#but i gotta stop and smell the flowers sometimes

[thehardkandy]

Today was a pretty good day at work all said and done (especially because I made sure to have lunch and drink fluids!)

Things are still running well so far, and more congrats/compliments on the new feature came in. particularly boss stopped to let me know that person who sent compliments today was like. the most respected person at the company, ahead of ceo/coo. so! that's very nice

it is a fun experience to have people that like. respect my work. it's not that it didnt happen before, but especially for something i had so much control over (which is to say, engineering the dang thing) rather than just stuff i did cause it was the job. having fun at work AND being respected for it. what a world!

[rhettabbotts]

baby, if you only knew - dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: tensions boil over and everything changes for you and rhett one night at a rancher’s event you attend.

w/c: 5.4k (she’s a mammoth)

warnings: 18+ only. smut. age gap (babysitter 20s, rhett 40s). dirty talk. making out in an elevator. daddy kink. possessive rhett. slightly rough sex. cunnilingus. hair pulling. overstimulation. size kink. aftercare. rhett’s grey hair. some fluff.

a/n: i can see you by taylor swift is to blame for this. enjoy the filth! also couldn’t stop myself from adding some babysitter lore. also see green, green dress from tick, tick…boom! for the dress reference!

Six months. Six long, tortuous months of working under Rhett Abbott’s roof.

Okay, it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be in your head. His daughters were angels, and you appreciated that he worked with your school schedule as you attended your graduate program. And he let you live in his guest room rent free.

But it was sweet torture. You had fallen hard for the single father of two and it made every day even harder than the last. Rhett was a wonderful man, an attentive father, and a hell of a cook. A hard worker and he was so handsome, you could hardly breathe around him. Who wouldn’t fall in love with the cowboy?

You tried everything in the world to rid your thoughts of him, but you were highly unsuccessful. And he only did things that made it worse. Every time you brushed by him in the halls it felt like electricity coursed through your entire body. He had to feel it too, right?

Delusional. That’s what you were. You were the babysitter. Nothing more. Eventually, the girls would grow up and you wouldn’t be needed anymore. And that thought caused your chest to tighten painfully.

What a thought to have while washing the dishes. You heard your name but it sounded far off, like your ears were full of cotton.

“Tilly, come quick!” Grace shouted once more to get your attention. It made you turn abruptly, soap suds went flying as you dropped the ceramic pot you were washing. “Sorry,” she mumbled when you glared slightly at her.

“What’s wrong, Gracie?” you questioned as you wiped your hands off with the flower embroidered kitchen towel. Something you bought and put out to leave your own touch on this place.

“Oh. Nothing. Ellie just wanted to show you that we won our game.” The girls had been obsessed with Super Mario Brothers and had been playing it for days.

“That’s great guys! How about we take a break and you help me get dinner started?”

“Can we have ice cream for dessert?” Ellie, Rhett’s younger daughter pouted, bright blue eyes pleading. She and Grace were the carbon copies of Rhett. Same eyes, same nose, same crooked smile. You could never say no to them.

“Of course. But don’t tell your dad,” you whispered, placing your finger to your lips like it was a top secret.

The girls helped you finish the food just as Rhett came in from another long day of herding and branding cattle. He was dusty, covered in dirt and sweat and tendrils of his hair stuck to his forehead, the ends curling up. You wanted to run your fingers through it, sweat be damned.

“Daddy!” “Daddy, look at what we made!”

The girls ran towards Rhett, pausing when they got close enough to smell him.

“You stink,” Grace commented flatly.

“Thanks. Love you too. Listen, I’m gonna go shower and I’ll be down in a bit. You all can start without me,” Rhett said as he kicked his boots off by the door and took the stairs two at a time. “Oh, and Tilly?” He called from the upstairs landing.

“Yeah?”

“I gotta ask you something later. Don’t let me forget.”

You just nodded, stomach turning at the thought of what it could be.

Grace and Ellie helped you set the table, always eager to follow your every move. It makes you smile. Sometimes you felt like an actual family. And then you had to bring yourself back to reality. Just the nanny. Nothing more. Dinner was quiet, everyone was hungry and occupied with getting their bellies full.

You were resting on the couch as Rhett finished bath and bed time with the girls, trying to read your latest book but your mind was going a thousand miles a minute. Your heart started to beat faster as you heard Rhett descend down the stairs.

Rhett took himself to the kitchen, busying himself by pouring a glass of whiskey. A bottle you bought for him for Christmas the year prior. You peeked at him over the top of your book, watching his back muscles flex in the tight black tee he wore. Your mouth watered at the sight of his strong arms and his soft stomach as he turned to face you.

You quickly raised the book above your eyes, fearing that you had been caught staring. You missed Rhett’s knowing smirk.

“Move over,” Rhett poked at the bottom of your foot, the motion tickling you ever so slightly and causing you to jerk your leg towards you. “What are you reading? New dirty novel?” He teased.

“No…” you said quietly, a little shamefully.

“Liar. Is this one better than the last at least?”

“So far. Hey, what did you want to ask me earlier?” You stretched your legs back out and they landed in Rhett’s lap. He didn’t seem to mind. His unoccupied hand landed on your shin, calloused thumb lightly brushing the bone there. Your mind went blank and you could hear nothing but static in your ears.

“I got invited to this rancher’s event. They want me to give a speech. Stupid, but I agreed. And I… I need a plus one. And I figured maybe if you wanted to-“

“Yes!” You said eagerly, spine straightening. “I mean- sorry- go ahead…” Your cheeks felt hot at your abruptness. He was probably going to ask you to set him up with someone. Probably Lisa, Ellie’s dance teacher. She always had her eye on him.

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me. Give you a break. It’s the weekend my parents wanted to take the girls camping. That is.. if you didn’t have any plans…”

Rhett sounded nervous. He was looking down at where his hand rested on your leg, avoiding all eye contact.

“Oh. Yeah. I don’t have anything going on. I’ll go with you. As-“

“Friends, of course.”

“Right. Friends. What’s the dress code?” You asked, heart sinking slightly.

“Black tie,” Rhett grumbled. He hated dressing up. If he can’t wear flannel, he doesn’t want to be there.

“Perfect. I’ll find a dress to wear.”

“Well. I’ll leave you to the reading. Goodnight, Tilly.” Rhett tapped your leg a couple of times before moving you so he could stand.

You sighed deeply as he left the room, trying to ignore the gut wrenching feeling you had at his response. You couldn’t focus on your book and you eventually went upstairs to attempt to sleep.

“I want you so bad,” Rhett growled against your neck, teeth sinking into your skin causing you to whimper and arch against him. His leg was in between yours, keeping your thighs separated and your barely covered cunt brush against his suit pants. “You’re fucking soaked, sweet girl. You’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”

“Rhett, please!” You whined pathetically, grinding down on his thigh, searching for any sort of relief.

“Beg for it, baby. Beg for daddy. Tell me what you want.” Rhett said, voice low and gravelly. He pressed you into the wall harder, flexing his thigh as you keened. “I know you want me to fu-“

“Tillyyyyyy, wake uppppp,” a tiny voice called from the other side of the door. Your eyes shot open so fast it made your head spin. Your entire body was hot even though you just had the sheet covering you and the ceiling fan was on. You were having a dream about Rhett. A fucking wet dream. And now Ellie was yelling at you in the hallway. You felt like you were being punished.

You checked your phone. 5:37am. Jesus, why was she awake?

“I’m up, El. Hold your horses.” You went to the en-suite bathroom to splash cold water on your face. “Get yourself together. Now,” you said through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at yourself in the mirror.

The four-year-old stood outside your door with her stuffed horse tucked under her arms. Her eyes were a little red and she was sniffling.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I feel sick,” she whispered weakly, clutching the horse to her chest tighter.

“Come on, bug. I’ll get you some medicine.”

You picked her up and perched her on your hip as you carried her down the stairs. Her forehead felt a little warm. She sat patiently on the counter while you poured the medicine in the little cup and you rubbed her back as she swallowed it.

“Good job, El! I’m proud of you. Here, drink some water and let’s get you back to bed, okay?”

She nodded as she took a big gulp of water from her sippy cup. You trotted back up the stairs, bouncing her slightly to make her giggle.

“Alright, you got your water here and Honey is right here with you. Try to get some sleep, bug. I’ll fix pancakes when you wake up.” You tucked Ellie in, kissing her forehead before you stood up.

Her eyes were already heavy and she mumbled something you couldn’t hear.

“What was that?”

“Luh you, mama.” She repeated sleepily, snuggling her horse and then started snoring softly immediately.

“Oh… I- I love you too, bug.”

You didn’t know how to react. She had never called you that before and it made your eyes misty with tears. You couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after the dream and not after Ellie calling you mama.

The next few hours went by in a blur. You had planned to go shopping with your friend Tabitha to find your dress for the dinner. After dropping the girls off at school, you met Tabitha at the mall. You were in a daze, barely listening to her rant about her latest failed Tinder date.

“Hellooooo,” she snapped her fingers in front of your face. “Are you even listening?”

“Yeah, sorry. No, I’m just- I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sighed as you placed your face in your hands.

“What do you mean?”

“With Rhett! It’s like- why am I going to this dinner? Why do I keep torturing myself? And Ellie! She called me her mom this morning! I want a family and I feel like I have it but it’s not really mine, you know?”

“You need to get laid. That’s what you need,” Tabitha said nonchalantly. She looked through the dresses on the rack in the store you were in. “Oh. My. God. This. This dress. Go try it on. NOW!”

She shoved a velvet dress into your arms and pushed you towards the fitting rooms. It was a deep green color, the fabric felt soft against your skin. It wasn’t a dress you would pick out for yourself but once you slid it over your head your jaw dropped at the sight in the mirror.

The bodice was a corset type, something you didn’t typically reach for but was pleasantly surprised at how it looked on you. The dress was form fitting but not uncomfortably so. The strap tied around your neck, lifting your chest and displaying the tops of your breasts tastefully.

The dress hugged your every curve, accentuating parts of your body you weren’t necessarily happy with, but now you felt sexy. Powerful. You opened the door and called for Tabitha. She came running with a few other options in her hands but her reaction matched your own as she laid eyes on you.

“Holy fuck. Yeah, no, forget these. You have to get that one. If he doesn’t fuck you, I will.”

You rolled her eyes at her antics and looked into the mirror once more. You felt so beautiful in the dress. It made you a little giddy at the thought of Rhett’s reaction. If he even had one. You tried to shake the negative thought away. If he didn’t appreciate it, someone else would. Maybe a nice cowboy who’d be down for a one night stand at a fancy hotel.

The week passed by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Rhett was packing the girls’ bags for their camping trip and was shouting up at you that he was going to pick up his suit in town from the tailor’s.

You took your time styling your hair the way you liked and you did your makeup, keeping it light but putting on a red lip. Just to be a little bold.

You hid in your room until you heard Rhett finish getting ready and head down the stairs.

“Tilly, you ready? We should leave so-“ Rhett stopped as he turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the wood. “Wow…” he breathed. “You look, ehem, you look nice. That’s a pretty dress.” He fiddled with his cuff links, avoiding eye contact.

“Thank you,” you responded shyly. He held his arm out to escort you to the black pickup truck. The ride was silent except for the radio and the hum of the engine. You couldn’t stop from looking to Rhett. His hair was slicked back, the gray hair looked more prominent. His temples were nearly white. He had a shadow of stubble on his jaw and his suit fit him in all the right places.

You pulled up to a beautiful hotel. It was a grand building, accents of gold sparkled in the setting sun and gorgeous flowers lined the walkways. Rows of trucks indicated that you were at the right place. And the men in bolo ties and cowboy hats gave it away.

Rhett forwent his Stetson and chose a sleek black tie, looking a little out of place but you thought he looked beautiful.

He parked and inhaled deeply, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and closing his eyes.

“Everything okay?” You questioned, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his forearm.

“Huh? Yeah. M’good. Just nervous. I can’t stand half the people in that room,” he mumbled, smiling softly at you. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You’ll do great. I can fake an emergency if needed.”

“Fall down the stairs if I give you a look,” Rhett joked.

“You got it, boss,” you winked at him. You reached for the door handle, preparing to get out of the truck but his hand on your arm now stopped you.

“Wait… I have something for you. A token of appreciation for coming with me. Also, an early birthday present.”

Rhett pulled a long, rectangular box from the side of the door. He opened it to show a diamond bracelet.

“Rhett- that’s- I can’t-“ You couldn’t stop from reaching out and running your fingers along the jewels.

“You deserve it. You work so hard and I don’t say it enough but you mean a lot to me. To the girls. Just wanted to give you something nice,” he said, voice a little shaky.

Something shifted as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. His touch lingered on your skin and it was hard for you to breathe. You tried so hard to keep things professional, but it’s changed. Everything has changed in the cab of Rhett’s truck.

You headed inside, arm linked with Rhett’s as he greeted the people inside. He was so charismatic, putting on a face you’d never seen before. It was sexy. He was controlling the room. Everyone loved him.

You could feel eyes following you as you walked towards the front of the ballroom. You heard a few whispers from the older women, surely gossiping about the obvious age gap between you and your employer.

“I’m gonna grab some drinks. You gonna be okay here?” Rhett whispered in your ear, his warm breath washing over your skin and sending a chill down your spine.

“I’ll be good. Can you get me a Long Island?”

“Of course. Be right back.” He hurried off towards the bar, getting stopped several times along the way. You felt like a fish out of water here. You chewed on your thumb nail, anxiously waiting for Rhett to come back.

“I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen,” a voice said from behind you. You turned to see the chair to your right being pulled away and a young man, around your age, sat down beside you. His black cowboy hat hid his eyes but he had a wide smirk on his face.

“I bet you’ve said that at least ten times tonight,” you responded, trying to ignore him.

“Name’s Wes. And you are-“

“Not interested. Beat it, buddy,” Rhett growled as he sat your drinks down and sat on the other side of you, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair possessively.

“I see how it is. Rhett… good to see you.”

Rhett hummed as he glared at Wes over the rim of his glass, silently willing him to scram. It was hot.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“He’s trouble,” Rhett mumbled.

The evening went on without a hitch. Dinner was decent and you joined in on a few conversations. Rhett’s speech was wonderful and informative about the cattle business. He looked good on stage but you knew he was nervous. He made his way back to you, smiling slightly.

“Come dance with me, honey,” he spoke lowly.

“Let me go freshen up a bit,” you squeaked, rushing to the bathroom. Your nerves were getting the best of you. It was just a dance. A quick dance and you’d be heading home. Nothing more.

You made your way back to the ballroom, catching Rhett’s eyes and you trembled slightly at the heat that formed there. A slow song started just as you made your way to the dance floor.

His large hand engulfed yours as his other splayed on the low of your back. You could smell his cologne as he pulled you close to him. You felt a piece of paper in your right palm as Rhett swayed the two of you around.

“What’s that?”

“You can read it when we’re done dancin’,” Rhett drawled, looking down at you. Even with you in heels, his frame still towered over you.

The song ended too quickly for your liking and Rhett was called over to a table filled with older gentlemen, leaving you standing in the middle of the floor. The crumpled napkin had been left in your hand and you spread it out to read the note.

Meet me at the staircase by the piano - R

You gasped slightly and looked around, meeting Rhett’s eyes as he chatted with the group he was with. He was expressionless but there was a fire in his eyes again. One that made your body react and you tried not to squeeze your thighs together in front of everyone there. You made your way back to your table to drink the rest of your drink, a little liquid courage, before you made your way to the staircase.

You stood there for what felt like ages but in reality was only a few minutes. You bounced on your feet, nerves building every second that passed.

