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jarofstyles · 5 months ago

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Flower 2

Okay so I really love these babies so I think I'm gonna do 3-5 parts! I'm loving the tension hehe. Let me know your thoughts!

Flower Masterlist

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WC-4.6k

Warnings- mention of age gap romance, mention of bdsm, mention of bad sexual experiences, loads of sexual tension, low-key sugar daddy h, trust me

Sleep didn’t come too easily for her, but she felt absolutely wired when she woke up. Her coffee only made it worse as she wrapped herself up in the dark wash denim jacket she’d borrowed from Harry when he drove her home a few weeks back. His truck pulled into the driveway and she was grabbing her tote bag and phone, making sure to lock up before turning to face him.

There was a weird expression on his face- something she couldn’t place. It wasn’t quite angry or mad, but it was a little darker as his eyes ran over her face and then body. He remained quiet until she got down her porch steps. “S’that… my jacket?” He asked lowly. The tone was strange to her as he stepped closer, tugging on the collar of it.

“Yeah, it’s really cute and I figured I could wear it around today and give it back to you at the end. Is that… is that okay?” She worried her brows. “I can take it off now if you want to wear-“

“No.” He cut her off. “No, it’s totally fine. It just… it looks really good on you, is all.” He mumbled, squeezing her shoulder. “You look beautiful, as always.” His compliment was genuine, feeling his finger tap her nose, making her crinkle it. “Put the shiny stuff on it again? Your fairy sparkle?”

Y/N laughed out loud at his nickname for her highlight on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Mhm. I got a new pink one, think it suits me.” And maybe she’d been a lot more meticulous about her makeup now that she had a feeling this may be a more-than-friends situation. “I really like this look.” It was a tease, considering he wore the same thing off duty. Jeans and some sort of tee shirt with a quirky phrase or obscure musician on them. Today’s was relatively tame with a bee surrounded by some words about honey and health. Cute. “I actually like the tee today. A bit muscle-y.” His arms looked real fucking nice in this one. Of course he would have some considering he worked with his hands and was a pretty physical person but… damn. She allowed herself to admire it, respectfully.

It wasn’t something she’d caught before but a slight pink brushed his cheeks at her compliment. “Thanks, petal.” He smiled. “I… I got us some coffee, got your favorite. It’s only half an hour away but I figured….”

“You know I love coffee. You’re the best, as usual.” She sighed, leaning into him to have a hug. It wasn’t usual for her to do it first but he reacted quickly, pulling her close as he rubbed her back, content to keep her there forever. He was never the first to pull back from a hug, but Y/N would happily stay like this for hours if the option was there. He smelled good, was so warm and sturdy and he knew exactly how to play with hair. Unfortunately she did have to pull back, shooting him a shy smile as he took her by the shoulder to the car.

Of course he opened the door for her, made she she was in properly before jogging to his own side. He ever did the whole hand on the back of the seat while backing out move, which… wow. It never missed. The weirdest turn on, but something about it just elevated a man.

His car smelled ridiculously good, and judging by the little clips on his air vents, he had just changed them. He had a few lanyards for access to work yards and membership cards to certain stores, but no fun little fuzzy dice, or a air freshener with a kitty on it like she had. There and then, she took a mental note to get him one. Maybe a puppy one, though. His German shepherd was his best friend.

“Are you getting any books?” She asked him after a little time passed. The chatter had been casual so far, easy. The tension she felt since last night wasn’t bad in the car if she continued topic switching and slight gossip.

“Mm, I dunno. I haven’t done much reading lately. What are you gonna get?” He questioned, sneaking a peek at her as they stopped at a red light.

“Probably romance. I’ve been most interested in that. I’ve seen some good book recommendations online and the girls sent me some, Gia and I wanted to do a book club thing for one of the books by our favorite author. It’s a bad boy romance but it’s called Reaper.” She figured he’d have no idea what that was, but she watched his brow raise as he gave her a look.

“Well… you do have a naughty side, don’t you?” He snickered, watching her eyes widen. “Think m’clueless? Just because I don’t read a lot doesn’t mean my ears don’t work. Tony told me his wife was reading that and it’s full of sex. Basically erotica.” He licked his lip, looking her over.

“Oh- well, yes there’s sex but there’s plot to! Just because a book has sex doesn’t mean it isn’t good!”’she crossed her arms, huffing at him. It was a bit to rile him up a bit considering he was doing it to her and it worked. She watched his mouth open and close before rushing out an explanation.

“No! No, m’not saying that. It’s not bad at all. It’s empowering, but uh, I was just saying I didn’t expect you to read books like that.” He had to pull away as the light turned green but he looked a little stressed that he offended her.

“I’m joking, H. I know you didn’t mean it like that.” She snickered, watching his face turn to a bit to a scowl. “What, you thought I’m a nun or something? Just cause I’m not spilling all my stories at the table doesn’t mean I don’t have them.” She knew a lot of the group was very open about their sexual experience which was more than fine with her. Y/N was nosy and loved knowing other people's business, But in her life she didn’t share sex related things. It was private, for her and her partners. She didn’t want to betray their trust either, regardless of the terms they were on.

“I….” His face was more pink now, hands flexing around the wheel as he cleared his throat. “I just thought maybe you didn’t care as much about it. Which is fine, by the way! It’s cool. I just wasn’t sure you cared too much. You never talk about it when we have our confession nights so I… I was being a bit presumptuous. I’m sorry. It just shocked me a little.”

It was funny to make him squirm a bit but he didn’t need to feel bad. “It’s fine. Promise. No one really asks anyway, so I don’t offer it up first. I’m usually private about it because some of our friends are loud mouths but you can ask me stuff if you want. Maybe after we get our books you can ask me whatever questions come up.” She knew there would be plenty based on his face alone.

“Really?” He seemed surprised. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not trying to be weird or anything but you know about the time I called someone by the wrong name and the girl who put her tongue in my ear so….” He shrugged one shoulder.

“Oh, god.” Her giggle was muffled by her hand. He had shared some of his horror stories and she’d found out he was a bit of a bondage fan and dabbled in kinky stuff but until now that info had been locked away in her brain under padlock and key. Suddenly someone had taken nippers to the lock and it was spilling out again, staining the floor. “Yeah… I suppose that is fair.” Angling her knees towards her, she stirred her coffee with the straw. “I think the worst thing that’s happened to me… hm. Probably the time I went home with a guy after a few dates in college and his place was really gross, but he was even more so. Like…” her nose scrunched. “Took his pants off and there was a smell coming from them. I couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, wincing at the thought. That was pretty much a nightmare situation. Harry always smelled good and never seemed to be anything but hygienic so she knew he gave a shit about it but still. No one wanted to think of that. “That’s… unfortunate for both of you. Was he embarrassed? How did you get out of it?”

“He wasn’t, is the thing. Said ‘girls should like a natural musk’ and I told him that it wasn’t a musk, it was a stench. He wasn’t happy with that so he didn’t refuse when I left. I had to take a long shower after that.” Shuddering in disgust, she hated recalling that. “At first I felt really guilty too, cause that’s such a hard thing… but he ended up being such a dick. It was surprising considering he had been sweet on the dates but apparently men change a lot in the bedroom.” That was an understatement.

“I can agree with that, but I’d hope it’s a positive change.” He shook his head at the thought. “Like, sweet in the streets and freak in the sheets or whatever the saying is.”

A laugh peeled from her throat, leaning her head against the headrest with her face turned towards him. “Yeah, close enough. But ideally they would be. I dunno, you don’t have to be crazy to be good in the bedroom but I’d hope for the same level of respect. Some men have no idea how to actually handle women so it’s partly why I stopped dating.” And why she had stayed up looking at his Instagram last night and thinking about how she’d look inserted in his life. Harry seemed like a man who could potentially handle her.

“I wish I could disagree but I can’t. I’ve heard many horror stories from girls, way more traumatizing than men. It’s why…” he stopped himself. “Sorry, was gonna overshare. But I can only imagine how it is and if it’s any consolation, I’m sorry for all the men.”

God, he was cute. But… wait.

“No no, you can definitely overshare.” She perked up. “If you want to, anyway. I don’t mind.” Blinking at him, he cut a look at her and let out a laugh as he lifted a hand to run it over his chin, the slight sound of skin scratching stubble audible in the cab of his truck.

“Well, I was gonna say it’s why I try t’be aware of that when I’m with someone that their comfort is first. If there’s anything they don’t like they can say it, that m’not gonna be mad. I don’t want someone to walk away from something with me and feel uncomfortable.” Seeing him a little shy was really fucking adorable. “I don’t really do hookups anymore. They’re not fulfilling, at least not to me. Lost their appeal a few years ago but, the few relationships I’ve been in the whole goal was to make them feel good. I think there’s a lot of selfishness that’s mainly revolved around men and sex, which I noticed a lot. The fact that a lot of women aren’t getting off at all is fucking ridiculous.” He scoffed, looking truly bothered by it.

Another point added to his growing list.

“Yeah, it is. It was rare I could because for me, and I think a good amount of women, there needs to be the foreplay aspect of it. Mentally, I need to be stimulated. Y’know, like teasing or not so clean talking.”

It was her turn to feel a little shy but she powered through. “And men can dive right in. It’s where we differ a lot of the time. I think part of it is biological too, I guess. I tried hooking up for a while but it never did anything for me either. I prefer someone with a connection so it’s easier to get to that point.” Now she was the one oversharing.

“I understand that. I like those things too. A bit of cat and mouse can be fun…” he pushed his hair back before returning his hands to the wheel, squeezing it. “It’s laziness and selfishness. I’d say for me personally, M’more of a giver. Not saying it to praise myself or anything but it’s just… it’s what I like.” There was a pause. “Sorry if that’s a bit much.”

No, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. Her neglected cunt was more than interested in how he was in bed and if he’d like to be a giver for her, but she had to at least try to behave.

“It’s not. We’re just being honest, right?” She placed a hand on his knee, giving a daring squeeze and let it linger for a few moments before peeling it away. Again, testing the waters of initiating touch. Once she’d realized last night that she hadn’t shown her own interest much she had vowed to at least try today to see how he'd respond.

In this instance his smile grew and he couldn’t look right at her, but he nodded at what she’d said. “Yeah. I jus’ don’t want to seem like some creep. But uh, what other sort of books do you like? Romance, yeah, but what sort of tropes?” He did know some of those.

“Oh, I’m pretty adventurous.” A double meaning. “I like the grumpy and sunshine ones, the billionaire romances, mafia is a guilty pleasure. Meet cute is something else I enjoy for a light read. I dunno, I think I mainly go for what the summary calls to me for. I do read some darker stuff but it’s nice to have a little fantasy world to escape to. And the fantasy men know how to find a clit.” Throwing the joke in there was meant to diffuse some of tension but somehow it seemed to make it grow.

Not in a bad way, per say, but he looked at her curiously. “Don’t tell me that all of them couldn’t….”

“No, no. Some of them did, but majority no. They rub the side and think they’re doing something. But I’ve never faked it, I refuse to give a man an ego boost for something he didn’t do.”

“Good on ya, petal. S’bullshit that they get off and you don’t.” He genuinely seemed bothered by it. “Buncha pricks is what they are.”

“They are.” She snickered. “But I’ll let you read some of the blurbs for the books I pick out today, you can get a read on what sorta books I like.” It was yet again, another way to experiment.

“I’m very intrigued to see what you’re into.”

Y/N hopes that held a double meaning too.

—-

Harry was hovering a bit.

Normally that would annoy her. She’d huff and tell him to sit in the cafe, or go look at his own books- but she hoped that it was because he was paying attention to what she picked up.

Plus, he was holding the basket for her.

The store was earthy and rustic, exposed wooden beams running along the ceilings. There was a little cafe that served teas and coffees which she definitely planned on getting after her shopping, and from her nosy look over when Harry greeted the owner she had seen a blueberry scone. That would be coming home with her too.

The shelves were high and they had multiple different sections. It was far bigger than any indie bookstore she had been to in the past , and that lead her to quickly realize quickly she was going to make a monthly trek out here. Maybe Harry would be interested in joining her in them.

Maybe he’d be interested in doing a lot more with her.

“I’m almost done.” She promised, plopping a used copy of a vacation town romance into the basket. It had to be a little heavy but Harry didn’t complain. It didn’t even look like the weight bothered him, the basket hanging off his arm. They’d stuck mostly to the used section considering they were far cheaper, but she was ready to go for the new ones now.

So what if she took a little bit out of her savings for this? She deserved a little treat for once.

“There’s no rush, Flower.” He assured her, following closely behind her as she moved towards the new books. “I was wondering if….” There was a pause as she looked up at him. It seemed to make his brain buffer for a moment, his eyes looking over her face before he blinked out of the stare. “Uh, it you wanted to have lunch or something after?”

Why was he so cute, and why did he look so nervous? Maybe Y/N wasn’t giving the signals she needed to. That would be her own fault, but it was hard to flirt when she was as serious as she was about her books.

“On the condition that the iced mocha with a pump of caramel and the blueberry scone I get for the car ride doesn’t count as lunch, yes. I would very much enjoy that.” She chirped, watching the nerves melt off of his face. It was mind boggling that her of all people could cause him to be nervous in the slightest but you learned something new every day.

“I’ll agree, because that’s more suitable for a dessert.” He drawled. Harry did like to tease her about her sweet tooth which always made her roll her eyes. So what if a girl liked to have a brownie with each meal? Life is nothing but spinning on an orb in space. You may as well enjoy the creature comforts.

“If that’s your dessert I don’t think you’ve had a true one in a while.” The flirtation was light, testing the waters as she looked over the book covers. His eyes could be felt on the side of her face as he was quiet for a moment before letting out a little laugh.

“Suppose I haven’t. You’re right. Maybe I’ll need to try yours and see what you mean.”

And oh. Oh. She did everything in her power not to react besides a little smirk, though she could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Harry could most defintely try her dessert whenever the fuck he wanted.

“Should you be so lucky.” Was her slightly snarky reply, but he followed it up quite quickly.

“One could only hope, Petal.”

And yeah, maybe she felt her new heartbeat between her thighs as the newly heavier silence settled on them like oil in water, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. The anticipation was in her stomach as he got a bit closer, looking over her shoulder at the book she had picked up and was currently reading the back of.

“What’s this one?” He asked, so close that she could feel the heat of his body against her back.

“It’s called The Highest Bidder. It’s about… a girl who goes on an auction block at a BDSM club, he is one of the owners? Well he’s one of the richest. Anyways, I saw someone recommend it saying it has sugar daddy vibes and there’s some juicy stuff in it.” Y/N explained, taking the moment to lean back into him as she held the back cover for him to read.

If he was surprised he didn’t show it. Instead, his hand came up to rest on her shoulder, pinky finger nearly grazing the side of her neck as he looked over to read. Such a casual touch of affection, but he seemed to like it. “And you’re gonna get this one?” It was a bit weirdly arousing feeling the vibrations of his words through his chest and onto her back.

“I think so. I haven’t read an age gap for a while. Just hope the sex scenes aren’t shit. It’s hard to tell with books sometimes, even if they’re more kinky oddly enough. I’ve seen books that have the best summaries and seem super steamy have a two pump sex scene- or fade to black. Which, you know, is fine. Not all books need to have that, but what’s the point of making the book seem like it then?” She muttered. Clearly she had been victim to it a time or two. “Then the authors get mad about low goodreads reviews. It’s like, cmon! Don’t mislead the readers about the book then.”

It was something the woman did get passionate about when provoked, but Harry had opened that can of worms in the car when he had given his go ahead that he didn’t mind discussing things like this with her.

“Mm. I see.” He nodded and she swore she could hear the smile in his voice. “Show me the others you want to get.”

Y/N felt increasingly more comfortable as she went through the next five books, letting him read the back covers and giving him the low-down about what she had heard about them. Each time they moved their position would go back to where it was, with his hand on her shoulder and her back leaned into him, only he had gotten a little braver with running his smallest finger back and forth over the side of her neck.

