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flawdchaos · 8 months ago

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Pinky Promises

Robert Rosenthal x Reader

Word Count - 1840

- this is a part 2/continuation of Spilled Drinks that was requested by anon.

Ever since the night Y/N had literally ran into Rosie at the bar she couldn’t seem to rid herself of a small smile, no matter what she did. When the girls made it back to their barracks that night, the ambushing of questions went on for well over an hour and even into the next morning.

“You have to talk to him again, Y/N. We both saw the way he looked at you when you were dancing.” Violet declared as she pinned her hair back under the white cap the Red Cross was gracious enough to bless them with. “You know Violet is right, Y/N. He’s already dreaming of a house back in the states and curly headed babies running around.”

“Hazel!” Y/N stopped midway through her dress buttons to lightly smack her friend on the arm, cheeks burning bright red. “I just met the man and for all we know, he doesn’t care and will never speak to me again.” Reaching down to grab her work satchel packed full of supplies.

“Well Y/N if that was the case I don’t believe Mr. Rosenthal would be waiting outside for you, would he?” Violet taunted, Y/N’s head snapping up to meet her friend's gaze. Violet stood peering out the window, fingers holding the blinds open enough to see outside. Hurriedly, Y/N rushed over the window trying her best to not trip over her own feet.

Sure enough there stood Robert Rosenthal - hands shoved in his pockets gaze searching the area around him.

“Go get him, tiger!” Hazel bent forward, laughing.

There truly was not much left in this world that could phase Y/N. She had seen it all in the cruel reality that was war. Men she had grown close to over the span of their visits to the nurses stations would come back battered and broken, some beyond repair - and despite all of what she saw, she was always able to ground herself. She had to. But now, she felt like a young school girl again. Her body was littered with anxiety - sweaty palms, shaking hands, and a racing heart. Why?

All because Robert Rosenthal was standing outside of the nursing barracks.

The squeaking of the barrack front door brought her back down to reality for a moment before the brightness of the sun had her quickly shielding her eyes.

“Rosie, is that you?” she more than obviously knew the answer but she still could not convince herself that it really was him.

“Uh, yeah”, he let out an awkward chuckle “I wanted to stop by this morning and see how things were going. Maybe walk you to the nurses station since I’m heading in that direction.” he was rambling. She stood, head cocked up to him, eyes squinting still from the sun. “I mean, unless, that makes you uh - uncomfortable.”

“I’d love the company. The commute can get a bit lonely.” that same small smile making its way back onto her face. Rosie extended his hand for Y/N to lead the way and with one quick glance back inside she saw her friends staring out at her, smiles plastered on each of their faces.

“What is on your itinerary, today?” Robert finally spoke up.

“The usual. Work until roughly 1900, probably later since there is a mission today and hope to make it back to the barracks in time to do some reading before I get up and do it all again tomorrow.” Y/N paused, kicking a few pebbles along the path before she continued. “How is the day looking for you?”

“Nothing too crazy but I am going up today.” he said nonchalantly, stopping Y/N in her place.

“You’re flying today?” she almost felt like throwing up. Maybe it was selfishness or chosen ignorance but Y/N had grown to hope the war wouldn’t need Robert anymore. She hoped she could protect him from it but all she could do was treat the wounds he would inevitably bring back to her.

“Yeah, debriefing starts at 0730. I’m heading over there once we get you where you need to be.” Her anxiety ridden mind could not help but imagine this was Rosie’s goodbye to her.

Y/N stepped forward to Rosie, grabbing his hands in hers as she looked up to maintain eye contact.

“I know I am just a nurse and you can’t tell me what you're doing up there or where you’re going but you have to pinky promise me you’ll be safe.” Dropping his left hand, she stuck her pinky out expectantly.

“Cross my heart.” he said, as their pinkies connected tightly.

As they continued along their walk, conversation came easily. The pair were still strangers by most accounts and each of them hated it. Y/N wanted to know everything there was to know about Robert Rosenthal and she had made it her plan to figure it out. Stopping outside the nurses station, Rosie removed his hat and began anxiously squeezing it in his hands.

“Be safe up there, fly boy.” Y/N teased, attempting to keep the mood as lightened as she could.

“As long as you do the same down here.” Y/N nodded.

“This mission will be my 20th. I’ve got a two day pass calling my name once my feet hit the ground. Let me treat you to a real introduction and dinner.” Rosie spoke quickly, nerves taking over the brunette.

“I would love that, Mr. Rosenthal.” rising on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss against his cheek. “You know where I'll be when you get back.” With that, Y/N took a step back and hurried inside to her awaiting duties.

There wasn’t any other time that Y/N had remembered the clock dragging by so slowly. The seconds ticking by was beginning to drive her up the wall and she had to busy herself with random duties. It was while she was restocking the gauze that she heard the all too familiar rumble of the engines overhead. She couldn’t make it to the window to count the returning planes but she hoped, with all her being, every single one of them returned. Hazel’s blonde curls popped around the closet corner, an all too familiar sign that the once quiet med bay was about to pure, unadulterated chaos.

“We’ve got boys already headed our way.” Hazel spoke softly, as if she tried to lessen the blow.

“How bad?” Y/N asked but was only met with a small head shake from the blonde - it was never a good sign.

When Y/N finally saw Robert Rosenthal, he appeared in the med bay doors adorning some cuts and scrapes across his face.

“I told you I would make it back, pretty lady. My leave starts at 0700 sharp. Let’s go to London.”

It was pure luck that her days off coincided with Rosie’s rendezvous and that Helen and Violet were great at covering for their friend. The train ride was where Y/N finally got to the bottom of who Robert Rosenthal truly was. Shortly after taking their seats, Y/N couldn’t help but start to prod.

“Alright, tell me everything Mr. Rosenthal. Give me all the dirty details.”, her cheeks flushed bright red ,”uh- not like that i mean tell me - uh - tell me something no one else knows about you or something.” She could have thrown herself off of the moving train at that point but Rosie just flashed her a smile and started speaking.

“Robert Rosenthal, from Brooklyn, New York. I was working in law before all this mess. I loved it. Graduated top of my class actually. But after Pearl Harbor, I couldn’t keep sitting on my ass while my country needed me so - I enlisted.”

“No secret wife or kids back at home?” Y/N poked.

“No ma’am. It’s just me. And - uh - as far as something no one on this side of the world knows about me - I was the captain for my college’s baseball team. I was trying to be the next DiMaggio.” a small chuckle escaping him as he finished his sentence. “Now what about you?” he asked, softly bumping his shoulder up against the girls.

“Nothing too crazy for me. I always loved helping folks, I was told my whole life I was meant to be a nurse. Once we started fighting this fight I knew I had to volunteer - sorta like you I guess. I’m not dropping bombs or toting a gun but knowing I patch you all up before you get back in the saddle is enough for me.” she sighed, turning up to glance at Rosie.

“And no secret husband out at war or kids back at home?” Rosie mimicked her early question. Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “God no, Robert. Where I’m from I don’t turn heads.” He took a moment to look at her, maintaining eye contact before he took his large hand and grasped over hers before pulling them on to his lap.

“Well Y/N Y/L/N you turned mine - and maybe after we get all this nonsense settled with the bad guys, I can give you a tour of Brooklyn. I know just the place that I’d love to take you dancing.”

“I’m most certainly holding you to it but for now, let’s explore London.” raising her free hand to the platform approaching quickly.

“Yes ma’am. How would you feel about a picnic?”

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

Rosie stood up as soon as the train hissed to a stop, busying himself with gathering the overnight bags each of them had packed. He stubbornly insisted on carrying both to the hotel around the corner. Y/N knew they would have to enter as colleagues and nothing more, separating as they went to their respective rooms to drop off their bags before meeting again in the hallway.

“Let’s go find sandwiches.” he spoke quietly and Y/N nodded, falling in line behind him as they walked past the lobby and out to the streets. For the first time Y/N really took in the size of the city around her and she couldn’t even help that her jaw was almost to the floor. The Germans had done their share of damage but it didn’t lessen the experience for her at all.

“What is it, Y/N?” Rosie questioned, taking a step towards her.

“I’ve never seen a city like this before. This is just - wow.” Rosie broke out into an ear-to-ear grin. “It is awesome but wait until I take you to Brooklyn. We’ll catch the train to New York City and I’ll make sure you take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“You promise?” Y/N broke from her trance to look up as Rosie smiled and turned to her fully, sticking out her left hand.

“I pinky promise.” he said, watching as Y/N connected their hands tightly. “You better believe it. I haven’t broken a promise yet.”

AUTHORS NOTE - hi friends, i hope everyone enjoyed this little part two to spilled drinks. there may be a part 3 to this little series if it’s wanted. please feel free to give me feedback or more requests as my inbox as open. i’m still new to this so i appreciate anything :)

#masters of the air #masters of the air imagines #masters of the air x reader #john egan #gale cleven #rosie rosenthal imagines #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #robert rosenthal imagine #bucky egan x reader #buck cleven x reader #john egan imagine #gale cleven imagine

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shelbyssins · 2 years ago

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HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇

Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst

Word Count: 6,880

A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x

June 1912

“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm.

Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world.

He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue.

Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections.

It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective.

Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.

“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,”

Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane.

