#anyway that’s not even everything but if i listed everything we’d be here all day so

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 30 “Gross The Line” [Episode List] After Dave rips a couple of his well-known huge farts on his face, Tim finds the guts to ask his gassy bro something...

POV: Tim

Gross The Line

This Friday night we had no plans (once you’re past 30, this is usually considered a win).

Both me and Dave, after a tough week of work, decided to stay at home and apparently our buds had the same idea as no one wanted to do anything. To be completely honest, Dave did have something resembling a plan for tonight: Dana, his girlfriend, was coming here for the weekend, nothing new by a long shot, but Dave still wanted to give our small house what passes for a “cleaning session”.

To be fair, both me and Dave know how to manage this sort of stuff, with Dave actually being much more organised than he seems. 

Each day of this past week, we decided to do our chores after we were done working.

Speaking of which, since I worked from home, I was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, while my roommate sported his usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue, almost grey, loose sagging jeans.

After doing the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom (on different days, nonetheless), we’re now cleaning his bedroom: we made the (king-sized) bed, sorted Dave’s wardrobe a bit, all that kind of stuff we had to do regardless of our guests anyway (and Dana was very chill anyway). 

We kind of lost rack of time, but given we started right after we finished working, it was around 6:30 PM, late-ish afternoon basically.

“We still got plenty of time.” I remarked, while folding a t-shirt.

“Yep.” Dave replied. “We could make a mess and still have time to clean up, if you know what I mean.” he winked at me, glancing at his king-sized bed.

“Well, you are pretty fast.” I made fun of him.

His response was a pair of socks harmlessly hitting my face.

“I see you’re done with those.” I sarcastically said as I picked them up.

“Yeah, the wardrobe’s pretty much done, thanks.” he said, as I handed the last t-shirt to him.

Honestly, we did a pretty good job. This wasn’t the first time we did this kind of stuff at all, but I was impressed by how fast we got things done this time.

“Let’s make this last.” I stated, admiring how clean the room was.

Dave stood next to me, arms crossed. “Yep. It smells good, even!”

“Yes it doe- I can’t believe I fell for it.”

My friend just casually ripped a monstrously loud 3 second fart, the sound easily silencing my voice. He winked at me again, with a smug smile, knowing very well that, well, I appreciated.

“Please don’t ruin everything we’ve done.” I jokingly begged him.

“Hey!” he stated, faking an assertive tone. “My bedroom, my rules.”

A moment of silence, then I heard him sniffing the air around him.

“But yeah…” he admitted, trying not to laugh. “That was terrible.”

The stench reached both of our nostrils and, believe it or not, it was bad. Yes, I have a fart kink, but some things can be too much to handle even for me, and to be honest I’m here more for the amazing loud sounds.

Dave opened the window just a bit so the bedroom won’t stink like rotten meat when Dana steps in later.

“Unless your ass has more things to say, that should be enough.” I said, looking at him and the window.

My bro shook his head in response and laughed a bit.

“Dude if you want to hear more farts you can just ask for it ya know.” He casually said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You know I don’t care.” he then added, as he walked past me to check his phone on the bed, again so casually it almost confused me. Was he being sarcastic or not?

A moment of silence, as I needed a moment to understand what he meant.

Again, I do have a fart kink but… I wasn’t asking for anything. Hell, even though it’s been more than a year since he found out and accepted me, I never ever even had the guts to properly ask him for, well, a “fart session”, because at this point that’s what often happens between us. We’d go days or even weeks without face-farting (even though I’d hear him farting A LOT, either to tease me or just randomly like bros do), then Dave would just straight-up “bully” me by being the most amazing and open-minded straight gassy bro in the world. 

A blessing and a curse at the same time.

“I wasn’t asking for anything.” I stated.

Dave snorted and smiled, eyes glued on the phone. “Yeah… sure.”

I admit I felt a bit… am I in the position to say ‘offended’? 

I… I don’t want him to think that he’s my bro because of, well, this kinky stuff. 

I stepped closer to him. “Again: I wasn’t asking.”

“Dude.” he looked up to me. “It’s fine. We’re good.” he laughed.

A few moments of silence, interrupted by my friend’s tapping on his phone. I didn’t like this atmosphere. Was I being an asshole? Dave was just being… so casually open-minded about my gross kink and that’s how I thank him? By thinking ill of him?

He doesn’t care… and yet some times I almost wish that he’d did.

Maybe I just like drama?

I decided to break the tension (which wasn’t even there, but anxiety took me over quickly).

“Well… what if I was asking… not that I was…” I tried to say.

Dave’s only response was just turning to me again, listening with a bored, yet amused-ish look on his face.

“I’d never ask you.” I finally said, after stuttering a bit more.

My friend shook his head again, amused by my response.

“Okay… thanks for sharing. Very interesting.” he said, sarcastically.

I took a deep breath. “I’d never ask because...”

Dave narrowed his eyes and interrupted me with the muffled sound of another loud fart, another quick thunder, lasting “only” 5 seconds. Despite having his denim, sagging ass glued to the bed, the roar could still be heard clearly. At least the stench was trapped there… for the most part.

“Good one.” I tried to joke. Then went back to being a stuttering idiot. “I’d never ask because…”

My friend interrupted me again, this time by standing up and stepping towards me, looking annoyed but still weirdly amused.

“Yes yes because you don’t want me to think that we’re bros only because you’re a kinky bastard and I just happen to be the fart king, right? Is this what you’re trying to say? Is that correct?”

I just remained silent and took a deep breath… inhaling some of the stench that used to be trapped under Dave’s ass.

“Bro I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he laughed. “I do appreciate that you don’t ask.” he admitted “But… that won’t stop me from destroying your face.” 

That… that didn’t go into the direction I thought it would.

“Sorry.” I simply said.

Dave just laughed at how… needlessly stupid I was being.

“Alright. Looks like we’re gonna make a mess after all.” 

He stared at me with a smirk. He then quickly grabbed my arms and tripped me over so I could fell on his bed.

“Bro, it’s fine, sorry I sai-“ I tried to say, actually trying not to laugh.

“Hey, my bedroom, my rules.” he remarked, stepping on the bed, easily towering over me.

He took a few steps and after I ended up with my head between his feet, he made sure to align his sagging ass with my face, so he could squat down and just use my nose as a pillow to rest his ass on.

The denim was rough and beautiful to look at, the seams and textures of his jeans tickling my face. I took a deep whiff and I could smell the stench of his previous farts. Since he was sagging, my nose also brushed against his red sweaty underwear, the only thing between my nose and his powerful anus.

After a few seconds of silence, he stopped moving and ripped a huge blast, up close and personal, down my throat. Damn, today his ass likes being louder than usual, with the blast almost making me go deaf. It was probably as loud as the previous ones, but since I was with my nose planted into the source of that fart this time, it felt way louder. 

It certainly was longer though, this one lasting about 9 seconds before stopping.

He didn’t move for a few seconds, the only reason being to give me time to, well, properly enjoy the stench, which again I did, but the sounds of Dave’s farts was the main event for me every time he blasted me. I’ll never get used to it, to all of this, to his blasts, to him being so casual and open-minded about my kink.

After a few seconds, he leaned back and spread his legs a bit, still having his ass planted on my face. He did that so he could stare down at me, at the victim of his flatulence, at what remained of my sweaty face.

He was laughing, still sporting that evil smirk.

“I knew you weren’t asking by the way.” he said, and the bastard winked at me one more time.

Before I could say something in return, most likely an insult, my head shook as he ripped yet another blast. He closed his eyes as he kept pushing, as he let his ass roar all over my face; and the fact that I could see him do that, that I could stare right into his eyes as he farted, all while my nostrils were burning, further hardened by boner. 

He sighed in relief and looked down to me one more ime after the 7 seconds blast ended. He then leaned back a bit more, now fully lying on his bed, legs up, with my face still in front of his sagging denim. 

Oddly enough, we remained like that for a couple of dozens of seconds, until my straight bro talked to me. I couldn’t see his face this time: I was too startled to talk, to process how how that was, and my eyes were glued on that smelly “wall” of sagging jeans in front of me, a “wall” that hid my friend’s face from my point of view.

“You alive, bro?” he jokingly asked.

“Sadly, yes.” my deadpan answer.

Dave laughed at my response.

“No worries, I’m brewing a big one that’s gonna kill ya for good.” 

The friendliest, yet hottest threat I ever received.

“Ready?” he then asked.

How did such a simple word become so hot to me is a mystery; but being something that Dave would often say before unleashing some of the loudest, most powerful farts I ever heard certainly didn’t help.

In hindsight, that’s not a mystery at all…

Either way, my answer to his question was another question, and I mustered all the courage I had to actually speak.

“Dave… can I ask you something?” Though it was my boner doing the talk now I’m afraid.

“Sure.” he quickly responded, surprisingly enough.

A few moments of silence, my heart racing fast. I took deep breaths, accidentally inhaling more of the polluted air around me. I was nervous, I was sweating.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I’m just gonna let my ass speak then.” another hot threat from my bro.

“Okay wait.” I finally said. 

I still couldn’t see my friend’s face as I was resting my head in front of his ass, which covered most most of my view.

“For your next… fart…” I managed to say.

“Yes…?” he said, in a very amusing formal tone of voice.

 “Can you…” I took a deep breath. “Can you, like…”

Dave laughed at me stuttering like an idiot, but I kept going.

“Can you hold my head into your ass?”

First response: silence.

Moments of silence, moments that to me lasted hours.

I did it, I crossed the line. 

I fucked up.

I betrayed my straight bro’s trust by going too far.

He’s Dave, a straight, open-minded friend that accepted my kink and yet I couldn’t help but let my thirst take the wheel, ruining everything.

It doesn’t help that he did hold my head still into his ass as he face-farted me other times in the past, but downright asking him to do it… I’m already regretting it.

That’s too gross.

Then, I felt it.

I just felt it.

I felt his left hand grabbing my head; he raised his left leg and leaned a bit, so he could properly fulfil my request. With a firm grasp, he planted my defenceless, sweaty face straight up into his sagging, smelly denim ass, holding me still, making sure I couldn’t move.

“Wow. You are a kinky bastard after all.” He said. “Just like I’m the fart king” he snickered.

I tried to speak, but talking while your moth is constantly “kissing” your gassy friend’s ass is a bit difficult, yet Dave kind of understood what I was trying to say. He knows me, after all.

“Bro…” He pushed my head even more, my nose almost going through the red fabric of his underwear and right between his asscheeks. “The only thing you should be afraid of is getting exactly what you wish for.”

Another one of those hot threats. Is he doing that on purpose? 

A moment of silence followed… the silence before the storm.

“Ready?”

That was a rhetorical question.

The earthquake that struck my face was as loud as it was powerful. My friend’s ass roared straight into my nostrils and mouth, with Dave making sure my face was glued to his powerful anus, right where it belonged (not that I wanted to move anyway).

The deep, chainsaw-like noise shook the the whole bedroom, and for a moment I thought of the stench that basically ruined all of our hard work of cleaning things up, but my bro cared even less than me about that, as his ass kept screaming at my face, my nose gently brushing between his denim and his underwear. 

My nostrils were burning, my eyes got wet.

On paper, this was nothing new for me: Dave farts in my face very often, even holding my head still like he’s doing now. However… the fact that he did it because I found the guts to ask for it made pre-cum erupt from the tip of my cock (I guess I’m the fast one then) which at this point I assume my bro knows about.

Even though I had my entire face glued to his denim ass, I still managed to get a good look of it and as my face kept getting blasted, I once again realized how lucky I was to have a friend like him. 

Dave had it all: he’s smart, he’s tall, good-looking, funny and, as he put it a few moments ago, he casually happens to be the fart king, and the fact that I have the… I’d say the privilege to get constantly face-farted by him, to admire his ass this up close and personal, was more than I could’ve ever hoped for.

That good-looking guy you saw across the street? Well, he’s actually my bro… and he’s farting in my face.

12 seconds and the fart finally started to lose some of its power. He could rip longer farts than this, natural and/or on command (this time it was all natural, like 99% of the times), which was already impressively long, but given the context this was probably the hottest one he ever ripped all over my face.

After he was done, he simply let me go, or rather, let my head fall as I was completely stunned by what just hit me. I admired that sagging denim ass in front of me a bit more, still engulfed by an invisible cloud of gas.

“Anything else you wanna ask?” he joked, teasing me on purpose.

“Maybe I’ll just ask you to stop.” I played along, though I was being serious.

“Good choice” Dave said, a quick, loud 2-seconds fart following his response.

I managed to stand up, fighting the urge to plant my face into his ass again to properly enjoy that last rip. 

I was feeling all dizzy for all the gas and, well, the massive boner I had.

Dave remained on the bed, sitting, as if nothing gross and kinky happened, reaching for his phone again to check some messages.

The bedroom, no gentle way to put this, smelt like ass because of my friend’s massive farts.

“Welp, much like you, Dana’s coming.” Dave casually commented, eyes on his phone.

“You do realize that this room smells like ass, right?” I told him, ignoring the insult.

“Hey. Not my fault. You asked for it, not me.” he said, with a smirk.

Once again, he proved to me that he just doesn’t care. 

I’m gross and disgusting and while my bro is very aware of the kink… the idea of torturing me is just weirdly amusing to him.

I don’t know why, but that’s how it works.

His bedroom, his rules after all.

The End

[cimerran-714]

Well, as many people love to claim that Ron's not at fault for abandoning the Trio in Deathly Hallows (some Ron stans instead prefer to shift the blame to Harry instead by reading things out of context), I thought I'd analyze the entire scene here.

So, to start with, I really like Ron. But I do not think that you have to excuse everything a character does in order to like him. Now, Ron fans would probably just claim that I am lying about liking Ron, but I don't care about that.

Let's get started, shall we?

“So, would he have hidden the sword well away from Hogsmeade then? What d’you reckon, Ron? Ron?” Harry looked around. For one bewildered moment he thought that Ron had left the tent, then realized that Ron was lying in the shadow of a lower bunk, looking stony. “Oh, remembered me, have you?” he said.

Okay, so it begins with Harry looking for Ron, and he notices him lying next to a bunk "looking stony". He makes a comment asking whether Harry's remembered him.

Now, how does Harry respond to that?

"What?” Ron snorted as he started up at the underside of the upper bunk. “You two carry on. Don’t let me spoil your fun.” Perplexed, Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she shook her head, apparently as nonplussed as he was. “What’s the problem?” asked Harry.

Harry's understandably confused. He says "What?" and then exchanges a look with Hermione, who's similarly perplexed. And then, Harry asks him again what the problem was. He just says "What's the problem?" and nothing else.

“Problem? There’s no problem,” said Ron, still refusing to look at Harry. “Not according to you, anyway.” There were several plunks on the canvas over their heads. It had started to rain. “Well, you’ve obviously got a problem,” said Harry. “Spit it out, will you?

Ron refuses to elaborate & just says that according to Harry, there's no problem. Harry replies by asking him to "spit out". Well, that maybe he considered rude, but how would you even respond to it? They were discussing Horcruxes & Ron's talking about how the others "remembered" him now, that Harry shouldn't let him "spoil their fun", and that Harry doesn't think there's a problem.

Considering the context, it's a valid thing to say.

Ron swung his long legs off the bed and sat up. He looked mean, unlike himself. “All right, I’ll spit it out. Don’t expect me to skip up and down the tent because there’s some other damn thing we’ve got to find. Just add it to the list of stuff you don’t know.” “I don’t know?” repeated Harry. “I don’t know?”

Ron looks unlike his usual self as he then implies that he doesn't care about what they had found out, and that it's Harry's fault. That's why Harry repeated the same thing. He was just surprised and shocked.

Plunk, plunk, plunk. The rain was falling harder and heavier; it pattered on the leaf-strewn bank all around them and into the river chattering through the dark. Dread doused Harry’s jubilation. Ron was saying exactly what he had suspected and feared him to be thinking. “It’s not like I’m not having the time of my life here,” said Ron, “you know, with my arm mangled and nothing to eat and freezing my backside off every night. I just hoped, you know, after we’d been running round a few weeks, we’d have achieved something.

Ron talks about how the Horcrux hunting wasn't similar to his expectations.

Again, Harry responded calmly:

"I thought you knew what you’d signed up for,” said Harry. “Yeah, I thought I did too.” “So what part of it isn’t living up to expectations?” asked Harry. Anger was coming to his defense now. “Did you think we’d be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you’d be back to Mummy by Christmas?"

For Harry using the phrase "back to Mummy", remember that Ron agreed to come to help even though Harry said that they shouldn't, and now he's upset that it's not working out & is sulking. Anyone would have gotten angry. Seriously, Ron just makes it sound as if Harry forced him to come along.

"We thought you knew what you were doing!” shouted Ron, standing up, and his words pierced Harry like scalding knives. “We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!” “Ron!” said Hermione, this time clearly audible over the rain thundering on the tent roof, but again, he ignored her. “Well, sorry to let you down,” said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. “I’ve been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve found on Horcrux—”

Ron's words are scathing, but remarkably, Harry is STILL calm in his response. He's composing himself as he explains to Ron that he did tell them everything that he knew.

"Yeah, and we’re about as near getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them—nowhere effing near in other words.” “Take off the locket, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice unusually high. “Please take it off. You wouldn’t be talking like this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day.” “Yeah, he would,” said Harry, who did not want excuses made for Ron. “D’you think I haven’t noticed the two of you whispering behind my back? D’you think I didn’t guess you were thinking this stuff?"

Well, Hermione IS being unfair by blaming it on the locket. We do know that Ron left even after he removed the locket, and like Harry said, they were whispering behind his back.

Further on:

"Harry we weren’t—” “Don’t lie!” Ron hurled at her. “You said it too, you said you were disappointed, you said you’d thought he had a bit more to go on than—” “I didn’t say it like that—Harry, I didn’t!” she cried. The rain was pounding the tent, tears were pouring down Her- mione’s face, and the excitement of a few minutes before had van- ished as if it had never been, a short-lived firework that had flared and died, leaving everything dark, wet, and cold. The sword of Gryffindor was hidden they knew not where, and they were three teenagers in a tent whose only achievement was not, yet, to be dead. “So why are you still here?” Harry asked Ron. “Search me,” said Ron.

Read the last part. Harry asks him why he's still there and Ron replies by saying that he doesn't know. THAT is when Harry asks him to leave; Ron made it clear that he does not even want to remain there any more.

Remarkably, Harry is STILL replying calmly when he asks him to go home.

"Go home then,” said Harry. “Yeah, maybe I will!” shouted Ron, and he took several steps toward Harry, who did not back away. “Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-Faced-Worse Potter doesn’t care what happens to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spider and mental stuff—”

Ron talks about how Harry doesn't care about what happens to Ginny.

And incredibly, Harry is STILL calm.

