twenty at him anyway.

"My beauty isn't for sale, but your tomatoes are. Have a good day, Frankie." She told him and turned around quickly. She wasn't normally bold, and she had no qualms with getting stuff for free. She had no idea why she had fought him, but as she walked away all she could think about were his beautiful, brown eyes.

—

Frankie kicked himself hard as he watched the woman walk away from him. What was he thinking? He didn't even catch her name; he had no business calling her beautiful. He was off his game, and badly.

His phone buzzed, so he fished it out of his shirt pocket. An old t-shirt with a pocket on the chest, tattered and dirty, and that's what she saw when she walked up to him. What was she doing in the back of the market anyway, no one ever came this far back. He opened the message and sighed at how long the group chat was. Santiago and Benny could talk for hours, even texting. He wasn't up for it this morning, which wasn't unusual. He skimmed the messages, and decided it wasn't worth responding to. He had to sell some produce.

He looked down at the crisp twenty dollar bill on the table and cringed again. Twenty was way too much for the tomato basket. They were marked purposefully cheap, since they cost nothing to grow and always brought people back, and she had overpaid. Grossly. Even a ten would have been too much. And what had he done? Nothing. He hadn't even gotten her name. All he knew was that she looked great in shorts, her hair was a deep red, and she loved his tomatoes.

—

"What do you mean?" Stella asked, sipping her glass of wine.

"I mean how do I fix it? Like I want to try his other stuff, but I was so rude." June told her, sighing into her own glass. Zinfandels usually brought her mood up, but she was still feeling from earlier.

"You just go back, darling. I doubt he'll remember you. I mean you only talked for five seconds. Also, I think paying for your stuff is the opposite of rude." Stella took a bite of her pasta before pointing her fork back at June. "Unless, it's more than that. It's definitely more than that. Are you trying to date the farmer?" June felt her face flush, and quickly took a bite of her own pasta to buy some time to think. She had gotten worked up, but she hadn’t thought about why that was. She grumbled as she bit into the ravioli. It was dumb, but Stella was right. She wanted to get to know Frankie more. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but she wanted to see him again.

Stella took Juniper’s silence as a win, and a grin spread across her face. June had always thought that Stella’s signatured wicked grin could rival the Cheshire Cat, and this one was no different. Too bad, June thought, that she hadn’t tumbled down a trippy tunnel where answers were held in clearly labeled vials. She took a wistful sip of her wine and looked back up to Stella.

“You’re right. But have I messed it up too bad? Like, I was pretty rude.” Stella laughed.

“You could have stepped on him and he’d thank you for it. June, you’re hot. He’d be lucky if you even thought about him. You couldn’t have messed it up.” June laughed, not really any more confident, but loving Stella’s hype game anyway.

“How’s...Bernard?” June asked, struggling to remember the man’s name. Stella had a habit of switching out lovers pretty often. June thought of it as her “man of the week,” and while it was good fun for her to envision a horrible reality show it wasn’t conducive to remembering their names, or anything about them.

“Ben,” Stella sighed, correcting June and pausing dramatically, “Is gone. I’m seeing Javi now. He’s much younger, and a lot richer.” Stella teased, taking another mouthful of food. June rolled her eyes. Stella had launched a business when she was in college, and had made a small fortune by the time they graduated. She was independently wealthy. In a way that June was not. June had opted for an education degree, and now was in charge of a bunch of literal children.

She took a sip of her wine and considered that path for a moment. She actually loved her job. She didn’t make shit, but it was worth the long hours to see those kids be nurtured and educated. She cared for them, and that made it worth the lack of zeros in her bank account.

“Javi, huh? He sounds posh.” June said, not really thinking about Javi or Stella’s various other affairs.

“He is not. He’s new money, so we can be tacky together. Anyway, lunch is on him!” Stella told her, laughing. June cringed at that, thinking back to Frankie. She groaned. She should have just taken the damn tomatoes. She didn’t even want them now, the thought of eating them just made her shrivel in on herself.

While Stella took care of the bill, June wondered if she shouldn’t just go back to the stall. Introduce herself and apologize, she thought. It’s the only thing to do in this situation. She set to getting her nerve up to do it, but at the end of lunch she just hugged Stella and went home.

--

Frankie slid into the booth next to Benny and across from Santiago and Will. When he had gotten around to answering the text chain the guys had decided to go out for a drink, and Frankie had wanted a drink after his day.

“Fish, Liv wants to stay the night.” Will announced, watching Frankie take a thoughtful sip.

“If Becka doesn’t mind, neither do I.” He shrugged, and Will nodded. Becka had been Frankie’s saviour. She was Will’s wife, but her and her little girl had taken up with Liv so easily. Being a single dad was not easy, but Becka had never let him feel alone. Hell, she handled everything for him. She was too good to him.

“Course not. She loves Liv. Not as much as Ashley, but I think she loves having another kid to spoil. Bad news for me, probably.” Will laughed out, and the rest joined in. No one had expected Will to get married so quickly, and none of the guys had been prepared for his girl to already have a kid in tow. Will had taken to Ashley quickly though, and had settled into the family role easily. Frankie noted Will’s painted nails and smiled. He was lucky to have such a great group of brothers.

“Enough kid talk, I have a fight coming up. You coming?” Benny asked, nudging Frankie’s arm. Frankie took his cap off and ran his hand through his hair.

“Who’re you up against?” Will asked before Frankie could answer. Honestly, he was searching for an excuse. Not that he didn’t want to support Benny, but the fights were always too loud, too tempting.

“Jones. It’s a special rematch. That’s why I need my boys there! Pam!” Benny hollered after the waitress and held up four fingers. Shots, Frankie thought sarcastically, just what they needed.

“Ben, of course, we’ll all be there. I’m bringing a plus one, though.” Santi announced, demanding the attention of the table.

“Who’s the victim this time?” Frankie asked, sipping his beer. Santi shot him a dirty look and clapped his hands together.

“Her name is…” He paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “Sam.” Frankie rolled his eyes at the theatrics.

“What does Sam do?” Will asked, not minding the dramatics.

“Sam is a school teacher.” Frankie’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Surely, not.” Benny snorted. Pam sat the shots down, and everyone grabbed one.

“To Santi, maybe learning something!” Will toasted, and they threw back. Frankie relaxed as the tequila warmed his throat. This was normal, and meeting with the guys did his body some good. He wouldn’t even think about the woman from earlier. He grimaced as he thought about it. His problem, he was realizing, was that he was too sober. He caught Pam’s eye and nodded at her. They came to this bar enough that they knew the waitstaff by name, and the waitstaff knew their orders. Frankie preferred it that way, less chance of an awkward encounter.

“Sam is a local gal, but she has not yet heard of me.” Santi told the group, clutching his drink. He had a bit of a reputation of being a lady killer. It was rare he found someone who didn’t recognize his name.

“I guess teachers aren’t normally in the same crowd as strippers.” Benny joked, and grabbed his shot when Pam sat them down. “Damn Fish, long day?” They knocked them back, and Frankie just nodded.

“There was this lady at the stall today. Total knockout, and I just flubbed it hard. It was early, y’know?” They all laughed at him and he couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face.

“She’ll be back. I mean, look at yourself, Fish. You’ve got it back together.” Will offered. Frankie smiled at him and sipped his beer again. They shifted to riling Benny up about his on and off again girl, so Frankie just relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for him to space out, and the guys could fill any silence. He surveyed the bar, taking in the patrons and just assessing the crowd. Saturday nights could go two ways: chill or not chill. It was an old habit to scan for danger, but it suited Frankie. He could sip his beer and watch for thugs or idiots or drunks. The waitstaff never complained when they stepped in. He supposed they didn’t mind four ex-service guarding them a few times a month. Sometimes they drank for free, but Frankie had no issues with bloodying his knuckles up every now and again.

He was smirking, thinking about their last fight, when he saw her. He had to do a double-take to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him. He couldn’t believe it. There she was. She’d changed. Opting for small jeans shorts and a tight t-shirt over the yoga shorts she’d had on before. He gulped loudly, and shifted in the booth. Her hair was down, curled, and she looked amazing. He didn’t think she could look any better. He wanted to go to her. Instead he leaned on the table and cleared his throat.

“She’s here.” He told the guys dumbly, cutting off something that Benny was saying.

“Who is?” Santi asked, looking around, probably for Frankie’s ex. They all hated her, but she wouldn’t come here.

“The girl from earlier. The knockout.” Frankie told them, trying to keep his voice low. He nodded in her direction, surprised that she hadn’t noticed him. It wasn’t a large bar. Maybe she didn’t recognize him, he thought. He flushed even as he thought it. He hoped she would remember him. Santi whistled low as he faced Frankie.

“She’s good.” He murmured, and took a sip. Will and Benny agreed.

“Buy her a drink, Fish.” Benny suggested, clapping Frankie on the back. He grimaced as the loud noise rose above the din of the bar. As if on cue, she looked up and saw him. He was staring at her, and there she was, looking at him. He looked away, chickening out. He wouldn’t say anything. She had stormed off earlier, hadn’t she? She should apologize to him, he thought, getting his hackles up.

--

June couldn’t believe it. She had agreed to go out with the new girl from work, came to a bar she had never been to, and here he was. He looked great, she admitted to herself. He had thrown a plaid button up over his shirt, and it suited him. Farmer Frankie, she mused, and then turned to Samantha.

“Do you come here a lot?” Samantha looked up from her hard seltzer and shook her head.

“I came with this guy I’m kind of seeing. Everyone knew him here, and I liked the scene. It’s kind of dive-y.” June nodded, and took a drink of her rum and coke.

“Are you settling in, you know at school?” June asked, deciding to ignore the farmer. If he wanted to say something, she wouldn’t stop him, but she had no intentions of approaching him.

“Oh yeah, you know Keira? She’s been super helpful.” June nodded in agreement, Keira was the secretary but she ran the place.

“Like your kids? You’re what 5th?” Samantha nodded.

“I have no idea how you handle those 6 year olds, they’re too wild for me.” June laughed.

“I couldn’t handle the ball jokes, honestly. Tweens are the worst.” They both laughed, and sipped their drinks. June felt eyes on her, but tried to ignore them. She repeated to herself: if he wanted to talk, he’d come over. She made it her mantra. She focused on Samantha, willing the handsome man to go away.

“Tell me about this guy you’re seeing! I haven’t been on a date in so long.” June laughed, not wanting to admit how long it had really been.

“He’s so sexy, June. Like, literally so hot. It’s mostly sex though. We’ve been out dancing once, drinking a couple times, but it’s mostly just hook ups. I’m thinking about breaking it off, honestly. Like, the sex is good, great even, but how long is that sustainable, y’know? Like, I want to nurture a relationship at some point.” June nodded, trying to push her jealousy aside enough to be empathetic. She would take some great sex, even if it meant not having a relationship.

She peeked back at the Farmer, who flitted his eyes away as soon as she did, and knew that wasn’t true. She was long overdue for a meaningless hookup, but she wanted something real, whatever the hell that meant.

“Have you tried just telling him? I mean, maybe he doesn’t know you want something more. Men are kind of oblivious to that sort of stuff.” June added. Samantha took a sip, thoughtfully.

“That’s a good idea, Junie. Are you seeing anyone?” June laughed, a little too loudly.

“Just my therapist.” Samantha swatted her shoulder playfully. “No, I, uhm, I got out of a bad relationship last year and I’ve been so nervous to get back in the game.”

“Oh my gosh, my guy has tons of friends! Maybe I can set you up?” June thought for a minute.

“Maybe, I guess I could be open to it.”

“They’re all like ex-Army or something. I’ll text him.” June watched Samantha tug her phone out, and tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. He will come to you, she reminded herself. “Ooh, two single friends! Fish or Benny? Oh nevermind, just Fish. Apparently, Benny has drama. Bullet dodged there, huh?” June snorted, bullet dodged indeed. Fish? What a weird nickname.

“What the hell, set it up.” June told her, throwing back the rest of her drink and indicating another to the bartender.

“Yay! I’m so happy you came! Tuesday night?” June nodded.

“Have him come to the Italian place on 5th street at 7pm. I have parent-teacher conferences, but that should be late enough.” June explained, sipping deeply. Her hands were shaking, she hadn’t been on a proper date in years. Her ex hadn’t been one for dates, so she was out of practice. She raised her eyes to meet Frankie’s, knowing he’d look away immediately. He didn’t, but the look on his face was confusing. Almost angry, so she looked behind her and saw a guy approaching.

“Hey, I’m Kyle.” He introduced himself and sat down on the stool next to her. She looked at him bewildered.

“June.” She said shortly, taking another sip.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Kyle asked.

“Have one.”

“The next one?”

“I think I’m good. There are a lot of empty stools, why don’t you find a new one.” She murmured lowly, and turned her back to him. Samantha giggled.

“I think I know why you don’t get dates!” June rolled her eyes.

“It’s pretty lame, okay. To come up and just sit down. I’m already a little drunk too, it’s just not very cool, Kyle.” June chided, raising her voice so he’d hear. She sighed when he left, and looked back at the booth where Frankie was. The booth was empty, now, she realized sadly. She wished he had approached her. She wouldn’t have turned him away. Why was he so cold?

--

By the time she made it back to her door, June was pissed. She stumbled in her hallway and pulled her shoes off. They hadn’t been at the bar that long, but the last round of shots had been the death blow for her. Samantha had bid her farewell, saying her ride was there. So, June had ordered an Uber, clutching her keys like a weapon, hoping Kyle didn’t want revenge or something. She pretended to be sober in the Uber, and had chatted easily with the driver on the drive to her house.

Once inside though, June groaned in frustration. She couldn’t believe the stupid luck. It was too much, seeing him there. It was too bizarre, too much of a coincidence. She had stormed upstairs and turned the shower on.