“Hey, you,” Rhett’s voice called from behind you, approaching you with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you responded, feeling awkward.

Rhett pulled a key from his pocket. A hotel room key. Room 475 engraved in the key tag.

“You can say no. You can tell me to fuck off. You can quit-“

“Yes,” the answer came without a beat.

“Yeah?” His eyebrows raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his thin lips.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, Rhett,” you confessed, breathless.

Rhett let out a desperate noise as he reached for you and crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head. You moaned wantonly as his tongue expertly licked into your mouth. You should go upstairs, should stop before anyone sees you.

“Rhett, we should- we need to-“

“Yeah… Yeah.”

His hand linked with yours as he pulled you to the elevator, not wasting time pushing you inside and against the wall, the railing digging into your lower spine a bit uncomfortably. His lips reconnected with yours, a low grunt escaping his throat.

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered, lips barely leaving yours. Hands explored your body, gripping at your soft hips and thighs, circling around to grab handfuls of your ass. The touch caused you to arch your body towards his, back bowing as he traveled higher and started palming your breast.

“I’ve thought about this - thought about you - for longer than I’d like to admit,” Rhett spoke, deep voice rattling in his chest. “Makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

You just whined pathetically, gripping at his lapels to anchor yourself. You were about to grind against the thigh that had pushed its way between your thighs but the high pitched ding of the elevator caused you to jump apart. Moving so fast, you would have thought you had been electrocuted.

A little old lady walked into the elevator, not missing the way you and Rhett looked disheveled. It was blatantly obvious what you were just doing. Rhett cracked a smile at her, nodding his head in her direction. Your chest was still heaving and your knees felt shaky.

She only went up two floors, a quick ride that felt like an eternity. Rhett’s pinky brushed against your hand where it rested on the rail, the small touch sending shocks through you.

“Have a nice evenin, ma’am,” Rhett said sickeningly sweet and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh at the look she threw his way as she exited the lift.

Your stop was next and nerves bubbled in your stomach at what was about to happen.

Silence surrounded you and Rhett now as you walked to the room. Not a word was spoken as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. You stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wringing your hands together as you looked toward the wooden floor.

Rhett tossed his jacket haphazardly onto the floor, approaching you slowly. Giving you the chance to run. It reminded you of a lion stalking a gazelle before it pounced. His calloused hands rubbed the length of your arms before his touch brushed the side of your neck, eventually cupping your face. A rough thumb caressed your cheekbone.

“Darlin’, look at me. Please,” Rhett spoke quietly, as if not to scare you. You continued to look down, which caused him to pinch your chin and lift your gaze to him. “Are you sure about this? We can- we don’t have to-“

“No. No, I want to. I have for a while. A long, long while.”

“Good,” he said, coming out an octave lower and his eyes landed on your red covered lips. His thumb ran across the pout of your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly. “I want to devour you.”

A shaky breath escaped you before you wrapped your lips around his thumb, sucking softly on the digit.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

You stood there for a moment, his thumb in your mouth and your eyes locked on each other. It made tensions rise tenfold. You pulled away with a ‘pop’, a trail of saliva following in its wake.

Impatience got the best of you as you started clawing at his tie and shirt buttons, nearly sending them flying through the room. Rhett chuckled at your huffy breaths of frustration as you yanked on his clothing. You threw the tie behind you, his shirt was shoved off his shoulder and into the chair next to the door. His belt made a loud clink as it hit the window.

“Easy, girl. Don’t destroy the room. Or my clothes,” Rhett teased, stopping your hasty movements. You finally took the chance to pause and look at the man standing before you. Hairy chest on full display. The dark hair traveled down in a continuous line all the way down to the waist of his pants. His soft stomach and love handles made your mouth water.

“You’re so- fuck, Rhett. You’re so sexy,” you said.

“My turn.” He untied the neck of your dress slowly, taking his time pulling the bow loose. He turned you so your back was to him, unzipping you unhurriedly. You let the dress fall to your feet as you turned to face him again, leaving you in your lingerie and high heels.

“My god. Look at you.” Rhett took in the sight of you. Black lace left little to the imagination.

Things moved in a blur after that. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to remove the heels and he almost ripped your bra as he unclasped it with one hand. He tossed it aside and you tried not to giggle as it landed on the lampshade of the lamp that sat on the bedside table.

The edge of the bed knocked against the back of your knees as he pushed you softly so you landed on your back, bouncing on the mattress slightly. He stood between your spread thighs, undoing the button of his slack and pushing them down, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath.

You let out a quiet whine as your eyes traveled down his torso and stopping at the large bulge that was confined by the cotton. Even in the low lighting, you could see a small wet spot from the precum.

Large hands massaged your inner thighs as he spread them apart even farther, causing a slight burn in your muscles. He groaned at the sight of your barely clothed cunt. Rhett fell to his knees swiftly and delved into you without warning. Expert licks moved against your wetness through the thin lace, which had been quickly ripped away. His nose bumped against your bundle of nerves as his tongue explored your folds.

His long fingers soon joined his ministrations, finding that spongy spot inside of you in a matter of seconds. You’d question how he did that later. As of now, you tried to control your shaking limbs as he pushed you higher and higher towards your peak. Scratchy stubble rubbed against you, causing a delicious burn.

He stuck true to his word and devoured you, not leaving one part of you undiscovered.

Rhett’s lips wrapped around your clit and started sucking softly, tongue flicking against the bud. You trembled beneath him and your back bowed off the mattress, bucking against his mouth. A strong arm slung itself over your middle, keeping you pinned to the bed.

Your hands gripped his locks tightly, tugging hard when his tongue sped up.

“Rhett. Oh, Rhett. Fuck. Daddy!” It didn’t take much for your moans to become near screams and for galaxies to explode behind your eyelids as you came against Rhett’s face. Your body was jerking involuntarily as you traveled down from your high. Rhett placed feather light kisses against you before pulling away, hair sticking up in places and his face covered in your release.

He traveled up your body and kissed you soundly, the tangy taste of your desire mixing with something so Rhett made you both moan into each other’s mouths.

“Lay back, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you,” Rhett said quietly. You made yourself comfortable against the soft pillows as Rhett stretched you in preparation for his cock. “Damn pillow princess,” he joked. It made you smile.

He had three thick fingers inside of you before you stopped him.

“Stop! Please! I- I wanna come with you inside me,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist. He nodded and pulled his fingers out fleetingly.

You blindly shoved at his boxers and he clumsily kicked them off the end of the bed, his hard cock slapping against his lower stomach. Fuck, he was big.

Rhett pulled back and sat on his knees, gripping the base of his dick and placing it on your stomach.

“Look, baby. You think you can take me? Think you can handle daddy’s cock?”

“Please! Please, fuck me. Need it. Need you. Please!” You begged, lifting your hips and causing the leaking head to brush against your already sensitive clit. You simultaneously let out a loud moan. He rubbed himself through your folds, teasing you and him both.

“Wait, hold on.” Rhett pulled away and searched for his trousers, pulling his wallet out and rummaging through it. He pulled out a foil wrapper and ripped it with his teeth. You had never seen anything sexier.

“Can I do it?” You asked shyly, propping yourself up on your elbows. He handed the condom to you and kept eye contact as you rolled the latex down his length carefully. He was heavy in your hand.

You laid back once more, a trembling breath escaping your mouth as he lined up with your entrance. Even with his prepping, it was still a stretch. The slight burn caused you to hiss and dig your nails into his biceps. He took a break between each inch, time passing slowly as he made small thrusts. He eventually bottomed out, a broken moan coming from his chest as you squeezed around his length.

You stayed like that for a moment, both breathing heavily as his forearms caged you in.

“Daddy. Move. Please,” you whined, fingers moving tangle in the curls at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled out, nearly all the way, before thrusting back into you, the girth and length of him touching places you’d never been able to reach before. It started slow, he was allowing you to get accustomed to him.

However, it didn’t take long before his thrusts became a little rougher. His hands now were placed a the top of your head as he put his body weight into his movements, grunts escaping him with each pass, your high pitched breaths matching him.

“So tight. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for it. Made for me. All mine, all mine,” Rhett rambled. The headboard started to smack against the wall slightly as he pounded into you. You couldn’t breathe. You were approaching a feeling you had never felt before. Your brain was becoming fuzzy and your ears were beginning to ring.

“Da-daddy. M’gonna- I’m almost there,” you squealed as a particularly harsh thrust hit your g-spot.

“C’mon, sweet baby. Come for daddy,” his deft fingers started rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles and you let out a scream as your release washed over you. Rhett continued fucking into you until he pushed deep inside you and threw his head back towards the ceiling, filling the condom with his own release.

He collapsed on top of you, full body weight covering you like a blanket. You felt like were floating. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed against Rhett’s back, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. You stayed silent for a while, both trying to catch your breaths as you came down. He eventually pulled out of you slowly, causing you to wince. He discarded the condom and went to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth and a glass of water.

You were quiet as he took care of you, smiling softly as he pulled you to sit up and take a few sips of water. You had never been cared for like this after sex. It made your chest constrict. You moved under the covers and waited for Rhett to follow suit. He immediately pressed his warm body against your own, pulling you tight to his chest.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said with a slight giggle.

“I can’t believe it took us this long,” Rhett retorted, fingers dancing along your spine.

You both laughed a little before it fell silent once again.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“What does this make us?” You asked as you ran your fingers through the thick chest hair.

“Well… I think this means you’ll be sleeping in my bed when we get home. But don’t call HR on me.”

“You are HR, Rhett. Seriously, though. Are we like-“

“I want you to be my girl. I have spent the past several months falling in love with you. And I know it’s soon, but damn it, darlin’. You’ve stolen my heart,” Rhett confessed, his words causing your eyes to well with tears.

“Rhett… I- I love you, too.”

“The girls are going to be excited. They’ve been begging me to ask you to be my girlfriend since you moved in.”

“They’re trouble, I swear,” you laughed, snuggling closer to your man.

“They’re the reason I have all of this gray hair.”

“Yeah, but it’s hot. Very… very… very hot,” you responded, emphasizing the T. You giggled as he rolled over on top of you and started kissing against your neck playfully.

You kissed each other softly in the dark until you fell asleep holding each other tight. And when the sun rose in the morning, a new beginning would be awaiting you.

tagging those who may be interested:

@ryebecca @whisperofsong @floydsmuse @laracrofted @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @bobfloydsbabe @callsign-magnolia @attapullman

[backwardsbread]

Your “Hazbin Hotel Characters Forgetting an Anniversary” has become a comfort post of mine. You did such a good job with it and did amazing in capturing their personalities as well!

I was wondering if I could request an Adam fic? Like one where he realizes that he actually cares about reader, but he goes about showing that in the strangest ways? He may be a massive obnoxious jerk in the show, but he somehow made his way to being a favorite of mine in the show.

My heart- opening my inbox and seeing this made my day-

I’ve also been obsessing over Adam fics lately so seeing something with Adam get requested made me SO happy! I am happy to oblige~!

Adam x Gn!Angel!Reader

~Feelings are Fucked~

Warnings‼️: Adam being Adam, mutual pining, swearing, maybe OOC?

~Not proofread~

Listen. I don’t gotta tell you that Adam is always up his own ass.

Dude is OBSESSED with himself.

He would be the type of guy to be like;

“Oh yeah, have you heard of the BIBLE?? I’m kinda in it, no big deal.”

He’s on his own mind 99.9% of the time. His needs, wants, desires.

He’s so Self centered it’s not even funny-

So IMAGINE how he feels when you start to pick your way into his thoughts. And he has no idea why.

(Obviously Adam was the superior being, why should you have all people be on his mind??)

It’s easy for him to brush away these random thoughts of you. He could easily distract himself with material things to get his mind off the topic.

Eventually when distractions stop working, he feels like he’s going crazy.

He’s got a lot of things to do in Heaven, yet you feel like the most important ones to him.

I can see Adam being a huge flirt in the beginning. If he can get you to fall for him as hard as he has for you, he’ll consider it a win.

But he doesn’t really realize how much of a dick he comes off as. He absolutely makes a fool of himself majority of the time.

Gives the vibe of him saying something lowkey offensive while laughing and you just staring at him blankly and asked ‘What’s so funny?’

It’s frustrating for him how he can’t seem to get to you.

He doesn’t ask for advice from anybody, but I can definitely see Lute giving her 2 cents while Adam is ranting about how ‘annoying’ you are.

Her biggest piece of advice being for him to just stfu sometimes and actually listen to you.

Adam will never admit how much that actually helped him, it seemed like such a simple solution that he just hadn’t been doing.

So instead of being this overbearing flirt, he’ll just listen to you talk, occasionally chiming in with his own banter. Through this he learns a lot more about you.

And he makes an effort to show you he’s been listening.

You mention your favorite candy? He grabs some for you whenever he’s out getting snacks.

You mention a favorite scent of yours? Suddenly his whole house smells like it whenever you come over.

Got a favorite flower? He just so happened to see some at the garden and brings you one.

Of course he makes sure to follow up his kind gestures with a flirty or snarky remark. Trying to be this big tough guy despite how sweet he’s being to you.

He doesn’t realize how much of a total sap he’s being and how obvious his feelings are for you.

I can totally see Adam’s love language being gift giving and physical touch.

He’s not good with words. Never has been, never will be.

So he often shows his care for you by poking your side or cheek, resting his head or chin on your shoulder, ruffling your hair, or keeping one of his wings behind your back to make sure your close to him.

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

Adam was walking along the streets of heaven with you, ranting about how his superior Sera, was supposedly being a Karen.

In his words she ‘wouldn’t get off his dick’ about his behavior and language. You listened to Adam’s ranting, letting him express his frustrations despite how petty the situation might’ve been. You occasionally let out hums of acknowledgment and nod towards him to show you were listening.

While you’re paying attention to him, a few angels who seemed to be in a rush, nearly bump into you from behind. Adam catches a glimpse of the angels coming your guys’ way, and extends his wing out to shield you from the other angels.

He grabs your hand, bringing you closer to him while his wing wraps around your torso. He waits for the angels to pass by, giving them an extremely fake smile as they flew by. Once they were out of sight, Adam’s smile falls and he grumbles to himself, pulling his wing back to his side.

“Stupid, fucking… can’t watch where they’re going?”

He keeps your hand in his own, continuing to grumble how some angels needed to mind their business and watch where they were going. The two of you continue to walk, but Adam’s voice seems to drown out, and you can only really focus on your hand in his own.

Sure Adam had been affectionate to you many times, but never in public. It wasn’t something that bothered you either. You just felt anxious butterflies fly around your stomach, a sense of pride welling up in your chest that Adam was holding your hand. As the two of you are about to reach your destination, you finally speak up to Adam before you would have to depart from him.

“Hey, are you.. doing anything.. tomorrow evening?”

You ask, scratching the back of your neck a bit with your free hand. Warmth spreads across your face as Adam just kind of stares at you for a moment, pondering.

“Uhh, got a few boring ass meetings after noon, but otherwise, I’m chilling for the rest of the night.”

“Would you.. want to go out to dinner tomorrow? If you’re up for it.”

Your question seemed to go over Adam’s head of what your intentions were. Free food was free food, (and time spent with you was a plus)

He lets his ego take over for a bit, putting a proud hand over his chest. His grin shines across his mask, spreading from ear to ear.

“I suppose I can make some time for you. As long as I get to pick the place.”

You can’t help but chuckle, face flushing hues of pink when Adam agreed. You smile brightly, finally letting go of Adam’s hand.

“Sounds good! Let’s say around 5 or 6?”