“I was only saying—she was with the others, they were with Hagrid—” “Yeah, I get it, you don’t care! And what about the rest of my family, the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured, did you hear that?” “Yeah, I—” “Not bothered what it meant, though?”

“Not bothered what it meant, though?” “Ron!” said Hermione, forcing her way between them. “I don’t think it means anything new has happened, anything we don’t know about: think, Ron, Bill’s already scarred; plenty of people must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you’re supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I’m sure that’s all he meant—” “Oh, you’re sure, are you? Right then, well, I won’t bother myself about them. It’s all right for you two, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way—” “My parents are dead !” Harry bellowed

There you go. Ron insults Harry's parents greatly by talking about how his parents are "safely out of the way". At this point, Harry, who has been remarkably calm overall, loses his temper.

Honestly, you know what happens after that. Harry responds to him by asking him to essentially fuck off, and Ron begins to escalate it physically and attack Harry (a fight was averted by Hermione's shield charm).

And then Ron left even AFTER having removed the locket. Don't blame it on the locket, it's a weak excuse.

So, to summarize:

Ron started the argument.

Harry replies in a mostly calm manner.

Ron insults Harry's dead parents upon which the latter finally loses his temper.

Ron leaves after removing the locket.

Yeah, sorry, I am still 100% going to blame Ron here.

[feralbutfluffy]

Interstitial: The Library of Alexandria

Instead of a chapter, today there's a one-shot inspired by chapter 59.

********************

Crowley watched Aziraphale as he ran his finger lightly over the scrolls, looking for something in particular. He didn’t ask what it was he was searching for. 

He didn’t really care. 

He sat on the floor, ignoring whatever was digging into his shoulder. Something old and terrifyingly valuable, no doubt. 

He sighed and took a swig from the jar of wine in his hand. “You going to be much longer?”

Aziraphale frowned at him. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”

Crowley grumbled something indecipherable and took another swig.

“It wouldn’t kill you to help, you know,” Aziraphale said, irritation clipping his words. “We’d be finished quicker if you would just-”

“You’d be finished quicker,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale glared at him from underneath his eyelashes. “Well, yes, but it hardly signifies. It comes down to the same thing, surely? The sooner I find the scroll the sooner we can break for lunch.”

“I fail to see the incentive. I’ll remind you that you’re the one who’s been banging on about that fish thing since we ran into each other this morning.”

“Be that as it may-”

“Anyway, helping you would be against my job description, wouldn’t you say?” Crowley crinkled his nose. “Bit unprincipled from a demonic perspective, to be helping your lot with… whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I assure you this is entirely personal,” sniffed Aziraphale.

“Be that as it may…” imitated Crowley, his tone entirely mocking.

Aziraphale shot him an annoyed look and crouched to examine the shelves at Crowley’s feet. 

Crowley took another swig and let out a deeply contented sigh. There was nothing like needling the angel to brighten his day. He let his shoulders fall back against the scrolls, enjoying the satisfyingly soft crunch of crumpling papyrus and the equally satisfying look of horror on the angel’s face at the sound.

“Crawley!” He hissed, sounding appalled. If they hadn’t been in a library Crowley imagined it would probably have been an indignant shout.

“It’s Crowley now,” he reminded him blandly.

Aziraphale hurried to his side, placing a hand against the dip at the base of his spine and sliding it up to his shoulders, neatly pulling him forward and away from the damaged scrolls behind him.

“You can’t do that! These scrolls are invaluable!”

Crowley ignored the strange prickling heat he felt at the angel’s touch.

“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at them yet, they could be…” he scrambled, “... a painstaking account of someone’s dreams! Or the ramblings of a madman! Honestly, look at this place, it’s packed to the gills with scrolls. They can’t all be important.”

“This is the finest collection of written material in the world, Craw- Crowley. Of course they’re all important!” Aziraphale was still supporting Crowley’s back with one arm as the fingers of the other smoothed out the creases in the scrolls behind him. 

Crowley gave no sign of intending to support his own body weight.

“Move,” Aziraphale said commandingly, shoving him upright. Crowley bounced forward, head falling against his chest, looking like a puppet with cut strings. He sat like that for a moment, listing forward, as he listened to the soothing sound of the angel putting everything to right. He wondered if Aziraphale might touch him again if he lay back and crumpled more scrolls.

He might.

Or he might discorporate him for crimes against papyrus.

He put the jar to his lips and drank deeply. Wine. What a marvellous discovery. It was the only good thing to come out of that whole mess with Noah. The rainbow- 

Well, the rainbow was fine, he supposed. But the wine …!

Truthfully, he’d needed it to get over that atrocity. He couldn’t understand how Aziraphale had managed to take it so in stride. The cries, the bloated bodies, the smell… He shuddered and swallowed down a large gulp of wine.

“I know I’ve already told you-” started Aziraphale at the sound of the wine sloshing against the side of the jar. 

“Yes, yes, shouldn’t drink in the library-” mumbled Crowley, waving the jug in front of him at the same time as Aziraphale continued, “You really shouldn’t drink in the library. What if you spill it?”

Crowley tried to look offended. “As if I would! Nectar of the Gods, lest you forget,” he said pointing at the jar.

“There is only one God as you very well know,” said Aziraphale primly, kneeling to face Crowley. “I’d thank you to refrain from such blasphemy when you find yourself in my company.” He looked extremely disapproving, hands folded in his lap, a frown etched on his face as he eyed the jar in Crowley’s hand.

He could be so sanctimonious sometimes. It really was unbearable.

Continue reading....

[vintageshanny]

How Would It Feel?

This poem is very smutty and very loving. Me in a nutshell I suppose. It feels very vulnerable to post it, but here I go anyway. 18+

There are so many fantasies I have in my heart of all the ways I could make you feel pleasure

I know this confession might make you blush a bit, but my love and desire for you are too deep to measure

I long to undress you, memorize every inch of your body, tell you how perfect you are in my eyes

Kiss you quite literally from head to toe then back up to the treasure between your thighs

I’d give him all the attention he needs until he’s ready for what’s to come

That moment we’d both be anticipating when we could join our bodies as one

I’d lay back on the bed and pull you in for a kiss while I spread my legs open wide

I think our hearts would be pounding together while you reach down and start to guide yourself inside

As I open myself to you and you inch your way in, I know I’d feel so vulnerable and nervous

When you fill me completely with your beautiful manhood, I’d see in your eyes that tender reassurance

The sounds of our moans would fill the air, your sweet breath mixing with mine

To stare into your eyes while you experience such pleasure would be like seeing the stars align

Everything in its perfect place, you inside my body as you’re inside my heart

The pleasure would consume us both, pushing us toward that explosive part

The part where your warmth comes spilling out inside me while we moan each other’s names

How would it feel to know this passion with you, to know I’d never be the same?

To stare into your eyes, wiping the sweat from your brow, as we come down from that high and I feel your trembling body relax onto mine

“I love you” we’d both whisper in unison, reading each other’s minds

While I can’t have you right now in that physical sense

My love and longing for you is no less intense

I dream of one day giving you that passion, that physical pleasure

But even now, we know in our hearts that you’ve changed me forever.

Poetry tag list: @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @arrolyn1114 @elvisalltheway101 @xanatenshi @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Like Phil, I’d like to think that Jamie and Keeley still go to Brazil, in spite of the boys’ recent fuck-up, but I’d also like to think that Roy comes with them. Not because Jamie and Keeley can’t be friend on their own or wouldn’t have the best time doing Brazil together – they would! – but because I think Jamie might be conscious, given everything that’s gone down recently, of potentially upsetting what he currently perceives as a rather delicate balance.   

Maybe he brings it up a few days later before they head over to Keeley’s for a joint apology, or maybe it happens already at the holy kebab place, once they’ve had a few bites and a chance to settle back into their normal; a little worse for wear, but with no lasting harm done.

And Jamie fiddles with his sleeves and makes little faces as he tries to decide what to say (and Roy notices and waits with some trepidation) and in the end he just comes right out and says it, because that’s what Jamie does, isn’t it?

“I asked Keeley to go to Brazil with me, for that Nike thing I’m doing.”

Roy blinks. He hadn’t known Jamie was doing a Nike thing. Jamie might have told him, but Roy usually stops listening whenever he starts blathering on about brands and clothes and shit, so yeah, if told he hadn’t heard.

“What did she say?” he asks after a slightly too long and awkward moment of Jamie looking up at him, almost through his fucking eyelashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

“She said yes.” And hastily, as if worried what Roy might say or do if given a moment to, he adds: “I didn’t do it to try to get back together or anything. I mean, I do wanna get back together and she’s my friend and I love her and I thought we’d have a great time, yeah, but also, she’s great at PR and all that stuff, so. Yeah. That’s why I asked her to come. Make sure I don’t fuck it up.”

And because you want her to be your girlfriend. Roy doesn’t say it, though. Neither of them want a repeat of what went down at the bar. This isn’t Jamie trying to goad him or hurt him, he’s pretty fucking sure of that, so he’ll listen carefully to everything Jamie has to say, and then he’ll react like a fucking grown-up.

Probably. Possibly.

“Anyway, I think you should, like, come with us.”

Fucking what now? “What?”

“You should come with me and Keeley to Brazil.” Jamie is nodding his head decisively, as if repeating the statement has fully convinced him of its veracity.

“You want me to come with you and Keeley to fucking Brazil?” Roy is aware of sounding like a demented parrot, but he doesn’t give a fuck, does he, because he doesn’t want there to be any fucking room for misinterpretation here.

Jamie doesn’t seem particularly concerned about Roy’s tone. Too used to it, probably. “Um, yeah. Yeah. I mean, probably can’t get Nike to pay for it, right, but you’re rich, so you can just get your own ticket and you can stay with me and Keeley in this villa they’ll set us up in. Can’t mind that.”

Which all sounds very reasonable, of course, but still doesn’t answer the most pressing question:  “Why?”

Jamie makes a face. “What do you mean, why? Because I don’t want shit to be weird between us, mate. And I think it’d be weird if Keeley and I went away and you stayed here after what happened, you know. Besides,” he adds, and suddenly he looks slightly shy; younger than he actually is, and vulnerable, “It’d probably be fun, yeah? All three of us going, together. Because we’re friends and all.”

And there’s something sharp and jagged turning in Roy’s gut at that, because underneath Jamie’s claim there’s a note of uncertainty that Roy had no trouble whatsoever guessing the origin of, and he adds it to the long list of things he hates himself for.

He doesn’t know how to express any of that, so what he says is, “Yeah. I guess. I’ll think about it.”

Jamie’s grin is immediate and wide; relieved and triumphant in equal measure, like he’s already won – like he already knows for a fact that Roy’s going to say yes.

Roy can’t even find it in him to mind that the little prick is right.

And then they all go to Brazil and I’m currently thinking that nothing further really happened between them there, because apparently they all need to do a little more thinking and feeling and figuring themselves out, but I’m sure they still had a grand, grand time of it.

[hispanthicc]

I'm glad to hear you're feeling better now after your break up. I love guys like you whose weight gain has a direct landing in their bellies. Everything else on them is normal size, back, face, legs, feet, arms, hands. But when they turn around, there's this great big belly. Your watermelon belly looks astounding!

Well, I wouldn’t say that I feel better even though it was a few years ago. it was a 5 yr relationship and I was 100% planning to be with him for the rest of my life. Then he just threw me away lol. I’ll never get that time back and I still struggle with a lot of the harsh things he’s said to me and also a lot of his actions afterwards. In fact I got triggered a few days ago cuz I was going through my blocked list on a certain site and I saw him. His pfp pic was changed to a pic that showed his face. 1. I always had to beg him to send me a selfie. 2. He’s always been kinda ashamed of what he’s into and definitely was embarrassed to be seen with me or take pictures with me, especially in the end. So it kinda hurt my feelings I guess, but I’m just sensitive. I also feel terrible for even having any feelings about him at all but it takes a while to fully get over things. But he’s blocked on everything and I wish him the best. Every once in a while the photo cloud will show me a pic of him and I get triggered all over again. But at this point I’ve deleted everything.

I’ve mostly moved on and even my mom said that the best way to get over it and forget is to find someone else and that definitely was good advice. Unfortunately, though that hasn’t completely worked the way I would’ve liked and the past week has been a lot emotionally. I’ve been feeling lonely and horny, I’ve also just felt very left out. Some of it’s my fault cuz anxiety and sometimes just funds lol. I also suck at getting close to people. Abandonment issues or whatever. I also don’t just dive into anything it takes me a long time to just be like I’m okay and ready but I can’t and don’t expect anyone to wait for me to be ready and of course the consequence of that is they move on lol. Which is fine and dandy or whatever but I’m just experiencing a lot of emotions lately that I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to handle any of it.

Anyways gaining and focusing on my body has definitely helped a little cuz I do feel a little more confident sometimes. I lost a lot after the break up and that definitely made me hate myself but I also thought maybe he’d come back if I did but he said I didn’t match his aesthetic (LOL) but he didn’t come back in fact after he dumped me he went to London lol. Literally within weeks. Didn’t even tell me which I guess he didn’t have to in retrospect but he kinda led me on for months making me think we’d get back together. Idk I was ignoring a lot because I wanted to be with him so bad.

Anyways fast forward I went to a film festival in Canada which got me inspired by life again. Enrolled in grad school the following year. Finished the first year and here we are.

I think I noticed I started to gain again during my first semester back in school. Like one day I just woke up and I was bigger. I noticed it in my face write away. It’s kinda hard gaining on a student budget lol but I did the best I could.

I’m not like super big or anything but I’m more filled out all over. Most importantly though, I feel very cute and pretty.

Sorry for this long ass post I know you probably didn’t want to hear the personal stuff. But it’s the internet. The land of over sharing.

[ashleigghh]

Day 13- mistletoe. Jegulus, 433 words.

James Potter was a man known for his romantic tendencies. He had a love for love and that was made clear by his actions. For example, for Valentine's Day, he filled Regulus’ car with deep red Dahlias, despite preferring roses as a romantic gesture, simply because they were Regulus’ favourite. That wasn’t even all he did but if we listed everything we’d be here for a long time. 

So, it came as no surprise to anyone that he draped mistletoe all over their home during the festive season. Any place that could have something hung was adorned with mistletoe from the 1st December till whenever Regulus finally persuaded him to take it down (this usually came with a reassurance that James could kiss him anytime he wanted anyway)

During this time, James took full advantage of the rules, kissing Regulus under every piece.

“James,” Regulus laughed, leaning into yet another kiss, “I’m not going to get anything done at this rate,” James hummed, kissing him as they passed under another piece,

“That’s the plan.” The two of them are barely kissing at this point, smiling too much for it to count. James had put the mistletoe up today while Regulus was at work, and from the moment he came home, he had been trailed throughout their flat, barely able to take three steps without a kiss. 

“Honestly, they should let us spend the whole month like this,” James grabs Regulus’ face with both of his hands, the warmth bringing a blush to his skin, and leans their foreheads together, “Like for my health, I don’t think I’d survive without this.” 

“You’re very dramatic, you know that right, Potter?” James laughs gently, keeping their position, soaking in the moment 

“Back to last names, you wound me, Potter” They weren’t technically married yet, but James had taken to calling his boyfriend Regulus Potter, it meant he didn’t have to carry the weight of his memories as much and allowed James to get giddy with the love he felt for Regulus every time he said it. 

“I’m sure you’ll live,” James hums thoughtfully, his hands having moved down to Regulus’ waist, swaying them gently in the hall

“Maybe. If you kiss me,” 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because you love me,” You can tell by hearing James’ voice that he’s smiling, but Regulus has the pleasure of seeing how bright and beautiful he looks when he smiles.

“That I do,” Regulus responds, wrapping his arms behind James’ neck, and pulling him down to kiss him. They don’t even notice they’re not actually under any mistletoe.

[deanstead]

Murder Next Door || Part 3

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When one of Jay’s neighbours is found dead, both he and Y/N find themselves right smack in the middle of what could turn out to be a very dangerous situation.

Word Count: 3,321

Tags/Warnings: canon-typical mentions of murder, blood, idiots-in-love

A/N: A lot happens in this part but I decided not to drag it out and finish it up here! This was really meant to be a one-shot but I got carried away and wrote like 8k+ words so I just split it into three parts. Hope you guys have enjoyed this! Floored by the positive response to this!!! Hit me up and let me know what you think!

MINI SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Part 2

The timing of everything was hell, especially since they were right smack in the middle of a murder case. A murder case that you found yourself in the middle of. But even so, this silver lining was kind of a bright silver lining, so much so that you could almost forget about the looming threat.

Jay smiled at you as he put on his jacket.

“If anything happens, you call me.” Jay nagged.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine, Jay.”

He opened his mouth again but you stopped him. “I won’t open the door for anyone but you, Will or Intelligence.”

Jay smiled. “Glad to know you were paying attention.”

You didn’t answer, but you couldn’t anyway as Jay gave you a kiss. “I’ll call.”

Jay left the house in a considerably better mood than all the other days put together, and with a newfound determination that he was gonna find this guy no matter what he had to do to smoke him out.

Jay didn't even have time to take off his jacket at the district before he and Hailey were on the move based off of the new information they had - they’d tracked the burner phones back down to the stores and although there were some CCTV images, they weren’t enough for facial recognition. Despite that, one of the store owners remembered that the guy who had come in to get one of the burner phones on the list had used a credit card for a different purchase.

Jay glanced at Hailey, rapping on the door.

“Hi, Ms. Austin? We're looking for your father, Freddie Austin? We’d like to talk to him.” Jay said, raising his badge that rested around his neck.

The young lady who opened the door frowned. “What’s this about?”

Hailey spoke this time, with a smile. “We found some charges on his credit card that we’d like to find out more about. We just need his help, and probably yours.”

The woman frowned but stepped back to let the both of them in, anyway.

Freddie Austin was seated in a wheelchair, looking like it would take a toll on him just to leave the house, much less visit different stores to buy several burner phones.

Jay didn't say anything, Hailey naturally taking lead in the questioning. “So we tracked the purchase of several burner phones to a credit card in your father’s name. Can you take a look at this?”

Hailey handed over the slip to Freddie’s daughter and her eyes moved swiftly over the page before she nodded. “Yeah, I was going to cancel it but then I ended up using it for his daily expenses, groceries and stuff you know? I pay the bills anyway, so it’s still an active card. But I don’t even know where to buy a burner phone, there must be some mistake.”

Jay leaned forward this time. “Is there anyone else who has access to his card?”

There was a pause before she answered. “Yes… I brought in a caretaker recently. You know, one of those nurses that help with the elderly? Mainly for the times that I have to be at work.”

Jay nodded. “We need his information.”

On the way back now.

You sent the message to Jay, slipping your phone back into your pocket and glancing up at the darkening sky.