“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.

Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,”

For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.

“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.

Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.

“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing.

Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,”

Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.

March 1913

The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.

As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.

“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.

“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.

He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.

Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass.

“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.

Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”

She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.

“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.

“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.

“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes.

“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,”

Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,”

“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.

“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,”

“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.

“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing.

Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky.

Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.

Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.

“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”

Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.

November 1913

Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets.

Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.

Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.

She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.

“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.

“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.

“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.

She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.

“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him.

Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word.

Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”

Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.

“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.

“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.

But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head.

“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.

“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.

“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.

“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.

“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.

Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.

“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet.

As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little.

Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?

Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”

Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.

“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.

Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.

“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”

Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”

Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.

The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.

“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.

“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.

Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.

February 1917

The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening.

She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.

Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.

Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.

Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.

Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.

July 1919

Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.

Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.

Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.

Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.

She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.

"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.

Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.

He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.

"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.

"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.

"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.

"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.

"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.

"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.

Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"

Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"

Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.

"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.

"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"

"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"

"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.

"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"

Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"

Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.

"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"

Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"

"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.

"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.

"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"

Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"

Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"

Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.

"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.

Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."

"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"

Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.

"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"

"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.

Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #polly gray #arthur shelby #tommy shelby x reader fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader imagine #tommy shelby x reader oneshot

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didishawn · 2 years ago

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PLS DO A SMUT WERE PEDRI AND Y/ N HAVE CHILDREN AND THEY HAVE TO BE RLLY QUIET AND THEIR CHILDREN WALK IN LMAOO

Unlocked door (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: lots of Spanish, smut, getting caught, awkward talk

Masterlist

Having kids is hard, that is something you have had in mind since the first test informed you and Pedri about the pregnancy that would later become your first kid, your precious Leo.

Having a kid is hard, is what you always thought whenever it was your turn to get up to calm the baby when he couldn't sleep through the night -god bless Pedri, who took charge of the situation even on times it wasn't his turn.

Having a kid is hard, having two kids is harder, that's what Rosy told you when you told her about what later would become your dear Sofia -it's all worth it though, she also told you, and of course she is right.

The kids are now older, Leo is 5, Sofia 4, finally having started sleeping on their own beds for the night.

Pedri's career is doing great, but being a great football player also means being requested to fly out a lot too, but you both manage, still as in love with each other as the very first day.

The problem, well, not really a problem but your horny partner would state otherwise, is that kids + busy careers makes all harder for sexy times or how you call it in front of the kids "mommy and daddy private time that means always knocking", and having to go from such an active sex life you and Pedri used to have to having to be content with the quickies and few kids-free nights is hard. You are honestly embarrassed to think about all those post-match times you hace taken the chance of your kids playing around with others under the watchful eyes of one of Pedri's teammates to sneak around to have a quick fuck in the dressing room or some available closet.

Pedri has been quite touchy the whole day -you can't blame him, it's been a long time since your last alone time. Arms around your waist as you cooked breakfast and kisses on your neck, a hand on your knee as you all ate together, his head on you shoulder arm around you during movie time with the kids, showing off his abs when in the pool with the kids. During lunch he doesn't even pretend not to be gawking at your bikini-covered breasts, and as you both clean up the table, he gets close to your ear, almost seductive as he does so, leaning down he goes and whispers:

"Vamos a cansarlos para tener un poco de tiempo a solas" (let's tire them up so we can have some alone time)

Needless to say is that your lover makes sure the two little demons are exhausted by the end of the day, running around the house, swimming on the pool, some football, jumping around and finishing the day with a meal that has their stomaches full as they fight against their eyes closing.

"Ve a la habitación, yo me encargo de ellos" (go to the bedroom, I take care of them)

You are quick on your feet as you enter the room, even if you know you have a while to prepare, you take a quick shower with a soap whose scent you know makes the midfielder go crazy. You don't bother with any makeup apart from some strawberry flavored lip balm that your lover goes absolutely feral for -years of experience have given you the knowledge that at the end you will always end up crying off any eye make up.

You wear the tiniest piece of lingerie you can find in your closet, don't bother with anything else as you know he will rip it away, just sit on the bed, waiting for him, looking pretty as he likes it.

The door almost slams open, a naughty expression on his face as he looks you up and down.

"Dios mío, no sabes lo mucho que extrañaba esto" (God, you have no idea how much I missed this)

He doesn't waste any time as he rips his shirt off, the sight of his chest have you sighing, a dumb smile taking over your face as you are face to face with his lower half, hands reaching up to him, one on his chest the other on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his lips instantly on yours, his tongue down your throat.

You hand on his chest plays with the patch of hair there then goes lower, you feel his abs tense when your fingers graze over his v lines then to the happy trail.

You separate from him, looking into his lust filled eyes, your hands on his shorts and pulling them down, his cock almost hitting you as it bounces out from it's confinement, standing thick as always his balls full and precum bouncing from his tip.

"¿Ahora ves lo mucho que echaba esto de menos?" (you see now how much I missed this?)

You nod, hand reaching out to grab him, but he stops you, shaking his head.

"No puedo esperar más, necesito estar dentro tuyo" (I can't wait anymore, I need to be inside you)

A cheeky smile takes over your face, turning you both around so he is laying on the bed, your hips moving over his, his head falling back as he moans out, hands on your waist try to stop you but you deny him.

His tip does a delicious friction on your clit, he can feel how wet you are even with you panties denying him any entry.

He is frustrated, you both are really, your hips lift up your hand goes down to tease yourself, panties pushed aside, you line him up with your entrance and don't wait a moment to fall down on him, his cock instantly kissing your cervix and stretching you out to you limit.

You feel so full of him, your eyes glossed over, he knows how to work you, a strong grip on your waist as he moves you up and down.

The two of you are far too gone to keep the noises in, it's been far too long since the last time you found yourselves in this situation, you are far too sensitive, almost trembling you are whining, moaning, he fucks up into you and you can't help but groan at the slam of his balls against you, so full, neither will last long.

He sits up, you on his lap as he grinds up into you, his pace strong, fucking you roughly, not wanting to wait any longer for the extasis that you can both feel burning in your tummies, his face buried on your breasts as he places kisses on them over the thin fabric, a hand reaching to your back to let him see all of you.

He doesn't have the opportunity for it though, as over the loud noise of skin against skin, your ears catch the sound of your door creaking open, and with an agility that even impresses yourself, you are off his cock and pushing him down to cover yourselves.

"¿Mami, que están haciendo?" your four-year-old asks, curiosity on her eyes as her older brother stands behind her, a frown on his face. (mommy, what are you doing?)

"¿Papi te estaba haciendo daño?" that words have you both snapping up, tuning to share a look as you try to think about an answer. You always thought this type of situation was just one bad comedy shows added for drama, apparently it also can be true. (was daddy hurting you?)

"Obvio que no, amor. ¿Por qué dices eso?" (of course not, love. Why do you say that?)

"Escuche como golpes y a ti gritando" (I heard slapping sounds and you shouting)

Your face is red and you have to hit your partner's side as he snickers. You give him a look, and he knows it's up to him to fix everything.

"Mamá y yo solo estamos jugando, no hay nada que preocuparse, de verdad" (mom and I were only playing, nothing to worry about, really)

"¿Qué juego era ese?" you love your daughter, really, but sometimes her curiosity brings you real trouble. (what game was that?)

You look at each other, you clear out your throat "Un juego que las mamás y los papas juegan cuando se quieren mucho" (a game moms and dads play when they love each other a lot)

"¿Puedo yo jugarlo?" Pedri's eyes snap wide open. (can I play it?)

"¿Y tú con quien quieres jugarlo?" (and who do you want to play it with?)

"Pepi!"

"Quiero decir, no amor, solo nosotros los adultos podemos jugarlo" (I mean, no love, only us adults can play it)

"¿Qué edad tenemos que tener para jugar?" your son asks, he too quite curious apparently, your face is about to explode, giving them both a look. (what age do we have to be to play?)

"Muy mayores" you say "Ahora a vuestros cuartos que ahora voy, es muy tarde para que un par de granujas como vosotros estéis despiertos" (very old. Now go to your rooms I will be right behind, it's way too late for you two troublemakers to be awake)

Your kids, God bless them, listen to you and leave you and your lover alone, you turn to him with a pointed look.

"Tú y tu pequeño problema quédense aquí, ahora vuelvo" (you and your little problem stay here, I will be right back)

He groans as you sneakily pass your thumb over his tip, teasing him and walking off with a cheeky look, he drops down, desperate for you to come back as he glances to his member, still as hard, tall and thick as before

He knows that it's all fine for the night, but he really hopes your kids forget it all by the morning, or he won't be able to look them straight to the eye.

Next time he will make sure to lock the door, and he hopes you don't realise his small mistake when you come back, because his balls really need the release and you shouting at him won't give him that.

#barca #fc barca #barcelona #pedri #spanish nt #spain national team #pedri headcanon #spain nt #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #football imagine #football player #pedri smut #pedri x y/n

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boymanmaletheshequel · 22 days ago

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Symbolism of Eos

🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️

Eos is the rosy fingered goddess of the dawn, the sister to Helios and Selene, and the daughter of Hyperion and Theia. She was known for her insatiable lust for men inflicted upon her by Aphrodite. She is a fairly unworshiped goddess for how large she is in Greek mythology, and is long overdue for a cult renaissance! Maybe we can reignite that cult by beginning with some of her divine symbolism and magickal correspondences!

