#but at the same time I have to finish a couple of other applications and reach out to more professors

[spacebell]

it’s 10 am on Monday and I have no motivation left for the rest of the week

[justslowdown]

I've posted about how more people qualify for federal aid than know it, and how many programs there are. I want to specifically talk about free internet and cell service!

For free cell service and a phone if you need one (most let you keep using yours too), you need to make about $20,000 a year or less for a single person household.

For the Affordable Connectivity Program, which is internet specific and also will help discount phones, laptops, and tablets, the number is about $30,000.

For the ACP, if you're a student, receiving a Pell Grant qualifies you as well! I know some people were wondering if they could apply for SNAP/food stamps if they're in college. As long as you're over 18 and your legal residence isn't your family home (otherwise you'll need to include their income), absolutely.

Look up "[Your state] Lifeline providers" for cell, or "[Your state] Affordable Connectivity Program" for internet and help buying a tablet or computer. Do a little digging before picking a provider. In both states I've done this, some companies offered unlimited data, others didn't. You CAN receive both program assistance at the same time.

This might be an exception, but if you don't have all the documentation you need and it isn't feasible to get it together, it's still worth applying. I was approved and got a phone a couple weeks after doing a half-finished application, without utility bills or proof of address.

[angelsdean]

thinking about young dean who dreamed of being a rock star. dean who wanted to go to college and have friends and stay in one place long enough to plant roots. dean who thrived at sonny's, who won the state wrestling championship. dean who when he was 12 wanted to play on the baseball team and then pretended not to care when john moved them around too much for him to be part of any teams. dean who loved being a P.A. because he liked to be part of a team. dean who wanted a normal job and a normal life. dean who got his GED quietly, secretly, despite not needing it for the life he led, but he wanted it. perhaps because he was still dreaming of an after. because john always said there would be an after. "after we kill this thing...after we avenge mary..." because despite all john's faults and failure, he was still, paradoxically, a dreamer. he was still mary's suburban dream. he still believed, despite everything, that the past 22 yrs could be overcome by simply killing the demon. that at the end of it, they'd go back to being a normal family. sam would go to college. dean would have a home. and i imagine him telling his kids this, that it all ends when they kill the thing that killed mary. that's the finish line. in lebanon, john is shocked to find that was not the finish line. shocked that there was no return to the Normal, no white picket fences. he doesn't understand that they were all irrevocably changed the night mary died and john chose to seek revenge. but anyway, i think of young dean, holding onto that belief, for a time, that there could be a life after hunting. so he gets his GED, just in case. because he's still dreaming, despite, despite. and i think of dean who outwardly scoffed at apple pie this and that, and whose favorite food is pie. dean who seeks home cooked meals and comforts. dean who wishes for food he doesn't have to buy at a mini mart. dean who nests when he finally has a static place to call home. dean who decorates his room with pride, who grins giddy at the thought of a mattress that remembers him. not an anonymous motel bed, but one that is his own, that will mold to the shape of him. dean who michael drowns in "contentment" and his contentment is simply...not hunting. his contentment is being the safe place to land for his family and having a normal job and serving others. his contentment is waiting for his family to come home and offering them a drink and some food. he doesn't want for much, but he wants his family to be safe and cared for. dean who pretends to be a horrible cook to comfort his mom, the actual horrible cook. dean who bakes his kid a lopsided cake (his first time baking!) out of love. dean who sees a married couple dancing together in their living room and thinks "i always thought i could do that (have that)." dean who earlier in that same episode takes pointers from garth on how to "dance", following along until he can do it himself and then dancing with LAMP. dean who, even after losing everything, after losing his best friend and his HEART, still tries, even if he is perhaps going through the motions, still tries to live some kind of normal, who picks up a job application, who still dreams of doing something other than hunting. because hunting was never the dream. because inside of him is still a little kid who wanted to be rockstar, or a mechanic, who wanted more, and thought maybe he could actually have it.

[the-midnight-blooms]

ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ

pairing: CEO!park seonghwa x scientistwife!reader

AU: modern au

word count: 6.3k

masterlist

In the midst of a fragile soul dwindling under the aches of animosity, the married couple laid in bed with their backs facing each other. The husband, Park Seonghwa, an esteemed CEO of a pharmaceutical company ‘Park Pharmaceuticals.’ had the front board of the book lodged into the silk casing of his pillow with his other hand steadying it so he could still, quite painfully, scan his eyes over the text. Agitated, he got up with a grunt before sitting up to finish the chapter of his book. With his scientists publishing reports on the latest medicine they were developing, he immediately rushed back to his university textbooks to affirm he was still equipped with the necessary knowledge to understand the science. Meanwhile, Mrs Park- a research scientist at Park Pharmaceuticals' rival company, ‘Kim Pharma.’ was battling against her insomnia despite motherhood knocking her straight off her feet. Their daughter, Park Dami, was fast asleep in the room next door to Seonghwa’s study cuddling the little Toothless toy he had gifted her when she was still a cherub. It had seemed that Mrs Park was prone to falling asleep at the most odd times of day, whether it be during dinner or cleaning the home.

Perhaps it was the heartache she was suffering from. The love that she had held for her husband was a permanent fixture, a vow that she had promised not to break, and one she had not and never would for as long as she lived. However, the increasingly distant behaviour from her husband in light of his burgeoning role as CEO had her heart yearning for him. Being a mother was difficult and of course, so was Seonghwa’s job. Yet, he also had duties as husband and a father, which he seemed eager to abandon altogether.

“Why can’t you try to understand how difficult it is for me to do all of this? So much pressure at work, then I come to you going on about some stupid dinner with your parents!” He shouted, she flinched at the dissonance of his noxious tone reverberating off the walls of the small study- biting down at her lip.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”

“Sorry, my arse. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fucking nagging in my ear all the time, would you?” He barked, as she sped out of the room. It had been three weeks since she had, politely and quietly, asked her husband if he was free to attend her mother’s dinner party. He refused, erratically, and despite having apologised with saccharine kisses and diligent promises, he didn’t turn up to dinner in the end.

“Oh he’s busy Mum. He’s seeing to some of the lab work, you know how stressful it was for me.” Her father complained light-heartedly, raising how unfair it was of him to neglect his family.

“Do you want to me have a chat with him? I can give him a good word.” Hastily, she steered her father away from that direction. The last thing she needed was Seonghwa to turn around and blame her for the earache her father would give.

With a relentless sigh, she sat up reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. His eyes flickered at her movements, lips moving up and down to form the shape of the words as he silently committed them to memory, forming judicious links between the knowledge and application.

“Seonghwa.” She called out for him, he hummed in return, barely reeling his eyes off the page. Please look at me. “I was thinking about going back to work again. I contacted my manager about restarting and at the moment I would only need to go in for about two days or so.” Shutting his book close, he finally met her stare, deep in contemplative thought.

“Do you think you can work and take care of Dami at the same time?” He questioned. She had thought about this several times before she dialled in her manager’s number. As much as she had inherited her father's kind-hearted nature, stunning beauty, and soft-spoken voice in the end it was the passivity she had drawn from her mother naturally rendering herself subservient to prioritise ones needs over her own. Essentially, if she had told Dami to keep her lips on a tight seal and remain of the sofa the whole day: she would.

“I’m sure I can as long as she's in sight. She'll be in nursery from September, so I'll be able to start work.” He fell a little quiet, turning to drop his book onto the night stand.

“Ok, if that’s what you want. If you need me to come home earlier, I mean I can’t at the moment, but in a few weeks time if you need me to-then I will.” Nodding, she sent him a grateful smile before sliding back under the covers to turn her night light off.

Her heels clicked, exasperatedly, on the porcelain white floor dashing straight through the double doors; her heart pounded furiously against her chest, a violent ache gnawing at her arteries. With her body almost barging into a number of figures, her anxious apologies echoed into the swamped corridors, in which her colleagues shook their tired heads in annoyance. Finally, reaching the top floor she scuttled out of the elevator catching the eyes of Mrs Lee.

"Lab coat, darling, lab coat." Squealing, she unbuttoned the off-white coat, scowling at the permanent pen marks and splashes of iodine before handing it to Mr Kim's assistant. Mrs Lee, threw the coat onto her seat, gesticulating for the young scientist to follow her. After a short knock, the heavy glass door was pushed open; several pairs of eyes darting their way.

"Ah, Miss Cheong! How nice of you to join us!" Hongjoong exclaimed, a teasing glint in his eyes that wanted to make her wipe the smirk of his lips.

"My apologies, Mr Kim, we ran into a problem down at the lab." She explained, a blush forging on her cheeks as a grave set of eyes burned into her skin.

"No worries. This is Miss Cheong, she will be our project lead on the next Kim-Park program." The Kim-Park program was founded by Kim Hongjoong of Kim Pharma and Park Seonghwa of Park Pharmaceuticals. With both companies leading the pharmaceutical industry, both founders decided in order to produce a greater economic boom, and serve an excellent supply chain of mandatory medicine; both of their greatest minds could work together to create poignant breakthroughs in the scientific sector. After all, the two companies had the countries top scientists working for them but together they could very well improve the nature of modern medicine. Hence, today both CEO’s came together for a kick off meeting establishing the blueprint for their next, biggest projects.

"'No worries?'" A derisive voice arose from across the room, where she snapped her head to find a man with wide eyes and thin-rimmed square glasses that sat at the bridge of his long nose, staring back at her. His long, slicked back hair that fell past his ears as he, mockingly, cocked his head to the side in amusement. "I didn't know Kim Pharma tolerated tardiness, Mr Kim." Returning his stare back to Hongjoong, he raised an eyebrow anticipating his answer.

“What was the problem down at the lab?”

“House fire." She retorted, "And I had to assign interns some lab work. Kim Pharma doesn't tolerate tardiness Mr Park but your project manager doesn't seem to be here? We'd have valued him being present at the kick off meeting." His face heated red in embarrassment as he gritted his teeth.

Park Seonghwa was insufferable.

The worst thing about him wasn't even that he was pedantic and scrutinised her work with a keen eye, or that his sharp attention-to-detail left her wanting to force him to chug a beaker of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It was that under his strictly co-ordinated demeanour, he was a beautiful man blessed with an angel's aura. It was that he was tall and that his voice could hypnotise her; send her lunging over a precipice into the expanse of uncharted oceans. At times his allure had her wanting to excuse her pathetic hatred. They bickered at every meeting, every email was sent with 'Regards' rather than 'Kind Regards'. It wasn't long before the bickering had transgressed to shouting in the boardroom as he began to question her teachings, snickering at every intellectual point she made as if she had not graduated from university with the same degree as himself.

"You forgot to add that cisplatin is a cis isomer." He stated, as she sat across from her in his office. This time, she didn't bother to retain herself from rolling her eyes. "A problem, Miss Cheong?"

"Who's reading this report, Mr Park? A high school student or the manufacturer? Any man with common sense and college level chemistry knows that cisplatin is a cis isomer. Do you want me to also write down that it has a square planar shape with a bond angle of 90 degrees?" She snapped, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted look. He smirked taking off his glasses, cleaning the lens with the hem of his blazer sleeve. Dear god. Sedate me.

"No, but you do need to explain how cisplatin works in detail. It only works as cis isomer, not trans. You didn't specify that."

"You're incredibly pedantic." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly defined nose, the smirk remained fixed on his lips. "I'm not surprised people are handing in resignations, at your company, every week."

"They can leave if they wish, lazy people don't contribute to Park Pharmaceuticals' success." Oh and he was cocky too. As well as being a pretty face full of wits, Park Seonghwa was also wrought with egotism that made her want to wrangle his gorgeous, slender neck. "Have you ever considered joining our company?" A snicker escaped from her lips which eventually transcended into a laughter that wholly baffled him.

"I'm afraid I'd be a part of that sorry statist-,"

"I'm sorry for being an arsehole, Miss Cheong. Can I make it up to you?" And when she questioned him how he would make it up to her, he proposed the idea of a date. All he wanted was her, regardless of her much she was everything he was not. “Go on a date with me, please.” He blurted, with her feet rooted to the ground and lips falling into a thin line his heart palpitated within his chest. He sought the way her hair fell over her shoulders in light waves having ripped it from its knot after she walked out of the lab. Her pink lips were practically begging to be touched by his, he wanted to soothe the symphony of weary sighs that dispersed from her, and the headache that wracked her brain from his abstruse behaviour. Above all, he was falling in love with Miss Cheong because he despised her in such a paradoxical way. He hated the way she was smarter than him and beautiful in the way that she must have been carved from the clouds of heaven.

It often made her giggle at Hongjoong's astonishment when she handed him the wedding invitation. His excitement when he ripped open the seal to read Seonghwa's name as the groom, dropped the smile from his face as he looked at his college friend.

"You're marrying the enemy?" She shook her head at him, almost scolding him for deeming Seonghwa the 'enemy'. "This isn't what I meant when I said 'Fuck Park Seonghwa." Lobbing the pillow at his head, he dramatically sunk into his sofa as their childlike laughter eructed into the blithe atmosphere.

It had felt like a distant dream now, to be loved and adored in the ways that he once did. To be held as if every touch was their last, to be kissed as if their lips would never meet again and they were lovers in the midst of an age-old war that would tear their nimble hearts apart. To have her husband again and not a dispassionate demon who tore past the gates of hell and inflict all the condemned’s curses on her.

Giving you my all, giving you my everything. Laying my life down at your feet, stripping myself of my own honour just to feel something by you. A glance, a breath, a sigh. You tell me to leave- I don’t mean anything to you anymore.

"Hwa, you could have at least told me you weren't going to go in the first place. Then I wouldn't have gone to the company party." Sat at the foot of the bed, he pulled the jumper over his torso, pulling his trapped hair out from the neck hole. He bit his tongue as his wife rebuked him for his absence, once again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be the only one sat without her husband there?"

"I told you I was going to run late."

"You were four hours late, and you're a half an hour drive to the office! Why didn't you say no, in the first place?" Tearing the earring out from her lobe, she sunk into the chair trying her hardest to not slip into tears; the sympathetic stares of hundreds etched into her memory. How stupid did she look for being dressed so ostentatiously, when the real jewel was not even in her possession? The clatter of pearls emptied into the drawers, hands buried into palm of her hands closing her eyes to relive the myriad of dejection. They never said marriage was this painful. Hard, yes. But not painful. "Hwa, do you love me?" She inquired, turning around in her seat.

"What?"

"It's as simple as you think. Do. You. Love. Me?" Her voice wavered as she asked him, the distant stare in his eyes revealed answers to the questions that she did not want answered.

“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. Or given you a beautiful daughter. I miss one, silly, company event and you start throwing a tantrum.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve completely abandoned me!” Her shout restituted off the thin light blue walls, jumping from her seat at his petty arguments. “You are such a terrible husband and you make me feel trapped in this marriage!”

“And you fucking suffocate me! You suffocate me!” He roared across the room, his strident tone penetrating through her, grazing down the surface of her heart. Rupturing the weak seams that held it together. Stumbling backwards, her palms gripped onto the mahogany table; shaking, biting down her lip to prevent a sob from escaping. "The only time I felt like I could ever breathe, in this marriage, was when I was not with you. When I was at work, or with the others, or just anywhere else. But never with you." Dipping her head, away from him, she shut her eyes as tight as she could.

"Please stop." she whispered, a plead so quiet it almost went unspoken. Yet Seonghwa heard it anyway because no matter how angry he was, their souls were still intertwined. Their hearts beat as one, they were uniform, one whole being. Slowly, he treaded towards her, mimicking the dip of head.

"Why? Can't you take the truth?" he mocked. Full tears pooled in her eyes, her chest burning from holding in her breath. "I should divorce you." He proclaimed, without a stutter. That was enough to break her. An obnoxious wail infiltrated into the void of the room. Was that what he wanted? To provoke some sort of emotion from her to satisfy his ego? He scoffed, before darting from the room-slamming the door shut behind him. Wrought with tears she trudged to her bed, slipping under the covers; sobbing herself unconscious.

"Mummm. Ammiii. Ammaaa." A small voice whispered, the softness soothing the persisting ache in her chest. Holding back the smile ready to break through, she fixed her eyes shut waiting to see what her daughter would do next.

"Dami, let your mother sleep. Come on." The urge to smile had dropped instantaneously, the familiar sense of forlorn gushing into her again; his sweet, addictive voice puncturing holes into her heart.

"I'm hungry." She could hear the pout on her daughter's lips. Huffing, she groaned loudly snapping at her daughters attention, who jumped up and down in excitement of her mother awaking. Reaching out for her child, she picked her up settling her down on her laps. "Mama, I'm hungry." She squeaked.

"Have you washed up yet?" She shook her head. "Ok, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll help you."

"I'll help her wash up." Seonghwa offered. Refusing to look at him, she simply gave him a curt nod, the sight of his face wanting to make her erupt into a fit of sobs.

"I promise I'll never make you cry." He had promised, before their marriage. They sat under the stars, the cool wind brushing at their cheeks. Astronomy books sat scattered around her as she attempted to map out constellations in the beaming night.

"And if you do?" She challenged, playfully smirking. With a cute frown he gave her a nudge.

"I promise I won't but in the 0.00001 percent chance that I do, then you should leave me. You’re worth more than the moon to me, and to hurt you is the deadliest sin I can commit." He immediately leaned forward to swoop her into a deep kiss- both of them smiling as they did. The memory of his now-broken promise brought tears to her eyes again. Tightly pressing her palm to her mouth, to hold back her cries, she sucked in yet another breath. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Gripping onto the bathroom sink until her knuckles bled white, her knees hit the floor. Nicking the handle of the tap- tears freely flowed down her cheeks as the water rushed through the basin at rapid speed. I want my baby back.

Feeling the heavy burden of a collapsing marriage, her shoulders sunk as she chopped at the onions, preparing their dinner. Dami sat on the stool by the kitchen island, with her mini crayons scribbling over the pictures in the colouring book.

“Mama, why did Appa sleep in my room yesterday?” Scraping the onions into the pan, she grabbed the wooden spoon to stir it.

“He was missing his little princess. He wasn’t causing you trouble, was he?” She teased, sending her a forced smile. God, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay happy. To smile was to pain her cheeks, they felt more contented relaxed than to uplift and radiate an aura of joy that didn’t seem to exist within her anymore.