The meeting wasn’t supposed to have taken this long. In other words, you’d completely underestimated the time it would take, completely forgetting your editor was going to be there.

You pulled your jacket around you, quickening your footsteps just so you could make it out of the cold. Based on Jay’s last text, you figured he’d probably be home before you.

The rustling of bushes behind you made you turn just a little.

You’d been feeling like you had eyes on you for the most part of the day but you’d chalked it down to being a little paranoid in the daytime. But you weren’t sure you wanted to take any chances especially since it was getting dark.

It was the sound of footsteps next, shuffling footsteps which matched your speed, no matter if you went faster or slowed down. Now, you really were a little freaked.

You could feel your heart pounding against your chest and you wouldn’t be surprised if people on the street could hear it. Not that there was anyone around to confirm your theory.

You took one last glance behind you, barely registering the man behind you, his face hidden from view with a black cap, a mask over the bottom half of his face, his hands stuffed inside his pockets.

You turned back around quickly, glancing up to zero in on Jay’s building, mentally running your mind through what would happen if you started running.

Then you heard him start moving quicker.

You had no more time to think.

Slinging your bag across your shoulders more securely, you took off at a run, pumping your legs as hard as you could while reaching into your coat pocket for your bag so you could speed dial Jay’s number.

Focus, Y/N.

You weren’t sure if your call had connected but you took the steps up to the main door twice at a time, your fingers fumbling across the keypad that unlocked the door, panic really setting in when there was a beep indicating you’d keyed in the wrong code.

“Fuck.” You muttered, hearing the footsteps behind you sound like they were catching up with you.

You didn’t waste time, keying in the numbers again, hearing the door finally unlock with a click. You made it through, kicking the door closed with your foot and taking off towards the staircase, barely hearing the lock click behind you.

Even that didn’t stop you, as you reminded yourself that the last time someone had come in dressed as a police officer, you hadn’t beeped anyone in. Maybe he really had the code to the building, so you weren’t going to take any chances.

You stumbled up the stairs, hearing someone behind you, although you no longer knew if you were imagining it but you were too afraid to take a look.

You winced as you tripped, the impact of your knee hitting the floor buzzing through you but you scrambled back up to your feet and moved. The door to Jay’s corridor was right there and you pushed your way through it, colliding straight into someone, yelping in surprise.

“Y/N?”

Not anyone, your someone.

“Jay… someone…”

“What…” Jay glanced up behind you, noticing just a shadow that turned tail.

“Hey!” Jay yelled.

He looked down at you. “Get in the apartment now.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue. As Jay headed for the staircase, following whoever had been right behind you, you made the last lap to Jay’s apartment, closing the door behind you before you finally sank to the ground.

Jay put in a call to Voight while he was still on the street, glancing up and down.

“He put someone on her. I’m going to kill him.” Jay growled into the phone.

Adam and Kim had brought Freddie Austin’s caretaker in and he’d been in the interrogation room when Jay had left to check in on you. Voight assured Jay that they were handling it before Jay hung up.

But when Jay got back upstairs and opened the door quietly, you were out of sight.

“Y/N?” Jay called, stepping further into his apartment.

He was greeted by a moment of silence before he heard your voice. “Jay?”

You crawled out from behind the kitchen counter and Jay exhaled in relief, nodding. “Yeah it’s just me. It’s okay.”

Finally feeling like you could breathe again, you got up unsteadily as Jay met you halfway, enveloping you into his arms.

As you felt his arms go around you, your knees gave way along with the dip in your adrenaline but Jay pressed you against him securely. “Alright, come here.” Jay whispered.

Jay led you gently to the couch, before you even realized you were already crying, the leftover adrenaline pouring out of you.

Jay didn’t say anything, just held you tightly against him, one hand protectively resting on the back of your neck.

When you felt all cried out, you angled your head upwards to look at Jay, who glanced down at you. Despite everything, you felt this warmth as you lay there, huddled into Jay’s side. “Sorry.” You whispered.

Jay’s eyebrows met in the middle again. “What are you apologizing for?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and he tapped your cheek. “Stop that.”

“What are you thinking?”

You smiled back at him. “Thank god I’m in love with my best friend and that he loves me too.”

Jay stroked your cheek with this thumb gently, giving you a soft smile in return.

That night, Jay took out some of the frozen lasagnas just so you didn’t have to hear anyone knock the door and barely left your side, even going so far as to tuck you in that night.

As he got up, you reached out impulsively, catching a few of his fingers.

Jay turned to look at you but you didn’t say anything.

“Shall I stay?” Jay asked quietly.

Your eyes flicked up to his. “Can you?”

Jay smiled. “Always.”

So he climbed into bed with you, fitting himself right behind you so that you’d drift off to sleep, encircled by his arms and his warmth.

“Alright, we got a name.” Adam said, just as Jay walked in.

Afraid to get charged for anything more than petty larceny, the caregiver had finally spilled to Adam and Kevin, revealing that he’d indeed been the one to purchase the burner phones but he’d passed them on to someone he knew.

Jay took the document from Adam, scanning it closely, as Kevin quickly typed.

“Jay, I think this is it.” Kevin said, angling his screen towards Jay so he could get a better look.

Arthur Marsh.

“There’s one dropped complaint of stalking, that’s why the DNA didn’t turn up anything in the system but…” Kevin glanced up at Voight, prompting Jay to turn to look at their Sergeant too.

“Get the LKA and gear up.”

Kevin glanced back at Jay, who nodded.

“Chicago PD!” Kevin yelled, raising the battering ram and hitting it against the door, as it flew open.

Jay headed in first, Hailey right behind him, as the rest moved through the house.

Shouts of “Clear!” resounded through the house one by one from each member of the team, before Kim's voice called for their attention.

“Guys! You need to see this.”

Jay frowned, looking around the empty house once more before he headed to one of the rooms towards the back where Kim was.

“What do you…” He trailed off as his eyes took in the dozens of photos of Abbie littered around - the walls, the table, even near his bed. He could even see the pattern of thought through the photos. Far-off photos from when he’d been admiring her from afar, more close-ups as he got braver and then a photo of her with a guy which ended in rage - her face had been scratched off.

“Jay.” Hailey called, her voice somber.

Jay glanced around, feeling his heart fall to his gut at the stack of photos of you.

“Son of a bitch.” Jay growled. “He’s going after Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jay was out of there, getting into his truck alone and speeding off, not standing around to wait for anyone.

You were supposed to be halfway to Will’s by now but you’d gone a whole block away before you realized that you’d left the stuff for Will behind. You knew exactly where it was, which irritated you even more because you’d put it out to remind yourself and then walked right by it out of the apartment.

So you jogged up the remaining flight of stairs, diverting your mind from the memory of the night before and quickly entered Jay’s apartment.

It was a feeling that you had the moment you entered the apartment. Like something was off. But it was vague, so you just moved to reach over for the bag you’d left on the counter, lifting it and turning back towards the door.

You froze, as you saw him now, standing in front of you. In Jay’s apartment.

You felt the dread fill you, and you took a shaky step backwards. “Who…”

“I think you know.”

That voice sent chills across your body because you remembered it, like it was yesterday.

“Cold night, didn’t wanna have to dig around for my keys”

You stepped backwards, acutely aware it was taking you further into the apartment, but you didn't have much of a choice.

You could see his face clearly now as he stepped towards you, into the pool of moonlight that came in from the windows. Which could only mean he was here to do one thing.

You tightened your hold on the bag for just a second before you flung it at him, the weight of the cans of unopened beer and one bottle of wine hitting him with a thud and causing him to stagger backwards.

Taking that opportunity, you took off, thinking your best bet was to get to either yours or Jay’s room and lock it behind you.

You’d barely taken two steps when you felt him grab you, and you felt a sharp sting slice across your arm. You tried to sidestep him but he was faster, and stronger.

You felt strong hands grab you now, flinging your body against the wall to the side. The impact of your body hitting the wall winded you as you fell to the ground with a thud and you couldn’t catch your breath enough to move quicker.

He stepped up beside you. You smelt the leather off his shoes before you saw it, right in front of your face and you turned your face up to look at him, trying not to show fear.

“I always did like the feisty ones.” He said, dragging his words out, like he was confident he had all the time in the world.

He looked around, before he grabbed the one thing that was within reach that was heavy enough - a box that you knew for a fact was stuffed with case files.

You struggled to get up, the aches in your body protesting as he raised the box above you.

And, like he’d just appeared out of nowhere, Jay stepped in between the two of you, throwing a punch against the perp’s face. A punch that was hard enough to send him staggering, the box falling behind him and the case files scattering around the floor with a crash.

“Y/N, are you hurt?” Jay leaned over you now, his eyes scanning you.

“Jay…”

Jay let out a growl as he saw the slash across your upper arm but he had no more time as he heard the perp scrambling to his feet right behind him.

You saw the glint of silver in the perp's hand now as he charged towards Jay, the knife brandished in the air. You took a sharp inhale of breath, unable to even take your eyes off them now as Jay struggled with him in the middle of his apartment.

Marsh charged at Jay and Jay launched him over his shoulder and onto the ground with a crash, the knife clattering away as you heard the arrival of everyone else.

You exhaled, as you heard Hailey and Kevin arrest Marsh on the spot, your eyes falling on the knife that was just a few inches away from you, the knife that was stained with blood. Much more than there had been.

Jay was next to you in an instant, even though you heard an involuntary groan escape his lips.

“J…Jay?” Your eyes traveled down to the darkening red spot just off to the side of his abdomen, the knife had missed the police vest by inches.

Jay shook his head. “I’m okay. I’m okay, alright?” He reached down to squeeze your hand, but you could tell he was not alright, even before he sank lower to the ground, unable to stop another groan from escaping his lips, his breathing getting just slightly shallower.

“Jay!”

“Can I see him now?” You asked, looking up at Will.

Given the choice, you knew Will would be in the next treatment room checking on Jay as well. But Connor had thrown him out so he was stuck here with you.

Other than a slight concussion, some bruises and the gash across your arm, you were none the worse for wear. But that was only thanks to Jay.

“You heard Maggie. Jay’s fine, he doesn’t even need surgery, alright? Why don’t I go and…”

“Will Halstead.” You warned. “Don’t you dare leave me here.”

Will took one look at the expression on your face and sighed. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would convince you otherwise.

“Fine. But you are sitting in here.” Will pointed to the wheelchair.

You gave him a look.

“If Jay’s awake, I’m the one who is going to get his ass kicked, stab wound or no stab wound.” Will complained. “And now that you guys are dating, he’s going to kick me even harder.”

You pressed your lips together to hide a smile.

“Alright, come on.” Will said, rolling his eyes as he helped you into the wheelchair.

You were finally able to breathe better when you finally lay your eyes on Jay.

“Y/N.” Jay called, propping himself up on his elbow but wincing.

“Jay, slow.” You said gently, not even having the heart to be any harsher as you looked back at him.

Will glanced at his brother. “What did I tell you about being wheeled into the ED?”

Jay looked at Will. “Trust me, I’m about ready to jump out of here. I hate it here.”

You glanced at Will with a smile. “Fat chance. You got stabbed.” You reminded him.

“Will.” Jay pleaded, turning to his older brother.

Will glanced at the both of you, knowing better than to hang around. “I’ll talk to Connor.”

As Will excused himself, Jay glanced back at you. “How badly hurt are you?”

You shook your head. “None the worse for wear.” You assured him.

Jay looked unconvinced. “You’re sitting in a wheelchair.”

“Will said if I don’t walk in here on my own two feet, you’d kick his ass. I’m just being a good friend and saving his ass.” You answered.

Jay let out a chuckle, followed closely by a wince.

“Sorry.” Jay whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You frowned. “What are you sorry for? You took a knife to the stomach because of me. I thought… I…” Your voice trembled a little.

Jay exhaled slowly before he reached for your hand. “I promised I wouldn’t let him touch you but…”

You just shook your head, pulling yourself up from the chair and perching yourself on his bed before you leaned in to give him a gentle hug, careful to avoid his wound. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

Jay pressed a kiss to your temple before he sat up.

“But we got him, Y/N. And you’ll be okay now.”

You sat closer, reaching out to stroke Jay’s face. “We. We’ll be okay now, Jay.”

Jay smiled. “I love you, Y/N.”

You smiled back at him. “I love you, J.”

Jay just leaned forward, despite the tug in the stitches in his side, and pressed his lips to yours. And with the knowledge that everything would indeed be okay, you smiled at his touch, even before his lips left yours.

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[labellefleur-sauvage]

Disneyland DILF

Summary: While on a family vacation to Disneyland, Elide discovers her husband Lorcan has been featured on the viral Instagram page ‘DILFS of Disneyland.’ 

When he claims not to know what a DILF is, Elide decides the best way she can explain it to him is to demonstrate what the F stands for.

For the wonderful and amazing and talented @headcanonheadcase! I've been teasing this Lorcan DILF fic for a while, so thanks for being patient with me! Thank you for being so kind and supportive, and I hope you enjoy!

Rating: Explicit. See AO3 link for tags.

Word Count: 4.9K

Read on A03

“Come on Jack, look over here! Look at Mommy! Come on baby, just give me one good photo!”

Whoever coined the idiom “herding cats” to describe an impossible task should have instead used something like, “getting your toddler to look at a camera for more than one second for a halfway decent picture.” The latter, Elide decided, conveyed more of the frustrating nuance that people were bound to face, even if it was a bit too lengthy of a phrase. Who even had enough cats to herd anyways?

“Lorcan, can you stop distracting him for one minute, please? I really wanna get a picture of Jack with Pluto. And can you fix his hair?”

Her husband stopped whispering whatever he was saying to their son. He looked up at Elide with a frown.

“I’m not distracting him - I’m just telling him how better dressed he is than every other kid here.”

“Well, maybe don’t do that,” she cringed, as a middle aged woman wearing a pair of Mickey Mouse ears with a gaggle of similarly dressed children behind her shot Lorcan and Elide a dirty look. 

“And I think his hair looks good like this,” Lorcan went on, slightly tussling his son’s dark hair. “It looks effortlessly messy and windswept. Classic.” Jack agreed, as he grinned and clapped his pudgy little hands at his father’s compliments. 

“He’s two,” Elide deadpanned. “He’s not going to be on the cover of Baby Vogue.”

Lorcan hummed. “Is that a thing? It should be, and Jack should be on the cover -“

She sighed; she knew when she lost her battles with her husband, rare that it happened. “One, two, three -“

Quick as a snake, Lorcan turned himself and Jack towards Elide’s phone and gave their biggest grins for the picture: Lorcan’s a small uptick of the corners of his mouth, his long, dark hair swaying in the warm breeze, while Jack grinned toothily at the camera. 

“Oh, that actually turned out pretty good,” Elide said, slowly walking over to show the picture to Lorcan. “And Plutos is in the background, so I guess that technically counts.”

“Pluto’s the dog, right?” Lorcan asked, settling Jack back in his stroller.

Elide looked at her husband exasperatedly. “Yes, Pluto’s the dog. I still don’t understand how you know so little about Disney. It’s like you grew up under a rock.”

Lorcan shrugged as they set off at a slow pace down Disneyland’s broad Main Street and into the heart of the park. “Growing up in an orphanage and joining the military at 18 doesn’t exactly lend itself to having a pop culture filled childhood.”

“Disney transcends pop culture,” Elide muttered distractedly, pulling up the Disneyland app on her smartphone. “I know I should have quizzed you on everything Disney, or at least made you memorize the map of this place.”

“Where are we off to next?” he asked, looking over her shoulder at the map pulled up on her phone.

“Where aren’t we going? Big day planned. Jack loves Tigger so I want to head over to the Critter Country area so he can meet him and get some pictures together. I think we’d all like the Jungle Cruise - can you double check I packed the noise canceling headphones? - watch the parade, hang around in Toontown, depending on how Jack is doing, then end the day by visiting Sleepy Beauty’s castle. That’s been on my to do list since I was a little girl.”  

Lorcan arched an eyebrow. “Is this Disneyland vacation for him or you?”

Elide pursed her lips. “It’s for all of us, you giant twerp. But what do you want to do? I’ll hang back with him if you want to go on rides or visit the Star Wars area.”

“I don’t need to do anything other than be with you two. Just keep me fed and I’ll go wherever you tell me.”

Elide grinned. “Smart man. How about we head over to Adventureland for the Jungle Cruise? I think he’d like the animals.”

“Lead on,” Lorcan said, wheeling Jack’s stroller around and following Elide further into the park.

The Jungle Cruise was a hit. Lorcan strapped Jack into his front-facing toddler carrier and held him the entire time, making sure his headphones were on and pointing out the different animals they saw, to Jack’s delight. Elide should have spent the ride taking in the sights around her - this Disneyland trip was truthfully perhaps more for her than for their son - but she couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on Lorcan. 

Devilishly handsome didn’t seem like it did her husband justice. Nearly seven feet tall, with shiny shoulder length dark hair, a perfectly symmetrical face, and rippling muscles that didn’t seem real, Elide knew Lorcan was a catch. 

But what she adored even more about him was his personality: his quiet, understated humor, how loyal he was, his bravery, and his unending support for everything Elide put her mind to. He carried her weight  - sometimes literally - when her disability became too much for her and she struggled to walk even with her ankle brace on. 

Best of all, he was an excellent father. Before Jack had been born, he’d confessed to Elide that he was scared that he didn’t know how to be a good dad and he’d do something to traumatically mess up Jack’s life. She didn’t believe that for a second; she had full faith in him, and told him that repeatedly. The first time Lorcan held Jack after he was born was the closest Elide had ever seen him to crying. 

And now here he was, willingly walking around the capitalistic hell that was Disneyland, all so his wife and son could have a picture perfect day. What a lucky woman she was.

“I think he really enjoyed that,” Lorcan commented after they collected their stroller from the front of the ride. He decided to keep wearing Jack in his front-facing carrier - “He’ll be able to see things better that way,” he reasoned - and Elide wasn’t going to complain, especially since seeing Lorcan carry their kid around sent odd little flutters throughout her body. 

“He did,” Elide cooed, re-fastening Jack’s little velcro shoes so he wouldn’t kick them off. “I got a good picture of him looking at elephants.”

“Good thing he didn’t seem to realize what the lions were doing to that zebra.”

Elide shuddered. “Yeah, maybe some parts of this ride aren’t the best for babies and toddlers.”

“Where to next?” Lorcan asked. “Try to find Tigger and then lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Elide said, kissing Jack’s cheek and squeezing Lorcan’s hand. “Want me to take the stroller?”

“You navigate, I’ll steer.”

She quickly learned Disneyland was much larger than the little map on her phone made it look. By the time they found Tigger and took dozens of pictures of an excited Jack with his favorite character, and let him burn some energy on a Winnie the Pooh playground, Elide’s ankle throbbed with every footstep she took. She hobbled to a sitting bench and watched Jack go down a slide before running back up to go down again and again.