🌈 colors:

- Saffron. According to Greek mythology, it is said in Theogony that lady Eos wears a saffron orange cloak reminiscent of the morning dawn’s sunrise, so saffron/orange and red are the colors typically most associated with her.

🍎 foods/herbs and spices

- Saffron. Again, although no foods or spices are explicitly stated to be divine of or sacred to Eos, it can be inferred by text that saffron is a spice that can be reasonably associated with her.

- Coffee. Although not mentioned directly, coffee is the drink perhaps most universally associated with the morning, the domain of Eos, so it can be assumed that coffee would be quite sacred to her.

- Cereal. Another breakfast item that is widely associated with the dawn and morning, cereal isn’t just a modern invention, grain cereals have existed for thousands of years, and although I’m not too certain on wether or not it’s always been a breakfast staple, the fact that it is so synonymous with it now leaves me reasonably sure it must be sacred to her!

🦌 animals:

- Grasshoppers. In the story of Eos and Tithonus, the goddess petitions Zeus for her most recent lovers immortality, however, she neglected also to request eternal youth. In time he shrivelled up by old age and transformed into a grasshopper. Classic dick move from big Z. Anyways, grasshoppers are sacred to her as a result of this incident.

🌸 flowers:

- Rose. Known for her rosy pink fingers and complexion, warmly toasted by the morning sunrise, roses are the obvious choice for lady Eos if your going for a traditional association! If you want to try something a bit more modern though..

- Morning Glory. A flower that closes up at night and opens up to the sunrise, this flower has Eos’s signature in its very name, and is a perfect flower to plant or collect in her honor!

💎 crystals:

- Sunstone. Named after the star she is iconic of, sunstone is an easy choice as a crystal or gemstone to equate to the goddess, it’s glorious orange hues are very reminiscent of her glory.

- Crocoite. A fairly obscure one, Crocoite is literally derived from the Latin name for saffron, due to its extremely fragile nature and beautiful hot orange color. A great special addition to an altar or shrine to her!

🪐 planets:

- The sun. Obviously, being the goddess of the sunrise, the sun is the planet that reigns as her sacred domain, a trait she shares with other sun related deities like Helios and Apollo.

☄️ astrology:

- Sagittarius. A fiery, passionate goddess with a history of Ill fated love and nearly debilitating lust, mother Eos is almost certainly a sag.

☀️ other iconography:

- Pitcher. In many Ancient Greek depictions of the goddess, she can be seen carrying a pitcher or watering can, a symbol of a new day and its fertility and awakening new growth it brings.

- Tiara. She is also known to wear a beautiful tiara that is always sitting upon her head, much like the shape of the sun rising in the morning over a hill!

🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️🌅☀️

Do you know of Eos? And if so, what do you find epitomizes her glory and beauty for you? Let me know! If you like this post and wish to learn more about the gods of Hellen, consider following my blog! Happy day and blessings 🏛️💙

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hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog · 10 months ago

Note

-Based on that Rosie post-

————————————————

Husk: *Mixing a drink for Rosie* Thanks for the chat Rosie, helps a man out.

Rosie: Why Husk, you know how much I love a good chat.

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Niffty: Rosie! What you think of my roach crown? *hold up roach crown*

Rosie: Will isn’t that the cutest crown you made yet!

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Charlie: So Rosie, you think this will work? *Presenting project board with activity plans*

Rosie: Lets take a closer look and see, after all, can’t hurt to double check!

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Cheri Bomb: For the first time in awhile, I don’t know what to think…. *Thinking about Sir Pentious*

Rosie: Will Honey, sometimes when it comes to love, the feeling you have can get conflicting….

————————————————

Lucifer: ……. I miss my ex-wife, I miss her a lot. What do I do?

Rosie: Majesty, if you may, tell me what you’re feeling and perhaps I’ll have some advice to give.

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Angle Dust: *Walks into the room* Uhh, hey Rosie, Valenti-

Rosie: *Takes out shot gun* Say no more Angle, let Auntie Rosie deal with this.

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Vaggie: I….I think I have religious trauma and I just now realized it.

Rosie: *Take out notepad & feather pen, and sits on old timey therapist chair* Continue.

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Alastor: Rosie I can’t thank you enough for your help today! *Cutting up body parts for some stew*

Rosie: Alastor you know me, I love helping you cook in the kitchen.

We all need an aunt Rosie in our lives she is such a blessing

#ask #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie

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mahiiimahiiii · 9 months ago

Text

have a little preview as a treat...

wow i am cranking out shit this week, turns out stress is a good motivator to write.

this comes from the office hours wip i posted a few weeks ago, feedback would be greatly appreciated as i never know if gale is written decently lol.

tdlr: rizzard recives, to be loved is to be changed, mentions of having kids, i think gale has a title or authority kink, my vision is blessed with gale with thick thighs and garter bands.

hopefully the full will be posted this weekend!!

nsfw below the cut! minors dni!!!!

You glanced up catching his eyes, he nodded. You unlaced his boxers which crackled at your touch, tugging them off his legs and tossing them somewhere. You exhaled, tail thumping against the cushions in slight excitement. Gale pursed his lips and averted his eyes, pink warming his already rosy cheeks. You kissed down the happy trail that lined his soft stomach, inhaling the scent of him contained by his skin. Rose water, oak, pine and musk, he smelt wonderfully fresh.

He was slightly self-conscious of this newer version of him, a body softened by age like a ripe peach. You thought it fitting- the softness of course- he aged well. You cupped his sides, squeezing them gently. “Have I ever told you how gorgeous you are?” you ask softly.

“Many times-why do you ask?” he quirked a brow.

You shrug, lifting his thighs around your hips, giving them a firm squeeze again. “Thought I’d remind you.” You mold to his body, thighs rubbing together adding pressure to his already neglected member. Your lips mark their place down his neck, staining his skin a soft pink from your lip balm. You made your way down again, making sure your lips marked every surface of his skin. His hips strained for movement but found none to meet it.

You marred his inner thigh with bite patterns, his skin breaking into patterns of pink and red. Your tongue ran its way up his perineum sending flames to his stomach, a squeeze to his heavy sack had him tensing beneath you.

Your nose buried in his happy trail once more- you let out a contented sigh.

His hips bucked slightly his cock tapping your chin. “my dear- be kind please- “

You grinned “gale, I don’t intend to be kind- perhaps I’m trying to enable your behavior for later.”

He let out a strained moan, his lids scrunching shut. “God id like that so much- please- “

“Like what now gale?” you teased pinching the head of his pink cock, rolling the skin up and down.

His hips strained again, a low hiss through his teeth. “Gods, you know- I don’t want to spell it out, hells.”

You stopped your slow steady strokes to kitten lick the head of his member, his fists began to clench and unclench. “I’d like to hear what you’d like, professor Dekarios. Lecture me- if you will.”

He swore under his breath one open, “you-!” his chest heaved, trying to buck his hips up from under your heavy hand. “Fuck- fine- I want to be in you- I want you to bloat with my seed. Gods-! Want everyone to know your mine- so help me- going to fuck you over my desk-.” His breathing was labored, his thighs clenching under you. His eyes went wide as he covered his mouth, poor gale was surprised by even his own vulgarity.

“you’d like to try for another child Mr. Dekarios?” you squeezed his balls sucking gently on his inner thigh.

“By the weave-! Yes-!” he sounded exasperated, his lip quivering.

“Very well, you’ve been good. I suppose you’ve earned your treat” you lowered your mouth onto him, a groan rolling through his throat. You dragged your tongue against his skin, the salt refreshing to your taste. You found the small spot on his head and rolled your tongue against it. His hands shoved down your head, burying your head into the patch of curls framing his cock. He shuffled his hands moving to your horns squeezing and fondling the base ridges. Your moan reverberated around him, he lifted his hips, the garters that held his socks squeezing the meat of his thighs.

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smallandsneezy · 2 months ago

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Too Much of a Good Thing

the estate gardener who is wildly allergic to flowers fucking the governess. this is a sicktember post, but I'm dreadfully late. so happy day two on day 14!

Evangeline had always taken great pleasure in the way her heeled boots sounded as they clicked down the hallway. The combination of the tapping shoes and the way that her long woolen skirt swished against her legs made her feel powerful and prepared, had her stand a little straighter. It was with that straight bearing that she came around the corner and nearly ran straight into Joseph, the manor’s gardener.

“Oh!” she startled, teetering precariously back on the boots she had just been so pleased with.

He reached out for her, his big callused hands grasping her shoulders and steadying her.

She rebalanced and he released her, stepping back sheepishly. Getting a better look at him, she realized he was covered in dirt, from the patches on his knees to the beds of his finger nails.

“Done with lessons for the day, miss?” he asked brightly. The two talked relatively regularly, often passing each other in the garden when Evangeline went out for her daily constitutional.

“What have you been working on that’s got you so filthy?” she teased, beaming at him to show she was kidding.

He brightened at the chance to talk about his flowers. “Oh, the most lovely chrysanthemums miss! This variety really shines this time of year.”