“He’s so big, I fell off bed.” She snorted, laughing at her child’s proclamation. It was not long before a thought occurred to her that whenever they slept in the same bed- it was always her that took up the most room-rather than him. A fond memory occurred to her, specifically a night where her body was plastered to his.

“Ah, jagi, can you move a little? I’m up against the window?” Her body shuffled slightly to the left, giving him room to breathe a little bit more. “Thank god.” He huffed out a sigh of relief, her lips fell into a pout- as she rolled further away from him towards the edge of the bed. If space was what he wanted, then she was going to give it to him. Seonghwa’s arm outstretched for her, the cold air battering his skin was no comfort, he wanted her again. A tantalising laugher infiltrated the air, he shuffled closer to her pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Never mind I need my cuddly bunny.” He sang, nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Now, she couldn’t remember the last time he had held her so close to himself. If anything, he needed the space now and rested just less than a metre apart from her each night.

“It was nice! Appa is a teddy bear.”

“Am I, my princess?” Turning away from the doorway, she opened the cupboard to reach for the spices, shielding her melancholic face away from him. The sweet dissonance of giggling entered her ears, if he had no love to spare for her at least he had enough to spare for his daughter. “Ahem, I’m going on a business dinner tonight.”

“Ok.” Seonghwa watched her, resting his hand on the top of his daughter’s head who went straight back to colouring in the flowers in her book-switching to a pink crayon at that. “What time will you be home?” He shrugged, then quickly noticed that with her back to him she wouldn’t see.

“I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” How could he say that knowing that there wasn’t a night in their marriage where she didn’t sit patiently on the sofa, waiting for him to come back home. Even on the days where he warned her he’d be back a lot later than usual. Regardless, she’d stay plastered to the sofa switching from the tv, to her phone, to a random book-eyes continuously flickering to clock- skipping to the kitchen to shove snacks into her mouth, as she’d never eat without him.

The urge to erupt into a fit of sobs inclined, chewing on her lip violently provided her with enough solace to finish making dinner, feed her daughter and put her to bed. Then at last, when she closed the curtains to her bedroom, a hushed cry escaped her; spending the rest of her night as she did prior, wailing and wailing until fatigue had lulled her weary heart to sleep. The creak of the door went unnoticed to her, Seonghwa crept in; her sleeping figure rested in the bed, the comforter dragged over her head. He sighed, contemplating whether to slip beside her or retreat back to Dami’s room for the night.

This sequence continued for the next few weeks, every night she would cry herself to sleep and Seonghwa would sleep in Dami’s bed. It wasn’t even their room at this point, it was hers with Seonghwa’s things in it-just like her flat pre-marriage. Her room with Seonghwa’s books, few pieces of clothes and odd bits of trinkets. One morning she woke up to find a stack of papers on her nightstand. Fear coursed through her blood, were these the divorce papers that he had suggested to her? Rifling through the papers, her heart soothed as soon as she realised they were just Dami’s crayon drawings. Stick figures of Appa, Amma, and little Dami in the middle. Drawings of flowers, then one just of Amma and Appa, a big heart between them. If only that were true. If only his heart still beat for her the same way hers beat for him.

She heard his voice trail out of the study, as she almost raised her hands to knock and summon him downstairs for lunch. The rapid muttering halted her movements, instead she tentatively pressed her ears against the door to assess the situation.

“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon…She’s pissing me off right now. I’m trying to get the papers set at the moment…I don’t know about a few more weeks?” Slapping her hand to her mouth, she squeezed her lips shut to prevent any pained sounds from releasing. Honey? There was another woman? And the papers? Was he really, truly, trying to divorce her? Rushing to the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, flipping the tap back open to relive the same endless cycle.

“I’m going on a work trip to Japan, for a week. We have an important business meeting. I might need you take care of Dami by yourself.” His head snapped from up Dami’s unfinished Lego project. She’d fallen asleep when playing, so her father took it upon herself to finish building the set.

“You should have asked me beforehand. You can’t just accept to go offshore, and then give me a week’s notice.” He scolded, playing with the pink block between his fingers.

“I only got told today. I tried to call you whilst I was still in office, but I couldn’t get through to you.” Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment. It appeared that Mrs Park was also refraining important matters from her husband; making decisions of her own that they promised they’d always make together. An uncomfortable silence remained suspended in the tense air, shifting uncomfortably in her spot as she awaited for him to say something else. Even if it was to belittle her, she urged to hear the sound of his voice.

“If you cared enough about me, you’d know I’m busy too.” Chewing down on her lip, she held back a painful sigh. There it is. “We’ll be with my parents for a week while you’re gone. When’s your flight?”

“Sunday night.” Nodding, he scooped up the remaining pieces on the floor pouring them back into the packet before getting up himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

The work trip to Japan was just as tranquil as she anticipated, the host company was as hospitable as they could be. The days were cut short, the air silent subsiding one into deep thought, even if they denied themselves the pleasures of having to think. With her knees tucked up to her chest, she stared out onto the vast market of skyscrapers, the teeming arena beneath contributing the noises that fell deaf at her ears. She needed to leave the home, its confining airs strangling the lumen of her windpipe. She didn't exactly know what to do now that it was confirmed: Seonghwa did not love her. The declaration was enough to send her into delirium, enough to have her jolting up at night; drowning in cold sweats, preaching his name like a mantra. The flight home did not come soon enough, she boarded the plane with such eagerness and drenched even further in pain when she was assigned the seat next to her colleague and her husband.

Nervously, she dialled in his number once more hurriedly, tapping her feet against the cobbled footpath; her free hand latched onto the sweaty handle of the suitcase. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Being met by the voicemail service was disheartening, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew harsh against her skin sending a ripple of goosebumps over her.

"Mrs Park, is your taxi late?" Whipping her head around to find her colleague, she shook her head in dismay. "Do you need a lift? We don't live too far from each other."

Pushing through the large wooden gates of his childhood home, she adjusted the straps of her back pack lifting her head to find the blaring of orange lights through the slits between the window blinds. A small bustle of activity could be heard from the other end, tentatively, her fingers rose to provoke the silver door knocker.

"I'll get the door!" His voice floated through the surface, reaching out to caress the aches on her skin bruised wholly by him. As soon as their eyes met across the doorway, the smile was wiped clean from his lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry, it had completely slipped my mind-,”

“You don’t forget things, Hwa. The truth is: it didn’t slip from your mind, you just didn’t care.” You haven’t cared about me for a very long time. You haven’t loved me in a long time. I am no longer your wife but just Dami’s mother, to you. Though some sort of vile emotion named fear had prevented her from saying those words, becoming lodged at the crux of her throat, floating on the tip of her tongue.

The worst thing was, he didn’t say anything. He was silent, unwilling to reckon against her and fight for their marriage again. When did he become so passive? Up until now, when was there a day in their relationship when he didn’t fight to keep her at his side? Trudging into the household, the warmth lacerated her skin, taking off her shoes as the pattering of small feet came her way. A small body engulfed her larger frame, the delightful giggles of her daughter infiltrated her ears as her mother finally came home to her.

"We ate sooo much food. We had tteokbokki, dakgalbi, ramen. Halmeoni tried to make me eat yaksik but it was nasty." Letting out a tired moan she fell onto the floorboard, Dami crawling on top of her, as her mother-in-law stuffed her with enough food to last her a century.

"Ugh, Dami. Please get off Amma, my tummy is going to explode."

"Halmeoni! Amma ate too much!"

"Your Amma didn't eat enough!" Eomeonim shouted back from the kitchen. Seonghwa ambled into the room settling a cup of green tea in front of her, whilst simultaneously lifting Dami from her stomach. There was an uncomfortable silence amongst them as their daughter, oblivious to the obvious tension between her parents, entertained them nevertheless by dancing around the room and singing. He left the room in between to see to his mother in the kitchen. Feeling terrible for leaving her to tend to the mound of dishes, she carried behind walking straight into the enemy's territory.

“Are you stupid, boy? How could you even suggest a divorce?” She hissed. “It was only yesterday when you came running to me, with your eyes so full of love. Where is that love now?”

“People change.” He deadpanned, hot tears fulfilled her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed back to the front room.

“We’re going, now!” She ordered, a pout on her daughter’s face grazed the surface of her heart. She couldn’t stand here, and hear her husband declare that he didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t watch the love of her life slip from the tips of her fingers, whilst she sunk beneath the earth under her feet. She grabbed his car keys, from his jacket. “We’re going home, eomeonim. I need to go into the office, tomorrow. Thank you so much for taking care of Dami.” Kissing the top of her mother’s head, she slipped on her shoes before carrying Dami out of the home. Seonghwa followed hot on her heels.

“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”

“Home, Hwa.” The lock clicked out of the place, she jerked open the car door to fasten her daughter into the seat ignoring her cries and pleads to stay at her grandmother’s. “Dami! Quiet!” She roared, the same way Seonghwa would shout at her for nights on end for doing nothing other than being his wife.

“Stop acting like a child and come back inside right now!” He commanded.

“I won’t, Hwa. Because the next time I go back in and let myself be hurt by you, I’ll have no one to blame but me.” He fell quiet, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “I am the still the girl who would wait nights for her husband to come home to her. But you are no longer the boy that would walk straight into her arms.” Choking on her sobs, she jerked open the car door to slip inside, her daughter calling out for her father. After all, they were the same woman. Both so utterly in love with the same man that could not love them both in the ways one could dream of being in love. For being in love with him was asking for annihilation, his devotion unreachable like the stars studded in the midnight sky. Was he not made from the stars? An angel borne from light, whose banner was a celestial plane that would diminish the human essence in a heartbeat? Steering the car out of his driveway, Seonghwa stood plastered to the floor a single tear dropping from his eye as he felt his soul meander away from him.

That night, when they reached home, Dami was tight in her arms after having cried the whole journey home from missing her father. Eventually, exhaustion overpowered her and she reluctantly slept in her mother’s arms. She was so sure now that her daughter thought she was the villain for ripping her away from her father. Nuzzling her small face deeper into her mother’s neck, she felt her bottom lip tremble as she called out for her father.

There was no need to frantically run to the post box every time a letter slipped through, meeting the ground with a loud thud. Though, she did it anyway, with little Dami scuttling behind her as if she was expecting a letter herself though deep down Mrs Park knew that she wanted her Appa to come home. It had been a month having not heard back from him. No messages or calls. After work, she ventured over to his office only to be turned away by his assistant; catching a quick glance at his shadow through his window.

“I have to make an appointment to see my own husband?” She uttered through gritted teeth, though the woman in front merely nodded, disinterestedly. “When is Mr Park next available?” The jarring clatter against the keyboard gnawed at her ear drums, annoyance fulfilling her.

Fuck this. Rushing to the handle of his door, she keeled it open storming inside-the loud slam of the door jumping him up from where he sat in his seat. The assistant rushed behind, squawking about how she had to leave.

“Cilla, it’s ok. Go do your job.” He ordered, softly with his eyes fixated on his wife. She didn’t expect him to look this way, the clean, composed Seonghwa now with tousled hair and small dark circles under his eyes. Eyes bloodshot red as if he had been crying for weeks on end, exhaustion piling in them. His sunken face as if he had not eaten for weeks-Seonghwa, not eating? The same man who used to kiss her hands and go for seconds, claiming there must have been some magic in them for she made such delicious food?

“Dami is getting upset. She misses her Dad. The least you could is come home and see her, so she doesn’t think that her father abandoned her too.”

“I’ve been busy-,”

“You’ll always be busy, Hw-Seonghwa. But not busy enough that you can’t spare an hour or two to see your daughter.” She spat, storming straight out of his office, sending the assistant a dirty look on her way to the elevator.

“Appa!” Dami’s animated tone weighed down her father’s heart, his arms wide open as she jumped into them. Fixing her spot by the kitchen doorway she watched as her husband played with her daughter. After a few hours, when they had put Dami to sleep, they sat with each other in the front room Seonghwa pulling out an envelope from his work satchel.

“The-uh- papers. Divorce papers.” A pang struck through her, hands shaking as she reached out for them.

“As her mother, I’ll have custody over her. You should be allowed to see her every week, so maybe the weekend?” Her voice quivered, slightly as she opened up the seal of the envelope, its woody scent wafting up her nose. With little energy, to pull out the form- she settled it onto the coffee table. “We’ll move to my mother’s house…” She trailed off biting down on her lip as Seonghwa closed his eyes shut.

“That’s fine. You can just post it to the lawyer. I’d like to see Dami at my office next week, could you do that?” Nodding diligently, she owed him that much. He’d be counting down the days soon until he’d rarely see his daughter. How would they tell her Amma and Appa weren’t as happy as they were in the drawings?

Her eyes scoured over the woman sat in front of him, as she opened the door to his office. God, she was beautiful with her long, black, silky hair, siren eyes, her chic office look. Everything she was not, though she had managed to pick herself up and put a lot more effort than she usually did with her fitted suit, hair tied back into a sleek bun-held up by the closest pen she could find on her dressing table since her silver claw clip was nowhere in sight. Was she the woman he was going to leave her for? She couldn’t even blame him at this point, why keep something expired when you could throw it away and have something new? Gripping onto the straps of her handbag, she slowly let go of her daughter’s hand who ran to her father’s side.

“Gaeun, this is my wife Mrs Park.” Timidly, she shook her hand. Gaeun saw Mrs Park as an intimidating woman, with her silent face as she ambled into the room with her daughter, her neat hair, pointed heels and tailored skirt that accentuated her curves. She matched Mr Park’s daunting presence perfectly, and of course her intelligence was known to all as well as her insistence to remain at his rivals’ company. “Dear, this is Gaeun- she’s one of the project leads on the next Kim-Park collaboration.”

“I see.” Her head picked up, giving both parties a short nod before leaving the office. She reckoned there was enough to time to make it to her own company and break down in the toilets before beginning the work day.

The rain thundered down from the sky on a solemn afternoon, the clatter of dishes being returned to the cupboards entailing the home; followed the thundering knock at the door. Peeking into the peep hole, she swung the door open, she pulled her husband in immediately rushing around him as he jerked off his shoes.

“Into the shower now.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his clothes from her bedroom before soundlessly making his way into the shower. She only assumed he had come to their home for the signed papers, it had been a while since he’d given them to her; though all she could think about was the way her pen could not even touch the sheet. The door to the study creaked open, as she bit her lip with the unsigned line glaring back at her.

“I haven’t- I haven’t signed the paper, yet.” His breath hitched in his throat, inching closer and closer to her. With the tickle in her throat pervasive, the pen neared the line her heart shattering with every second that her hands rebuked the damned sheet in front. How did she even do her signature?

“I’m sorry that you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you married me. I’m sorry that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the perfect wife for you.” She blurted, the pen falling from her fingers onto the table. He called out her name, drawing forward arms outstretched to encircle her into him. To hold her as tight and as true as she deserved. To fulfil her of kisses that he had deprived her of, to ease her of her pain. Though she stopped him in his tracks, with a palm to censor his movements. “No, Hwa. I haven’t been enough for you for a very long time. I must have done something wrong for you to hurt me like this. I must have done something much worse than what you’ve done to me. I just wished you spoke to me than gave me this stupid sheet and trying to end us in a single heartbeat.” An agonising wail left her lips, as she dropped to the floor tucking up her knees to her chest. Her lungs burned, desperate for air running her fingers through her hair as she slowly breathed out to ease the throbbing sensation loitering at her temples. He sunk to the floor with her, engulfing her frame within his. His jumper so soft, drenched in the scent that she adored. The same scent that he wore when they first met. Her bottom lip quivered again.

“You did nothing, it was all me. I forgot who I was, I forgot it was you who gave me life.” Her tears stained his shirt, he held her closer to his body. “I came to here to change your mind. I didn’t want you to sign those papers. I was so scared you had.” Their bodies rocked back and forth as the painful sound of her sobbing gradually declined.

“I couldn’t do it.” She whispered, her throat sore from this prolonging nightmare. Kissing away her tears, his fingers gently tilted up her head so he could bore his eyes in her beautiful ones. “I just need to know if there’s another woman. If there is, and you love her the same way you loved me, you can have her.”

“There was never another woman. It was always you I swear.” He pledged, as his own tears rushed down his face tickling his jawline before pattering carefully on his sweater. “I was just a poor excuse of a man, a poor excuse of a husband. I admit that I felt like you’d never leave me, but when I realised you really could it hurt me so much.” Drawing lines over his sweatshirt she listened to the sweet sound of his voice whisper into her ears.

“I’ll be a better man. I’ll work on me, and you can just keep on being a great wife and mother.” Their lips met in a frenzy of emotions, their palpitating hearts enamouring their befallen entities as passionate kisses filled the wounds that penetrated through them. His hands snaked around her waist, as hers ran through his long hair emitting a husky groan out of him. “Do you think Dami would like a sibling?” He joked, before being met by whack to the back of his head, they deepened the kiss before she happily rested her head against his chest.

“Maybe, but not now. Right now, you need to come home to us.”

“It’s just you and me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you baby.”

•••

All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

cheong meaning 'quiet' 'eomeonim' means mother-in-law (husband's side) 'halmeoni' means grandma

A/N: i'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i'm going on some meds soon and i have no idea how shit i'm gonna feel while on them. wanted to update in case i have no energy to release something else for a while😖 Hope you guys liked this one! ✨✨

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tags: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 9 part 2

masterpost

That whole detour took a depressing amount of their allotted Dick-free time frame. Danny sulked about it a bit as Jason caught up to him and bumped his shoulder. Jason fished his phone out and clearly made a call to a restaurant, giving them an ETA and asking them for the meal Danny had asked for.

Well… Danny untensed a bit. He was willing to look at Jason again by the time that the phone call finished. 

“Wanna talk strategy?” Jason coaxed. 

Danny pursed his lips. “Is anything off limits?” he asked with a shrug. He spread his hands out. “I can fly, go intangible– most of my powers are more martial but those are really applicable.”

“I can’t do either of those things,” Jason said, “So unless-”

“I will just pick you up,” Danny cut him off. He flicked a glance up and down the other guy. “You weigh nothing to me.”