“How are you doing?” Lorcan questioned, sitting down next to her on the bench.

“I may have underestimated how much walking we were going to do today,” she admitted, leaning down to rub her ankle. 

“Want your brace?”

She grimaced. “Maybe not right now. I’ll try to wait until after lunch. Speaking of, I think Jack’s getting hungry and tired - want to see if we can find somewhere to sit out of the sun?”

They found a shaded and relatively quiet restaurant in the New Orleans area, and Elide sat at the table and put on her ankle brace, waiting for their food, as Lorcan walked around with Jack in the picturesque square outside the restaurant. She watched them contentedly as Jack toddled over a short railing into a flower bed and stuck his entire head into a bunch of flowers. Rather than pull him out, Lorcan crouched down next to him and started pointing out different flowers to Jack.

Sighing happily, she took a sip of her mocktail and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair. Besides her ankle, the day was going perfectly. 

“Mama! Mama!”

She opened her eyes. Lorcan was walking towards her with Jack on his hip, a bunch of bright flowers, dirty roots and all, dangling from his fat fist.

“He was very interested in the flowers, and I told him how much you like flowers too,” Lorcan said, putting Jack in a high chair as he thrust the flowers at Elide. 

“Oh Jack, these are perfect,” Elide gasped, fighting the tears that had welled in her eyes and taking the bright arrangement from her son. She leaned down to kiss Jack on a chubby cheek. “Thank you so much baby.”

“Seems I’m gonna have to do better the next time I give you flowers,” Lorcan grumbled. “Not sure how I’m gonna compete with a fresh Disney bouquet.”

“I’m surprised no one came and shooed you away,” Elide noted, wrapping the bottom of the flowers in a napkin and tucking them in the stroller. 

“Oh, someone did,” Lorcan confirmed nonchalantly. “Especially when Jack tossed a bunch of tulips on the ground. They didn’t seem to like us damaging park property, or something.”

“Lorcan!” Elide admonished. “You didn’t make someone miserable over some flowers, did you?”

No, I just stood up and I guess they thought better about trying to yell at me. Besides, it’d be well worth making anyone miserable if it made you happy.”

“Aw. That is so sweet and threatening.”

He winked and gave her a small smile. “Anything for you.”

They took their time with lunch and by the time they finished, Jack had fallen asleep in his stroller. Deciding to let him sleep, they staked out a shaded bit of lawn and sat down to watch the parade from a distance. Full of energy when he woke up, they leisurely made their way over to Toontown and got in line for the steam train ride.

“I can take him for a bit,” Elide suggested, picking a bench in the back of the train so Lorcan wouldn’t block anyone out. “You’ve been handling him a lot today.”

“I got him,” Lorcan said, sitting Jack on his lap. “You just sit and relax.”

Her husband had apparently designated himself as being on ‘Jack Duty’ all day, as he refused to let Elide even push his stroller or hold him, besides whenever she thrust her phone at Lorcan and asked him to take pictures. 

“Is that safe, Lorcan?” Elide asked nervously after they had gotten off the train. Her husband had just thrown Jack onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the entire park.

“Course,” Lorcan grunted, holding onto their son’s legs, his arms flexing as they walked towards Goofy’s Playhouse. “Just want to make sure he can see everything. He loves people watching, just like his mom.”

They set Jack down and he immediately ran into the bright, cartoon style house.

“He’s gonna sleep so well tonight,” Elide sighed happily. 

“And we won’t?” Lorcan countered, an eyebrow raised.

“Good point. I’m glad tomorrow is a lazy day at the beach.”

By the time they dragged Jack away nearly an hour later, even he had come to the conclusion that he was ready to leave. Burying his face in Lorcan’s shoulder, he didn’t seem to mind stopping at Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Elide didn’t have the energy to go up and explore any of the winding passages and staircases, but Lorcan still took her picture everywhere she could go in the castle, juggling her phone in one hand and their near-sleeping son in the other.

“You could have put him in the stroller,” Elide said as they made their way back to their car, double and triple checking that they hadn’t lost anything in the park.

“That’s alright. Didn’t want to risk waking him up.”

Dinner was some fast food they picked up on the way back to their Airbnb. Jack picked at his food and didn’t fight them as they gave him a quick bath and Lorcan got him settled for bed in the small second bedroom of the condo. Elide showered and stepped into the master bedroom to find Lorcan laying on the bed reading a book.

“Did he go down pretty easy?” she asked, drying her hair.

 “Oh yeah. Only made it a few more pages into The Hobbit before he passed out.”

“God, same kid,” Elide groaned, throwing on her pajamas and crawling into bed next to Lorcan, grabbing her phone and looking through the several hundred photos she and Lorcan had managed to snap that day.

Opening Instagram, she scrolled through her friend’s recent posts and videos - Aelin and Rowan celebrating their wedding anniversary, Manon’s rescue bulldog Abraxos officially completing training to become a therapy dog, and some professional pictures of Yrene, Chaol and their daughter - before she noticed a ‘Suggested for You’ account:

dilfs_of_disneyland

Elide snorted and scrolled away. How stupid and niche. It was probably filled with a few blurry creepshots of men at Disneyland, or a PR stunt of some kind for a movie or TV show or podcast. No, thank you. Elide had standards. She scrolled away.

On the other hand, she was on vacation; her standards could take a break. She scrolled back up and clicked on the account and was brought to a professional looking Instagram page:

DILFS of Disneyland: Welcome to the Happiest place on Instagram!

Apparently the account wasn’t niche at all - it had over 400,000 followers, and more than 1,200 posts, all featuring pictures of handsome men with babies and toddlers at Disneyland. Elide was stunned, scrolling through post after post after post of men with their kids at Disneyland, doing frankly normal things - pushing strollers, posing for pictures, eating ice cream and churros with their kids - but there was something… else, something more she couldn’t quite put her finger on that made these men extra appealing. 

Not that she would ever admit this to Lorcan. Snorting, she scrolled back to the top of the page when she noticed a new post from today with an all too familiar face:

“WOW 😍😍 A DILF to beat all DILFS! Taking Tall, Dark and Handsome to a new DILF-y level!! #hotdads #dilfsofdisneyland #dilfalert #strollermeat”

There was her husband, in all his DILF-y glory from throughout the day: Lorcan walking with Jack strapped to his chest, Lorcan pushing Jack in his stroller, and even one from late in the day when Jack sat on Lorcan’s shoulders. Elide had to give it to the photographer on that one - his arms and chest looked absolutely ripped in the photo. 

And the internet agreed. The post had only been up for a few hours and already amassed several hundred likes and over one hundred comments, all from women - and some men - going feral for Lorcan.

“Call the fire department, cuz I’m about to climb that DILF like a tree and get stuck”

“Hello Daddy😏😘”

“God bless this Disney DILF🙏🏻🙏🏻”

Elide couldn’t help but chuckle. She maybe should be concerned that someone had been stalking her husband at Disneyland but as she looked through the many comments bemoaning how hot and unavailable Lorcan was, she didn’t feel any anger for the people drooling over her husband. Her chuckle morphed into a full laugh, until Elide was snorting in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?”

Lorcan was staring at her, his brow furrowed. 

“Your greatest fear has come true,” Elide gasped out. 

Lorcan sat up. “Rowan got some stupid award he can rub in my face?”

“No, you’re internet famous. Kind of.”

“What?” he snapped, rolling on his side to try to look at her phone. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing bad,” she said, working to contain her laughter. “The internet says you’re a DILF.”

Lorcan stared at her blankly. “A what?”

“A DILF. You know,” she repeated, waving her hand like that would explain the acronym.

"What’s a DILF?”

Elide sat up on her elbows. “Wait, really? You don’t know what a DILF is?” She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at Lorcan, studying him for any of his lying tells. 

“Really. What’s it mean?”

“You’re thirty-four!” Elide exclaimed. “How do you not know what a DILF is?”

“Well, I’m not glued to my phone twenty-four seven -”

“Because your old flip phone doesn't have internet and you only have three people’s phone numbers.”

“Just tell me what it means,” Lorcan grumbled, pouting. 

Elide snickered. “It means ‘dad I’d like to fuck.’ There’s an Instagram page devoted to dads in Disneyland, and you’re proving very popular.” She handed her phone to Lorcan and watched him read through the myriad of comments left on his pictures. 

“Huh. That’s… interesting.”

Elide shrugged. “Maybe a little odd, but they don’t mean any harm by it. Just people admiring how hot and good of a dad you are.”

“And being a dad… makes me more attractive to women?”

“Oh definitely. There have been times when you’ve been so good with Jack I jumped you when we put him down for a nap. And seeing you today, holding Jack, playing with him…” she trailed off, biting her lip and sweeping her eyes down his body.

“Really? That gets you going?”

“Maybe,” she purred, crawling over to him and swinging her leg over him so she sat on his lap, “I could put on a demonstration of the ‘F’ in DILF, if you still need convincing.”

He grinned, trailing his big hands up her slim thighs. “I’ve always been more of a hands-on learner. That might help it… sink in.”

“Maybe if you’re lucky, that won’t be the only thing you’ll be sinking into,” she murmured, leaning down to capture Lorcan’s lips against hers. 

Lorcan’s warm hands grasped the sides of her head to keep her still as their tongues met. Elide sighed with pleasure. She could spend all night just kissing her husband, feeling his large body flex and shift underneath her, his hands trailing soft caresses down her body. His fingers dove beneath her sleep shorts. She was already wet. She gasped as his fingers trailed up and down her slit before plunging a thick finger inside her. 

“Guess you weren’t kidding about getting turned on by me being a DILF,” Lorcan mumbled against her, nipping her bottom lip. 

Groaning, she rolled off him and threw herself off the bed, tugging her clothes off. “Well, hop to it,” she breathed, laughing softly as Lorcan fumbled to get his pants and shirt off. 

She took a moment to stare at his body: a strong chest covered with a smattering of dark hair that formed a dark line below his belly button, thick thighs that could crush a person to death if he needed to. And his cock. Thick, long, and perfectly proportional to his big body and which looked obscene next to Elide’s petite form.

Lorcan lay on the bed, absentmindedly stroking his cock as he looked Elide up and down. “Dad you’d like to fuck, hm?” He murmured. “How about I get you warmed up for a fucking?”

Elide shivered. “What do you have in mind?”

“I like the idea of… sinking into you.” He grinned lazily, and her belly tightened with anticipation. “Get on.”

He grabbed a small bottle of lube and coated his thick length liberally. She climbed on top of Lorcan and gasped as he spun her around and settled her over his cock, her knees bracketing his hips as she faced away from his face, towards his long legs and feet. She turned around to look at him. 

“Just wanna feel you around me,” he remarked. Grabbing his cock, he pulled her down, letting her take him within her at her own pace.

Elide moaned. Even after all this time, she still needed to take him slowly, let him stretch out her inner walls. The lube helped immensely. She swirled her hips, taking an inch before withdrawing and taking another, then another, then another, Lorcan’s deep groans egging her on. Finally she sunk down fully against his body. She started to raise herself on her knees to start that intimate rhythm they both knew so well when Lorcan’s hands gripped her hips.

“Hold on,” he said, not letting her move. “Now that you’re here, I wanna enjoy this.”

“Were you not having fun before?” Elide gasped, feeling him twitch inside her. 

“Oh, I was and still am,” he said, caressing her hips. “Just come back down and lean forward a bit - yeah, just like that.”

Elide blushed as she leaned forward over Lorcan’s body, grabbing his knees for leverage. She felt exposed and open as Lorcan hummed appreciatively, rubbing his hand over one of her ass cheeks. 

“You take me so well,” he murmured. “I think this is a nice interlude before I fuck you. Just wanna feel you warming my cock.”

She craned her neck and gave him an annoyed look. This is not at all what she thought he meant by ‘warming her up.’ “And what about me?”

Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that we ended up here because you get so turned on just by me being a good dad. Don’t I have a say in how I want to be fucked?”

“Well, I guess, but -“

“Then just sit there nice and pretty on my cock,” he soothed. “Don’t move though, just stay still.”

“Lorcan,” Elide squirmed against him. “I need -“

“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you full in a bit,” he said distractedly, and Elide knew he felt her cunt clench around his cock ar his words. “I just wanna finish this chapter -“

She tsked. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for his book with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. “Just a few minutes.”

Elide sighed and turned her head back towards Lorcan’s legs, forcing herself to relax. She considered herself fairly adventurous in bed, and her and Lorcan had a very open and healthy sex life, but this was one thing they hadn’t tried yet. Elide didn’t see the appeal in cockwarming, but actually experiencing it, well…

Lorcan subtly shifted his hips and she felt his cock somewhere in her stomach. Cursing, she gripped his knees and made herself stay still. This wasn’t how she thought this would go. When she initially climbed on his lap she thought she’d suck him for a bit then ride him, or maybe bend herself over the bed so he could pound into her from behind.

But here she was, hypersensitive and aware of every little movement and touch from Lorcan, only a few breaths away from breaking and begging him to do something.

Which is probably why he did this. Jerk.

“I can hear you thinking.” She refused to turn around to look at him but she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Just thinking how I actually wanted to fuck my husband, not stare at a wall with his cock stuffed in me,” she sniffed. 

Lorcan laughed. “Ok, Ok, I get it. You’re lucky I’m done with my chapter.”

She whined as he lifted her off his length. She felt horribly cold and empty until he flipped her around on her back and kneeled in between her legs. 

“That wasn’t even five minutes, just so you know,” Lorcan said, stroking his slick cock and glancing down to her red pussy. 

“Bullshit,” she gasped as her husband gripped her thighs and hauled her towards him so her legs were resting over his hips. “Felt like an hour.”

He hummed. “I should fuck you for an hour, so you have a frame of reference next time we do this.” He laid a wide spread hand on her stomach and moved his hand up her torso.

“What a perfect little wife you are,” he whispered. Elide gulped; his hand covered nearly her entire chest, and his fingers graced the hollow of her throat.

“Please,” she gasped, licking her lips and shifting her hips to graze his cock. 

“So tiny, but like you were made for me.” He looked down to where they were almost joined. His cock jutted obscenely out over her stomach. 

“Is this what you imagined?” He asked, dragging the head of his cock over her clit before settling at her entrance. “When you told me that I’m a DILF, and how excited that makes you?”

Elide couldn’t answer, her eyes darting between Lorcan’s dark gaze and his thick cock so close to where she wanted him. 

He squeezed her thighs. “Well?”

“Yes,” she said in a broken whisper. “Yes, I imagined you fucking me so hard -“

Lorcan pushed into her in one hard stroke and Elide lost her train of thought. Lost every thought she’d ever had, honestly, as Lorcan gripped her waist and set a hard pace. 

Elide grabbed Lorcan’s forearms as he pounded into her, needing to feel even more of his warm body and to keep herself from moving around the bed with the power of his thrusts. She threw her head back at a particularly rough thrust.

“Fuck Lorcan,” she groaned, aware that she couldn’t be as loud as she wanted with Jack in the room next door. 

“God, you’re always so tight,” he grunted out, wrapping his arms around her thighs and hauling her lower half off the bed and further into his lap, letting him thrust even deeper inside her. “Feel so good. Is this hard enough for you?”

“Yes!” Her orgasm inched closer and closer. She reached down and started circling her clit rapidly. If he kept fucking her just like this, and she kept touching herself…

“I wonder how turned on you’d get if we had another,” he said, staring down at her intently. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, would you?”

Lorcan didn’t get an answer as Elide came, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to keep herself quiet. Warmth spread throughout her body as her orgasm traveled along her nerves, lighting her up from the inside. She was vaguely aware of a muffled groan above her and more warmth between her legs as Lorcan came.

He dropped her limp legs and bracketed his arms next to Elide’s head, careful not to crush her as he gave her a gentle kiss before rolling beside her. They lay in blissful silence for a few moments, each focusing on slowing their erratic breathing, when Lorcan let out a huff of air, then another, until he started chuckling.

“DILFs of Disneyland. How many likes did the post have?”

“Hm?” Elide mumbled, halfway to falling asleep.

“Were there a lot of comments on my post? I only saw about a dozen.”

“A lot of… what?”

“Any chance you can check your phone?”

She propped herself on one elbow to stare at Lorcan, brows furrowed. “What? You don’t know anything about Instagram or how it works.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “Of course I know how Instagram works. I browse it every now and then.”

“How? Your phone doesn’t have any apps!”

“The desktop.”

“Your old desktop computer?” Elide asked, flabbergasted. “I didn’t realize that thing still worked. And whose accounts are you looking at?”

“Yours, obviously.”

Oh. “Lorcan,” Elide said, grinning softly. “That’s so sweet -“

“And the DILFs of Disneyland page.”

The grin vanished from her face. “What.”

“Yeah, Rowan showed it to me when I told him we were coming here, and he said he and Aelin and their girl are planning a trip later this year. I bet him I could not only get featured on the DILFs of Disneyland Instagram account, but also get more likes than him if he manages to get featured too.”

Elide stared at her smug husband, slack jawed. “So the entire day you insisted on holding and wheeling Jack around -“

“Was because I wanted to spend time with him and so your ankle wouldn’t get sore and we’d have to leave early,” he said gently, bringing her down to lay on his chest. “But if it also meant there were lots of opportunities for me to look hot as hell while holding Jack, then that was nice too.”

“You self centered ass,” Elide said, lightly smacking his shoulder as Lorcan laughed. Elide couldn’t help but join in, shaking her head all the while. 

“Well, what did you two idiots bet on?”

“Bragging rights and the loser has to get a shirt for the winner proclaiming them the official DILF of Disneyland.”

“If you somehow win, that will be a bedroom shirt only,” Elide warned. 

“Definitely not. I’m gonna wear it around all the time. Get fucked, Rowan.”

“Then you’ll be the one to explain to Jack what a DILF is.”

“This is great,” Lorcan said, pointedly ignoring Elide. “As soon as we get back, I’m gonna email him my DILF pictures -“

“God, you’re such an old man,” Elide laughed, throwing herself dramatically on the bed next to him. “Living up to the reputation of dads being terrible with technology.”

“I make up for it in other ways, don’t I?” he breathed against her neck, his lips trailing past her collarbone and breasts and stomach and then even lower.

“Oh! Yes, I suppose you do have your strengths,” Elide mused breathlessly as Lorcan settled his head between her thighs. 

Unfortunately for Elide, Lorcan received his DILF of Disneyland shirt from Rowan, and he gloated insufferably. Fortunately for her, though, Lorcan made sure to show his wife how he became a DILF, and she couldn’t walk straight for two days. 

She had to give it to them: the DILFs of Disneyland account really was the happiest place on Instagram.