“I hadn’t known anything bloomed in October,” she mused.

“The late fall bloomers do, miss. I could…show you sometime.” Joseph offered shyly. He looked almost shocked at his own gall and seemed to be already bracing for her indignant response.

Evangeline smiled almost ear to ear. Why not? It was 1910 now, after all, and she was trying to devote herself to living more adventurously.

“I think now would suffice if you’re amenable.”

A similar grin to hers spread across the man’s face, making him all the more handsome.

“Let us go then.”

She should have seen it coming. His nose had been growing steadily redder with every moment that they spent in the garden. He hadn’t commented on it though, even as it twitched steadily more with every flower he showed her.

“And these, of course, are the chrysanthe-” he broke off quite suddenly, his eyes glazing over.

“Are you quite alright, sir?”

The man’s mouth was agape, his nose positively rosy by now. “I…I…” He stuttered, look humiliated.

Was he going to…

“HURUSHOO! Huh…huh…AHISHAH!” He practically bellowed them, too distracted by the itch to cover, and Evangeline felt a heat between her legs start up. Her glasses were soaked in his spray, and he looked horrified.

“Goodness! Bless you!”

“I’m…HRUSHOOO! huh…HUH…HRASHAH! I’m so so sorry ma’am.” Joseph said shyly, a flush floating high over his cheeks.

She could only blink and remove her glasses to clean them. She had never understood when people said they were ‘speechless’ before, but now she did.

“Oh…Again…huh! Hahh!!—HATSCHIEWW!!!” That one had doubled him over, and Evangeline felt her breath start to quicken.

“It’s all the flowers…Too much of a good thing, I suppose. They’re always doing me in. HUHRESHOO!!”

Evangeline couldn’t bear it. She leaned in and kissed him, wet nose and all.

He stiffened slightly, clearly surprised, but relaxed almost instantly, kissing her back, sniffling frantically every time they stopped for breath. He pulled her into a flowered alcove, thick with bushes and chamomile. She pressed up against him, breathing hard. He placed his leg in between hers, and she pressed herself into it, it taking every ounce of her gentle upbringing not to whine with pleasure. Abruptly he pulled out of their kiss, nostrils flaring. “HAHRESHOOO!! HAH…HAH…HARASHOOO!” He, having no choice otherwise, had pressed himself into her bosom, which was now drenched in spray. These were wet sneezes, and he seemed to have no handkerchief on him. She offered hers to him now, but when he reached for it desperately she pulled it back. Now he was the one whining, his red itchy eyes begging her for it.

She wrapped the dainty handkerchief, with her around his swollen nose. “Blow.”

“Miss, I can’t. It’ll get all wet, I can’t do that to a lady. I don’t need to, I’m perfectly well.”

She pulled it back from his anguished grasp and plucked a chamomile flower from beside them.

“Miss?” Joseph asked.

“If you don’t need to, surely this won’t be a problem.”

She danced the chamomile across his nostrils, which pulsed with irritation.

“I’m…ahh….AHH…AHH AHHCHOO! HAHSHOOOO!! I’m so allergic miss.”

She raised her eyebrows, brandishing the handkerchief. “And?”

“Please! Please let me have the handkerchief.”

“Okay. Since you asked so nicely.”

She extended her handkerchief and gently covered his nose with it. “Now, blow.”

He did so, with gentle soft blows. He did indeed drench the handkerchief, and she could feel the dampness against her hand. It made her shudder.

“Thank you miss,” he whispered.

She kissed him on the nose.

#snz #snz fic #sicktember 2024

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senseandaccountability · 2 months ago

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Ficlet: Ever on

Solavellan tears and therapy in 500 words, post-Trespasser, pre-Veilguard. Also here on AO3.

And life, as it does, goes ever on.

They work, they travel, they stay with the people that became their home.

They’re not lonely.

Dorian introduces her to a widower in his closest circle of acquaintances - Silus, a fellow rift mage who is a fair bit older than her and carries a sadness that doesn’t quite go away even as the years pass by. It suits her well.

Silus is kind and somber, clever and generous. They don't love each other and it's a blessing. She is free to go at any given moment, he in turn frequently visits a man in Antiva, a girl in Jader. But in Minrathous they share each other's solitude: they cook splendid suppers and assist each other with magical research and when the mood strikes them - less frequently these days, their passion was never strong to begin with and there’s just so much else to do - they share a bed.

They all reside in a large villa that Dorian keeps as some sort of headquarters for the assorted activities they occupy themselves with. Whenever Bull is around, he stays for months - once he stays a whole year and Dorian’s laugh is different then, fuller and warmer.

It’s a busy household, a busy home.

Ellana finds that she enjoys getting lost in it, enjoys living in it - more so than she ever did enjoy life with a clan.

She brings in orphans and makes them apprentices, teaches them old elven magic and new Tevinter one alike; in the autumns they travel out to the forests to practise Dalish spellweaving among the falling leaves and in the winters Ellana tries to teach them how to cook and preserve nature’s bounty. Two of the older kids manage to make hearth cakes without the halla butter and present it to her as a gift made for a god, kneeling in front of her, cheeks rosy and eyes glittering. There's a brief sting deep in her chest then, memories of being a Herald, of being with him. Lady Lavellan, they call her. She lets them. The title Inquisitor fades slowly and she welcomes the shift.

Silus hides escaped slaves and apostates in the spare bedrooms upstairs and Dorian hosts meetings that grow more radical by the month, involving the Shadow Dragons as well as several foreign groups working for the same goals.

“Abolish all slavery, overturn the Magisterium, justice for common people - who would have thought this?” She teases him as he wraps up a large gathering that had lasted three days and required so much wine and protective wards that they will have to do without both for a little while.

“Ah.” Dorian wraps an arm around her shoulder; he smells of brandy and embrium and whatever fragrance it is that Bull keeps using when he dresses up. “You know who inspired me, don’t you?”

And Ellana nods. She knows. Solas, too, she thinks.

“Funny, that.”

—

She still talks to Solas every night; he still visits her dreams.

If someone asked her to separate the threads of reality from the fabric of the Fade itself, she isn’t certain she could.

Or would.

One day she will face him in the physical world again, this she knows. She will look him in the eyes then. Bring her good hand up to cup the back of his head to pull him closer, run her fingers over the long-forgotten freckles on his skin. In her dreams she counts them, but she won't, not then.

“Have I proven you wrong yet, vhenan?” she will ask him, and he will answer that she has and all of this will change, again.

Until then she has a life to live.

And life, as it does, goes ever on.

#my writing #solavellan #my fic #solas x female lavellan

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bucky-boychik-barnes · 1 year ago

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Ages ago, @awrubyblue made some fanart with Bucky finding a pocket size version of Steve. (Sadly I am unable to find them now, or I would link to them.)

My shipper brain immediately ran wild with a new type of Soulmate AU. Where you get a little version of your soulmate to carry around - I called it Pockets AU. And after blabbing on and on and on and on and on to my friend @subluxate about it, they made this AMAZING fic.

I finally remembered to ask permission to post it. I hope you enjoy. (Let me know if you do, they also wrote a fic about Steeb after Steve gets the serum.)

---

Characters: Sarah Rogers, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Steeb, Booky

Timeline: 1910s, very pre CA:TFA

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Genre: Soulmates, Kids, Wholesome, Shortfic, idk genres anymore just tropes

Word Count: 898

Steven is still snoring away when Sarah walks back to the bed they share. He’s rosy-cheeked, not fever-flushed like he tends to be when he makes noise like that, but then it’s getting to be autumn and his allergies do kick up around the middle of September.

“Wake up, love,” she says over the monstrous sounds coming from her wee lad. “Time for breakfast.”

His ready alertness, such a trial when he’s ill, is a blessing the precious times he’s well. He pushes himself up and smiles at her, covering a yawn with his hand. He thinks she doesn’t know he’s lost a tooth a bit before it was ready to come out, which tells her all she needs to know about how he lost it.

The yawn ends on a tiny squeak. Steven stares at her, his eyes huge in his narrow face.

“Got a pet mouse, have you?” Sarah asks for lack of anything else to say.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t do that.” He drops his hand from his mouth, and his thumb brushes against his pocket. A moment later, he’s yanked the pocket open--oh, she’s glad he didn’t pop a stitch, she has enough patching to do already--and is staring down into it. “Mama?”

Steven hasn’t called her ‘Mama’ since he declared himself a big boy on his birthday. “What is it?” she asks, already resigned to a dying kitten he found and forgot to mention.

He dips his other hand into the pocket. His fingers wiggle, and then he’s got hold of whatever it is and is drawing it free of the fabric. It whines and rolls over in Steven’s hand, burying its face against the ball of his thumb.

Sarah’s seen smaller, but not in some years, not since her younger sister woke to a similar little being sleeping under her hair. “That’s not a mouse,” she tells her son.

He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving the Pocket curling up in his hand. “It’s a Pocket,” he breathes. “Mama, I have a Pocket!”

Every house should have at least one, Sarah thinks as she leans down to kiss Steven’s forehead and get a better look at the pajama-clad little Pocket in her wee lad’s hand. “You’ll have to name your Pocket,” she tells him.

“I gotta think about it.” He sounds more congested, but he’s alert and still not fevered, so she stands and doesn’t stop him following her out to breakfast.