It nearly made her choke when she first felt it. She definitely stuttered when he did it, but she didn’t comment on how the little action felt incredibly intimate and soft, yet charged with an unspoken sexual energy that would probably kill her if she thought about it too long. Harry was being casual about it, but he always had been. He’d been the first to initiate most touches with her that Gia said were abnormal. Of course he didn’t start off their friendship by being super grabby and touchy but it had morphed into that, and it definitely did take him by surprise when she had initiated last night and again today. Kind of like she was reinforcing that it was more than okay to touch.

“Are you sure you’re done?” He asked after placing her final book in the basket. Y/N felt like if she didn’t stop this weird, hot position of him asking questions about the books earnestly and his chaste-yet-sexy touches she may bend over the book table and get inappropriate really fucking fast.

“Mhm.” She assured him. “Please, I’m gonna have to dip into the rainy day fund to afford all the stuff from today but it’ll be so worth it.” The sun shone through the windows and highlighted his features which, god, had her testing her own willpower. Of course she was far too shy to be super direct with him verbally, but she didn’t hide the fact that she was admiring him.

Considering she had already been successful in her little experiments today, she saw the lock of hair that had flopped over his forehead and decided to push it back. Letting her fingers card through his hair, she pushed the strands out of his face and back into place. If she hadn’t been looking so intently she wouldn’t have seen the shiver he had from the action. His hair was so soft and obvious that Harry took care of it, and she had never really touched it all that much but the temptation had been too much. “Sorry, it was bothering me so it must have been bothering you.” She said simply, giving him a small smile. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom quickly and then we can check out. Okay?”

“Course.” He cleared his throat, nodding his head as if the question had taken a moment to load in his head. “I’ll be by the cafe then.”

Y/N really hated that bookstores made her have to go in there but it was a right of passage. Taking care of her business took only a few minutes, but when she came out she didn’t see him at first.

He wouldn’t just leave her, so it took her a second to realize he was leaving the counter, two bags of books hanging off his arms and two coffees in the little tray. A brown paper bag clutched crumbled in the hand he used to balance the drink tray, making her eyes widen.

“Hey! I was gonna pay for our coffees and stuff.” She pouted as he approached. “You’ll have to let me get lunch then.” Her eyes went down to the two tote bags with the store logo on them. “Ooo, that’s so nice that they gave you these to hold them in. Let me just grab my wallet and we can go to the till to-“

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off, shrugging a shoulder. There was a pregnant pause, her eyes blinking rapidly before her eyebrows crinkled.

“What do you mean? I have to pay.”

“They’re paid for.” The reply was simple and matter of fact. Again, words escaped her as she looked between him and the books.

“Did you-“

“I paid. It’s fine, Flower.”

“Uh, what?” Her eyebrows shot up as her stomach dropped. It did the weird thing that had her feeling a little lightheaded as he stood there, like he didn’t just spend probably close to two hundred on books. “No way I can accept that.”

“If I told you I got a discount for building this place will it help?”

“Harry.” She said quietly. “You…. Why?”

“Because I’m happy you agreed t’spend the day with me.” The reply was so to the point, not hiding anything at all that it almost felt unreal. Hell, it did feel unreal because who the fuck spent two hundred on books for a friend? Granted, she had a feeling-or a hope- there was a crush in there, but it felt like a huge gesture.

“You already do so much for me.” She swallowed the lump down her throat. “You help me at my place and you drive me home from get togethers and you buy me drinks when we go out and… I feel like it’s a lot. I surely don’t do as much for you.”

“I’d do even more if you let me.” He stared honestly, nothing but truth on his face. “So jus’ let me do this for you. I want to. It makes me happy.”

Y/N didn’t know how to argue with that. Instead, she nodded, and reached to take the bag and coffee tray from him since he had the much heavier books. “Thank you. I could cry, probably.” That wasn’t a joke. Her eyes felt like they were stinging.

“None of that, Petal.” He shook his head. “C’mon. I’ve got plenty of questions and you’ve got answers you promised me on the way here.” Without thinking twice, he grabbed her free hand with his own, tangling their fingers before leading her to the truck.

Y/N had no idea how so much had changed in 24 hours,

But she had a feeling it was about to change a whole lot more.

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cyarikaplease · 11 days ago

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if i could give you the moon

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

summary: You move into a new neighborhood and decide to join the local YMCA to meet people, bringing you to Joel Miller and his wife, Liz. You develop a small crush on him, keeping it to yourself. But when he reveals to you that he’s in open marriage, you decide to take a chance on him, no matter the consequences.

Warnings: lots of angst and smut

You’re standing in a long line at the YMCA waiting to sign up for a membership. It’s kind of crowded and you’re wondering if this is a bad idea. But then again the Y is so close to your new apartment. It would be kind of pointless to sign up for a membership somewhere else that’s farther away and probably more expensive. So you wait until it’s your turn. The woman sitting at the desk hands you your little YMCA card for your keychain and says, “The gym is upstairs and the pool is down the hallway on the left. Both have locker rooms attached.”

You nod and head down the hallway, pushing past the doors into the pool room. The strong scent of chlorine hits your nose as you enter and your feet make a splish sound when you walk on the wet tile. You spot the door to the locker room on the other side of the pool, scanning the room as you do but trying to make it not look like you’re staring at people. The truth is you just want friends. You’re new to the community and eager to make friends. And the Y seemed like a great starting point for new friendships.

It seems to be mainly women at the pool today which makes you feel a little more comfortable. You go into the locker room and change into your swimsuit. And that’s when you meet a woman a little older than you named Liz who’s using a locker two spots down from you.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says, not looking at you while she changes into her swimsuit.

“Just joined today,” you respond.

“I’m Liz Miller,” she says, turning to you and holding out her hand, “My husband and I come here.”

You tell her your name and ask, “Do you live in the neighborhood?”

“A few streets over. You?”

“My building’s two blocks away.”

“Nice. Are you new in town?”

“Ahh so you don’t know anyone. Well I’ll be your swimming buddy today.”

“Sounds good to me,” you tell her, following her back out to the pool.

You get in the pool without needing to adjust to the temperature; it’s already pretty warm. You swim laps with Liz, stopping occasionally to talk in between. Your eyes burn from the chlorine and you make a mental note to pick up goggles. She tells you about her husband, Joel. He works in construction and she works in advertising. She’s leaving for a work trip tonight for two weeks in New York City. Your first friend and she’s already leaving for two weeks. Looks like it's back to square one for now. Eventually it’s time for her to go and you’re feeling a little winded anyway. You get changed back into your t-shirt and gym shorts in the locker room and skip using their shower. You live two blocks away so what’s the point in showering here. You walk back out to the lobby together and that’s when you meet Joel.

You’re taken aback for a moment at just how good looking he is, even under the shitty fluorescent lights in the lobby. His hair is a little damp, presumably from sweating after a good workout. His facial hair is a bit patchy but it’s endearing. His warm brown eyes feel like they’re staring directly into your soul as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering just a little too long. But Liz doesn’t seem to notice. You notice that he’s not wearing his wedding band although Liz is wearing hers. Maybe he just forgot to put it back on after working out? It’s a shame he’s married because he’s totally your type. But you’re just glad to have two new acquaintances.

“Now you have two familiar faces here,” Liz says, smiling at you.

The three of you walk out to the parking lot together but they go to separate cars. You get the sense that they don’t seem like a couple that’s codependent on each other. Or they both came here straight from their jobs. Who are you to judge? You just met them. You have no idea what the dynamic of their relationship is like.

You walk home as the sun starts to set. It’s a warm evening in late June and the Y membership is about to come in handy when you need to cool off from scorching summer heat. You go home and take a shower before winding down for the evening and heading off to bed.

Work goes by pretty slowly the next day. You’re anxious to swim or even work out in the gym to exert some of your stress. You’re also just eager for a chance to make more friends. You come from work and change into work out clothes, bringing your swimsuit with you in your bag. You walk to the Y and contemplate working out in the gym but opt for the pool instead. You change in the locker room and step into the pool. It’s pretty dead tonight. There’s only 3 other people swimming in this ginormous pool with you. You swim a few laps by yourself before getting bored and deciding to leave. But as you get out of the pool you notice none other than Joel Miller walking through the door on the other side of the room. He catches you looking at him and immediately walks directly towards you. You feel a little self conscious for a moment at the fact that you’re greeting him in your sopping wet swimsuit that’s clinging to your body.

“Hey, how are you?” he smiles.

“I’m alright! Did Liz leave last night?”

“She did. She left around one in the morning.”

“Damn that’s late. Aren’t you tired from driving her to the airport?”

“Nah, she took a taxi.”

Maybe your suspicions about them not being codependent were right afterall?

“But anyway I came to check on you before I left for the night.”

“You’re sweet. I was just about to change and leave, too.”

“I’ll wait for you in the lobby,” he says, gesturing back towards the door.

“Uh, sure! I won’t be too long,” you say before turning and walking to the locker room, maybe speedwalking just a tad. For some reason you got the sense he was staring at your ass as you walked but you didn’t dare turn around and look. You dry off and change into your clothes hastily before walking to meet Joel in the lobby, butterflies swelling in your stomach for some reason.

You meet him in the lobby with a big smile on his face, drinking in the sight of you with your flushed and hair wet.

“Get a good workout in?” he asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“I did. It was a lighter workout for me today.”

“That’s nice… Well I’ll see you around?”

“Mind if I walk you home?”

You’re taken aback at first because why would he want to do that? But then age you don’t know the neighborhood that well yet and it is getting dark out. But you also only live two blocks away so what’s the point of him walking you home.

But before you can contemplate it even more you say yes.

And so you’re walking to your apartment side by side, not really saying anything at first until you can’t bear the uncomfortable silence anymore. You make small talk until you reach your building.

“Well, this is me,” you say, stopping in front of the door to your apartment building.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.

“Uhh not much. I have a new bookshelf I’ve been meaning to build since I moved in. Maybe I’ll start that tonight?”

“I can help with that,” he says, taking a step towards you.

You gulp at the idea of Joel Miller alone with you in your apartment. This really isn’t a good idea. But he’s the one who offered. And you can have him leave straight after it’s done.

“S-sure,” you say.

You lead him through the hallways and flights of stairs in your building until you reach your place. You slide the key into the lock and go inside, holding the door open for him as he enters.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I’m still not one hundred percent moved in yet,” you say, feeling a little self conscious at the state of your apartment.

“Nothing to apologize for,” he shrugs, “Now where’s this bookshelf?”

You bring him into your bedroom of all places and point to the flat cardboard box leaning against the wall.

“There. As you can see I haven’t even attempted it.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckles.

You sit on the edge of your bed as he goes to work. You watch him construct your bookshelf little by little before you ask if he needs anything.

“Want a bottle of water?” you ask, rising from the bed.

“Sure,” he says, looking up at you from his position on your floor.

You go into your kitchen and grab a cold bottle of water from your fridge. You go back into your bedroom and crouch down on the floor to hand it to him. And that’s when he locks eyes with you, staring at you intently until his lips suddenly come crashing into yours.

You pull away immediately and shout, “What the hell?! You’re married! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m in an open marriage.”

You raise your eyebrow in disbelief but before you can say anything he speaks first.

“I’m being completely serious,” he says, his big brown eyes pleading with you.

It’s not completely unbelievable. Some of your friends were in open relationships. You yourself have never been in one and you’ve never been with someone that is. But deep down, you want him and he seems sincere.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I just did that. I understand if you want me to leave,” he says, starting to get up.

You sigh.

“No you can stay… but you’re right, that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”

“Does that mean I can do it again?” he whispers, his eyes searching your face for an answer.

You close your eyes and the butterflies swell in your stomach again. Somewhere in your mind there’s a small voice telling you this is a bad idea. But it’s small enough that you ignore it.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He lips meet yours again as he presses you against the edge of your bed. His tongue grazes your lips, begging you for access. And when you give it to him his tongue explores your mouth as his hands caress your face. You kiss him back and slip him a little tongue, too, but it's clear that he wants to be the dominant one. You give in and let him as his mouth, face and hands completely overtake you. He pulls away for a moment and you two look into each other’s eyes. Almost as if you’re reading each other’s minds you both stand up and move to the bed. You lay down and your chlorine crusted hair splays out on the pillow. You silently wish you got to shower and shave before this happened. A sexual encounter with your new acquaintance was not in the plans for tonight.

He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his shorts before hovering over you. You take in the sight of his naked body, tanned skin peppered with beauty marks. His legs are toned and muscular just like the rest of him. But what he does have is a small pudgy belly that maybe doesn’t particularly match the rest of his physique but is still attractive nonetheless. His large hands move up your thigh and underneath your shorts. He slides them off in one fluid motion and moves down to your thighs, spreading them open. He drinks in the sight of your cunt rapidly getting wet in anticipation for his touch. He bends down and licks one long, slow streak up all the way up to your clit. And that’s when you ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t get a chance to shower after swimming…”

“Don’t care,” he murmurs against your core, sending vibrations through you.

You shudder at the sensation and let him continue, relaxing a little. His tongue works small slow circles around your clit as you raise your hips a little, pressing them more on his face in response to his touch. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you even closer into him. With his arms around your thighs you can’t squirm as much but that also lets him press his lips, tongue and nose directly into your cunt, bringing you closer to orgasm. You cum against his face, coating him with your release, soaking his nose, lips, chin… practically the whole lower half of his face. He laps up the rest of your juices before bringing his face by yours.

“You taste so good, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

You feel your cheeks go hot at his praise. He goes to take off his shorts and asks, “Did you want me to use a condom?”

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you say, still feeling a little breathless.

He chuckles at the post orgasm inflection in your voice and says, “Okay, darlin’.”

You spread your legs for him and he gathers your release from your cunt on his fingers. You shudder at the sensation. He slicks his already hard cock and aligns himself with your entrance, thrusting into you slowly until you take all of his length. His hands grasp your waist as he begins to fuck you relentlessly, burying his cock deep into you with each slam of his hips. He showers you in praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock so well. All you can do is moan and whimper in response.

You’re sure your neighbors can hear between the creaks of your bed frame, both of your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. But you’re entirely too blissed out to care. With one last forceful motion of his hips against yours you come undone, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Your orgasm pulsates through your core and sends shockwaves throughout your body. Before both of you know it he’s releasing his load inside you, painting your inside in thick ropes of cum as he lets out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you and immediately starts apologizing but you just laugh.

“That’s what the pill’s for,” you chuckle.

He lays down next to you on the bed and already starts yawning.

“You can crash here if you want,” you say, “But you owe me a finished book shelf in the morning,” you chuckle.

“Whatever you want, darlin’. Tomorrow’s my day off,” he murmurs against you, the sleepiness evident in his voice.

“Deal,” you whisper, before drifting off to sleep yourself.

You wake up the next morning wrapped in bedsheets and the scent of Joel Miller as he sleeps pressed against you. The realization of last night’s decisions is setting in and while the anxiety in your gut rises, something about it also feels so right. You peel yourself off of him and go to the bathroom. He stirs and wakes up watching your naked form from behind as he whistles at the sight.

“Shut up,” you laugh, “Hope you’re ready to build that bookshelf.”

“Oh I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” he says, sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and close your eyes. All of your anxieties and hangs ups about the situation melt away as he holds you in front of your bathroom mirror. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and goes to work on your bookshelf. You make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him after you brush your teeth. He gets the bookshelf done in no time and the two of you are left with the rest of your Saturday, completely free. You decide to take a shower together, washing each other in this new form of intimacy. You realize he doesn’t have any other clothes to change into so that’s when he has the idea to walk back to the Y, pick up his truck and head back to his house. You throw on your clothes and get ready to walk back to his truck, silently hoping the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy this morning. What would people say if they saw you two walking to his truck together? If he’s in an open marriage, though, does it even matter?