A habit she had started in college, when she was overwhelmed, a hot shower was just the thing she needed. She stripped down and stepped in before the water had warmed up completely, but she didn’t really notice. The shower was just a vessel; June just needed space to decompress. So, she thought about the tanned skinned farmer, and how cold he had seemed. He hadn’t seemed interested, but she had felt his eyes on her all night. She had seen his anger at another guy approaching her. She had felt how angry he was from across the room.

She lathered her body up, and almost absent-mindedly rubbed small circles around her budding nipples. She worked down, and let the soap wash off. She didn’t normally masturbate, but his brooding face and broad shoulders wouldn’t leave her mind. So, she slipped a finger inside herself with one hand, and worked her clit with the other. It was lazy at first, but then she remembered their encounter from the morning and she started going harder, getting worked up. She came hard, whimpering to herself in the steamy shelter of her bathroom. The hot water pelted her skin, and she rested her forehead against the cool, tiled wall.

Whoever this Fish was, she was going to fuck him. She had to get this farmer out of her mind.

--

Frankie was seeing red as he stormed up to his door. Of course, he had no reason to be pissed. He knew he had no reason to be pissed, but here he was, stomping to his kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He had wanted to break that guy’s legs for even coming near her. He scoffed at himself, her. He didn’t even know her name and he was ready to pummel someone for looking. Someone was looking, someone would always be looking. She was so gorgeous. He folded over his counter and rested his forehead against his hands. Nothing could help it now. Santi’s girl had messaged him, and the night was over. What was he supposed to do? Watch his dream girl get hit on by some idiot? March up and apologize for being such a giant dickhead? He suspected he was onto something, but he was just buzzed enough to ignore it.

He went to the couch, and threw a few stuffed animals on the floor. He had already kicked off his shoes, but he let his jeans fall to the floor now. The perks of Liv having a sleepover, he chuckled to himself before laying out on the couch. He adjusted himself, his hard dick straining against his underwear.

He planned to ignore that too. But, then he was thinking about her. Her hair down her back, deep and dark. Her smooth skin, inviting and leading his eyes to her ass. He pulled himself free and started slowly rubbing. He thumbed over the tip, and groaned at the precum pooling there. He wanted her so bad. He started thinking about how soft she would be, what she would look like on her knees doing this to him, and he fucked up harder into his fist. He closed his eyes when he felt the snap, and grunted through the orgasm. He wiped his hand down his shirt, and groaned.

He had to get her out of his head.

Part Two: Something More

[yoongsgguktae]

honey, i’m home 03 | pjm

summary; your relationship with your neighbor has evolved into something stable in your life. this morning, you help ease his tension pairing; jimin x reader genre; neighbors!au | s2l | fluff | smut rating; M(18+) word count; 2.9k warnings; cussing, teasing, oral (m receiving), slight penetration with finger (f receiving), spit, saliva, lots of eye contact, some praise kink, exhibitionism (kinda?), ass slapping, boyfriend jimin, the type of man we all want, and cats

a/n i cannot thank @taestybae​ enough for reading this over, she’s amazing! check out her masterlist for her awesome work. and @dollwithluv​ for always letting me talk about my ideas. ily. MASTERLIST PART 01 | PART 02 | [PART 03]

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You placed your baskets of fresh fruits and veggies on the kitchen counter with a heavy thump. Today has been a long day of errands, the majority of your Saturday was spent running around the city in the hot and humid weather. Your shirt clings to your body which only amplifies your discomfort. You made the mistake of leaving your food shopping as the last thing on your to-do list. The farmer’s market is around the block from your apartment, it would be easier to grab your groceries on your way back home. That is until you realized the market was crowded and you weren’t able to get all that you wanted before all the stalls started packing up after a successful day. 

You hang your keys on the newly installed hook by the door before heading to your room to change into loose clothing, your body begging to breathe in the comfort of cotton fibers. Jimin insisted on installing key hooks for you; he claims it will help keep you organized, something you desperately need to get better at. He's called you out on many occasions for losing your stuff and he's not wrong. You're well aware of what a hot mess you are, or at least were before Jimin appeared in your life that one night. He’s helped you create better habits and has become a stable influence in your life in the short amount of months you’ve known each other. 

The sound of a cat's meow catches your attention as you pass through your living room, making you halt in place. Kitty Cat rounds the corner from behind your sofa, she pointedly looks up at you, greeting you with her soft meows. "Well hello there darling," you say as you bend to pick her up. She meows again in response, cuddling into your embrace. You glance over to your window, only to realize you once again forgot to close it before leaving the apartment. This must have been the third time this week she has come for a visit, seeking your affection. It has become habitual at this point that you’ve placed food and water dishes in your kitchen and a litter box in your bathroom just for her. You brag that you have become her favorite human, that she likes you more than Jimin.

You grab a container full of apples from the baskets you left in your kitchen. Your hands are suddenly full as you step up the small stool Jimin has placed underneath your window, which has made it easier to pass through the threshold and onto the fire escape. Juggling the cat and fruits, you make your way to Jimin's open window.

"I brought you some gifts," you shout, stepping down onto his matching stool, into his living room. You place Kitty Cat on the oversized cat tower with the other two felines who are lounging in their respective cubies just as Jimin enters the space. "I got you a cat and some fruits."

"You left your window open didn't you?" Jimin asks with a knowing smile as he walks towards you. He slips one arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him, your bodies collide softly. He dips his head and captures your lips gently before letting go with a smile as sweet as honey. You'll never get tired of feeling his mouth on yours.

"I was able to grab the last basket of apples available that you asked for." You hand him the container in your grasp, letting his question go unanswered. You know he was going to continue teasing you if you didn’t drop it. He never fails to remind you what may happen when you leave your window open, “some random guy can just show up unannounced in your apartment.” The smirk he gives you whenever he brings it up makes your stomach flutter at the memory. “I also ordered pizza for dinner, we can have it at my place this time.”

"Thank you." Jimin strides to his kitchen to place the basket down. You watch as he runs a hand down his face while he lets out a groan quietly to himself. His arms extend above his head as he bends forward to stretch his body. He was busy this morning, stuck in a meeting for several hours. His upper body is probably stiff from pacing back and forth like you know he does during those long calls. The look on his face tells you the meeting didn't go well. 

You make your way over to where he stood, reaching for his back. His tense muscles visibly loosen at your touch as you press soothing circles into his shoulders. His head moves to crack the tension in his neck, it’s an awful sound that you haven't gotten accustomed to, a habit of his that still freaks you out every time you hear the snap. You continue your soft massages, coaxing him to relax against you. "How did it go?" You tread carefully, not wanting to stir up any more stress in him.

Jimin turns around with a low moan escaping his lips, your hands fall to your side at his movement. He faces you and gingerly grasps your wrists to reposition them back onto his shoulders while he moves to drop his head on your own. “It went terrible,” His arms circle your waist again, he breathes in the smell of your hair before he exhales his continued response, "the client made us wake up early on a Saturday, sit through a three-hour-long meeting, only to say they want to push back the date of the release."

He brings a hand into your hair, wrapping one of the curls around his finger. "Such a waste of my Saturday morning. I could have had you laid in my bed, taking care of you as I should." You feel a soft kiss against your neck, and then another one. He trails small pecks down to your collarbone, his hand moving to grasp the back of your head as the other holds your waist to keep you close. 

Your hands find purchase in his locks, you revel in his selfless affection. "How about I take care of you?" you whisper. He always thinks about you first, your wants and needs, his always coming second. Your nails scrap against his scalp gently. You know how much he loves it, how much it calms him down. “Let me take your stress away.” Jimin groans in response to your ministrations and at your suggestive words. His warm breath fans your neck.

He lands another kiss on your collarbone. "You don't have to do that for me, baby." He brings his lips up higher, giving you an open mouth kiss just below your ear. “Just having you here with me is enough.”

"But I want to." 

His body untangles itself from yours as you move back from his embrace. Jimin lets out a whine at the separation. You slide your hands down his arms, gripping his biceps in appreciation. You have claimed them as yours since you started dating a few weeks ago. And he gladly welcomed your possessiveness; he relishes in your attention and praise, and he’d been unashamed in admitting just how devoted he was to you. You pull him by his hands with a smirk, you already know what he needs. "Come sit on the couch and relax," you hum.

His eyes grow dark with lust as he allows you to guide him into the living room. He takes a seat on his couch, slouching back into the cushion as you pull a leg over his lap to straddle him. His hands automatically find your thighs, running them up and down tenderly. Your own hands find themselves back in his hair as you hover over his lips, close enough to feel your breaths intertwine. 

"I missed you," you whisper. Jimin smiles before he captures your lips in a slow kiss. 

"I missed you more."

You connect your lips with more need this time. Your mouths immediately open to play with each other's tongue in urgency. His hands move up your body, stopping at your ass to palm you. You moan with appreciation directly into his mouth. You love it when he touches you there, it makes you feel sexy when he plays with your backside. His fingers slide under your cotton shorts, tracing the edges of your panties until he reaches your folds. A shiver runs up your spine at the touch. 

You pull back from his lips and drop your face against his neck with a low moan. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you."

You feel his body tremble as he lets out a small laugh. He moves your panties aside before he dips a finger around your entrance. He swirls it around, coating it with your growing wetness, and slides his finger up and down your lips tantalizingly slow. "I want you to feel good too." 

You shudder in response, more moans escaping your lips as he continues to rub circles around your clit. His finger returns to your entrance every so often to barely dip inside your heat and return to your folds, using your own juices as lubrication. Your thighs tighten around his waist in response to the pleasure building up inside you, your knees dipping further into the couch on either side of him. 

You trail kisses down his neck as he toys with you. He shifts in anticipation underneath you in response to your attacks along his neck, your teeth and mouth leaving marks against his clear skin. You reach down between your bodies, your fingers grazing his clothed bulge. You start undoing the ties of his sweats, not wanting to delay his pleasure.

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, your mind was set on his growing need. You pull his hand away from your heat as you get off his lap. Your lips meet again in a quick sloppy exchange before you hook your fingers into his waistband. You catch his piercing gaze as you kneel in front of him, his legs automatically spreading in response to your position with his mouth hanging open. You’ve never set your eyes on a more beautiful man than Jimin, especially when he spreads his legs for you with lust-filled bedroom eyes.

Jimin raises his body off the couch to ease the effort of tugging his pants. You pull them down along with his briefs, just over his ass, enough to release his member from the confines of his clothing. He sighs at the feeling of his sensitive skin suddenly being exposed to the warm air, as if all his tension has been released. Unable to wait any longer, you don't give yourself time to admire the beauty of his cock before you eagerly reach to wrap your hand around his shaft.

You rub your thumb along his slit, playing with the bit of pre-cum that has begun to leak. His gaze is set on your lips as you position your mouth above his tip. Your lips part slightly as you drop collected saliva onto his awaiting cock. 

"Ah fuck." 

Jimin hisses as you use your own spit to lubricate him, spreading it up and down his rigid member in slow drags with your hands. His eyes move from watching your strokes back up to your eyes. "You're so fucking good to me."

His hand finds its way in your hair, he wraps his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulls you towards him. Your lips crash against each other as you continue twisting your wrist to please him, the other hand lightly massaging his thigh. His soft moans flow into your mouth, hot breath can be felt against your tongue. You jerk at his tip, giving it special attention. His teeth pull your bottom lip as he lets out a groan in response. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.” You chuckle against his lips. Your own desires stirring with his words of encouragement, you’re determined to give him all the attention he deserves.

You capture his lips once more in a tender peck before you lower your mouth back above his cock. You kiss the pink head softly, his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on him. Your gentle kisses trail down his length, you look up to meet his gaze again. His eyes are blown out with anticipation. 

Your thumb moves around his tip with care as you start sucking the base of his cock with open mouth kisses. Jimin's hips buck in response, his moans are music to your ears. Your tongue leaves a glistening sheen in its wake as you drag your tongue up his length before swirling around the tip and taking him in your mouth.

"Holy shit." 

His eyes flutter shut and he lets his head fall back against the couch as you take all of him ever so slowly. Your hands grip either side of his thighs while you bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks as he continues to hit the back of your throat. His low pants encourage you to increase the intensity of your motions simply to elicit more of them. Your own thighs start rubbing together at the sound of his sinful moans.

Saliva drips down his cock with your relentless motion, coating his balls with your spit. Your hands remain on his thighs, you’ve been faintly leaving scratch marks against his skin. You grip at his tense muscles, you can sense he's holding back, trying to restrain himself from fucking into your mouth. You release him, a string of your spit still connecting you to him. His head lifts from the couch in disappointment at the sudden loss of contact, your mouth was so warm and tight. His eyes search yours in question as his rigid member slightly sways with no support from your hands or mouth. “Baby, why’d you stop?” he whines.

Your hand replaces your mouth once again with long, even strokes. You give him a smirk as you lower your lips to his balls while maintaining eye contact. You've learned how much he loves it when you give them attention. Your mouth starts to suck at one before taking it fully in with a slurp. Jimin threads his fingers in your hair once again, the slight tug feels delicious against your scalp. A low grunt pushes past his lips while you suckle his balls. He hisses out, "Yes, just like that.” 

His body starts shaking, the combined pleasure from your hand along his shaft and your mouth sucking around his base has him seeing stars. You feel his rise in pleasure as his breathing picks up and his moans are dragging out in low guttural sounds. You see the sweat forming along his forehead, his face scrunching up in pure bliss.

From the corner of your eyes, you see a figure appear beside Jimin on the couch. Your gaze sweeps over to find one of his cats looking up expectantly at their owner, wanting her own share of attention. With one of his balls still in your mouth, you look back at Jimin as he becomes aware of the intruder. He watches his cat take a seat on the adjacent cushion as it curiously watches. You can't tell if his cheeks are turning pink because of the pleasure you're giving him or if it's because he's getting shy. 

"Fuck, I can't."

He lets go of your head and grabs at your hands. You release his ball from your mouth, confused on why he stopped you. He reaches for your lips, cleaning up the spit running down your chin with his thumb. He holds your face in the palm of his hand. His breathing is still erratic. 