Jason seemed to experience a 404 error. Once he had rebooted he cleared his throat and his voice still came out a little peaky. “I think those things are fair, but we don’t wanna clear Dick totally, it won’t be any fun unless he thinks he has a shot at some points.” He cleared his throat again.

‘....Does he want me to pick him up?’ Danny looked Jason over as sneakily as he could manage. ‘He didn’t let me carry him up the stairs, but maybe that was different because we were play-fighting.’

He filed that very interesting question away for later and took a little mercy on his date. “What strengths does he have, what tactics is he gonna use?”

Jason whistled a long breath out from between his teeth and opened a door for Danny. “We should call Barbie and beg for her neutrality. He won’t go to tech immediately, but tracking us by cameras is always an option.”

Danny snorted and tossed his hair. “Not a problem,” he boasted. “I can short out any cameras in my vicinity.”

There was a moment of silence. “That sounds like it would make it really easy to spot our current location.”

Oh. Well. Heck.

“...Is this the restaurant?” Danny pushed open the door without waiting for an answer, bell jingling overhead.  

A sharp-eyed waiter in black and white saw them enter and indicated the back area with a gloved hand. “Thanks, France,” Jason said easily. He pulled out a seat for Danny without a thought.

Danny shared a moment of eye contact with France. Danny was intending to communicate, ‘Do you see this shit, France?’ France was a cypher. There was no hint of what he thought about this.

…Danny sat. “Thank you,” he said, a little confused by the gesture but pretty certain that this was the best response. 

Jason seated himself and gave him a distracted smile in lieu of a verbal reply. Shit. Fuck. He was hot. Danny flashed internal alarms at this. “Are you still interested in red wine, or would you like something else?” 

“Uhhh.” Danny decided not to say that he had no idea, he was basically copying the romantic date from The Lady and the Tramp. “I’d like to start with a water.” 

“Of course.” Jason glanced over at France, who inclined his head and left in a frankly shocking burst of speed. “I think that Dick will try to leverage the date against me, to embarrass me,” he said thoughtfully. He picked up a saltshaker and started toying with it absentmindedly. “He’ll think that I won’t want the other guys bothering us.”

Danny cocked his head. 

“I was thinking about cutting that out from underneath him, at the last second,” Jason explained. “Dick’ll probably have a couple contingencies around siblings.”

“Yeah, control the flow of information,” Danny agreed. “Do you think you can turn any of them against him?”

Jason pursed his lips. “Yes, but not predictably. It’ll depend who sides with who first. It’s not a fun game if they all play on the same team, so some of them will be willing to fuck him over.” He blinked and lifted his hands as France returned with a pitcher of lemon water and a plate of appetizers. 

It was a very serious war council, for all that it happened to be about the tactics Birds and Bats would use in a game of tag. Danny caught himself leaning forward, elbows braced on the table, to breathe in every word out of Jason’s mouth. 

“Don’t worry about the big guy though,” Danny faintly understood. He was glazing out a little bit, just watching Jason’s mouth move. There was a little bit of stubble that hadn’t been there at the start of their date a few hours ago. Danny wanted to touch it. “No way will they invite him to play, he hasn’t been fun for a decade.”

“Whatever you say,” Danny managed. Unbidden, one hand started to come up off the tabletop, reaching toward Jason’s jawline. Touchy touch touch.

“What- oh, we should take a photo for the group chat.” Jason pushed the food slightly out of the way and rested an elbow on the table to support himself as he leaned basically into Danny’s space. He used that hand to grab the hand Danny had been inching across the table and he gave it a squeeze.

He was. He was holding Danny’s hand again. Danny swallowed, hard. Was his pulse too fast? Could Jason feel that?

“Lean in a bit?” Jason was checking how they looked in his phone camera. 

Danny leaned forward agreeably, brain screaming static at him. He didn’t even bother to think about how he looked in the photo. It must have been fine because Jason made an approving noise and put the phone back down on the table. “I’ll send it to the group chat in about 20 minutes,” he said.

“Ngah,” Danny said intelligently. 

Luckily, the pasta came then.

[steviewashere]

Don't Dish What You Can't Serve

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Sexual Harassment (Not Between Main Pairing), Chewing Tobacco, Gross Shit Happens That I Can't Say Because It Spoils The PlotTags: Different First Meeting AU, No Upside Down AU, No Supernatural AU, Steve Never Became Friends With Tommy and Carol, Hurt/Comfort, Tommy Hagan Being an Asshole, Tommy Hagan is a Piece of Shit Here, Waiter Steve Harrington, Line Cook Eddie Munson, They Work at Benny's, So This is an AU Where Benny's Never Closed, Protective Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Gets Revenge, Steve is a College Student (But That's Not Entirely Important Here), '86 Was Eddie's Year

🥤——————🥤 Steve picks up a new job in the summer of 1986, waiting tables. The job at Family Video fell through and it just didn’t pay enough. He was starting his first year at the local college soon and he desperately needed the money. Especially since his parents cut him off, sighting his one gap year as enough reason. And so he goes to Benny’s, fills out an application and turns it in the same day. Back at his apartment, also the same day, he gets hired on. Alongside another guy around his age, one he recognizes from high school as Eddie Munson—who must’ve finally finished his time as a senior and now just needed to work.

Neither of them really talk to each other outside of putting orders in and taking orders out. Maybe occasionally scolding the other because—“You didn’t ask how rare he wanted his steak, Harrington? How the hell am I supposed to make it then?” and “Munson, you forgot the fucking ketchup on this asshole’s cheeseburger and now he won’t shut the fuck up about it. Fix this, please for the love of god.”

So, sure, they don’t get along all that well all the time. They’re not friends. More so just acquaintances. And so they don't really talk.

However, that changes one evening.

It’s a couple weeks before the upcoming school year is supposed to start. Hawkins, Indiana is one of those little college towns. Meaning, the new students were finally moving, coming around, getting to know where they now lived. And that includes one particular customer, Tommy Hagan, and his girlfriend, Carol Perkins. They’ve been coming in since mid-July, despite the new year starting in September, despite move-in dates set in late August. Every Sunday, Steve sees their pinched, smarmy, cocky faces. And every Sunday, they always cause some sort of issue.

The first time, Tommy spilled his soda all over the tiled restaurant floor. Claimed it was an accident, but Steve saw him. He saw the guy push his cup over the edge. Heard him snicker as Steve bent down to wipe it up, as he stood back up and plastered on a tight smile, promising that he’d get him a new soda right away. Flushed with shame as Tommy laughed and laughed and laughed his ass off about the, “Guy with the big stupid eyes and no thoughts in his head” and how he, “Probably doesn’t have much going for him if he’s working in a place like this.”

A riddle and game, that’s what it was. Steve would welcome them, take their orders, put them in for Eddie to make, drop the food off, and be at their service if something went wrong. Which was always. And he’d endure the stupid comments Tommy would make when he wasn’t in earshot. Spanning from how incompetent their waiter was—“He’s always screwing something up, swear to god. Don’t even know how he’s holding a job here, jeez.”—to how big of a manwhore he is because of how tight his work pants were. As if Steve would ever be catching tail in his stupid slacks, always stained with food and sticky soda by the end of the night, and the same pants that give him wedgies if he doesn’t make them sit right on his waist. All in all, Tommy is their worst customer. But it’s just a job, Steve always thought, it’ll get better at some point. Tommy will eventually start classes and leave me alone.

Then, of course, comes the Sunday a couple weeks before the new school year. Tommy is alone this time. No Carol on his arm. He just slides into one of the booths and watches Steve work until he approaches. And immediately, something is terribly off about this encounter.

“Welcome to Benny’s, can I get any drinks started for you?” Steve asks. His script. Customer service voice pitchy and monotone as it drips from his mouth.

Tommy doesn’t answer for several moments. Leaving Steve to stand and loom and stare. To smile and squirm. As he rakes his eyes so unnoticeably over all of Steve’s frame. His tongue trails along the inside of his lower lip, eyes heated, a gross smirk on his face. Smarmy.

“Bet you’d look good without that dumb frilly apron around your waist,” Tommy teases. It’s half-flirtatious, Steve thinks. But all the same creepy and…predatory.

“Excuse me?” He can only respond.

The asshole hums, assessing. Repeats himself. And adds, “You’d make better tips, too. Maybe put some gloss on your lips, a tighter shirt, no apron…yeah…vision’s coming together, baby. Could make everybody your bitch when you serve them.” He stares for a second longer. Rests his face in his left hand and flutters his eyes at Steve. “Can I get my usual, pretty boy? And one of those strawberry milkshakes.”

Steve writes the order down on his little notepad, shifting foot to foot. His stomach twists and knots. Brain still whirling at what Tommy said, unable to retort. Doesn’t even know how to really feel. Not flattered, that’s for sure. Slimy…that seems like a good enough substitute for the emotions mildewing in his chest.

“Y’know,” Tommy continues, voice sticky the way humidity is—uncomfortable—“I see how hard you work around here sometimes, even if you are pretty bad at it. Swear I can see the cogs just clogging up in your head. If you wanna give that pea brain of yours a moment to relax, you could share that drink with me. Maybe I’ll tip you real good this time, baby.”

He shifts again. Hands clammy and bile in the back of his throat. Steve swallows hard, thinks he stutters something out akin to, “I’ll be back with your order,” and promptly disappears into the kitchen.

The door swings closed behind him. And he’s not really looking, not paying attention. Just trying to get away from the residue left in Tommy’s air of existence. In the seconds between entering the kitchen and trying to storm away, he runs into somebody. An exerted grunt, raspy and deep, sounds out in front of him.

“Hey! Watch”—the person gently grabs him by the shoulders and leads them somewhere that he can’t really register. In a softer voice, no longer agitated, “Steve? Hey, man, y’alright?”

Steve sniffles. It’s then that he recognizes the heat in his cheeks, overwhelmingly hot and itchy. The scalding of tears. A pinch behind his eyes. There’s a soft cushion underneath him, the telltale creak of one of the older dining chairs. The air smells like garlic and grease, but a breeze catches over his exposed forearms—most likely from an air conditioning unit. He’s in the break room, he can finally notice. And break he does.

“That asshole is back,” he garbles, “and he”—hiccup—“he’s being really gross to me.”

The person crouches down in front of him, putting them eye-to-eye. And he knows immediately that it’s Eddie. Long hair pulled up into as neat of a bun as he can manage. A group of pitch black bats on pale skin. Dark brown eyes, shifting back and forth between his own with a mixture of concern and anger.

“What’d he say to you, Steve?”

He sniffs again, trying to gain some composure before he inevitably has a full-blown breakdown. Inevitable because he always has one when he goes home to his apartment, but it might happen here, and he can’t afford to let it happen here. Not today, at least, not now.

“Calling me…calling me baby and pretty boy. And he—he’s trying to make me share his stupid milkshake and he calls me stupid—that I have a…a fucking pea brain. Eddie, he calls me stupid every single time he comes in and I just—he’s just—I can’t”—

Eddie runs his warm hands up and down his biceps, gently pushing the fabric of his quarter sleeve, too. He shushes low and whispered. Murmurs, “I don’t want you to go back out there without me, alright?” His eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s wet ones once more. One of his hands leaves and digs into his back pocket, producing a black bandana. And he carefully brings it up close, patting it over Steve’s blotchy cheeks. “You don’t deserve that, Steve,” he whispers, “and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves. Just wait back here for a bit and I’ll get his order done.”

Steve nods slow and heavy. Wipes the heel of his palm roughly over his eyes—to which Eddie tuts at and firmly drags it away, replacing it with the worn, soft fabric of that bandana. “Sorry that I ran into you at the door,” he says quietly.

“I’m glad you did. Because I’m going to make sure that asshole never bothers you again. ‘M sick of hearing what he does to you every single time he comes in.” Eddie stands up, but leaves the bandana to dangle in Steve’s loose grip. A tentative stroke through Steve’s hair, something he usually wouldn’t allow, but it’s too nice to turn down. “We’ll put him up on the wall, too. That bastard can suck a fucking egg.”

He laughs at that, or at least something like a laugh. It’s brittle, airy, but genuine. And watches Eddie go.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, though, Eddie wanders back into the break room and drags them back towards the milkshake blender in the kitchen. He has the ingredients all laid out next to the machine: vanilla ice cream, a gallon of milk, some freshly chopped strawberries, the can of whipped cream, and the glass itself. Adds the milk and the ice cream, but then stops abruptly, turning to dig something out of his pocket.

“What’re you doing?” Steve quietly asks, worried to be overheard through the ticket window.

“Oh, just some good ol’ payback,” Eddie answers, something darker than mirth in his tone. What he produces from his pocket is a can of chewing tobacco. The nasty menthol kind, too. He shakes the little tin in his hand, the tobacco thunking against the lid of the container. And then he twists the cap off, plucks a quarter sized amount, and stuffs the wad between his bottom teeth and lower lip. Mouth literally bulging with the tobacco. “We’ll blend this shit first,” he whispers, scheming, “add the strawberries. Then, comes the grand finale.”

Steve side eyes Eddie. His deft fingers flittering over the buttons of the blender, scooping out the strawberries with the same hand he picked up tobacco with. He grimaces, but doesn’t comment on that. “Grand finale?”

“One of the biggest fears that customers have when they go into any restaurant is that the waiter is going to spit in their food,” he nonchalantly explains, capping the blender, “though, a lot of them don’t consider the line cook. Or at least, the rude ones don’t.” Eddie shifts something in his mouth, what sounds like the slosh of thick saliva. “He’ll probably complain, but it’s not like he’ll be believed. It’s a safety hazard, sure. But nobody suspects the cook because they’re supposed to know that shit. A cook spitting in a patron’s food? No way, man. That shit’s taboo.”

“And if he is believed?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “Then I get fired. But it’s whatever. I’m already on my way out anyway, got enough money for what I need.” 

Before Steve can ask or get in response, Eddie’s blasting the blender. It chugs and churns the half cup of milk and the measly two scoops of ice cream. The strawberries burst and bleed juice throughout, mixture turning pink. And with a few shakes, a half-way pit stop to unclog the bigger chunks, and a go-about with the partially dysfunctional blades—Eddie chucks the lid off, unlocks the pitcher from the machine, and turns away from Steve.

“I’m gonna have the good graces to not make you watch this shit,” Eddie gives as an explanation, “y’may wanna cover your ears.” Steve doesn’t, though wishes he did. With a cough and a semi-gag, Eddie inhales and burbles the saliva in the back of his mouth. He can hear the way the tobacco spit dribbles from between Eddie’s lips, the way it plops into the blended mixture, and the last little dredges left in his mouth. Steve’s stomach turns, but he doesn’t stop it. Doesn’t step in.

Eddie turns back around with the blender. Sitting on top of the pink mix is one quarter sized glob of tobacco and saliva, the spit already spilling down the sides of the pitcher. “Ta-da!” Eddie exclaims, shaking the pitcher back and forth. “And that is what I like to call the revenge special. Half cup milk, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, four chopped strawberries, and a fantastical exported ingredient from the land of your’s truly. It may be a seasonal item, but it’s got the gust of something that’ll last a lifetime.”

“God…that is disgusting,” Steve mock-whispers. “You’re a fucking genius.”

“Thank you, it’s one of my many tricks.” He sets the blender down onto the metal counter, a hard thunk that rattles the milkshake glass. “Now, do me a favor and pour that into the glass, get him one of those stupid striped straws, spray it up with some whip. And I’ll dish up his monstrosity of a cheeseburger.” Eddie’s eyes soften away from the mirth they previously had. His voice dropping low, too. “I’ll deliver it, too, by the way. I would never throw you under the bus for something gross like this. This should hopefully get him to stay away, though. If he does complain about you and you have to flee, I’ll help you find a new job.”

“I could just say I did it, y’know,” Steve tentatively says, “that I fucked up his drink. You don’t need to lose your job because of issues I’m having.”

“You were crying, Steve,” Eddie points out gently. “Nobody makes my waiters cry. And nobody gets away with it, either.” He slinks away from Steve without another word and without another word getting in. And Steve watches him for a long moment. As he busies himself around his workspace, tidied and organized the way he needs it. The flex of his muscles as he flips and cuts and assembles that cheeseburger. His baby hairs at the crown of his head getting stuck to his sweaty temples, hard work painting and furrowing his brows.

But when he’s caught staring, Eddie simply and softly smiles, gestures at the blender, and turns back to his plate. So, Steve does what he’s told. Assembles the nail to his coffin, one pour and spray and straw at a time. And walks out of the kitchen, behind Eddie’s flexing back, his grease stained and sweat drenched white t-shirt. He sits at the front counter, in one of the old, flaking barstools. Watches.

Tommy looks up at Eddie from his spot in the booth, eyes wide as he sees Eddie take a seat across from him. He grimaces and sours. “You aren’t that waiter. Who the fuck are”—

“Heard you like milkshakes,” Eddie drawls. “Thought maybe I could get your opinion on a new recipe I’m trying. It’s strawberry, don’t worry your preppy little chinos off. But there’s been a slight change, was wondering what you’d think about it.”

Across the table, Tommy gives Eddie an odd glance. “Is it that important that you watch me? Surely I could’ve just sent my compliments to you or whatever when I’m done.”

“Nah, I like getting it straight from the source. So, go ahead, take a sip. Tell me what you think.”

Steve has to physically draw himself back, has to swallow down the gag and bile working their way through him, and genuinely convulses back against the counter as Tommy takes his first, long, hard sip of the milkshake. His face doesn’t move much with the sip, but he does scowl a tad, grimacing with a slight twitch in his upper lip.

“Tastes sour,” Tommy comments.

Eddie hums. “But is it good? Sometimes sour’s a good thing.” He reaches across the table, then, and plucks up Tommy’s cheeseburger. Crosses one arm across his chest, hand resting on his opposite bicep, and brings the food up to his mouth, taking a hearty bite.

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, “that’s my cheeseburger, man! You can’t just”—

“Get a second sip and maybe I’ll consider remaking your food.” Eddie smugly watches Tommy take another deep swallow. His eyes cast at the glass, roaming at the little brown flecks in the shake. Knowing and proud. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I mean it’s…objectively, I guess it’s good. Can I get a new burger, man? I’m starving here and I’ve got a date with my girlfriend in thirty minutes.”