“Don’t rush me babes, I’ll text ya when I’m headed over.”

Adam says nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Despite his attitude, you watch his eyes shift away from you, avoiding your gaze. He’s embarrassed and you can tell by how his guard started to come back up. You had learned these little telltale signs Adam had. You chuckle, simply waving to Adam, wishing him good luck on his meeting and telling him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Adam smiles genuinely, giving a small wave back, before turning towards the large angelic building to head inside. Lute was waiting by the door for him and she just so happened to hear your guys’ little exchange. Adam’s whistling to himself, his heart beating fast in his chest but he can’t put his finger on the exact reason as to why.

Lute looks towards him, raising a suspicious brow. She sighs seeing how Adam was oblivious to what he had just agreed to. While holding the door open for Adam to enter the building, she speaks.

“You know they just asked you on a date, right?”

Adam’s whistling comes to a complete stop, his body freezing where he stood. Lute glances up at him, pressing her lips together so she doesn’t laugh at Adam’s look of shock.

“They fuckin’ what??”

[munsonsfairy]

cowboy cowboy 🍒🥧🤎

ib layout: @beforeimdeceased

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sees you pulled over to the side of the road looking into the hood of your old truck. he sees you standing in front of it with no clue of what is wrong.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who’s voice is sweet and warm like apple pie. his dimples have you giggling like a high school girl.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who refuses to take your money after fixing your truck, but does say, “i think a home cooked meal will do the trick, sweet girl.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who shows up to your door in white shirt and blue jeans that hug his legs in all the right places. he has a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper and you swear you could kiss him.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who could instantly melt seeing you in an apron with a floral dress underneath. the porch light shines the color of your eyes just right and he wishes he could stare at them forever.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who blushes when you pull him into a hug giving him a chance to smell your perfume.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sits at the table and watches you do your things in the kitchen. you’re babbling about your job at the local nursery and he can’t help but admire how animated you get while talking.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who wishes he kissed you that night after dinner, but he promises himself next time.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who talks real slow ‘cause his uncle is in the other sleeping before work.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who takes you driving through the backroads. you’re sitting shotgun with your hair undone in the front seat of his truck.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who lays with you in the back of his chevy truck to look up at the stars. when he looks up, he just stares at you with love and whispers, “the way your eyes shine puts these indiana stars to shame.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who promises to build you the life you dream of. he probably can’t buy it but he will try his hardest to give you everything you deserve.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who kisses you that night under the stars. it’s passionate and breathless. his rough hands hold you close to him as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who’s favorite thing to do after a long day is sit on the porch swing with you cuddled into his chest. he will sometimes smoke a cigarette or sip on some warm honey tea you made. (it’s usually the tea lol).

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who stopped his truck during a tim mcgraw song and dragged you in front of the headlights just to slow dance. your head laid on his chest and it suddenly felt like home.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ nsfw

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who has you pinned down in the back of his truck. his mouth leaves sloppy kisses on your neck while he thrusts deep inside you.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who whimpers when you pull his hair while his tongue laps around your clit. his rough fingers fill up your hole having you cry tears of pleasure.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who makes you rub yourself against his bulge when you give him an attitude. he sits back smoking a cigarette while you cry and leave marks all over him — begging him to have his way with you.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who ties you up in the barn and has his way with you when he needs a break from working. the warm breeze hardens your nipples making eddie lose his mind.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who is the sweetest man ever to your parents only to have you bent over the sink while you’re washing dishes. you see his reflection in the window with his shirt unbuttoned and sweat dripping down his chest.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who wants to make you barefoot and pregnant so always finds a chance to fill you up. loves to watch his cum leak out of your abused pussy then uses two fingers to fuck it back inside. doing this only makes him hard again, “gotta make sure it stays inside sweet girl.”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who watches you from across the ranch. you’re wearing your a cami with your panties — his favorite too. he has his hands on his hips with a smirk on his lips. you’re “watering the flowers,” but he knows damn well what you’re doing. “saw you lookin’ so cute from other there. think i don’t know what what you’re doing?”

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who isn’t giving you enough attention so you lay in his truck with nothing on. he hears your whimpering along with your wet pussy being fucked by your dildo. he’ll stand in front of the door and lean in making his muscles more prominent only sending you over the edge. eddie eddie eddie is all he hears. he licks his lips when he sees you cum all around the toy.

ꕥ cowboy!eddie who sits you at the edge of the tailgate with your legs wide open for him. your fingers are buried in his head of curls. his hand reaches up for your tits when his tongue flicks your clit. when you try to hide your moans, he squeezes your cheeks open with his rough hand then slaps you. “next time it’ll be harder if you don’t let me hear those pretty noises.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

That day, you take your lunch. It’s been a long one. Again. 

It seems that it only gets worse lately. Mr. Hansen is either yelling about some client or his ex-wife or the way the cream cheese on his bagel is spread. For all of them, you have to stand and take the brunt of his frustration. 

The sunlight is warm despite a thin sheet of clouds. It’s going to rain, probably just as you get out of work. Typical. 

You nibble on your granola bar and stare at the flowers. It’s nice not to be behind a screen. You crinkle the wrapper and take another small bite. You don’t usually get much of a break so you don’t really pack a full lunch. Your stomach grumbles in regret of that fact. 

You put your elbows on the picnic table and hunch forward. A breeze rustles through petals and leaves and stirs the scent of pollen. You hear the door to the courtyard but don’t look up. No one talks to you. The one time you tried to sit with Caroline and she fled as quickly as you said hi. 

“Hey,” a shadow stops beside the table, “you mind if I sit?” 

You look up at Jensen and shrug, “oh, sure.” 

You put your head back down, suddenly self-conscious, and you break off a morsel of granola with your fingers before chewing on it. He sits and you feel him watching you. You peek at him as you swallow. 

“How’s it going?” He asks. 

You wrap up what’s left of the bar and put it in your sweater pocket. “It’s okay. Nothing special. How about you?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s good,” he unwraps his sandwich as he speaks, his hands seemingly too busy for his own good. The smell of the turkey and swiss draws a growl from your stomach. “Been running around trying to get that new inventory software to work. No one around here knows how to read I swear. And someone up in marketing downloaded a bug so lots of damage control, haha.” His eyes round and he presses a hand to the side of his neck. “I’m yapping again.” 

“It’s fine,” you say. “I don’t mind.” 

“You don’t?” He asks. 

“No.” At least he’s nice. Not like Mr. Hansen. 

“Right, uh... Did I interrupt? Or you just finishing up?” He looks at your pocket pointedly. 

“Oh, no, I... the granola’s too sugary. I’ll just have a tea when I get back to my desk,” you explain and look away, following a ladybug with your eyes. 

“You don’t got anything else?” He asks. 

“Not hungry,” you lie. 

“Hm, alright,” he doesn’t sound convinced but doesn’t insist. “Oh, I meant to ask, I saw your wallpaper, not that I’m like snooping or anything, just happened to notice. Ummmm, well, that sounds off, doesn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, “what I mean it, I saw that you like er, The Sims?” 

You nod and look at the table. Mr. Hansen never said anything about the desktop background. You supposed he didn’t know what the green diamonds meant. He had enough to say about your dancing kitten. 

“I play sometimes,” you say. 

“Yeah, me too. Just 4 or any old ones?” 

“Erm, I like the medieval one.” 

“Really? I thought everyone hated that one,” he says. “I got tired of losing at Elden Ring so I’ve been trying to zen out in Oasis Springs. My wife died though. And the second one. I’ve stopped marrying actually, I might be cursed.” 

It sounds absurd to talk about the game out loud. You never had anyone to discuss it with so you never realised. You glance up again then check your watch. 

“Sorry,” you frown, “I gotta get back.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment lines his forehead, “yeah, sure, sorry if I ate up your time.” 

“No, you didn’t,” you stand and sidle out from behind the bench, coming close to him as you step out. The round table is a bit awkward. “See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

You leave him and the sunlight and go back into the fluorescent-saturated hallways. You don’t rush back even though you should. You just don’t want to be there anymore. Most nights, you can’t fall asleep because you dread waking up. And in the morning, you can hardly drag yourself out of bed. 

You get to your desk and wiggle the mouse to wake up your monitor. You open the browser and stare at the little ad in the side panel of the home page. You hover your finger over the button then click down on it. 

The new tab opens and put your chin in your hand as you scroll down. The word Sale is pasted all over and the categories are lined up neatly. You click through and peruse the dresses under the ‘Office’ heading. 

You don’t have any dresses and you don’t wear any of your skirts. They’re all thrifted or straight out of the bargain bin. You never put much thought into clothing, you just went for adequate, much like the rest of your life.  

Still, the echo of Hansen’s words plays over and over. ‘...dress like a granny...’ It’s not the first time he’s commented on your attire and it never really bothered you very much. He insults everyone. It’s just that you’re so tired of being unnoticed, or noticed for all the wrong reasons. 

You look at a pretty cherry red wrap dress and check the measurements chart. Your phone vibes and you pick it up. It’s just another marketing email. Annoying. You darken the screen and see yourself in it. Ugh. 

You add the dress to your cart. It’s just for you. Maybe it won’t look as good on you as the model but you're tired of the woolly old cardigans and stiff corduroys. Heck, no one will even know the difference. They don’t invite you to the special lunches or to even enjoy a free donut. A new dress won’t change a thing. 

[123pixieaod]

The Smell of Roses - (post-Singapore)

I can't sleep and I can't not think about Daniel fighting just for that single point for Max :,)))

“I owe you a point,” Max announced as soon as the door opened.

Daniel stared, the light of his kitchen spilling onto the dark corridor, pooling around Max’s feet.

“Max,” he finally said, “mate, what the fuck?”

If you were to ask Max how he ended up outside Daniel’s apartment at 3am on a Tuesday night, he’d give you a couple of options to choose from.

The first is, of course, the race the weekend previous. His radio crackling to life as he meandered along the streets of Singapore, trying to catch his breath. Second place. Sweat soaked through his race suit, clinging to the collar and running down the groove of his spine.

Second place. Not great, but there was no catching to Lando today. Second place. Best of the losers, but sometimes he can’t do any better.

Radio. Christian, congratulating him. Telling him he couldn’t extract anything more from the car. Then, an afterthought.

“And your old pal Daniel picked up the fastest lap at the end as well, Max.”

His beat of silence before he clicked on the radio, saying the only thing he could think. “Thank you, Daniel.”

-

Or maybe the moment started seven years previous. 2016, just after the German Grand Prix. Max’s first podium shared with Daniel. From podium to alone in a Red Bull conference room, a few days later and waiting for a meeting to commence. Daniel, leaning back in the office chair, throwing his cap in the air, catching it. Max sitting across, watching. The arch of the cap, navy and red splitting the air. Higher and higher. Daniel aiming to hit the ceiling and still catch it. Max, just watching. Always watching, always in awe.

“Excited for the race?” Daniel asked lazily, head still tilted back as he caught the cap. Max still watching, free to memorise the outline of his Adam’s apple.

“Sure,” he replied, a beat too slow.

“Just so you know, because you’re actually catching up to me in points now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you win so much now,” Daniel gave Max a smile, joking but also tinged with something cut-throat. Max smiled back, unsure why. A reaction. Flower opening to the sun. A moth fluttering to a flame. Inescapable, unstoppable.

“I’m going to fight for every point,” Daniel continued, tossing the cap up again. It made a soft noise as it finally bumped against the ceiling tile. He whooped, catching it, grinning at Max. “See that?”

“Very impressed.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, setting the cap on his styled curls. Smooth skin, light brushing of stubble. Bright eyes, an even brighter smile. Alight from the inside out. “Just like I caught that cap, I’ll catch all the points. Like a Pokémon trainer, gotta catch them all.” He laughed. “Just so you know.”

“Noted.”

“I’m getting all the points now. The honeymooning period is over, baby!” Daniel grinned, and Max was saved from a reply by the door opening, Helmut finally arriving.

-

Or maybe it was a few years later. Christian inviting Max to have breakfast at his table. Turkey, 2020, and Max had qualified second, but fucked up the start. Second to eight in a single second. Then, after making up precious places, stupidly losing control and spinning. Three pit stops later, and managed to drag the car to sixth place. His only race that season where he finished and didn’t get on the podium. His own fucking fault. Lewis, Checo, Sebastian spraying champagne, and Max ruined his racing gloves by pelting them so hard against the garage wall the seam tore.

“You really should take stock in your sixth place,” Christian said, buttering a croissant. “Eight points are valuable.”

“They’re useless,” Max muttered. Arms crossed, stubbornly refusing to touch his anaemic-looking spinach omelette. “They’re not exactly twenty-five points. Not much against Hamilton’s 307 points.”

If he had come first and Bottas hadn’t finished, he’d have gone up. Elevated finally to second in the championship. His first time ever being just one standing below the victor. But he fucked it. Now, there’s 27 points between him and Bottas. The gap growing, because he’s a fucking idiot driver.

“They’re not useless,” Christian said patiently, reaching for a little pot of jam. “Points are points.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather take home 25 points rather than eight,” Max muttered, and Christian finally looked up, setting down his cutlery.

“Do you know Shakespeare?”

Max wrinkled his nose. “Shakespeare?”

“The English poet,” Christian replied, as if that was a perfectively normal conversation change.

“Of course I do. Romeo and Juliet and all that shit.”

Christian raised an eyebrow.

“Stuff,” Max amended.

“Perhaps you may have heard this quote,” he went on, finally beginning to spread the jam on his croissant. Max watched the action, his pale fingers holding the knife, dragging it back and forth over the buttery flakes. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Have you heard of it?”

Sometimes, Max forgot his team principal went duck shooting and rode his own purebred horses in his downtime.

“No,” Max said. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s from Romeo and Juliet. And I like to think the quote can be extended also to F1 points. It doesn’t matter how many you get, or even how you get them. As long as you get them. As long as you stop your rivals from achieving them. No matter how many. Even a single point. Points, by any other name, would still smell as sweet.”

Max frowned, utterly lost. “We should call points something different? A codename? Is this like a strategy to confuse the other teams on the radio?”

Christian smiled, eyes creased. “Something like that, sure.”

-

Daniel has a rose tattoo. It’s on his thumb, small and dark and perfect. Max can see it now, the dark lines etched into his tanned skin. He’s holding the door open, fingers against door’s side, thumb facing Max.

A tiny rose.

-

Maybe, he has to go even further back to figure out why he’s here. Back to the very beginning.

At a carting track, sitting on a discarded wheel. His father kneeling in front of him, hand on his knees.

“How could you just like that boy get the better of you?” He was saying, voice low and urgent. “I didn’t raise a pussy, Max. Or did I?”

Max shook his head, but his dad was already continuing.

“Why didn’t you go for that opening at corner five? And don’t act like a bitch and say you were scared of crashing. There was enough space. And if there wasn’t, you make the space. Force the other driver to move. Nine times out of ten, a driver would rather get out of your way than have you crash into him. Why didn’t you push him? You could’ve Max, and then you would have an actual trophy, and not this plastic shit. Second?” He scoffed. “Fastest fucking loser. Say it back to me, Max.”

“Fastest fucking loser,” he mumbled.

“Good. Now, tell me. Why didn’t you do that move? No, don’t shrug like that. I was an answer.”

“I -“ Max’s tongue felt ten times heavier than usual. “I don’t -“

“You do know, because you did it. Tell me.”