"I can't do this in front of her." 

It takes you a moment to realize how truly shy he was. "Are you seriously embarrassed to have sex in front of your cats?" You try your best to hold in your laugh. 

"Yes, ok. It feels extremely awkward when she's staring at me while you suck me off," he huffs. His cock continues to stand rigid while he explains. 

It's just you, him, his cock, and Kitty Cat stuck in a moment of silence before you burst in laughter. He furrows his eyebrows at you, not amused by your outburst. "Are you laughing at me? You think this is funny?" 

You fall back to the floor on your butt as Jimin scoots forward on the couch, giggles still tumbling out of you. He stands to pull his sweatpants back up before he bends to scoop you with little effort. His strong arm holds your thighs in a tight grip against him and his other hand suddenly makes contact with your rear. You feel a stinging smack against your ass cheek just as he settles you over his shoulder and you gasp.

"I'll teach you to not make fun of me." His hands slip under your shorts, rubbing his palm over your sensitive skin. 

"Oh no, I'm scared." Without a moment of hesitation, he gives you another smack, but this time you moan in response as he palms you again to soothe the sting. He turns, heading in the direction of his room, away from the eyes of his girls.

He drops you on the bed, your body bounces against his mattress, your laughter hasn't stopped. He closes his bedroom door and turns back towards you. Jimin grabs at your calves and pulls you to the edge of the bed. "You won't be laughing once I'm done with you."

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< PART 02

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MASTERLIST

[writingsbychlo]

below the surface | sam taylor

word count; 9022

summary; sam admires your fire, the two of you are good friends, and he just wants to help free you live to your fullest potential.

notes: there is some slightly odd themes here, but it was the norm for those times, so you’re just going to have to accept them, it really makes the story, so go with it.

warnings: smut, some misogynistic themes, verbal abuse.

Sam Taylor liked the 1920’s, far more than he ever liked the prospect of the 2020’s. He liked the simplicity of his life, he liked the friendly atmosphere, he liked watching history unfold, but most of all, he liked the woman he had first become acquainted with two years ago.

It had taken him a little while to settle down, to find a home and build a business for himself, and the ‘roaring twenties’ that he was oh-so-fond of were definitely picking up their speed. It all felt very Gatsby-esque to him, and a year after his arrival in the time, he’d returned to the speakeasy he’d once visited with Evelyn. It had taken time for that wound to heal, and he felt that being able to return to the place he once treasured with her might be the final step for him to be able to close that chapter of his life, and move onto another one.

The speakeasy itself wasn’t actually where he had met you. Actually, it had been a few roads over, when he’d been drawn to the sounds of shouting and laughter, and he’d found you shouting at a group of younger men, who couldn't have possibly been more than their late teens, who were leering at you and trying to grab onto you. He hadn't even had to do anything, he had arrived to help but you had taken care of it yourself, shaking your head and mumbling about stain removing when the blood of a now broken nose stained your white glove, the group looking shocked, and then appalled, before running off with their bleeding friend and spitting insults at you.

“Well, go on then!” You had spun to face him, eyebrows raised and one gloved hand, one bare hand, sitting on your waist as you waited for him to speak, and he merely raised an eyebrow at you. “Tell me how unladylike I am, how I shouldn’t be out alone, or how I’ll never find a husband with an attitude like mine? I’d bet you a half dollar that you couldn’t tell me anything that I haven’t heard before.”

“I was going to say I think that was rather impressive, actually.” You had stared at him, eyes narrowed for half a second, before you’d been opening the clutch purse in your hand, shoving both gloves inside of it and producing a small silver coin, held out to him in the palm of your hand. “Nobody has ever told you how impressive it is that you can stand up for yourself before?”

“I’m not sure if you noticed, sir, but women are supposed to be seen and not heard.” You spat out the words distastefully, and he let out a small laugh, ducking his head and taking you hand in his, curling your fingers back around the coin in refusal to take it, but he could already see another argument building back up within you at the rejection of the token.

“Well, if I hadn't have heard you, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you, and I’m rather glad I did.” He held out his hand, introducing himself formally and waiting as you studied him once again, before offering your name in return. “How about you use that bet to buy me a drink, hm? I know this great little spot below the surface.”

“You’d let a woman buy you a drink?”

“I’d let you buy me several, but I do believe in equality, so if you’d let me keep your company for longer, I will be insisting that we take turns on the purchases.” That had earned him a genuine smile, and he took your hand in his and placed it into the crook of his elbow, guiding you down the streets towards the only little store with the lights still turned on.

“I suppose you’ll know somewhere that sells a real drink, do you, Mr Taylor?”

He flashed you a cheeky grin in response, insisting that you call him Sam, even with all the formalities of the time, because clearly you didn’t play by your own eras rules, and he liked that a lot. Holding open the door to the shop, you stepped in ahead of him, the owner looking up at both of you cautiously, a brow raised as he paused in his movements for wiping down the counter.

“We’re closed, what are you looking for?”

He cleared his throat, sparing you a glance before he was stepping forwards. “Cabbage.” Some dead silence hung in the air, and a slight warmth rose to his cheeks form the very moment the ridiculous codeword had left his mouth.

“I’m sorry, you’re looking for what?”

“Y’know, cabbage?” He nodded his head towards the door he remembered from last time, and the shop assistant looked between him, back to you, before him once again, and you sighed, your hand landing once again on his upper arm as you came up to stand behind the counter by his side.

“Do you have any red linens?”

The man seemed to catch on, his lips flicking up at the sides, and Sam’s cheeks only grew darker in colour as the two of you were guided away toward the stairwell hidden in the back of the store, the speakeasy concealed below. Once the door was closed behind you, your forehead had pressed to his arm, a series of small giggles leaving you and he let out a playful huff as you did.

“That’s an old phrase, it’s changed every six months to keep it from spreading too quickly.” You confided, and he hummed, pushing the coding to the back of his mind to be remembered until it was changed once again.

“You’ve been here before, then?”

“I can be found at this bar every Thursday, my father likes to spread the word about having a daughter of age with a dowry to boot, ready to be married off.” Your words had turned bitter at the end, and Sam had sighed, shaking his head and offering you a frown, but he wanted to keep the mood lighter, as he was enjoying your company.

“So, if I happened to be here on a Thursday evening, I might find you here, too?”

“You just might, Sam. Now, how about that drink?”

Meeting you at the bar on Thursday nights had rather rapidly become a constant in Sam’s life, he counted down the days and hours until he could see you again, to listen to you excitedly talk about your week as you sipped on gin at the bar and let you ramble about the book you had been reading, or the story you’d heard from your friends, or simply the new and fleeting hobby you had picked up and dropped in the last few days.

You were wild, and interesting, and you made the transition from the 21st Century to the beginning of the 20th so easy for him that he barely noticed anything different when he was with you. You were like a little drop of home in his week, and he couldn't help the easy flow he’d taken from friendship to something a little flirtier with you, and he liked the way you joked back, cheeks rising with red and jaw dropping when he whispered in your ear and held you in a way that was just a little risky for the time period he had found himself in.

He liked it when you’d dance with him to the music playing, and he liked it when you’d hum along to the songs being sung. He absolutely loved it when you rested your head on his shoulder and let out little sighs of tiredness when they night moved on and you let him hold you a little tighter to keep you on your feet as you waited for your brother or father to be ready to escort you home when they were finished posturing and proving themselves to the other men in the club.

Spring had bled into Summer, into Winter, and your friendship had only become stronger. He had met your father, and your brother, and he was never approving of the scowls they wore when you let out loud and obvious huffs of indignation when you were called over to meet a possible new suitor, or when you were shown off by them as some kind of prize to be won, only to mouth off and prove that you were far more than a pretty face.

You were stubborn, and strong-willed, and you didn’t conform to the stereotypes that your time had laid out. He saw you during the feminist rallies in the town, holding handmade signs high and shouting for equal rights at the top of your lungs, with absolutely no idea that your movement would be something that children would be learning about in their history lessons a century from now, taught by a female teacher with independence and equality, and he watched on proudly each time.

He had met your mother on the days he had been fetching his groceries from the farmer’s markets, rolling your eyes at the older woman as she tried to tell you recipes to remember and tips to make you an agreeable wife that you had downright refused to commit to memory.

Two years passed, and he watched as the new decade was ushered in, everything from the 10’s being swept away as old news as the 20’s came barrelling in, and style from the notorious New York City had taken over. You had a wardrobe full of tasselled dresses that fell around your knees and rode up when you crossed your legs to reveal the softer skin of your thighs, and you had pearl necklaces that fell down into lower necklines, and lips painted red with curled hair, and fuck, Sam really did love the twenties.

He loved going home and finding the print of your red lipstick printed on his cheeks from where you had bid him goodnight each Thursday in the early hours, and he liked the tint your cheeks got as your slightly tipsy form wobbled when you tried to pretend you hadn't been drinking, acting the good girl in the streets to follow the laws of the oncoming prohibition.

Two years in had brought a lot of changes since the night Sam had met you. The prohibition had made the speakeasy an even more lucrative spot to be included within, poker tables and cigars with whiskey glasses clinking below the streets, passers-by completely unknowing as to the activities that were taking place below. It had brought a wealthier crowd, elites and upper-class, only those who could afford to pay for the right to know the password at the door, and your father had only put more pressure on you to find a husband.

You were two years older, moving towards your mid-twenties, and of a prime age to bear a child for whichever man your father chose to give you away to. He was happy with the crowd that the speakeasy brought around, gambling from men with a lot of coin to throw down onto the table and options that would undoubtedly bring a high price for your hand in marriage.

In turn, you were acting out more and more, causing every option your father had found for you to end up turning their nose up and sneering as they muttered about finding a girl who could make them a home and raise a child, never bothering to look at what was underneath, never bother to get to know the incredible person below the surface of a woman to be given away.

You were seen less and less, from every Thursday to one Thursday a month, your father choosing to leave you at home in favour of talking you up in order to confirm a deal before you had a chance to ruin it, and yet Sam attended faithfully every Thursday, just in the hopes of seeing you. Your flame was being dulled, the rallies were quieter without your voice shouting out with the rest, his shopping trips were duller when he couldn't catch sight of your playful faces and rolled eyes as he moved between the stalls near you, and his days were empty without ever getting to catch glances of you, or talk to you late at night after your family had gone to bed and you called him on the telephone attached to his kitchen walls.

Your smile wasn’t as bright, your shoulders were slumped and your fashion sense had reverted back to that of the dresses he knew of mother’s to wear, but he never missed the longing looks you gave to the girls who would flounce about in tassels and pearls and sequins, dancing and singing and having fun, and he hated that you no longer told him excitedly about your day, instead forced to stay by your father or brother’s side as the night progressed on. Each time you were questioned by another man, he got to see a brief glimpse of your slowly drowning personality, his lips flicking up at the sies when he heard your sarcastic and snippy retorts, soon quieted by your father’s growling voice over the top of your own.

That was how Sam had found himself peeking at you from his seat at the table, watching you subtly as you stood off to the edge of the bar with you brother, picking at the uncomfortable edges of your corset dress as you pulled it out each time you wanted to take a deep breath, your eyebrows pinched as a fake smile sat on your cheeks and your hands formed fists as your kept them held in front of you like a lady always should.

Your father was angry, he was talking about the latest tantrum you’d had, having caused such damage to your car by driving when you weren’t permitted to and had no idea how to, that he had to fork out to have it prepared, almost as much as the car had cost him in the first place when he’d won it on an auction, new parts having to be brought in to fix it, and he was fuming, even as he laid down yet another stack of notes onto the table for betting with.

He felt your arrival before he saw you, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as the dragging of your almost floor-length dress between the chairs sounded and your arm brushing his shoulder oh so lightly, the kind of friendly greeting you gave him now, as he was certain your family had forbidden you from being seen with him in fear it would drive away other men. He risked a glance up, your back to hi as you approached your father, but you offered him a fleeting smile when you turned, your eyes meeting his for barely a second before you were facing your father once again, gaze flicking over the lusting gazes of the other men around the table, before clearing your throat.

All you had asked for was another money to buy another drink, but your father having just lost yet another hand and more money, seemed to reach the end of his tether.

“You would ask me for even more money, as though you haven’t already drained me of enough simply by being born into the godforsaken world?” His glare was fixed on you, cold and icy, and your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing on him as you prepared to fight back, but he was already pushing on with such rage that your mouth had snapped shut and your eyes had widened as you swallowed thickly, and Sam felt his own free hand clench into a fist as the cards in his other bent a little from the force at which he was gripping them. “You disappoint me, time and time again by refusing to act like a woman, by failing to find yourself a suitable husband, and now you want to take even more from me?”

“I just wanted a dri-”

“You just want everything, you selfish brat! Be quiet, stand still, and look pretty and let’s just hope that you can do something right for once, and find yourself a husband soon, so that you are no longer my responsibility to care for!” His nostrils were flaring and cheeks heated, face so red he resembled a tomato, and his shouting only came to an end due to being shushed by the owner in fears that he was actually so loud that people above in the streets may hear the commotion.

The room had been deathly silent for almost a minute after, all eye son the little table Sam found himself sitting at, and your head was ducked down from embarrassment, your fingers anxiously tapping at your leg, before the gazes seemed to move on and the band continued with their singing once again, the room taking it’s chatter back up and returning to normal after witnessing such an outburst.

“Your daughter is out of control.”

It was the first word spoken, and Sam’s own angry glare shifted to that of the man two seats down form him, yours and your father’s following, and Sam swore when he turned to look at you, he could see the last bit of yourself breaking within you s you were worn down further and further by the oppressive nature of the men surrounding you.

Floodgates had been opened, and before he knew it, Sam was sitting at a table full of jokes about your chances of never settling down, men picking fun at you and continuing to leer at you, stuck somewhere misogynistic comments about your body being all you were good for, and he felt sick as he watched your father chuckle and comment how he wished one of them would take her off of his hands even if that was all they wanted, and anger swelled within him as each and every one continued to deny that they would ever risk marrying you, fear of your boldness making them reject you, and he couldn't take it anymore, your father’s ramblings about never finding someone to take your hand being the final straw.