All at once, Steve’s heart enters his stomach. Eddie takes another large bite of the burger before replacing it on Tommy’s plate. He crosses his arms against the top of the table, fingers tucked securely in the creases of his elbows. Leans all the way across until he’s nearly nose to nose with Tommy.

“So, could you taste what was different? Could your pea brain discern the new flavor on your tongue?” He asks, smarmy as Tommy has ever been. Over-confident, yet satisfied.

Tommy’s eyes widen at his words being thrown back in his face, startles against the back of his booth. Fingers gripping to the edge of the table, cheeks going pale. “I…I don’t”—

“Spit.”

“Wh—What?”

“Spit,” Eddie repeats coldly. “You just drank my fucking tobacco spit.” Silence. And then, “How’d I taste, baby? Be honest. Was it everything you’d ever hope it would be with a man?”

More silence. Tense and thick, enough that it weighs on Steve’s shoulders across the way. However, Tommy finally registers what just happened. He gags hard, hand covering his curdled mouth. Behind it, muffled, he says, “You’re sick in the head. I’ll—I’ll fucking tell your boss. You’ll fucking regret this.” And he stands up on shaky legs, dashing away before he can vomit all over himself.

Eddie only watches him leave, satisfied and content. He looks back to Steve, grins. “I can’t wait to see his girlfriend’s face when she finds out he isn’t allowed back.”

Steve nervously giggles and crosses to the booth, sliding in where Tommy just was. “You’re insane,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it? Too bad he didn’t leave a tip. There is a cheeseburger if you want the rest of it. Promise I didn’t fuck with that.” Eddie’s eyes are on him, soft and thoughtful, watching him pick up the partially eaten burger. “I can make you a new one instead, if you’d prefer. Extra cheese, too.”

“Trying to get in all the cooking you can before this inevitably backfires?”

“Sure…or I’m trying to make sure you’re taken care of. One in the same, I suppose. So, provolone, right? Could even combine some of the cheese if you want. Pepper jack and havarti…colby jack and swiss. Take your pick.”

Steve glances up from the plate in front of him. Heart beating fast and chest gooey as Eddie looks onto him with something like reverence. “Provolone, please,” he requests quietly, “and can I get extra crunchy crinkle fries, too?”

Reaching out a hand, Eddie gently pats the back of Steve’s left. “You got it, baby”—he hisses—“I probably shouldn’t call you that. I’m so”—

“It’s alright,” Steve murmurs, “I…uh…I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, then stands from the other side of the bench. “You’re gonna give me a hero complex and an ego, Stevie.” He begins to retreat towards the kitchen, calling out about bringing the dishes back when he’s done, that the milkshake could just be tossed glass and all.

But Steve stops him with, “Hey, Eddie?” Is met again with those soft, dark brown eyes. “Thank you,” he quietly says, “I never thought I’d get him away from me. Means a lot that you helped.”

There’s a soft smile on Eddie’s face, one that Steve can’t help but return.

“Anything for you, man.”

He makes Eddie stop again, though. To gaze, to drink in that tight white t-shirt and the spatter of black ink on his arms, his heavy pretty curls, and that soft face of his. “When we finish closing up for the night, do you wanna come over to mine? I’ve got a rented copy of Empire Strikes Back and a few beers. Only if you”—

“I’d love to, Steve. Now let me make you your food, sweetheart. Before you gobble me up with that hungry stare of yours.”

🥤——————🥤

[theother-victoria]

been thinking of street racing with aventurine bc I imagine he’d like the thrill of it too…

tags: not proofread, I typed this out in tumblr drafts, some suggestive comments, flirting, gn reader, I don't know anything about street racing so pls forgive any inaccuracies, banter (they're so silly)

Aventurine, who pulls up to the race in an edgy and sleek sports car, drawing the attention of everyone else there- yours included.

You lean against the side of your car, watching him as he leaves opponent after opponent in the dust. He's skilled, you'll give him that. From the aggressive driving style and the make and model of the car, you're betting it's just some bored teenage boy with daddy's money to burn, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit curious about the person behind the wheel.

A few easy wins later that night and you're slated to race against him. He takes his sweet time pulling up to the finish line, but to your surprise, he rolls his window down for the first time that night and you're able to get a good look at him. He's no teenage boy but he has the same mischievous look that implies he's up to no good.

"Checking me out already?" he remarks, his (captivating) eyes twinkling in delight, although they're hidden behind his sunglasses. "And I thought I'd for sure be the one to make the first move."

Oh, so he's a flirt too. You can barely hear him over the loud purring of his expensive and modded car's engine and you know tonight's race will be a tight one.

"I see you've got money. What's a rich boy like you doing all the way out here?"

His grin widens.

"Ooh, you’re sharp. I like that and the way you talk.”

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

He laughs and shakes his head. He rolls up the window, much to your irritation, but not before saying one last thing and sending a wink your way.

"If you win, I'll tell you who I am. How does that sound?"

Damn. No other choice but to accept since the race is about to start.

You end up losing, but just barely. You had to push your car to its limits and he wasn't above playing dirty too, giving you a couple of close calls throughout. Although, he at least didn't endanger your life like some others have in the past, so you'll give him that.

After the race ends, you pull into a brightly-lit gas station with some people there. Shortly after, another car pulls up next to you and he steps out.

"Not bad, not bad," he says, clapping lightly. "It's not often that I find someone that can at least keep up with me, much less overtake me a couple times."

"So you were following me."

He raises his hands as a mock display of innocence.

"Hey, relax! Don't be so hostile! I just wanted to get to know you a bit better, that's all. Besides, you wanted to know who I am, right?"

You watch as he scribbles something onto a business card.

"Wasn't that only applicable if I won?"

"Eh, I've changed my mind now," he says, handing the card to you. "I don't make deals that don’t pay off and I'd consider it a loss if I didn't get at least your number tonight."

"You still didn't answer my original question. What's someone like you doing all the way out here? Surely you have more important matters to attend to, right?"

He laughs.

"Wow, you really don't know who I am, huh?"

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself. But to answer your question... I suppose it's because I enjoy the thrill of it. It's like gambling. Not knowing whether you'll win or lose, or even live or die. After all, the higher the stakes, the higher the excitement- why're you looking at me like that?"

"… You're insane."

"Sure, sure, sweetheart. I'll pretend that your reasons aren't the same as mine and that the adrenaline rush doesn't excite you every time. Why else would you willingly race, night after night?"

With one last wink, he gets into his car and drives away. You finally glance at the business card, only to do a double take and gape at it in shock when you realize its contents.

Aventurine, one of the IPC's Ten Stonehearts? No way... this guy's an IPC exec?

You don't know whether to feel proud about the fact that you got an IPC executive's number without trying or humiliated about the whole exchange...

There's a winking smiley face and an "call me xoxo" written next to the phone number.

And against your better judgement, you do just that.

He turns out to be an interesting companion. You'd think that with his demanding position, he'd be traveling all over the galaxy every day- which is true, to an extent, but he's always there for your weekly races and frequently drags you out shopping with him. He teaches you how to play poker and how to count your cards, if you didn't know how to already. He then tries to get you to play a round or two against him, which you promptly refuse each time.

("I spent all that time teaching you how to play and this is what I get in return? Boo, you're no fun. But a round or two never hurt anyone, right?"

"Aventurine, even a round or two is a surefire way to go into debt to you. Absolutely not."

He pouts and grumbles like a little kid every time.)

He also pays for additional mods to your car. When you try to refuse him, he merely brushes off your concerns.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you understand," he said back then. "I make more in a day than what it costs to mod your car. To me, this is nothing. Besides, I want an opponent who can keep up with me. If you start falling behind, well, then that's no fun for both of us, right?"

One night, there’s a particularly high-stakes race that you’re slated to compete in. The cash prize is one that’s too big for anyone to pass up.

Well, except for Aventurine. That amount of money is probably nothing by his standards.

For once, he’s not racing. When it’s your turn, he waves you over with a teasing smile as you’re getting ready.

“Say, how about raising the stakes for tonight?”

“What now?”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“… Fine.”

“If you win, we go on a date together. My treat, of course. If you lose, then you’ll have to play a round of poker with me.”

There isn’t an ounce of shame in his words. You openly gape at him as he beams at you proudly.

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why though?”

He shrugs.

“Simple. I know this is a bet that will pay off. And I’ve been wanting this to happen for a long time now. So…”

He leans in close, lips teasingly brushing over your ear for a moment.

“Don’t disappoint me. I want to see you try and turn the tides in your favor for this race.”

You pull away from him.

“I accept, but only because I am not going into debt because of poker.”

He laughs.

“Go on then, sweetheart. I want to see you leave everyone behind in the dust. Oh, and don’t forget your good luck kiss!”

Aventurine blows a kiss to you. You roll your eyes as you climb into your car. Insufferable, that’s what he is. But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s reading people. Meaning he must’ve noticed that you wanted this too.

You roll your neck and focus on the road ahead. The race is about to begin.

That cash prize and date with Aventurine is yours.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

ruin (6)*

warnings: fluff, smut, sex toy use, unprotected sex, oral

summary: in which harry takes yn on a nice picnic date and they go all the way

a/n: well guys, it’s been a longgggg time coming, but ruin is officially complete!!!🥳🥳🥳🥲🥲. i do have a couple ideas about some extras though, if you guys are interested in that. thank you so much for all of the love and support <3

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~one month later~

yn is just finishing up her makeup with the application of her favorite gloss, double checking for imperfections when her phone rings. she doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s harry alerting her of his arrival, ready for their date tonight. so she presses her screen to answer as she hurriedly grabs her purse.

“hello?” she picks up, trying to keep her voice level to sound as if she’s not literally running around her room right now. grabbing her desired scent for the day, she sprays the perfume in the ideal places and rests the phone between her shoulder and ear.

“hi, angel. ‘m outside whenever you’re ready, but there’s no need to rush,” he reassures her, a grin on his face at her failed attempt at feigning calm. he drums his fingers against the steering wheel with a chuckle as he hears her quiet but unmistakable sigh of relief.

“i’m on my way down now, actually, i won’t be long,” she replies, finally taking a moment to breathe. she hears him hum on the other end of the line before acknowledging her words, and they end the call quickly. yn takes her time, but not too much time, as she slips on her shoes and grabs a sweater to throw over her pretty summer dress, just in case the weather gets a bit chilly.

she takes one last glance at herself and checks her purse to double check she isn’t leaving anything before she’s heading out the door and to harry’s car, where he’s patiently waiting. when he sees her approaching his face lights up so bright it makes her heart melt, and he’s scrambling to get out of the car to greet her.

meeting her at the passenger side door, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans down to press a kiss to her lips but ultimately changes route to her cheek, remembering the story she once told him about kissing with her freshly glossed lips. her arms come up over his shoulders to wrap around his neck, and he’s caught by surprise when she presses her lips to his anyways.

harry can’t help but pull her closer and smile into the kiss, loving the way she simply doesn’t care about that sort of thing when it comes to him. they’re like that for just a few more moments, the both of them begrudgingly pulling away. they can’t resist one last sweet peck before harry’s stepping away and opening the car door for her, not even bothering to wipe the gloss away that’d transferred from her lips to his.

yn passes him a grateful smile and gets in the car, nodding to harry when she’s settled as a signal to close the door. he does so and jogs around to his side, hopping in and starting the car to begin the drive. turning out onto the main road, harry grabs his phone from the middle console and passes it to yn, briefly taking his eyes off the road seeing that she’s a bit confused.

“did you want to turn on some music while we drive? ‘s a bit of a ride there, don’t want y’to get bored of me,” he explains, hearing a small ‘ah’ of realization from his girl. she wastes no more time, unlocking his phone and opening his music app. a dimpled grin forms on harry’s face when he hears the unmistakable tune of ‘go your own way’ by fleetwood mac starting, the same song they listened to on the way to their first date at the diner.

she queues up a few more songs as the both of them hum along, and when she has what should be enough, she places the phone back where it’d been before harry picked it up. her hand naturally gravitates toward her lap to rest there, but the action is interrupted by harry’s warm hand, quickly intertwining their fingers before she can complete it.

a small smile forms on her face as she glances at him, watching him act as if he hasn’t done anything. she simply lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before letting their hands rest in her lap, humming along to the music as she looks out the car window.

the ride doesn’t seem as long as harry thought it would, and with all of the singing and conversation they have, before he knows it they’ve arrived at the park. he drives as slow as possible as they enter just so he can see yn’s reaction to the scenery, his heart melting as he watches the way her face lights up when she sees the pretty flowers that line the entrance of the park.

she swoons at all of the butterflies around, the ducks in a pond nearby, and all of it just confirms each and every thought he’s ever had of spending the rest of his life with her. harry continues driving until he can see the area he’d previously scouted out, parking the car near it. he hops out the car and runs around to her side, opening the door and squatting down next to her.

“i’m gonna go over and set up, angel, then i’ll be right back to get you, alright?” he questions, his eyes taking in every square inch of her face as if he’ll ever forget it. he takes her hand in his as she nods, bringing it to his lips briefly before standing up and heading to the trunk of the car.

he quickly grabs everything out that he needs; blankets, the food, a pillow for her to rest on if she’d like to, drinks, and the small bag that holds the toys he’s brought if she wants to use them. closing the trunk, he hauls everything over to the spot he’d chosen, maneuvering through the few trees until he sees the huge clearing of land, perfectly hidden for peak privacy. there’s a small pond just ahead with some ducks swimming around, and he knows yn would love to feed them when she sees them. harry quickly sets everything up how he wants it, making sure everything is perfect before he stands up to head back to his girl.

making his way through the trees once more, he has the brightest dimpled smile on his face the moment his car is in his line of sight. he can see yn sitting there and waiting patiently for his return, doing something on her phone. she looks up and gives him a bright smile when she sees him, harry opening the door so that she can hop out. he closes the door and she practically skips toward the trees she’d watched him go through, harry having to jog a bit to keep up.

when they make it through the maze of trees, he can’t help the way his smile gets brighter when he hears her gasp at the sight of the picnic. all of her favorite fruits, drinks, and her favorite sandwich from the diner they went to on their first date. all the little things that make her just melt for him, turning her into a puddle of gratitude and thankfulness right before his eyes.

he chuckles when he hears her squeal of excitement as she notices the ducks, pointing to them so that he can see them as well. they get onto the blanket after she gushes over them for a while, harry sitting down first so that yn can sit right across from him, and that she does, digging in as soon as she’s comfortable.

the two snack on fruits and split the sandwich as they talk for a long time, sharing stories from their pasts and their plans for the future. they don’t even realize that they subconsciously get closer and closer with time, until her legs are draped over his lap, harry’s hand running up and down her calf. well, he doesn’t, at least. he doesn’t pick up on the way that some of her sentences die off with each passing of his hand, or the way her breathing picks up whenever his hand goes higher.

not until his hand grazes her knee, finally, and she finally snaps, a quiet moan falling from her lips. harry stops right in the middle of his sentence, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “what was that, angel?” he questions, wanting to make sure she’s alright. “did i hurt you?” he pulls his hand away.

she’s quick to shake her head and reach for him again, and he thinks she’s going to place it back onto her knee but she actually moves further underneath her dress, right to where she needs him. his fingers meet the warmth of her center and he can’t hold back the moan that bubbles in his throat, exploring the area. it’s then that everything hits him, and realization dawns on him. a chuckle and a hum falls from his lips, his hand moving from underneath her dress.

“alright, baby. i see. won’t make you want any longer,” he croons, leaning toward her and pressing a kiss to the side of her mouth. she whimpers and leans into his touch before turning her head in search of his lips. he pulls away at the last second, causing her to let out a huff of frustration. “take y’panties off for me, angel. ‘s gonna be plenty of time for you t’kiss me, don’t worry,” he finishes, a smirk playing on his lips.

she hurriedly removes her legs from his lap, standing up and sliding her panties down her legs. she doesn’t bother stepping out of them when they reach the blanket beneath her feet, reaching for the bottom of her dress. harry reaches up and stops her. “keep that on for me, ‘s okay,” he murmurs. she drops the bottom of her dress just as he reaches down to grab the panties from underneath her, causing her to let out a giggle at how the dress sweeps over his face.

harry chuckles just a bit at her before tapping gently at her ankle, and she fully steps out of them for him before dropping down to her knees to sit right in front of hum. grasping them in his hand, he lets out a hum as his eyes flit up to meet hers. he runs his thumb over the center of them, the wetness of the material leaving his thumb a bit wet. holding them up to her, he watches her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the ruined material before she drags them away and off to the side somewhere to look anywhere but him.

he uses his free hand to reach up and gently grip her jaw, turning her head to face him. “no, need you to look at me bunny, it isn’t polite to be somewhere else when i’m in front of you,” he scolds, knowing he isn’t actually upset with her but she needs that in order to obey him. she hesitantly drags her eyes back to his, forcing her embarrassment down. “come down here,” he demands.

she instantly obliges and drops down to her knees before him, trying her hardest not to look away when he holds the ruined panties up to her. “need you to clean them for me, don’t want them to be ruined forever, bunny. ‘s expensive,” he explains vaguely, and she furrows her brows before turning to grab a napkin to clean them. a grunt of disapproval stops her, though, and she turns back to face him. “don’t need that. with your mouth, baby,” he corrects.

her eyes widen slightly at what he’s suggesting, but she’ll do almost anything for him, and although it’s a bit humiliating, it turns her on like no other. squeezing her thighs together, she bites down a moan and grabs the panties from him, flattening the material on her palm so that the crotch section is in her line of sight. she tries to avoid his eyes but she should’ve known better, harry’s hand coming up to grip her chin so their eyes can meet.

the impatient yet oddly calming look in his eyes is the last push she needs, her tongue peeking out of her mouth quickly to get to work on the wet fabric. she moans at the taste of herself, harry’s eyes still boring into hers as she cleans her mess. it’s not long before she cleans as much as she can, holding them up for harry to see.