Before you leave he says, “You stay here. I’ll come back for you.”

You nod and wait for him in the lobby of your building. He pulls up front and you hop in the passenger seat. Awkward silence fills the drive until you get to his house. He brings you inside and leads you to his bedroom. You look at the pictures of him and Liz while he packs. You’re staring at a wedding photo when you think to ask, “So how long have you been in an open marriage?”

He pauses for a moment and says, “Only about a year. I found out she was cheating on me and I proposed the idea of an open marriage instead of getting a divorce.”

You’re conflicted. You feel bad for him that he went through that but he also seems happy now, content with his decision on an open marriage as far as you can tell.

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That must’ve been really hard for you.”

“It was,” he replies, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “But I’m doing much better now. I don’t tell a lot of people about the open marriage, though. My friends and family still don’t know because it’ll open a whole line of questioning as to how we got here. And then I’ll have to tell them how she cheated on me and I just… I don’t think I can do that.”

He sounds hurt; betrayed. You turn around to face him and meet his eyes, filled with sadness, and say, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing you, “Come on. Let’s go have a fun weekend together. I packed enough clothes to get me to work Monday morning.”

“Okay,” you nod, following him back down the stairs.

At least they don't have kids, you think to yourself. That would make this situation about a million times messier.

You get back his truck and drive back to your place, the tension in the air dissipated after his heartfelt confession. You spend the rest of the weekend together going through a cycle of fucking, watching TV, showering and talking. You learn so much about him and his background; his family, where he grew up, what he does for a living. He tells you everything and you feel you can tell him everything, too. The connection you feel with him is one you’ve never felt with anyone else before. It almost makes you forget for a moment that he’s married to another woman.

But now it’s Monday and your fun weekend with Joel has come to an end. He has two long days at work ahead of him so you can’t go to the Y together until Wednesday night. You’re a little sad but you get it. He can’t spend all of his waking hours with you. The next two days drag on and after you get home from work you find yourself feeling lonely. And it doesn’t help that your sheets smell like him.

But after two agonizingly slow days you finally get to see him again. You walk to the Y with a little pep in your step at the thought of seeing him again. You find him in the lobby and he greets you with a smile.

“I thought I’d swim with you today instead,” he says.

“Sure,” you tell him before both of you walk to the pool room together, separating as each of you enter your respective locker rooms. You change quickly and meet him by the pool which by some miracle was completely empty tonight. You get in the pool with him and swim a few laps but mainly the two of you spend time messing around. Until he pulls you close and looks you in the eye. The heat of the pool room and his hot breath are almost too much to bear. But then he kisses you and suddenly you forget all about how you are. The kiss grows more and more passionate and you start to worry that someone will walk in and see. You pull away to tell him to stop but he grabs your hand and leads up the pool steps.

“What are you doing?” you ask as your bare feet hit the slick tile.

“Going somewhere more private,” he says leading you to the single stall bathroom on the same wall as the locker rooms.

“Here?” you question him.

“Why not? It’s empty tonight,” he says, opening the bathroom door, “Ladies first.”

You go in the bathroom and he follows you, locking the door behind him. He wastes no time reaching for the strap of your swimsuit and peeling it off of you. He slides off his swim trunks and you bring your hand to his cock, caressing it lightly to tease him.

“You’re killin’ me, darlin’. Please,” he whispers by your ear.

You giggle and give into him, wrapping as much of your hand as you can around his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure.

You love making him feel good and you especially love when he vocalizes it. You spit in your hand and stroke him more, picking up the pace. But before he can finish he stops you and licks his fingers, bringing them to the entrance of your cunt and teasing you this time. You whine at the featherlight touch and beg for more.

“Doesn’t feel so good huh darlin’?” he teases.

“Please,” you whine.

“Fine,” he sighs, sounding fake annoyed before pushing a finger into you slowly.

You lean back against the sink and spread your legs wider for him, begging for more. He gets off on watching you writhe in pleasure from just one finger before slipping in another. He curls them upwards, emitting soft moans from you as he brings you closer to the edge. But before you can cum he pulls them out of you and slathers his cock with your wetness. You whine at the sudden absence but you’re cut off by the sensation of his cock slamming into you. Your breath hitches and he watches you get adjusted to his size, eyes scanning up and down your body from your face to your tits to your cunt gripping his cock. He supports you against the edge of the sink and pumps into you with more force. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with every slam of his hips. You know you’re not going to last long between that and the adrenaline of fucking in a public space. Your orgasm washes over you as your cunt grips and releases his cock like a vice. He releases his load into you and you’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum coating your insides. He pulls out of you and places a sloppy kiss on your lips before whispering, “Good girl.”

He helps you stand on your feet and you both go to put your swimsuits back on.

“I’ll go first, okay?” he says.

You nod and he swiftly leaves the bathroom, locking the door behind him. You wait a few minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to a thankfully empty pool room.

“Change and go home?” he says, looking over at you.

You nod and go into the locker room to change, in disbelief that this is your life and that Joel Miller just fucked you in a bathroom at the Y. This would become your routine for the next two weeks until Liz comes home, fucking at the Y, your place and even his. Something about doing it as his house felt slightly wrong though. And you know exactly why but you choose to bury that feeling.

It’s the night before Liz comes home from her work trip and you’re at your apartment, spending one last night together until he has to go home to his wife.

“When will we do this again?” you ask hopefully.

“I’ll let you know when, darlin’,” he says with the gentlest tone.

You nod and your stomach starts to hurt, worrying at the possibility that this was it for the two of you.

Liz is officially home and you’ll see her at the pool tonight. You have mixed feelings about it. Two weeks ago you would’ve been excited to reunite with your new friend. But now after learning everything you know you’re not sure about how you feel about her.

You walk to the Y and your legs feel like jelly. You’re also nervous to face her again after everything that happened with you and Joel and it makes you wonder… Did he tell her about the two of you? Is he planning on it if he hasn’t already? Regardless, you're not going to be the one to tell her. He’s the one married to her; he can do it himself.

She greets you with a warm smile in the locker room, commenting about how she was in need of a good workout. You just smile and nod, for fear that if you open your mouth you’re going to spill everything to her.

You swim together and keep the conversation mainly about her work trip. She tells you she has to go on another one in two weeks and you fear that that will be the next time Joel will want you.

You finish your laps and change in the locker room before meeting Joel in the lobby. He treats you differently around her, like he did when you first met him two weeks ago. You watch them walk to their separate cars before walking home. The realization hits you on the way back. He’s not going to be yours for at least two weeks.

You were correct in your assumption. The second Liz leaves he’s calling you up, asking if he can come over. And you give in without thinking.

You open your door when he arrives and let him in before asking, “How long is she gone this time?”

“Just a week,” he says softly.

Before the mood can shift into a more depressing tone he wraps his arms around you and presses wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. You missed him too much to care about how upset you are deep down, letting him take you again tonight.

You go into your bedroom and he pushes you down onto the bed. He pulls off your shorts and he spreads your thighs apart.

“God, I missed this so much,” he says before bringing his tongue to your core.

You close your eyes and grips the sheets for purchases as his tongue works your cunt. He pulls one orgasm out of you quickly and already begins working on the second. He slicks his fingers and inserts them into you slowly before returning his tongue to your clit. It’s almost to the point of overstimulation until your second orgasm washes over you. You coat the lower half of his face and his hand all the way down to his wrist with your release. He lays on the bed next to you as your thighs continue to shiver from the aftershocks of your high. You go to reach for the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.

“Tonight’s just you darlin’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm. Missed you so much.”

You kiss his cheek and fall into the crook of his neck. He rubs your back as you two catch up, telling each other about the past two weeks without one another. You missed him so much and the voice in your head is small enough to ignore it again.

And this becomes your routine for the summer. Whenever Liz is away Joel is yours. Sometimes she’s gone for a couple weeks at a time. Sometimes it’s just a few days. She’s also not always going away for work either. Joel tells you she visits her boyfriend, too. Which in return makes you less guilty about your situation with Joel. But you also feel weird about becoming her friend so you keep her at an arm’s length, beget letting the friendship transcending past the Y. You’ve made other friends in the process, though, upstairs in the gym. You use the gym on the days you know for sure that he won’t be there, usually Mondays and Tuesdays.

One day as you’re on the elliptical a girl named Julien strikes up a conversation with you. She’s a year older than you and she introduces you to her girlfriend, Angela. Another day when you’re using the pool, you meet an older woman, old enough to be your grandmother, named Agnes. She does water aerobics to keep herself active in her older age. She tells you that you remind her of her granddaughter. She’s one of your favorite people to spend time with. Another day as you’re walking through the lobby as you’re leaving you accidentally bump into a woman named Marina. She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Sometimes you’ll join her for happy hour after work. Even if you’re in a messy situation with Joel you’re glad that you finally have a small cluster of friends. But the thing is… They’re all close to Liz in some way. Marina went to the same sorority as Liz. Agnes’s husband worked with Liz’s father. And Julien is Liz’s cousin. None of them have mentioned anything about Liz and Joel being in an open marriage. But then you think back to what Joel said; about keeping it on the down low and that quells your anxieties… for now.

This routine brings you all the way to the start of fall. Joel’s birthday passes and Liz is home for that, meaning you can’t celebrate with him until her next work trip in a few days. She’ll be gone for five days this time.

He wants you to stay with him while she’s gone and you reluctantly agree. You’ve never spent more than one night at his place. But the truth is… you’ve fallen in love with him. And you would do anything to make him happy.

You pack your bag and he picks you up at your apartment. The drive to his place is tense and the tension follows you all the way up to his bedroom where it finally dissipates.

You push him down onto the edge of the bed for him to sit. You slide his pants down where you see his cock pitching a tent in his boxers, a dark spot forming where the pre cum is leaking. You pull down his boxers and waste no time taking him in your mouth as far as he can go. Your hand wraps around the part you can’t fit. You swirl your tongue around his head and your other hand goes to cup his balls. You want to suck him until completion but he has other plans. He pulls you up his face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss before falling onto his back. And you know exactly what he wants. You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, straddling him until you sink onto his cock. Both of you sigh at the sensation and you begin to rock your hips against him. His cock is buried deep inside you and with every motion of your hips it hits you at the perfect angle. Your hands are flat on his chest and his hands grip your waist, squeezing you until you cum around him, soaking his cock and groin with your wet release. You’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum spilling into you before you hop off of him and lay down beside him.

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head.

You’ve never been with someone that made you feel so loved and valued like Joel has. And that’s what breaks your heart the most. This is the greatest love you’ve ever known and he’s married to someone else.

You fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up the next morning to go to the Y. You tell him to drop you off at your place so you can walk there, so it doesn’t look suspicious. But he doesn’t care. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Someone is going to catch you two together and you know it. And it begs the question… is it really an open marriage if he has to hide you from everyone in his life? That thought has crossed your mind before, of course. But you’ve been able to bury that feeling down… until now.

He pulls into the parking lot and you scan it for anyone you may know. But that’s pointless. Everyone here knows Joel and Liz are married.

You get out of the truck the whole walk to the front door your head is spinning in different directions in paranoia. Joel brings a hand to the small of your back as you walk in. The automatic doors slide open and you see no one you know fortunately.

You go to the pool together and walk to the locker rooms, there’s small clusters of people spread about but again no one you know. You get changed in the women’s locker room and your paranoia worsens. You step back out to the pool room and your ears start ringing. You’re on the brink of a panic attack. Joel takes one look at you and immediately knows something’s up. He pulls you into the single stall bathroom that you’ve fucked dozens of times in and caresses your face. He doesn’t have to say anything. He knows you’re not doing well and all he can do is hold you. Just when you think you’re about to calm down the door opens. He forgot to lock it. And you see none other than Julien staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. She doesn’t know what to do for a moment and you’re both staring back at her while she stares at you. You feel like you’re gonna throw up. Suddenly she turns on her heel and bolts. Without thinking you follow her and she goes all the way to the parking lot. She stops and turns to face you, tears springing in her eyes.

“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she says.

What did she mean by that? Were guys suspected of being involved? Were you guys not careful enough?

“I… You don’t understand. He told me they’re in an open marriage. I never would’ve…” you trail off, but you can’t lie to her.

She scoffs and says, “Did you really fall for that? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid. He’s already cheated on Liz once and that was his lie the first time.”

You feel complete panic overtake you in its purest form. Everything you’ve built, every friendship you made feels like it’s all coming crashing down on you.

She goes to leave and you go to follow her again before she turns and snaps at you, “Don’t!”

You watch her get in her car and drive off and you’re left in the parking lot, completely dumbfounded.

You go back inside as you start profusely sobbing, trying to make it back to the locker room with your head down. You feel like everyone is staring at you; like you have a million eyes all hyper focused on you. You don’t see Joel when you return to the pool room but in all honesty he’s the last person you want to see right now. You hastily change in the locker room and go to leave the pool room and that’s when you spot Agnes in the shallow end. She doesn’t even have to say anything, she has the most disappointed look on her face. Tears sting your eyes once again and you practically run out of there and into the parking lot. You stop for a moment to catch your breath before taking off down the street towards home. You reach your door and your hands are shaking as you insert the key. You fall into your apartment and collapse onto the floor. The shock and betrayal you feel right now is indescribable; it’s a pain you’ve never known before. You lost the person you love and all of the friends you’ve made. All of it slipped away from you right before your eyes.

Not only are you feeling betrayed, you’re also feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. You gave him the greatest love you’ve ever given another person and it was all built on lies. And you feel stupid for falling for those lies.

You hear your door open but you don’t bother to look up. You know it’s Joel but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He collapses on the floor and pulls you into him. But you’re falling apart in his arms. He’s holding you like you’re going to slip away from him; like you’re water in his hands and he can’t keep you whole. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you can feel him crying against you, too.

Somewhere inside you you know that he never understood the love you gave him. He’s crying but he doesn’t understand why.

To you, your love was your greatest gift to him. But to Joel, it was anything but.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction

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drchucktingle · 2 years ago

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mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

#love is real #autistic #tingleverse

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stardewremixed · 5 months ago

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Why does the Mayor send Robin to greet you at the Bus stop? What is he so busy doing that he can't be there right away? How would the Opening Scene play differently if another Stardew townie greeted you? What housewarming gifts/ advantages would you gain from someone else? Here are my little headcanons.

Marnie - she's the Mayor's secret girlfriend. Maybe he doesn't want to risk exposing this to the new farmer. However, I think it would be cute if you had a dog or a cat from Day 1 thanks to Marnie pointing out that the farm would be a great place for them to run around.

Caroline- She would encourage you to shop at her husband's store. An invite to her Tuesday aerobics class would be nice.

Pierre - He's a busy man running his store, but he might offer you extra seeds.

Demetrius - He would awkwardly show you around, and you'd have access to the farm cave on day 1 if you accept his offer to study the local bat population.

Robin - she's the vanilla choice but I'd like to think she gives you a storage chest.

Linus - the mountain man is shy but he is curious about the new farmer. He would bring some wild forage.

Marlon - Ah! The new adventurer! A rusty sword seems like the kind of welcome gift he would offer. (You don't gain access to the mines but monsters might spawn on the first night on the farm).

Gus - ah! A new farmer! This man is kindly bringing you a hot meal.

Evelyn and George - He would be like 'dagnabbit! Dragged me out here woman!' He can't exactly roll around easily on the farmland. She would be happy to make your acquaintance (and bring cookies, of course). George might give you a leek from Ev's garden.

Pam - She's driving the bus, right? She would mention it's normal for the mayor to run late. Let's crack open a pale ale.

Clint - Errr... hi... here is a sprinkler for your farm. (Makes a quick exit). (Or maybe an upgraded watering can).

Gunther - ah yes! Please help us replenish our museum. It is in a sad state. Here is a library card and a book about the history of the Valley.