“I… I didn’t… We are friends, and I did not -“

“Friends!” His father barked out a laugh, and then leaned close. “Listen Max. There’s no friends in racing. Do you know where having friends lead you too? Here, sat outside on the fucking ground when your friend takes photos with his trophy. It gets you fastest fucking loser. There are no friends in carting, no friends in F1. Nothing is genuine in this sport. And if you think it is, you’ll about to wake up with a knife in your back and dead last in every race. Now, which one would you prefer? Being last and having friends, or winning? Do you want to be a winner, Max?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop being a fucking pussy.”

-

Daniel congratulated him on his second world championship. Hugging him properly, arms wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing. Pulling away to grin.

“You really are the fucking goat,” teasing, but genuine. A warm flush across his already bronze complexion. Hand still clamped on Max’s shoulder. “Congratulations mate.”

Max trying to remember how to reply.

-

Or maybe it was GP trying to get Max to have a sit-down meeting with him on data feedback. 2019, and Max didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Fine. Please, you tell me what you want to do at the next race, and we’ll do it,” GP replied casually, good at hiding his annoyance. “Let me know. Sets, fuel, run plan.”

Max clenched his jaw, and the older man sighed. “Listen, I’m trying to help - “

“I don’t need help,” Max snapped. GP blinked at him.

“Max,” he said softly, as if breaking bad news. “Everyone needs help.”

“I don’t.”

He gave him a look, somewhere between pity and amusement. “Everyone needs help,” he repeated.

-

So yes, if you were to ask how he ended up here, outside Daniel’s door at 3am the weekend after the Singapore GP, Max would say there’s a few reasons.

“I owe you a point,” he repeated stubbornly. “You got the fastest lap in Singapore. You took the point away from Lando and McLaren and their fight for my title. So, I owe you a point.”

“Mate,” Daniel said, blinking, “sorry but let me repeat myself again. What the fuck?”

ao3

[naughtystiel]

Golden light bathed their surroundings, vivid green leaves of a tree that they were sitting on looked like tiny pieces of stained glass against the sun. On the other side of the tree, on a thick branch was Dean, his eyes sparkling with joy when he glanced at Castiel. Small shadows danced on his features like a kaleidoscope, so mesmerising it was hard to look away.

Castiel’s fingers fumbled with the hem of a tee that he once had stolen from his best friend, so long ago the material started to wear thin in some spots. It was battered, but it was his favourite piece of clothing he owned. As he chewed on his bottom lip, pleasant breeze tousled his dark curls that gained a few lighter strands from the time spent out in the summer sun. The wind carried Dean’s quiet humming, one of songs that they used to listen to on an old walkman. Sometimes they sat on a hill and stared at the night sky, sharing a set of earphones, accompanied by music from a mix tape they had created together.

The branch creaked underneath him as he shuffled in his spot, trying to change his position. His best friend gave him a curious look, his face pressed against dark bark as he wrapped his arms around the tree, “What are you doing?”

Clumsily, Castiel hung his legs over and swung back, his arms now swaying slightly, the tips of his fingers brushing long grass underneath him. In result, the gravity pulled his tee down, covering the blush that spread over his cheeks, “Hanging.” He mumbled and Dean barked out a laugh, “Yeah, I can see that now. Don’t stay upside down too long or all the blood will rush to your head.”

Suddenly, Dean jumped off the tree and walked up to Castiel. A brush of fingers on his torso made Castiel shiver, but all Dean did was lift the tee up to expose his friend’s face, and grinned, “It’s already working, buddy. Your face matches the shade of fuschias in my mom’s garden.”

In lack of any good comeback, Castiel stuck out his tongue like a child and tried to swing himself enough to be able to reach the branch again. His fingers slipped on the crumbly bark before he could get a good grip, but instead of the hard landing that he embraced himself for, was met with a pair of strong arms. For a second, relieved about being saved from possible bruises or fractures, he laughed. Then, it occurred to him that he was, in fact, still upside down and his rear end was shoved right in Dean’s face. Squirming in the tight grip, he tried to wiggle his way out, but instead made his friend lose balance and they tumbled down to the ground. Once more, embarrassed, Castiel crawled away from Dean who was laughing so much his whole body was shaking, “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded and swatted a blade of grass away that kept tickling his nose before pushing his hair back, “Yup, all good. Let’s go!” Before Castiel knew it, his legs were carrying him after Dean, who held his wrist while running towards bikes that they had left nearby. As they cycled on a path that divided two endless fields, wildflowers scattered all over them, they tried to let go of the handlebars, spreading their arms wide open. Any negative thoughts fled from Castiel’s head and got replaced with the carefree feeling, with pure joy of just existing in the moment. Sweet scent of flowers followed them and Castiel took a few deep breaths that filled his lungs with the smell of contentment. The feeling travelled through his whole body, seeping through his bones right to the core. In this moment, nothing else mattered.

An uneven sandy patch made his front wheel swivel and without his palms on the handlebars, the bike turned right into the tall grass that cushioned his fall. Before he could get up, Dean’s hand was already waiting for him, reaching out to be grabbed. So, with a grateful smile, Castiel accepted and got pulled up, “Dude, you gotta stop falling.” His friend teased, but Castiel’s heart quickened its pace. Combined with the previous rush of adrenaline, it was basically hammering against his chest.

“I can’t.” he blurted out, but before Dean could question him about his strange answer he grabbed the bike and jumped on, pedalling as fast as he could, “We’re racing to the lake!” he called out behind his shoulder, a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re cheating! Stop distracting me then!” Dean yelled back, quickly mounting his own cranky bike. It was hard not to laugh around him and it was one of the reasons why Castiel was glad that he could call Dean his best friend. In fact, his only friend, but spending time with Dean made him feel like he wasn’t lacking anything and judging by how Dean acted around him, he felt exactly the same. Some would say that they acted like kids, and perhaps they were, a pair of kids with scraped knees trapped in bodies of people who had already lived for over twenty five years. Selfishly, he hoped that it would stay like this for many more years to come.

The path they followed turned right, but there was a shortcut through a field with short green grass that Castiel decided to take. Soon, he let the gravity do its thing and the bike accelerated on its own, speeding down a hill. A sound, close to a howl of joy, erupted from his chest when he lifted his legs up, tightly holding onto the handlebars, so he wouldn’t fall.

Again.

Dean’s own laughter could be heard just behind him, so Castiel knew his friend was catching up with him. All too soon, the lake appeared in front of him and when he pulled onto the brakes, they didn’t work. Panicked, he tried to stop the bike, repeatedly pulling onto the brakes, but it did nothing against the speed he had gained cycling down the hill. Then, accepting his fate, he held tight and let himself go down with his ship. At first, the cold water was like a shock to his body that was warm from being exposed to the sun, but soon enough it became pleasant. His head resurfaced from beneath the lake, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. Heavy drops of water dripped down his face and eyelashes, making his vision slightly blurry. To his surprise, he found himself not being injured, apart from a small scrape to his elbow.

“What the hell happened?” Dean laughed, jumping right onto Castiel that was attempting to fish his bike out of the lake. When he managed to push Dean off, uncontrollable laughter echoing around them, Castiel swung his arms so they made contact with the surface, and splashed his best friend right in the face. After a short splashing war, they were both breathless, with huge grins on their faces, “Peace?” Castiel panted, reaching his hand out to Dean, who nodded and shook it. Together, they got the bike out to the small wild beach and rested it next to Dean’s. Once that was done, they took off their tees, leaving only shorts on, and hung them on a bush to dry.

The sky started to turn dark blue with a layer of orange hues dividing it from the trees on the horizon. The atmosphere shifted alongside with the changes in their surroundings, from energised to more sedated.

Castiel had known Dean for so long, that they were able to communicate without the need to use words. With a small nod, they started gathering twigs and small branches that later got placed in a pile on the sand. Back in the water, they found some bigger stones and used them to surround the wood. Dean reached into his pocket, the wet shorts still clinging to his body, and pulled out a lighter, “Here goes nothing.”

At first, there was no flame, but after shaking it a few times an orangey glow appeared. Their gaze locked and Castiel wondered if his eyes were mirroring the happiness that he could see in Dean’s. Using some dry leaves, they set the bonfire aflame and sat down, their legs crossed. The gap between them was small, but immediately Dean scooted even closer, so their knees brushed.

The warm glow danced on their features and the cracking sound of wood slowly being burned by the fire created a comfortable bubble that they occupied. They sat there, enjoying the private smiles and glances in between songs that they sang, warmth spreading within Castiel that wasn’t caused by the bonfire in front of them. With Dean, he felt content, whole. There wasn’t anything that he would change about their friendship.

Perhaps, apart from one.

His fingers itched to entwine with Dean’s, he wanted to rest his head on his friend’s chest and listen to the steady and comforting heartbeat. Finding out what Dean’s lips tasted of was a mystery that he wanted to solve, so so badly. But he restrained himself, for years.

The songs died out as time passed, the sky darkening with every minute until stars started to appear and lazily blink over their heads. Castiel got up, wiping off any sand that stuck to his shorts, and checked on their tees that were now dry. When he turned to pass Dean his, his friend was right in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. Something shifted in Castiel’s stomach, concern and worry replacing the carefree feeling, “What’s wrong?”

Dean reached out for his tee, but his fingers lingered on Castiel’s, “Nothing, I just…” he trailed off and shook his head, finally grabbing the piece of clothing and pulling it over his head.

“Dean, we’re best friends. You know you can tell me anything.”

The man visibly hesitated and chewed on his bottom lip, averting his gaze away, before taking a deep breath and locking his gaze back with Castiel’s, “That’s the thing. What did you mean when you said that you couldn’t stop falling earlier? Do you ever wanna be-”

“Yes.” Castiel blurted out, cutting off Dean’s question. He could be wrong, maybe Dean didn’t intend on finishing it with more, but God, he hoped he was right, because otherwise he would fall apart. Now, that the possibility was so close, he would do anything to launch himself onto it and hold tight.

A pair of soft lips connected with his and Castiel’s heart rate quickened once more. The kiss was slow, tender and they poured every unspoken feeling that accumulated throughout the years of their friendship into it. Now, it could bloom into something more. But maybe, it was always there, slowly creeping up until it quietly settled down and waited to be discovered.

When they parted, their foreheads rested against each other. Without any more hesitation, their fingers entwined with a soft brush, “This is love. Right?” Castiel smiled and Dean nodded, “Yeah and there’s so much more on my tongue so take a bite and let it linger.”

[my-brothers-corrupted]

He sinks to the floor the moment he's inside the house, not so much because his legs gave out, and more that something in his chest did.

Must have taken the bus home, he thinks to himself, but maybe he walked instead. His hair's damp, so he knows he must have made it through a shower at work, but after that – he checked out hard. Harder than he has in a long time.

“Okay, Chase, okay,” he whispers to himself, grabbing his wrist, taking his own pulse. He got stuck in the clouds – had to, he had to get himself home – but now he needs a parachute before he goes down like a plane. He has to get up from the door. He feels his body move itself, shoving him up from the floor, although he's shaking all over by now, and he knows he doesn't have long before he'll be hyperventilating.

“Guys?” he croaks, stepping into the hallway. Schneep's in Peru, a thought that kind of wounds him in this moment, needing him like he does. He's pretty sure Henrik could come out of his room with his hair rumpled everywhere and the smell of his aftershave would shock Chase right out of the panic, but he's not here. Nobody answers, but it's late. He tries JJ's room and finds it empty of everybody except Jam, who looks at him languidly and licks her tail. It's enough to make Chase feel desperate. What if Marvin's out late and Jackie's with Max?

“Guys!” he repeats, louder.

“Chaser,” Marvin calls from the other room.

Chase hurries over to him, pulling open the door to his bedroom and pushing through a curtain of vining flowers. In the darkness of the room, the rustling and breathing of so many plants in the room gives it an aura of watchfulness. Chase wheezes out a breath and crawls hurriedly into Marvin's bed, pulling the covers over his head and hiding next to him.

Marvin's still half-asleep. Chase feels his arm flop out to find him. “What's the matter?”

Chase grabs his hand tightly. Marvin turns towards him in the bed.

“It's not morning, your shift's not over. What's wrong?”

“Marvin,” Chase rasps, feeling the tears rushing towards him. He can't breathe. “Please help me.”

Marvin's instantly awake, sitting up straight and curling over him. From under the covers, Chase feels the warmth of his brother's body over him, blocking everything else out. “Chase, I'm right here. You're okay. Talk to me, Chase, don't get lost.”

But he was lost on the way home from the hospital, and he doesn't know where he's wound up now. He starts sobbing in the ragged sort of way that always makes Jackie leave the room, grabbing his ears, and sometimes it makes Henrik frantic and upset himself, but Marvin never gets stressed about it. He just gets under the covers with Chase.

“Please make it stop,” Chase cries, clinging to his shirt.

“You gotta ride it out, baby.”

That's what he wants, for Marvin to call him baby and hold him. It's pathetic; he needs it. “No, Blue, I can't. I don't want to have a panic attack, I don't want to still be fucked up from what he did, I don't want to.”

He loses his breath and sobs, trying to get air.

Marvin rubs his back, but that's not right. That's not what he's supposed to do. Chase moves closer to him instead – throws himself at him, really – and wraps himself tight around him. He shoves his face against his neck and clings to him around the shoulders, their legs tangling up.

“Chase,” warns Marvin.

They're too close, Chase knows that. He knows it's not normal, not healthy, to be approaching thirty and wrapped around his older brother like cats cuddling up. They get to set their own boundaries now that Anti's gone, it's true. But this isn't what Chase wants their brotherhood to look like, because it's not what's best for anyone.

Tonight, though, he just needs it. No matter how bad he wants healthy boundaries, he always comes back to this particular desperation, his downfall. When he's triggered, he doesn't feel safe – can't feel safe – til he's being held like he'll never be let go.

“Please, Blue, please, please, I'm so sorry.”

“Chase,” sighs Marvin. “Okay. I'm here, Trick.”

He squeezes his shoulders and turns him onto the mattress, laying most of his weight on top of him and something releases in Chase's chest like a spout turned on. The panic comes washing over him, but he can ride it out if Blue's got him. Blue always takes care of him, and he takes care of Blue. Trick never cared about being humiliated. He just wanted to be held, and he was allowed to be. He and Dok could cuddle up all they wanted, and Jackie and Marvin never came into their room to have another talk with them about codependency; JJ never looked at Trick strangely when Blue covered his face in kisses and called him angel or lovey. All his brothers were always just a room away, and nobody ever left him. They couldn't if they wanted to.

“There was a guy at work yelling at Ada,” Chase starts to choke out, Marvin humming in understanding as he sobs through the story. “And I got angry and – felt a lot of things – and then he pulled a pocketknife out – ”

“What, seriously? In the ER?”

“So I grabbed him and slammed him into the wall, and Ada got a sedative. Look, he cut my arm.”

“Chase!”

It's all bandaged up – wasn't even a bad cut – but it was enough to send even the hardened ER nurses who have been helping him learn the ropes for months into a frenzied mix of excitement and worry. And Chase, standing quietly in the middle of them while they cleaned his arm with way too much antiseptic and thoroughly-checked gauze wrap, felt weird. Felt nothing.

“Did the police come?”

“Yeah, I guess someone will have called them,” Chase hiccups, starting to get his breath back a little.

Marvin lays with him quietly for several minutes, and Chase nuzzles into his neck. Though they're still holding each other, he already has a sadness knowing that tomorrow he won't be able to curl up this way. He's so pathetic. He rubs at his face and sighs out, trying to decide where his head is supposed to be at. Will Marvin let him be Trick a while longer? Let him be held? He can be good. He can, he promises. Let him try again.

“Was it the blood that got to you?” Marvin asks. “Or the knife?”