[agaypanic]

i was watching the chapter of "cynthia's back" and i would like to ask for an image with the same theme. only this time reader (fem!reader) is reese's girlfriend and she is insecure about her breasts. and reese consoles her somehow, nothing nsfw, rather sfw!!! please and thank you. 🫶🫶

Who Says (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Reese tries convincing you that you shouldn’t pay your insecurities any mind.

A/N: Bc of the similar theme to the episode, reader has bigger breasts, but other than that her body isn’t really described. Also fic is titled after that Selena Gomez song bc sometimes titles are hard

***

You were already having a shitty day. You slept in late so you had to run to school, had a surprise pop quiz in the class you hated the most, grouped with the worst people for a project in your favorite class, and the lunch was horrible. Like, you wouldn’t be surprised if you got food poisoning from it. You just wanted to go home and nap off your bad mood, but when school let out, your boyfriend Reese reminded you that you two had agreed to go shopping for prom. You wanted to reschedule but knew that if you did, you’d never get around to it, especially with Reese’s tendency to get grounded and pull crazy schemes.

When you got to the mall, you ran into a bigger problem.

“God, why can’t you just zip?” You grumbled to yourself. This was the fifth dress you’ve tried on, and none of them fit, even though they were your size. Puberty had cursed you with big boobs, and although you usually were okay with them, they made clothes shopping a pain in the ass. “Please, I’m fucking begging for you to just zip.”

“Everything okay, Y/n?” Reese asked on the other side of the door. The question just made you more frustrated because everything wasn’t okay. You flung open the door, yanked Reese inside, and slammed the door shut. “Y/n, I don’t think we’re allowed to fool around in public.”

“Shut up, Reese.” You laughed weakly, the stupid joking lifting your mood slightly. You started unzipping your dress. “Nothing’s fitting.”

“Do you need me to get a bigger size?” He caught your sad look and panicked. “Not that your fat. I’m not saying that; I don’t mean that.”

“No, it’s not that, Reese.” You let the dress pool on the floor and threw on your sweater, oversized enough to hide what you were currently having a problem with without drowning you in fabric. “It’s no use. I might as well show up to prom in a burlap sack.”

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Everything! If I get a dress that fits me, it doesn’t fit my boobs. If I get a dress that fits my boobs, it’s too big for my body. There’s no middle!” You turned to stare at yourself in the mirror, feeling hopeless. 

Reese looked at you through the mirror’s reflection. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his expertise; it was more the opposite. He was usually the reason people needed comfort. But he had to at least try. Hesitantly, he rested a hand lightly on your hip. When you seemed okay with his touch, he pulled you until your back was to his chest. He rested his chin on your shoulder, now making eye contact through the mirror.

“It’ll be okay.” That seemed like a good start, but you didn’t look so convinced. “You have time to figure it out; prom’s in like two months anyway.”

“But that’s not enough time to get rid of… these.” You gestured to your chest defeatedly.

“Who said you had to get rid of them?”

“I feel like a freak.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.” Reese’s hands slithered to wrap around you. “Look, I’m not gonna lie. I think it’s hot that you have big boobs.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “But that’s not the only thing about you I like. I’d list them, but we’d get kicked out from how long we’d be in here. The point is, you’ll have the time to figure it all out. Don’t stress it. You could show up in a burlap sack and still be the prettiest girl there.”

You nodded, taking in the words. Reese was right, you supposed. It’s not like you needed the dress tomorrow. But you wanted to be like the other girls who get their dress in advance so they could hang it up on their door and count down the days until the special event to wear it.

“Now, here’s what we’re gonna do; let me know what you think. You put your pants on, we put all this shit back on the racks and go to Auntie Anne’s. I want a pretzel.” You couldn’t help but smile.

“That sounds like a good plan.” You turned your head to meet Reese’s lips, kissing him sweetly before pulling away to finish getting dressed.

[thecrenellations]

Top 5 Lymond ships?

I’m going to keep this to romantic* ships, but my list of top 5 Lymond relationships of any kind definitely includes some platonic and family ones (and is even more difficult to confine to 5).

*other or additional adjectives may certainly apply…

click below for spoilers and because my answers got long. Augh, these characters!

Francis/Will - The nicknames! The fights! The stars! Strip tarocco and its narrative implications! Then the wedding day sheep battle, the tactical cross-dressing, “everything there was to know about Lymond’s way with women” ?!?!, the ring, the way Will is there at Midculter when Francis comes home in DK… They’re such a disaster, in hilarious and serious ways, but they make it through to real trust and friendship in the end, and I just love them.

Francis/Philippa - Their relationship is always important and telling and entertaining, and after a certain point but before the suffering sets in, they just keep making each other smile and laugh, by accident and on purpose. Reading their scenes in RC is like genuinely being in the room with them, with banter and chemistry that is PALPABLE and makes me into a third wheel, but as a reader I also have insights that they don’t, so I’m in on it too? Or something. They love each other so much! And after everything, they get to be together. Francis, you fool, this is what you should be!

Francis/Jerott - if you’d told me when I was in the middle of reading the series that they’d be on this list, I’d be like, “Uh, ok, sure. Dorothy Dunnett has changed my opinion about characters before.” If you'd told me when I had just finished the series, I’d go, “Huh??” But here I am. There is so much wrong with both of them, and we know it all too well, but they are so important to each other, and Jerott is one of the characters closest to the story's heart. Getting Jerott safely out of the disaster that is DK is one of the things Francis promises himself, and he’s so glad when Jerott decides to stay. Their relationship, especially in PiF, becomes deeply devoted and strange and delicate and absolutely full of self-deception on both sides. But Francis never stops trusting him, even when he’s busy running away from all of his own feelings with increasing speed, even when Jerott is being awful to him. And all the desperate conflict within Jerott distills to the essential element of being there for Francis, every time it comes down to it. Also, the way Jerott calls him his first name more than anyone else (on-page, in the series’ scope) messes me up.

Marthe/Güzel - I REALLY wish we’d gotten to see more of them. For Marthe, PiF is (among many other things) this long, agonizing breakup, but we only get a few clear glimpses of it. That scene between them in Djerba! Marthe plays a song wishing misfortune on the brother she knows her girlfriend is zeroing in on, and she cries because Güzel has happiness (does she though 😬) and she has none! And I cry too! And the whole mess that web of relationships becomes is fascinating (and one of the clearest examples of how queer these books are, yay), and there's also the parallels with Francis and Margaret, to consider? Anyway, to quote @sophosthewisebunny, Marthe deserves better than the shadiest bitch in the Mediterranean/someone who would leave her for her brother, but their relationship is very interesting.

Francis/Güzel - Rereading RC, every scene between them made me feel dead inside, while also making me want to run around screaming and then return to my book to savor every word. There’s so much going on with them, hardly any of it good, and since I was just thinking about the previous ship on the list, I have to wonder how their relationships to Marthe affect how they relate to each other, because that’s an interesting question, too.

honorable mention to Francis/Míkál, entirely because of this, and Francis -ahem- Lymond/Richard Chancellor, because another thing that happened as I was rereading RC was that I realized just how much I’d missed about how important they are to each other, in such a rare and needed way (the first time, I was busy losing it about the brother prophecy and yelling at Francis to be friends with Adam and Alec again).

[mediumtires]

It's two days into the summer break and I'm already going through vroom vroom withdrawals, so I re-read Seven Years then decided to nitpick season 5 of DTS. Seven Years is so stuck in my head (especially with last weekend's ass grab) that I started to wonder how Christian and Toto's relationship would affect DTS. Would there be a full episode about their relationship? Would they be more included in each other's episodes? Would Netflix try to get footage of the two acting like a couple? The only guarantee is that Tumblr would be analysis every interaction between the two because we already do that.

Also, I use Microsoft Edge over google so I thought you might find this funny.

The first thing they list is that he is a racing driver, not a successful team principal, a racing driver. :p

ohhh this is such an interesting take!

personally i didn’t make dts a thing in seven years because i just didn’t want to deal with the mess of it. it adds a whole other layer of emotional clusterfucks of being exposed to the wider public (outside of the f1 bubble even), even more cameras following them around the paddock, mic-ed up 24/7. there is a snippet i started writing after the whole “change your fucking car” business that i couldn’t even finish because the whole thing was so messy and i could not come up with a proper way to solve this because i was so embarrassed for them lmao.

but let’s walk for a second. let’s say their involuntary outing happens and dts are around for it all, i do think netflix would be a perfect vessel to promote lgbtq+ visibility and rights in motorsports and both pr teams would jump at the chance. obviously an outing like this is a huge fuck up marketing wise, nothing was planned, no one was prepared for it so they’d need to act quick and with netflix around, they’d have the perfect opportunity to angle the narrative any way they want. plus for netflix it would obviously mean Millions. everyone and their mother would watch the new season.

not sure they’d have a full episode. don’t think christian or toto would agree to this during some of the worst moments of their lives lol and in seven years i tried my best to not glorify or romanticise a shitty situation like being outed by someone else against your will. but i do think they’d both still want to be on dts, they enjoy the spotlight and the attention too much. in my mind they’d both show up to their netflix interviews smirking, a little ala “look at you and your lil cameras, i had a secret you couldn’t even imagine being true, you only know the things i choose to tell you, i’m in charge here”. to me that’s kind of a power move. i also think certain questions would simply be blacklisted so all we’d get would be ambiguous layered eye-twinkling comments about the rival team principal while touching their wedding rings. “oh toto slammed that desk *eye roll* yeah he’s so emotional *smirk*” or “christian has a big mouth, don’t believe everything he says, i don’t” or “singapore last year? yeah i think…. i think we won. did we? can’t remember, i was a little busy” but they don’t ever talk about singapore directly.

post outing i don’t think we’d get much husband material on dts. i tried very hard to write them as being private about their relationship and i still think that rings true, even post outing. there were instances where i thought it’d be significant and meaningful to them as a couple to show their support for each other a little more publicly (or maybe just a little less secretively) but those moments were about them more so than an act for the public or the cameras. in my mind they wouldn’t walk hand in hand through the paddock just because they can, not mid season on a thursday morning anyway. they’re professionals and they’re at work. but it’s a different thing when a netflix camera zooms in on them through a window and they’re having a quiet lunch tucked away in some corner of rb hospitality, or a brush of hands or a discreet smile when they pass each other somewhere and a camera is around to pick up on it.

so that’s my take! the most interesting angle to me though is how the public perception suddenly changes from seeing them as individuals to seeing them as a unit. it rewires your brain from “oh these two are fun, they hate each other” to “oh these two….. don’t hate each other. in actuality they…. they seem to love each other enough to be…. husbands. huh”

[makeste]

update part two: THE SPOILERING

~*~THIS POST IS ENTIRELY ABOUT BNHA MANGA SPOILERS.~*~ IF YOU ARE NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THE CURRENT EVENTS OF THE BNHA MANGA, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS POST. I do have a separate "hey guys I'm back" update post here which is spoiler-free!

THIS POST, THOUGH, IS NOT SPOILER-FREE. IT IS THE OPPOSITE OF SPOILER-FREE. IT EXISTS SOLELY FOR THE PURPOSE OF DISCUSSING THE BIGGEST, MOST SPOILERLY SPOILERS EVER. IF THAT IS NOT YOUR DESIRE, PLEASE PROCEED AWAY FROM THIS POST WITH ALL HASTE.

I am, however, assuming that something like 90% of this blog's readership does, in fact, know exactly what this post is about, which is why we are going to TALK ABOUT IT right here and right now underneath this tidy read-more.

okay, so! gonna stick with the random imaginary Q&A format from my other post just to make things easier.

1. "wow makeste, way to randomly go on spoiler lockdown hiatus for NINE WHOLE MONTHS only to MAGNIFICENTLY DROP THE BALL by running smack dab into THE BIGGEST BNHA SPOILER OF ALL TIME."

I know right??

2. "so what do you have to say for yourself."

short version: I made the critical tactical error of existing as a human being in the general vicinity of the internet in early August 2022. very poor move on my part. rookie mistake.

long version: so there I was, minding my own business, watching the trailer for BnHA season 6, as one does. when out of nowhere, YouTube's algorithm decided to be all "OH? THIS PERSON LIKES MY HERO ACADEMIA? BOY DO I HAVE A RECOMMENDATION FOR THEM." next thing I know, I'm scrolling through my YT home page and ALL OF A SUDDEN THERE'S A DETAILED PICTURE OF MY SON'S MANGLED BLOODY CORPSE, RIGHT NEXT TO AN ALL-CAPS DESCRIPTION READING -- I SHIT YOU NOT -- "BAKUGOU REALLY JUST DIED!!! THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!"

seriously though. that is word-for-word verbatim what it said. the internet literally got right up in my face and said "OHOHO!! LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY FORGOT TO DELETE LITERALLY ONE SINGLE MHA-RELATED VIDEO FROM THEIR WATCH HISTORY! TIME TO DESTROY HALF A YEAR'S WORTH OF PAINSTAKINGLY DILIGENT SPOILER AVOIDANCE IN ONE EARTH-SHATTERING BLOW!" and just like that, my miraculous fate-tempting seven month spoiler-free streak came to an end. the sequel to blah blah SIXQUIRKS. something something BAKUGOU DIED. JUST THOUGHT WE'D SHARE THAT LITTLE UPDATE WITH YOU. HAVE A GOOD ONE, AND DRIVE SAFE!

so naturally my first reaction was basically just. looooooool :) :) :) what the fuck.

here I am. a working mom. who left her seventeen-year-old fictional son in the care of a 36-year-old Japanese man for the better part of a year because HE SAID he would take good care of him. Jump Festa 2022!! quote unquote!! "I’ve said this to Okamoto [Nobuhiko]-kun in LINE, but Katsuki will be having his greatest scene in the manga in future developments. I hope people who like Katsuki and hate Katsuki will look forward to it." bruh. we have the receipts right here! "greatest scene," he said! oh, goody, I said! something to look forward to when I finally have the time to catch up! "yes," Horikoshi smiles evilly. "something to look forward to, indeed." this fucking guy. can you even believe.

and just to be clear, when I say that I was otherwise 100% not-spoiled up until this point, I mean it. one hundred percent. I had absolutely ZERO knowledge of anything past chapter 339. the last I saw of Bakugou, he was hanging out with the rest his class showing off his cool new moves to Deku and being blindsided by Aoyama's betrayal and stuff. then bam. seven months later, fate mails me a postcard of him lying on the ground with a bloody hole in his chest. like WOW, OKAY. ZERO CHILL. OF COURSE THIS WOULD HAPPEN THE ONE TIME I DECIDE TO GO ON HIATUS FOR TWO HUNDRED DAYS, SMDH.

anyway so that's my story.

3. "so exactly how spoiled are you?"

lol I'm not even sure. I guess my best answer would be, "SOMEWHAT?"

or, if you don't mind reading more words, I can tell you exactly how spoiled I am by summarizing the Things That I Do Know in a bullet list.

THINGS THAT I KNOW

all of this apparently takes place between chapters 359 and 362, with 362 being the big "oh he DEAD dead" chapter. I think. based on all the fics that have since cropped up on AO3 with ominous chapter 362 spoiler tags.

I am pretty sure Bakugou was fighting either Tomura or AFO when it happened.

I have this vague idea that somehow his heart exploded or something?? like I don't really know the details, but that's what I've been able to glean.

apparently Jeanist and Edgeshot were involved in some sort of effort to save him?? but apparently that didn't work out too well I guess. OR DID IT? I actually do not know.

I have the vague impression Edgeshot may have also died, somehow, as a result of those heroic efforts. OR DID HE? again, I actually do not know at all. this is basically the knowledge equivalent of me overhearing half of a phone conversation between two people who were trying to recollect half of a phone conversation that they in turn overheard, several months earlier.

lastly, I know that Bakugou was apparently carrying around his All Might trading card from waaaay back in his chapter 118 flashbacks, in his pocket or something. because he's a giant fanboy nerd. who wanted All Might to sign it. but was too shy to ask I guess. "WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THIS SENSITIVE SIDE OF HIM COMING?? BAKUGOU CARES ABOUT THINGS??? HE REALLY DID LOOK UP TO ALL MIGHT JUST AS MUCH AS DEKU THE ENTIRE TIME??? WHAT A DEVASTATING REVEAL?!?" is how we were supposed to react to this, I'm guessing, lol. but I'll have you know that SOME of us have already written approximately 1200 essays on how much of a secretly sensitive All Might weeb Bakugou is, and so WERE ACTUALLY NOT SURPRISED AT ALL! yeah that's right! TAKE THAT HORIKOSHI. TRYING TO CATCH ME OFF GUARD AND MAKE ME CRY. WELL YOU WASTED YOUR GODDAMN TIME, because I would have cried anyway! and I did cry! and I will cry again!

anyway so yeah. and I think the card got blown up and/or otherwise destroyed somehow, just to add insult to injury. which, don't tell anyone, but between you and me, I'm not sure what he expected. "let me just take my precious limited edition All Might trading card, my most prized possession, along with me into the intense final battle with the final villain. for good luck or whatever. there's no way this could possibly end badly." did he even bother to put it in a zipper pocket. wtf were you thinking Katsuki. again I do not actually have the slightest idea since I have not actually read this chapter lol.

anyway! so that's everything I know! and let me just add to that a quick summary of things which I in turn do NOT know, the short version of which is: Literally Everything Other Than What I Just Typed Above. including but not limited to:

whether Bakugou actually was fighting Tomura, or AFO, or both. ??

who was fighting with him (except that for some reason or another Deku wasn't there, because I guess he fucked off to go do something else?? you and I fell into the exact same trap there, Deku. "surely Kacchan will be fine and dandy for the next five minutes or hours or days or however long while I go take care of this Other Important Business." yeah, you would think so, wouldn't you? BUT WE LEARNED OUR LESSON, DIDN'T WE.)

what Deku’s reaction was (but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say: PISSED)

literally anything else about the context of this fight, including where, when, and why it took place.

literally everything else that has happened in the manga since chapter 339. for real you guys. I just have to stress again how utterly out of the blue this was for me. to read this spoiler completely without context. WHAT HAVE THESE CHILDREN BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST NINE MONTHS. I'm terrified to learn the answers lol.

anyways but moving on now to the most important section of this post, starting with the one question which I think is by far the most pressing and important, and which I can thankfully answer with a single sentence.

4. "so... do you think he actually is dead?"

no lol.

but since you insist, here is my list of Reasons Why I Don't Think Bakugou Is Actually Dead, based on my nonexistent knowledge of the events of the past 40 chapters, and the actual context and details of his death. and I guarantee there is not a single point here which has not already been discussed to death on thousands of other blogs, but dammit I've been stuck without an outlet for all these thoughts since August, so the hell with it:

so for starters, in my experience, characters whose older selves narrate the story From The Future ("in that moment, there were no thoughts in my head... my body just moved on its own") tend to be pretty immune from dying, overall. just throwing that out there.

from day one, the series has made it very clear that this is the story of how Izuku becomes "the greatest hero" (more recently retconned/updated to become a pluralized "this is the story of how we ALL became the greatest heroes").

also from day one, Katsuki's narrative arc has been set up as a (first contrasting, and then later evolving to be more complementary) parallel to Izuku's, down to them having the same goal.

as the series has progressed, that concept of "becoming the greatest hero" has been further defined as "becoming a hero who always wins no matter what, and always saves everyone no matter what."