Willy - Day 1 fishing pole! Oh yeah! (Super useful for the riverlands farm). If you're on another farm type, maybe just a fish).

Wizard - He finds you very... curious... and gives you the ability to understand Junimos (except who are they?). He smiles and says you will understand in time. And poufs! Where did he go?

Morris- beats Lewis to the bus stop, just barely and is out of breath. He gives you the Joja pitch early (and for today only, a discount if you buy a membership) but you wouldn't sell out, would you?

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sonofarathorn · 2 years ago

Text

2 A.M.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut (18+). Friends With Benefits. Oral Sex (m + f receiving). 69ing. Brief Assplay.

All mistakes are me own. Comments/reblogs are appreciated!!

You swore you were done with this. Done waiting for flirty 2 a.m. texts. Done with hastily packed duffle bags and sweaty trysts in wrinkled sheets. Done with walks of shame the next morning, the delicious ache between your thighs a reminder of all the dirty things you’d gotten up to in the past few hours.

Though, it can’t really be called a walk of shame if it felt so good, and you weren’t really ashamed, can it? And it did feel good to see your phone light up well past midnight with a corny text from Rooster.

Bradley.

The message from him lights up your bedroom now. Casts the room in a soft blue glow. You swipe open your phone, thumb hovering over the screen as you formulate a response.

You up? It reads.

You roll your eyes. Those college tendencies had still not left him, even though he was 5 years removed from the Naval Academy, and considered one of the best pilots in the country. Hell, he’d flown an incredibly dangerous mission six months ago, and was still sending You up? texts.

Typical Bradley.

Maybe that’s part of his charm. The boyish air about him. Youthful confidence that borders slightly on cockiness. It reminded you of old times. Sneaking in and out of dorm rooms before the sun rose, quickies in-between classes. Cheap beer and dim, crowded basements.

Maybe it’s the freedom and the mystery that draws you back to him. Rooster throws himself back into the orbit of your life every three months or so without warning. You fuck round for a couple weeks, and then he disappears into whatever Navy void he came from until the next time he swings back around. Like a horny comet.

No feelings. No strings. Just the best sex you’ve ever had in your life…followed by the worst dry spell of your life. And a strange empty ache. You’d never admit it to his face– don’t want to inflate his ego anymore–but Bradley might have ruined other men for you.

At least, that’s what you think now. Fresh off of involuntary abstinence and a super disappointing fuck.

And so, even though you swore to yourself you’d be done with all this, you send a quick response.

Yes :)

* * *

Bradley’s neighborhood is nice. A quiet line of almost identical brown townhouses with immaculate yards. Must be military. That would explain the harsh conformity, and the high concentration of American flags on the porches.

All of the houses’ windows are dark, except for the one your car rolls to a stop in front of.

Bradley throws the door open and pulls you inside before you can even knock.

“Someone’s eager,” you tease, as you're crowded back against the door.

Bradley’s hands come to rest on either side of your head. “No time like the present.” His soft brown eyes are full of mirth.

He looks the same as he did a couple months ago. Same bright eyes and easygoing smile. It brings faint laugh lines to the surface of his freckled skin. He’s only wearing a pair of grey sweats, so the vast expanse of his body is laid bare before you. Your gaze traces the planes of tanned skin, from the solid muscle of his arms, to his chest and then down to the waistband that hangs low across his hips.

“Like what you see?” Bradley ticks an eyebrow upwards.

You roll your eyes, but you’d be a liar if you said otherwise. “Jesus you’re a walking cliche. You’re one ‘Come here often?’ away from a free membership to the Corny Club.” With great effort, you drag your gaze up from the glaringly obvious bulge at Bradley’s crotch, to his shining eyes.

“Baby, I’m already a card-carrying member.” He leans in closer, and you catch a whiff of his body wash. “That’s my most effective pick up line.”

Vanilla and Sandalwood. The reaction is immediate, you want to bury your nose into his neck and breathe him in deeper.

You suck in a deep breath. “Does it work?”

“You tell me,” Bradley whispers.

His parted lips brush yours, a teasing, barely-there kiss. You lean forward, chasing the touch of his mouth, but Bradley leans away, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Now who’s eager?” He teases.

You ignore him, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him back to you. You had no problem going after what you wanted, something Bradley really liked about you. You thread your fingers through his hair and mold your lips to his.

Bradley presses a hot groan into your mouth. His tongue licks against yours, testing the waters. He meets no resistance. In fact, you almost whimper, body melting against his. You feel the heat of his body against yours, even through the fabric of your t-shirt. It leaves your skin prickly, your nerves singed.

One of his large hands leaves the door, and slides down the curve of your spine. His fingers slide over the waistband of your shorts, grabbing at your ass and trapping you against his body. Instinctively, you rock your hips against the thigh he’s placed between your legs.

Funny how well the two of you meshed together, even after months apart.

The back of your head hits the door, a quiet moan falling from your lips at the sweet pressure. Bradley’s lips leave yours to trace open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. He guides the greedy grind of your hips at a nearly torturous pace.

“Fuck,” you whine when he nips at your pulse. You use the grip on his shoulders as leverage to get a better angle.

Bradley watches you, eyes alight with amusement. “It’s that easy, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groan. Your clit catches on the crease of his sweatpants so well, reducing you to a puddle. It’s good. It’s great even. But it’s not enough.

“Nearly drooling for it,” he whispers. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

The answer? It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve had good sex. Actually, if you had to actually count, it would be 137 days exactly: the last time Bradley was stateside. There was that guy from a few weeks back, but he’d jackhammered his way home in 3 minutes– a personal record even for bad lays– and hung you out to dry. You’d left that encounter missing Bradley more than ever. Even entertained the idea of sending him a text just in case he was back home.

“I said shut the fuck up.” You tug his bottom lip between your teeth and pull.

Bradley moans, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. You smile victoriously, digging your teeth in a little harsher before letting go. Bradley’s eyes meet yours, widening a bit as his tongue traces over the indent your bite had left behind.

His cheeks flush a ruddy red, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. “Shit,” he mumbles, and surges forward to kiss you again.

Bradley’s everywhere. He pins your body back against the door. His lips slide over yours hungrily. Tongue pressing into your mouth as if he’s trying to bury himself inside of you. He rucks your shirt up to palm your breast. He squeezes, pinching your nipple between his middle and forefinger. The pain, the pleasure of it all almost makes you dizzy.

Brain foggy, and body keyed up to 11, you pull away from him. “Bradley,” you sigh, blinking rapidly as the world comes back into focus.

Bradley noses at the underside of your jaw. “Mmm?” He presses soft kisses to your neck.

“We gonna take this to the bed? Or did you wanna fuck me up against the door?”

He pretends to think about it for a moment. “Dunno. Door has its merits. I don’t have to move. And I can do this.” He shifts, rolling his thigh against your clit.

A moan tumbles clumsily from your lips. “You can do that on the bed, and it gives us more room.”

“Room to do what?”

You tilt your head to whisper in his ear. “I could suck your dick...”

Bradley chuckles. “You could do that here.”

“I could suck your dick while you eat me out.” You bite your bottom lip.

He pauses. A grin spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes. “Now that is a convincing argument.”

“Yeah?” Your answering smile is just as wide.

“Uh huh.” Bradley frees himself from your grip and takes a step back. He hooks a finger into the front of your shorts and tugs forward. “Just don’t come too early.”

“Me?” You scoff, letting yourself be pulled forward. “What makes you think I’d do that?”

“Yeah, you.” He guides you back through the townhouse with ease. “You just got finished humping me against the door.”

“Weren’t you the one who pinned me to the door as soon as I walked in?”

Bradley pushes the door to his room open and flicks on the light. “So?”

“So, you’re just as riled up as me.” You lick your bottom lip. “If anything, you should be worried about…premature completion,” you finish awkwardly.

Bradley tosses his head back and laughs. A deep, belly-aching guffaw. The rich baritone notes bounce off of the walls of his small bedroom. Warmth bursts in your chest and your heart leaps, in spite of the fact that you’re the source of his laughter. It’s infectious, bubbling up inside of you until it slips through the cracks of your smile, and pretty soon peals of your own laughter twine with his.

“‘Premature completion?’” He gasps, holding a hand to his chest.

You punch his shoulder lightly. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry.” Bradley makes a show of wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes. “It’s just such a funny way of putting it.”

“Rooster,” you snap.

He presses his lips together and makes an attempt at a somewhat serious face. It lasts all of three seconds before he’s laughing again.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Well not all of us are as crass as you and your Navy buddies.”

“Sorry. It just makes ya sound like a science textbook.”

“Fuck off.” You roll your eyes.

Bradley’s laughter turns to quiet chuckles. “Okay, okay. No need to get so feisty. Even though I love it when you do.” He pulls you close and loops an arm around your waist. “I believe you were gonna show me the merits of a bed.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Now who sounds like a textbook?” Your finger traces over his lower stomach.

“Still you,” he answers cheekily.

You ignore his gentle ribbing. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“You’re wearing more than I am.” He tugs at the waistband of your shorts.

“Then you should fix that,” you say coyly.

Bradley smirks. “I will.” He sits on his bed and beckons you forward.

You move to stand between his spread legs and rest your hands on his shoulder. You’re immediately glad that you did, as Bradley’s lips latch onto your peaked nipple and suck on it through the fabric of your tank top.

“No bra.” He mumbles against the growing wet patch. He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

You shake your head. “It’d just get in the way.”

He hums under his breath. “It would.” His teeth tease your breast, skating over the sensitive skin. Bradley pulls your tank top down and switches to the other breast. His fingers lightly pinch and roll the nipple he’s not currently sucking on.

You moan quietly, and slide your fingers into his loose curls. Bradley doesn’t need much encouragement. He’s greedy, eager. His lips smack against your breast, hot tongue sweeping out to taste your skin. Your knees grow weaker with each passing moment. Each swipe of his tongue. Each of his wrecked groans.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, burying his face into your chest and inhaling the scent of you. Jasmine and ginger. Your body is so fucking warm it drives him crazy. His dick hardens in his sweatpants. His pulse thuds loudly in his ears. He wants to be inside you. Needs it like he needs air.

It’s been too long since he had you like this. Willing and pliant under his touch. Bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he touched you. Bradley’s lost count of how many times he’s gotten off to the thought of this moment. Memories he’d replayed over and over in his head as he stroked his cock. The echo of your soft cries in his ears as he came all over his hand.

This, the real thing, puts all his daydreams to shame.

Bradley’s unoccupied hand slowly slides up your inner thigh. His thumb flicks under your shorts, and he chokes when he meets, not the pesky lace he was expecting, but the softness of your wet pussy.

“Jesus.” He inhales sharply. “No panties either?”

You shrug, hoping to come off as nonchalant, even though your heart thuds in your chest. “They’d just end up on the floor.”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He looks up at you, umber eyes eclipsed completely by desire.

“I’m trying to fuck you,” you remind him. And then, growing impatient, you push him backwards onto the bed. “You’re always getting distracted,” you chide playfully, and pull your tank top over your head. “It’s a miracle you’ve managed to keep your plane up in the sky this long.” Your shorts are quick to join your top on the ground.

Bradley grins up at you. “They don’t have distractions like you up in the sky. And it’s a good thing they don’t.” His dark eyes roam your body. “C’mere.”

“Yes, sir!” You give him a mock salute and he rolls his eyes.

The annoyed look melts away when you climb onto his lap. It turns into slack-jawed reverence when you grind your down against the obvious erection Bradley sports. His fingers grip your hips and he holds you tighter against him as he rocks up to meet you. A sweet groan escapes his parted lips.

“I think,” you begin, walking your fingers up Bradley’s chest, “that I could make you come before you could make me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Trying to bait me into a bet? Us aviator’s don’t go down easy.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. And if I win, you have to,” you pause for dramatic effect, “let me be in charge the next time we see each other.”

“Done.” He cocks his head to the side, that signature boyish grin etching dimples into his cheeks. “What if you don’t? What do I get if I make you come first?”

“Well name your stakes, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

“When I win–”

“If.”

“When I win…” Bradley thinks for a moment, and then bashfulness flits across his face. “You have to let me take you out one night. And not to the Hard Deck either. Somewhere nice.”

“Take me out? Like on a date?” You ask and he nods. Your breath catches in your throat.

That’s not what this was. This was casual. A 2 a.m. text. Flirtatious banter. Sex to scratch an itch and a See you next time. Not expectations or permanence. Not dinner and a night on the town.

Then again…Bradley’s a good guy. He’s sweet, definitely easy on the eyes. He takes care of you in his own way. Makes you laugh until you cry, and you genuinely like being around him. Plus, he fucks you like none other. Can make you see stars with just his fingers and tongue. You can’t say that for most of the other guys you’ve been with before him or since.

Would one date be so bad? It was just dinner, not a marriage proposal. Who knows, maybe something good could come out of it. Or, if it was terribly awkward, you two could just pretend it never even happened in the first place.

You must hesitate too long, because Bradley shakes his head. “Forget it. I’ll do something else.”

“No, wait.” You smile, and his expression lightens. “I’ll go out with you, Bradley.” You lean forward and kiss him sweetly. “But you gotta earn it first.”

A steely resolve settles over his face. Bradley cups your jaw, before you can pull away and slots his lips against yours. He moans into your mouth as his tongue licks against your bottom lip. You surge forward, opening yourself up to him, getting drunk on his kiss. It’s a messy, desperate clash of lips and teeth. Battling tongues and noses that bump against each other with the desire for more, more, more.

More skin. More friction. More of each other.

His large hand slides down your spine and squeezes your ass, rocking your hips against his crotch. You sigh at the sweet friction of your clit against his sweatpants. His cock, hard and pressed against your inner thigh, makes something heavy pool in your belly. It’s not long before your lips are moving down his body in search of it.

You press open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck and torso. Bradley groans above you, his hand pressing against the back of your head, and you can’t tell if he’s pushing you lower or trying to get your mouth back on his. Still, your lips continue their trek lower, over the planes of his stomach, to the carved lines of his hips.

You run the tip of your tongue over the muscles that lead to his cock. The choked moan he lets out has you clenching your thighs as your clit throbs. You only get his sweatpants down a little more to kiss the top of his thighs, when the hand on your neck squeezes.

“Wait,” Bradley chokes out.

You look up at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Yes?”

“You’re cheating,” he says, chest heaving.

You sit up and tug his sweats down his legs. “If all it takes is a few kisses to make you come, this is gonna be easier than I thought.”

“You’re gonna need the head start.” He winks and taps his chin. “Get your ass up here.”

You raise up on your knees and turn slowly, wiggling your hips as you position yourself slowly. “Having second thoughts?”

Bradley’s hand lands on your butt sharply. “Not a chance. I’m taking you to dinner.” He rubs the sting away with his large palm. “Fucking beautiful.” He pulls you right over his face.

You hum, and wrap your hand around his stiff cock, feeling the weight of him in your palm. His breath hits your cunt in wrecked gasps, making you shudder. Under normal circumstances, you’d stroke him slowly, relishing his quiet groans. Watching his sanity slowly slip away. Teasing him until he got impatient and either begged for you or took matters into his own hands.

But these are not normal circumstances. You have a job to do.

You lean forward, mouthing at the base of Bradley’s cock. You run your tongue over every ridge and vein, from top to bottom.

“Shit.” Bradley moans. “Fuck, that’s it.”

This’ll be a piece of cake. With the way he’s moaning under you, Bradley will be coming in no time. You’ve got him hook, line and sinker. You can almost taste the sweet victory…and then Bradley recovers from the shock.

He pulls your hips down onto his face and slowly drags the tip of his tongue from your clit to your entrance and back again. He hums at the taste of you, wrapping his lips around your clit and working at the nerves with a flat tongue. You can’t help it. You moan lowly, and rock your hips down onto his chin–all thoughts of the bet wiped clean from your mind.