Chase doesn't want to think about it, but the answer's in his mouth already. He works with blood and scalpels and wounds professionally, and he doesn't have a problem.

“Neither,” he says. “It was him yelling, and me hurting him.”

“You were defending Ada.”

“Yeah,” Chase whispers. “So why did it feel like I should have hidden behind her and begged for my life?”

Marvin breathes out, and Chase feels it against his hair. His brother kisses the side of his head.

“Call me Trick again,” Chase whimpers.

“Oh, lovey,” sighs Marvin, exhausted. “You don't have to be Trick to be my dearheart.”

“Your amata?”

“Uh-huh. You're my amata.”

“I'm your amata.” Chase feels warm again, settling down. He presses his face into Marvin's neck. “I did good?”

“You were perfect. You did wonderfully. You were so brave.”

“You always take care of me, Blue.”

Marvin closes his eyes beside him. Chase knows because he feels the way his face tenses.

“Get some sleep, star.”

.

“No. No. He wasn't. Unless he and Schneep were doing it more often than I thought. Like when you'd hear Henrik have nightmares, he'd – yeah. Then they'd be sleeping in the same bed. But so much better than they did before, where they couldn't be apart. Uh-huh.”

Chase rests his fingers on the cracked kitchen window, listening to Marvin pacing in his garden, talking on the phone.

“Definitely he's never asked me for something like that. Well, once or twice he's called me Bluey or something like that, just affectionate. Not because he needed Blue. Not because he needed to be Trick.”

Chase sinks back slightly, staring blankly at the wall. Noodle twines around his legs, purring.

“So now Schneep's in Peru, which is great. Yeah, you saw his pictures? It'll be really good for him. But it makes sense, you know, if Chase is feeling lonely. No, don't do that. You're busy, and Chase doesn't – well, you're not exactly his go-to for cuddles, Jacks. We know you're just a mirror away.”

A pause.

“Oh, I don't talk to him about her. He stays at her place a couple times a week and he tells me things are good. That's all I need to know. What? I do not! JJ and Chase can have girlfriends. If they're happier, good! You're thinking of Henrik, he's the one who gets jealous. Well, I – yeah. I was. JJ was at Quin and Cedar's, Henrik's gone, you're at Max's, and Chase works night shift. So what? I can be in the house alone. I have the cats. Where is this even coming from?”

Marvin's voice starts to raise. Chase hears the agitation in his voice. He always hears it when Jackie or Marvin start to sound agitated, and it always makes him feel a little sick. Sick and like he needs to sit by the window and watch. For what, he never knows.

“I called to talk about Chase! That's not – geez, Jackie – I didn't! No, I didn't, I... maybe once.”

He can almost see the way Marvin must be gripping his hair. He can almost see the grass stretching up to comfort him and grip his ankles.

“Maybe I called him Trick once. Okay? Why does it matter... no. Don't say that.”

He leans down to pick up Noodle.

“I would never want to be Blue again,” Marvin says, voice cutting. “You're wrong.”

Chase goes back to Marvin's bedroom and hides beneath the covers.

.

The noise of clapping stops him completely short as he approaches the nurse's desk the next day, eyes wide. He's heard a wide variety of noises in the ER, but clapping is not among the repertoire.

“There he is!” someone shouts, and his coworker (friend?) Carson whistles at him like a cat-call, making Chase snort. Ada comes up to him and hugs him, and his shift manager has a cup of coffee waiting for him on the desk.

“A little heavy on the fanfare,” Chase says, nonetheless reinvigorated. “People are in the hospital acting crazy all the time.”

“Well, Suzie saw everything,” says Carson, “so you know it got around to everyone. And her version of events was very heroic.”

“He completely just moved like a superhero,” Ada interjects. “One motion, he just spun me out of the way, stomped on the guy's foot, threw him off balance, and shoved his arm. He couldn't have touched me.”

“I just shoved everybody involved,” Chase laughs, but now she's got him thinking. Did he really step on his foot? He doesn't remember the details. He's no fighter the way Jackie and JJ are, but he knows how to defend himself, that's a sure thing. He's done it plenty of times in his life. Just more often with a high-grade semi-automatic in his hands than not.

His stomach twists. He grins and takes a sip of his coffee. Small comforts. He's not Trick and never has to be again. He's Chase, and he gets coffee and good work and home-cooked meals. He gets his kids and his brothers and a girlfriend who treats him right. Trick had some dysfunctional comforts, but Chase's are better. He doesn't want to go back there.

He won't. He won't let himself slip like that again. He'll keep getting up every time he falls. Chase slaps the counter and grins at his coworkers. “Okay, okay, back to work, the lot of you. Those bowels aren't going to disimpact themselves.”

Yeah. He keeps going. He's Chase Brody.

.

Blue sets his hands down on the kitchen counter and tries to breathe.

He's fine. It's fine. This is normal. Everybody spends time alone. He can do it.

Jackie's fighting fires in Brighton. Chase is at therapy. Henrik's in Peru. JJ's at Quin's. So there, see, all accounted for. All fine.

Unless.

“Don't do this, don't do this,” he whispers to himself, grabbing at his hair, sucking in deep, slow breaths, as even as he can. “You don't have to do this anymore. They're fine, they're not your job, they're fine, you're fine.”

But he's not fine, because he can't know. He can't know if they're safe. He can't know if they've eaten. He can't know if they're panicking somewhere, or cornered, or sick. He does know they all slept, at least, because he stood in JJ's doorway for nearly forty minutes last night just listening to him breathe, and when Chase got back from his shift he put him to bed himself, and he went through the mirror in Brighton to just stand in the locked room that leads to Jackie and Max's flat, listening, carefully, to make sure they were getting some rest.

Henrik, though, who made sure Henrik rested? How will they know how he gets when he's tired, how his mood drops and he goes off his food? How will they know he likes completely blacked-out curtains? How will they know playing music helps him sleep?

The door clicks in the other room and he nearly chokes on his gasp, straightening up. He calls out a hello and gets a loud, twirling whistle in reply. Blue shoves his hair back into place, turning quickly back to what he was doing.

“Hi, baby,” he says, turning to glance at him.

“I'm not 'baby,'” JJ protests uncertainly, and Blue curses himself mentally. Of course! JJ hates being called baby. “You haven't called me that in a long time.”

“Right, sorry. So sorry. I just meant darling. Hi, darling. How are you?”

“Right as rain.” JJ comes over to him, kicking off his shoes. “And you?”

“Good, yeah.”

“You're making jelly pastry,” JJ signs, blinking at the mess laid out before his brother. “You usually only make this for birthdays.”

Blue bites down hard on his lip. That's right. Jelly pastry's a pain, and he kind of hates making it – but he loves the way the others light up. “It's Henrik's favorite, that's all.”

JJ pauses, cocking his head. “Yeah... Henrik won't be home for a month yet, I thought?”

Blue takes in another deep breath. “Right,” he agrees. “Right. Guess I was missing him.”

JJ carefully sets a spatula and whisk into the sink. He's thinking, Blue knows. It's good to see him so clear, totally in control, organized. Blue always knows when he's clear and when he's lost. He knows how to talk him through anything, knows when he needs to go to the hospital, knows if he's had his meds and when they need to be refilled again. Actually, there's only two weeks left on his primary anti-psychotic. How will they sneak out to get that?

No. No. They don't have to sneak out. They can take the bus. They can walk. Marvin touches his head, feeling slightly faint.

Jamie touches his waist, an arm snaking around him, and Marvin stares at nothing, trying to put himself back together before Jameson notices anything more. His little brother leans into him carefully, pressing their bodies side-to-side, and Marvin wraps an arm round him in return, and forces himself not to squeeze.

The door clicks, and Marvin doesn't jump up to look too quickly, as much as he can help it. “Hi, amata,” he calls. “Therapy okay?”

Chase sighs the way dogs sigh when they're just hanging out on the carpet. “Yeah, fine.”

“Staying here the rest of the day?” he asks them both.

“I was thinking about asking everybody out for chips and kebab,” JJ offers.

“Oh, no, come on,” Blue says, straining against the desperation in his voice. “I'll clean up and then I'll make you both whatever you want for dinner. Let's stay in, yeah? Let's stay right here.”

Jamie doesn't say anything for a long moment. Chase glances at him from the doorway. “Okay,” he signs finally, hand swooping. “Sounds good.”

“Great, good,” Blue sighs. “Good. I'm glad you're home, baby.”

Jameson smiles at him, but it doesn't reach his eyes. No matter. Blue will have him happy again soon enough, as long as they just stay home. He kisses the side of his head and goes back to curling his pastry.

.

“Your brothers think you're having a relapse,” Jackie says.

Blue sticks the end of the string in his mouth, wetting it together before leaning back to thread the needle. “My brothers? You move out and now they're just my brothers.”

“Our brothers, then,” says Jackie, pushing on without hesitation. Probably didn't even notice the irritation. “Chase and JJ think you're having a relapse. Chase thinks it's his fault, too.”

“Don't say that,” Blue snaps. “It's not his fault.”

“He was the one who said it.”

“Nothing's his fault,” Blue mumbles to himself, pulling JJ's dress shirt into his lap. He finds the missing button space and presses in the needle behind it. “He's been good.”

“He said you turned off his alarm for work yesterday.”

Blue doesn't answer. He sticks the button against the fabric and pushes up to get the needle through the eye. It stabs his finger and he jolts back for a moment, watching as a tiny bead of blood fills the line of his fingerprint.

Jackie comes over quickly, grabbing his hand. Marvin looks up at him in astonishment, and his brother furrows his brow at him, pressing his red hoodie against the little drop of blood.

“You're fine,” says Jackie, in his steadiest voice.

Marvin sets the dress shirt down on his lap, feeling weird. He's been feeling kind of weird for a couple days. Kind of far away. Jackie touches his face. His gloves are familiar against his skin.

“What do you need, Marvin?” Jackie asks him gently.

Marvin shakes his head, staring at the wall.

Jackie sits down with him and hugs him to his side. “What do you need?” he repeats.

“What do you need?” asks Blue.

“No, you,” Jackie pressures.

“What do I need?” mumbles Marvin.

He senses movement at the door and looks up to see Chase peeking awkwardly in from the hallway. It's almost enough to send Marvin reeling back into his head: Trick timid and unsure, trying to figure out if he's allowed into Red and Blue's important conversations. They would shoo him off so often back then. It felt better, leaving them out of the scariest parts of things when they could. But it just left Dok and Trick listless and unsure.

“You can come here to me,” Marvin says. “Chaser.”

“Yeah,” agrees Chase shyly, stepping into the living room. He settles onto the couch a cushion away, and Marvin beckons for him closer.

“I shouldn't have cuddled up with you like that,” Chase says, not moving closer.

Marvin shakes his head. “Of course you should have. Come here.”

Chase slides against his side and Marvin hugs him against his body, Chase's hair tickling his chin as he leans his head back. Jackie stands over the both of them, a sure hand cupping Marvin's neck.

“I'm sorry, Marv,” Chase mumbles.

“It's not about you, Chase,” Marvin sighs, rubbing at his head. “Fuck. I've been out of it.”

“What happened?” Jackie asks.

Marvin shrugs. “I don't know. I guess we did snuggle up pretty close. But I think it just got me thinking. Schneep's gone, and now we're all out and about a lot. Jackie, you're going to be in India all next month to get the baby, and that's great, but maybe I just...”

“Just wanted to be Blue,” suggests Chase, really soft.

“No,” snaps Marvin.

He pauses. Closes his eyes. Breathes out. “Oh, fuck. I did.”

“Blue was good to us,” Jackie says smoothly, like this isn't all horrifying. “He had a purpose, and we all listened to him and stayed with him. But you can be our brother without being our nanny too now, Marvel.”

“I know that,” groans Marv. “You don't have to – to give me the speech, okay, I think just, somewhere in my head, I just...”

Just wanted that feeling when the five of them would all be able to sit in the same room and know that no one else mattered but each other. Things were so organized, so simple.

And so painful. But no matter what, all four of his brothers were waiting to kiss it better.

“Maybe it's about the baby,” he whispers. Jackie cocks his head at him, and Marvin pushes on despite his own self-loathing. “And Ash, and Quin, and Henrik's friends in Peru, and Chase getting taken care of by coworkers I don't even know. Maybe I'm just having to realize that there are other people you all love more – or at least as much – as we love each other.”

“Max is a different kind of love, but I would never say – ” Jackie starts, and then he shuts himself down suddenly, eyes snapping away to something in the future. Chase laughs weakly.

“Yeah, dude, you will,” he tells his big brother. “And you should. The kid will come before anything.”

Jackie looks at him strangely. “The kid will come before anything,” he agrees. “I... hadn't thought about that either. I've been so excited to love him, but... I'm going to love him more than you.”

He pauses and pushes at his hair for a second. “That's going to hurt! Oh, wow.” Marvin laughs aloud. “I'm excited to see you two with him, but... things are just changing all the time.”

“So what do we do about it?” Chase asks. “What if we keep doing this? Sometimes I do want comfort the way Trick got it. We all make so much progress, but then I think there are always some parts we crave despite everything. Are we ever going to get through that?”

There's a clicking behind them, and they all turn to look. “You're overthinking it,” signs JJ.

“We are?” Marvin asks, amused.

JJ flops onto the couch beside them. “Course you are. Didn't I live as more than one person for longer than any of you? If you still want something, it's something good. You can still have it. It's just the circumstances around it we can't fall back into. Chase, you can cuddle with Marvin, you two were always like that. Come on. We're never going to be exactly normal brothers, but there's nothing unhealthy about the two of you hugging in bed.”

“It's not really normal,” Chase says weakly.

“Our normal is different than everybody else's. When you and Henrik started remembering yourselves, you figured out that the sharing a bed was a problem between the two of you, and you've reigned it in. But what's wrong with you and Marvin comforting each other every now and then? Why don't you try having some physical touch together when you're not in crisis? You'll figure out quickly what's unhealthy and what's just the two of you liking physical comfort.”

“Okay, now solve my problem,” Marvin says, only half-joking.

JJ grins at him. “You're working on that all the time. Of course there are up and down days. If you're getting clingy, we'll come tell you. Like so. And come on, Marvin, we know you. As soon as you have your nephew in your arms, there won't be any jealousy. Here's the big secret: you're about to love someone more than you love us too.”

Marvin's face heats as the thought occurs to him.

He's been thinking a lot about how good it will be to see Jackie and Max as parents. They've been talking about it so long, and Jackie's ready. Marvin's watched him grow into a husband, and now he's watching him grow into a dad. It's time. He wants to see his brother settled.

But he's going to have a new nephew!

He loves Izzy and Hunter too. Does he love them more than the others? He's not sure. It's different love. It's huge love, but it doesn't have... what is the edge on his love for his siblings? Fear? Is that really what sets that love apart? He doesn't want that to be what makes it special. Pride, sure. Familiarity. These are his comforts. But he doesn't want to love them harder than anything because he still gets so scared that he could have lost them.

He doesn't want to love them more than everyone else in the world, he realizes abruptly. And... he doesn't want them to love him more than anyone, either. He wants them to grow.

“One day at a time,” Jackie says to all three of them, reaching down to touch JJ's chin. “You been okay?”

“I am better than I've ever been,” JJ says, curling into his hand. “I like growing up.”

Yeah. There's the pride. He turns to look at Chase, and his brother sets his head back down on his shoulder.

.

Chase finds Marvin on the couch again three days later.

The birds are chasing each other around outside, where a dusting of snow is beginning to fall from the sky. The house is quiet, with the faint noise of a movie on in JJ's room and the laundry machine rumbling on the other side of the house. Chase moves towards his brother and gets onto the couch and lies down against him.