You may not have been the picture-perfect wife for any of these men, but you were absolutely perfect in his own. You were loud, and opinionated, and not afraid to argue with your own knowledge and facts when the two of you had debates. You were educated, and well-read, and had a sense of humour to match his own. You liked to adventure, and take risks, and you weren’t afraid to get angry when you needed to be. Your soul wasn’t one that was supposed to be dampened, but should instead be allowed to flourish. You were his best friend, his only real friend, and you were everything that mattered to him in this world, everything he had here with him.

You reminded him of his family and friends that he had lost when choosing to stay, you reminded him of everything he had once dreamed of in a woman, and he refused to let you be lost to the mainstream of dull women who were more like possessions than people, because he would be damned if he let one more comment about how you would never have a truly happy marriage or fulfilled life fly by, just because they were unable to appreciate how truly brilliant you were.

It was derogatory and rude, and borderline verbal abuse as he watched you curl in on yourself more and more with each comment, and he just couldn't take it anymore. Not the unhappy look on your face or the frown on your lips, or the way your eyes were cast downwards because even though you acted strong, he was certain you were breaking a little more with each unkind comment thrown your way.

He slumped a little in his chair, letting out a deep sigh and swirling the glass in his hand a little. “I would marry your daughter in a heartbeat.”

The table fell into a dead silence around him, and he raised the glass up to his lips, holding his face neutral and steady as he looked at his cards, enjoying the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat as he finished off the glass and placed it on the table.

“Can you repeat yourself there, son?”

“I said-” He didn’t intend for his words to come out growled and as menacing as they did, but he couldn't help it, and some of the other men around the table even had the good graciousness to look a little startled at his response. “I would marry your daughter. I think any man would be lucky to call her his wife, so I repeat to you, that when you made a claim that no man would marry your daughter, you were wrong, because I would marry her without hesitation.”

He shuffled the cards in his hands, arranging them better to suit him as he looked at the game, and the man looked positively taken aback, somewhere between horrified and ecstatic, before clearing his throat in a scrabbling attempt to seem dignified. “She has no dowry, and she would not make an agreeable wife.”

His tone read clearly that he was desperate to hand her off to the first bachelor to offer even a shred of willing, and yet with all the other eyes of the gentleman at the table around him, he was trying to hold his respect, unknowing that Sam had absolutely none for him at all, but he liked the pressure your father was now feeling to try and gain the bargain, as though you were a possession to be exchanged.

He took a long moment, finally moving his gaze up to you, his lips flicking up at edges in a hint of a smile to ease your nerves. Your eyes were wide and lips pressed into a thin line, your expression seemingly unreadable, but those creases of worry between your eyebrows were gone and the pinched expression from trying your best to keep your thoughts to yourself had slipped away, despite offering him no reading of how you felt about it all. He could see the way your posture had slumped a little as you relaxed, your palms smoothed out against your sides instead of clenched in fists, and your shoulders were rising and falling in steady rhythms instead of jerky breaths.

“She doesn’t need a dowry, she has more than enough to offer on her own. I don’t need to be bought to want to know her.”

It was another few minutes of rigid and tense silence, whispered comments going around the table between the older men as though they were teenage girls on a schoolyard, before loud and jovial laughter was released from your keeper, his palms slamming down on the surface so forcefully that the table wobbled and poker chips clinked and tumbled from their stacks, but he continued to sit unfazed, staring forwards, as you now looked between himself and your father in shock.

“All me to buy you a drink, and to thank you, despite not knowing why you would take on such an unruly woman.” Your father fished into the leather of his wallet to hand over a few coins to you. “I’ll buy you one final drink, and you can fetch one of the man who is taking responsibility for you.”

You stood stock still for a moment, before setting yourself into jerky movements, stepping away from your father and offering him a quiet ‘thank you’ before making your way to Sam’s side, normally warm and kind eyes peering down at him cautiously and calculating, and he rolled his head back to look at you, trying to give you the most reassuring look you possibly could as he spoke his preference to you, nodding as you stepped away from him and towards the bar, but not before reaching for the empty glass on the table in front of him and taking it with you.

You were quiet the when you returned, barely responding to the thanks he had offered you when you hold your drink out to him, choosing instead to quietly sip at your own gin and stan behind him, one hand rested delicately on his shoulder as you studio behind him, shielding yourself from your father and watching on wordlessly as the men gambled and played cards for a further few hours into the night.

Sam was on a winning streak, a lot of chips sitting before him, stacks of notes and coins sitting in the centre of the table that he had such a large hand out of that he would barely be able to count it, more in one night than he would earn from his little company in over three months, the kind of money that made his gut twist and his head spin, and the game was being called to an end while he was still sitting wealthy, before the inevitable pride of having so many chips got to his head and he lost them all.

As he gathered up the money being split out to him, ignoring the drunken complaints of the men around him and taking his winnings, he knew it would be a while before he was invited back to the tables, and a while before their bruised egos healed over losing such sums to someone so young. He’d been playing since he was about twelve, and he was incredibly good at the game, what could he say?

You were still suspiciously quiet, even when everybody was milling out of the small shop for the night and standing in the cold night air, breath billowing around them in the cold air, and his fingers found your wrist carefully, pulling you aside, your lips still sealed shut as he watched you imploringly shuffle from one foot to another, itching uncomfortably in your corset.

“Are you okay?”

“I am perfectly content! I am to be married, to a respectable man, and I am just grateful that it is someone I know, I am just dandy.” You offered him a forced smile, that to anyone that didn’t know you as well as he did may believe it to be real, but that was the problem. He did know you, and those weren’t your words, or your attitude, and that certainly wasn’t a genuinely happy smile on your behalf. He was prepared to question you on it, to ensure you that it was okay, but your eyes were flicking fearfully over his shoulder, before moving back to his, a slight glisten in them as they narrowed, and he turned his own head to look.

A sigh left his lips, and his jaw snapped shut out of irritation, your father standing only feet away, clearly listening in to the conversation, and Sam let an arm snake around your waist like he had done so many times before, this time trying to shield you from the drunken elder that was looming over the pair of you. “I see you and my daughter are already growing acquainted.”

His eye dropped down in a wink that made Sam’s stomach twist with nausea, and you moved slightly further into his side, a thought that made him preen a little internally, knowing that at least you trusted him, to keep you safe and to try and do right by you.

“She may go home with you, she should know the house she will be living in and maintaining. Tomorrow at noon, we will meet to discuss the details of your wedlock, but I’ll be going home now.” He waved a hand to silence of the pair of you before either of you had even spoken, leaving you to back away from Sam and tremble on your own, both of you watching slack-jawed as he walked away, leaving you both alone in the street.

“Sam..”

He was only torn from his staring of the man’s retreating figure when your voice, lighter and shakier than usual, drifted to his ears and pulled his focus to you. Your face was scrunched up in a scared expression, something he never wanted or see again on your face, and he swallowed thickly before nodding, and setting a hand on your lower back, trying not to startle you as you began to process everything that had happened or you in the last few hours.

The walk was quiet, your feet scuffing the floor, and he spared the occasional glance over at you as he allowed you time to take in all that had occurred. Your face flicked between shocked, to sad, to angry, and back to neutral, keeping every single one of your thoughts locked inside yourself, keeping everything quiet.

The only noises were the occasional brush of your feet beside his on the floor, the drag of you shoes on the stones as you made your way up along the long and winding path to the renovated house he was proud to call his home, and the jingling of the bundle of keys that he pulled from his pocket, your foot tapping anxiously on the ground as he undid the several locks on his front door, before holding the heavy wood out to him.

You had never seen the inside of his home before, it had never been appropriate for him to invite you inside, and now, it was where you were going to live. Maybe he hadn't quite thought this through, but he didn’t have a chance to follow that thought across before the door was closing behind him, our hands clenched by your sides as you watched him bolt them back up for the night, and finally, you snapped.

“What gives you the right, Sam Taylor? To step into my life and decide to take charge, hm?” You barely missed a beat, his brows raising at you, and while he knew all of this anger was entirely directed at him, he was willing to let you get all you pent up rage out of your system, even if it did involve you screaming at him. “I will not be your property, and you should have known me well enough to understand that! I don’t want to be a housewife who cowers in submission! This is the 20th Century and women should have rights, I don’t want to be a chattel for you to use as you please!”

He had to bite his cheek at your phrasing, hearing a girl shout ‘this is the 20th Century’ while talking of rights was something he may never get used to, but he waited until you were huffing out a breath and crossing your arms over your chest, cheeks red and eyes filled with a raging fire. It was a fire he had missed seeing in you, one he wanted to let roar instead of extinguishing, and when he was certain that you had finished, he let out the breath he was holding.

“I don’t want to own you, or force you to be something that you aren’t. You can be whoever you want to be with me. You don’t have to wear these ridiculous corsets that clearly make you uncomfortable, and you don’t have to bite your tongue when you want to speak, and you certainly don’t need to be anything less than a proud and strong woman of the 20th Century.”

His lips flicked up at the edges as he said the words, a very slight smirk on his face, and your entire body seemed to sag out of relief when you looked at him, checking him to see if he was really telling you the truth, and finding that he was.

“I want you to have your freedom, and you always have with me.” You were quiet, but nodding slowly and taking slow and deep breaths, before averting your gaze from his, picking at your nails as you suddenly seemed to find the wooden floors much more interesting than him. Instead, he busied himself with kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat, taking out the stacks of money from his pockets, sifting through it all to count how much he had actually claimed. “How much was your dowry?”

He’d hear you following behind him, neatly taking off your heels and placing them tidily on the shoe rack beside his front door, hanging your thin coat up beside his, but you didn’t speak to him again until he had asked you the question, your throat clearing and voice stumbling over your words in stuttered and broken sounds when you spoke. It was in mumbles, an amount he barely caught before processing the noise you had made and he thought it through. It was almost as much as his winnings, and he made a proud and sure noise in the back of his throat as he pushed the collection of papers and coins across the counter towards where you were idling, your eyes following the pile but you never once moved.

“This is approximately that much, and it’s yours. I don’t want you to feel like you need to rely on me, you can go where you want and do what you please, I’ll just be here if you need me.” He took a tentative step toward you, smiling to himself when you didn't step away from him, before he ducked his head and brushed his lips to your cheek in a soft kiss, bumping the tip of his nose against your temple as he pulled away. “There are two guest rooms, you can choose either that you like, and you can wake me if you need anything. Goodnight, darling.”

It was at least a half-hour before Sam heard the soft knock at his door, and he had been pulling back the several layers of blankets sitting on his bed, the robe he’d been wearing already hung back up, only a pair of pyjama pants were clad on him now, a single candle lantern flickering on either side of the bed.

He had to resist the urge to tell you just how modern you looked when you stepped into the room, smiling at him gently around the door, your feet now bare on the cool wood slats and your legs exposed, all the way up the soft and flimsy shorts he owned, almost swamped by one of the off-white undershirts he often wore for warmth, the sleeves covering your palms.

He offered a smile, taking a seat amongst his pillow and tucking his sheets around himself as you stepped further into the bedroom, the door falling shut behind you with a soft click, and he took a moment to take you in. Your hair was taken out of its up-do from earlier in the day, sitting around your shoulders in loose waves and tangles, marks in the hair form all the pins that had been used to hold it up, and your skin was cleaned of eyeliner and red lipstick, looking far more domestic than he’d ever had the privilege of seeing you in before.

“You know, you are just terrible at doing your washing. I think this shirt and this pair of shorts may have been the only clean items in that basket that were also dry.” Your joke was immediately enough to break the tension, and he huffed out a laugh, settling back a little further and slumping down into his pillows.

“I’ve never been any good at my washing, I just accept it however it turns out.” You made your way across the room to him, standing by the side of his bed and avoiding his eye as you instead took a few moments to take in the simple detailing of his bedroom. There was nothing judgemental about your look, instead, you were simply observing, committing it to memory, before your gaze was flicking to the patch on his top blanket that he picked at anxiously, loose threads hanging from it.

“You don’t know how to sew, either?”

“I always poke my fingers with the needles, and it always turns out a mess. When it gets bad enough, I will just buy a new one.” That answer made you frown, and you took a seat on the edge of the bed beside his legs, dropping your hands down into your lap and staring at you bundled fists intently.

“I may not be as much a lady as men would like, but I do know how to do stitch, and wash clothes. I can also cook and clean.” Your shoulders sagged a little, but the smile you offered him may have been small, but it was at least genuine, he could tell from the honest way you met his eyes as you did, exposing your soul to him easily. “I’ll try my hardest to be a good wife for you, Sam.”

He slipped his hand across the sheet, resting a large hand over your smaller one, and squeezing reassuringly, causing you to look up from your lap and hold his gaze. “I don’t want you to be what you think everyone else wants, I want you to be you. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s cook. I’m good at that, I make a very good meal out of very little, my mother taught me.”

“But, it’s my job t-”

“It’s not your job to do anything that you don’t want to. We can split the jobs between us.”

You stared at him, for a good few minutes, and he almost felt himself shrinking under your stare, before you were getting to your feet and smoothing out the creases on the bed sheets where you had been sitting. He thought you would leave, that you would be moving away from him and back out into the corridor, but instead, you were rounding the bed and lifting the sheets carefully, settling yourself beside him and moving away from the edge of the bed, closer to the warmth his body provided. “Is this okay?”

“This is okay.” He nodded at you dumbly, watching as you fluffed your pillows and blew out the lantern on your side of the bedroom, the smell of wet candle wax and smoke filling the air as only the one flickering candle kept he room alight, a soft glow that left only this section of the room illuminated, almost everything else cast into darkness.

“I like to make clothes, so I don’t mind doing your sewing too, you don’t have to buy new garments each time they tear. I also like gardening, I noticed that your front garden didn’t have many flowers, and it was rather untidy.”