“I’m sorry we haven’t a thing for you to wear,” she tells the dark-haired little Pocket before she leaves for work, while Steven yanks on his short pants. “I’ll try to make you something tonight. Steven, mind the hems!”

The Pocket gives her a wide, sweet smile. He’s missing a tooth himself, the lower right front. She knew lads with smiles like that when she was a child herself, always either the most trouble or the most loyal. He babbles at her, a wash of playful happiness in the sounds, and Sarah wishes she could kiss his head.

Not that it would bother Steven or his Pocket, of course, but something always feels wrong to Sarah when she touches someone else’s Pocket. That seemed more common at home, but maybe it’s just living in the tenements and crowds that makes people so indifferent here. Half the time, they never seem to notice their hand has passed through a bit of someone’s love and soul.

“Make sure he names you today,” she continues to the Pocket. “He’s a mite stubborn sometimes, so you make sure he understands if you like a name, all right? Don’t go letting him run all over you.”

“Ma,” Steven groans at her. He finishes buttoning his shirt. “You’re giving him a bad impression of me!” His voice sounds thicker than it has the rest of the morning, enough that it takes her a moment to understand his words.

“A bad impression it might be, but an accurate one,” she says. “Remember your handkerchiefs, mind your teacher, I love you.” She kisses her boy’s head and lets herself out and does not worry about him making it to school on his own, just as she hasn’t worried since his first day.

She should have worried, she realizes when she gets home to find her son with a bruise rising on his jaw, a sturdy dark-haired lad about a year older than him, and the mending basket pulled out between them.

“Oh, Steven,” she sighs, since he’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t. “Who’s your friend, then?”

“Ma, this is Booky.” He sounds even worse than when she left, but it’s nothing a bit of steam won’t help. “Booky, this is my ma.”

“Booky?” she asks the lad, since she’s certain she hasn’t heard Steven correctly.

Possibly Booky hops to his feet. “Bucky, ma’am.” He smiles at her, sweet and wide and missing a tooth. “James Buchanan Barnes. I go to school with Stevie.”

“Steeb,” Steven grumbles, but he doesn’t do more than that.

“Nah, remember? That’s Steeb,” Bucky says, pointing to the tiniest Pocket Sarah has ever seen. He has wispy blond hair and looks as though he’s trying to climb Steven. “An’ that’s Booky.” This time, he points to the one rummaging through the mending.

“He’s not Booky!”

“He’s Booky,” Bucky confides to Sarah.

At least she can kiss the top of his head.

#marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sarah rogers #stucky #soulmate au #pocket au #steeb and booky

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thyfleshc0nsumed · 5 months ago

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Rosie's Vision

By Rosie Marie Linda Hahn, admin of TGGuide. Posted 11/02/1996

"I had a dream." A statement I have made many times throughout my life. "I had a dream." Sounds like I went through life with my head stuck in the clouds, and no direction. Well nothing could be further from the truth. I spent a lifetime battleing my way along the path of life. I worked hard, raising 5 children and even some of my grandchildren. I did the best I could with the business's I ran, the family I provided for, the friends I had, and life in general. So what is this stuff about a dream? Why did I feel like I was not counted on this earth? Worst of all, why did I wear dresses?

Yes, you read it right, I wear womens clothes. I am a pervert, a weirdo, a society cast away. I always felt that I was doing something very wrong, something that was not accepted by society, but it seemed so natural, something I should be doing. Was I just a mistake of nature? Did the lord that I believe in so strongly, and trust with all my soul, make a mistake? He sent me here as a boy? How could he have made such a mistake? I know I am the only one in the world that has been born this way! There is no way my lord would make two mistakes!

If you are reading this, you may be in the same canoe as I am, maybe you are just curious to find out about all these silly men in dresses, maybe you are genuinely concerned, or you really want to know more. Hell, maybe you are just as confused about why this desire, or should I say, this need to wear women's clothes instilled in MY body.

Why did the lord make me this way? If you are like me; you also feel like you are the only mistake in the world. After all, children are born with deformities every day, but only ONE boy is born with the need to be female, and that is me! Well, let me assure you, and me; we are not the only ones with this unconventional way of life. You and I are just two within a community made up of millions. I have come to the realization that the lord did not make any mistakes; he made us special.. He provided us special people with a gift that not many people have. The ability to live on both side of the fence. He blessed us with the sweetness, strength, and genuine concern for the well being of others; female traits. He gave us the drive, staying power, and the will to survive: male traits.

"I had a dream"? What does that mean? Well, through out my life, while hiding in my closet; the desire to seek out others like me has always been very high on my list. The desire to find answers to the thousands of questions I have had. The desire to find out WHY? Why me??

That question;"WHY", although not answered as yet, is at least within the realm of possibility. The fact that I am the only one has broken through, and guess what? I'M NOT!!!! The years of blameing others for my problems, the thousands of WHY'S, the failures, the success's... The questions I asked my parents as a kid, "why do I like to play with girls stuff? Why won't the boys pick me for their team? Mommy, why won't daddy let me play with that doll??

The answers were always the same, "Because you are a boy!!" Because I am a boy? What is that? I fought very hard throught out my life to maintain a male image. Why? Don't know! I guess I was supposed to? Daddy taught me to be a man?? Still, I do not understand... In my days they made everybody be right handed! My adult life was a mixed up mess of high and low paying positions, in and out of business, more ups and downs than anyone should have to bear.. And at every turn, I was asking; "When do I get to be me?" "When can I put on my dress?" "When is it my turn to live my life? "

"I HAVE A DREAM." and now my dream can be yours.. What I have fought for, I dream that you do not have to. What I have prayed for, I pray you do not have to. The questions I scoured the world to find answers for, I dream you do not have to.. The turmoil that was bestowed upon me, I dream you do not have to struggle through.

The dream is a rather simple idea. Those of the gender community should have at their feet all of the answers. They should have all the resources. This information should be easy to find, this information should be FREE.

With the help of many wnderful people that share my dream, I have put together a web site that shall; I PRAY; help us all. I shall strive, with my last breath, to make all the resources that pretain to the gender community available to all that need and want this information. AND IT SHALL ALWAYS BE FREE TO THE COMMUNITY. Those that need the help, shall get it.. Please, do not interupt this to say that I have all the answers, I do not. Our site is a growing site and it will always grow.. I shall gather as much information as I can, I shall get it on line as fast as I can, I shall always to the best I can to produce a quality site.

My dream is for the premier site! I pray that all those sealed in the closet can come out, at least those that want to. If I can help one person attain their goal in life, help just one person acheive their dream, I shall consider I have done something.

I HAD A DREAM. No longer 'had'- I now have a dream in the making. I suppose it will always be a dream. Lord, please let us live the life we feel that we must live. Do allow others to see that we are real people, trying to live!!!

Our site is working with and will always work with those in the community that are looking to move forward. We must eliminate the prejudice. We must help others. WE must always love our neighbors, no matter who they are.. To quote a very lovely genetic lady, Christy Lane; "Everything is beautiful, in its own way."

My dream is a reality.. We shall never walk alone again.

#trans #transfem #ts #girlslikeus

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exquisitesimp · 2 years ago

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Your First Date with Dazai

A/N: Hello to everyone reading this! This is my first post here, it's a short story about the reader's (F) first encounter and date with Dazai. English is not my first language, so don't hesitate to message me if you think I need to make any corrections. Thanks for reading and liking my post, it means a lot!! Stay healthy, eat well and drink plenty of water!! - Sam

Tags: Bungo Stray Dogs, Dazai Osamu, First Date, Fluff, SFW

Word Count: 3k approx.

It’s only been a week in your new job as a waitress at your local restaurant. Living in Yokohama all alone has been kinda tough on your wallet, and you had to get a job immediately after losing your previous one. A restaurant job wouldn’t be your first option, but you really needed it to pay your rent.

So far things have been running pretty smoothly, you’ve had no trouble with any customers and the manager congratulated you on how well you’re doing. You had started getting used to the calm atmosphere of the restaurant. You’re getting along with your co-workers, but you haven’t gotten too close yet. You know them for only a week after all.

That Friday evening the restaurant had been very quiet. That was no longer the case when two tall, peculiar men entered the place, causing you to take a look to see where the noise was coming from. They seemed to be having an intense conversation, but you couldn’t afford to pay close attention.

“Do these men come here often?”, you asked the manager, who happened to be standing closeby.

“Yes, don’t mind them… By the way, you’re responsible for cleaning up and closing tonight. Your keys are in your locker”

“Yes, sir” you said as he left for the kitchen.

You went to take the order from these men, who had sat themselves at a table for two.

“Good evening gentlemen, would you like to take a look at our menu?”

Both men were deeply focused on what looked like reports, laid out on the table.

“No thank you, we already know what we’re having. I’ll be having a Katsudon dish” said one man, lifting his head up . He wore glasses, had blond hair and was very serious-looking.

“Alright. And what about you?”, you asked, addressing the other man.

“I’ll be having the nikujaga and some sak- oh my god”, he said, as he lifted his head to look at you. His hair and eyes were chocolate brown, and had bandages wrapped around his neck and his arms.

“Is anything wrong, sir?”