“Bradley,” you whine and drop your forehead against his thigh.

Electricity races up your spine and you shudder. It’s almost overwhelming. Bradley knows your body too well. Knows all the things that have you careening towards the edge already. It’s embarrassing how worked up you are. Your toes curl against the pillows, and you try to will yourself to get a grip. At the very least, to stop helping him win. You swear you can almost feel his cocky grin against you.

You might have bitten off more than you can chew.

Bradley chuckles, and it snaps you back to reality. You won’t go down without a fight.

You wrap your lips around his cock, matching the fervor with which his lips move against your cunt. You swallow him down, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your hand glides over his cock easily, aided by the mess of your saliva.

His chuckles turn into a moan. You’re not out of this just yet.

It’s a desperate race. Hot and sticky. Fueled by desire and broken moans. Your bodies writhe against each other, hips lifting and pushing, seeking the warm embrace of lips and spit. Muffled groans and smacking sounds fill the room.

But it can’t last forever, and you won’t last much longer.

You let his cock slip from your mouth and kiss down the shaft. Your hand keeps its steady rhythm, even as Bradley presses a finger into your entrance. Your lips travel over his thighs, teeth digging little marks into his skin. Then, slowly, gently, you suck on his balls.

Bradley loses it. His hips buck up into your hand. He groans and pulls away to bite out a curse. Jesus. His head spins, and he swears he feels his soul leave his body for a moment. He breathes harshly through his nose, steadying himself. In. Out. In. Out. And then a second finger joins the first thrusting into you, and his tongue swirls around your clit once more.

Your legs begin to tremble around his head, the tell tale sign of your orgasm. Holding yourself up has become a chore, and Bradley doesn’t let up. Determined to make you come. Determined to get that first date. But you’re just as determined to bring him to the edge with you.

He takes one of his fingers, slick from the warmth of your dripping pussy, and teases your ass. Pressing the digit into you just slightly. At the same time, Bradley slurps your clit back into his mouth. The combination is lethal, and it’s the breaking point.

You come with a cry that’s muffled by Bradley’s thigh. You rock your hips against his face wantonly as the embers turn into a wildfire. Bradley groans as you explode on his tongue. He works you through it, greedily kissing your clit while his fingers still fuck into you. Licking and sucking at your cunt until you’re an overstimulated puddle. Only then does he pull away with a filthy pop, and a harsh smack to your ass.

You collapse onto the bed beside Bradley, and stare up at the ceiling. “Wow.” You can’t even be upset about losing, fucked out and sated as you are.

You wait for the inevitable teasing, but it never comes. Instead, Bradley kisses your ankle, and rubs his thumb over your knee. Content to sit here with you in comfortable silence until your breathing has settled.

When the rise and fall of your chest has finally begun to steady, Bradley breaks the silence, propping himself up on his elbows to grin at you. “Best two out of three?”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #tgm #top gun:maverick #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw

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catierambles · 6 months ago

Text

Alternate Instincts Ch.23

I deleted the first posting of this because I forgot Ch.22 and didn't want it to be out of order in the tag on my page. Chapter 22 has been posted btw

The move went relatively smoothly, Walter and Stephanie throwing out Frank’s old mattress and replacing it with his from the cabin. Other than that, he really didn’t have a lot of things that needed to be moved over. Sy would be living part time in Stephanie’s old apartment as it was technically his territory now, rotating spending a couple weeks there and a couple weeks in the cabin. The transition also went mostly well, the rest of the pack being understandably wary about being under the control of another male Alpha, but Mike assuaged their concerns telling them that Sy was not like Frank, not even remotely.

Sy had cleaned Frank out, taking almost all of the money in both his checking and savings. It wasn’t nearly the amount that he had originally taken from the pack, as he had blown most of it on high end electronics and other luxuries for himself, but banking information was taken down and what was left was divided up among the pack. Didn’t amount to much, in the end, but it was something and they could start to rebuild. Stephanie offered the use of her Costco membership card once they had a good buffer so they could get bulk essentials somewhere down the line.

Walter let her know that they had also “convinced” him to confess to the Council what he had been doing, and that Frank was now blacklisted from ever running a pack or owning territory. He would be set up with employment and a place to live in his hometown, his wages being garnished until the books were even, but then he was on his own. Sink or swim. Oddly enough, Stephanie and the others couldn’t bring themselves to care what ultimately became of him. Imagine that.

Stephanie lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Walter was sound asleep next to her, but she was wide awake. She could blame it on the new environment, different mattress, different sounds, but she knew it wasn't that. Everything was a little too...perfect. The guys were a little too...everything. Yes, August had his moments, but they were all a little too understanding, too supportive. It didn't feel real. It felt as if she were perpetually waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, or the sword to fall. Waiting for them to decide she wasn't what they wanted, that they were wrong about her being their Mate. They were mistaken, that this "shadow" inside her only made them think she was their Mate. Waiting for them to realize they didn't love her, not really, not truly.

Was it nice being with them? Understatement. They were incredible, even when August was being a donkey. Who would hurt her first, she wondered. August immediately came to mind, how they clashed at times when her mouth got away from her. No, not him. She’d see it coming with him. Sy? Maybe not intentionally. Mike seemed more the “hurt verbally not physically” type. Walter? He would need to be pushed. Geralt. Probably Geralt. He was too glacially calm all the time, his face nearly always an impassive mask, but he was capable of violence. He was a Tracker, he killed Ferals for a living. He’d snap, that glacial calm evaporating and then...

She sighed, running a hand over her face. She loved them, and they loved her, or so they said, but Jordan told her he loved her and that didn’t stop him.

But he’s a Feral. Said the voice of reason, but it was being drowned out by the voice telling her to run before they hurt her.

Walter turned over to face her, pulling her into his arms sleepily and burying his face in her neck.

“Love you.” He said and she felt like crying. Tears actually did sting her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to clear them. He must have felt something in the way she clung to him because his eyes opened, focusing on her in concern. “Love?”

“Please don’t be like him.” She nearly begged it and she watched his heart break just a little bit.

“Never.” He said, his hand coming up to hold the side of her jaw as he leaned in to kiss her. "Not ever." He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed tight as she sobbed quietly.

Walter left her sleeping the next morning, easing the bedroom door closed as he dug his phone out of his sleep pants pocket, heading into the kitchen as he selected a contact.

“Yeah Walt.” Sy said when he picked up.

“Are the others there?” He asked and there was a pause.

“You’re on speaker.” Sy said.

“Steph, she—” He sighed, “She did a threat assessment on us last night. She told me after I got her through a panic attack.”

“She what?” Mike asked.

“Shit.” Sy sighed, “Who was at the top of the list?”

“Geralt.”

“What?” Geralt asked.

“August she would see it coming, be able to de-escalate before it got that far. Mike, you wouldn’t hurt her physically, but you would tear her down mentally.”

“No I wouldn’t!”

“Abuse response, Mikey, don’t take it personal.” Sy said.

“Markus, you and I would only after a lengthy argument.”

“Why me?” Geralt asked, his tone controlled.

“Because you’re calm.” Walter said, “And you would be calm until—”

“Until I wasn’t.” He finished.

“Yeah.” Walter said and Geralt gave a growling sigh.

“Fuck.” He said.

“I’m going to kill him.” August said, “Council wants him alive, but I don’t fucking care what they want. He dies next time he shows his face.”

“Get in line.” Geralt said.

“Haven’t we been—” Mike started. “I mean, things have been good, yeah?”

“Mike, I can fuckin’ promise you things were good with Lewis, too, in the beginning.” Sy said.

“And then they weren’t.” Mike said, “Shit. I need to go over there. I need to see her.”

“She’s still asleep.” Walter said.

“We’re comin’ over.” Sy said, “See you in a bit.” The call ended and Walter sighed, running his fingers through his curls before heading back into the bedroom. Sliding back into bed, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his face in her shoulder.

“Morning.” She said blearily.

“Morning.” He mumbled in return, “The others are on their way.”

“Okay.” She said, laying her hands on his arms. “You’re warm.”

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked but she shook her head.

"Not hungry." She said, "Just tired."

"Get some rest then, love."

Stephanie didn't know when she had drifted off again, but when she woke next, Geralt was in bed with her, holding her in his arms, his fingers running gently through her hair.

"Hey." She said and his lips pressed to her forehead.

"Never." He said, "Never hurt you."

"I know." She said simply, "It's just..."

"I understand." He said, "Sleep."

She drifted in and out of awake and asleep all day, and whenever she woke, someone different was in bed with her. To their credit, they didn't make moves on her, knowing that now was definitely not the time.

It was night when she woke again, Sy asleep next to her, his face half buried in the pillow as he lay on his stomach. She watched him for a bit before getting up gently, sliding out of bed and heading to the attached bathroom. Coming back out, she left the bedroom, the TV on in the dark living room but at a low volume. They were asleep, sprawled out on the floor or the couch, curled up in the recliner, the screen casting odd shadows on their faces as the images flickered across it. Take out containers, Chinese food, littered the living room and kitchen. Fried rice, lo mein, a couple different variations of chicken. There was an untouched container of chicken and mushrooms on the kitchen counter and she knew it was for her, as they knew it was her favorite.

She didn't deserve them.

They deserved someone better than her.

She needed air.

Slipping on her flats, she left the apartment quietly, heading into the breezeway that ran the length of the building. She knew she was overthinking it, she knew they weren't like him, that they wouldn't hurt her intentionally. That they would never hurt her, but she--

Pain blossomed from her cheekbone, sending her to the ground, her head bouncing off the concrete.

Mike snapped awake, looking around the apartment.

"Steph?" He called out, but there was no answer. Getting up, he went into the bedroom, but Sy was alone in bed. "Stephanie?" He went into the bathroom, but it was empty. The second bedroom that she and Walter were using as an office was also empty and dark, the computer turned off. "Steph?" A sinking feeling was building in his chest.

She breathed through the pain, hearing him walk around her.

"Oh, Stephanie." Jordan said, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

#henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #august walker #hellraiser mike #geralt of rivia #alternate instincts

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puhpandas · 1 year ago

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video game headcanons for the fnaf kids:

Gregory and Evan play mario party together. Gregory will create made up beef with one of the CPUs if they ever cross him and he'll convince Evan to team up with him to pound them into the ground so they'll lose

Gregory would be an animal jam kid. he would be one of those super rich nonmembers that somehow got a ton of rares and cant wear any of them. he uses the tiger or bunny and the colors on it look like glamrock freddys colors. he'll invite Cassie to his den and she'll have a membership and a cute pink/purple avatar. Cassies den is beautifully decorated and she collects pets to put in their own corner

Gregory, Evan and Cassie play animal crossing. Cassie plays and knows the process of project KK like the back of her hand and can complete it in no time. she grinds to get all of the cute items and villagers and will have a bunch of island themes and reset when shes finished to make another. she loves her villagers and only likes the cute ones. she for sure made a raceway island once with Vivian as her fave

Evan plays animal crossing and will just chill. he has no intense goals or interests he just has a completely normal looking island and will take any villager he gets and love them and be nice to them. he completes his daily nook mileage tasks every day and will say hi to his villagers, and then probably fish

Gregory doesnt care about how his island looks. he kind of cares about his villagers but not if they get in the way (or he makes up imaginary beef with them). theres trash and items all over his island and hes wearing the ugliest outfit you've ever seen. all he does is catch bugs and fish and dig for fossils. he only cares about the museum, so he'll grind nook miles to get tickets to visit deserted islands. since he doesnt care about clothes or items he has TONS of bells and likes to see how many he can wrack up with no cheating. they all visit eachothers islands and Cassie always gives Gregory a better outfit when she visits, and Evan will give Gregory golden tools

they all play roblox. Gregory uses his canonical computer skills to create an amazing roblox game and it always has tens of thousands or more players in it and he has tons of robux and limiteds. he plays FPS games and trading games and always had value lists bookmarked on his computer

Cassie has a cute well put together avatar (probably with some UGC roxy item, like maybe her plushie in a bag), and she plays Gregory's game all the time. they always team up and fight with people in drama games and get them voted out.

Evan has an account, but hes just a bacon hair with no robux. it looks like hes a noob but if you go to his account his join date is years earlier. he plays calm games like any simulator or hello kitty cafe, or trading games. he doesnt have a computer so he can only play on his phone. hes actually good at FPS games, but his phone hinders him a lot. he uses a sniper so he can just find a position and use his fast reflexes to get people that way

Gregory Evan and Cassie will play roblox together and Gregory has to use his alt (his alt has robux and hes wearing a shirt that says I'm with stupid->). theyll play things like Outlaster and Gregory and Cassie will cook up some drama with some random player and Cassie will use her tons of items to use vote cards and stuff like that on them.

Gregory is super cracked at the game and wins every game almost instantly. nobody can go up against his GGY skills and everybody hates him for it and targets him. Evan cant move well enough on his phone to be super good at the parkour, and he doesn't want to be mean to anybody, but he pulls through at the end and tells someone off for being mean to Gregory and wins them the game by using one of his items on the Gregory hater during elimination

Gregory and Cassie play splatoon, but Evan doesnt have a switch to play with them. Gregory mains duelies and will be that guy that goes in your spawn and kills you with his cracked skills (only in turf war tho, he has honor). if evan did have a switch, he would main the e-litre and/or the splat roller.

if he used the elitre, gregory would leave his position as a spawn camper to come back and guard Evan while he gets kills. if evan used the splat roller, he would be perfectly content using the roll feature to ink any turf behind the battle (and somehow roll people over in the process lol)

Cassie likes to hide in ink and kill people. she'll get a weapon with squid beacons and hide in a corner on top of one, so when someone comes to break it she'll jump out and kill them. she thinks its hilarious every time

that's all I got for now. thinking about these guys being normal kids is so fun their group could be so funny lol

#pandas.txt #pandas talks #flashlight duo #Gregory and evan #superstar duo #gregory and cassie #cassie and evan #flashlight trio #thoughts #gregory and evan and cassie #gregory #evan #cassie

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strayheartless · 1 year ago

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I Am ThInKiNg AbOuT ThE FAN CLUBS AGAIN!!

Specifically naming them. Like I know Sephiroth’s fans get the silver elite, which I like but whenever I see the red leather fan club for Genesis I’m like “Absolutely not. Where is the poetry, the flavour!”

So here have this!:

Personally I think Genesis’ fans would be known as the ‘Crimson guard’. Why? Because its dramatic as fuck. Gen is absolutely the kind of person who trade marks his jacket colour; or at least the Rhapsodus estate does for him. And I feel like his fans exude early 2000s vampire fans. Like they’ve either read loveless and cite it as THE piece of literature; or they haven’t read it but STILL site it as seminal reading.

The Crimson guard wear red in all their outfits. They all have an earring they never take off instead of a club card or whatever. They are obnoxiously debating the subtlety and meaning of that one look Genesis have the camera in Junon. They are insufferable.

Angeals fans are called ‘The honourable few’ because their isn’t as many of them but the ones there are are Loyal as fuck. Genesis named them (as founder of the club, shhhhhh) and likes interacting with them more than his fans.

Angeals fans are very passionate about defending Angeals place in the trinity and there’s a nice balance of men, women and other identifying people in the club. They hold fundraisers for causes Angeal cares about, and run support classes to help each other with their dreams and honour. It’s a very accepting community and concentrates on being accessible and friendly.

The ‘Silver Elite’ are mostly male, and also very toxically straight. Sephiroth hates the fan club with a burning passion. The fandom he’s fine with, but the official fan club he despises. There is absolutely a difference between the two. The fan club makes itself out to be inaccessible to anyone who isn’t ‘of worthy status’ and gives off major toxic fraternity vibes. Cloud has a membership card but doesn’t actually attend meeting because it really wouldn’t be safe for them.