“You can do anything you want with the gardens, I think anything would be an improvement.”

“Can I plant flowers?” You were looking up at him through your lashes, anticipation clear on your features, and he grinned, lifting a hand to tuck some hair back behind your ear and cup your jaw, running his thumb over your cheekbone tenderly.

“You can do anything you want with the gardens.” You were happy now, he could feel it in the way you leaned into his touch a little, before you were moving onto your side to face him, and he simply rested both of his hands on his stomach, linking his fingers together and waiting for more of your questions.

“Do I have to wear corsets?”

“No.”

“Do I have to clean for you?”

“No, we’ll share the cleaning.”

“Can I sleep in the bed with you?”

He paused, looking at you and swallowing the lump in his throat, before nodding at you and trying to relax from the way his body had stiffened. “If you’d like to.”

“I would.”

You shuffled a little closer, taking one of his hands in yours and moving it away, before linking your own fingers with his instead, resting your body down beside him on the mattress and pressing your head against his pillow, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as your body pressed up to his side, and your heartbeat began to match his as it thumped against your chest, pressed or his ribs.

He liked it, and he could get used to the feeling of having your body pressed up beside his in the bed, keeping him warm in the winter, and giving him the company he had missed for so long. You were his best friend, one of the best friends he’d ever had - in either era - and the thought of getting to have you by his side in any way, was more than enough to make him happy.

He didn’t care what became of your relationships, he had done what he did in order to liberate you from the oppressive nature of your father, to help you find freedom and live the life you wanted while being happy.

If he got to leave his family to gain the life he wanted and live happily, then you deserved the same, and he would do anything to make it happen.

He was just reaching for the little cup to extinguish the candle when your hand caught his wrist, pausing his actions and bringing his hand back toward you, your body sitting up once again, and he waited, your jaw opening and closing as you tried to find your words. You faced him more fully, sitting up and letting the sheets fall away, shuffling toward him until your knees were brushing his leg, and he sat himself up a little further, confusion beginning to seep into him as he took in the nervous expression on your face.

“May I ask you to do something for me?” He offered a silent form of his affirmation, and you moved a little closer, shaking hands coming up to hold onto his cheeks. “Nobody has ever kissed me before, and if we’re going to be married, you will be the only person who ever has. I would like to know what that feels like.”

���You want me to kiss you?” This time, it was your turn to give a silent form of understanding, nodding you consent to him and his lips tilted up at the corners. “You’re sure you want that?”

“Sam, I’ve always found you attractive, but tonight you sacrificed everything just to make me happy, and you are like no man I have ever met. I would very much like for you to kiss me.” You were nervous, colour crawling up your cheeks, and he licked over his lips, feeling his own skin heat up as he watched you. Your eyes were wide, lips a little parted and face flushed a charming colour, and in this minute you looked so pretty that Sam swore you may be the angelic woman he’d ever seen.

Placing a hand on the bed beside you, he leaned over, lowering himself down until he could drag the tip of his nose across yours, your breath washing over his lips with each small and shallow breath you let out, your eyes fluttering closed and lashes brushing his skin as he copied the motion. Your forehead was pressed to his, so close now that he could taste the gin still lingering on your lips, and with that, he closed the distance between you both.

Softly at first, his mouth pressed to your own, lips sealed in a sweet peck, and he felt the intake of breath you took in a gasp through your nose, before he was dragging his lips with your own in delicate patterns, feeling you press back with hesitation, unsure in your movements but eager to learn, and your hands fell away, one slipping into his hair as the other came down to press to his chest, and you were kneeling up into him.

He wasn’t sure what had happened, or when. He had been intending to keep the kiss brief and chaste, never wanting to push you on anything, but it wasn’t until his back met the bed again and his head was pressing into the pillows that he realised you were now kneeling over him, a leg on either side of his lap and his hands on your waist.

You were letting out little whimpers into his mouth each time the kiss grew a little messier, his lips parting a little further and his tongue flicking out a little more frequently to tease at the seam of your lips, but then your tongue was daring to peek out to play with his own, and he couldn't hold back the deep groan he let out as your tongue dragged across his. The grip he held on your hips only tightened, and your body fell down to press further into his, you nails scraping against his scalp.

“Sam, thank you.” You pressed your lips back to his own, frantic and needy and each time you came back in it was making the heat in the room rise, his palms slipping down to grip at your thighs before he knew what he was doing, but then your hips were rolling down into his, and he was bucking up to press against you, anything to draw out the squeaky little moans and sighs of pleasure you let out into his mouth every time your clit dragged over the growing bulge in his pants. “You saved me, thank you, so much.”

“I just wanted you to be happy.”

You hummed against his lips, rocking down into his hips particularly harshly, both you and him letting out drawn out sounds of pleasure at the feeling, and he had to bite down on his own lip when you pulled back just to stop himself from flipping you over and pressing you down into the mattress. “I am happy with you. You make me happy.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Your hands were pressing to his chest, your hips rocking down into his, and his eyes fluttered shut as you rode up and down over his cock, even through the layers of clothing, and he let out a weak and breathless laugh when a thought about the situation crossed his hazy mind. “You know, this isn’t very gentlemanly of me. We've only been engaged for a couple of hours. What would people say?”

“I don’t care what people say, it feels good.” You whimpered, pushing down firmly and he cursed under his breath, jutting his hips up into you and smirking at the face you made, your jaw dropping down and forming an ‘o’ as silent pleasure left you. He watched you bounce above him, hair framing away behind you as your head tipped back, and he took the chance of your distraction to flip you over, pressing you back oot your side of the bed and caging you in with a hand on either side of your head. “I want to feel good, Sam.”

“I can make you feel good.”

You nodded fervently, and he dragged a hand down over the bare skin of your midriff from where the shirt of his that you were had ridden up, and he dipped his head down to press his lips to your own, catching you in a sweet kiss that made you hum happily at the affections, pressing back just as lovingly.

The tips of his fingers dipped underneath the loose waistband of the shorts you wore, finding that there was no buried the further down he travelled, and he let out a ragged sound against your mouth upon realising that you had discarded of your one underwear when changing into his clothes. The idea of your dripping cunt brushing straight up against his clothes, the idea of you wearing only his belongings to clever yourself, the image of you walking around with him on a lazy Sunday morning and wearing just one of his tops, it was all everything that he wanted with you.

The pads of his fingers brushed over your clit, your hips jerking up into his hand as you cried out at the simple pressure, and he took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth to play with your own, a finger swirled through the wetness that had built between your folds, and he growled into your mouth, nipping on your lower lip until you let out a whine, before sucking at it and licking over the patch to soothe the low sting, distracting you as he pushed a single finger into your dripping core, and your eyes shot open, body going stiff at the intrusion.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?”

“It feels weird, but good, I’m not really sure.” He nodded, peppering your cheeks with kisses and he moved the finger within you slowly, twisting and stretching you out as carefully as he could, and soon your slick was coating that digit and flowing form you each time he pulled out, your juices covering your skin and making it easy for him to slip another finger into you. It was a stretch, and he felt you tense up once again as your eyes screwed shut, but he worked you through it, slow and steady, kissing along you jaw and mumbling reassurances into your ear.

He felt you loosen up, your legs widening for him to settle between and your lips found his again as you let out a happy sigh. A loud and unashamed cry of his name left you, and it may have been the sweetest sound Sam had ever had the pleasure of hearing, you walls clenching around his fingers and hips bucking up, before a sharper and louder sound fell from you. It was almost a scream, and he smirked into your mouth, his whisperings turning to praises as he tried to find that spot again, only a few strokes and he had located the spot, rubbing it surely each time he thrust his finger back into your wet core.

“That’s so good, what is that?”

“Mh, that’s your g-spot, sweetheart, and now that I know where it is, I know exactly how to make you feel good.” He pushed down on the spot roughly, your body trembling as your eyes rolled back and your fingers twisted in the sheets. The material of the shorts was rubbing uncomfortably against his wrist, and he wished he could see his soaked fingers sipping in and out of you greedy hole each time, but for now, this was enough, just watching you reach heights of pleasure you’d never been to before and knowing he was the one taking you there was making his heart race and head spin. “You’re so good for me, honey, so good.”

He was cooing down at you, mouthing at your jaw and neck and licking over your skin in ways that made you squirm and moan, your walls tight around his fingers as you neared your peak. He felt it coming, and slipped his thumb up to toy idly with you neglected clit as an unspoken encouragement to cum, that it was okay for you to let go, and so you did.

Your back arched up, something that almost sounded like a sob leaving you as you core clamped down around the two digits, so tights he could barely get his fingers in and out of you anymore, and he settled for wiggling them and twisting them as he prolonged your peak, choosing to drag it out as long as he could for you. You were panting, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat from the exertion and your chest rose and fell with every gasping breath you took.

He lifted his fingers up to his lips, sitting back on his heels and sucking them into his mouth to clean them, letting out an approving sound as your taste washed over his tongue, addictive and sweet, something he knew he would be craving more of soon, and he just hoped you’d let him.

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t even know. That was amazing.” He beamed, feeling full and prideful as he listened to you talk, and he settled your shorts and top back into the correct place, laying over you and propping himself up on his arms as not to crush you, brushing hair from your face and pecking your nose. “Do you need me to..”

Your gaze left his eyes, moving down to his hips, before coming back up, and you were nibbling on your lower lip, prompting him to duck his head and chuckle, kissing along the clothed shoulder that was within his reach. “No, I don’t. This was about you, there will be a whole lifetime for that.”

“Yes. Yes, there will be.” Your words were spoken with nothing but joy, and he rolled off of you, blowing out the candle and sending the room into darkness, before wiggling himself back under the blankets and making sure you were tucked in securely. He felt you shuffle up, pressing against his side and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling your nose nuzzle into the crook of his neck, his cheek brushing the top of your head when he twisted his body further toward you. “Why are you like no man I have ever met, Sam Taylor?”

A laugh bubbled in his chest, despite the yawn he let out only seconds later, and he rubbed a large hand up and down your back, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness. “You won’t believe the story I’ll tell you over breakfast in the morning.”

“M’kay.” The response was muffled as it was mumbled into his neck, and he barely caught it, choosing instead to soothe himself with the tangle of your legs with his and the steady thumb of your heart in time with his own, the two of you drifting off with only positive thoughts of the future you would soon be sharing to still linger on your mind.

[orbitariums]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟒)

part three

note - i wanna thank everyone for reading once again! i'm currently in the process of writing imagines, those will be posted throughout the week, i don't want to clog up my blog bc i want y'all to see this chapter!

this one switches pov a lil more frequently, so bear with me <3 also not as smutty as other chapters, this is more of an emotionally-charged chapter!!! still a teensy bit smutty thooo. i want to make it clear that while this fic is definitely rooted in smut & sex & sex work, it is not porn without plot & will not ONLY be smut as i put effort and time into plot development / character development! i'm sure y'all know that tho. there will be conflict, there will be plot!!! i feel like that's clear already but there's discourse on smut happening rn and i wanna voice myself! omg anyways luv y'all enjoy the reaaad <3

new taglist!

playlist

word count - 8.3k

warnings - age gap, sex work, smut, vibrator, ANGSTYYY like hella dramatic, dirty talk

That slight shift that you and Steve both felt, that happiness that you realized came from talking to one another, only lasted so long... for you. You could hardly sit in your feelings about your situation with Steve before another thing that occupied all your time came crashing down upon you. Except this time, the thing brought you no such happiness or curiosity.

    You had spent almost your entire senior year working on a special lab project about drought tolerant plants in Southern California where you lived and went to school, and your professor was making completing your project incredibly hard for you. And you felt incredibly stressed out about the entire situation - not only was the project necessary to graduate, but it was your heart and soul for the past year. Now, your professor was basically saying it was "ineligible."

     "Ineligible?" Aaliyah repeated after you, after you told her what your professor had said.

     "Whatever the hell that means," you huffed as you power walked down the street, hand in hand with Aaliyah, your free hand holding a coffee.

     "That's so fucking annoying, holy shit," Aaliyah pressed a hand to her forehead. "He had the whole year to talk to you about changing your topic and...”

     "And he never did," you sighed, frowning. You settled down onto a bench where the two of you sat next to each other, staring out into the busy streets and sipping your iced coffees.

California was a beautiful place, and you were a native, you'd lived there all your life. You knew the ins and outs of your city, knew Southern California like it was your backbone. And you loved it here - loved the sun, the beaches, the way the people were either shady in the best way or incredibly friendly. You'd never really known any other place like you knew this place. You were just glad that if you had to be stressed, you could do so in California.

Aaliyah pouted, feeling for you. She placed her hand on your knee to be comforting,

     "Babe..."

     "It's okay," you sighed. You sucked it up, like always, because you had learned how to fend for yourself ever since you realized that depending on others could only lead to downfall. You would figure this out the same way you figured everything else out... on your own. You figured out your house on your own, your job, your finances.

     "Is it, though?" Aaliyah pursed her lips and squinted at you. Despite how much you tried to fend for yourself, Aaliyah was always there for you. She was one of your biggest supporters.

     "I'll just keep visiting during his office hours and work this out."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes,

     "Men are so annoying, girl. You know what, he probably wants to fuck you. With your fine ass. That's why he's doing all this."

You chuckled, shaking your head and covering your mouth, trilling back in response,

       "Okay girl, don't get too ahead of yourself."

       "I'm serious! Men are evil. Oh, except your fave."

You made a face, nearly choking on your iced coffee. This was news to you,

       "Who are we talking about?"

       "You know," Aaliyah sang slightly, nudging you and leaning against your shoulder. "Mr. Won't Show His Face."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but bit down on your straw with a knowing smile, eyes peeking out over the top of your shades. If you were being honest, this idea of Steve, whoever he really was, had been a fun thing to entertain during this period of stress. You'd been talking and engaging with him for two and a half weeks now, and the connection you two had was undeniable.