Katsuki in particular has expanded on this idea to emphasize that the greatest heroes are the ones who save EVERYONE, no matter what. "I made a pledge! I will achieve absolute victory, every time! we're taking this 4-0, no casualties! the strong don't settle for anything less!" and more recently, "because to live up to those ideals and surpass All Might... we gotta save you, the civilians at U.A., and the people on the streets. because saving people is how we win."

therefore, any victory in which either Katsuki or Izuku dies in order to defeat AFO is not a perfect victory, and will not result in them becoming the greatest heroes.

this is also a flagship Shounen Jump manga and the spiritual successor to the Big Three, meaning this would basically be the equivalent of killing off Sasuke or Zoro or Rukia. a.k.a. not gonna happen ever lol.

on top of that, it's also Horikoshi's tribute to Western comics, particularly those produced by Marvel, a.k.a. the guys who practically invented the No One Ever Stays Dead trope.

and last (actually not last but this really is getting too long) but not least, the number one reason why Katsuki cannot and will not actually die: because AFO does not get to win. seriously. he just doesn't. he got to kill All Might's important person and be all smug and cruel about it. he killed Nana's family and was all smug and cruel about it. he's tormented generations of heroes by deliberately targeting the people they love most. and so even without me knowing the actual context or circumstances of Katsuki's supposed "death", I have no doubt that's why it happened, because that's what AFO does. and that's who Deku loves. and so of course AFO would try it, yet again. that's his fucking modus operandi

but, because he is the final villain, we know he is going to lose in the end. and so this, imo, is the biggest and simplest reason why Katsuki isn't dead: because if he is actually dead, then AFO wins. even if he himself dies in the end. he gets to go down knowing that he took a part of the hero with him. he gets to hold on to that one last triumph. even though he loses, he keeps the hero from winning and saving, and he gets to savor that.

so, since we know that he's NOT going to win, because this is a "good guys win" type of story and not an "evil prevails, sorry, it's called REAL LIFE, bitches, enjoy your tears" type of story, that means that Katsuki is not actually dead. or will not stay dead. either way. period.

anyway so yeah! that's basically the gist, though by no means are these all of my comprehensive thoughts, and I can safely promise you many more rants to come, especially as I prepare to take on the challenge of reading through 39 new BnHA chapters with the foreknowledge of my son's untimely not-death looming in the back of my mind the whole time! looking forward to that! both ironically and unironically! should be interesting to say the least lol.

so on that note, one final q&a before we conclude:

5. "is it cool to discuss other manga spoilers with you?"

I would prefer not to, mainly in the hopes of trying to preserve as much of the "pure" unspoiled liveblog experience as possible, both for myself and for anyone else who cares to actually read said liveblogs. I do already feel bad for depriving people of the experience of watching me naively frolic my way through the upcoming arc(s) all BLISSFULLY UNAWARES lol. instead you'll have to settle for watching me timidly cry my way through while yelling at every single character who blindly tempts fate with their stupid foreshadowing comments. and don't even try to tell me there won't be foreshadowing comments. I know what type of story I'm reading. and more importantly, I know exactly the type of person who's writing it. ~*~gReAtEsT sCeNe~*~. you son of a bitch. THIS ISN'T OVER, HORIKOSHI.

anyway, so basically I would prefer to be as spoiler-free as possible, same as always. but I also no longer have the time or frankly the will to police every potential spoiler out there, so at the end of the day I'm pretty much just going to leave it up to you guys! also because I figure that at this point, WHAT'S THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN lol. (but for real there's probably a ton of important stuff that could easily be ruined still, so yeah if you don't mind let's just try to steer clear of all that lol.)

[taocc-updates]

Rant about taocc yayyy

I feel like taocc isn't taocc anymore, or atleast what it was made for/about. Now days we aren't doing silly or random rp's, we're doing fully fleshed out plans and having huge lore with past family's and remembering probably everything from before and after the headset. We remember everyone from our families to friends and even trips we had but mainly trauma for. Y'know. Lore purposes. Even then the characters aren't even tadc characters at this point, we have extreme resemblance or just complete humans at this point, any other cartnoonish or unrealistic characters that are left aren't or feel like they aren't important to taocc anymore (Bob, Sun, Neb, Kopi, Lantern, ect ect ect.). Also also, abstraction has pretty much never been a thing in taocc other than three times with Bob, Tiger, and Juko. Also also, we have full on other dimensions for some people or full on places that shouldn't exist from either no space on the digital island or because of they straight up kill/kidnap people (Home, that one repeated day place, kingdomquest ect) also also, the filter died a long time ago with the canon cast of Tadc. Also also, if you aren't rping with people you're talking with mods about life and interests which isn't bad that's a great factor but it just makes me feel like there's not enough rp that goes on even though there is and I'm just not seeing the blogs which the taocc updates blog doesn't fix anyways because not all of the mods know how/were invited to the blog, it's only main mods as I've been told they're called (me, Xeya, Hope, Jester, Soup, Elsie, Jeff).

Main point of all of this, I feel like the tadc part of taocc has been taken away and this place is just a fantasy rp that we've been saying is Tadc because of the branding. And for people that are new and just now seeing this RP group see all of this and think that we're too good for them because they're not only getting into the taocc group but they're trying to fit in which now days requires like alot of writing, well developed character, and a huge plan for this character that they're making. I feel like we should have an au or have some sort of limited time event for taocc that brings back the original taocc, atleast try to bring it back as best we can since most of the original mods are gone

You know, I’ve been thinking about this a decent bit lately, actually.

taocc is not what it started as, but the foundation is absolutely still there. C&A exists and is consistently important. Most of the base worldbuilding rules (moderator AI, abstraction, gimmicks, etc) are taken from TADC.

Also, side note, abstraction has been used TONS of times I’m sorry that’s literally just not true and I can list some, even if not everyone will know who/what I’m referring to. (Simon abstracted once, Mix got his wings from abstraction, Icia abstracted, Dusk nearly abstracted, sun abstracted once I think, alpen nearly abstracted once, Starro’s whole GIMMICK is based around abstraction, Achilles and Yume are stuck in half-abstraction, the list goes on!)

also also, taocc as we know it is a mash-together of 2 (maybe 3) different projects. To bring back the “original” taocc, we’d need to put those separations back into place, which is probably a bad idea.

is the worldbuilding a bit of a mess? Yes. Is it over complicated? Probably! Should we maybe work on putting that mess in order? Absolutely!

but I don’t think going backwards is a good idea, personally.

Edit: I almost forgot: as far as I can tell, every mod has access to this acct, it’s just that not all of them post here much.

Also, Kopi is still super important, and still the pink menace of all time.

[skylermadness]

A Minute in March (Ricky Matsui TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: March 31, 2022)

Original Description:

Say hello to the very first Dimension 20 TF in the world (probably)! This is a very long story I wrote alongside a friend of mine and I am so happy to finally share this! Ricky is honestly such a great character and to bring forth TF into him is something I am proud to do, especially something that ended up being 16 pages long in the end. This was definitely meant to be a silly thing since Ricky is frequently called Mr. March in the series, so I thought why not write a TF into him in March! I spent the past three months watching Dimension 20 and honestly it has been one of the best experiences I've had in a while! It is SUCH a great series and I fully recommend others watch it! Special thanks to my best friend for all the help editing this! They spent a lot of time doing so and I thank them so much...

   New York City.

   The Big Apple.

   A massive, metropolitan cityscape, home to towering skyscrapers, landmarks and monuments of all kinds, and a bustling population of over 8 million people- a city that never, ever sleeps. 

   Though, if we were here to go over every single one of them and what their deal was, we’d be here all day, amirite?

   We zoom in and find ourselves deep underground- this subway station is a crowded one, choked with people on their morning commute to work, just the same as our target… there. 

   Aaron Pearce, a man in his early 30s, wearing a dress shirt and tie, only slightly stained slacks, and a pair of loafers. He had been living in New York City for roughly a month at this point, having been sent here on a business trip by his company. It was a bit… jarring, at first, especially after having lived in a suburb for most of his life on the other side of the country- getting used to a life in the city where he’d see more people in a single day than he’d seen in his entire life up to that point could be uncomfortable at best, and downright suffocating at worst when he took the time to think about it. 

   But he’d settled down, for the most part. Gotten used to it as the weeks went on. He didn’t have the time to dwell on it, anyway- and honestly, who did, in this city? He had work to do.

   Suitcase in one hand, half-eaten bacon egg and cheese bagel in another, and phone squashed precariously between his ear, chin, and shoulder, half wishing he had an extra hand to keep the darn thing from falling to the ground and cracking again. Aaron’s eyes wander listlessly across the crowd of New Yorkers sprawled out across the subway, waiting for one subway line or another. Just like he was. …And that meant he was a New Yorker himself, didn’t it?

   Well… he wished it felt that way, at least.

   Aaron hastily swallowed another bite of his bagel to promptly respond to the co-worker on the other end of the call, who had just posed a question with the natural expectation for an answer. 

   “Yeah, I’ve got everything ready for the presentation today.” He mentally ran through the list of what he had planned for said presentation at work, then while he’s at it, jumped to another project he was working on, also for work. A moment later between the call and more bites of his bagel, Aaron idly looked down at his watch, and sighed. “Do these trains ever come on time?” A soft chuckle escaped his chest as he asked. He already knew the answer.

   “Not a chance- it’s a miracle we barely even get to work on time at all!” his co-worker, Marshall- also in New York on the same trip- laughs from the other end of the line.

   “Yeah- though, I could swear it’s never too late, y’know? Honestly, it sort of has it’s charm like that- at least its inconvenience is consistent, right?”

   “Sure seems that way. Personally, I genuinely believe it’d take nothing short of a literal act of magic to get these things to work on time.”

   Aaron rolled his eyes, a smile finding its way onto his face. “Yeah, and your taxis are so much better.”

   “Hm, sounds like someone’s jealous they didn’t integrate well enough to figure out how to taxi like a normal person.”

   Aaron shoved the last bit of his bagel in his mouth when the conversation lulled, letting his gaze drift over to follow the subway tracks and across all the waiting people. He found his own thoughts slowing as he chewed- a short moment of respite. That did not come often in his new routine. 

   Even rarer, did it come, when there was only a single thought on his mind.

   Shuffling his items around his now partially free arms to hold his phone properly again, Aaron swallowed his bagel quickly and spoke up, breaking the call's silence.

   "You ever think about living here… permanently? Outside the business trip, I mean."

   There was a short pause on the other end of the line, before Marshall answered him.

   "A little, yeah. I won't lie, there's a lot in this city that beats home hands down, but the public transit really stinks. Can't stand it."

   "Really? That's your only problem with this place?" Aaron snorted. He wondered if Marshall counted taxis as part of that judgment.

   "...I mean, pretty much? Why?"

   "I just think-" Aaron broke off and sighed. "I don't know… this is just such a nice place. Maybe it's the atmosphere, or the different weather from home, but- I just wish we didn't have to leave at the end of March."

   "You sure the paycheck bump isn't starting to get to you?" Marshall joked. "Come on, you know how much of a chokehold the company's got on our work shit. No chance they're letting us stay any more than we have to so they can drop our salaries back down again."

   Aaron blustered out a frustrated sigh. He knew that…

   "Please, I'm being serious."

   "Fine, fine, alright. …I wouldn't mind if I could stay living here for a bit longer either, I'll be honest. The food's great here, and my place is only a block away from the mall. That's walking distance! Crazy, right?" There's a sigh on the other end of the line. "I still don't think it's likely at all that the company would let either of us stay for longer- but hey, if it were to happen anywhere, it'd be here in the city of dreams now, wouldn't it?"

   There was no inflection in the end of Marshall's sentence outside the humor of an intended joke, but something about it had a feeling rising in Aaron's stomach that he couldn't parse. He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden rushing of air and pressure and people announced to Aaron that his train had arrived, and snapped him out of that slight daze.

   "Oh, the sub's here, gotta go."

   “Well, if you want to hang up that much…”

   People started walking past Aaron towards the open subway cars, and he hastily gathered his work supplies to follow. 

   “I’m not going to be on my phone in the middle of public transit, that’s basic public manners.” Aaron shook his head as he approached the train. “I’ll see you at work today, but do you wanna meet up for coffee sometime later too?”

   “Sure, sounds good to me. Work’s got me by the wringer, but I’ll let you know when I’d be good to go. See ya at work, Pearce.”

   Aaron’s phone hung up without fanfare, but it left him with a slight pause before he moved further.

   “The city of dreams, huh…” he whispered to himself, feeling the weight of something he somehow knew he could hardly understand settle on his tongue. The thought did not leave his mind as he boarded the train.

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

   The subway car was just as crowded as the station had been, as usual. People took their seats or stood when necessary, smooshed up next to each other or having others jutt into their personal space, but they all mostly kept to themselves, retreating into their own personal bubbles as best they could amidst the uncomfortable arrangements- more unspoken public transit manners. Aaron followed suit, hastily opening up his suitcase and laptop inside it to work. His eyes ran over a PowerPoint file he had open, that he had been working on for two weeks now- an important, critical asset, highly crucial for the growth of the company and the industry as a whole. 

   …Or so the daily emails asking about progress updates went on and on about, as if the mere assurance of the company’s benefit from all the work and polish Aaron put into this would make the process any less of a dull slog. It’d be over soon, though, he just had to check for edits one last time before he arrived at work.

   Aaron focused in on his laptop, too engrossed in his work to notice anything else that might have been happening, just as the rest of the passengers were. Not one of them noticed the near invisible wisps of something beginning to flicker through the air, trailing down the length of the subway car, gathering together with more and more wisps until they had become a swarm distorting the very air. Not a single passenger saw the little motes of motes of golden light, the same color as the sun shining through and between the city skyscrapers, floating past in the same direction, bobbing gently among the invisible current. 

   No one saw, and the movements of the passengers on the subway car began to slow, gently, gradually, before being left absolutely still. Aaron began to fall still in turn, his mind attributing the sensation of time passing strangely to one that occured whenever he was working hard on something, and his attention slipped off of it without a second thought. But before he could fall victim to this strange fate his fellow passengers seemed to have fallen into, however, a new feeling rose in his chest instead- his stomach jumped like he'd gone over a speed bump too fast. But wasn't he on the subway, not in a car? 

   The rising pressure in his chest blurred his vision, and he rubbed his eyes a little in reflex. His vision cleared just in time for another golden orb of light floating just past his eyes- that he could see.

   Aaron's eyes flew wide open with shock as his gaze shot around the subway car, taking in the glowing golden lights, the wispy distortions, even the almost absurd lack of reaction from the other passengers. 

   Aaron distractedly shut his suitcase and laptop, his excessively checked and double checked presentation the furthest thing from his mind. He stood up, and lurched a bit- the subway car was still moving, and he quickly adjusted himself before he lost balance. Looking around at the other passengers, Aaron realized- gradually, haltingly, as if he were in a dream- that the others were not moving at all, or even breathing… like they had been frozen in time.

   Aaron was not sure where the idea had come from, but it did made sense, in the moment. Something strange going on with time would certainly explain why a stop hadn't been called in so long.

   Aaron walked down the aisle hesitantly, yet firmly, the subway car once familiar, now liminal. He stood against the wispy current, feeling actual pressure pushing against him, like a particularly strong wind. 

   In response the sensation in his chest grew, then bubbled up, and he blinked and gasped aloud. Whatever dream-like state he had been in, and whether it had only began when he stepped onto the subway or it had lasted for his whole life up to this point, he was awake and aware and alive- there was fear, and trepidation, and apprehension, but carried anticipation among it all.

   He reached the head of the car and watched the motes of golden light with cautious eyes. By now the wispy current had caught enough golden light of the orbs in its wake and refracted it, scattering it around and almost seeming to bathe the car around him in a warm golden haze. His skin and work attire stood out among the gold, the lone figure moving in a frozen gold world. Just to check, he waved a hand in front of a passenger he was walking by, and did not receive an annoyed glare in return. 

   Aaron shuddered and let out a sigh. The liminality of the space was starting to get to him.

   “Keep it together, come on.” He clapped his hands on his face and looked back through the subway car one last time. His eyes ran over the golden haze, the very air rippling and distorting in consistent enough ways as the ocean tide would, the numerous passengers frozen to the spot mid-movement, and stepped through the door to the next car.

   Peering through the doorway, Aaron saw that this car was in much the same situation as the last, with time seeming to stand still for all but the tide and the subway cars themselves, still rushing through the dark. No one else experiencing the same phenomenon to talk with, as he'd silently hoped for. When asking himself what exactly had caused all of this, Aaron was truly at a loss. It could be all just a dream, that had been his first guess, or maybe some sort of work-stress induced hallucination, but it felt a bit all too real to be simply that, he knew he was just fooling himself trying to believe it wasn't… 

   But wasn't the only other alternative that this was all real?

   Aaron went cross eyed as something passed in his vision too close to his face, snapping him out of the train of thought. Another larger mote of light, among thousands of others the size of golden dust, gently carried by the invisible current down the line of subway cars. 

   "What… are you?" Aaron's voice was barely a whisper, as if he was worried he'd startle it away if he spoke too loud. The light only continued to bob in response, like some sort of drunken gnat.

   Whatever it was, Aaron was almost certain it was connected to the time stop. He didn't even know what they were, but curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. Aaron reached out, and closed his hand around it.

   In an instant, a scene so vivid and real he could have mistaken it for one of his own memories flashed before his eyes.

   The building was burning. Smoke choked the air and the flames snapped at him from all sides. A child was clinging to him as he bolted through the ember filled halls, the air laid thick with heat. He was forced to swerve and dodge as a charred beam of wood collapsed in front of him, but he stayed calm, he knew what he had to do. Something- what he had- he had to do to-

   Aaron gasped and stumbled back, a headache hitting him and forcing him to release his grip. The golden mote of light still hung there in the air, though almost seeming a bit more subdued, while Aaron reconfigured. "What… was that? It almost felt like…"

   He trailed off as his gaze caught on the orb of light again. His panic subsided as he gazed into the golden glow, and felt… compelled to touch it again. It wasn't finished yet, he somehow knew. Incomplete. 

   He took a few steps forward, and his heartrate quickened as he reached out a hand and grasped it once more.

   -He knew what he had to do to save the kid.