The silver Elite fandom however, are just REALLY avidly obsessed with how pretty Seph is. The fandom is also more LGBT friendly and get along well with the crimson fandom who are also vastly different from the club.

Zacks fan club is honestly the most wholesome. The fandom and the fan club are one in the same with Zack. They are called ‘The Zoomers’ and yes Zack did choose that name himself.

They are openly LGBTQIA+ friendly, basically everyone is neurodivergent, and there’s a big focus on having fun and achieving goals. Zacks fans find him super inspirational and they have an ongoing fund for neurodivergent causes. They do meet ups and plan days out; there’s a community page where you can find likeminded fans to go do fun stuff with. They are honestly the best.

Their only major flaw is maybe being a little too protective of Zack. They can get quite vicious if Zacks character is called into question. And both Cloud and Aerith have had a little bit of shit for being close with him. But generally the majority of the fandom also jump to the defence of Cloud and Aerith when it happens and call out the people being mean.

Cloud also may have a Zoomer club card but he will NEVER tell Zack!

#ffvii #ffvii crisis core #headcanons #fan club shenanigans #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #gender queer cloud strife #I will die on that hill #aerith gainsborough #crisis core #final fantasy 7

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rebuke-me · 1 year ago

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writing prompt jenna and brooke being (awkward) friends 👀👀

i like to think this takes place their sophomore year or so, before the events of the musical. their friendship is so messy to me i love them dearly

They’d all planned on going to the movies, and Chloe Valentine bailed at the last minute for a boy.

It wasn’t uncommon, really, for that to happen. Chloe liked to make plans, then cancel them on a whim. Jenna was convinced it was a power trip thing. Or maybe Chloe just genuinely didn’t care a single bit about her friends. Either one was entirely possible.

Jenna sat in Brooke’s mom’s car, staring at her phone. Chloe hadn’t texted.

“She posted on her story and she’s super clearly in Jake’s room.” Jenna said, looking over at Brooke, who sighed.

Brooke was nice. She was a bit ditzy, sure, she didn’t really know what to say most of the time, but she listened to Jenna’s gossip. But they almost never hung out, just the two of them, without Chloe there.

“Well, um. I can take you home, then.” Brooke said, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, looking over at the movie theater. Jenna didn’t want to see the movie at all. She’d mostly agreed to get the hell out of her house and stop feeling like such an outsider. Which had failed miserably.

For a moment, Jenna imagined what it’d be like to just hang out with Brooke for a day. Go get fro-yo. Talk about boys neither of them really cared about. Laugh at memes on each other’s phones. Get their nails done and braid hair and do whatever else girls did when they hung out with each other.

But the awkward air made her feel like she was being looked at under a microscope. Not even by Brooke, because the other girl didn’t seem like she even noticed that Jenna was there, much less her finer feelings.

“Do you wanna go get fro-yo instead? Pinkberry has a two for one toppings sale for people with a membership card.” Brooke said, just as Jenna opened her mouth to agree to going home.

Jenna looked at her for a moment, before she gave a small smile. “Yeah. I think fro-yo sounds… really good right now.” She said. “And I can tell you all about who I saw Dustin hooking up with at Chloe’s last party-” Brooke grinned. “Oh my god. Please tell me it’s juicy.” “The hottest gossip. I promise.” And if she felt a sort of twinge of guilt about talking about something neither of them really, truly cared about, she shoved it away. Fro-yo would fix the roiling in her stomach.

#be more chill #bmc #jenna rolan #brooke lohst #jupescribbles

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shirosanshi · 10 months ago

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hiya! 18 and 29 for the ask game please

i really wanna know what you’ll choose 🌻

Aaaah, thank you for these two :3 Well my answers are going to be from Gazette band fanfics, bc that's what I deal in... I hope you don't mind!

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic? I think it has to be this one, from Songs For The Drawer (although depending on what device you are using to read it's a bit more than one line :D): Yuu recognized the song from the scribbles on the back of the paper. It was a painful one from around the time he wanted to quit the band. It was a cry for help, a confession, a self-depriving monologue, but at the end, just like all the other maybe six dozen papers lying on the floor, it was a love letter in the form of a song, one he wrote to Kouyou long-long years ago. 29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. Okay, here's Aoi as a dominant shibari rope master preparing for a night at the BDSM Club he attends... (GazettE fans, pls scream at me if you want this one to be published because I have some work to do on it, but I'd fucking LOVE a reason to make myself complete it.)

The Hunter

The second Saturday of the month. It was always the second Saturday of the month, and it was always the same like someone had written a script for the event. Maybe they did. Starting at nine in the evening, closing at three in the morning, six rooms and a colour coded identification system. You have to wear something nice, maybe something you would not go out to the street in. And you have to arrive with a clear mind and clean body, devoid of any influence. Take your equipment with you if you want, but there will be plenty to use there too. No cameras allowed. If you haven't uploaded a lab result of being STI free in that month to the website yet, you can’t attend…

Yuu knew all the rules by heart, and listing them in his head before leaving his condo was a way for him to get in the right headspace. There were two scenes planned tonight and an instruction session in the Daybreak room. He had to be on top of this. He took one gaze at his reflection in the full body mirror next to the door, noting how the black leather pants were hugging his thighs, the way the soft material of his dark shirt was outlining his upper body, stretching a bit on his chest. He flicked the top two buttons open. No fancy costumes this time, he wanted to be comfortable and be able to utilize his body’s movements to the fullest. With a sigh, he grabbed his bag and his keys and went down to the garage to begin the hour-long drive to the outskirts of the city, where he was to find Flame, the club he was heading to.

Soft jazz filled the interior of the car on his ride, it always helped heighten his senses and sharpen his focus, but this time his head was a bit fuzzy.

“Get your shit together, Aoi” he muttered as he exited the car seventy minutes later, and headed for the entrance of the club. He presented his membership card to the bouncer and asked for a yellow wristband, as usual. Yellow meant not taken, but not looking for anything in particular either. Yellow meant come and talk to me, but yellow also meant I don’t want anything from you. Yellow was a colour not many wore in this place.

He arrived precisely on time and headed for the prep room in the back. Some heads turned after him in the hallway, some averted their eyes shyly. He had no problem with either. Sitting down in one of the secluded corners of the prep room, he took out his equipment and meticulously checked every inch of it. No chafing of the ropes, no ends left unsealed, everything clean and ready as it should be. Each and every inch of rope sliding through his fingers was like a soothing balm to his nerves, and when he reached the end of his task he relaxed and had all the confidence he needed.

#ask #writing stuff

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darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght · 10 months ago

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Chapter 11- Part 8

Growth and Mega Drain should be enough to handle one little Happiny, right?

…Uh…this’ll be fine, I think. Like, sure, she’s trying to switch out Happiny for Stufful, but that’s not really working out-

See? Now, it’d be nice if the Stufful didn’t somehow live that attack, but I’ve already said more than enough about my luck regarding the damage rolls, so let’s just try to finish the job with Magical Leaf.

I said, let’s try to finish the job with Magical Leaf!!

Anyways, she’s gonna send out Happiny again, and while Bloom can possibly still beat it, I’m just gonna switch into Glare purely out of spite.

Screech and Crunch, please!

Honey, you have no idea who you’re talking to (referring to myself, not Xera, Xera’s status as a gamer is dubious at the moment).

No ma’am, and we probably won’t see it until towards the end of the game. But I would like to see what’s further down this street, because I have yet to find any hidden items.

For example: this rock hidden back here! Very inconspicuous, seems like a prime location to hide something…

Boom, I was right! And that is a VERY good item indeed, because the Cotton Candy- one of the things you can buy at Sweet Kiss- works as a Revive substitute!

Our first revival item in this game so far, and it came from a random rock on the street- I wouldn’t have expected anything else.

Sooo, further down the street, we’ve got more broken infrastructure-

So much brokenness, in fact, we can’t read that street sign, such a sad state of affairs. :(

Well, at least this Red Shard makes up for it a little bit.

Now, doesn’t seem like we can go into the building right up there, so let’s take a look at the Department Store instead!

Mm, more mention of Stickers- I remember someone in Grand Hall saying something about a Tangela Sticker or something, but I have yet to do anything with that information, so let’s just talk to the ladies up front, see if they say anything of note.

I think I’ve gathered the basic gist, but…yeah, let’s hear it. Maybe this’ll give us a membership card of our own!

I like how they say they ‘developed’ a membership system as if membership systems don’t already exist in several places- although, given the idealistic state of the rest of the Pokémon world, I guess a membership program would be a pretty uncommon thing.

#pokemon reborn #pokemon reborn spoilers #pokemon fan game #pokemon reborn screenshot let's play

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sunspray-peak · 1 year ago

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Ch. 61: Dreams Delaying

TUESDAY - WINTER 16

The past few days had felt like a dream.

True to his word, the evening after Elliott’s book reading Achilles had purchased two center orchestra seats for Persephonopolis and had made a reservation at the third nicest restaurant in Zuzu City (third because he didn’t want to go too overboard on Date #2).

Alex had indeed found a tie, though by covering nearly the whole damn thing with a burgundy quarter zip, he hadn’t been quite as overdressed as Achilles—who had fully committed to their “fancy” theme—had anticipated.

Well. Alex had at least liked his suspenders. He supposed the compliment was a worthy enough consolation prize for sticking out like a sore thumb at the Grannis Theater—half the folks sitting around them were wearing sweatpants. Sweatpants! And in such a lovely auditorium, too—pastel murals of Grecian figures had adorned the ceiling, and ornate floral carvings trimmed in gold and sage green had greeted them as they took their seats of cushioning plush.

It wasn’t the splashiest spectacle of musicals—a little dark, more than a little sad—but the music was good and the set and lighting design extraordinary. And Alex had been bright-eyed throughout, had jumped to his feet, cheering like a child the moment curtain call began, so it was clear he had enjoyed it enough, which was really all anyone could have wanted. They’d grabbed some late night ice cream before taking the bus back. Achilles had walked him home. It’d been a good night.

And late Tuesday afternoon, during the tail end of the work day, Achilles had popped over to Zuzu again. His excuse had been to sign up for a membership with Orange Grove, after allegedly having forgotten to the previous day, but Alex had seen clear through him.

“You’re never going to use this, you hate working out in front of other people.”

“Maybe I’m signing up to make your numbers look good, ever thought of that, Mr. Manager?”

Alex only laughed as Megan, who was manning the front desk today, snapped Achilles’ photo.

“But you picked our most expensive plan,” she couldn’t help but remark as she glanced at his freshly printed, iridescent membership card before handing it to Achilles. He straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the counter and slipped it into his wallet before pointing a thumb at Alex’s turned back.

“Oh did I? Guess that’s just how much I care about this bitch’s numbers.”

Though perhaps he was doing too much… Then again, even before they’d been dating, they had seen each other practically every day—there was nowhere else to go in that regard, so surely what he was doing now, the “extra”of it all, was only natural. Only expected. What more else could he do? He wanted to be supportive. Really, it was just a natural part of the transition from friends to… whatever the hell they were right now. Right?

And besides, what else was Achilles doing with his life these days? Why not get out of town for a bit. Spend money. He’d nothing else better to do…

Don’t think about that.

It’s not like he was just aimlessly loitering, waiting around for Alex. He’d brought a book. He’d brought a notebook. He had taken care not to distract Alex—who, outside of teaching the occasional class, now spent most of his time in the back office—from his job, though there were only a few minutes left in the work day, anyway; he had timed his visit well, Alex would be heading to the pool soon. He had planned to read and keep Alex company for a couple hours while he trained.

Legs pulled tightly against his chest, Achilles found himself sitting atop one of three lounge recliners once 5:10pm hit. The white fluorescent lights above were nice and bright, and he managed to get through a good portion of his book, but even so, his eyes were repeatedly drawn away from the pages in his lap to the muscled figure in the water.

Just like back in the Summer out in the Gem Sea, it was almost meditative watching him swim—Alex was obviously no amateur; he moved with a seasoned, steady strength and confidence that Achilles could never hope to replicate, arms smoothly slicing freestyle through the water like a hot knife through butter.

At the opposite end of the pool, he saw Alex pause, chest heaving. He gripped the wall with one hand and lifted his goggles with the other as his coach bent down to speak with him.

Achilles followed their gazes to the massive digital clock on the opposite wall. 49.93 seconds. Not bad. Not bad at all. He knew Alex was hoping to get below 49 by the end of next summer.

But he found that his vicarious thrill was dulled by something a little more sour, a little more grey; he should’ve been excited, seeing Alex’s obvious joy in finally being able to make strides towards his goals, but instead, Achilles couldn’t help but feel… wistful.

Selfish.

He shoved the feeling aside and forced himself to return to his book, though he found himself reading the same sentence twice more than an occasional time.

But afterwards, in the empty locker room, he’d forgotten his melancholy. He’d tousled Alex’s damp hair, and Alex had kissed him on the cheek, and together they had ridden the bus back to the Valley and he had once more felt like gold.

Yes, the past few days had felt like a dream. A good dream—a great dream! Yes, he had been feeling great. Feeling absolutely amazing. Feeling better than he had all year.

Until he didn’t.

#llnks #sdv fanfiction #stardew fanfiction #sdv alex #stardew valley alex #alex sdv #sdv oc

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sunsoakedhighhopes · 1 year ago

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Captain America issue #5, Case #3 - Killers of the Bund

In this issue, a group of German Nazis (I say German, because of course, there are American Nazis, and those are actually the most commonly featured Nazis in these comics) have started terrorizing prominent German-American citizens who refuse to join their ranks.

So, here's something that I think is historically interesting. We have a panel of Bucky and Steve musing that German-Americans are nice people, despite the war with Germany that's happening in Europe. This is reinforced in the MCU with the first scene between Steve and Erskine when we see Erskine almost tense up when Steve comments on him being German, and his later relief when Steve expresses that he isn't going to judge him.

And I understand the difference here, between this and what is about to happen to Japanese-Americans in this country just six months after this issue released. Because Erskine, and Bob Shmidt aren't just German-Americans, they are also German Jews who fled Germany. But I do think it's interesting, because I don't think we are likely to see this sentiment expressed by Steve about Japanese-Americans in the coming issues. I don't know. It will be interesting to see.

Okay, so one of Bucky's friends, Bob Shmidt, and his family are from Germany, and the Nazis have attempted to recruit his father for something. When he refuses, they beat him up and he ends up in the hospital. Bob runs to inform his friend Bucky what happened, which is very fortuitous, since, you know, Bucky is secretly bff with Captain America.

Yeah, you are Steve. Go get em!

Steve and Bucky sneak into the Nazis compound -- or, rather, they attempt to sneak in.

Bucky, how did you not see the bucket before you stepped in it? Okay, well you know how it is. If you can't sneak in, then you'll just have to fight your way in.

Steve and Bucky fight off a literal battalion of Nazis, and I didn't grab the panel, but Steve says, "You've had enough, eh? You're pretty brave until someone stands up to you and fights!" and that just feels like a very Steve line to me.

So, Steve and Bucky leave the Nazis in a pile of beat-up flesh, tell them to never threaten anyone again, and leave. I mentioned in my last post that Steve typically doesn't kill the enemies -- and I want you to hang onto that thought until later in this post -- and he says, "Well, we're going now. We never hit men when they're licked -- We're not Nazis! -- but we'll be back! The time has come for Americans to teach you a lesson! We'll be seeing you!"

Now, there's this thing in the middle of every issue, where kids could send in a dime and join Captain America's Sentinels of Liberty. Basically, they just got a membership card in the mail. it was a way for kids to feel like they were a part of the fight along with Steve, and I think they maybe actually did hold meetings (but those meetings were really just, like Captain America fanclub meetings).