But you knew better - maybe he wasn't just another customer, because you could really talk to him and felt like he was real - then again, he was strictly a customer. You liked him, a lot, but you couldn't like him any more than you already did. That would be dangerous and silly, and create unrealistic expectations. It wasn't like you could go on dates or anything.

    Still, talking to him (and performing for him) did help to distract you from your stress, at least for a small amount of time. Steve was becoming less shy, less inhibited. He cracked jokes and was starting to keep up with your innate sense of sexuality, starting to navigate you, find you the way a bee might find its nectar, hidden deep inside the curvatures of a flower.

If you were a flower, you'd probably be a sunflower - bright, yellow, almost always in a positive mood, or at least trying to keep yourself in a positive mood. More than that though, sunflowers were tall and looming - you felt like that represented your put togetherness and how hard you worked, how smart you were. Only sometimes it was hard to keep yourself up and tall, but you always did it, time and time again.

But when it came to Aaliyah's comments about Steve, she mostly just made you laugh.

    "Haven't seen him yet, have you?" Aaliyah asked, raising her brows expectantly.

     "No. And I'm fine with that. He's simply another very loyal customer who I happen to like."

     "Hm," Aaliyah hummed, and you could tell her mind was up to something - some very wishful, and mischievous thinking.

     "What are you up to?" you narrowed your eyes at her and glared at her, and she just shook her head with a lazy smile,

     "Nothing. Just thinking that maybe it would be cool if he really was this really hot guy that you actually knew and he wasn't creepy and y'all... you know... started dating. Just to get your mind off a lot of crap. I know, I know, strictly against the rules, blah blah blah. No feelings for customers, it's basic shit. But in a perfect world..."

      "I know," you sighed without thinking, sipping at your drink.

     "You know?" Aaliyah questioned, surprised.

You shrugged,

     "So I've thought about it. Except, you know, in a perfect world, I'd meet a guy like Steve in like, a farmer's market or something. Not on my shady ass cam shows."

Aaliyah snorted laughing, and at the sound of her laughter, you joined in.

You continued,

     "I mean, not Steve exactly, because that would be weird. I just mean, a guy like Steve."

     "You mean a guy who makes you feel the same way he makes you feel," Aaliyah corrected you, and you glared at her again, pushing her gently.

     "Don't push it," you teased, but you meant it - you might have liked Steve, but that was all there was to it - you liked him, he was a distraction. And maybe even that was too much.

✺ ✺ ✺

As for Steve, he thoroughly enjoyed his time with you. He thought constantly about how you made him feel, how much he looked forward to talking to you. How everyday, his worry about your situation becoming more serious dissipated slowly. He could feel himself easing into you, everything that made up this character you created called Moonrose. Conversation seemed casual, like you knew each other in real life, it felt easy, and there was no pressure.

As for your connection, he had finally acknowledged that it was real, and more than either of you had wanted to realize at first. But now, there was no shame, no worry in acknowledging what the two of you had, because you were both smart enough to keep it at this level. It was like a shallow pool. There would be no drowning.

He mostly talked to Bucky about you when it came to the emotional aspect of it. He still feared that if he talked to Tony, it might come across as an issue, and might put a pause on what he had with you. But everyone noticed how different Steve was acting. Even without the phase he had gone through where he was sexually frustrated and angry, he still acted different.

Lighter on his feet, more smiley. And he was always on top of his work. You weren't distracting him from his duty, so that made the fact that he knew you had a unique connection with him more bearable. Because of you, he was learning to worry less. To have a little more fun.

    It was a bright day that week, the sun filtering in through the large windows of the meeting room where everyone was gathered. Steve was engaging in some mindless conversation with Sam and Bucky in which they were debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza.

     "No. I'm not sure why everyone keeps trying to put all these twists on pizza. It's pizza," Bucky scoffed, Sam rolling his eyes as a result.

    "You're just closed off. With your old ass," Sam retorted, and Steve made a face. Sam raised his hands up in surrender. "You know what I mean. What about you Steve?"

Honestly, Steve had never even tried pineapple on pizza and he didn't understand why there was such a big fuss about the banal question.

    "I don't really have an opinion," he shrugged, not expecting Sam and Bucky to start clamoring over him and trying to force him to pick a side.

    Before he even got to grasp the situation, he felt Natasha patting his shoulder,

"Hey, mind if I use your laptop? Mine's gone haywire, don't really feel like messing with it right now."

"Yeah," Steve agreed without a second thought, setting his laptop on the table and letting Natasha handle it- she was better with tech stuff than he ever was.

Natasha would use his laptop to showcase some data and start off their morning. It seemed innocent enough —a simple, barely impacting sacrifice. But Steve clearly hadn't thought everything through, because the moment Natasha logged in and hooked up Steve's computer to the holographic projector, more than just data appeared on the screen.

In fact, a whole array of women, all of them engaging in various sexual acts or preparing themselves to, showed up on the screen. And at the top, where the browser was, were the words "girlsonfilm.com."

Steve hadn't noticed all the clamor, too busy thinking (thoughts of you and thoughts of work), until Bucky called it to his attention.

"Steve," he nudged him frantically, his voice a loud whisper.

When Steve looked up at the screen, his face couldn't have gone any redder. He hadn't thought about this at all, and he had clearly forgotten to close out his browser. His heart sunk all the way to his stomach - because it wasn't just Natasha seeing this, it was everybody. And that included Tony, who was glaring pointedly at Steve from the head of the table. Meanwhile, all the others were too busy heckling Natasha and making brash comments about what was appearing onscreen. To Steve's relief, your face didn't show up, but this just might have been worse than only your screen appearing.

     "Woah, Nat, I didn't know you got down like that!" Sam hooted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Natasha, though she was in shock as well, rolled her eyes,

     "This is Steve's laptop."

Now a hush, then another clamor of confusion and heckling, all directed towards Steve. He couldn't recoil any more, feeling the pangs of embarrassment as his eyes flashed between every one of his teammates. He felt as if there were an asteroid approaching fast, and he was right where it would land, too slow to move out of its way.

     "Steve, what do you know about 'girls on film'?" Sam nearly cackled, reading the name of the site.

Steve sighed deeply, locking eyes with Natasha as he mouthed "turn it off" to her.

     "I am, I am," she ensured him, quickly disconnecting the laptop from the projection, unplugging completely.

A beat passed, everyone staring expectantly at Steve, who was staring down at the table, trying to process his own thoughts. Like for starters, why didn't he log out the last time, and why didn't he remember to log out? And then his mind went to deeper places. He hadn't been intentionally secretive with his actions, but he had been intentionally private. It had to do with his own growth, he was learning how to navigate a world that was new to him and somehow helping him at once. He didn't want to have to share this with everyone, it was nice having this to himself, he had no intentions of revealing what he had been doing in his past time that made him so happy.

One of the reasons he didn't want everyone to know about his situation was because he didn't want to have to be concerned with what everyone else might think. Because to begin with, being on a site for cam shows wasn't exactly everyone's idea of what Captain America might be up to these days.

It was a matter of his image, what values he was supposed to hold. This didn't exactly match, and Steve had just gotten over the idea that he was a bad, sneaky person because of what he chose to indulge in. At least here he knew it was ethical and not causing harm to you as a human being.

He also didn't want to have to deal with the insufferable questioning and teasing his team would put him through, or the judgment he thought they might put him through. He felt embarrassed, exposed, and like he had been ill prepared for a situation like this. He was just grateful they hadn't seen more, because that would've been a disaster. What they had seen was only at the surface level of what he'd been doing.

But his thinking was interrupted by Tony's voice, which broke through all the silence, and made Steve realize again the eyes that were on him.

     "Well, jig's up," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Care to explain?"

Steve locked eyes with Tony, as if hopeful that he wouldn't have to, but he knew it was best for him to just spit it out. Tony shrugged apologetically, and Steve took in a deep sigh, looking around at everyone at the table.

     "What was that?" Scott whimpered, probably the most distraught by what they had all seen.

Steve nodded solemnly and began to explain himself. He would tell the truth, but that didn't mean he had to tell them everything. You would be left out of this, if anything. He'd just explain to them that sometimes, duty calls - and sometimes, it's not at all work-related.

✺ ✺ ✺

It was just hours before your cam show when another disaster struck, the first one being the fact that your professor was giving you shit about your project. You were in the bathroom, getting ready for your show, fixing your hair up and doing your makeup, laying out an outfit, doing all the things you did to feel pretty before a show.

    Your phone lay beside you on the bathroom table, pinging with messages every now and then. You ignored it, leaning closer into the mirror to get a look at your lipstick, dabbing your fingers into the pigment on your lips.

You smiled, feeling that gratifying sense of achievement. Despite what was going on with your professor, you felt like you were doing well in life. You usually had a positive mindset, enjoyed your work although you sometimes felt as if you were buried deep in all your occupations: student, office worker, cam girl, designer, young woman. Your life was never dull, and you wouldn't trade it for anything. Talking to Steve helped too, but it was more than that.

But that sense of satisfaction all seemed to dissolve when you looked down at your phone, and saw a text from an unsaved number, glaring bright on your glowing lock screen of you hiking with Aaliyah. Still, you recognized it immediately.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

I miss you. Text me back.

✺ ✺ ✺

Steve wasn't exactly keen on joining your live show today, but he did so anyway, because he still had time to himself despite the spiral of events that had happened earlier. There was nothing else to do, and he didn't want to miss out on you after attending almost all of your shows for the past almost three weeks. Didn't want to just leave unexpectedly.

It felt strange that he felt this tug of commitment, but he brushed it off. He was just fulfilling his needs, which should even be expected of him. He was stressed again, after being caught up like he was. And maybe that was all the more reason not to watch your show tonight, but he wouldn't devoid himself of the simple pleasures of life. He'd learned that lesson a while ago, from a special someone called Moonrose.

After everything transpired, he explained himself calmly to his team, slowly to ensure that they'd understand that this wasn't the beginning of a deviant phase, that he wasn't throwing away his work responsibilities to lurk on the NSFW side of the internet. Not that they ever thought that to begin with, they never questioned his abilities or his authority for a minute, not even in the midst of what they'd seen that had shocked them.

This was the product of Steve's own insecurities and his admittedly silly fear that he was somehow letting his team down. He told them that he was on the site, as recommended by Tony, to relieve some "frustration" that he felt he didn't have the time or the means to release in real life. He said that while it had helped him do that, he wasn't throwing away his responsibilities, nor was he dependent on the site or the things on it, or the people on it for that matter.

He knew that if they knew about you, all those private sessions, all those conversations you'd had, the connection you had built between the two of you, it might be a different story. But because they didn't, they appreciated his honesty. They were confused, it didn't seem like the kind of thing Steve would be into, and he ensured them that it was a shock to him as well.

But they didn't mind on the whole, it was just a shock to everyone at first. They didn't think it called for a meeting, thought it was almost humorous how serious Steve was being about such a trivial situation. Wanda had joked about how we've all been there, Thor denied ever having to do such a thing because: "I have all the romantic partners anyone could ask for. I could introduce you Steve, but these Asgardian women are fiery, far beyond anything I believe you could handle." In the end, Steve was relieved, felt like it didn't have the disastrous outcome he'd been expected.

But he could feel his guard slowly coming back up. That was a close call, and it was a little too close for comfort. He didn't want to disregard you, but he couldn't afford to sink further in, and get his team involved. He just didn't want to face the consequences he could imagine if they knew how much he decided to stick with you, how much you talked, how it was teetering off the range of normal customer to cam girl interaction.

It wasn't like he was careless when it came to his interactions with you, but he also didn't want his team to know about his business when it came to you. He didn't want them thinking he was engaging too much, didn't want it to get to the point where he was worrying again or felt like he needed to deny himself such wonderful feelings.

All these things were on his mind while he waited for your live show to start. When it did, and he saw your face, he felt a little bit alleviated. Just for now, he could have this fantasy to himself. If they knew about the site, so be it. At least he had you to himself.

      "Hey guys," you mustered a smile, waving to the camera.

Unbeknownst to your viewers, you had spent the past few hours off camera panicking, on the verge of tears, calling Aaliyah frantically so she could help calm you down. That text from that mysterious unknown number had been from your ex's number. The same ex who made you fall into dependency patterns that you worked so hard to get out of, the one who made you feel like you had to work for his love. Like it wasn't something you deserved, just like anyone else.

You had worked so hard to finally wring out all the effects of him, all the bad habits you had fallen into because of him. That was part of the reason why you worked so hard. Not because you were actively avoiding him specifically, but because you were actively bettering yourself. You weren't looking for a relationship. But you knew that if you were in one now, the same things would never happen to you.

When you got that text, it triggered a flood of memories. Feelings you had to work to suppress and actually get over for months so you wouldn't fall back into the same desperate, needy patterns when it came to your relationships with people. All over a simple text from someone you hadn't heard from in almost a year. It hurt you how easy it was to get you to crack, even if you didn't spill out all the way. But on top of the added stress because of school, you were damn close.

You would do the show tonight, anyway. It helped you to escape, although Moonrose was a part of you, it didn't one hundred translate into real life. So in a way, this helped you escape real life. Just for a while. Just like Steve.

You grinned when you saw concerned comments from your watchers:

johnGuy182

Are you okay, moonrose? You seem a little sad.

zenongirl

Girl r u ok? i missed seeing your face!!!

     "Guys, I'm okay," you grinned. And you actually felt better seeing comments from your supporters. It reminded you to cheer up - they were looking for a good show, not a sob story. You leaned back, revealing your stomach in the sheer, sparkly fringed bra you chose to wear (another piece you had designed by yourself). "It's been a looong day."

Steve watched silently, observing your behavior. He didn't notice drastic changes, but you did appear less chipper. Then again, he brushed it off. He didn't expect you to be smiley all the time, you were human too, and this was your work.

"But I'm okay," you reassured, giving that signature grin, genuine and charming and alluring. You were trying to gently distract yourself, get into your act. "I hope you're all just as lovely as I am. I have a special game for you today."