“Kunikida-kun, Kunikida-kun”, he said tugging his friend’s sleeve, “do you see what I see?”

“You better not say anything stupid…”, the other man replied.

“Is this an angel right in front of me? Can you see her too, or am I the only one with eyes blessed enough to perceive her otherworldly beauty?”

“Dear Lord…”, the other man muttered.

“What a beautiful creature! Her mesmerizing eyes are piercing right through my very soul, it’s like they’re keeping all the secrets of the world, but yet they look so honest. And what a pretty face she has! Absolutely dazzling…And her cheeks, they’ve turned all rosy red. She’s all shy and humble too! Ah~ this is all too much for me to handle”

He gently took your hand and held it with both of his hands, gently stroking it with his fingertips.

“What is your name, beautiful lady?”

You were at a loss for words. What has just happened? Why is a stranger showering you with compliments? Nobody has ever talked to you like this, so it’s not strange that you turned into a blushing mess. It was still very weird, and you really didn’t know how to react.

“Y/N…”, it was difficult to even utter your name…

“Ah, wonderful! My name is Osamu Dazai”, he said, bringing your hand closer to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on it with his eyes locked in yours, “enchanted to meet you”

Once again, you didn’t know what to say. He was a beautiful man for sure, there was something sweet in his facial features. You’ve never had people be so flirty, let alone a customer.

“It’s the first time I see you. You’re new around here, aren’t you?”, he said, still holding your hand.

“Yeah, it’s been a week now…”

“Oh, wonderful! This is Kunikida-kun, a colleague of mine. We come here to eat every now and then. How do you like it here?”

“It’s nice, I guess…”

“How nice it is to have such an alluring woman serve us! We’re gonna come here every single day now!”

“Dazai stop, you’re embarrassing yourself”, said Kunikida.

“I’m just expressing how stunning Y/N-chan is”, Dazai responded, looking at you with a smirk.

A nervous chuckle escaped your mouth.

“I really don’t know what to say…”, you said, staring right at your feet, unable to look him in the eye after everything he said.

“Oh don’t be shy, sweetie! How about you come sit with us for a second, we can get to know each other better? You got a lot of work at this time?”

“WE have a lot of work at this time”, Kunikida intervened.

“ADADADADA!”, Dazai said, shushing Kunikida with his index finger. “I was talking to Y/N-chan! What do you say?”

“Friday evenings are usually busy to be honest…” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Okay, then how about we go for a drink once you’re done with work?”

“Uhhh-”

“I’m really sorry that you have to go through this”, Kunikida said.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it…” you replied.

“Please go back to your work, I hope my friend doesn’t bother you again”

“I’ll bring your order right away”

You walked away with a shy smile,overhearing the following conversation between the two men:

“Kunikida-kun what are you doin-”

“No, what are YOU doing?! We have all these papers to go through!”

“But Y/N is so cute!!!”

You giggled. It seems like these two were taken straight out of a comedy. Dazai kept calling your name every time you walked past their table, but you just smiled at him and went on with your work.

“Katsudon for Kunikida-san, and nikujaga and sake for Dazai-san”, you said, leaving their plates on their table.

“Ah, thank you sweetie! Why don’t you feed me with these elegant hands of yours?”

“Dazai!!!”, said Kunikida, smacking his friend’s Dazai’s head. “I’m so very sorry”

You laughed and walked away. You’d normally feel very uncomfortable with such strange comments being addressed to you. But these two are just so adorable and hilarious together that it’s not bothering you nearly as much.

In fact, Dazai grew more and more attractive in your eyes. This tall, smart-ass of a fool found his way into your heart with his humorous personality.

“Did you like your food?”

“Delicious, but nothing quite like you”, said Dazai.

Kunikida rolled his eyes, leaving the bill face down for you to pick it up.

“Keep the change. It’s for your patience”, he said.

“Oh, you didn’t have to. Thank you so much though”

“What time do you finish work, sweetie?”, Dazai asked.

“We’re closing at 9, but I have closing and cleaning duties for tonight”

“Oh, poor girl! I bet you’ll need some company while you do that”

“I’ll make my way out, It’s getting late”, said Kunikida.

“Ah Kunikida-kun what a goody two-shoes you are!”, Dazai teased.

“I won’t be responding to that…”

“Your ideals don’t allow you to do that either?” he inquired, lifting an eyebrow and anticipating his friend’s reaction.

Kunikida took a deep breath, as if to hold his anger to himself, and resist the temptation to strangle his companion.

“Good-bye Y/N, it was nice meeting you. As for YOU, Dazai, I’ll see you tomorrow at work unfortunately”

You laughed and greeted him goodbye as he closed the glass door behind him.

“Finally, now it’s just the two of us now”, Dazai said, holding your hand as you were ready to walk to the cashing machine.

“And many more customers, in case you haven’t noticed”, you joked.

He laughed. His laugh was so cute, it made your heart flutter.

“Half an hour before 9. I’ll be waiting right here!”, he said as you walked away.

Time passed, the customers had all left, and so did the other employees. Dazai was the only one in the restaurant, patiently waiting at his table for you to finish your work, casually annoying you as you were sweeping and mopping the floor, singing all sorts of love songs and ballads to grasp your attention. You couldn't help but laugh at his silly attempts, which meant they were absolutely working.

It took you a while, but you were finally done with everything you had to do. The man was still there waiting.

“You’re quite persistent, Dazai-san”

“Oh gorgeous, please just call me Dazai. Don’t address me like I’m your superior! Ready to go?”

“Go where?”

“For a drink!”

“Where?”

“I know a nice bar that’s not too far away. It has an amazing view of Yokohama for you, and you’ll be the amazing view for me”

It’s no lie that his swoon-worthy words made you nervous and swept you off your feet.

“Sure I guess… Give me a minute to change and get my stuff”

“Lovely! I’ll be waiting”

You walked to the bar he was talking about, and he was absolutely right about the view. It was stunning. Dazai was the one leading the conversation most of the time because your shyness got the best of you.

“Don’t be so quiet, Y/N-chan! Tell me more about you!”

“Well, I’ve told you, I moved in Yokohama recently”

“What is it that brought you here?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to break free from what was holding me back….”

“Ooh, very enigmatic. What was holding you back exactly?”

“You’re quite curious, aren’t you?”

“Pardon me, gorgeous”, Dazai chuckled, “You're right, not everything can be revealed on the first date....”

“Date?”

“Yes of course! Isn’t that what this is, Y/N-chan?”, he said, covering your hand with his.

“Look at these thin, delicate fingers…”, he stroked them softly, “and such elegant wrists…” and gazed at your hands in complete fascination. “Isn’t there anything you want to know about me?”

“I don’t know…”

“You can ask anything at all”

“Okay… Why are your arms covered in bandages?”

“Right in the deep, I see….”

“I just found it odd, among many other things about you…”

“You’re just so cute…”

“You’re avoiding my question Dazai-san”

“Dazai”

Dazai…

There’s undeniably something you are feeling about this man. Maybe it’s the bar, the lovely view, or his beautiful eyes, but you want to spend more time with him.

“You’ll find out about these bandages soon enough… on our next date!”, he said.

“There’s gonna be a second date?”

“Only if you want there to be one”

You turned your head to search for his eyes, only to find that they were already looking at you. A smile formed in your lips, a smile which Dazai reciprocated sweetly before he took a sip of his drink.

Liking him felt so natural to you. You only knew very few things about him, but there was a connection between you, one you couldn’t possibly ignore no matter how hard you tried.

It was getting late, so you decided to leave. Dazai paid for your drinks and insisted on walking you home. The lovely conversation continued as you were walking under the dark sky and the dim light of street lamps.

“What if I did want a second date?”

“That would be just delightful. What would you want us to do for our second date?”

“I don’t know, maybe this time I can come to your workplace instead, and distract you by relentlessly flirting with you until you agree to go out with me after work”

Dazai laughed, and then sighed. “So cute…”

And there goes your mind, once again, blank. It happens every time he compliments you, and you don’t know what to say. Words were not enough. You walked a bit closer to him and strategically let your hand stroke his. He immediately got the hint and intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a warm squeeze.

“Don’t act as if you didn’t like it though”, he teased.

“Oh well, it was definitely… grandiose”

“So you liked it”

“That’s not what I said”

“You definitely did”

“Can I change your mind?”

“It’s too late for that now… why would you be here with me if it weren’t the case?”

A few quiet moments went by. He wasn't wrong at all.

“Gotcha! Oh, what a cutie…” he chuckled, letting go of your hand to ruffle your head, and then wrapping his arm around you. It felt so exciting, and yet so calm and safe. You wanted to remember every thought and every feeling you experienced during these fleeting moments with him.

“We should really exchange numbers”, you said.

“We will. We have to arrange that second date after all”

“Right”, you chuckled.

“I have the best idea for our next date”, said Dazai followed by a dramatic pause. “Double suicide!”

The spark in his eyes as he was saying these last two words was adorable in every way possible.

“What?”, you laughed, “that’s even weirder than the bandages!”

Dazai laughed as well, not feeling the need to explain himself on this unusual idea of his. Hearing your laugh was all he needed.

A few minutes of walking together, voices and giggles filling the silence of the night, you arrived at your doorstep. As you spent more and more time with him, you realised that there was much more to this man than what you could see.