“Mh?” Marvin asks, flipping a page of his book. He sets it down, frowning. “What's wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah,” Chase says. “I'm good.”

Marvin's hand rests tentatively on his hair. “You need something? We can talk, what's wrong?”

Chase shakes his head. “Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to sit with you.”

Marvin pauses a second later, putting the book on the side table. Then he relaxes. “Ah, I see,” he says. “We're practicing.”

Chase grins at him. Marvin hums and lies down further back on the couch, pulling him against him. “We're just cuddling for fun.”

“Is it weird to call it cuddling?” Chase asks.

“No. It's just the two of us, after all,” Marvin says. “Who's here to judge? You'll always be my darling, you know.”

Chase warms. Just like that? Is that a boundary? He thinks so. Maybe they figured that one out just like that.

And if he's still not sure if something's healthy or not, well, he can always check with his therapist. That's the other nice thing about becoming a part of the world outside. The five of them aren't alone in any of this. It was scary once, but now, it's a beautiful thing.

He doesn't need to be Trick. He doesn't need the world to depend on the relationships he has with his brothers. He can just have this. He can just love his brother for where they are now.

“We're still special, though,” Chase says.

“Hm?”

“You and me. We have a bond. All five of us. It's always going to be special.”

Marvin looks at him seriously for a long moment, his hand rubbing down his back.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It's always going to be special.”

Chase nods and presses his face into his chest, closing his eyes. They're growing all the time. But Blue and Red and Trick and Dok and Dapper are always going to be there, somewhere inside or behind or beneath them, he doesn't know. Maybe it doesn't have to be a bad thing. Maybe they can just keep the good things.

His phone buzzes, and he reaches down to get it out of his pocket. Henrik's texted him.

Heard you were being a bad-ass at work the other day?? I guess there are some things we never lose. Why didn't you tell me?

Chase texts him back. Honestly, I thought if you heard somebody had cut me, you might fly back to cut them back.

What? Someone cut you? What sort of a motherfucker. I will flay him like a fillet of COD.

It's so ridiculous and so earnest and so Henrik. Chase starts laughing, hugging Marvin's stomach, warm all the way down to his core. Yeah. Maybe they can just keep the good things.

[hannahmanderr]

ALSO ❤️✨👗🌸🎉🍰👄🌙😍 pitch pearl :)

it's important for me to clarify that this is only one of an infinite number of possibilities depending on the context lol. for this one, we're going with Fenton and Phantom stemming from the same Danny but becoming their own people once separated whooo

❤️- Who asked whom out?

Phantom definitely, but bc he's a mischievous little turd, he had to do it very sneakily so that Fenton wouldn't suspect it was a date right away and freak out

✨- Who plans the date?

Also Phantom, on account of it being a surprise date lol

👗- How long do they take getting ready?

Phantom spends literal hours getting ready - not in terms of appearance, of course (he's only got the jumpsuit, and that hair is a nightmare to try and wrangle), but getting ready mentally, on the other hand... Needless to say, there are quite a few parkgoers that day wondering why on earth Phantom is flying in actual circles around the same single tree, muttering self-affirmations to himself over and over again. Poor kid must really have some self-esteem issues.

Fenton, on the other hand, when Phantom shows up to take him, looks down at his sweatpants, throws on a hoodie, and says "Ready" (mostly bc he's just been woken up from having fallen asleep in the middle of his homework; he was up late last night helping Phantom catch Johnny 13)

🌸- Who brings gifts (flowers, wine, chocolates, etc.)

Phantom considered bringing a flower, but decided against it. He would've loved to bring a gift as a romantic gesture, but hey, sometimes you've gotta start small, and that's what he's gonna do with Fenton.

🎉- What was the date?

Phantom goes to get Fenton, only to find Fenton asleep on a pile of homework. He hates to wake him up, he remembers how bad it could be, back when they were one person, but this can't wait. It has to be tonight.

Fenton is more embarrassed about having fallen asleep on the homework (and the pile of drool left on his chem worksheet) than anything. Slightly annoyed that Phantom would wake him up, but he knows that if he's doing that, then it must be important.

Phantom takes Fenton out into the night sky. "Don't you remember what tonight is?" Phantom asks, almost surprised that Fenton hasn't mentioned anything about it yet.

"Out of Touch Thursday?" Fenton jokes. He has not caught on yet. (the joke makes Phantom smile)

He doesn't respond though, not until they're out just past the edge of town and so high up it's dizzying, or maybe Fenton's only feeling that way because holy crap did Phantom get... cologne? Or something? And why does it smell so good? Has he always smelled like this?

(the answer is that Phantom knows they both love the scent of pine trees, and while Fenton has a body spray that has a similar scent, Phantom wanted to get his own, special one, so he sweet talked a potion master in the Zone to make him one)

It's when Phantom stops dead in the middle of the sky that Fenton remembers what that night is, right as the first meteor begins to fall.

"You idiot," Fenton says, although Phantom can see the smile twitching at the corners of his lips, "we could've just gone up onto the Ops Center. Why make the trek out here?"

It's important to note that this whole time, Fenton has had his arms wrapped around Phantom's neck (very tightly, because as much as he trusts Phantom won't let him fall, the ground is very far away). Phantom has kind of tucked his tail under Fenton's legs to give him a bit of a cushion to sit on - not completely, of course, but enough so that Fenton isn't just dangling from him, but it at least leaves the hand not on Fenton's back free.

Phantom takes that free hand and, almost shaking from nerves, reaches up to his shoulder, where Fenton's hands meet. He puts his hand over Fenton's and says, "It wouldn't have been the same. I wanted - I needed it to just be us. Not us and the city, just us. Away from everyone and everything else."

Fenton can't decide whether he wants to stare up at the falling stars around them, lighting up the sky in a waterfall of silvery stardust, or if he wants to stare at Phantom, whose glow lights up his whole world and, despite his cold, fills him with a warmth he can't describe.

He knows what's going on now.

So he shifts his hand so his fingers wrap into Phantom's. The swooping in his stomach might be from the height, but it might also be from the fact that Oh my God is this idiot finally making his move? (it's not like he hasn't noticed the way his heart flutters every time he sees Phantom's smile, or the way how even in the midst of all the teasing, Phantom treats him like a treasure worth more than the stars in the sky falling all around them)

"It's always us," he tells Phantom quietly. "It'll never not be just us. The city and the ghosts and whoever... it's not like they understand."

And he doesn't say more, but Phantom just somehow knows what he's getting at. Knows that Fenton is talking about the bond they share, because although they split apart months ago and they're more their own person they ever were when they were one, their souls are still eternally twined with one another in a way that no one, ghost or human, can ever fathom.

🍰- Who picks up the cheque (if there is one)? Does the other person put up a fight?

No check for a meteor shower, but had there been one, Phantom would've insisted on picking it up, and Fenton would've fought him tooth and nail to at least allow them to split it.

That being said, Phantom isn't going to let the night go by without showing Fenton something for it, especially after those words.

So he carefully untangles his hand from Fenton's and holds it in front of them, above Fenton's lap. A spark of green flame dances in his palm, and Fenton watches, entranced, as Phantom concentrates - he's been practicing for this, he knows he can do it - and, in one fell swoop, encases it in a glittery ice.

The result is something that looks very similar to the falling stars around them, and Fenton's breath catches in his throat.

Phantom doesn't notice. He's too busy letting his words flow like they've been freed from their dam. "I just get so... so scared that something's going to change... something's going to happen, and we'll drift apart..."

He looks up at the meteors. "What if... we're meant to just keep separating? That we'll end up burning out like these meteors?"

He now looks at his shooting star of ice, still resting in the palm of his hand. "I... I can't lose you," he whispers. "I can't let it burn out. I don't know what I'd do..."

Fenton watches all of this, his heart pounding. It's been so long that he's been waiting to hear these sorts of words come from Phantom's mouth, and it hurts his heart in all the right ways to see Phantom so worried for their relationship, whatever sort of relationship that may be.

👄- Who initiates the first kiss? Does it go well?

Fenton, surprisingly enough, is the one to break that barrier. Overwhelmed with affection, without thinking twice about it, he leans forward and plants the softest, most tender kiss into Phantom's cheek.

"Like we'd ever let that happen," he says, and now, fully trusting that he won't fall, he moves one of his hands from around Phantom's neck and puts it just barely underneath the hand holding the frozen star, and now both of them are holding this impossibly singular moment in time.

Phantom doesn't know what to think. On one hand, he's still terrified of something happening that would make him lose Fenton, but on the other, he's tired of being scared. Fenton's kiss burns in his cheek, and he wants more. He doesn't want to hold back anymore. He wants to believe this singular moment in time can stretch into eternity, that nothing will ever come between them.

And so he chooses to believe that.

Without another word between them, somehow just knowing that this is what Fenton wants too, he captures Fenton in a real kiss.

And another.

And another.

And ano-

Each time, Fenton responds just as eagerly because God, he's been waiting and wanting this for so long, but he's just been so nervous to make the first move and now it's really happening and now they're tangled in yet another kiss as the sky falls around them and yes, they can believe that not even the universe itself will ever bring them apart.

🌙- At the end of the night, do they stay over?

It's not like they haven't already been sharing a room, basically, but that night it's different as Fenton curls up in his bed and for the first time, Phantom curls up right next to him.

Nothing much more than that happens, of course, they're both still awkward, nervous teenage boys, but they both lay there , just enjoying this new light to each other's company. Phantom savors the feeling of Fenton's warm body pressed up against him, and Fenton wants to memorize how safe and comfortable it feels to have Phantom's tail wrapped around him.

😍- Any random headcanons you may have

Phantom might have accidentally lost track of the frozen star sometime during one of many kisses, but not Fenton. He keeps it tucked away in the back of his sock drawer, where no one but him knows. Over the years, whenever he gets into a fight with Phantom, or whenever the two of them find themselves facing yet another threat to their relationship, he pulls it out when he's alone and sits there and holds it, remembering the promise they made to each other that night.

It just about always helps.

Maybe one day, he'll finally return it to Phantom, when he's ready to be brave enough to bring their relationship to the next level and really ask him to spend the rest of his afterlife with him.

[hannahwatcheshorror]

FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

A feel-good classic horror about a doctor who is absolutely not insane, he just wants to bring a fully undead fellow to life (no big deal). This black & white creature feature might just have you feeling bad for The Monster!

(Trigger warning: child death)

⭐⭐⭐⭐.5

The movie starts out with our man Frankenstein (who is the doctor, not the monster, let’s not get into that argument since it’s right there in the credits) already snatching bodies left and right to stitch together his perfect man (Rocky Horror Picture Show, anyone?). There is a big emphasis on him being proud he created the creature with his own two hands, very much Doc Frank wanting to be a mom so bad (I mean a God (which some moms might find similar)). His fiancée and her little bitch boy, I mean her best friend who is totally in love with her, come along to check on him but end up watching The Monster™ be created and therefore could no longer call Doc Franky-poo crazy (because stealing dead bodies is totally sane).

Anyway, lightning! And bam! Life! Because of ultraviolet rays and the life ray that came from a thunderbolt. Sure. Science. I digress. We finally meet the man of the hour, who is really a man only hours old, and he is ADORABLE. Honestly, he is an enormous being with a child brain and sad eyes. I wanted to protect him the moment he turned around (after walking backwards through the door). AND ALMOST IMMEDIATELY they start to torture him because they scare him with fire and our best boy fights back when they lunge on him.

Suddenly chained up in the literal dungeon, The Monster, AKA Green Goobley, is being whipped and scared with fire by Frankenstein's assistant (who has a hump on his back but isn’t named Igor, I guess something was on the Fritz). I don’t even think Green Goobles is a day old at this point but he turns on the assistant and kills him (shocking that he didn’t want to be tortured anymore). Dr. Frankie literally only now thinks to himself, “Maybe I’ve gone too far…” Which is sort of hilarious when you think about it, smart people can be really dumb sometimes.

Frankenstein Sr. and the fiancée (Elizabeth) arrive because their timing is piss poor but they scurry out and think all is well… Until the wedding day and Beth has basically a common sense premonition that things aren’t actually okay at all (and she is right!) Our Green Mister Man is making his way towards the town and he stops by a little girl's house, she offers him flowers which he cautiously accepts. He is delighted by the look and smell, even smiling for what may be the first time in his entire existence but a miscommunication during their playtime leads to him throwing the girl in the water. The girl calls out in distress before she is below the surface for good and our boy is immediately stressed, he doesn’t know what to do, he runs, and it almost seems like he is looking for help but cannot find any. This death triggers the manhunt that will eventually kill The Monster who never wanted to be a monster.

The whole town is looking for him, just like in REVENGE OF THE CREATURE only instead of carrying flashlights they held fiery torches and bellowing hound dogs. The chase led them to a mill where our simple boy turned killer became trapped as they burned the building down around him. The townsfolk were even smart enough to stay behind to make sure he didn’t slip out while they weren’t looking (so we don’t have a HOUSE OF WAX 1953 situation on our hands). Finally you KNOW I gotta call shenanigans for Dr. Frankenstein still being alive at the end of the movie after rag-dolling off of the windmill so viciously BUT it was a cute ending so I’ll give it to them, classic and classy. (“Here’s a jolly good health to Young Frankenstein”)

Underneath that gruff exterior of The Monster was a man who had feelings, something that the good doctor seemed to overlook about his own creation. Our green boy craved input as well as kindness, without it he was just a large body with a criminal's brain that they kept locked in the cellar. It was no wonder the poor man went coo-coo bananas! But really, Frankenstein misunderstood the most incredible thing about his work, which was not just that he created life, but that it was feeling. He allowed his former assistant to torment his “experiment” and it drove him mad quickly. This was a beautiful but tragic movie for our creature as he was just trying to live and understand his new (and often painful) life.

[iiboronii]

OMG WHAT IF ARTIC ASSOCIATES AVIE WITH PERIWINKLE FLOWERS OR GIVES SOME TO HER AS A GIFT

Them being blue reminds me of your banner image, and this page says they represent "early and sincere friendship" :D

Sometimes I think about that scene of them outside the factory where Artic's explaining how the wings work and Avie brought her snacks and I just smile. They're besties your honor!!!!!

I imagine it'd be hard to find fresh flowers given the state of the valley, and the Onceler promoting fake flowers bc "They come in any shape and color no matter the season, and you never have to worry about them wilting! Who needs real flowers anyways!"

So I'm picturing Artic flying into what's left of the valley, trespassing on company property, to find some ouo

Maybe they end up in one of those windowsill planters, being well taken care of and faring much better than they would at the mercy of an axe-hacker. And a sweet scent in the air whenever Avie walks by the window -u-

STOP THIS IS SOOO CUTE I LOVE ARTIC AND AVIE AS BESTIES THEY'RE LITERALLY THE BESTEST FRIENDS EVER <3 They just chill in my head sometimes tbh, going about their lives and doin' whatever.

No but I can see Avie being SO SHY to take the flowers Artic got for her. She's a social butterfly, but she's never been great at recieving gifts or anything. There's always this "oh no, are you sure?" moment with her when you give her ANYTHING. And she's super sentimental so her estate is decorated with a whole bunch of knick knacks that she's recieved over the years :)

Ohhh the Onceler. Back at it again, promoting his business. "Try these fake flowers! They'll never die, as they're made entirely out of plastic! Just like the entire city will be soon! You could never find this shade in the wild, no matter how hard you tried, but we have it here for you, ready to purchase at your nearest retailer!" One day, Avie's lamenting to Artic about how she misses real flowers, just something pretty and bright and alive, and then a lightbulb goes off in Artic's head. There's gotta be some real flowers around here, right?