“good girl,” he hums, taking the panties from her before reaching behind him to grab the bag that holds the toys. retrieving the bag, he turns back to her. the moment her eyes land on the bag, they light up as she has a good feeling about what the contents are. “lie down on your stomach for me, brought a surprise for you,” he grins, and she hurriedly scrambles to do so.

he unzips the bag and grabs the dildo he’d packed, along with some lube although he’s sure he won’t need it with how drenched she is. yn wants nothing more than to watch what he’s doing, but the suspense just makes her all the more excited. zipping the bag back up, he tosses it beside him before opening up the lube and pouring it onto the dildo. when it’s heavily coated, he places the lube down and uses his now free hand to push her dress up over her hips, tapping at her thigh to get her to spread them a bit more.

she takes the hint and does what he signaled, gasping when she almost immediately feels the toy against her heated lower lips. his actions are slow, teasing, even, as he adds more pressure so that the toy spreads her open, but he doesn’t immediately press in into her awaiting hole. with a roll of her eyes and a cry of frustration, she attempts to press her ass toward the toy, earning her a gentle but firm slap on her right ass cheek, a warning.

he isn’t surprised when she doesn’t fight back, and he rewards her lack of retaliation by finally pressing the toy into her, inching it in slowly as she gasps at the intrusion. when it bottoms out he leaves it there for her to adjust for a while, and after a few minutes she starts to get impatient. she tries her hardest not to show it, but he can tell she’s holding back, so he begins to move it inside of her, pulling it out just to push it back in. he keeps his actions steady and precise as her moans pick up, and it’s not long before she’s announcing her quickly approaching orgasm, no more words said as it immediately wracks her body.

she cums around the toy with a loud cry of relief, her body slumping against the blanket beneath her as she rides out the high. harry continues slowly moving the toy inside of her to prolong the orgasm, only stopping when she jolts a bit in overstimulation. he then pulls it out of her as slowly as possible, biting down a moan when he sees the glisten on the toy and her slightly gaping hole clenching around nothing in search of being filled again.

her breaths are still a bit shallow so he helps her out if her dress before urging her onto her back and keeping his hands on her body to ground her. she comes back to him within minutes, a sigh of contentment leaving her lips, swollen from biting them. harry honestly expects her to tap out then and there, tuckered out and ready to go home, but when she sits up to press her lips to his in the most desperate way, he can tell she wants more. and that he’ll give her.

without breaking their lips, harry pushes her onto her back once more, his hands exploring her body. when he reaches her chest, he can’t resist taking her nipples between his fingers and pinching them, just enough to make her moan into his mouth. he pulls away from the kiss first, shushing her groan of annoyance before reaching down between them and freeing his cock from its confines. her eyes widen as she realizes what’s about to happen; it’s what he’s been preparing her for, and she wants nothing more than to take it there.

he pushes his pants down to the thickness of his thighs and runs his thumb over his leaking tip, shuddering at that first touch of pleasure. a broken whimper falls from her lips as she watches him get himself ready for her, inpatient as ever. she doesn’t complain anymore, though, as he crawls to her until their bodies are touching, grabbing one of her legs and lifting it to get a better view.

using his free hand, he strokes his cock a few more times before lining up with her dripping and awaiting hole.

“‘m gonna go slow, angel. take real good care of you,” he promises, eyes exploring every inch of her face to make sure there’s no uncertainty or anxiety. she acknowledges his words with a confident nod, her hips bucking up to try and gain some sort of friction for her throbbing center.

taking his hand from her leg, he thinks it’d be better to have a distraction just in case there is a bit of a sting from the stretch, as he’s slightly thicker than her toy. longer, too. so he reaches between them and rubs gentle circles onto the head of her clit, pulling a contented hum from her. he keeps that up as he finally presses the head of his cock inside, happy that he doesn’t feel too much resistance from her tight hole.

his gaze flits up to her face and when he sees her with her eyes closed and a blissed out look on her face, he takes it as a green light. still moving slow, he presses himself into her until his hips meet her body, groans coming from the both of them when he passes over the thickest part. harry stays like that until he’s sure she won’t hurt when he moves, his thumb still drawing circles on her clit. his thrusts are slow and gentle when he starts moving, using his legs as leverage more than anything to get as deep inside her as possible.

“how’s it feel, bunny?” he questions, voice gentle and soothing. “‘s it feeling nice? not painful for you?” his voice comes out shaky, his teeth ground together as some form of keeping himself restrained. he’s forcing down each and every thought of absolutely wrecking his sweet girl, knowing she can’t handle that right now.

“‘s good, ‘s good, so deep inside me,” he whines beneath him, untucking her lip from between her teeth to get her words out. “my tummy’s so full, feels nice,” she finishes with a moan and a jolt when he angles his hips just a bit so that the head of his cock hits her g-spot head on.

“there we go, angel. that’s the spot i was looking for, know it gets you all dumb for me when i touch that, hm?” he coos condescendingly, adding just enough force to his thrusts that he has to hold her down by her hips with each one. she can’t even speak anymore, the constant assault on that spot inside of her rendering her speechless and her body numb. not a single coherent thought can be formed as the peak precision of his thrusts push her closer and closer to what she’s been craving.

removing his hands from her hips, harry decides to speed up the process just a bit by grabbing the backs of her thighs and pushing them up as far as they can go, holding them there with one hand and bringing the other to where their bodies meet, his thumb finding its way through her folds until he gets to her clit, pressing it right onto the head and rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts. the added sensation and angle change draws a long, drawn out moan from her, her hands flying out on either side of her to push her up onto her palms a bit. the pleasure she’s feeling is so intense that she tries to both run away from it and lean into it, squirming away just for her hips to grind down to meet his thrusts.

“no, gotta take it, baby. almost there, know you’re so close for me,” he rasps, quickly removing the hand from her thighs and leaning forward to press some of his weight on top of her for better control. the feeling of harry’s warmth enveloping her sends her flying over the edge unexpectedly, the ball of pleasure that’s deep in her tummy practically exploding.

her back arches up off the blanket and into his chest as far as she can with him on top of her and her legs, eyes rolling back into her head. the orgasm takes over her body before she can even comprehend it, her hole fluttering around him for a moment before locking down onto his cock so hard that he has to squeeze his eyes shut, his balls drawing up so unexpectedly and intensely that it practically knocks the breath from his lungs.

“oh, fuck bunny- shit, ‘s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, can’t hold it,” he gasps, accent as thick as ever as he grips onto the blanket beneath his palms. his hips stutter in rhythm for just a second, the final warning sign of his orgasm. he barely has time to push himself up and pull out of her, cum shooting from his tip just as he frees himself. one hand flies to the backs of her thighs as the other begins to stroke his cock quickly, milking himself for all he has. his cum is already painting the back of one of her thighs, dripping down to her ass with each passing second.

yn can barely see him from the small space between her legs, but just hearing him so wrecked from being inside of her makes her throb in excitement once again, a needy whimper falling from her lips when she hears him choke on a sob and feels something warm land right onto her pussy. she’s in the position for no more than a minute longer as his moans die down and his furious strokes become slower, and when her thighs are freed from the confines of his hand, she can’t help but keep them there and reach up to the one that’s covered in his orgasm and swipe a finger through.

dropping her legs finally, she looks harry right in the eyes as she brings that same hand up to her mouth and takes the finger inside, her tongue moving around it to get the full taste of him. harry can do nothing but let his eyes flutter closed as a choked moan falls from his lips. he wants nothing more than to simply wreck her until she’s crying and drooling but he can’t do that now, she’s not ready. he doesn’t even think he’ll be able to get it back up now, not with how she absolutely drained him.

so he does the next best thing; without even bothering to clean up the mess that covers the both of them, he adjusts himself until he’s flat on his stomach, grabbing the outsides of her thighs when he’s eye level with her pussy. “‘m gonna take care of you, bunny. don’t worry. gonna clean you up too,” he whispers, eyes meeting hers when he hears a desperate cry come from her. she’s already so sensitive that he knows it won’t take long to make her cum, but that doesn’t mean he should half ass it.

pressing gentle kisses to the soft skin of her thighs, he ignores her huffs of frustration when he doesn’t immediately start licking into her. the kisses travel closer and closer to where she’s messy and throbbing for him, but they are way too slow for her taste. one last groan comes from her before she’s had enough, propping herself up on an elbow and reaching forward with her free hand, grabbing the back of his head and pushing his face onto her.

a noise of shock leaves him at how bold she’s become, but he has to respect it, chuckling against her before nipping at one of her swollen lower lips. she gasps quietly at the sting but it melts into a moan as he, in one fell swoop, licks into her folds before sucking her swollen and sensitive clit into his mouth. her grip tightens on him and she grinds her hips against him to chase the pleasure, tossing her head back as her back arches up from the blanket.

the tug on his hair forces a groan of delight from him and he only buries his face further into her, beginning to alternate between licking and sucking at her. the vibrations rumble into her body, the knot in her belly tightening out of nowhere. she’s become incoherent above him the closer she gets to her orgasm, wordless babbles leaving her lips as she tries to warn him of it.

his actions simply increase tenfold, licks and sucks a bit more precise as he pulls the orgasm from her. just a few moments later he feels her thighs start to fight to tighten around his head and a long, loud moan falls from her lips as her final orgasm wracks her body. she goes so stiff that her thigh muscles begin to cramp slightly, her legs shaking from the force.

harry begins to lick at her a bit gentler than he had before so he can avoid overstimulating her too much, his hands caressing her thighs while she tries to recover. for her, it feels like forever until her body fully relaxes, small aftershocks jolting her body with each relaxation. she’s gasping for air when her body is finally freed, her chest heaving from the intensity of everything.

he notices some tears that have leaked down the sides of her face, and he takes a wipe from the container he’d brought and cleans her face thoroughly before grabbing some more to clean up her lower half. when he gets to her vagina she gasps and pulls away in overstimulation, causing him to frown just a bit. “i know, bunny. just have t’get you cleaned up ‘s all. won’t be long,” he coos, using one hand to spread her open gently and the other to gingerly wipe the area.

once she’s all clean he moves to the backs of her thighs, wiping his sticky, drying cum from them. it takes a bit more effort to do so, but he isn’t complaining, taking his time and keeping an eye on her breathing. when she’s fully clean, he helps her sit up and puts her dress back onto her, murmuring words of encouragement each step of the way. “can you stand up, angel? think you can walk to the car with me or do y’need some help?” he questions, voice soft as to not disturb the calm and quiet state of her.

“i can walk, i think,” she responds, and harry hops up before reaching back down to help her up. she’s a bit shaky for a moment but she becomes stable after a few seconds of being on her feet. he guides her to the car slowly, and he’s surprised for a moment that she isn’t wincing or limping a bit, but he quickly realizes it’s probably due to the adrenaline rush she’s feeling.

they make it to the car and he helps her in before pressing a kiss to her head and then running back to clean up their area. walking back to the car, he smiles fondly at her as he realizes she’s already fallen asleep, light snores leaving her parted lips. he packs everything into the trunk and hops into the driver’s seat.

the drive back is nothing short of calm and peaceful, some song she’d added to the queue on the drive there playing softly in the vehicle. he makes it to his house before he knows it, and when he pulls into his garage he turns the car off before running into the house and up the stairs to quickly start a bath for her. he does the works; bubbles, soothing oils, and he lights a candle that is on his counter before running back down to the car to unload it. he does so as quietly as possible because he wants waking her up to be the last thing so that she can just wake up and get in the bath.

he takes a bit to put away everything from the car and when he goes to check the bath, it’s ready for her. turning the water off, he heads back down to the garage to wake her up. knocking on the passenger side window, he gives her some time to lift her head before opening the door, chuckling at her when he sees the confusion on her face as well as a mark on her from the door. “we’re at my house, angel. i ran you a bath and i want to clean you up a bit and then i promise i’ll let you sleep,” he whispers, and she nods a bit grumpily from being woken up but a bath sounds heavenly so she obliges.

stepping out of the car, she does start to feel that slight sting between her legs from the stretch and the burn in her thighs from the angle he had her in, but she brushes it off as she knows the bath will work wonders. they step into the bathroom and it’s just like all of the emotions of the day, the month even, hit her at once. her eyes well with tears and her shoulders slump when they take over her, and she turns her body to bury her face into his chest.

“thank you, thank you,” she sobs against him, and his heart both breaks and warms for her, his arms coming to wrap around her. they stay there for a while as she gets all of her emotions out, harry whispering encouragement words and pressing kisses to the top of her head. her breath is still a bit stutter-y as she pulls away from him, quickly turning to the toilet paper to clean herself up, but he beats her to it, grabbing some off the roll and cleaning her up. she’s so grateful that she gets a bit teary again, but then harry starts to press kisses all over her face, making her giggle.

“alright, bunny. let’s get you in the bath,” he instructs, tossing the toilet paper out. he pulls the dress over her head once more and she steps out of her shoes. being naked in front of him, she expects to feel a bit self conscious despite how many times he’s seen her, but this time she feels nothing but warm and fuzzy. full, even, as he smiles at her with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

she walks over to the tub and steps in, humming at the temperature of the water, it’s actually perfect for her. the water covers her up to around her armpits and she relishes in the warmth before looking up at her boyfriend expectantly. he laughs at the look on her face before explaining himself. “i’m gonna get in with you, don’t worry, ms grumpy, just need to grab some towels and clothes for when we get out,” he chuckles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips as if to seal his promise.

a belly laugh leaves him when he’s walking out and he hears her mumble something about not taking too long or she won’t let him in. he knows she won’t make good on her words but he still hurries back to her, wanting to be near her. he makes it back to her and quickly sheds his clothes, walking over to the tub and having her scoot up so he can slide behind her. the warmth envelops him and he envelops her, wrapping his arms around the front of her to pull her closer.

they stay like that for a while, so long that their fingers have gone pruny by the time they pull apart. harry is the one that breaks the contact, and he only does so because he notices that she starts to doze off, and he wants to clean her up before she falls asleep again. she grumbles a bit at the slight loss of warmth but when she feels harry start to clean her up, she understands.

he takes his time and cleans her up thoroughly before letting her sit there for a few while he cleans himself up. when he’s all clean he steps out of the tub first, drying off a bit before wrapping the towel around his waist and then he’s helping her out and doing the same for her, wrapping the towel around her upper body. harry guides them to the bedroom and drops the towel from his waist to slip on some boxers before making sure yn is fully dry and grabbing the t shirt he’d picked out earlier and helping her slide it over her head. he decided not to give her a pair of his boxers to sleep in so that he could let her lower half breathe through the night.

pulling back the blankets on the bed, he lets her get in and comfortable, passing her the remote to his tv so she can pick something to fall asleep to. while she does that, he goes downstairs and grabs her a bottled water from his fridge, downing one for himself before going back up. he opens the bottle and passes it to her, to which she thanks him and drinks all of it in record time. she finishes the drink and he takes it from her to place on the nightstand to toss tomorrow, hitting the light and climbing into the bed beside her.

a fond smile forms on his face when he sees that the show she chose for the night is rick and morty, something he remembers her telling him a couple weeks ago. the volume isn’t too loud as to keep them awake, the sound just loud enough to make out the words of the characters.

the two sit and watch the show until their eyes become unbearably heavy, and when harry feels yn slide down even further under the blankets before cuddling into him, he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open even if he wanted to. so he wraps his arms around her and pulls her even closer, despite knowing that they’ll get hot sometime soon, and he presses one last kiss to the top of her head before the exhaustion finally catches up to them and they’re asleep in seconds, light snores leaving their lips.

~

well…🥲

[omegalomania]

What are some of your favorite aro-/ace-coded fob lyrics?

oh fuck yes a little bowl of seeds just for me

boycott love from disloyal order of water buffaloes is a personal favorite of mine. its a lyric i really really want tattooed at some point. that's not the only lyric i latch onto from an aro perspective but it's probably the biggest one

basically the entirety of it's hard to say "i do" when i don't but a special mention goes to you are appealing to emotions that i simply do not have as well as the only ring i want buried with me are the ones around my eyes

it's true romance is dead / i shot it in the chest and in the head from the music or the misery is also a favorite of mine, also just that whole song in general

i thought i loved you but it was just how you looked in the light in hum hallelujah resonates with a lot of queer folks i've found, and it's no different for me

same goes for it's a strange way of saying that i know i'm supposed to love you from g.i.n.a.s.f.s.

i'm outside the door, invite me in / so we can go back and play pretend from alone together brings me back to when i was trying to perform heteronormativity/amatonormativity even if it was making me miserable

i also hold to a very similar vibe with she said "i love you 'till i don't" / i am just playing house, no idea what i'm doing now from sunshine riptide and also most of burna boy's verse, frankly. i fell in love but i didn't fall down and feel like i'm bulletproof, baby in particular

american beauty/american psycho, particularly the first verse. i think i fell in love again / maybe i just took too much cough medicine

golden is a big one for queer folks in general i've found. the chorus especially hits hard from an aro and/or ace reading. and i saw god cry in the reflection of my enemies / and all the lovers with no time for me

i've got a dark alley and a bad idea that says you should shut your mouth is a heavy song no matter how you slice it. but that chorus gets to me in particular: we can fake it for the airwaves / force our smiles, baby, half-dead / from comparing myself to everyone else around me

the kids aren't alright reads to me as one big anthem for platonic love above anything romantic, which resonates super hard with me. the second verse has a lot of good lines that i latch onto from an aroace lens too. your love is anemic and i can't believe / that you couldn't see it coming from me

pretty much the whole chorus of HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T does it for me, and those verses have got some good aroallo vibes too! i never really feel a thing... confidants but never friends...

the whole of fake out is a gimme. that chorus rings real true. starts with love is in the air, i just gotta find a window to break out and finishing with but it was all a fake-out

i've got all this ringing in my ears and none on my fingers is one that has another highly applicable title but the whole refrain of the truth hurts worse / than anything i could bring myself to do to you paired with the one-two punch of that second verse REALLY gets under my skin

and of course, the culminating one: you are what you love, not who loves you from save rock and roll. obviously there are a LOT of ways to read that line

there are a couple other songs i latch onto - wilson (expensive mistakes); a little less "sixteen candles", a little more "touch me"; the (after) life of the party to name a few - but the ones listed above are the big lyrics that resonate with me on a personal level

just in general i have a shitton of fob over on my aro playlist (which doubles as a general aroace/queer playlist but has a lot of emphasis on aromanticism) in case i forgot to mention anything but like i said those are the big ones

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 10/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008)

CHAPTER TEN - 2009

                “I think I might be done.”

                Tom almost drops the phone and he sits up straighter, knuckles tight.

                “What?”