I've talked previously about how Bucky works as a stand-in for the audience, but I swear I read somewhere, though I have to admit I cannot find the source again, that the Sentinels of Liberty was actually a means of propaganda in its own right, because kids would talk to their parents about how they were fighting Nazis, and how their parents should fight Nazis, too. Essentially it was a means to drive support for America getting involved in the war. Don't quote me on that, as I cannot find my source, but I swear I read this somewhere, and I think this case is really interesting if you view it through that lens.

Anyway, the Sentinels of Liberty exist in the comic itself (though this is the first time we've seen them -- again, let that thought hang out in the back of your mind a bit), as well, and are meetings where kids gather to talk about how they can help in the fight against Nazis. Like, literally join in the fight against Nazis.

Bucky of course, is the leader of one of these groups, and he holds a meeting the next day (yes, with fellow small children) where he instructs the members to find the location of other Nazi hideouts and report back so that Captain America can mop them up -- not that Bucky knows how to contact Captain America, because secret identity or something (?) -- but no one questions this apparent flaw in the plan.

Also, y'all, there is a picture of the group, and there is one black child in the group, and y'all.... the art.... ooof. That's all I can say. It's bad.

Okay, so these small children start spying on literal Nazis -- which I mean, look, you do what you gotta do, this was probably actually happening in Germany -- but as a means of propaganda, it is kinda a lot. Bucky happens to overhear two Nazis talking about how, at that precise moment in time, there are some other Nazis on their way to "take care of Captain America". Bucky runs back to camp to warn Steve...

...but it's too late because Steve is already missing.

I'm honestly not clear on whether the presumption is supposed to be that they took him from his tent (or at least camp) since they shouldn't actually know where to find him -- since secret identity and all -- but hold that thought, because the plot holes in the secret identity thing are big enough to drive a van though in one of the upcoming cases.

Anyway, where is Steve? Steve is passed out and being manhandled by a bunch of Nazi men.

Note that he is in his uniform, which would mean that he was taken as Captain America and not as Steve. But still...

Okay, so they knocked out Steve with some sleeping gas of their own invention, tied him up, and then we get this exchange.

Steve! You are a menace. Also I love how absolutely nonchalant Steve is, because then they tell Steve that they're going to use the sleeping gas to knock out the whole town and then take it captive. And then they quickly discover that they probably should have kept that detail to themselves, because this upsets Steve a great deal, and we get this:

Like, I am absolutely enamored with the fact that Steve was like "Okay, I'll stand here and pretend like you actually have me captured because it amuses me and I have clever quips about it" and then he's just like, okay, now I'm done pretending, and completely wipes the floor with all of them.

I mean, they didn't even successfully have him tied up (score one for Steve bondage fics where he breaks his bondage when he gets bored with it).

The Nazis run for their planes, and we canonically have Steve being able to fly a plane.

Also.... remember how I was like, Steve typically doesn't kill the villains.... yeah, that all changes here, where he literally does go target them and hunt them down.

Which is.... interesting, I think? The US didn't join the war until four months after this issue was released. Yes, ostensibly we joined the war because of Pearl Harbor, but things had decidedly been moving in that direction before Pearl Harbor. I just feel like we can track the overall feelings about the war and the Nazis by how Steve handles them at any given point in time during his run.

After he shoots down all the Nazis, and has a fist fight with one of them on the wing of an airplane (hello, Indiana Jones) he lands back on the ground where he meets Bucky, who tells him that the members of the Sentinels of Liberty (and their fathers) have gone to raid the Nazi hideout where they went before. Yes, again, literal children show up at the Nazi camp with a bunch of sticks and start kicking Nazi ass. And then Steve shows up and the Nazis flee.

Later Bob Shmidt's father turns up at camp to thank Steve for taking care of Bob when he was in the hospital (uh.... Steve did not take care of Bob while his father was in the hospital, he was off fighting Nazis.... with Bob! ... but anyway...)

Steve! Actually I think this is kind of sweet. He wants to reassure them that Captain America knows they appreciate what he does.

And Steve somehow manages to avoid KP-duty this time. May miracles never cease.

#steve rogers #marvel comics #captain america #stevie reads comics

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lesaltywarlock · 2 years ago

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A Regular Day For Griffin Fogarty

A story about how Griffin Fogarty met a Demon.

I was working on Griffin’s profile when I thought about this fic I made a while ago, detailing the story of how he met his Servant. I want to make similar stories for the rest of the Masters as well, but...well, I’ll get to that eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a beautiful day, ain’t it? The sun’s shining, the birds are chirping, and the car exhaust is as rotten as it was the day before.

“What a beautiful day.” Griffin Fogarty repeated his inner monologue, only questioning his sanity for a few seconds before sitting up. Reaching his arms up above his head to stretch, he promptly banged his knuckles on the metal roof of the van he called home. He recoiled and rubbed his mildly sore hands. “Jesus, I really need to stop doing that.”

Seriously, there were indents from how often he’s done that.

To start off the day, he did his morning routine as anyone would. He neatly folded his thin blanket and placed it on the upper right corner of his mattress before throwing open the van’s back doors and slipping on some gym shoes. Griffin hopped out onto the blacktop of the gas station parking lot to go buy some breakfast.

The familiar jingle of digital bells greeted him when he entered, along with the bored expression of the clerk at the door. An old Italian woman, with a voice ragged and scratchy from years of smoking, but she was kind and gave him free reign of the drink machines.

“Hey, Griffin.” They said, just like always, with a heavy accent. “Just the usual?”

“Yes, please! Oh, actually I just got paid yesterday, so I might be able to splurge a bit more this time.” He placed down a crumpled up ten dollar bill with a cocky grin. “I’ll actually pay for my coffee this time.

The woman’s name tag reflected the morning sun into his eyes, displaying her name. Janice. She smiled at him, perhaps the first expression of interest she’s made today. “Really, now? Why don’t you use it for something better.”

He denied it at first, but she kept insisting, so he eventually relented. Griffin roamed the three short aisles of snacks and occasional premade meals before choosing out some trail mix, a salad, and a Gatorade for when he gets thirsty. There weren’t many options he could choose when it came to meals, as most of them contained meat, but he’s grown to like what little he had. He also got his usual coffee order, adding as much cream and sugar as humanly possible in the tall paper cup filled with slightly burnt vanilla flavored coffee.

Janice scanned his things and handed him his precious change before they bid their farewells. Today was a weekday, and he only got gas on Sundays. He hopped into the ripped up, sun bleached driver’s seat of his van and sped off into the city he’s memorized like the back of his hand.

The gym was his first stop, as always, where he greeted the man at the front desk who only worked Mondays before heading off to his usual round of machinery. He had no need for exercising this frequently every morning, but it was a nice way to get him energized and ready to take on the world.

Also, gyms had showers, and since he didn’t exactly have a home, a corresponding gym membership would allow him to use said shower all he wanted. Which he did, for maybe a good thirty minutes afterwards.

Today was an off day for him. The past few days have been off days for him, mostly because he couldn’t find work after being let go from his old job, and it was rare for anyone to come to him of all people for appliance maintenance or locksmithing no matter how much he advertised it online. The only exception was yesterday, when he miraculously snagged a job helping someone locked outside of their home.

After changing into much cleaner and less sweaty clothes in his van, he then drove to the local library. Having a library card was also a much needed expense since they had free wifi, computers, and, of course, books! Grabbing his old backpack that was practically ripping apart from years of use, he headed inside and plopped onto his usual spot at one of the many wooden long tables inside.

Griffin was still a student after all, taking a few online classes over the summer partly for fun and to finish off some electives he missed before. School was difficult, but having a full ride made things a bit easier, or at least it motivated him enough to keep trying for at least a B+. Without it, he’d probably have gone into debt which he sure as hell didn’t need when he didn’t even have a home.

His stomach’s incessant growling signaled the end of today’s work session. As he left the library and navigated through the parking lot, he mentally tallied up the money he had saved up along with the number of places to eat at. In the end, he decided on his favorite taco truck that was always close to where some of his friends lived. It was hard being on the streets as a vegetarian, but the owners of the truck were kind enough to start making vegetarian options for him.

He was about to start the engine when he noticed a slip of paper peeking out from the lower left corner of his windshield. Griffin stared at it for a few seconds before fear ran through his spine. He let out a defeated sigh and got out to retrieve the ticket.

“Come on, New York, what the hell did I do wrong this time?” He groaned and pushed the door open with his foot. “Seriously, you see a guy living in a van and think he’s a criminal or something….”

When he grabbed the ticket, he was surprised to see that it very much wasn’t a ticket. In fact, it was a parchment adorned with a golden eagle wax sealing. After peeling it off, he opened it up and read a fancily written letter.

To the head of the Fogarty family,

Fortune smiles upon you today, oh fallen blacksmith. You, whose family has all but perished, have been given a chance at redemption. The Holy Grail of legend, an all powerful wish-granter, has been planted in New York City. You and six other Mages shall conduct a ritual known as a Holy Grail War, in which you summon a familiar, a phantom of the past, at your side and defeat your fellow Mages so as to win ownership of the Grail. Only one Master and Servant will win this. If you search the back of your van, you will find the materials needed to start the process, however, a catalyst to help assist with summoning your Servant is not provided. Perhaps you already own one, as the heir to a family of talented armorers.

Good luck,

- Quentin Rambert

“What the fuck?” Griffin exclaimed aloud, turning the heads of a family entering the library and causing the parents to glare at him. His face heated up, and he yelled out, “sorry!”

Obviously, they didn’t care about his apology, and the kid didn’t care at all about what he said either.

He turned his attention back to the parchment in his hands, which weighed as much as the world itself. A chance to wish for anything he desired, and all he had to do was kill six other people and their familiars.

Griffin wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of killing someone, though he never did. He was still a Mage, and his pride as a Mage still burned within him no matter how long it’s been since he lost everything so many years ago. Nonetheless, he was still inexperienced, and he lived in a van of all things. If anyone found out, he’d be better off as death fodder.

But…there was still a chance for him to win, right? All he needed was his familiar to fight with him and a catalyst to help summon them.

He crawled into the back of the van through the driver’s seat and found a duffel bag containing another large parchment containing a summoning circle, the directions and incantations to summon the Servant, and an address.

After looking it up on his phone, he discovered it was an old abandoned store in a practically barren part of town. It looked shady, but then again, most Mages were.

Griffin weighed the odds, but he began to imagine seeing his family’s faces again. His mother’s kind smile and his father’s tough gaze that always encouraged him to succeed. He shut his eyes and pictured that scene countless times before coming to an answer.

“Alright, Quentin. I’ll accept this offer of yours.”

The only problem, of course, was a catalyst. Some item meant to help summon this Servant of his own. Considering he was homeless and also very poor, there wasn’t much that he had much less could use as a catalyst.

But then a thought popped into existence in his mind. He hoisted the mattress off the floor of the van revealing a garbage bag filled with mementos of his past protected by bubble wrap. After rummaging through family pictures, documents, and some personal keepsakes from his parents, he found it. The first sword he ever made that earned his family’s approval, and it was the start of his journey as a Fogarty before it all came to a screeching halt. He sold a lot of his tools that came after that for money, but he could never quite let go of this one. The blade itself wasn’t perfect, with the edges slightly jagged and starting to rust from years of being hidden away. Even the pommel was barely attached to the hilt, and the leather sheath it was in had started to rot away.

But it was his, and maybe it could give him some badass Servant to boot.

He drove to the address on the paper, only getting lost once trying to take a shortcut along the way. Eventually, he arrived at the empty square and headed inside past the cracked nonfunctioning automatic doors.

Either a storm passed through it or a fight broke out, because the whole place was wrecked and filled with debris. A long gash wrapped around the entire store, with overturned shelves and carts all slashed in half in a manner that looked way too clean to be anything natural. Obviously, none of this was natural, but….

“You’ve accepted our invitation, then?”

The shadows spoke in a shrill, cocky voice. Emerging from the darkness came a young man several inches shorter than him. He was dressed in a black suit lined with gold, and the insignia of an eagle was branded on his shoulder. The man strutted his way over to Griffin, staring straight at him with green eyes shimmering with some sort of electricity. Smoothing his dirty blond hair back, he remarked, “call me Quentin. I’m the heir to—”

“The Rambert family. Famous and rich modern day aristocrats who’ve served New York for years. I-I read your stupid invitation or whatever.” Griffin waved the parchment around in his hands, only to realize that he just yelled at the heir of a rich and powerful family who could probably sick the fucking mafia or something on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah, I’ll be in your Grail War.”

“I’m a bit honored you know me.” Quentin stood up straight and bared his chest out in pride. “Then again, everyone knows me.”

“Why are you here?”

“To observe the birth of a new Master, of course.” They replied. “It’s not everyday that one gets to be in a Holy Grail War.”

Griffin wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with any Mages, much less the famed Rambert family. He was immediately suspicious, and all of his brain’s alarms flared up with every passing second, but it’s not like he had a choice. If he rejected, there’s no telling what they might do to him. Though if he accepted, there was also a chance that Quentin might kill him on the spot.

His only choice was to do the ritual.

He glared at the man but tried his best to continue as usual. He laid out the parchment of the summoning circle and placed his old sword in the center. Quentin raised a brow at it and said, “you’re trying to summon a Saber, then? Going for a strong Servant from the bat, aren’t you?”

“If it helps me win, then I’ll do whatever.” Griffin stepped back a few paces and held up the paper with the incantation. With a catalyst, it made the whole process much easier, so all he had to do now was start the ritual.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let fire and brimstone pay tribute. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate!”

The moment he started the incantation, energy poured out from his body in the form of flames that burned the parchment away, leaving the now glowing shape of the summoning circle. Quentin’s face was illuminated in the light, giving his cold expression an eerie glow.

He continued.

“Let it be declared now. Your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.”

His sword trembled, absorbing the summoning circle’s energy before shooting out a pillar of pure light up into the ceiling. A gust of wind shoved him back, but he managed to keep himself from falling over. As he spoke, a deep voice repeated his words moments after they left his tongue.

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

The light promptly disappeared in the blink of an eye. The energy surging through the summoning circle faded away like embers crumbling off firewood. It was just him and Quentin once more.

“Did…it work?” He asked above the ensuing silence.

Quentin said nothing but pointed at his right hand. When he looked down, he found a lion’s head branded on his skin like a tattoo. Its jaws were open in a ferocious roar, with eyes that pierced right through his being. It burned, but no matter how much he rubbed at it, they didn’t smudge.

“Those are your Command Seals.” Quentin explained. “They are proof of your title as Master. They’re powerful spells that allow you to order your Servant to do anything, regardless of power or will, but remember that you only have three. Use them wisely.”

Suddenly, they started to ache even more after hearing that information. Did they really just freely give him the spells to give his familiar absolute orders? Griffin looked around the store, not finding a single person, and a part of him wondered if the ritual actually worked. HIs Servant was nowhere to be seen.

“I…uh, don’t know what to do now.” He murmured in a feeble attempt to fill the silence.

“What we do now is kill each other.”

Griffin choked on his spit. He stumbled backwards, tripping on an empty cart and falling on his ass. Quentin approached him at a snail’s pace, but it didn’t ease the fear creeping into his throat. “Wh-what?”

“With you, our final Master, the Holy Grail War has officially begun.” Lightning crackled between his fingertips which he clasped together, smiling with bloodlust. “The objective is to kill six of the seven Servants, but considering they’re much more powerful than regular humans, it’d be easier to target the Masters. Starting…with you.”

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He was about to die. Griffin Fogarty was about to die. He tried to move, but found himself paralyzed by the growing static electricity in the air. His nose hairs burned with the scent of ozone as clouds gathered above them. Quentin snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning to strike the ground in front of him.

At first, he thought the man just had bad aim, but the sound of footsteps growing closer behind him told Griffin that it was done on purpose. It was a signal.

He turned his head to come face to face with a spear flying straight at his chest, held by a warrior in silver armor. His brief, miserable life flashed before him, and it only made his impending doom feel even more disappointing. After trying so hard to turn his life around after losing everything, this was where it all ended.