So Artic, slightly defiantly, because she's annoyed at the Onceler for being... Like That, soars into the now barren Truffula Valley, scouring the land for flowers. Anything, really, that would give Avie something nice to look at and care for. And then she finds something perfect!!! Periwinkles!! And ofc Artic knows what the meaning is and I'm sure she's like "yeahhhh that's exactly what I was looking for!!"

And like I said, Avie loves gifts but she's very shy about getting them. "You thought of me?" is the first thing that comes out of her mouth when she's presented with 'em. It's somehow surprising that somebody would think of her with such a sweet gesture. And Artic is like "yeah? It was either you or the axe, and I think you'll take much better care of them." Eventually Avie takes them and Artic asks her if she knows flower language and ofc Avie has no clue. So Artic explains that periwinkles are all about friendship and by the end of it Avie is tearing up a little bc it's such a sweet and lovely gesture. "You thought of me because we're friends?" It ends with Avie giving Artic a biiiiiiig tight hug and because she's just so grateful that she's got someone so kind, thoughtful, and genuine in her corner.

Avie cares for the periwinkles sooo gently. They end up in her kitchen windowsill planter so that she can see them every morning when she wakes up to make herself breakfast. They always seem to perk up and say good morning to her when she comes in with their fragrant, delicate smell! They thrive, of course, in Avie's windowsill, representing how her friendship with Artic is thriving and growing!

And Avie wants to return the favor. Thankfully, she's crafty! So she makes friendship bracelets (I'm picturing the threaded ones, something like this!) for them. Artic's has blue flowers and a purple chain, while Avie's is the inverse (loosely based on your banner image, ofc). Avie's all embarrassed to give Artic her bracelet bc she's worried that her bracelet making skills aren't all that good, and she babbles on about how the periwinkles were really sweet and she wanted to return the favor and she hopes it's not subpar- but I can see Artic being like "nono, this is good. Don't worry."

So yeah in conclusion Artic and Avie are the best friends ever <3

[eddywoww]

20. you’re in a car with a beautiful boy and you're trying not to tell him that you love him. - see? i won't send any more. i controlled myself. aren't you proud of me?

the way you're about to hate me afhidhgeiohgoeh

I was listening to my favorite fall out boy song The Kids Aren't Alright and came up with this. I'm deeply sorry.

(tw for death mention)

"I think you're my best friend."

Eddie stared out at the green grass, eyes going a little distant as Steve sat next to him in a suit. Pressed lines and clean skin, freshly shaved from the morning.

Eddie loved him so much it hurt.

But you know, sometimes it isn't the right time. It wasn't the right time to say anything. Not with the scent of flowers still fresh in their noses. Not with the haunting imprint of dirt and friends and cloudy, drifting skies moving above them. As they buried him.

Eddie wanted to cry but it wasn't happening. He kind of figured Wayne would tell him to shut the fuck up right now if he could. Stop thinking so much, stop worrying so much. Take Steve on a date. Yes, I think he likes you. Stop asking dumb questions, Eddie.

If he thought hard enough, he could still hear Wayne's voice. His accent. He could still smell the scent of tobacco on him.

"What about Robin?" Eddie asked, something like a joke.

"Yeah, you're right. You're just below Robin. Sorry, buddy. Gotta keep the quota going." Steve said. It felt off.

Eddie wanted to reach out, pull him in for a hug. Steve was weird about hugs these days. His body hurt all the time and he liked his personal space. But he liked when Eddie touched him. Would come to Eddie for a cuddle, time and time again. Letting him in where he wouldn't let anyone else.

They were always on the precipice of something. Always on the edge of touching and existing, breathing in the essence of each other. A lot like codependency. A lot like something they should probably talk about eventually.

But not today.

"I think he would have hated the suit, right?" Eddie asked, voice falling flat. He was right, though. Wayne would have fucking hated being buried in a suit.

Steve looked at Eddie with these eyes. These big encompassing eyes, like he could see right through him. Into the depths of his aching heart, as full of dirt and maggots and disgusting, painful hope as it was.

Steve could always see every little piece of Eddie. He just never said anything.

"Hey, at least you got one of his hats on him. He'd have loved that." Steve said, a smile quirking his lips. He and Wayne had gotten so much closer, only for him to be ripped way from them just as quickly.

Eddie missed him. He missed Wayne telling Steve war stories, making him laugh in their tiny trailer.

He missed Wayne.

And he wanted to turn to Steve and tell him how much he appreciated him. How much he fucking loved every single part of him. The words felt stuck in his throat.

He looked over at Steve, taking in the bags under his eyes. The absolute pain in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." Eddie said, without explanation. What was he sorry for? Sorry he fell in love with Steve. Sorry that Wayne got swept up with cancer and bad health. Sorry that time seemed to be passing too fast.

"You don't have to be," Steve said, as if he understood every single implication. "Let's go home. I'll make some dinner and we can watch a movie and- and if you don't wanna cry, I'll cry for the both of us. A river. I'll cry a river until you get sick of me. Sound good?"

Eddie felt tears prick at his eyes and he let out a strained, relieved laugh.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

[eadanga]

The Press Secretary Part 9 (NSFW)

Summary: Chris the mayor of town is married to his wife Becca.  When he hires a new press secretary who happens to be his lost love old  feelings resurface and Chris finds it hard to resist the desire he once  had for her

Parings: ChrisxMC

Chris laid in his bed sleeping peacefully when he heard knocks at his door he grumbles as he sleepily gets up “Who the hell is knocking on my door at this time?” He slowly walks to the door and opens it

“Chris!” Zach walks in and turns to him looking him up and down “You’re not dressed yet? What are you still doing in bed?”

Chris looks at the time then shakes his head “Sorry the bed was just so comfortable and I was”

“Dreaming about a certain someone?” Zach smirks Chris chuckles as he playfully shoves him “Whoa!” Zach tumbles to the ground

“Oh sorry man” Chris helps him up “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength”

“I can see that you need to stop going to the gym so much now let’s hurry and get you dressed you can’t go in your boxers”

 Chris laughs “I know just let me shower and “Chris you’re running late and you want to shower now? Go wash up”

Chris rolls his eyes “Relax I’ll take a quick one I’m not going smelling”

Zach groans “Fine”

Chris chuckles as he enters the bathroom and turns the shower on

“Chris what did you do to this suit? You trying to go down the aisle looking crazy?! Oh boy you need help”

Chris laughs as he hops in the shower

****

“Well what you think Emily?” Kaitlyn grins as she looks at Emily’s makeup

Emily looks at her makeup and grins “I love it really brings out my eyes”

“I’m glad you will get something tonight”

“Kaitlyn!” Emily playfully punches her as Kaitlyn laughs

“Oh don’t you want Chris to see you looking amazing?”

“It’s about Abbie and Tyler today Kaitlyn not me”

Abbie’s voice rings from behind “But it can be about you too!”

“Abbie you’re special day not mine”

“Come on! As wedding present to me!”

Emily giggles “Stop that Abbie”

Kaitlyn rounds the corner “Hey you ready yet!”

“Yes we wanna see you Abbie”

“Almost! It’s hard getting my shoes on in this dress! Hold me still sis I don’t want to fall”

“You’ve almost got it there you go!”

Abbie sighs the giggles “Ok here I come” She walks out in a beautiful classic traditional wedding dress with her sister Kim holding her train “How do I look?”

Kaitlyn and Emily squeal “You look so beautiful Abbie!”

Abbie giggles “Thanks you think Tyler would love it”

Kaitlyn scoffs “If he doesn’t then he’s blind”

Emily grins “You look amazing”

Kaitlyn smirks “You’re just forgetting something?”

Abbie looks around “What did I forget?”

Kim hands her a bouquet “Your flowers!”

Abbie smiles then takes her flowers “Thanks let’s get me married”

****

Kaitlyn stands next to Zach and fixes his bowtie “You’re not gonna dance down the aisle are you?”

Zach grins “Please I’m saving the dancing till the reception I’m breaking out all the moves” Kaitlyn giggles as he offers his arm “Shall we Ms. Kaitlyn?”

“We shall Mr. Zach”

As they walk down the aisle Chris sees Emily and looks her up and down he feels his heart race

Emily giggles “Chris we don’t have time for you to be in awe”

Abbie nods “Yes Chris you two gotta walk now”

Chris chuckles “Sorry Abb but I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life”

Abbie rolls her eyes as she tries not to smile “You can flirt later start walking”

Chris offers his arm and Emily loops it around his as they walk Chris whispers to her “If this is how you look in a bridesmaid dress I can’t wait to see your wedding gown”

Emily blushes as she smirks “You can take it off me later”

Chris groans “Emily please don’t turn me on my pants is already tight”

Emily giggles as they separate. As the wedding goes on Emily notices that Chris’s eyes on her she blushes.

“…I now pronounce you husband and wife you may kiss the bride”

As Tyler and Abbie share their kiss Emily smiles as she claps imagine her and Chris sharing their kiss at the altar

****

The reception goes on Chris and Emily dance together Chris grins as he pulls her closer

“Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“It was beautiful but I was too focused on you” Chris kisses her forehead

Emly grins “Is it the dress?”

“It’s more than that but the dress certainly amplifies it”

Emily giggles “And you look amazing for someone who overslept”

Chris chuckles “Zach told you I was enjoying my bed”

“We all were the rehearsal dinner went on late”

“Yeah I was exhausted” Chris smiles “But now that we’ve made an appearance why don’t we go have some fun?”

Emily smiles “Of course”

They quickly say their goodbyes to everyone and head up to Chris’s hotel room. As soon as he opens the door Chris pushes Emily against the door kissing her deeply Emily reaches for him but Chris pins her hands on the door “Not so fast I want to pay you back for teasing me earlier”

Emily giggles as he lifts her up and places her on the bed. Chris pins her hands down as he kisses and sucks on her neck

“Chris! You’re gonna leave a mark”

“That’s the point” He sucks harder as his hand goes between her legs Emily moans as he rubs her “Fuck Em you’re so wet”

“Chris mmmm that feels so good”

Chris lifts her up and unzips her dress and pulls it off her. He goes to removes his own clothing but Emily stops him

“Let me help you with that” She removes all his clothing while kissing him deeply

Chris’s muscles contract as she touches his chest “Oh God your touch is amazing”

“Mmmm so is yours”

Chris pulls her back down on the bed and takes her nipples in his mouth and sucks on it as she moans. He kisses down her down her body before she cups his face with 2 hands and brings it back to her face.

“My turn Chris” She flips him over and slowly moves down his body till she reaches his harden member. She licks the tip as Chris hisses in pleasure. She slowly drags her tongue as Chris groans

“Fuck Em that’s amazing”

“Good” She takes him in his mouth as he groans

“Em don’t stop”

“I won’t till you come”

“I can come by looking at you”

Emily smirks “No you’re coming in my mouth”

Chris grips the bedsheets as he has his release “Fuck!” Emily smirks and she climbs back up to him and kisses him “I’m ready for you Em”

“Mm you sure?”

Chris pulls closer “Yes ride me”

Emily goes down slowly on him as she moans “You feel so good Chris”

Chris tightens his grip as he growls “I swear Em I’m gonna explode if you don’t move”

Emily giggles as she moves slowly up and down then moves faster Chris grips her ass as he kisses her “Fuck that’s it don’t stop Emily”

“Oh Chris!”

“I want you creaming all over my dick Em”

Emily moans as they come together as they catch their breath Chris smiles “That was so hot”

“Like you Chris”

Chris chuckles as he kisses her softly “I love you Emily”

Emily smiles “I love you too Chris”

Chris kisses her deeply “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that” He cups her cheek “Soon as we get back I’m gonna divorce Becca I want you not her”

Emily smiles “Ok Chris”

Tags: @mfackenthal @indiacater @the-soot-sprite @darley1101 @jared2612 @choicesfanatic86

[mlplovelight]

Ch. 6 - Ponyville

“So what do you think of Ponyville, TWILIGHT SPARKLE?”

Applejack asks you this as soon as you reach the town gates, so all you really have to say is:

“It sure has buildings.”

“Hehe, fair,” Applejack chuckles.

“Give her a break, Applejack,” Sweetcream Scoops scoffs and taps Applejack on the shoulder as she passes by. “Let her have a minute before you start asking questions.”

“Sorry, I just get excited,” Applejack rubs the back of her neck and Sweetcream Scoops rolls her eyes with a weird smile on her face.

While Sweetcream Scoops and Berryshine say their goodbyes to Applejack before taking off to wherever they’re off to, you decide to take stock of this Ponyville real quick, and yea it sure does have some buildings alright.

There’s a two-story shop on your right hoof side just as you walk through the town gate, you can tell cuz it says ‘shop’ on the sign, and even that building standing right next to you feels miniscule compared to the crumbling spires and castles of Old Equestria that you’re familiar with.

In fact, the whole town feels tiny. You can see another gate leading OUT of town off in the distance, even though you just got here! it almost feels more like a pitstop than a town, with only a small handful of buildings, and just a few ponies walking to and fro across its dirt roads.

What’s weird though is that every time two ponies cross each other in the road, they stop to say hello or even engage in full conversation with each other, some of them even meeting at a crossroad and then walking together the rest of their way. You certainly hope you aren’t expected to be that friendly, that sounds like a nightmare.

As long as no one perceives you, you’ll be good.

“Howdy, stranger!” a woman approaches you from behind and you jump literally ten feet in the air with a yelp. Well not literally ten feet, but you do literally jump. “Oh, uh, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!”

The woman is a very purple pony, with soft hair curled around her face like a comfy pillow, which is fitting because she looks half-asleep, despite her seemingly friendly demeanor. No wonder she’s tired though, she’s dragging a suitcase behind her that’s practically as big as her whole body is.

“Daisy Dreams!” Applejack says, grabbing Daisy Dreams’ attention and rescuing you from a potential social situation. You take the save with grace and hide behind Applejack. “It’s been a while! What brings you to town?”

“Just business as usual,” Daisy Dreams chuckles. “Gotta lug some merchandise for a friend of mine in town, you know how it is.”

“Always on the go, Daisy,” Applejack says with a smile. “You oughtta relax sometime, take a moment to smell the flowers.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Applejack,” Daisy Dreams sticks out her tongue. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were practically fused to your shop.”

“I ain’t in the shop now, am I?” Applejack crosses her forelegs and tilts her head up. She’s affecting a powerfully smug posture, you’re pretty impressed.

“Yeah? I saw you just got back in town yourself,” Daisy Dreams gives a very sinister and evil smirk. “Where ya headed?”

“I mean, I’m goin’ back to the shop NOW, yeah,” Applejack stammers and kicks her hoof across the dirt. You are no longer impressed. “But I’ll have you know I’m plannin’ a big expedition!”

“No kidding!” Daisy Dreams says. “You’ll have to tell me all about it when I’m not lugging so much cargo.”

“Will do!” Applejack nods her head. “Pleasure chattin’ with ya, Daisy Dreams!”

“You as well, Applejack,” Daisy Dreams returns Applejack’s nod, and then turns her attention to you, and while you look away to avert her gaze, you wish you had some kind of spell that would make anyone who looks at you turn to stone medusa style. “And welcome to Ponyville, stranger!”

The woman trots off and you curl your nose up in contempt.

“Is everypony in this town so FRIENDLY?” you ask irritably.

“Pretty much,” Applejack laughs. She moves to touch your shoulder, but backs off after you recoil. “Stick with me though, I’ll take the brunt of the conversations.”