You directed your viewers to your spinning wheel, which you had been working on crafting that week for a game. You grinned as you spinned it. Each act on the wheel cost a certain amount of tokens, and by the end of the game you would garner a bunch of funds. The show went by relatively quickly as you played the game, eventually ending up completely naked.

As ordered by the spinning wheel, you were to use a vibrator. You held it against your clit at the highest setting as you watched the numbers of viewers and the tokens jump up, Steve watching as he stroked himself leisurely. Your legs shook as you restrained yourself from your orgasm so as to increase the length of your showtime, garner more coins to encourage you to come.

     "Mm," you moaned, massaging the vibrator against your clit, getting wetter and slicker by the minute, sliding the toy between your folds. You laughed, breathless. "Fuck, this thing is so powerful. Someone make me come, please make me come. Just a few more tokens for me to come for you."

Steve was hesitant, but he decided to go ahead and give you the amount of tokens you needed. And when you heard the chime of the tokens being added to your account, and saw the name it was attached to, it was like a blast of euphoria. When your legs started to shake, when you started to moan and your stomach started to rise up and down, it was genuine. It was like you were back in a private room with him, although you weren't.

Your orgasm was blood-curdling in the best way, and you felt like you were releasing part of the stress of the past day, the past week. It didn't get any realer than this, once again you felt like he was really there to satisfy you.

      "Oh!" you exclaimed, your mouth dropping open and your blood flowing, moaning. "Yes, Steve, I'm coming for you. Thank you for making me come, Steve!"

Steve had been stroking himself along with you as he watched, and only let himself come now that you had come, his cheeks heating up as he heard you moan his name, something he hadn't been expected. Something about you saying his name like that where everyone could hear, even though he enjoyed the intimacy of private rooms, felt victorious. It felt lewd, salacious, but he couldn't help but enjoy that aspect of it. He moaned through grit teeth while he came, stroking himself to completion.

You came down, thanking everyone for attending and ending the show. But it wasn't long after that you had requested Steve for a private chat. He accepted, because he had gotten used to you doing this a little more frequently. It didn't scare him any more, he just thought of it as making conversation, taking advantage of this connection you had with each other. So when you requested, who was he to say no.

When the chat log opened, you put on your best happy face for Steve, trying to conceal how fatigued this week, today in particular, had made you. But your tired, bleak voice gave it all away, buried deep beneath your smile,

    "Hey, Steve."

Steve was surprised at the sound of your voice. Again, while he understood that you wouldn't be a happy go lucky fairy like personality all the time, he wasn't expecting this. You were smiling, but the weariness in your eyes was hard to miss. And your voice, which usually told light hearted tales, sounded worn down as if from tragedy. He was concerned, his eyebrows furrowed gently,

     "Hi. How are you?"

     "I'm good!" you exclaimed, trying your hardest to really sound "good."

But you were just tired. Tired and sad, and scared - scared of what the future had to hold. You were already dealing with school stress, and the text from your ex-boyfriend was like a bad omen, an anxiety-provoking assurance that things actually would not get better and they would in fact get progressively worse. You weren't even sure why you thought you should be talking to Steve if you were tired and just wanted to sleep off the weight of the week. It would be a weekend tomorrow, and one of your very rare days off.

Maybe you figured that you wanted to talk to him despite your fatigue, because conversation with Steve was a nice distraction. You had let yourself forget that this was still your job, and that you were too tired for anything sexual — you knew he liked talking to you, but you hadn't put into consideration the fact that he might request a sexual act from you. You would be burnt out if he did. The fact that you didn't think about that should've been telling, but your brain was too scattered to think straight.

Anyway, Steve called your bluff, and laughed quietly, his voice inquiring and pressing,

      "How are you really?"

That was all it took to get a deep sigh to come from out of you, all it took to allow yourself to show your true feelings, at least the surface of them, what you felt comfortable showing a customer. You felt a sense of relief and gratefulness for Steve, like he was letting you breathe. And if anything, he especially wasn't enlisted to listen to your problems. But he wanted to, and for that you felt foolishly grateful.

    Steve noted the deep sigh that came from out of you, and he frowned slightly. He could tell you had been holding this in for a while, and some part of him felt remorse for the fact that even though you clearly weren't in the right mindset, you went on and did your show anyway. He felt some guilt for being a part of the reason why you did your show.

    You answered, allowing your voice to be as honest as possible.

    "Honestly?" you chuckled a little, albeit bitterly. "I don't know if you really want to hear me rant to you."

Steve shook his head.

    "Don't be silly," he grinned. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to."

You felt a warm rush in your chest from the reassurance, and the corner of your lip quirked up in a small smile, before you decided to dive in. You'd spare the emotional details, spare your private life. But it would be nice to talk to someone, just about the general things, right?

    "Well, it's been a pretty stressful week, honestly. I mean, school's been the main source of my stress. My professor's such an asshole, he's basically been telling me my entire senior project, which I need to complete to graduate, needs to be redone? And I can't even fathom how I would have enough time to do that with like, two and a half months left of my senior year. I mean, he said I can keep most details, but I'd have to rework it, whatever that means."

    You kept your emotions at bay, sighing in annoyance just at the story you told, because it really was irritating you. But then you felt deeper things, even more went into why you really were upset.

    Steve nodded, just listening. He was prepared to offer advice, but in your situation, he thought that maybe just letting you rant would be best.

    "That's gotta be annoying," he shook his head understandingly. "Whatever your project is, I'm sure it's wonderful. He shouldn't be forcing you to rework it or make any last minute changes."

    "I know!" you nearly jumped up, feeling amped up now. "And it's just so fucking annoying because I work so hard and I'm really passionate about this project and it just feels like..."

    It felt like you were about to overflow, like a pot of water that had been left on for too long. You were ranting almost uncontrollably now, maybe because of the fact that it was more than this that was tugging at you. Because you'd been carrying the weight of your life on your shoulders all the time, like Atlas carrying the sky, and it felt like that weight was finally starting to mean something.

    Steve could see you were unraveling and he let you, he let you take the time you needed to feel everything you had been holding. If your connection was strong, it was at its strongest here. Sure, you and Steve chatted about a little bit of everything, even had deeper conversations here and there as the weeks went by. But you had yet to genuinely complain to him, because every time you spoke with him, you were happy go lucky Moonrose, with nothing to complain about to begin with. But now, you needed a release by any means, and you were just glad Steve was there for you, even if he wasn't really there. How unlike you to unfold in front of strangers.

   Your breath stuttered as you took in a deep breath in a failed attempt to calm down, only further driving yourself into your rambling. You felt yourself tear up, your voice becoming watery as you continued,

    "It just feels like all my work is turning to shit, and it's so fucking frustrating because I work so hard all the time, I do so much and I manage so much all the time."

     The "hard work" you were talking about wasn't just school and work-related, it pertained to your journey, and how hard you had worked to be a better person. To support yourself. The emotions pent up inside of you, they were more than just being upset over a school project. The idea of someone toxic trying to re-enter your life, someone who had forced you to rework the entirety of your life, made you feel like you were on the verge of crashing. You knew better, but you didn't want to return to those dark days, where the light at the end of the winding tunnel that was your relationship seemed so far away. It was why you were so weary of relationships today. It was crazy how one person could change your life so easily.

     Now you were crying, before you even noticed that you were crying. Tears just seemed to leak out of your eyes, sloshing wet and sudden against your cheeks and underneath your lashes. You wiped them away quickly with the back of your hand, frazzled at the fact that you were crying in front of a customer right now. Steve said he'd listen to you, he didn't say he'd watch you cry and be your therapist. You instantly regretted it, although you couldn't stop yourself, tears threatening to emerge again. If you were cracked before, you were spilling now.

    Steve was surprised too, at the fact that you were crying. You appeared so put together to him, it was almost something he didn't expect from you. He was in shock at first, so much so that professionalism was not on his mind - it was an afterthought. Right now, instead of wondering if this was appropriate, he was occupied with you.

    "I'm sorry," you murmured, but you still hadn't stopped, tears falling out as you blinked. Composure was nothing now, you were sobbing, your shoulders slumped and your head hung as you sniffled. Still you enforced control, wiping away every tear that fell with the back of your hand. "I'm really sorry, I don't mean to cry to you over this, that's so-"

Steve cut you off, shaking his head slowly,

    "It's okay to cry, doll. We all have those days. I know better than anyone that we all have those days."

    You mustered a smile, feeling cared for, feeling accounted for by someone who wasn't even obligated to have to see you like this. Still you shook your head, sniffling,

    "I know. But it's-it's stupid, I shouldn't be crying in front of you."

    "I'm not judging you," Steve said, so nonchalantly and firmly, so genuine that it almost scared you.

You blinked. He should've cared, and he should've judged you. To cry in front of Steve, a customer, was to imply he had some duty to comfort you when he probably just wanted a show. You knew that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but even you had rules when it came to what your customers got to see, and to you, that meant they didn't have to deal with your blues.

     "Really?"

     "Really," he reassured you with a nod.

    Was Steve scared that by giving you this reassurance, this entire situation could become deeper than either of you could handle? Yes. But did he let himself shut down because of those pervasive thoughts that he might get himself into trouble? No. He didn't see you as a liability right now. Right now, even though the situation was certainly questionable (and this was something he had no doubt about. When emotions get into the mix, things could get tricky- he knew this), he saw you as someone who desperately needed someone to talk to. Maybe it wasn't smart of you to make him that someone, but regardless, he was, and who was Steve Rogers not to listen to a person in need?

    You blinked away the last of your tears and swallowed hard. You were making this choice consciously, to tell Steve what had really gotten you to your breaking point. And maybe telling him meant you had trust in him, maybe too much trust for someone who, while great, was still a customer. But you felt like there was nothing you could lose from telling him. Maybe you'd even feel better after the fact.

    You looked down, picking at the body glitter on your arm that you had applied before the show. Your voice was considerably quieter now perhaps because you were looking back on the moment with a clear mind for the first time since it happened. You hadn't been thinking straight ever since you received the text just hours ago. Now your brain was a little quieter with the help of your tears and Steve's reassurance.

       "I think that the stress of this school project is making me resent how hard I work for everything, just to be met with this kind of result, you know? And it's even worse when... things seem to be going backwards. You know, like when you make so much progress, moving on from things that don't serve you, and you've finally done it and you get to flourish in it and then, it just gets taken away from you. Maybe I'm being dramatic, but that's just how this feels."

     Steve nodded, his jaw ticking as he let your words settle in. Somehow, although your situation was so different from his, he felt like your words perfectly described how he felt with the world sometimes. It was even part of the reason he'd held off on talking to you like this, held off on getting too involved. He too had made so much progress in this world, which took so much getting adjusted to in a way that absolutely nobody else could relate to.

    It was a world that he didn't even know, a world that he had never been properly introduced to. He'd had to fend for himself. He did his healing on his own, just like you had. And yet sometimes it felt like he had no control, like the universe was going the opposite way of all his plans. Then he felt stupid for even having plans to begin with, because in life, making plans was like comedy for the gods.

    There was a weird feeling in his chest and stomach, like he'd been stabbed with a gutting realization, and the knife was just turning inside of him, churning his insides. He began to feel a sense of unease, because this deep conversation was beginning to feel incredibly personal. Even though you were talking about your own situation, he couldn't help but think about how much he resonated, and the fact that he felt like he could relate to you on such a deep level scared him. This was more than the conversations you'd had before, more than the simple similarities you and Steve shared. This felt like a conversation that might be too telling for his good and your own.

     He swallowed his words as he listened to you continue. You chose your words carefully, but you had shed yourself of your inhibitions when it came to being truthful.

     "Earlier... I heard from someone I hadn't heard from in a long time. And it kind of pushed me over the edge," out of your mouth stumbled a laugh. You were calmer now, and looked up at the camera, Steve swallowing hard when you did so. It was all so real, just like it was when you touched yourself and moaned Steve's name. "I think it just made me feel all those things I just explained. Because I feel like I worked so hard to rid myself of this person and them trying to come back just feels like all the things I worked so hard on are going to unravel. Even though I know they aren't, it feels like a setback. And that was like, the icing on the cake to this already terrible day, I guess."

      You let out a breathy laugh and smiled gently, shaking your head slowly.

     "I normally wouldn't be telling this to a customer. But here we are. Again, I'm sorry... I feel like I shouldn't have said anything? Should I... have said anything?"

In the brief silence that followed your question,  both you and Steve were thinking the same thing - were you going to regret this? Intimacy both physically and emotionally was good when you capped it at what you both knew to be appropriate. When it came to the physical aspects, you each let your fantasies unwind.

    And on the emotional aspect, though you had both grown closer and more open, some things just didn't get touched upon. But now you had just cried over the screen, and spoke from the depths of your heart. It was scary to open up in such an uncertain situation where your own privacy was an aspect that got involved. There was no doubt that it was too much. It was just a question of whether the result would be negative.

     Steve sighed deeply, a crease forming in his forehead as he furrowed his brows together, folding his arms over his chest.

     "I don't know..." he trailed off, took a breath, a leap, his body practically lurching forward. "But... it can't be a bad thing that you feel comfortable talking to me about this, can it?"

      And there it was, that glint of hope he was trying his hardest to conceal. That feeling he got when he got off that call with you, the one where you both started giving into those unspoken thoughts. That this couldn't be so bad, that you could enjoy each other's company without worrying.  

     You smiled gently,

    "I guess. It does feel weird though, it's not something I normally do. It feels like something I shouldn't be doing."

    You could hear Steve breathing in deeply, and for a moment, you imagined what he might look like, envisioning the outline of a troubled face, eyebrows knit together. You snapped back to reality and made a face, confused by your abrupt thoughts. You had long gotten over the very brief desire to see Steve's face- why was it coming back again?

    "I'll be honest, same here," Steve agreed with your sentiments.

    "Do you always feel like you have to restrain what you say when you talk to people? Or is it just with me?" you added that last part in a quiet voice, biting your lip.