Despite his witty comments and cute clownery, he also had a more serious and thoughtful side. And despite sometimes ridiculing himself, he turned out to be so much smarter than you expected. He does, after all, do some sort of detective work, which he was impressed that you could figure out just by glancing at the papers on the restaurant table a few hours ago.

You were having fun and enjoying his company so much, you didn’t want to take your separate ways.

“Here we are…” you said, with a sigh.

“Yeah…”

Dazai moved closer to you. You lifted your head a little higher to meet his eyes. His slender fingers caressed your cheek, and his gaze was so soft and tender.

“Thank you, Y/N. Tonight was beautiful”

“I had a great time too”

The man couldn’t take his eyes off your lips. He really wanted to kiss you before he left, and he had been thinking about it the whole night. It was obvious from the way he was looking at you that he was very afraid of making the wrong move and scaring you away. It was the first time during the whole date that you saw this expression carved on his handsome face.

You were feeling just as confused. Part of you wanted to jump in his arms and seal the night with a goodbye kiss, but another part of you was scared that you were moving too fast. You knew this guy just for a couple of hours after all. But at that very moment, letting him go just like that would make the night feel incomplete…

“The thing you called ‘grandiose flirting’, there was not an ounce of exaggeration in it… I meant every single word I said to you…” followed by a pause, “No exceptions at all”.

At this point, all there was in your mind were words, floating in an empty space; “beautiful”, “mesmerizing”, “angel”, "dazzling", “alluring”, “elegant”, “delicate”, “gorgeous”, “cute”, “sweetie”…

You put an end to his troublesome thoughts and dilemmas by going on the tips of your toes, cupping his face, and planting a kiss on his lips, obviously without thinking very clearly.

He looked at you with eyes wide open, somewhat surprised at your bravery, with a subtle blush on his cheeks.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight, I got carried away because you are so sweet and kind and I’m clearly mov-“

“Can we… do that again?”, he whispered softly, with a little smile on his lips, as he was processing what just happened.

“Well now it’s done, so…”

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll only go for it if you want me to”

You paused for a while.

“Well, yeah… let’s do it again”

“Lovely…”, he said, gently cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

Unlike you, Dazai was not acting on a whim. He made every moment last what felt like forever, and that gave you the chance to pay attention to all the little details.

His lips were very soft and warm, moving in a way that was so delicate, and yet gave you such intense feelings. While one of his hands still rested peacefully on your cheek, the other was slowly and mindlessly drawing shapes in your back. Once he reached your waist, he pulled you closer to himself.

You wanted to remember everything about this; the sweetness of his words, the taste of his lips, his touch which resembled that of a feather...

“Magic…”, he whispered as he broke the kiss. He took a moment to look at your face and your dilated pupils “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…”

“I should get going”, he added.

“When are we gonna meet again?”

“Can’t wait to kiss me again, huh?”, he teased. “I’ll call you during the weekend, I absolutely will!”

“Okay...”

“Goodnight, Y/N ”, he said, kissing your hand like he did when he introduced himself to you.

“Goodnight, Osamu Dazai”

His gaze softened when you called him by his full name. He walked away and you got inside your apartment. Part of you was already missing him.

As you were lying in bed, reminiscing moments from your date while staring at the ceiling and smiling to yourself like an idiot, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Dazai:

“I had an amazing time tonight. It's sad that I had to go when things were just getting good. We’ll meet again soon, it’s a promise! And we'll pick it up from where we left it...Sweet dreams, gorgeous <3”

#bungo stray dogs #anime #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd

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illiana-mystery · 9 months ago

Text

WIP Whenever

So I am currently making my way through finishing Chapter 3 of both Snow Angel (my Leonhard Seppala fic) and Chasing Foxy (my new Norman Osborn fic).

And I didn't want to wait until Wednesday, so here's a sneak peek of both of the chapters today! 😁😆

Hopefully, both chapters will be finished and posted sometime this week! 🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾

Taglist: @ghnaim24, @currvycurly, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @emily-ella-nightshade89, @goodoldcharley, @writingkitten

---

Snow Angel

"You alright? It makes sense that I'm winded, but you're young. I thought you would have more energy than me."

She laughed.

"You're not that old, Leonard. What are you...like 35?"

"I'm almost 50," he corrected her. "But thanks for the compliment."

"Hmm, you really don't look a day over 40," she assured him. "Norwegians must age very well compared to Russians and Alaskans."

He snickered.

"You're too kind. But now I'm afraid to ask how old you are?"

"Almost 30," she responded, to his shock.

"Really?! I thought you were mid-twenties."

She giggled.

"No, I'm 29 so that probably makes you 49, right?"

He nodded.

"Hmm, well I've always found older men more attractive," she boldly said, leaning closer to him.

"What are you getting at?"

She laughed.

"Nothing at all," she teased, before she moved from his grasp. "Let's get to reinforcing those kennels."

He was speechless once she suggested that.

Here she was clearly being more bold with her flirting, and now she was making her way down the ladder.

Pretending like it never happened.

Although the smirk on her face said otherwise.

Did she like him as much as he liked her?

He was more than confused, trying desperately not to scare her away.

Sure she was stuck, but he also didn't want her to be distant from him while she was stuck.

He just didn't want to misinterpreted her flirting.

She was probably just being nice, he told himself.

---

Chasing Foxy

"It'll be okay," Rosie assured him after grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "You'll do fine. If General Slocum can't appreciate your genius, he's a fool. You're brilliant, Norman. Just like my big old man."

Otto chuckled, before he kissed his wife's cheek.

"Rosie, I love your positivity, but Slocum is a hard man to impress. Norman is well within his right to be worried."

"Ugh, I suppose so," she huffed in defeat, before taking a sip of her Chardonnay.

"I do appreciate your positivity though," Norman assured Rosie.

"Thank you, Norman," she smugly said, looking at her husband after.

"And this is why I fell in love with you, Rosalie. You charmed me with the positivity, but stayed for your sass."

"The stress relief sex helped too," she remarked as she took another sip of wine.

"You got that right," he said with a hardy chuckle.

"I've always envied your relationship," Norman admitted. "I loved Emily, but we were never like you two."

"Emily was always in the clouds, bless her heart," Rosie started. "But I know she loved you as much as you loved her."

"That's a nice thought, Rosie. But you know I pushed her away. In my pursuit of success, I forgot about her and Harry. She would have divorced me if she hadn't died first," he revealed before he looked back at his phone, pondering if he should text Foxy back.

"Norman, you don't know..."

"I found the divorce papers she hid after her funeral," he admitted. "I loved her so much, but my ambition clouded that part of my brain. She deserved the man she fell in love with. I'm just glad she had Harry before she died. I'm glad that she had someone to love when she couldn't get any love from her husband. And I was so ashamed, I shipped my son away. I kept shipping him away until now..."

He felt like he was about to cry, but he held his tears back once he scrolled back to the picture of Foxy she had sent him with her message last night.

"I just hope I'm better to my new girlfriend," he whimpered as he texted her back.

Thank you, mommy. 😊 You're making me blush. I really needed your message right now. I feel a lot better now, but I will still need your healing. I really can't wait to see you again tonight. You're making your baby boy so giddy. 😆❤️

The couple across from him was speechless while he was texting. They knew about his strained marriage to Emily due to his overambition and his non-existant relationship with Harry. But they had no idea she was gonna divorce him before she ultimately died.

That just showed that he was really having a hard time. It wasn't like him to be so open about his failings, even to his old friends.

And even Rosie was starting to realize that her positivity wasn't just gonna magically fix all his woes.

Oh, honey. Mommy knows you still need her to make you feel better. I can't wait to see you too. I'm gonna give you so many kisses and cuddle you so tight tonight. 😘

He was absolutely red in the face when he read her reply, which Rosie noticed.

"Should we leave you alone?" she teased to lighten the mood. "Because you're as red as the tomato sauce."

"No, no. I'm fine. My girlfriend is just so sweet."

"Aww!" Rosie cooed again. "Well, it won't be too much longer until you see her again."

"Yeah," he hummed happily.

#wip #current wip #my wips #wips #work in progress #wip whenever #fanfiction #fanfic #my fan fic #my fanfiction #get hyped

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rosiahills22 · 2 years ago

Text

Notice me

Jake “hangman” seresin x Rosie Seresin

Disclaimer! This is my first time writing so be kind! Let me know what you think please! Comment, message, reblog! Thank you! Also no use of Y/N

Warnings: pregnancy, birth, post partum depression, arguing, slight suggestion at the end

If you told me 5 years ago I would be married to Jake Seresin and now have a beautiful baby girl together, I would never believe you. Here we are married for 3 years together for 5 with our beautiful daughter, Daisy Grace Seresin who just turned 6 weeks

They always tell you about the beautiful things of having a child. The first smiles, the giggles, warm bath time and reading stories, all the sweet newborn cuddles. Watching your husband be a girl dad. What they don’t tell you is becoming a mother can make you feel like you are not your own person anymore. They don’t tell you that you will feel lonely, the most alone you will ever feel. I never understood why moms got the baby blues when they just had such a blessing, but now I’m on the cruel end of it.