                “You heard me. I think I might be done. Not with flying. Just… active duty. Think I might try out for that test pilot program you keep leave lying around. You’re not subtle.”

                “Mav…”

                “Best of both worlds right? I still get to fly, but I’m not on the other side of the world. I feel like I’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want to…”

                He doesn’t finish whatever it is he’s thinking, but Tom can fill in the blanks with a multitude of endings. There’s Bradley of course, but he’s twenty-five. But Tamsin is only twelve and Petra is ten. He knows Mav doesn’t want to leave any of them. He could add himself in there, if he thought that maybe he was enough for Mav to consider giving up active duty. He’s never been enough before, and he’d never be a fool enough to ask Mav to stop doing something he loves, no matter how much Tom worries.

                The days tick past and he hasn’t felt this settled or optimistic since Mav briefly took a break and simply remained in reserves when Carole got sick. Just the knowledge that he won’t be on active duty in a war zone makes him feel ridiculously pleased, even if at the same time he worries about Bradley. Lord he’s glad that the girls are local and he doesn’t need to worry about them other than standard parenting worries. He hopes they pick nice quiet and safe jobs, because as he gets older, he’s not sure his heart is going to take it if it has the same series of shocks it’s experienced with Maverick.

                His next phone conversation doesn’t happen until a couple of weeks later and he finds out the Maverick has requested all the paperwork necessary and submitted an application. He doesn’t let his shock bleed through, but he definitely feels it, accompanied by the realization that when Mav gets home from this deployment he won’t be leaving American soil for a mission again, not if he gets any say in the matter. And he knows someone will ask. He may love Maverick, but he also isn’t blind to any of his faults and his peers know that at least.

                “I’m 48, they probably think I’ve calmed down enough in my old age to give me a shot right?”

                Ice keeps his mouth shut, because he’s made it a rule to try not to lie and he doesn’t think anyone in the Navy will ever assume Maverick has calmed down.

                “You’re definitely qualified for the position. They’d be lucky to have you,” is what he settles on instead.

…            …            …

                “Can we have a movie night daddy?”

                “Of course. As long as the two of you can both compromise on one movie and not argue over it,” Tom says, because listening to them bicker gets exhausting. He knows he’s giving Melissa and Sarah a break most weekends by having them come and stay with him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, but he finds himself admiring parents who do it all the time with no break in sight. He is so grateful that he has them, but he’s also certain that they enjoy Bradley’s company over his, with them all sharing equal levels of energy.

                “Kung Fu Panda!”

                Tom looks between them and they’re both nodding vigorously; he feels like he’s been set up, tempted to message Sarah and check in to see whether this particular movie has been vetoed for any particular reason. It seems completely benign and he watches it, entertained by the different characters and enjoying having his daughters curled up on either side of him. Tamsin is drifting off, clearly not quite as engaged with the story as Petra, but he’s not going to rouse her and tell her to go to bed, happy to have her slumped against him. It’s not until later, when he’s carried Tamsin, still asleep, up to her bed and come back down to find Petra chopping at the pillows that he realizes his mistake.

                “Daddy? Can I have kung fu lessons?”

                Of course, the warning was right there in the title of the movie. He should have known. She is such a daredevil and so full of energy and god she reminds him of Pete with every smile. He knows he can never say no to her, the best he can do is delay and hope that either she forget (unlikely), or someone else will tell her no.

                “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

                “Okay! Love you daddy. Good night!”

                “Love you too peanut. Good night…”

…            …            …

                He swings his bag over his shoulder, feels buoyant as he walks toward the spot where everyone is disembarking. He knows he’s got his family waiting and he’s got four more weeks before Mav finishes his own deployment, has spoken to him about his plans to withdraw from active duty if his application for test pilot training is accepted and Bradley knows they won’t be turning someone with Mav’s experience down. But there are two golden weeks where all seven of them will be together and he cannot wait.

                “Expect your wife is going to make you shave that off before she lets you within five yards of her…” Bradley calls out to Flipper, who just laughs and gives him the finger.

                “Like you can grow a better one!” Fin yells back and Bradley laughs.

                “I can grow a better moustache in my sleep.”

                “Photos, or it didn’t happen!”

         ��      “You’re on!”

…            …            …

                “I’m not a baby Bradley…”

                “You’re not even half my age,” Bradley replies, trying his best to keep his amusement from his tone. Tamsin will be a teenager at the end of the year, something he’s sort of in denial about, can still remember his early days of being a teenager himself and Sarah carefully placing infant Tamsin in his arms.

                “Which makes you ancient.”

                “If I’m ancient, what does that make your dad?”

                “A zombie. Have you seen him?”

                Bradley snorts, because Ice definitely looks half-dead, but he’s putting that down to his worry over Maverick, who is in the Middle East, but he should be home in about a week. Not soon enough judging from the dark circle under Ice’s eyes. Although the fact that Ice is for some reason now letting Petra try out a variety of martial arts may also be part of his worry. But it means he gets one-on-one time with Tamsin, who definitely seems to have something on her mind.

                “Bradley.”

                “Yeah. Sorry. I’ll stop changing the subject. Hit me with the serious question you wanted to ask me.” God he hopes it isn’t about sex.

                “Do you think my parents loved each other?”

                Fuck. Sex would be easier. Maybe?

                “Uh… Why do you ask?”

                Shit. He is not equipped for this conversation at all.

                “I just… they seem to love each other. I don’t get why they got divorced.”

                Oh. Okay. Maybe he is equipped to answer this after all.

                “Well, you know your mom is a lesbian right?”

                “So getting married and having me and Petra was a mistake?”

                Double shit. Reverse. Undo. Back track. Fuck.

                “No. I’m pretty sure it was anything but a mistake. I think you and Petra are both very wanted and much loved. Uh. Have you talked to any of your parents about this?”

                “No. I don’t want to upset them.”

                He’s trying to remember how old he was when they told him, how old he was when he figured it out. He knows Ice and Sarah won’t be upset, that they’ve probably been prepared for this conversation for years. And yet she’s having it with him.

                “I just wonder sometimes because I look at Petra and she looks so much more like Papa than she does dad. I look like dad. Petra looks at least a little bit like mom.”

                “Uh. Yeah. I noticed that too. That’s very observant of you.”

                Where the fuck is Ice when he needs him?

                “Do you think my mom had an affair?”

                “No. I know she didn’t… shit.”

                “You’re not meant to swear.”

                “Yeah. I know. This is just… I really think you need to talk to your mom and dad about this.”

                “Why? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

                “Fuck…” Bradley breathes out.

                “You’re really not meant to say that word…”

                “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to tell you. But I’m going to be telling your parents, all of them, that I’ve told you. So you can go and talk with them and ask questions, because… I was your age when your parents got married. I do not have all the details.”

                “Okay. So tell me, what happened?”

                He gives the bare bones, explains, as best he can, about DADT. Agrees with her when she calls it stupid. Talks about his own parents and how both Ice and Mav married women, his mom being one of them, Sarah being the other. He ends up getting a picture of his parents from his room to show her and then holding her as she cries, realizing that he’d lost both his parents when he’d been her age.

                He explains how and why Ice and Mav hide their relationship, that he also won’t be bringing a girlfriend home anytime soon. Isn’t planning on having a relationship anytime soon because it’s simply in the too hard basket. Then he brings up the fact that she is very observant, that Petra does indeed look like Mav, and that’s because Mav is her biological dad. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in surprise and he wonders if he’s said too much. Hopes like hell that trusting his gut is going to have been the right thing to do, that Mav and Ice letting him know about his own mom’s wishes and then letting him make his own decisions about his own life. That they’d want Tamsin to also know the truth of the matter, especially as she’s asking questions.

                “Can I swear?”

                “Sure. Go ahead.”

                “Holy shit.”

                Bradley throws back his head and laughs.

…            …            …

                Knowing that this is his last time is bittersweet. He walks over the deck and lets his fingers trail over the railing. He didn’t join to live his life on a carrier, being on a carrier is just a necessity for somewhere for the planes to land and refuel before they can get back into the sky. He misses the sky every time he’s on the ground, needs the wide open spaces which is why he likes going out to the hangar so much, the sheer amount of space around him makes it feel like he’s close to being in the sky. As he disembarks he can see Bradley standing and waiting, Tamsin and Petra beside him and his throat works, because he’s home, and safe, and he won’t have to leave them again wondering if he’ll not make it home.

…            …            …

                “Jesus kid, you look like you dad.”

                “Uh. Sorry. Do you want me to shave it?”

                “No!” Pete says, vehement. “Shit Bradley. You’re allowed to look like your dad. You do that without even trying. Just took me by surprise. He’d be tickled pink and so proud of you. Your mom would be too, scared shitless every time you were out of sight, but she’d still be so proud. We’re proud of you too you know. All of us. Ice, Sarah, Melissa. You’ve turned into this amazing capable man and I’m immensely proud to call you my son…”

                “Uh. Thanks. I think you all had a lot to do with how I’ve turned out…”

                “We tried to help point you in the right direction, but you’re the one who put in the hard work.”

                “And you and Ice taught me all about hard work.”

                “I guess we did.”

                “Can I ask you something?”

                “Of course, you can ask me anything.”

                “When you taught me how to shave… did you feel old?”

                “Old? No. Not old. But… a little sad I guess?”

                “Sad?”

                “Well, that your dad wasn’t the one teaching you. That you weren’t this little kid anymore. I was glad I got to be there for it… You planning on keeping that caterpillar?”

                “No. Just growing it for a dare. Why?”

                “I have something of your dad’s. He was ridiculously proud of his moustache, had this little kit that your mom bought him, little comb and brush, little pair of scissors. Been keeping it safe, if you end up needing it for your own then I guess I better get it out of storage…”

                “I… thanks Mav. I’ll be shaving it off before I report back though. Too annoying to maintain and keep tidy.”

                “Okay. Well, you let me know if you change your mind.”

…            …            …

                “You want to do my hair?”

                “Yeah! Can we but bows in it?”

                “Have at it,” Bradley says, so glad they’re both still willing to be a little silly with him. He knows with the current state of the US military he’s never going to have kids, not unless he figures something out with Natasha and he doesn’t think she’d put her career on hold and he wouldn’t expect her to. So he will make do with what he has and enjoy it as much as he can in the moment, knows Tamsin is very much on the cusp of not doing this again, is simply

                “Why don’t you always let it grow long?”

                “Navy doesn’t allow us to have long hair.”

                “They Navy is dumb,” Tamsin says, pouting as she runs a sparkly purple comb through his curls, and Bradley bites down on his lips to hide a grin. She’s been quite vocal to him about how stupid she thinks the whole institution is, although very careful not to say it within hearing of either Ice or Mav. Although Mav has just appeared in the door, eye bright with mischief as he takes in the scene.

                “You look very pretty Bradley.”

                “Thank you. They worked very hard to make me look this good.”

                “Papa! Come sit!”

                Bradley laughs at the expression on Mav’s face, but then he’s sinking to the floor beside him and Petra is putting bows in his hair as well and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen Mav look happier. The dark circles under Ice’s eyes have also gone so Bradley is pretty sure everything is right with their world.

…            …            …

                Tamsin looks miserable and Bradley isn’t sure what he can do, needs to immediately fix whatever it is that is making her look like this. They’ve grown closer during this leave period, with their conversation making her feel more like an adult, at least with him. Fortunately he’d been commended for how he’d handled the conversation with her, the approval of all his parental figures had hit him hard and unexpected, not aware how much he still wanted and needed it.

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Nothing.”

                “Uh. You look sad though.”

                “I’m allowed to be sad!” Tamsin snaps and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up.

                “Can you tell me why you’re sad?”

                “I can’t go swimming…”

                Bradley blinks, confused.

                “Um. Why not?”

                “Because I have my period.”

                He rears back, the shock of the fact and the straightforward statement taking him completely by surprise. Sure they were like brother and sister, but this was new.

                “Since when?”

                “Since this morning. It’s not contagious. Stop looking at me like that!”

                “Um. Sorry. Just, uh, I kind of… you’re growing up I guess and that’s just…”

                “Making you feel really old?”

                “Yeah, little bit. Shit.”

                “You think it’s shit for you? You’re not the one that has to have it every month…”

                “I apologize on behalf of my entire gender.”

                “Good. You should be sorry.”

                He bites his lip and nods his head, holy hell she’s going to be a force to be reckoned with and he really should have invited Natasha home with him. Next time.

                “How about we go ice skating instead?”

                “Oh! Yes! But don’t let Petra bully you into playing hockey. She can wait until the season starts again.”

                “Petra is playing hockey?”

                “Duh. She tried field hockey but then complained it wasn’t fast enough. I think mom is a little worried she’s going to steal the car and take it for a ride.”

                “Ha. Hahahaha,” Bradley laughs nervously, because hold shit if he didn’t already know she was Mav’s kid, hearing that she likes things fast and a little dangerous. “How is her skateboarding going?”

                “Good. She’s managing some really cool things now. We should go to the skatepark so she can practice.”

                “You’re a good big sister.”

                “Thanks. I had a good big brother to show me what not to do.”

                “Hey!”

                “Kidding! I love you Bradley.”

                “Love you too Tamsin.”

…            …            …

                With a sense of dejavu he reads the news. Gay marriage has been legalized in Iowa and also Vermont. That’s four different states now. It’s like a domino effect and after decades of hiding.

…            …            …

                “Sir.”

                “Aubrey. What is it.”

                “Sorry sir. Nothing.”

                From experience Tom knows it is definitely not nothing. Aubrey takes her breaks with all the other support staff and has some convoluted but incredibly invaluable way of hearing of things before they become issues which he then finds he has to deal with.

                “Clearly it isn’t nothing. What have you heard this time?”

                He hasn’t told her about his little note-book, but he suspects she has something similar, even if it’s only in her own head.

                “You’ve known Captain Mitchell for a long time sir.”

                Inwardly Tom groans to himself, wonders what the hell he’s done now.

                “Yes. Over twenty years.”

                “A good friend then sir.”

                “Yes. My best friend.”

                She looks torn then and he frowns, wonders what she knows that he potentially hasn’t already heard about from someone else in the Navy. Maverick is not known for being quiet or passing unnoticed, which is why he suspects that their relationship has gone unremarked upon for so many years, many people assuming Maverick could not keep something like that secret.

                “Maverick was seen going into your ex-wife’s house… at nearly midnight.”

                He doesn’t let his surprise show, because while he knows there is gossip he’d never expected to hear it from his assistant. Also this is something he knows about, because Maverick took his car, because the bike would have been far too noisy at midnight.

                “Okay. Just to be clear, you think that Maverick is having an affair with my ex-wife?”

                “Isn’t he meant to be your best friend sir?”

                Oh. Wow. There goes the idea that she had clocked him.

                “Okay. Yes. He is my best friend. In fact his late-wife, Bradley’s mom, introduced me to Sarah. However Sarah and Maverick are grown consenting adults… However, if we’re talking about last week, well Maverick was there because Melissa was working a night shift, Sarah and the girls were sick and I couldn’t risk getting sick and Mav is on leave…”

                “Oh.”

                He swallows nervously, because he’d sort of assumed that she had put everything together, that he and Mav were more than just friends. However the fact that she thinks… well, thought. Until he just cleared that up.               

                “Melissa? The woman Captain Mitchell brought to the dinner last year?”

                “Yes. My ex-wife’s… wife,” Tom provides, and this is potentially where all his well-craft duplicity comes undone, however he’s never been wrong yet with where he’s laid his trust.

                “Oh. Oh. Sir.”

                “Was there a question in there Aubrey?”

                “No sir. Not at all. You have a very lovely family.”

                “Yes. I consider myself very lucky to have them all in my life.”

                “Just so sir.”

…            …            …           

(LONELY NIGHTS FITS HERE - Bradley and Jake hook up the weekend before they both report to Corpus Christi.)

…            …            …

                He’s known in the pit of his stomach that he and Jake were reporting to the same base, however he hadn’t realized that Jake was also a naval aviator and that means their circles of interactions are overlapping too much for his own liking. He doesn’t speak with Jake directly, doesn’t let any sign of recognition show on his face as they’re introduced. Jake is fresh from USNA, bright and eager and smart and also so fucking talented that Bradley can see why he’s here. Without even being aware of it he finds himself tracking Jake’s movements and god, he needs to get it under control and figure out a way to be more subtle otherwise he’s going to bring them both down.

                He wonders if he’d still have slept with him if he’d known.

                He needs to talk to Ice and Mav and figure out how they keep it hidden, because he’s worked too hard to get where he is to let it all crumble apart now.

…            …            …

                “Sir. Captain Mitchell is here to see you.”

                “Of course. Thank you Aubrey. Captain Mitchell, nice to see you again.”

                “And you Admiral.”

                He doesn’t miss the fact that she makes Maverick a cup of coffee.

…            …            …

                Bradley’s normal Saturday afternoon phone call is usually with Mav, and he’s just about to offer to go and get him when it becomes apparent that Bradley maybe wants to talk to him first, words exploding out of him.

                “How do you do it? Have your relationship with Mav and settle for… this weird half-life?”

                God he hopes Bradley is somewhere he can’t be overheard.

                “When it’s that, or the option of not having him in my life at all? It’s an easy decision.”

                On the other end of the line Bradley sucks in a breath, Tom isn’t sure how to take it. Wonders what the hell Bradley has gotten up to when he’s not even been gone two weeks.

                “He’s a rank below me.” It’s Tom’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, but a single rank isn’t unsurmountable. Not when it’s low and there isn’t a large differential of power. “I didn’t even know he was Navy when we hooked up the first time.”

                “The first time?”

                “Well, the first time rolled into the second and then… a couple of days and nights together.”

                “Jesus Bradley. Are you sure he’s not going to make a complaint against you?”

                “I’m not completely sure, but I don’t think he would. He might not like me very much right now, but I don’t think he hates me and would want to implode my career.”

                “Shit Bradley. Look. It’s going to be hard either way. Being with him, not being able to tell anyone, spending months apart, having to pretend you don’t care about him anymore than any other of your shipmates… But that type of hard can be worth it when you come home to each other. Or you make a hard decision now and cut your losses, walk away from it and then always wonder what might have happened…”

                “Yeah. I’ve already cut my losses.”

                “Okay kid. Okay.”