   How familiar the vision felt, how real the sensations of adrenaline and determination shooting through his veins while it played out, how foreign it should have felt but didn't even feel wrong that it had placed him in the first person perspective, it almost felt like…

   "…Like a memory…" Aaron breathed, letting it play out within his mind once more.

   His breathing quickened, and with each breath something began to settle within him. At first was the feeling of warmth- not scorching and ravaging, like the memory of fire had been- but a gentle warmth enveloping him, like someone bigger and stronger than him that he knew with a certainty would protect him no matter what was wrapping him up in a protective, caring hug. 

   Aaron somehow felt more comfortable and safe than he'd felt in the longest time- but his breathing didn't relax. His breaths instead began to deepen and strengthen, seeming to fill out his body as it began to grow. His frame expanded, shoulders broadening and shaped itself out into a sculpted, almost intoxicatingly masculine form. His shirt very quickly seemed to stretch taught under the pressure as his chest barreled out, and almost sent him doubling over. Pectorals inflated and solidified into thick slabs, together forming a massive shelf that hung over a set of hard abdominals pushing forward- all visible through his shirt, straining at the buttons.

   Still carefully drinking in everything the memory had to offer, Aaron absently reached up his free hand to loosen his tie, to the relief of his neck thickening to match the proportions of his new frame. The sleeves of his dress shirt began to tighten in turn, the delts and biceps and triceps swelling and further filling out the projected shape of masculinity his shoulders had established. His larger, stronger lungs began to find- not difficulty, but rather resistance, in the form of his dress shirt- now seeming almost comically small on his larger, powerful torso. 

   Aaron groaned and rubbed at a building headache, inadvertently releasing his grip on the mote of light and missing that it had completely disappeared from the space it had been in when he grasped it. He undid a button or two of his dress shirt- god, he could have sworn it felt fine this morning- and glanced around at the golden haze, even more of the bobbing golden motes of light drifted down the line, carried by the tide.

   "There's so many-" His throat went dry and closed up, he coughed a bit to clear it and tried again. "There's so many more of these little things, huh…" Wait- was that his voice? Did it sound different than before? It did sound different, didn't it- it was deeper, and there was an inflection in his voice that he couldn't place. 

   Aaron walked through the fog of gold and amidst more of those glowing golden lights, watching them closely. Part of him didn't want to bother with them further, they were most definitely related to what was happening to the other passengers. But that part was drowned out the more he thought about that memory, and how comfortable it had felt. It had been of an extremely dire situation, yes, but there had been an overwhelming sense of positivity and optimism emanating through the demeanor he held and the way he carried himself. Like he could save the day. Like everything was going to turn out alright. Like…

   "Nothing bad is ever going to happen to us…" Aaron whispered to himself, finishing the thought. In an instant, with reflexes he had not ever thought himself capable of before, he reached out his arm and his hand snapped shut around another mote of light floating lazily past him. His eyes widened at the sight of his new defined, muscled arm before he was swept up in another memory.

   Smoke. He could smell it on the wind, even just the faintest traces of it, miles and miles away from him and his jurisdiction. A series of scenes flashed soon thereafter, of dashing through the streets of New York, of diving into the freezing waters of the New York Bay, of swimming at what must have been nigh-superhuman speed- the ferry wasn't fast enough. All powered by that strong, ever present desire to help, and to save whoever was in danger, that simply permeated his everyday life. That sense of…

   Of…

   "…Civic duty…"

   Aaron's arms swelled further, bulkier and muscular, as the memory continued to play, accepting it as his own. The musculature of his arms was left rock solid and truly bulging out of the sleeves of his dress shirt. Strong enough for hugs, of course, and strong enough to protect. His hands followed suit shortly after, widening palms and thickening fingers to match his larger arms, and Aaron felt the power, his power, surge through them. The strength his upper body carried was very clearly not a brutish type- but rather, a kind one.

   More memories began to play- if Aaron could wrench his focus away from the visions playing in his mind, he'd see the motes of light gravitating towards him on their own, rather than aimlessly following the tide, bringing their own distinct memories- now his. As the lights began to coalesce, Aaron felt another feeling rise within him, like a light illuminating in his chest and coursing through his body, that shined the same gold as the dust around him. The light of warmth, comfort, civic responsibility and duty filled his body and mind, and he couldn’t help but relax as the light made its home in his mind. Had he been clenching his jaw so hard this whole time? Aaron rolled his broad shoulders and thick neck, smoothing out all the kinks that he’d been used to from hunching over a computer for work all day, and found his face slipping into a more relaxed grin. It was all of a sudden even harder to be worried about the “critical asset” that he needed to prepare for his work- he wanted to help people, more than anything, and the only thing the presentation would do would be helping the company. And the company wasn’t a person- so it just wasn’t as important to Aaron anymore, his priorities shifting with his demeanor as that civic light filled his mind. The train of thought made perfect sense to him.

   The memory of swimming through the New York Harbor returned, and in the memory… he reached the remains of a burnt down house, somewhere on an island that he’d smelled the smoke of miles away. Aaron recalled the details that came after- there were no casualties, thankfully, and the friend of his that had been living in the house had been safe elsewhere at the time of the fire-

   “Wait, I… no, that’s not right…” Aaron stepped back, laying a hand on his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. The memories were foreign, of someone else’s life, the memories were his, they were real and he’d lived through them, the memories were changing his mind somehow, the memories were confirming who he was- thoughts swirling around in his mind almost made him dizzy. Rather unhelpfully, in that moment he registered that his body was largely different from before, to which all he could think to react with was slightly furrowing his brows and uttering, “That’s definitely not right either…”

   But something about it did feel right to him. All of his apprehension and fear when first approaching the lights had all but completely melted away, and he didn’t want to fear it either, anymore. He wanted to embrace it.

   He lifted up a hand, smiling a bit as he took note of just how big it was, and felt around his body a little- squeezing his wrist, then his arm, occasionally trailing a finger down the noticeable indents his arm muscles had carved into the sleeves of his poor dress shirt. His hand drew over to above his heart, where the warm feeling felt the strongest.

   Not because it was also where most of his massive pectorals were. Nor did he leave his hand resting on said pectorals for more than just a few moments. Nor did he play with them.

   Thankfully because of the spot Aaron left his hand, he felt his chest expanding further sooner than he would have otherwise, giving him enough time for his large hands to clumsily undo the rest of the dress shirt’s tiny buttons before disaster struck. And not a moment too soon- Aaron’s eyes widened in awe as his abdominal muscles chiseled out into a rippling 8-pack, and the shelf formed by his pectorals jutted out even further, reaching their peak- at least, the result of all the hard work and working out he’d taken to get there. He was almost tempted to flex, just to show off his gains- but given the state of his strained clothes, that likely wasn’t a good idea, for now. He took to tracing his fingers around more of his bodily muscles like he did with his arms, instead- and while it did feel a bit silly and self indulgent of Aaron, it also felt… fine. There was nothing wrong with showing off his body like this- even unprompted on the subway, though he himself did feel a bit guilty for it, this was New York- people have seen weirder. Hell, he’d seen weirder, even before he was inducted into the Unsleeping City. 

   But nonetheless, it was all starting to feel more right. It was starting to feel like him.

   It really was him.

   The conclusion seemed to unlock something within him, setting off another wave of changes- this time to his work attire rather than his body. The ever-faithful dress shirt still barely clinging to his body was finally allowed its rest, as it loosened and reached over his uncovered torso to hide it again- buttons disappearing and shirt halves joining together by themselves, shirt collar disappearing into a plain shirt neck, sleeves rolled up and turned to a clear blue hue while the torso of his shirt stayed a clean white- the new nice, casual t-shirt was still quite snug enough to be… pretty revealing.

   His tie undid itself and slithered down his shirt and through the belt loop holes of his slacks, though to his surprise it instead lost color and mass until it was nothing but a white string- the use of which became apparent as his pants changed next. Aaron’s nice slacks lightened from black to gray and the fabric softened to cottony material, becoming a comfortable, loose pair of sweatpants- with a white drawstring quickly tying itself into a knot at his waist. He found himself smiling softly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his new sweatpants, reaching much deeper than the slacks could carry.

   The pair of loafers he wore were last to go- the slick, black cloth reshaping into something more useful, well-worn, comfortable. Aaron held out a foot to watch as the changes settled in, a roughness inlaid in the material, the laces tied messily, a tongue emerging from the top as they formed into a pair of black, yellow, and white sneakers, perfect for walking or running places easily, and safe for swim in water with. It’s good to be prepared, especially after an incident like last time.

   Aaron set his foot down and let out a content sigh. His pants and shoes felt a bit big, but he didn’t doubt that would be resolved soon. He glanced down the length of the subway car in both directions. Most of the little light orbs in this car were gone, having been attracted to the man almost magnetically and absorbed, but there were still some stragglers hanging back around toward the car he had come from. He nodded to himself, “Well, might as well finish cleaning up while I’m here.”

   The next few seconds could not pass quickly enough- he took step after step towards the door, and the motes of light began to draw closer to the man in return, eager to gather around him and be absorbed, in rapid succession than slow, one at a time, like they had before. 

   Memories played out again and again, but this time the man neither winced nor closed his eyes to think about them separately, consciously. Locations, people, contexts, so much was being given to him, the unfamiliar becoming natural, the strange suddenly making sense. It was a little headache inducing, but he wasn’t afraid. He knew he was going to like his new life… or rather, he liked his life, craziness and all. That was what he meant, right?

   While the floodgates were broken and memories poured in, the rest of his body made to fit the rest of what had already been changed. Each step he took, his leg muscles grew larger, thicker. Strong quads and hamstrings and bulging calves, perfect for running or bringing help to those who’d need him. His sweatpants seemed less and less loose as his legs grew- his glutes in particular growing to fill out his pants quite nicely. At the end of his legs his feet grew larger, filling out the sneakers properly with their size.

   One last sensation began to well up in the man’s large chest- one that he quickly recognized as his own magic aura of protection, emanating its calming presence as it always did- but for some reason, the man felt he could really feel its effects on himself, as if he hadn’t felt it for a while. He laid a hand on the door back to his old car, his eyes flicked back to the haze tinted gold. He didn’t need to activate his divine senses to recognize it as raw umbra bubbling up from the World of Dreaming again, like in the months leading up to Null’s attack on the city. But why was it here now…?

   Another deep breath, calm, warm. He could bring it up with the friend he was meeting up for tea with, if it struck the man as concerning enough. That’s where he was going that he decided to take the subway to travel to, right? It’d be nice to see them again, his friends’ names on the tip of his tongue.

   He let his eyes close and felt a bit of numbness run through his skull, as his facial structure reconstructed himself. His head grew a little larger and wider to fit the rest of his body proportions, jawline shifting into a handsome, masculine one. So many little touches, in his nose, his ears, his chin, preparing him for the man he was ready to become. His hair deepened to jet black, the style eagerly shifting from combed to short and messy, endearingly so.

   The signs of a lifelong New Yorker set deep into his face, his posture, his attitude. His old knowledge of the inner machinations of corporate enterprises faded into a network of important safety information. His suddenly renewed affinity for maintaining his personal fitness and helping others with their own brought a smile to his face as he pushed open the door.

   Ricky Matsui walked back into the subway car, back towards his seat.

   He couldn’t really remember why he’d gotten up in the first place, but those questions were pretty quickly dismissed when he saw the golden-tinted raw umbra still permeating the subway car, all the passengers still stuck in time. 

   …He wasn’t sure what to do about that, still. Whoops. Although- there was at least one noticeable difference that Ricky hadn’t noticed from before when he entered the car.

   Stumbling around down the aisle, knocking into time-frozen passengers and snarling at anyone they touched, was a werewolf. They had coarse, brown fur covering most of their body, and a thick mane of slightly more well groomed fur surrounding their head, though it had seen better days. Bits of fur poke out of holes from their denim jacket, undershirt, and severely torn up pants, though some may have been from intentional styling as such rather than accidents. They also seemed to be missing a shoe, revealing a large clawed paw.

   If the lack of reaction from any of the passengers were any indicator, the werewolf seemed pretty out of place. It could be another manifestation of anti-populi, which Ricky could dispatch here and now if that was the case… his eyes flicked over to his silver bat he’d left at the side of his seat. For one strange moment, the thought of swinging it like a club to attack someone almost seemed absurd and silly- before he blinked and remembered that’s how baseball bats were used in the first place. He shook away the strange thought and returned to the most pressing matter.

   It didn’t really seem likely that they had to do with anti-populi, though, since it seemed to be localized to just one person. Ricky sniffed the air with his enhanced sense of smell, and tasted the smell of alcohol coming from the creature’s muzzle. Poor guy must have been pretty drunk, and badly handling it- he might be the violent type, based on the way he was acting. But maybe if Ricky could just calm him down a little…

   Ricky cautiously trodded towards the seat the werewolf had collapsed into, and sat down in the open empty seat next to them, actually a few seats down from where he got up from. Throwing up Calm Emotions on top of his Aura of protection, he opened with a simple “Hey.”

   The creature’s eyes focused in on him from where they were darting around erratically. They growled for a moment, then sputtered in a guttural, yet vaguely Irish accent, “…hey.”

   “You, uh… doin’ alright?”

   They snarled instead of answering, and irritatedly scratched their arm, inadvertently adding a few more rips to their jacket.

   Ricky hummed. That was pretty stupid of him to ask. “What’s your name?”

   The werewolf practically scowled at him. “Jawbone. Jawbone O’Sss..” his speech slurred a little, “...ssh..shaughnessey.”

   “I’m Ricky Matsui,” Ricky reciprocated, giving his full name back, with a smile and a thumbs up. Something about the gesture tugged a bit of a smile on Jawbone’s muzzle, but he turned away and scratched himself some more, and harder. Ricky raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to talk about what’s got you, uh, real bummed?”

   “‘m drunk on a train, fer one thing,” Jawbone glanced around at the subway car and its frozen passengers. “Wrong train, too. I tried to get off before it started moving, but too many people got in the way and nobody even looks at me when I ask for directions. Nobody ‘til you now, anyway…”

   “Yeah. I think something weird is going on, on top of all that? In like, the magic kind of weird, I mean. Uh, you’re really scratching yourself a lot, are you good-”

   “Allergies.” Jawbone snapped, growling at the other passengers again, who remained blissfully unaware. “Apparently these arseholes don’t seem to know it’s polite to conceal their silver in public spaces!” Jawbone raised his voice through the sentence and spat out the last part.

   Ricky’s thoughts immediately jumped to his magic silver baseball bat and winced. 

   “Uhh, hold on-” Ricky leaned back over to his seat and knocked over his bat, and rolling it under the seat it was leaning against. Thankfully, that was the only thing he had brought with him on the subway. “Sorry about that, realized it was at least partly my fault-” Ricky startled a bit when Jawbone just seemed to start crying at the gesture. “Hey, hey, it’s okay!’

   “It… it really ain’t,” the werewolf choked out between sniffles, “This entire day has been utter shite. First I forgot to take my meds before heading to work, hoped I wouldn’t get sensory overload, got sensory overload, you know how it is. Didn’t bring any backup medication on me either, so I had to improvise and tried snorting some drugs I had on me to help, but didn’t- turns out something I thought was cocaine was actually something else I’d never even heard of before, that I’m not even sure was drugs! No idea how I got to this place, I don’t know where the hell I am, and as best I can gather I’m not even on a train bound for out of the city!” Jawbone began pouring out, Ricky doing his best to support Jawbone physically before he collapsed from a stroke, or something.

   Ricky rubbed Jawbone’s shoulder, and when he didn’t resist, brought him closer into a consoling hug. “I’m sorry, that sounds really messed up.”

   “Ricky, you’re… the only person who’s actually noticed me and talked to me this… entire time,” Jawbone sniffled between hiccups.

   A soft, golden glow began to emanate from Ricky’s hand as he rubbed the werewolf’s shoulder. “Hey, I bet I could help you. I’ve lived in New York all my life, I’ve gotten the hang of the subways pretty well, I can help you get back on track, once we hit a stop and I, uh, know where we are at the moment.”

   The sniffling began to slow as not only Ricky’s calming, civic aura helped wash away Jawbone’s anxiety and fears, but even the mundane act of someone offering to help in his time of stress helped bring Jawbone back from the angry, hostile mess he’d been earlier. 

   “Yeah… yeah, I’d like that…” The werewolf looked up at Ricky’s face one more time, with a look in his eye that was likely meant to look different when not drunk and potentially high. “Gods, annyone ever tell ya yer hot as Ffffffffffffffuc-k?” Jawbone popped that last -k out loud in his mouth, then groaned to himself. “Uuuugh, ‘m usually way better at this, even when smashed, I swear…”

   Ricky laughed in spite of himself. “Sorry, I’ll have to ask my partner about it before we think of adding a third.” He’d give Jawbone the chance to make a better first impression than this encounter before he made any solid judgments himself, too. “But yeah, I do get recognized a lot as Mr. March from the Firefighters’ calendar. Or at least, the 2019 version…”

   The two of them sat there and talked for what felt like hours, Ricky talking about his friends, and Esther, and his time being a firefighter, and Jawbone told him about some wild and often drug filled escapades, rattling off lists of drugs so many drugs and the amazing partners he’d had in the past, surprising Ricky that Jawbone had apparently settled down and was a dad himself too- well, Ricky wasn’t one yet, but he would be one very soon- and gotten a job as a school guidance counselor. Jawbone hadn’t itched or scratched once, and Ricky’s aura seemed to really calm him down. He felt so calming, even talking to Ricky was a soothing experience.

   As time went on, or rather didn’t go on, it was a surprise for the both of them when the train sounded the soft ding that played before a stop was called. “Now arriving, Elmville Station.”

   Jawbone’s wolfish ears perked up. “Elmville… that should be my stop…”

   Ricky grinned and gave his shoulder a little shake. “Hey, that’s great! Maybe you weren’t on the wrong train after all.”

   “I uh… maybe.”

   Jawbone stood up, a little shakily, as the subway began to slow. The doors opened once fully stopped, and Jawbone made to walk over, but paused to give Ricky a wave of departure. Ricky beamed back at him and gave a wave back. With one last pang of warmth in his chest, Jawbone only slightly stumbled leaving the cars- onto a station platform that looked to have been built outdoors in the open air, that Ricky didn’t recognize. It almost looked more like a classic railway station than a subway stop.

   Ricky wasn’t given too much of a chance to dwell on it, though, as the doors closed and the subway began moving again. Ricky watched as the golden haze of raw umbra finally began to dissipate and the other passengers began to move again, continuing about their business as if nothing had ever happened. Ricky didn’t have any business to work on himself, he was just there for the ride to Pete’s tea shop-bookstore, but he was glad that everyone in the area was safe. 

   …There was a strange sense of finality that hung in the air, now that he was back in the waking world, but he couldn’t tell why or what for.

   He shrugged.

   “At least this would make a nice story to tell Cody.”