“Pick yourself up, Griffin Fogarty!” That same deep, echoing voice spoke both in his mind and in reality. Milliseconds later, a sword, his sword, deflected the warrior’s blow. The wielder was a samurai, or at least someone dressed in the thick plated samurai armor that he’s only ever seen in movies. Despite his sword being a standard European style longsword, they wielded it similarly to a kendo player and used it to parry the silver-clad warrior’s strikes with their spear.

The samurai stared at him with blood red eyes, almost like a demon. His words shook Griffin to his core, like they were commands etched into his very being. “Your life shall not end here. Be brave, Master.”

All of the fear and horror that froze him in place melted away. He pushed himself to his feet and looked over to Quentin’s direction. The man furrowed his brow in anger, yet he didn’t seem surprised by anything that happened. “Lancer! Distract that Servant, I’ll take care of him.”

Electricity gathered in Quentin’s hands as he prepared a spell, but the samurai was much faster than that. He kicked the other Servant, Lancer, in the gut and sent them flying all the way across the store. Then, they were gone in the blink of an eye and reappeared right in front of Quentin, striking them in the nose with the butt of his sword.

Their spell fizzled out as they stumbled back clutching their bloodied nose. Quentin glared at them as Lancer ran to his side with his spear pointed at Griffin. “Alright, you pissed off the wrong guy. Servant or not, you’re still outnumbered.”

The air shimmered as dozens of men with assault rifles appeared from the shadows aiming their laser sights at him. His Servant took up a defensive position, holding up an arm in front of him as some sort of shield. They then huffed and said, “I assure you that you are the one who is outnumbered.”

Plumes of smoke swallowed up the men as the sounds of fighting ensued. Seconds later, when the dust settled, figures cloaked in dark blue clothing that blended in with the darkness stood over the now unconscious gunmen. For the sake of his sanity, Griffin ignored the blood staining their katana.

Lancer took one step towards them before Quentin ordered them to halt. A smile formed on the man’s face, almost seeming satisfied as he applauded Griffin saying, “I must admit, you’ve outsmarted me. What may be a setback to my parents is a job well done for you. You’re one step closer to winning the Grail.”

“Is the Grail a trap as well?” He asked, “is all of this one big elaborate scheme?”

“I assure you that the winner will receive their prize in the end.” They answered, grabbing onto Lancer’s forearm. “I can’t assure you that I’ll help you, though. Maybe the other Masters will be willing to cooperate. Outside of us, there are five others that you will have a chance to meet tomorrow.”

Griffin tensed at the sound of meeting the other participants in this war. He couldn’t help but imagine Mages equally as powerful as Quentin, paired with deadly Servants that could take down a hundred men without so much as lifting a finger. His own Servant’s eyes burrowed into him as they said, “be calm. I will protect you with my life.”

He gathered his courage and forced out his fears through a heavy sigh. “What do you mean by that?”

A few seconds passed before they replied, “a banquet will be held at the Rambert estate outside of the city. This will be your chance to assess the competition and for us to celebrate this momentous occasion. Please, try to wear something fancy. There’ll be a strict dress code.”

“B-but I live in a van, you think I have the money for a suit and tie?”

Quentin shrugged, “not exactly my problem, now is it? I don’t have the time to help you anyways. Being a Rambert’s pretty busy work. Come on, then, Lancer.”

With the loud crackle of thunder and lightning, the pair vanished. As his adrenaline faded, so too did his energy. He fell to his knees clutching at his chest trying to catch his breath. His Servant then pulled him to his feet and gripped him by the shoulders. “Are you alright, Master?”

“Y-yeah, thank you…for everything, and all that.” Griffin managed a smile. “So, you’re my Servant, huh?”

The samurai nodded before sheathing Griffin’s sword and hanging it at his waist, right next to the far sleeker curved katana. They bowed deeply as they said, “you may call me Saber. I shall be your blade from now on, Master.”

“Uh…just call me Griffin.” He laughed nervously. “Master’s…a bit weird of a name.”

“Lord Griffin, then.”

He had a feeling that was the closest Saber would get. Griffin motioned for them to leave the store, and as they did, he couldn’t help but eye the shadows wondering if those men from earlier were still in hiding. “Uh…Saber, where’d all your guys run off to?”

“They are my Noble Phantasm.” He explained. “I can summon them on command to fight and spy for the both of us.”

“Um, mind if I ask what that is?”

Saber nodded. “We Servants are Heroic Spirits, phantoms of figures of the past and fiction. We are given special abilities known as Noble Phantasms that represent the legends that we are known for. Some may wield holy swords, like the legendary King Arthur and Excalibur, while a samurai such as myself is given command over three hundred men. In turn, you are also given that same privilege.”

Griffin’s mind wandered off to a certain BBC show of King Arthur, and how the king definitely sparked an interest in him. He threw that thought away as he slid out of the store and into the parking lot. The sun had set, bringing with it the blanket of night. He didn’t like being in parking lots at night outside of the gas station he’s basically called home for years. It was so dark, and sometimes eerie as well. However, Saber had such a strong presence that he felt the need to be strong as well.

“Do you have a name, Saber?” He asked. “Your…real name. I don’t remember any samurai named Saber in history.”

“It is just a cover name. There are seven classes of Servants in a Holy Grail War, and Saber is one of them.” They answered once more, and Griffin suddenly felt bad for asking so many questions to a man who only just came into being a few minutes ago. “My True Name…the name I was given in life…is Hanzo.”

“Hanzo…that’s a much better name than Saber.” Griffin laughed, throwing open the door to his van and sliding into the driver’s seat while allowing the Servant to rest in the back. “I’m guessing these True Names are supposed to be kept secret?”

Saber nodded.

“Huh…must be weird, you know, to never be called by your name. I wonder if you Servants ever forget who you were back in the day.”

No response.

Griffin was beginning to see how most of their conversations would turn out. He hid his disappointment and drove out of the square, suddenly doubting his actions and the future. Perhaps most importantly, he began to doubt whether or not his wallet could handle having another mouth to feed. He could survive for today, sure, but what about the coming days? What about the literal suit and fucking tie he’d have to buy for tomorrow?

He decided to go and ask his friends tomorrow for help. They were all rich anyways, or at least they had homes unlike him, which Griffin considered wealthy enough. Too tired to do anything else, he pulled into the gas station, headed inside to fetch another pre-packed salad and a chocolate chip cookie as dessert, before flopping onto the mattress in the back of the van.

Saber observed him as he wolfed down his food with reckless abandon. Griffin felt a bit awkward since he’s never exactly had guests in his van, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here, Lord Griffin?” Saber questioned, eyes roaming the nearly empty parking lot with a hint of unease. “We cannot be stuck out in the open like this, when there might be enemies at every corner.”

“It’s the safest I can manage.” He answered, “considering I don’t have a place to go other than this ol’ thing.”

Griffin proceeded to bang on the van’s walls, causing Saber to freeze and then slowly nod. “I see…so you have no home?”

“I’ve been living on the streets for a couple years now, ever since my parents died and their house burned down.” Griffin cleaned up his hands with some hand sanitizer before stuffing his trash in a plastic bag to throw away in the morning. “All they left me were this van and the tools they made, before I had to sell those for money. That sword I used to summon you is the only thing I couldn’t sell.”

“It is a fine sword.” The Servant unsheathed the blade and held it up against the light pouring out from the gas station. “Whoever made this holds great potential as a craftsman.”

His chest burned with pride hearing those words, and he smiled, sitting up a little bit straighter. “Thanks. It’s the first sword I made that earned my parent’s approval. I could probably make a better one now, but…a blacksmith can’t exactly do his job without the tools, and buying those tools takes money that I obviously don’t have.”

It was the worst thing about his situation. If he just had the tools, he might just be able to start earning a living for himself. But in order to do any of that, he needed money, but he also needed money for food and paying for his phone or gas and all the fucking things homeless people still deal with despite not having a home.

“A blacksmith?” Saber questioned, “there’s far more to you than meets the eye, Lord Griffin.”

“Heh…yeah. My whole family line made their legacy as blacksmiths.” Griffin hung his head and conjured up memories of his childhood. The roar of a furnace and the constant hammering of metal always sounded so comforting to him. For a long time, he could never fall asleep without hearing the sounds of fire crackling in the background. “We made a lot of things…and I sold them all, just to get enough money to survive.”

In hindsight, it was a bit dumb, but he was a dumb teenager who didn’t know how to survive on his own.

They sat in silence. Griffin shifted around before eventually laying down on his bed and wrapping himself as best as possible in his blanket. It was getting late, and if he wanted to wake up early to get that suit, then he’d best sleep now. Maybe it’ll give him a bit more time to dream as well.

“Rest well, Lord Griffin.” Saber said. “My men and I will keep you safe, both you and your dreams.”

He heard the Servant exit the van and shut the door. Normally, Griffin was still paranoid sleeping out in the open like this, even with the door’s locked, but today felt different. Then again, not everyone had some badass samurai and his retinue of three hundred ninja to protect them.

As his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, Griffin fell asleep, and he fell into the warm embrace of his dreams where his mother and father still lived, and a place where he wished he could live as well.

#fate grand order #fgo #fgo oc #fate oc #master oc #Fate/Memoriam #writing #my fic #long fic #Griffin Fogarty #I love Griffin with all my heart #I did not realize it would be this long y'all I'm sorry

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vernahateclub · 10 months ago

Text

All post-wedding dialogue

I married Amirah and here are all the NPC lines after the wedding sequence

(captured during EA, might have changed since then. Also no Haru/Logan)

Andy: Nice shindig, Builder. Course, if it was me; organ music is a bit corny. I woulda done rock guitars! Twenty minute drum solo between vows! Dancers explode out of the cake, they're wearing- wait a sec, am I seriously talkin' about my own wedding right now? Get it together, Andy. Get it together...

Arvio: Anyone who doesn't believe in true love... well, it's a pity they missed this ceremony! Even one with a heart of stone would have melted after hearing your wedding vows...

Banjo: Meow!

Burgess: "Though you met in darkness, your souls are on in the Light..." Pretty good, huh! Heh, well. Not mine. Deacon of Meidi! But it totally reminded me of you two! You shine brighter than like... all the stars combined!

Catori: If your marriage was a business, I'd invest every last penny! Here's to wishing you many years of happiness.

Coco: Coo! Coo!

Cooper: Welcome to the club, builder! The marriage club! Now, it's not an official organization. We don't have membership cards. I mean, we have marriage licenses, which, I reckon for all intents and purposes could suffice as a membership card, but, well, to me that just wouldn't feel right. First thing you're gonna wanna get straightened out in your marriage is who sleeps on which side of the bed... (you realize there has probably never been a better time to slowly back away.)

Dan-bi: Congratulations, congratulations! And now, as this monumentous ceremony nears its close: time to get down to business... that's right, I'm talkin' about babies, baby! Good chance our kids'll be the same age... then they can have a best friend right out the gates! Well... you think about it...!

Deputy Captain: Meow meow!

Elsie: So what was it like standin' up there? Was it more... beauty of this miracle called life? Or more... Warmth of the Bright Sun in the form of finding true love amongst those closest to you? Ooh, I can tell the way you're lookin' at me, it's both!

Ernest: If I ever need to write about the perfect wedding, I'll always be able to draw upon this moment for inspiration. Congratulations, Builder

Fang: I pray for you to be forever... as two swans

Grace: You're going to have to give the rest of us dating advice at some point, Builder. It's not easy to bag a keeper like you did, eh?

Heidi: What a wonderful ceremony... Hey, extended family means expanded homestead, am I right! Just come by Construction Junction anyti- oh, shoot, I just did an ad spot at your wedding. Sorry! And congratulations again!

Hugo: Nothin' like a good start as a good omen for a happy marriage. Steer the course, Builder. You've got this.

Jasmine: Your wedding has been super fun, Builder! I love the flowers, too! I just wish there was someone here taking pictures... maybe that's what I'll do when I grow up; take pictures at weddings. Then you can relive this moment anytime you want!

Jensen: Hey, with this wonderful ceremony coming to an end, it's time to start thinking about your honeymoon! Why not take a train to Lucien! I hear it's nice this time of year.

Justice: Dang, Builder, you're a lover and a fighter! Not many people get to say that! Hence... you know, the whole nature of the phrase revolving around the idea that one must choose one or the other...

Krystal: Ah, shoot... I was really hopin' we could have someone from the Salvage Co. Who could make it through the ceremony without cryin' but... aw, here it goes...! Waaahhh!

Mabel: Oh, Builder. You two are like peas in a pod. Like bread and butter. A real match made in heaven! Oh... I can hardly contain myself...!

Macchiato: Meow!

Matilda: I must say, in all my years, I have never read for a more earnest and unwavering couple. I wish you the best, but can say you hardly need any thoughts or prayers; your love is one that will surely last a lifetime.

Meerkat: Squeak! Squeak squeak!

Mi-an: You two look amazing together! And just think, all of this started with you hopping off that train platform oh so long ago... we've come so far and built so much... some of us building even... relationships!

Miguel: Keep your wedding vows, Builder. Take them home, put them somewhere safe. If ever things are hard, look at them again and try to recall the splendor of this moment. Congratulations.

Mort: Congratulations, Builder. You know, I always say my greatest achievement was convincing Martle to marry me. I wish you two the same happiness.

Nemo: Ruff! Ruff ruff!

Owen: Whew... I said I wasn't gonna cry... Oh, who am I kiddin', here come the waterworks... wahhh...! You two... are just so beautiful together... sniff...

Pablo: Love the outfits! You two match in just about every way possible! Seeing you two... oh... it makes me want to almost think about maybe considering having thoughts about one day... thinking about getting married.

Pebbles: Marry! Marry! Marry! When my ma and my pa gon get married...?!

Pen: Heyyy, you actually went through with it! I was kinda hoping to see someone get left at the altar, but... this while 'magical moment' thing kinda works, too. Congratulations!

Qi: Excellent work, Builder. Though, new to the sport, I'm quite confident that you're winning at wedding-having. I can honestly say I have never seen anyone so skilled at weddings before.

Rian: Hey! Me an' Dan-bi got married here, too! I guess not that much of a coincidence, it's the only place in town... but we've got that in common now and uh... I dunno, maybe gettin' married here is good luck or somethin'.

Rocky: Aw, man... I'm gettin' all warm and fuzzy inside... I... nah, Riast, I ain't cryin'... I'm just... talkin' in a really high voice for some reason...! Congratulations...!

Trudy: The family is the foundation of our society. It makes me proud to see someone like you putting down roots in our humble town. I'll keep trying to make our town a better place for you and your loved ones!

Unsuur: Wow, this wedding is great. You should get married every day.

Venti: I was clapping for you guys so much my hands hurt. Clap clap clap. Ow!

Vivi: I am just so glad with how the attire turned out, you two look absolutely to die for. Riast, it really has been an honor to be here and to be able to contribute on your special day. Congratulations! Now go and enjoy yourself, your grandma said so!

X: I want a brother! I want a sister! More birdies! More birdies!

Yan: Heyyy there newbie! Thanks again for the invite! Say, you're out of shrimp cocktails. And those tiny hotdogs. Aaaand... well, pretty much all of the hors d'oeuvres; I stuffed 'em all in my pants for later! So yeah, very happy for you la dee da dee da, go get us a re-up on those hors d'oeuvres! I'm starvin'!

Zeke: I used to be the guy to pronounce couples. Saw a lot of 'em stick together, a lot of 'em fall apart. Sometimes, only way to know if a shoe fits is to slip it on. Here's hopin' to many comfy walks for ya, Builder.

(I don't know what Amirah says as a wedding guest, but here's what she says as a bride)

Amirah: My only regret is that this moment couldn't have come sooner. Today, I feel our love emboldened by a new spark... I love you more than I ever thought possible, Builder. Thank you for this day..

#mtas #mtas spoilers

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