…            …            …

                “Hey Mav.”

                “Bradley. You okay?”

                “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… you know that moustache kit of my dads?”

                “Yes.”

                “Could you send it to me?”

                “Of course buddy. Everything okay?”

                “Yeah. I just… figured I’d try keeping it for a bit. Someone told me I suited it.”

                “Well, they weren’t wrong.”

…            …            …

                On Monday when Tom gets to work he asks Aubrey to collate a list of all current personnel going through flight school at Corpus Christi. Knows one of them is going to be Bradley’s maybe unwise hook-up.

                He also asks her to get him a new note book.

CHAPTER ELEVEN (2010)

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Could I please request what it is like to go shopping with Jason? (I mean, a trip to the mall)

Whether he goes with us, we go with him, or it's a day of shopping as a couple.

I hope you enjoy

Jason LOVES going to the mall. He loves going by himself so he can look at all the newest fashion, but he loves going with you even more so he can spoil you and get you whatever it is you'd like. It's become a common running theme on my blog that Jason spends ridiculous amounts of money on you since he can afford it, and that absolutely comes into play whenever he goes to the mall with you. He will wander around there for hours with you and buy you quite literally whatever you ask for, so don't feel like you're troubling him if you ask him for that extra t-shirt or the newest plushie in a collection you've been trying to collect. 

There are a couple of different types of stores Jason always likes to go to first, assuming it's applicable. He always starts in makeup stores, mostly because Jason buys new makeup for himself since he does his own makeup a lot, but if you're a makeup wearer, or you're interested in getting into it, he'll buy you the stuff you like, or he'll recommend you something he thinks would look good on you and work for you. The other kind of store he would like to start in, if applicable as I said, would be jewelry stores. If you like jewelry, or if you let him buy it for you, he loves taking you to those stores and getting you new necklaces, bracelets, rings, or just whatever it is you enjoy, although it's not necessary if you don't enjoy jewelry. He wants to get you things he thinks you'd enjoy, or that you outright say you enjoy, so don't feel like you have to go look around a store just because he wants to. If you don't want to be in a store, neither does he.

After he goes to stores for himself, it's all you. Any store you want to go to, even just to browse, you can feel free to lead the way, and he's happy to follow along. I think he likes it this way the most because it allows you to show off to him all of the things you enjoy, which makes it easier for him to shop for you in the future whenever he surprises you with gifts. Also, unless you otherwise insist, Jason loves carrying your bags for you. He loves to be useful in any way he can, and so he will happily carry around anything you want him to get you, as he doesn't want you to tire yourself out, and it doesn't bother him at all considering he shops to the extremes for himself when he's alone. If you start getting hungry he's happy to take you to a food court, or if you'd allow him, you could finish up your shopping for the day and he'll take you out to a nice restaurant so you can sit down for a while after all that walking around. Jason really likes days like this, where he can really spoil you and learn more about you and your interests. He could stand in the same store for hours listening to you explaining things about clothes you like, or fandom items that might be in there, and he remembers all the little details you tell him. He doesn't always have the time to do these trips often, but whenever he's able he's more than happy to do them with you.

[clumsyraccoon]

OK, here it is...

Kusakabe Atsuya (JuJutsu Kaisen) x AFAB!reader

Reader is afab but I tried to keep anything else as gender neutral as possible, so description of body should be ambiguous. "pussy", "cunt" and "clit" used to describe genitalia. No pronouns used.

Adding details: reader is a foreigner sorcerer, mentions of previous make out session (I said it was self indulgent… >.>”), mentions of alcohol

Smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THANK YOU): fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Words: 2630

[I swear to the gods I don't know what (or who) possessed me while writing this O_O It's honestly my first time ever finishing a smut piece, so if you have comments and/or constructive criticisms, as always I will be more than welcome to hear them! ^^]

[Ah, yes, not beta read, minor edit just to not post a complete mess XD]

The now empty boxes of your take-out are set aside in a corner of the table, to make room for all the preparatory paperwork for the mission. Forms, applications, and all the paperwork required: you also had to learn all the bureaucratic minutiae in order to become a full-fledged sorcerer. You flanked several professional sorcerers since you arrived at Tokyo JuJutsu High, to better understand all the various processes and to see how every individual had their way of doing the work, and for the mission at hand it was Kusakabe-san turn.

After the end of class for that day, you both opted go to the home of one of the two: as much as JuJutsu High provided rooms and offices for their personnel, the both of you wanted somewhere more cosy and relaxed, as winter was fast approaching and being in the office when it was already so dark outside spoiled the mood of the man paired with you.

In that first year in Japan, you had the chance to meet a variety of exceptional and extravagant people that left you almost without breath sometimes, first above anyone else the person that scouted you: Gojo Satoru. But Kusakabe was somehow...different. He was indeed a powerful and skilled sorcerer, a Grade 1 nonetheless, but his demeanor was so in contrast with people like Gojo or Mei-Mei that he seemed almost...normal. And that was kind of a relief, especially for a foreigner that has been oblivious about the jujutsu society for most of their life. He was a good teacher and when he came to you, he used the same patience and tranquility in explaining things: just as he didn't treat any of his students as stupid (maybe apart from the occasional times when they drove him nuts), he never made you feel inferior, putting you at the same level of every other sorcerer and explaining things calmly and clearly.

“Now, we begin with filling the Prearranged Team Management Form.” his low voice takes you out of your own thoughts, bringing you back to the delightfully bureaucratic filled present. He slides a blank folder under your nose, pointing with his finger the protocol number. “It serves to organise who will be in the team and leave a track of which exact people will be at which exact location. Obviously 99% of the time it is filled out after the mission is over, due to the lack of advance notice...but I have to teach you properly, so here it is.”

As much as he hates missions, he is a very thorough individual. Every paper is neatly placed in front of you, a small semi-transparent differently coloured post-it at the corner of every folder, a way to categorise them depending on their function and who they should be delivered to in the office. You nod, trying to memorise number and use of said form, while Kusakabe lends you a pen. “Experience is the best teacher – he says, a small grin appearing on his lips – so I’ll let you do the honor” Another nod from you, while you put all the concentration you’re capable of into filling the form out. He snorts at your face, a smile tugging at he corners of his lips “Don’t worry, you’re not under exam.”

---

A couple of hours later and the atmosphere is far more relaxed, thanks to the majority of the papers being taken care of...and also to the couple of bottles of red wine you had brought from your country.

“There - you say, stretching and lying on the floor, since sitting on a chabudai for too long was something your body was still not that used to – should be the last one, right?” The wine in your system is not that much, you would not call yourself drunk right now, but it leaves a pleasant buzz throughout your whole body, your senses slightly enhanced by the alcohol. There’s also a pleasant warmth that radiates form you and, even if you’re wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you feel it slowly increasing. Turning your head towards him, you take the chance to glance at Kusakabe while he’s still preoccupied with checking papers: your gaze start from the hand on the floor he’s putting his weight on, then slowly trails up his hairy forearm (when did he took of his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up?!?), the slightly unbuttoned shirt, revealing just a hint of his also hairy chest…

“Yep, everything seems fine to me”

...his neck and jaw, idly moving whenever he turned his lollipop around in his mouth...(his neck and jaw that you explored oh so well in an half-drunk yet very aroused state after Ieiri’s birthday party...)

“Y/N?”

You snap out of your trance and meet his questioning gaze, the warmth inside of you making a sudden surge. But, somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed nor guilty. You never felt like that with him, always making you feel at ease, as if he was something solid, something certain that brings stability in the frenzy of life.

“Yes?”

“Are you drunk?”

A heartfelt laugh escapes your lips, while you pat the futon at your side, inviting him to join you on the floor. “No, just happy we finally finished all the boring stuff.” you answer, while he lies on his side near you, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting his head. You look up at him, trying to ignore the warmth that heavily radiates from his body as well.

“Thank you, Kusakabe-san” you murmur.

“Ah, I’ve already told you – he retorts, a small grimace on his features, while he takes the stick of his now finished lollipop out of his mouth – you can call me Atsuya.”

“Well, then... thank you, Atsuya.”

The way you say his given name is not even consciously intended, but it slips out of your lips nonetheless, taking down the raising heat by a couple degrees...but not in an unpleasant manner. Your own voice send a shiver down your spine, the way you said his name probably giving away way more than you had intended to, and you search his gaze, to see and assess how much damage you have done. His brown eyes are instantly locked into yours, a flick of hesitation already fleeting away to give space to...to… You don’t know how to describe what you see, you just feel the warmth of his body raising again and his already wide pupils taking over his irises completely, two dark pools you’re sure you’ll drown into, if you’re not careful. He doesn’t say anything, just exhales a tad too loudly than normal, while still not breaking eye-contact with you. His free hand slowly reaches for you and you don’t notice, still too enthralled by the soft, welcoming abyss of his eyes, until his fingertips brush against the exposed skin between your t-shirt and jeans, fingertips so hot they threaten to burn holes into your flesh, so hot they send another, more powerful this time, shiver up you spine. It’s your time now to exhale loudly, anticipation already making you squirm under his touch.

“Atsuya”

His name rolls out of your tongue another time, more shyly yet more pleading, a whisper that becomes a prayer on his ears and in his heart. How can he deny you, resist you anymore when you say his name oh so nicely? How can he find the strength to stop the both of you once again when you’re here, on his futon, looking up at him with that gaze, calling his name with that tone? How can he withdraw from your warmth? How can he suppress all that turmoil you cause in his heart every damn time he sees you?

He, simply, can’t.

So, finally, instead of fighting back what he now knows to be unbeatable, he surrender. He surrender himself to your smile that goes with your every “Good morning!”, he surrender himself to electricity that surges every time your hands brush by accident, he surrender himself to the optimism you sport every time you go on a mission together. He surrender himself to you, completely and undeniably.

The fingertips on your skin become a palm, sneaking under the hem of your t-shirt and gently caressing what’s underneath it. Your answer wants to be a soft gasp, but there’s no time for it to form before his lips descend on yours. The kiss is so sweet it is almost chaste, that first contact delivering all the feelings the both of you have tried to store away in the depths of your hearts, finally revealing what you have always been afraid to say. It feels liberating to finally let go, and you feel Kusakabe’s muscles relax in sync with yours, months of pining quickly dissolving from your bodies and souls.

One of your hand finds its way to his hair and gently tugs at it, with the result of making him part his lips and moan into your mouth, giving you the chance to deepen the kiss. The flavour of his lollipop floods your taste buds and you devour each other, almost like teenagers at their first shot at kissing, and your body already ask, no scream for so much more that you try to turn on your side to have a better position, but Kusakabe’s hand keeps you firmly in place. He pulls away just enough to look at you “Please, let me…” he murmurs against your lips. And in his tone there’s a plea that sink right into your heart and turns it into jelly. Replying with a nod you let yourself relax again on the futon, while his hand lifts your shirt all the way up, leaving your flushed chest exposed to him. He takes a moment to feel your erratic beating heart, palm pressed right in the middle of your chest, before resuming his exploration of your skin.

Despite the callousness of his hands, his touch is gentle, almost feather-like. Fingertips lightly brush against your skin, trailing around your nipples, but never touching them, down towards your navel, to your hips, up your sides. No haste nor hurry, but taking their damn time into exploring every inch of you, as if they were explorers into territory unknown to mankind up until now. They then skim just above the hem of your jeans, goosebumps now covering the entirety of your body, while his mouth descends to leave warm kisses on your chest. They are almost shy at first, sealed lips barely touching your skin, but as soon as your hand find its place in his hair again, they become more bold, tongue poking out to wet the path.

It takes a few minutes of kisses placed with utter adoration all over your exposed body, before Kusakabe muster the courage to latch on one of your nipples. And when he does, you start to sing. A moan finally fall freely from your parted lips, your body arching into his touch, craving him not only there, but everywhere on your burning body. Your free hand joins the other and entangles itself in his brown locks, instinctively squeezing every time you feel his teeth grazing against your sensitive flesh and receiving a pleased grunt from him in exchange.

There’s a trickle of saliva connecting your nipple to his tongue when he parts from you, and you look at it glimmering in the room’s light, almost enraptured by the vision, before your attention is diverted from it by the man’s hand. Slowly, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, his gaze fixated on you and, as you reciprocate his look, the thought that crosses your mind is that he’s insanely handsome. A blush covers the majority of his face and the tips of his ears, his hair is ruffled by all of your toying, and in his eyes you can see the real feeling he always nurtured for you.

Warm fingers slip past the waistband of your panties and push the clothes down enough your tights to leave your core exposed, the sudden chill air against you heated skin sending a shiver up your spine. Cupping his face with your hands, you kiss Kusakabe deeply, pulling him closer to you, while his fingers start to roam your tight like they previously did on your chest. Your focus shifts from his mouth to his neck (god how you missed it) and you unbutton his shirt, trying to spur him, but his touches are painstakingly slow, fingers too far away from where you wanted them most. Undaunted, you continue your attack, tongue tracing pathways of pleasure into his skin, teeth scarping and sinking, lips comforting and eliciting.

Circles are drawn on the canvas of your skin, smaller and smaller, until he finally reaches your cunt and you start to loose track of time, his fingers teasing your folds but never entering, caresses on your clit that never turns into that something more enough for you to finally cum. Squirming and whimpering through the sweet anguish he persists in doing, yet you hear the first signs of capitulations in his own grunts and moans.

Yet he persists.

Yet he persists.

Yet he persists.

Your breaths are hot and short against each other, the temperature of both your bodies so high now you might have a fever. Your face nuzzle in the crook of his neck, his ministration starting to make you see stars in your vision, while you desperately cling to his now exposed chest, hair soft under your touch.

“A-atsuya...p-pleeease…”

Deft fingers continue to caress your sex, eliciting a new series of moans and cries out of your mouth, his tongue trailing from your ear down your neck, leaving the skin burning in its wake. And you know that, if he continues to torture you like that, it’s no long before you come undone under him. So, with the last remnants of your will, the leg trapped in between his tries to grind against his hard, still clothed, cock, while one of your hand tries to get a hold of his forearm, in a futile attempt to slow him down or hurry him up, you’re not even sure of what you want to do anymore. You just now that you will not resist a second more.

As if he reads your mind, Kusakabe finally finally push a finger past your folds and inside your aching pussy, your lewd cry of pleasure making his dick throb in his pants. There’s no need for a second digit, as your orgasm hits you suddenly and violently, leaving you shaking so bad you cling to him for dear life.

You stay like that for a couple of minutes, but as soon as the shivers start to subside, you look up at him “Need you...inside...pl-please…” is all you manage to say in between your broken breaths. A soft kiss on your temple “Are you sure?”

Just a nod from you and he’s unbuckling his pants, letting his cock finally free. Impatient hands pull him closer and he’s already lined up to your entrance and ready, but he takes his time to smile down and then softly kiss you, before entering in one go in your wet hole. It’s your turn now to moan into his mouth, while he hooks your legs over his arms, a mating press the best way to deal with all the too many clothes you two still wear.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your peaks, pent-up as you are, moans and cries being swallowed into hungry kisses, bodies trembling in unison. And as your breath slowly come back to normal and you both descend from your high, the way Kusakabe embraces you tells you everything you wanted to hear from him.

[astriiformes]

hiii! im a 17 y/o applying to college, but i have no idea what i want to major in/do with my life. im interested in math and science but also history and stuff. any advice?

Oh I am. An interesting person to ask this question considering I have changed my major multiple times (partly due to switching schools) and am now doing something a bit weird.

I suppose the first thing to mention is if you really aren't sure what you want to do in the future, there are options other than college and there's no shame in taking a gap year or two in order to figure out if it's actually the path you want to take. However! It sounds a bit like you are at least interested in the idea of college, and also that's where my own experience lies, so I'll offer what I can. Just definitely keep in mind there are other routes, if it doesn't end up fitting.

Honestly my biggest piece of advice to anyone looking at colleges is to dig into what actual courses are offered at the schools you're looking at. The same degree at one school can vary significantly from ones at another school, and getting some idea of if the specific classes that are a part of a given program are interesting to you can prevent a lot of heartache in the long run. I did not do this with the first college I attended, and found out the hard way that their program was really heavy on classes that I was less interested in and struggled with more. Which was frustrating.

As for narrowing down what you specifically want to major in, keep in mind that you don't necessarily have to. Like, you do have to pick a program, but interdisciplinary degrees and even build-your-own degrees like the one I'm currently doing are becoming increasingly popular, and there are ways to spin having disparate interests into something unique where you can really succeed.

When I started college, at my first university, I was doing a general Biology degree. Then I transferred to a school where you could pick slightly different concentrations in Biology, and did part of a degree in Biology, but with a concentration in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology. Then I took a break for about four years, because college was not working for me. When I picked it up again, at yet another school, I started with an interdisciplinary degree in Biology, Society, and Environment--still fairly Biology-heavy, but with an added focus in the humanities surrounding science . Eventually I abandoned the framework of structured degrees entirely, and am now finishing college doing a Bachelor's of Individualized Studies, which is a degree program my school offers where you essentially pick three minors and build your own degree out of them. (Mine are Biology, History of Science, and Cultural Studies & Comparative Literatures)

I hope that illustrates a couple things. One--you are not locked in to your first choice, and in fact may figure out what you want to do partly by dabbling in some other things first. And two--there are lots of different flavors of studying even some of the same subjects that vary from degree to degree and school to school. Look into some of the weirder options that are out there that might let you combine multiple passions for sure!

If you're specifically interested in a degree that blends the sciences and the humanities, some keywords that might be useful to you are looking up schools with programs in Science and Technology Studies (or STS), History of Science, or Philosophy of Science programs. Even if they don't offer Bachelor's in them (sometimes those are restricted to grad degrees), they may offer minors or concentration options, or be something you could work into an individualized degree if your school has a program for those, and at the very least may have classes you could take in those subjects even if you have to do a slightly different degree to dabble in them.

Best of luck with your searching and applications! I hope all this rambling can at least be of some use to you.

[novankenn]

the Nephokinetic

(Users can utilize vapor in combat, whether it be releasing waves of mist to disorientate their opponents or conceal themselves in order to land sneak attacks, or using vapor to create weapons or having it accompany the user's own attacks.)