   As if on cue, the train dinged and Ricky’s stop was called. He didn’t know what that feeling meant, or what caused it, but somehow, he was almost certain it wasn’t a bad thing. A part of him that seemed to know better than he himself did seemed to prefer it, even. Whatever “it” was.

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

   “Dude, wait, so you’re telling me you saw a werewolf on the subway and he was just. Chill?”

   “Yep. I mean, no, he was pretty down on his luck, but he turned out alright when I helped him out.”

   “Dope… that’s got to be like, the coolest werewolf on a subway story I’ve ever heard. Even though I only knew of one other before this one.”

   Ricky was definitely right, Cody did end up hooked hearing about this experience of his.

   “Yeah, and he told me a lot of stories about doing crazy stuff while on a lot of drugs- some of which sounded made up, but like, I don't do drugs myself so I couldn't tell anyway."

   "That’s so cool, dude. So wait, like- if he was on the wrong line, you think he might've been from Jersey or something?"

   Ricky sighed. “Honestly, I hope not. I don’t think I could take Esther to go visit him if he was, even if I was sure I wanted to.” He shook his head. “But I dunno. Part of me was thinking it could have also been anti-populi, but it seemed a bit too localized for that. Maybe it’s just weird dream world stuff?”

   Their friend Pete arrived from nearby, pouring them refills of tea from his arcane focus teapot, which also served just delicious tea. “Might be- but I think it might have been part of something weird going on instead, I’ve been getting some weird vibes between the Waking and Dreaming worlds lately.”

   Cody looked at Pete in surprise. “Damn- you think it’s that serious?”

   Pete nodded. “I was gonna message the group about it earlier, but I was bit busy to do it until you reminded me just now, actually.” He pulled out his phone and started texting with one hand, preparing to close the shop with the other. “You guys up for checking it out today?”

   “Yeah, my shift at the Fairyland park ended an hour ago, so I’m good to go. You, Ricky?”

   “Yep, I’ll text Esther and let her know.”

   Even though they were only in the researching and planning stage, a glow of anticipation lit up in Ricky Matsui’s heart. The time to once again help and protect New York City from danger he could feel was fast approaching, and he could not wait to stand together with his fellow Heroes of New York to do so.

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part IX

Read Looking for Space here // Playlists here // Read on wattpad

Word Count: ~3600

Warnings: sexy time

A/N: I always have a lot of writing all the boys into these series. Hope you enjoy <3

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It felt as though I had permanent butterflies in my stomach since Josh proposed. Every time I looked at my ring, the diamond like a brilliant little piece of the moon and the tiny blue stars surrounding it, those invisible butterflies fluttered with even more fervor, and I had trouble concentrating on anything but the wedding. Josh and I set a date that same night at the beach–January 18th–and since then I’d begun writing a list of everything I needed to do step by step. 

First, we had to tell everyone. We told the boys together when we were able to reconvene in person and my butterflies were scattering like mad when we did. But their three individual reactions were so amusing to me that they erased a good chunk of the nerves–Danny first looked surprised, wide-eyed and mystified in the dim, warm light of the bustling restaurant, until Sam reached across the booth we were sitting in to smack Josh on the arm. Then they both burst into huge grins and jovial cheers while Jake said “wow,” smiled in his own quiet way and asked to look more closely at the ring. 

Though I’d been a part of their lives for years, there had still been a part of me that worried they’d object to this no matter everything they’d said to assure me of the opposite. But the celebrations began instantly, with Jake ordering all of us drinks and appetizers and being the first one to make a poetic but concise toast, to which Sam said it’d been long enough and Danny asked if we’d set a date. 

“January,” I told him. “January 18th.”

“So soon,” Danny said.

“Not really,” Josh replied, taking a sip of his whiskey, and I knew he was saying that in part just to keep me calm as well as keep all of them calm. It felt like all this time would go by in the blink of an eye. “About seven months. Plenty of time.”

“I’ve never been a groomsman before,” Sam mused, grinning, looking positively lethal and beautiful, just as any Kiszka or Wagner groomsman should be, I thought. “This wedding is going to be a riot.”

“Is that a warning?” I asked with a laugh.

“It’s a promise. It’s the first wedding of our group–it has to be absolutely outlandish.”

“You and Danny will be next,” I joked, and Danny snorted. 

“Yeah, right,” Danny was quick to say. “You think Sam would ever let anyone lock him down?”

“Rude,” Sam replied with a scoff and leaned against Danny’s shoulder. “I’m a total catch, just hard to catch and keep.” 

“Jake will be the best man, of course,” Josh interjected, smiling at his twin who was caught between the two bickering boys and the window. “And there’s three of you, so there will be three bridesmaids to match.”

“Well, one maid of honor, two bridesmaids,” I added. “Kirsti, obviously, Bev and Jane.”

“Jane?” Jake repeated, eyebrows rising. 

I was going to inquire about that curious look on his face until Sam said, “Oh, right. Only three–I forgot you have no friends.”

“Now who’s the rude one?” Despite that, I laughed again, already a little buzzed from the emotional reveal and the bit of tequila twirling in my stomach. “We’re trying to keep it small anyway. Close friends and family only.”

“Is Bev okay with us being corresponding members of the party or whatever?” Sam took a drink and leaned back, lying his arm back across the booth behind Danny. “We did date–or whatever–for a little while.”

Somewhat secretly, I’d really wanted that to work out. But Sam was not exactly a one-woman man. The only person he seemed to want to be fully monogamous with was Danny. “She’s fine with it. I already asked.”

Sam hummed, looking up for a moment then back at me. “How’s she looking these days?”

“Better than when you were with her.”

He held a hand over his chest. “Ouch. Of course.”

“Are you all gonna go stag? Bring dates,” I encouraged. “We can make room for some plus ones.”

“We haven’t had much time for romance,” Jake said. 

“Other things though, I’m sure,” Josh said, smirking behind his glass. As he drank, he put his hand on my thigh beneath the table and I relaxed even more, warm and happy in a way I’d never known before. We were beginning another new chapter and we didn’t have to do it alone. 

After the boys, we told both of our parents–I was actually more nervous to tell my own than Josh’s but, to my great relief, both my mom and dad seemed genuinely pleased, maybe even outright happy, about it. Echoes of my mom’s past reservations about Josh came to my mind, as did the conversation I had with my dad years prior about love and the love I had for Josh, but I’d known all along that everyone else’s perceptions never mattered. Besides, it really was all in the past. My parents adored the little loon that had stolen my heart. Josh was good through and through, a better person than many, and I could only envision a wondrous, beautiful, secure life with him that really was until death. 

“Most everyone else will be told via formal invitation,” Josh said after I had returned from my parent’s house. He was lounging on the couch that was a little too worn in next to me, scrolling through his phone, something he seldom did. It was only because the upcoming wedding and I found it adorable and endearing that he was staying so involved in all of it. “Where do we even get those?”

I peered at his phone. “You’re already on a website that sells them, babe. Nothing wrong with ordering them. I bet it’s cheaper.”

“Right, who knows.” He sat up and moved in closer, bringing the phone between us. “There are so many designs. It’s a little overwhelming. What do we want?”

“Should we wait for the engagement photos? I want everyone to see your beautiful face when they open the invitations.”

Josh grinned at me. “No, yours. But yes, you’re right. We still have to do that and I have the perfect photographer to do it.”

“Someone you work with, I presume.” I grinned back at him. “That would be perfect. Are they expensive?”

“I doubt it. But I’ll text her right now.” Josh looked down, busy typing away. “She could do our wedding photos too. I’ll show you her portfolio.” 

I thought for a moment, then groaned. “Wait, I just realized–we have to book the venue before we even do the invitations.” I reached for my laptop on the coffee table. “I forgot to do that before. Shit.”

Josh rubbed my back. “There’s so much to do. I forgot too.” 

With an outdoor wedding out of the question, we’d searched for something that would shield us all from the cold but still resonate with both of us and something that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg and, thankfully, we’d found it. A beautiful, rustic and charming lodge just a little ways north, perched on a small hill and surrounded by firs and pines. As soon as I’d seen the pictures online, I could picture the other pieces–the flowers and greenery, the candles, tablecloths, the food and the cake. Suddenly Pinterest had become a hobby of mine. 

Josh threw his phone aside against the arm of the couch and snuggled up to me. “Let’s take a break. All of this can wait, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sort of. Some of this stuff actually can't wait,” I answered, though I knew I couldn’t resist; I closed the laptop and set it aside. Josh had become even more affectionate and sexual, essentially, since the proposal–something I didn’t even realize was a possibility. Normally, we kept sex in the bed or on the couch but lately we’d been fooling around everywhere–the shower, the kitchen, the hallway and even the balcony, which had actually been my favorite, though I kept that to myself. I got the sense Josh liked the exhibitionism a little too much as well and I didn’t want an eviction before we were even ready to move; it was bad enough that Sam and Danny had caught us at that Halloween party ages ago. I’d never forget it and I doubt they ever would either.

“Oh, come on, darling.” Josh pivoted and took me with him, pulling me against his chest while he sat back, one foot on the floor and his other leg extended against my thighs. His arms wound around my waist, hands wandering up to my chest. I sighed and closed my eyes, so easily swayed and seduced by the slightest of his touches. “I absolutely love how focused you are on all of this. It makes me feel so loved.”

I smiled and brought my head back to try and look at him. “I want us to have a nice wedding.”

“We will. It’ll be magnificent.” Josh cupped my breasts, squeezed, and began to kiss my neck. “I can imagine how beautiful you’ll look in a wedding dress.” One hand slid down to my thighs. “I wouldn’t mind if you wore dresses more often.”

I brought one of my own legs to the floor; the gentle touch of Josh’s fingers between my spread thighs was enough to make me gasp. “Easier access?”

Josh chuckled. “That too.” His fingers made their way past the waistband of my shorts, spreading teasingly over my underwear while my left hand gripped his thigh. He brought his lips to my ear and nibbled, making me laugh, and increased the pressure of his touch between my legs. “I love seeing the ring on your hand.” 

I could feel his hard-on pressing into my lower back. This newfound sort of possessiveness was a surprising turn-on–Josh was never really like that, had never been even slightly insecure enough to warrant that, but I liked it, probably because he was still so quiet about it. He looked at my hand, and the ring, often and made a point to hold my right hand more frequently than my left, as if wanting everyone else around to see the ring, too. He’d also started to take immense pleasure in referring to one another as “fiances,” which I did too, but the obvious pride whenever he said the word wasn’t something anyone could ignore. I was into that as well. I’d always enjoyed parading Josh around and knowing everyone else would recognize we were together–now it was solidified. I couldn’t wait until he had a ring, too. We were bound together forever even without the rings but still–it was a beautiful addition. 

Reaching behind myself, I felt for his curls and the warm skin of the back of his neck. “You’re gonna get a matching one?”

Josh kissed my cheek. “Naturally.” 

Rings, a ceremony, our names together on a binding piece of paper–the future. I thought of the house that I’d declined to pursue and where that would leave us, literally. We’d talked about it. Talked about how Savannah had been a wonderful trip and was a wonderful city we’d like to experience again but moving there wasn’t what either of us wanted. I was sure Josh’s conversation with Jake contributed to that–undoubtedly, he’d needed to share the feelings surrounding the changes, the distance, the fears that he wanted to keep to himself. I was sure Jake had told him how silly it was that Josh had even considered moving further away. But all of that had been it, really. No further discussion about where and when down the line we’d be and I was still curious; I was also still sure that Josh wouldn’t be able to live his life in the same place forever. I couldn’t either, but one step at a time. I had to remind myself of that. Nothing was a race. Everything was a marathon. 

“You’ve thought about looking for jobs at Wayne State?” I questioned as Josh’s fingers moved beneath my underwear and I had to catch my breath, trying to retain enough focus to not lose the momentum of my curiosities. “Or that other one–the College of Creative Studies or whatever?”

“Mhmm.” Josh brought his lips to my neck again. “And you so wish to discuss this now?”

“Maybe just a little. I’m curious.”

“I’m curious about a lot of things too,” Josh said, bringing his other hand up underneath my shirt, palm and fingers splayed over my sternum. “But what do you think about continuing this conversation after we fuck?” 

“Either of those schools would pay more than what you’re making now,” I continued, deciding to purposefully keep the conversation going long enough to rile him up further. I fished behind my back for his groin; he moved back just enough to let me spread my hand over his erection still sheathed in his own shorts. “And there’d be more to do there.” Really, the greatest pull behind moving to Detroit was simply being in the same city as Jake, Sam and Danny. Even if they weren’t there all the time, they’d still be there enough, and although that city’s population may have been on the decline for decades, it had recently gained three spectacular rising stars. 

Josh removed his hand from beneath my shirt and brought it up to cover my mouth. “I never thought I’d ever ask you this, but will you hush, please, my love?” he asked, to which I giggled behind his palm. He lowered his hand to caress my chest once more while his hand below permeated his own body heat into my own, fingers gently gliding over me, the tip of his middle finger intentionally adding more pressure against my clit. 

Suddenly that touch was gone and Josh was circling my upper body and bringing me down onto the floor with him, which just made me laugh more. I turned around, moving onto my knees on the carpet instead of the sand like the night he’d proposed, but he just climbed over me. He pushed the coffee table away with one hand and my eyes zeroed in on the flexing of his muscles, the strength overlaid by supple tan skin, then back up to the slight flush on his neck. I wanted to touch him all over.

Josh knew as much. He pulled his shirt off and I thrust my hands out to meet his body; I squeezed his sides, pet down to his hip bones and back up to his chest, catching a small smile on his lips during the languid caressing. I’d never wanted someone so badly and the deep, aching want never disappeared no matter how many days we spent together–thankfully, the ache could always be satiated since he was real and he was there, always beside me, always eager to be together any which way. Still, sometimes I was in disbelief that Josh chose me. Chose me back when I gave him such a hard time, when the forces–how could I ever forget Steve?--that pushed us together felt unfair. And then he’d whisked me away with his creativity, intellect, kindness and beauty. I was spellbound for all eternity.

Lost in thought for a moment while I rubbed my hands up his arms, lingering at his biceps, I remembered how much Josh loved to actually hear these things. “I’m so lucky to have you, Josh.” I looked up from that tantalizing throat to his plush lips and they curved into another, bigger smile; I spared one hand to trace his lips with my finger. “The prettiest boy with the prettiest smile.” 

He cupped my jaw, fingers spreading over my cheekbones while his thumb stroked my chin. “And I’m even luckier to have you, the prettiest girl in the whole world,” he said and I blushed as I always did when he complimented me, but much of that internal fire was fueled by how intently he was looking at me. 

He lowered himself to bring his lips to mine; as we kissed, swapping the softest sweetness while I felt him lift his hips off me enough to pull his shorts down. I clasped my hand on the back of his head as he stripped me of my shorts next, and we sighed against each other’s mouths as he pushed my leg back and slid inside. With my shirt pushed up and my entire lower body bare, I could feel the slight roughness of the carpet against my skin but more than that I could feel the luxurious silkiness of Josh’s skin on mine and the whispers of his hair against my cheek and neck. I let myself feel all of it, eyes closed, as he pushed into me; I hooked my fingers in his hair and brought his mouth back to mine, never able to get enough of those kisses, and squeezed around him until he was moaning and pawing at my chest through my shirt. 

He must have been slightly more riled up than I’d thought; just a couple minutes and Josh dug his fingertips into my thigh as his teeth dug into my neck, thrusting hard as he huffed right below my ear. Then I felt the slight stutter of his hips between my legs while he gasped for air and started to apologize breathlessly, lifting himself up with his hands on the carpet, cheeks all red as he looked down at me. 

“Don’t be sorry,” I said, touching his heated waist, but before I could assure him any further, Josh suddenly surged forward again and brought his fingers down to me, sliding through the slight slick that lingered to rub my clit. Then it was me who was gasping and pulling him down to kiss and nip, my arms clasping his upper body to keep the two of us locked together as long as he could manage; when I came, eyes squeezed shut against the fury of black and white light, his name a soft sigh from my lips, Josh hissed and pulled out. 

“Too sensitive now, darling,” he said with a little laugh, eyes blinking starry affection at me. He flopped down next to me, his backside pressed against the couch, and laid his limbs over my body. One eyebrow rose slightly and he leaned over, pulling my leg over his and inspecting. “I hope you didn’t get any rugburn.” 

I looked down at his hand on my leg. “I don’t think so,” I said truthfully, not aware of any damage from the carpet, though being down there like that reminded me that I needed to vacuum. I tried to get a look at his knees next to inspect for damage on his perfect skin. “What about you? You were going pretty hard.”

Josh kissed my cheek and slid his hand back between my legs, two fingers slowly pushed inside the wetness and heat. “Too hard?”

I laughed, uncontrolled and loud, and tore his hand away from me. “I’m too sensitive now,” I said, then my body relaxed again, eyes fixed on the image of him bringing those fingers to his mouth and sucking. “God. You’re crazy.”

He winked. “You love it.”

“I do love it,” I affirmed, giving him a kiss before I managed to pull myself up from the floor, taking my discarded shorts and underwear with me, then I gave him a wink. “You drive me crazy, baby. Now what do you want for dinner?” 

For dinner, we cooked together–a vegetarian dish Sam had shared that turned out to be more enjoyable than I’d anticipated–and as we shared utensils, tools, techniques and flavors, the weight of the wedding dripped away from me. While Josh was usually even more restless and proactive than I was in some ways, he was so much more adept at trusting the intrinsic timing of things and knowing that, no matter what, everything would work out exactly as it needed to. I was glad he was channeling more of my own meticulous nature when it came to the wedding though–it wasn’t going to plan itself as much as both of us wanted it to. And as we enjoyed the dinner we’d made together, we talked about other bits and pieces of that–what the menu might be, the cake, the bar. 

“We’re not even thinking about arguably the most fun and important aspect yet,” Josh said when our plates were clean and we were hunched over my laptop together. I was finalizing the details to secure our venue. “The honeymoon.”

Truly, I hadn't thought about that, which made me pause for a moment, surprised at my own lack of foresight. “Oh. Yeah, right,” I said, then felt instantly deflated. “Would we even have the funds for that?” 

“We could ask for donations as our wedding gifts?” Josh suggested and again I was surprised by his own very detailed way of thinking through this. “And I would absolutely spare some of my savings for that. We should go anywhere you want to go.”

I sat back. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Some place magical, with lots of sun and blue skies. We’ll be missing it by the time we’re in the dead of winter, I’m sure.” 

“So a beach. I can get behind that,” I said, opening a new tab for Google. “But which beach? Somewhere international?” 

“International would be splendid,” Josh said, perching his chin on my shoulder to watch me search for “affordable beach honeymoons.” “If your heart is up for another plane ride.”

“As long as you’re with me,” I told him and felt him smile.

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