Steve chuckled briefly,

      "Are you asking me if I have trust issues? Because I'd tell you, but I'd have to trust you to do that."

You shook your head and laughed at Steve's stupid joke, and shrugged.

     "I could say the same thing, I think. This person I heard from earlier is... I developed those trust issues because of them. Or, my already existent trust issues became worse. But what's funny about it is that this person was once someone that I loved," even as the words were coming out you questioned why you were letting them, why you were allowing yourself to be so truthful in a situation like this at a time when you were so vulnerable.

      Steve didn't reply, again feeling that sick feeling in his stomach that stemmed from his fear. The fear that this conversation were too serious, fear surrounding the fact that he was able to relate so much to such a personal situation of yours.

    You spoke again, daring to ask the question that felt like a final blow to Steve's stomach,

    "Have you ever been in love, Steve?"

Now Steve knew he was in uncharted territory. Not because he feared you might try to exploit him, but because he was so struck by the fact that he had allowed himself to feel so safe with you and get so close to you. He was surprised at himself for letting you feel safe enough to have these kinds of conversations with him. It all felt like a mistake now. He wanted a way out, any way out. He knew if he even attempted to answer that question, he would be making a big mistake. He had shared some of his most intimate moments with you, but always keeping in mind a very sharp line he didn't want to be crossed.

And in his mind, he thought of the one love he'd had, the one love that hadn't been fulfilled because of the situation he had been thrown into, one he had never signed up for. He thought of how the things he cared most for in life had been discarded, how, like you, he felt like it had gone to shit. How sometimes, though he tried his best to be grateful and had taken that journey of self-healing just like you, it all felt like some sick joke.

Could he even call it love? He wasn't sure. And he wasn't going to answer. He wasn't going to answer at all, because he wouldn't be talking to you again. There would be no chance for this dilemma to resurface, not with you, not on this site. He made the decision with haste and a heavy heart - he was done here.

      The discomfort was well evident in his voice, answering loud and clear, though his voice was morose and a bit closed off. You sensed the shift immediately.

     "I... I can't talk about that right now. Listen, I have to go."

    You felt a pang in your chest at the sudden switch in his demeanor, straightening up and trying not to frown. All this time you had been letting the words spill out, telling yourself not to worry so much, reassuring yourself it was okay to make your feelings known. Now it felt like you should've never said anything at all. You started to stammer.

      "Oh, I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry, I was just... I feel like I got a little overwhelmed." You laughed nervously. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Steve felt his throat ran dry as he blinked, feeling emotions come up to surface that he wasn't quite familiar with. Maybe he was grieving in advance, regretting the decision he was making to no longer speak with you, regretting the fact that he was letting fear get in the way of what he wanted so badly to be a good thing.

    "No, I'm sorry. I feel like I let things go too far," Steve apologized, but the apology felt more like an insult.

Was he implying that whatever this was, you couldn't handle it, and that it was his fault for somehow leading you on? You had both made the connection with each other, it was an equal effort. And why was he acting like the two of you communicating at all was somehow below him, somehow a risk? If anything, you were the one risking it just by talking to him the way you did. You were opening up to him. 

     You almost felt betrayed - you had convinced yourself that he wouldn't want to listen to your problems and you told yourself it wasn't his responsibility to listen. And then he listened anyway, told you that he wanted to hear it, and you cried to him. You felt like you had made so many unusual accommodations just for him to scare off like this. He was just another person you had expressed your feelings to, only to regret it in the end.

    "Too far?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.

Steve swallowed. In your voice he could hear a hint of frustration, but even worse- hurt. It pained him more than he cared for you to know.

    "I don't think we should talk anymore," he said instead.

    "What?" you were taken by surprise. "Steve, I'm... I'm not understanding. I... I don't usually open up to people like this, I mean, I thought maybe it was fine here, because I feel like I know you. But you're still a stranger. I understand you're a customer but I thought we were talking, I thought we broke through that wall-"

    "We did. And we shouldn't have," Steve said, his voice so calm and firm that it was almost cold.

    By now you were just staring into the computer camera, as if you were looking at him and waiting for him to come to his senses. But as you did that, you slowly came to your own. Because you weren't looking at him. You were looking at a black screen with his voice behind it. You realized you hadn't known Steve, not enough to talk about these things. And just like him, you too were full of regret. You kept all those walls up for the sake of customer relations, only to put them down and be met with this disastrous result.

    Steve almost couldn't bare to look at your face anymore. You were confused, hurt. He could tell you regretted the fact that you had opened up. He was hurt too, but he wouldn't show it, or let it overcome him to the point where your methods of communication with each other became something neither of you could control. Still, yes, he was hurt.

    But he had been through plenty of hardships in life. What was one more, even if it shouldn't have come to this point anyway?

    "I'm sorry, Moonrose. We can't. Goodbye."

Chat over.

[popculturebuffet]

Goof Week: House of Mouse: Super Goof or Wish I Could Fly Like Super Goof (Patreon Review for WeirdKev27)

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Hello all you happy gorshers and welcome back to Goof Week, my week long celebration of Goofy’s 89th Birthday. And today I take my once a month trip down to the house of mouse as part of my patron kev’s yearlong celebration of the show’s 20th anniversary. And since I had this theme week in mind I asked him if it’d be okay if he strictly randomized goofy episodes, he said yes and here we are. 

Luck was on my side as I got what I remembered was one of my faviorite episodes of the show. But before I can get if it lived up to the hype or not a brief word on Super Goof. 

Super Goof is actually from the comics, first debuting in a story where Goofy thought he had super powers and fought the Phantom Blot in a cowboy hat. 

This concept was a hit so in 1965 Goofy was made a superhero for real with Super Goof #1. This dosen’t suprise me: this was the height of the silver age: The Lee and Kirby age of Marvel was in full swing and DC was still doing gangbusters. So there was market for a superhero spoof comic starring one of Disney’s best and brightest characters, who was given a bunch of super peanuts called super goobers to give him superman powers.  What DOES surprise me is the series lasted 74 issues from 65-84. And what’s more insane and wonderful? It didn’t get canceled because of low sales or anything. That was simply when Gold Key shut down... and Gold Key was FOUNDED three years before it meaning this book lasted the company’s ENTIRE lifespan. I’ll say that again, a book about goofy eating peanuts that started because of a story where goofy thought he was a superhero and fought a cowboy phantom blot, lasted 74 issues and only ended because the publisher shut down. That... is one of the most amazing things I have ever heard in my life. I’m genuinely impressed... this isn’t even a bad concept, I likes it and wish Disney would give it a full series. Farmer could do wonders with it. I’m just amazed that this odball little comic took off like it did. And as one final fun fact much like Superman, Super Goof set off the trend of Disney’s classic characters becoming heroes, with Donald’s own Papernik/Duck Avenger following in his footsteps. I REALLY want a Disney Superhero Verse in animatoin now, I know there was a mini series like that. And I will have to visit these comics at some point I just simply didn’t have room in the week with a movie review tomorrow. . 

So with all that out of the way how does Super Goof do on screen and does the episode hold up? Join me under the cut to find out. 

As usual for HOM I’ll be doing the shorts and overarching story seperate soooo

How To To Take Care of Your Yard:

Look anyone whose read my stuff or even just my goofy shorts special  will know how much I love the How To Shorts and how this series is responsible. This admittedly isn’t one of the BEST of them.. but it’s still fun to watch. Even a forgettable How To Short is still GOOD. It’s abotu Goofy taking care of his yard over the four seasons and has some decent gags but nothing really standout.  I Honestly DO wish I had more to say but this one’s just okay and it woudln’t stick out as much if both the wraparound and the other short weren’t so spectacular. Speaking of which. 

Locksmiths: This is one of the few shorts I VIVIDLY remembered from childhood and for damn good reason. This is THE best short i’ve seen so far for House of Mouse this year and for good reason. The premise is simple enough: The Golden Trio are locksmiths.. who end up getting locked inside their own office just after Minnie calls with something urgent to tell them. 

The results are comic gold, with the standout bits being Goofy’s keys which is just such a wonderful hurricane of puns with some great visual gags to start it off that I can’t help but love it

There’s TONS of other good stuff too: The boys fishing for the key, Mickey opening a ton of doors in a sequence MST3K would be proud of and the finale with the boys falling out the office. This is a true , hilarious classic and my words can’t really do it justice. Seek this one out on it’s own or in the episode you will not regret it. A true classic for Disney Shorts period. 

Super Goof:

So onto the main story. Goofy asks Clarabelle out and she’s not only incredibly receptive but simply asks to check her schedule.. which he interprets as no.  I would make a joke here but i’ts clear from previous episodes HOM goofy has Low Self Esteem: he was utterly crushed not having a valentine and by his friends all wishing he could be less Goofy. So him overreacting like this is in character and comes off as endearing: it’s not that he thinks so low of her he’d think sh’ed pull something like this.. it’s that he’s so doubtful of someone liking him for who he is deep down he self sabotages something I can PAINFULLY relate to as that’s one of my biggest personal issues hands down. 

So outside presumably on break...

Not THAT kind of break. Though since I bring it up: they both were wrong. They WERE on a break, and it was wrong of tweedle dee and tweedle dum there to keep needling it ESPECIALLY since their the ones who TOLD HIM to hide his sleeping with the waitress and took NO responsibility for that. Rachel treating it like an affair constantly when she’s the one who wanted space and didn’t give him any paramerters for said is fucking terrible. It’s telling that in the reunion trailer everyone but Matthew LeBlanc, who was clearly just having some fun agreed they were.  That being said Ross still slept with someone five seconds after being on said break, still listneed to the two of them on hiding it when it was a bad idea, and STILL caused said break by being a clingy asshole to such a degree even his previous history of being cheated on does not justify or excuse how badly he treated Rachel. What i’m saying is they both sucked, and thus deserved each other, and by the end NEITHER was remotely likeable, with both having done terrible things both in said will they or won’t they hellscape and outside it, with Ross dating a student and Rachel dating her assistant. 

Anyways after that thing I clearly needed to get off my chest, we get a narration informing us a METEOR IS COMING and it strikes the peanuts Goofy’s depression snacking on, as a result he becomes SUPER GOOF! And after a display of his powers with various disney characters (finding Gepetto and Pinocchio in a whale, saving the dalmations from cruella , lifting the giant from the littlest tailor) and finds he has a narrator. No really Goofy notices and is not happy about it despite all superheros having one. I mean he’s not wrong, look what the X-Men’s did to  Cyclops:

But regardless he has him and Goofy flies through the air with the quickest of ease through the house of mouse impressing everyone who has no idea he’s goofy. This gag is a carry over from the comics and a transparent parody of the superman clark kent thing. But it works because Goofy still uses his name in costume, still has his hat and really changes nothing about his appearance. It’s simple but sometimes you just need a very simple gag to work and overxplaning it spoils the whole thing. Trust me I know as a certified experinced fuck up. 

So after the first cartoon Super Goofy guest stars, and we get some neat gags with the disney movie characters, though my faviorite is Peter Pan’s reactoin of “He Can fly he can fly he can fly, big deal. Anyone can do that”. It’s both perfectly in character and utterly hilarious. 

Goofy however starts to feel disheartneed as everyone compliments him.. and Minnie says he’s better than a regular goofy as do the others minus Mickey because he’s a good egg. And Clarabelle but he misinertperts her like of super goof as her liking him better as that. 

So fed up with everyone liking him better, Goofy throws away the peanuts, which he kept in his hat.. though one did fall in his waiter’s uniform. Remember that. The narrator questions if this is really the end and what if there’s peril but Goofy’s stubbornly instiant he won’t do it no matter what. 

Cue the what: another MUCH LARGER metor heading straight for Mainstreet

Goofy refuses to summon super goof despite the danger... Mickey has an apt response for him

This is the one scene I don’t really like: Goofy has a righ tto be upset they all prefer someone who just showed up hours ago over him, especially beceause it IS him, to the point Daisy was upset she got a picture of goofy instead of super goofy because J Jonah Jameson’s not going to pay for pictures of his next door neighbor. But Mickey has a right to not want to die horribly in a cataclysm of fire. 

So Goofy mopes off like his son to go save the world, fine whatever. Only as is cartoon law, the trash has been picked up meaning he dosen’t have any goobers.. except the CHEKOVS GOOBER. With it he chews it, flies up and has a truly impressive display holding it back while it’s just over clarabelle before dispoising of it. he hits on her in super form but she says she already has  date with regular goofy. Goofy’s confidence is restored, he’s probably getting laid tonight and we close on a Mike add for a school for Goofy’s. How much is tution.. asking for a me. 

Final Thoughts: This wraparound was great, a few small flaws but it has a great, engaging charcter driven story with some delightfully silly jokes that are right up my ally. It’s easy to see besides my love of superheroes why this one stood out to me: It’s funny, heartwrenching and stars one of my faviorite character.

The shorts are also good, one that’s okay , a bit too long but not bad, and one that’s an utter masterpiece. In fact the only reason the first short feels so long is you really want to get back to the main plot fast,  and that’s not a bad problem to have. This was an excellen tepisode and I recommend seeing it out. 

Before I get to my whole patreon speil, i’d like to say that House of Mouse STILL is not avaliable on Disney+ for reasons that haven’t been made clear. As such it’s on my Not Streaming List, a list I keep and update reguarly of shows that SHOULD be streaming on a particular service and have no clear reason NOT to be such as musical rights issues like the ones likely keeping shows like Drew Carrey, Northern Exposure and Murphy Brown off streaming. So check that out if your curious, link is on my main page and hit me up if you have any suggestoins for it. 

So thank you for reading and if you liked this review give it a like and consider joining my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. As a patron you’d get access to exclusive reviews, the patreon’s discord and to pick a short each time I do one of these shortstaculars. Donald’s comnig next month and the deadline is in only a few days to join up for said month so the clock is ticking. Even a dollar a month helps me reach my stretch goals so please i fyou can sign up today and if not, I understand and i’ll see you at the next rainbow