RPV was a man down. Jaune Arc their former leader having vanished one night, for no discernable reason, at least to them. So after missing the 40th Vytal Festival due to being a member short, the trio moved into their second year... proving their ability to cope and move forward, despite their disadvantage.

/==/

Pyrrha, Ren and Nora disembarked the bullhead. The small village they were sent to inspect, had no landing pad so the vehicle had to land in a nearby prepared area. Behind them Professor Peach stepped off. It was a second year supervised inspection mission.

The goal of the exercise was to teach the students how to see the strengths and weaknesses in a settlement or hamlet's defensive structures. To help them in those times they were dispatched to protect a settlement how to best utilize the resources at hand.

Their approved site was Fort Vale. A heavily fortified community was situated near the coast to the east of Vale proper, however for some reason while on route the destination was changed to their current location. A small unnamed village of maybe a dozen families or so, protected by a stout wooden palisade, and a few automated sentry turrets.

Peach knew at one glance the place was a death trap. Any serious Bandit or Grimm assault and the place would fold like a house of cards. Yet Peach was also aware of the side objective. There was someone of interest to Ozpin in the area... and she and her charges were the closet available team. Even if team RPV was a member short.

The trio of students lead by Professor Peach closed upon the sturdy-looking main gate. Showing her ID she and her charges were quickly allowed entry. Once past the gate Peach turned to face RPV.

"Now. I want you all to wander about. Take you time. We'll meet back at the gate in a hour." Peach let her eyes glid over the three young adults. "Pay close attention, and when we get back together I want to know from each of you what is good about these defenses... and what is bad. Any questions?"

Ren raised his hand.

"Mr Ren?"

"I thought we were supposed to be inspecting Fort Vale? Is there a reason for..." Ren didn't finish but looked around. The statement was however made.

"It was changed mid-route." Professor Peach informed the trio. "But the assignment is still the same and what you see and deduce here is applicable in other places. Any further questions?"

Pyrrha and Nora remained silent.

"Very well get to it. I'm going to have a chat with whomever is in charge of this place."

It took a little prodding and about twenty minutes but soon Peach found herself leaning against the counter of the General Store, speaking to the proprietor, who just happened to also be the woman in charge of the small settlement.

"So what brings Beacon out here?" the woman named Brittany Birch. "Should I be telling people to start packing?"

"No. It's an inspection exercise, and in fact I was going to ask you if there was a reason for us to actually be here instead of Fort Vale?"

"Well I can tell you we've not put in a call in for Huntsmen." Brittany replied, "No real need once the young fella showed up."

"Young fellow?"

"Yeah, young guy, was just wandering the road. Arrive about three weeks ago. Good thing too..."

"Why?"

"Had a small grimm incursion happen a couple days later." Brittany relayed, "Bad for us too. Pushed our defenses all most to the bring..."

"How big of a group?"

"One or two dozen." Brittany replied, "Nothing a larger settlement couldn't handle, but as you can see... we're still just scraping by."

"Well I assume you made it through... you're still here, obviously."

"Well it was because of the kid." Brittany informed Peach, "Without him we would have been over run."

"Was he that strong a fighter? Up to two dozen grimm is still a task to handle by one person." Peach commented, "Or did he have a strong semblance?"

"Well I'll say this... It was something else."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really know how to explain it... but the kid used the grimm's own bodies against each other..."

"That makes no sense. Did he control a grimm and make it attack the others?"

"No... you know how a grimm evaporate after dying?"

"Yes."

"Somehow he manipulated that... used it against the pack. I mean it was seriously disturbing... the more grimm that went down, the more powerful and plentiful his attacks and defenses were..."

Peach stood there in silence, her lips pressed together. What the head-woman was speaking off... was impossible. Someone capable of using the essence of grimm as a weapon? There had to be more to it.

"Is this... individual still in the community?" Peach inquired. "I would like to speak with them... if I could."

"He should be. For all his help I put him up at my house. He's got a room in the attic. Private, warm and safe."

The incessant and rapid ringing of an bell sounded in the distance.

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 2: Toccoa, Georgia (The Prophecy)—A Band of Brothers Fanfic

A/N: I am so so so so SO sorry this is out late. This past week was super hectic! I hope that you really enjoy the chapter. I did my best to make it my own and different from other beginnings of BoB that I've seen, so you'll have to let me know what you think! Also, as a side note—I did, in fact, live in Toccoa area for 13 weeks a couple years back, so I actually do love that place!

Winnie could say that she had never been to Toccoa Georgia for any reason in her short lifetime and would probably have no desire to ever return. Though there wasn’t any snow on the ground here, it was just as gloomy as the rest of Georgia was in the winter months.  Everywhere she looked, there were men in uniforms and people bustling towards the wartime factories that had popped up.  

Her arrival at Camp Toccoa was a rather quiet affair, and so there she sat in a wooden chair inside a small waiting area.  Occasionally, Winnie glanced over at the precipitation building on the windows.  When she was a kid, she had long periods of waiting like this one—where her father was in jail or at some bar and she would just wait for him to come back home. 

It would usually rain—and considering how the weather in Georgia changed as quickly as a summer breeze, Winnie had taken to counting droplets of water as a way to keep her focus on something that she could control. 

The simple fact of the matter was that Winnie had precious little control over a lot of the circumstances in her life.  But the things that she did have control over, she kept those things close to her chest; clung to them like they were her most precious possessions and no one would ever come close enough to take that freedom of control away from her again. 

She clicked her heeled shoes together exactly once, eyes straying to the scuff marks on her simple church shoes.  She wondered how her brothers were all faring in their training at the moment.  If they were all coping with the reality of what war would be—if they were prepared to go and be on their own. 

Richie wasn’t the one she was worried about.  He was two years younger than her and was always rather serious.  He worked harder than anyone else that she knew and wasn’t one to get distracted by a pretty face or lofty promises.  Any day now, he’d be shipping out to go to the Pacific as a Marine and it made her truthfully want to follow him all the way down there and have his back with a gun herself.  

They were Allens.  And they trusted themselves and one another.  No one else outside of their circle of siblings had proven to be someone that they would trust their lives with.  But Winnie knew that they would never allow a doctor—and a female one, at that—to go down to the Pacific and be a part of the carnage and horrors there. 

Robbie was in the same boat, proverbially speaking of course, as Richie.  Set to go to the Pacific in a few weeks.  He was always so quiet and watchful.  Winnie hoped that it would serve him well to be on his guard and pick up on the things that the other soldiers wouldn't notice.  They had yelled a lot back and forth before he had enlisted—she had told him to finish his degree and go into the JAG-Corp.  He had told her to go to hell—which he had tearfully apologized for when she dropped him off at the train station.  

Winnie stretched out her fingers over her lap, letting out a breath.  It had been nearly thirty minutes of waiting to be allowed to see the Colonel—and this was just for him to review her application to join the Paratroopers as a Doctor and training officer for his medics.  She wished that the level of urgency the war truly had would transfer over to her wait time. 

Because if she needed to haul everything back to Buford, Winnie would almost certainly rather pick up and move to the Carolinas and try to sign up for a different branch of the military that would, in fact, utilize her. She hated being idle—hated being alone, even more than that.  

The younger three boys were the ones that needed supervision—needed all the prayers of the good congregation of Buford’s Christian Non-Denominational Church.  Nathan was the first problem in Winnie’s pleas to God.  That boy had been raised wolf-wild by herself and Richie and Robbie.  They hadn’t been much, but they had had each other.  He was always picking a fight with an older boy—and she could only hope that this whole army experience was going to straighten him out.   

Then there was Joshua, also set to end up in the Pacific as a medic.  That had granted her a degree of peace, knowing that his evenings helping her study for school were going to come in handy where he was going.  It might, in fact, just be the thing that ends up saving his life.  

But Charlie? Charlie was, in every sense of the word, hers.  She had raised him from the time of his infancy and so to Winnie Allen, Charlie was her child.  Currently, he was in Texas and Winnie had never been more grateful for the fact that the Air Force programs were long.  She would take those 9 months like a sacred gift from God that he wouldn’t be anywhere near the fighting—at least for a short while. 

And then there was her.  Just her—with no idea where she’d end up, with no clue what her side of the war would entail.  Which of course, would be typical of her life thus far. 

Just then, the door opened and a man stepped inside, clipboard in hand.  “Dr. Allen?” 

“That’d be me,” Winnie said, rising to her feet. 

The man piqued an eyebrow, but said nothing about the fact that she was a woman.  He just let out a weary sigh and gestured towards the door with his head.  “If you’d follow me, ma’am.” 

Of course, a moment ago she was Doctor, and now she was ma’am.  God, she loathed the South.  

Winnie obliged, following after the man with quick steps.  As they crossed out of the building and onto a dirt path, Winnie caught sight of some of the trainees—some of them in the field and doing jumping jacks in the field, some of them running towards a trail through the trees.  There weren’t too many of them at the moment, but that didn’t deter Winnie in any way. 

“Are these the officers that are in training?” Winnie questioned, speeding up her stride to match the man in front of her. 

He let out an annoyed breath.  “You catch on quick.  Sink will like that.  Though I can’t account for how he’ll feel about a woman applying to train our medics.” 

“I’m a trauma surgeon and doctor.  I think my credentials speak for themselves,” Winnie retorted dryly. 

No response from the officer this time, just a huff of air as he came to a stop in front of one of the buildings on the camp.  “Wait here, please.” 

Winnie just crossed her arms and waited patiently, inhaling the cool air.  Not even thirty seconds later, the man had returned and gestured for her to enter the room.  Winnie was grateful for the slight reprieve from the cold air as she entered the room.  And there, sitting in a chair and smoking a cigar, was Colonel Sink. 

“If you’d please take a seat, Doctor Allen,” he gestured at the seat across from his desk with his cigar.  Usually quick to follow orders, Winnie slid into the seat, looking at Colonel Sink expectantly.  It was another moment of silence before Colonel Sink set down his cigar and fully looked at her.  “I’ll be honest, we don’t see too many female doctors come through the military.” 

“I expect you’d see more nurses, sir.” 

“Damn right, we do,” Sink stated.  “This whole war—unpleasant business, not really meant for women.” 

“If I can speak freely, sir?” 

“I’d be appreciative of the honesty, if you did.” 

“You’re right, it’s unpleasant.  But those women are still going to bury husbands, sons, brothers, and fathers.  It affects them just as much as it does the men.” 

“I can’t say I disagree.  Your point?” 

“I’m not a married woman.  I’m a trauma surgeon and head of the trauma department in Buford General.  I was the top of my class and as it so happens, I don’t have any children or brothers—they’re all off in training to fight in this war.  I don’t particularly like sitting on my ass or fancy myself a factory worker.  But I can help you train damn good medics, sir.” 

Sink stared at her for a long time.  His gaze reminded her a lot of her mentor’s, from back in college.  He was always trying to figure out her angles too.  Trying to figure out if she was as good as she claimed to be. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Allen.  We’ve got hundreds—thousands—of men coming in the next few months to train to be paratroopers.  Now I want them to be the best of the best.  And if I want them to survive more than five minutes over there, then that means I also need the best of the best doctors to train my medics.  So I’ll concede to your point.  Your application was good—I’m a self-made man myself and I respect that work.” 

“Sir?” 

“But I’ll also be honest with you.  This isn’t going to be pretty.  It’s going to be bloody and long and tiring.  This isn’t the type of place where you can just escape from whatever life you don’t want to live.  At some point, you might be elbows deep in some man’s guts and I need someone unflinching.” 

“October 27th.” 

“Pardon?” 

Winnie shifted in her seat, leaning forward.  “October 27th, a man and his two daughters are brought into Buford General.  Automobile accident.  The man flung his arm in front of his daughter sitting in the passenger seat.  His arm was hanging by a few strands of muscles and he was going to bleed out.  Now the daughter in the passenger seat got impaled by a fence post—it went straight through her stomach.  The daughter in the back was flung through the car and landed 15 feet ahead.” 

“That’s both gruesome and tragic.   Your point being?” 

“I was the surgeon on call that night.  I triaged.  I assessed.  I delegated.  The father lost his arm but he kept his life.  The daughter who flew through the car wasn’t going to make it.  She was 11.  We were short-handed and I had to tell the nurse assisting me that the little girl wasn’t going to make it and that she needed to focus on the other one.  So she did.  We lost the one—but she was mostly gone by the time she had arrived,” Winnie stated.  “My point here is that I can give your men skills that they won’t get anywhere otherwise.  Real life experience teaching practical application of the skills.  Triaging, assessing, not hesitating in doing the work and saving lives.” 

Sink leaned forward in his seat.  “You’d be hard on them?” 

“I’d be brutal. Because that is exactly what they are going to face out there.” 

“You be the hard-ass doctor that trains my medics, then.  But if you’re gonna be here, then you’re gonna train like my men train.” 

“I’m not a fragile southern belle like Melanie Hamilton, sir.” 

“No, I imagine you’re not.  I’ll give you two nurses to assist with actual injuries on base—and based on performance, you and them might just end up traveling with us wherever we end up.” 

“Sir?” 

“What?” 

“Thank you for letting me advocate my case.  I won’t let you down.” 

“You sure as hell better not.  Or lots of good men are going to die and that’s going to be on your shoulders.” 

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

Within the first hour of being there, Winnie had selected her nurses from the pile of applications.  It hadn’t been that hard of a choice to begin with—some were just practical eliminations, and the rest were a careful read-through of letters they had sent in along with the application.  

Reba Garrett and Eileen Gray were the two chosen candidates that she had landed on.  Reba was from New England and had been working as a nurse for well over five years now, placing her as one of the older and more experienced women applying for the position.  But it wasn’t her experience that attracted Winnie’s attention—it was the letter, and the way in which she described wanting to do some real good in the war and that started with saving lives rather than ending them. 

That sounded exactly like the type of person that Winnie wanted to have on her side.  

Eileen, on the other hand, was from Savannah, Georgia.  While her experience time of only two years wasn’t quite as well-established as Reba’s was, it was the picture that she had included of her brother that caught Winnie’s attention.  Eileen’s brother had been stationed in Pearl and he had been one of the many men to be immortalized under the ocean there. 

That gave her motivation, it gave her righteous anger—and in Winnie’s eyes, it was exactly the sort of thing that God would do—place Eileen in her path to ensure that justice was seen. 

So Winnie penned her first letters to the two women that would soon be joining her here in Toccoa.  And then she took those resumes straight to Colonel Sink—who wholeheartedly approved of the decision, though it was made in haste.  Just another reason for him to see her as a capable doctor—as someone he could trust. 

And in two weeks time, Eileen Gray and Reba Garrett would be joining her at Camp Toccoa.  In the meantime though, Winnie’s own training was set to begin.  And she’d be damned if she let herself be torn down by any man—her superior officer or not.  She was determined to earn her place amongst the men here—and earn their respect.  Consequences be damned. 

[jasper-book-stash]

June-August 2024 Reading Wrap-Up

Hey, sorry for disappearing off of the face of Tumblr for uhhhh three months, but I read twelve books in that time and I'm here to complain.

Religious Text

None applicable.

1/10 - Why Did They Publish This?

Moonbeams and Ashes: Tales of Mystery, Love, and the Paranormal | Margarite Stever

I picked this up from some bookstore here in Missouri under the local authors shelf. I wish I hadn't. These stories were all poorly written, and a good chunk had nothing to do with mystery, love, OR the paranormal. They weren't even bad in the fun way.

2/10 - Trash

None applicable.

3/10 - Meh

My Mother Road | Phyllis York

I picked this up from some OTHER bookstore here in Missouri under the local authors shelf. I wished this book had ended 480 pages sooner. The only highlight was at the end when the grandpa physically kicked a guy off of the porch.

Athena's Child | Hannah Lynn

A Greek myth "retelling" centering around Medusa and intercut with Perseus. It...was just mediocre. There wasn't anything interesting about what it did or changed or told, there was no taking the myth and running in a new direction with it, and worse of all we opted for the Ovid's Metamorphoses route but still used the Greek names for the gods.

4 to 6/10 - Mid-Tier

Crossword Poems, volumes 1 and 2 | Robert Norton

Two itty-bitty volumes covering what were apparently once commonly-known poems that you'd be able to remember based on half of the hint. Decent enough stuff, just kinda boring without that historical note.

Shelling Peanuts and Other Odd Odes | Howard Nelson

Another collection of poems that were ultimately mediocre with a few funny or insightful ones. Not bad, just not especially good either.

Songs of Honour | Noble House Publishers

These were, on the whole, better than the other two, but I knocked it down to 6/10 based on the fact that it took me the entire month of July and a third of August to finish. The formatting was lovely and each poem only took a page, but it was ultimately just "good-to-mediocre" on the whole.

7 to 8/10 - Good With Caveats

Outlaw: Champions of Kamigawa | Scott McGough Heretic: Betrayers of Kamigawa | Scott McGough Guardian: Saviors of Kamigawa | Scott McGough

While I personally listed Guardian as a 9/10, I figured I should keep the entire Kamigawa Cycle together. This is the story of Toshiro Umezawa, everyone's favorite fuckup self-centered protagonist dealing with the consequences of his and everyone else's actions. There were a couple times when something was referenced that didn't make sense in the setting (such as angels, Hell, or pixies), and you can definitely feel the "early 2000s white man writing a Japanese setting based on vibes alone" emanating from most of the pages, but I had a good time calling Toshi a dumbfuck over and over again.

9/10 - Very Very Good

None applicable (besides aforementioned Guardian).

10/10 - Unironically Recommend To Everyone

The Tale of Despereaux | Kate DiCamillo

In my book club, we randomly pulled this one as the one for all of us to read at the same time, and let me tell you, this book hits different when you're a queer young adult in your early twenties than it clearly hit the grown women in their 50+'s. Great book, absolutely adorable, and I love the fact that we accidentally timed it to coincide with the release of Bloomburrow.

Scaredy Squirrel: In a Nutshell | Melanie Watt

Yes, this is an Easy-level book. But somehow, this squirrel with anxiety and possibly OCD (yes, I'm projecting slightly, I kept going "he's just like me for real" aloud when I read it) is now one of my favorite fictional guys. And when he was having a meltdown, the other characters actually gave him space and respected his boundaries. Do you know how impossible that is to find in fiction? One of my favorite books now, hands down.