It’s not Jakes fault he doesn’t notice how distant I’ve become or how I’m in my head most days. He has work, and a new baby to think about. But…why can’t he see I’m silently drowning,questioning everything I’m doing. Am I enough? Not only for Daisy but for Jake as well. Am I holding her right, am I spending enough time with Jake? Has he noticed I still have 10 pounds of baby weight to lose? All these questions swirling in my mind 24/7 makes the little sleep I get difficult. And now we are hosting a BBQ for the dagger squad to spend more time together and get Daisy used to her little family.

The dagger squad and penny and mav all started to arrive at the Seresin house around 4:30pm. Phoenix and Penny helping Rosie out in the kitchen while fanboy stole Daisy from her bassinet in the kitchen. “Don’t drop my daughter Mickey” giving him a pointed look that should have come off playful but came off more anxiety ridden than anything. All fanboy did was nod and joined the men outside around the grill and picnic table.

“So Rosie, how is motherhood treating you?” Penny asked while chopping carrots for the salad. You swear she was giving you a sympathetic look, almost like she knows everything going on in your head.

“Oh it’s great penny, thank you” Rosie smiled, more of a grimace, making penny and phoenix frown.

“Well let’s these sides out the meat should be done any moment now” Rosie said

Penny and Phoenix shared a look but followed Rosie outside none the less. Penny mentally promised to watch Rosie tonight and see if she notices anything else a little off with the seresin wife.

As the girls joined the guys and Daisy outside she noticed Rooster now holding little Daisy making her happy as can be.

“There’s my pretty lady” Jake smiled, reaching an arm out towards Rosie. Rosie put the bowl of salad down and reached towards Jake wrapping her arms around him. “Here I am” barely a smile on the girls lips. Rooster, mav, payback and bob seemed to notice the low energy Rosie was giving but seemed to blame it on being a new mother.

“Well everyone, let’s eat!” Mav said.

Rosie took Daisy from Roosters arms and held her while she ate, a salad because those 10 pounds have been nagging her all day, mocking her. It’s a little hard with one arm and a wiggly baby but, she’s mom she has to take care of Daisy, well that’s what her mind says. Once Penny was done, she offered to take Daisy.

“Here Rosie I can take Daisy so you can finish”

“Oh no” Rosie started “that’s alright I’m done anyway”

“Rosie you just had some salad…you sure you’re full”

“Yeah..I had a good lunch and you know how hard baby weight it to lose” Rosie laughed trying to play it off. But everyone shared a little look with eachother. A look saying that was a little off for Rosie to say. Usually Rosie is very body positive. This comment goes right over Jakes head as he’s too busy trying to get Daisy to laugh in Rosie’s arms.

The rest of the night seems to go smoothly, atleast for Jake it does. Every once in awhile Rosie makes a degrading comment about herself that she laughs off or a “oh you know just mom stuff I guess”. Everyone seems to notice the sad eyes and distant smile in Rosie, everyone but her husband. The daggers all agree to stay a little bit and see if they can get Jake away long enough to ask if Rosie is alright.

Daisy let’s put a long yawn, “well I think it’s time for little ladies bedtime” Rosie says. “You want me to take her darlin’?” Jake says. “Oh no I’m gonna feed her to sleep tonight, seems a little hungry” Jake leans over and gives a goodnight kiss to Daisy on her forehead and the daggers all day their good nights.

Penny thinks now is the time. “Hey Jake is Rosie okay?” Jake gives a curious frowns “yeah..why?” Phoenix looks around and then at Jake and says “Well she was making comments about herself all night, not nice comments either and barely smiled all night.”

Jakes frowns deeply and says “Well…what..she just is tired…right?” Jake is now thinking back, really thinking and is starting to realize all the comments about her weight, needing constant reassurance she’s doing something right. Now Jake is noticing how she barely touches him, sleeps towards the edge of the bed, pushes him away subtly by saying she needs to pump or change daisy’s diaper. The giant sweaters in this San Diego heat.

Jake wants to punch himself now, how could he let his amazing wife think of herself as anything less than perfect. Jake starts to look around at everyone, all giving him sympathetic looks.

“How did I not see her hurting?” Jake starts, before he could spiral anymore Penny says “I think she has post partum depression, Jake, it’s very common, especially in first time moms” Jake just can’t believe his sunshine is having cloudy days. Rosie is the most amazing human, Jake thinks, she should be nothing but happy all the time, she deserves it.

“Doesn’t she have a 6 week appointment coming up soon?” Payback recalls to the group. “Uh..yeah it’s on Monday” Jake states. “Maybe she needs to bring up these doubts and feelings to the doctor.” Bob says “she’s hurting and she may need more help beyond what we can do” Bob finishes.

“We will be by you guys through this all, babysitting, just sitting with Rosie if you need to be gone” Coyote starts “but you need to help Rosie realize she needs help too”

Jakes head feels like it’s spinning, like a bomb just dropped. But he needs to get it on straight and buckle up, because his wife is hurting and he needs to help her anyway he can.

“Talk to Rosie tonight and give us a call in the morning with anything we could do to help” Maverick says. “I think it’s time to call it a night everyone” Rooster states. The daggers all give Jake reassuring smiles and hugs and Penny reassured him again that it’s normal and he couldn’t have prevented this. Jake closes the front door and makes his way upstairs.

When he gets to their bedroom Rosie is combing through her wet hair, having just took a shower. “Hey, everyone leave? Sorry I didn’t come back down I just needed a shower” Rosie says. “Yeah they left, don’t worry, they send their love” Jake says.

Jake is now just starring at Rosie wondering how to bring this up with her. Rosie notices jakes starring and asks “…you okay?”. Jake just sighs and decides to bite the bullet, “Are you okay?”. Rosie looks around confused “yeah…why are you asking?”. Jake decides to just put it all out there. Rosie just gives Jake a confused smile.

“The others pointed it out to me tonight and I don’t know how I never noticed and I will beat myself up everyday for it but you’ve been distant and making mean comments about yourself” slowly the confused smile drops from Rosie’s face. Her mind is going crazy, the others noticed? Was I acting that weird? Maybe they notice I’m not that great too.

“Jake…I’m fine.” Rosie turns to the vanity to put lotion on her stomach, trying to get these stretch marks gone. She is so in her head she doesn’t even realize she’s rubbing her skin raw and tears are starting to line her eyes, Jake is trying to talk to her. “Honey!” Jake says loudly. Rosie finally snaps out of it and looks at Jake. Jake walks over to Rosie and grabs her hands.

“Baby what is wrong?” Jake says. Rosie just looks at him and all of a sudden feels like a dam burst in her chest and she just starts sobbing. Jake is quick to bring her to his chest cooing at her and telling her everything is ok.

“I don’t know what is happening to me!” Rosie cried “I feel sad and lonely all the time! It’s like I’m a stranger in my own body, I hate myself! I hate the stretch marks, I hate this fucking 10 pounds I can’t lose! My hair is ugly, I never sleep and I feel so horrible because I know I can be better for you and Daisy, you both deserve better than what I’m giving” Rosie is still clutching onto Jake for some sense of grounding. “ I just don’t know what to do, I can’t keep feeling like this, I can’t.”

Jake feels awful standing their holding his wife. Not noticing she was drowning in her own mind.

“Baby..baby look at me” Rosie looks up at Jake. “There’s my pretty girl” Jake gives a small smile. Rosie just stares at Jake.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m sorry I didn’t see you hurting earlier. But I see you now and I’m going to do everything I can to help you see what I see.” Jake starts “wanna know what I see?” Jake says. Rosie just nods her head. “I see my entire world when I look at you, I see my gorgeous wife who has the most kind heart, I see those beautiful eyes that I could get lost in for hours, I see you being the best damn mother I have ever seen. I see you baby, you are so gorgeous to me, stretch marks and all, and those 10 pounds? Yeah that went straight to those hips I love to grab” Jake smirks, Rosie rolls her eyes fondly and gives a slight chuckle.

“There’s my girl, all I want to see is your smile, what can I do baby?” Jake says

“I don’t know…Jake I think I need help, like professional help” Rosie states. Jake looks at her with nothing but fondness and pride. She’s so strong Jake thinks.

“Okay baby we will talk with your doctor at your appointment on Monday, ok?” Jake says. “Sounds like a plan to me” Rosie says. Rosie looks over at Jake smirking. Jake looks at her with gleeful curiosity. “What are you smirking at?” Rosie looks at Jake and smiled innocently “you know I’ll probably be cleared for certain activities on Monday, but for now I think hugs and kisses will make me feel better till then”. Jake just smirks at his wife and says “Now I can definitely do that” Jake and Rosie lay in bed together all night holding eachother and laughing, kisses here and there. In their own peaceful quiet bliss.

Until Daisy felt left out and and starting crying over the baby monitor. “Duty calls” Jake says kissing her forehead. Rosie looks as Jake goes and gets Daisy, realizing she didn’t need to be alone in her mind, cause she has the best support team out there. She also set a reminder to thank the dagger squad. They sure are the best family.

MY FIRST STORY EVER! Remember to be kind! Feedback is always welcome! Comment, reblog and message and follow me! ❤️ thanks for reading!

#top gun #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #glen powell #hangman #top gun maverick hangman

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