“If I’m being honest,” you say sternly, “I’d rather just go to the library and be left in peace.”

“Hm, okay that’s fair,” Applejack sighs and hangs her head. What’s her problem? She perks up right afterward and points into town with her hoof. “It’s on the far side of town, up the hill on yer right over there. Building with a red roof, you see it?”

“I do,” you say, and begin to trot off before looking back at Applejack. She immediately darts her eyes someplace else as you look toward her. Again, what is her deal? She’s so weird, you don’t understand her at all.

You know if Emerald Ray heard you say that, she’d be all ‘well maybe you should get to know her better’. Fussy, pestering ghost.

Ughhhh, but you DID promise her that you’d try to get along, and you also told Applejack you’d let her give you the tour, so…

“But first, you promised me a tour,” you say, barely exerting the will power to not grit your teeth.

“I did!” Applejack’s whole posture stands up straight, like she was just possessed or something. “You really wanna take the tour?”

“Whatever, just show me around,” you sigh, eager to get on with this before you change your mind and chicken out. “But I’m limiting us to ONE random conversation with a stranger. If a second pony tries to talk to us, I’m booking it to the library.”

“Hehe, ‘booking’ it, that was nice,” Applejack laughs. You didn’t intend that pun at all, and hearing Applejack’s laughter at your unintentional joke makes you feel weird. Your cheeks get all hot, and you feel like something is going on with your stomach. But it’s… nice. It feels good to get praised.

“Yes, well,” you say sharply, drawing yourself up, “I am a master at many things, including comedy.”

Applejack guides you on the tour and quite frankly there isn’t a lot to see; there’s the library, obviously, a couple of private homes, a sweet shop, the scrap shop, and the general goods store. Oh, and a couple community centers.

What is odd to you is the ‘couple of private homes’; you would’ve thought a town would have more buildings for people to live in, but apparently most of these buildings were erected a long time ago, and building more has just never been in the cards for the ponies who live here, so most of them sleep under the stars.

It strikes you as quaint, and all too familiar. You have no idea when the last time you slept in a real bed was, probably not since you were a child but all your memories of childhood are fuzzy and\or horrifying so you’re not really sure.

The only building Applejack actually takes you inside is the sweets shop, where a vibrant cream-colored pony is standing behind the desk. She gasps when she sees Applejack and comes out to greet her, and you slouch and groan and brace yourself for another one of these awkward conversations.

“Applejack, how the heck are ya!” the pony says, grabbing Applejack’s hoof and shaking it vigorously.

“Pleased as punch, Honeybelle!” Applejack grins ear to ear, she really must be as pleased as she says. “How ‘bout yourself? Fancy seein’ you in town!”

“Yeah, I’m taking over the shop for Ribbon Heart while she’s out,” Honeybelle shrugs. “You know I hate working hard, but hey a friend’s a friend, right?”

“Yep,” Applejack chuckles. “Is Ribbon Heart already out? I thought she was leavin’ tomorrow.”

“Nope, she just took off this morning,” Honeybelle says, and you are SO LOST. “Probably gonna be a while, y’know? The rock farm is pretty far away.”

“True,” Applejack sighs. “Dang, wish I’d gotten a chance to see her off.”

“Maybe she’ll bring you back a souvenir,” Honeybelle shrugs.

“Like a rock?” Applejack says with a devilish smirk.

“Like a maaaaagic rock!” Honeybelle says with a life. “C’mon in here, girl! Make yourself at home!”

“Maybe later,” Applejack says, “I promised my new friend the tour, so I only popped my head in to say hi.”

“Oh, I didn’t even see you there!” Honeybelle gasps, and as she reaches for your hoof, you jump back and hiss.

“Good,” you say firmly. “Keep it that way.”

“Uhhhh,” Honeybelle narrows her eyes, then arches an eyebrow and looks at Applejack.

“Don’t mind her,” Applejack says quickly. “We’ve been on the road a while, nerves are frazzled.”

“That right? Really take you ‘a while’ to get to the scrap meet and back?” Honeybelle scoffs, but before Applejack can mount a retort, Honeybelle just laughs. “Whatever, it’s no big deal. Feel free to swing by anytime, I’ll be phoning it in here all day!”

“Will do, Honeybelle,” Applejack smiles. “Pleasure seein’ you.”

“You too, sweetheart!” Honeybelle gives a big smile and a wave as Applejack heads out the door with you in tow.

“Alright that was the one conversation I promised,” you grumble. “I’m heading to the library.”

“Sure,” Applejack smiles at you and nods affirmatively. Very casual, very professional. You appreciate that kind of thing. Not everything has to be a whole conversation. “I’ll be at the shop if you need anything. Er, MY shop, the scrap shop. Not the general goods store, it has the ‘shop’ sign outside so—uh, y’know, it might be confusing.”

You are trying really hard not to laugh. She almost gives you a run for your money in the ‘dumb awkward girl’ competition.

“So you sell the scrap you take from Old Equestria?” you ask, and honestly you’re not even sure why you did that, what about going to the library? Well, you’re curious so that’s why you asked, but still that’s a weird thing to do! You can’t just be asking people things!

“Mhm,” Applejack says. “I take the stuff that’s old and broken from the ruins, and I make it new again. And if I can’t figure out what somethin’ used to be, or if it’s way too banged up to go back to what it used to be, I make somethin’ entirely new.

“Ponies come to my shop and they ask for this or that thing, sometimes knick-knacks, sometimes tools, and if I have that thing, I give it to ‘em! If I don’t have it, I tell ‘em I can go get it, and then I do! Simple as.”

“That’s…” you can feel yourself about to say something really stupid and there’s a part of you SCREAMING at yourself not to finish that sentence, but your dumb horse lips just move of their own volition and cringe sound comes out of your fail mouth. “…really cool!”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHY DID YOU SAY THAT, SHE’S GONNA THINK YOU’RE A LOSER! YOU CAN’T JUST BE LIKE ‘thAT’s rEALly COOoL’, you hear that?? YOU HEAR THAT MOCKING TONE??? THAT’S WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE.

“Thanks!” Applejack says, and she has a big smile on her face. A big pity smile cuz she doesn’t want you to know just how stupid she thinks you are. “You’re welcome to swing by, check it out if you’d like.”

DO NOT SAY YES. YOU WILL BE TRAPPED IN A BUILDING WITH A CUTE GIRL SURROUNDED BY COOL STUFF SHE MADE AND YOU’RE GONNA FEEL COMPELLED TO HAVE OPINIONS ABOUT IT. DON’T DO IT. DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT—

“Yeah, I’d like that!” you blurt out FOOLISHLY.

WHYYYYYYYYY DID YOU SAAAAAYYYYYYY THAAAAAAAAAAAT???????????

“Awesome!” Applejack jumps up and whinnies, before taking off and beckoning you to follow. “C’mon, it’s right this way!”

“Yeah,” you say awkwardly, “I’m right behind you.”

You really are the stupidest pony who’s ever lived, you know that?

Of course you do. HOWEVER!

Maybe just this once you can let yourself be a little stupid.

[neostriatum]

水仙 | Suisen

[AO3] [Dreamwidth]

-

The flower Narcissus, whose hakotoba meaning is "self-esteem".

-

It’s a late evening, silhouetted by yellow street lights and the occasional flickering neon to mark his way home. The substitute teacher for maths, Tokunaga Haruki, was kind enough to let him work odd jobs under the table in exchange for spare yen and a quick meal, but he couldn’t always if he didn’t want the excuse of detention to wear out.

He sighed, one fist clutched around the wad of bills he’d been meticulously saving. Hopping on a train to visit his sister was one thing, but it was quite another to do it without a reliable income and on the sly. Despite the cheap bowl of udon, he could still taste the pork and egg hours later, his stomach still grumbled in quiet complaint.

One of the shopkeepers for the konbini he stocked for sometimes waved to him as he ducked under a nearby building’s overhang to avoid the fine sprinkle of tonight’s oncoming rain.

“Evening, Ayame-san,” Katsuya called out, hitching his bookbag higher as he waved back, “Grandkids giving you any trouble?”

“Cheerful as ever,” The shopkeeper called out, leaning against her shop’s window with a mischievous twinkle of her eyes, “Though they do miss their senpai.”

He laughed, feeling the pang of Shizuka’s absence even as he felt heartened by the merry opinion of Ayame-san and her family. A thought made him pause, and he decided to turn toward the shop, winking impishly as he picked up a handful of snacks that he knew her grandkids liked. The shopkeeper tsked in amusement as she tallied them up, “You’re spoiling them, you know.”

Grinning despite the way he carefully counted up the yen to pay for it, he felt a little lighter regardless, “Gotta let them know I didn’t forget about them, yanno?”

“I know,” Ayame-san said warmly, sliding over a foil-wrapped nikuman that still held the vestiges of heat despite his protesting grimace, “Get home safely, you hear?”

Picking up the nikuman, mouth already watering at the smell of pork, potato, and cabbage, Katsuya bowed to Ayame-san, “You, too, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Good night, Katsuya.”

-

The hot food kept him company as the predicted rain started to come down a little harder. He had stopped a few minutes in to drape his coat over his bag, reservedly refusing from shivering as he savoured each bite.

He kept to the pooled glow of the street lamps, more distant between each other as he got closer to the apartment he shared with his father. Knowing the old man, the utilities would be rationed again, meaning sneaking into a dark room and slipping into bed. The hour was late enough that he would get just enough sleep for an early start tomorrow, getting a headstart on the homework due that day.

The wad of yen felt heavy in his pockets, partitioned off in case his father saw fit to search him for more drinking money. Katsuya sighed around his nikuman, dredging up the will to eat the last few bites and carefully folding up the aluminum foil.

Looking up to the stars, he wished there would be a friend who wouldn’t abandon him, no matter the circumstances.

His wistful gazing nearly made him miss the lurking shadows in a quickly-approaching alley, and he was forced to quickly side-step the hand extended to hook around his bookbag. “Hey, watch it!” he snapped, shouldering the bag more closely behind him, “That’s not yours!”

“Jounouchi,” A voice purred, and he stiffened, recognizing one of the erstwhile gang members he tried not to fall in with - not too often, at least. “My, you’re looking… cold, tonight. Care to warm up?”

His face set stonily, knuckles white on his bag, “No.”

Another one leered from behind the other, just barely eclipsed by the streetlight. “What’s a matter, gaijin? Too good for some Nihonjin?”

He knew there were some debts to settle with them, one too many favours for odd jobs that left him wandering around the town at night - his only boon his intimidating stature and strong fists as he collected debts from other poor souls that ran across this gang. In a brief moment of despondency, he wondered how many of the leering boys in front of him had been on the other side of this line, sunk too deep to get out of the morass.

Unfortunately, these particular members would never be in his shoes, too-unnatural of hair and too poor to keep saying no. His frown etched in the slightest bit more, “I’m expected home.”

Ordinarily, that would be the end of the discussion, gossip flying on swift feet throughout the neighborhood to recount the story of his father throwing bottle after bottle to anyone he brought home for an amicable dinner. Not tonight, though, and his heart sunk at the knowledge that getting into a fight might end on a different note this time.

It was too dark in this section of the neighborhood—one of his shortcuts, far from any intersection or row of shops that dictated lighting—and tonight’s leader, Takano Kichirou, stepped out from the murky dark to encourage the others to begin surrounding him.

“Your father can wait a little longer, can’t he?” Kichirou smirked, “After all, it’s not like he’ll notice.”

“Watch it!” He snarled. Shitty home life or not, he understood why his father was so often morose—he income as an insurance clerk was nothing compared to being a factory worker, and half of their family leaving didn’t help.

A gaggle of laughter met him, and he forced himself not to step back, knowing they were using against him the same tactics he participated in so often. He frowned to himself, knowing that grabbing the switch knife he kept hidden would cost too much time to grab, precious seconds that could be used to try deescalating their dispute while he waited for the inevitable wolf to circle behind him.

So- he stalled. “Bit low of you to turn on me. Getting greedy?”

That rippled through the gang, uncertainty fracturing everyone’s bonds. Kichirou himself paused, feeling the mood shift, and he frowned at Katsuya, “Not everyone picks and chooses who they associate with. Sure you aren’t feeling better than us?”

“You know me,” Katsuya joked, a quirk to his pressed-thin lips, “Always the underdog.”

It was an old joke, completely off the cuff and a gamble—it paid off, chuckles scattering among them. The act turned Kichirou sour, and he flicked a sleeve, letting his own switchblade fall into his hand. “Debts are not a joke.”

Katsuya eyed the gleaming metal, “Never said they were.”

“H-hey, Kichirou-san,” One of the lower-end gang members, Tsutomu, piped up, “I thought you said we were just going to talk to Jounouchi-kun?”

“Yeah, why don’t we just talk,” Katsuya coaxed, heart going out for how young the other was. They had always tried to keep their youngest members shielded, but it seemed the nebulous cause for Kichirou’s temper tonight had cast that aside.

The knife pointed at him was wickedly sharp, “You’re either in or you’re out, Katsuya.”

He frowned. Damned if I  do, damned if I don’t…

Immersed as he was in trying to find the conciliatory middle path, the arm abruptly slung around his shoulder was an unwelcome surprise, particularly since he had been maneuvered away from the simple protections of the street light.

Biting back a flinch, he tried to assess if this was the long-expected knife in his gut. Sure enough, the spark of metal came into view, but instead of drawing blood, it pointed itself back at Kichirou, “I think you’re not in a position to ask that.”

The words were strong, a surprising contrast to the gentle way the hand at Katsuya’s shoulder pressed through his rain-dampened shirt. He found himself settling into the motion, shocked once more at how his weight was supported.

It gave him presence of mind to shift his own stance, more within reach of the slip of a knife stowed carefully away. Whomever it was that held his back, standing so stoically, moved with him. The unified front it presented was reassuring, and made Kichirou step back.

Katsuya was no coward, but also was he no fool - he decided to throw his lot in with this stranger, faith making him certain it was the correct choice.

His voice was firm, “Kichirou. Leave off.”

The gang leader looked toward him, eyes flicking to the stranger who had entered their impromptu arena, and some look must have passed between them and the drumming rain - Kichirou frowned but nodded sharply. It convinced the others to leave quickly afterward, scattering into the nighttime solitude.

Only after watching the tail ends of the gang leave did he sigh, forgetting he himself wasn’t alone when the hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. “You okay?” The other asked, and the weight of the quiet question was more soothing than offensive. Katsuya shrugged limply, unwilling to let this stranger’s arm be dislodged by so casual of a movement. There was a pause, and then carefully, “...Do you want me to walk you home?”

It was a tempting offer, surprisingly so given his usual reticence to let anyone around his father. But between the constancy of his surprise companion and his relief at an unsequestered presence of self, he found himself agreeing, nodding his head tiredly, “Thank you.”

Instead of acknowledging the favour, as most would, Katsuya instead received that same comforting hand trailing down to his own, a feather-light touch slipping between his fingers that made his heart hammer.

“My name’s Honda Hiroto,” was the offered trade, and his lips twitched, making him glance up at the other teenager now sidled up by his side. It was difficult to see more than a glimpse between the pools of light, but he decided he rather liked the earnest smile that met him.

He nudged Honda with an elbow, “Jounouchi Katsuya. Nice to meet ya.”

-

When they watched their classmate a few years later, sitting in the back of the classroom and fiddling with a puzzle from a box where both looked to be poured from pure gold, they leaned against each other.

“Wonder what the punk’s doing,” Hiroto mused, idly sliding the small container of curry rice over to Katsuya as they shared a narrow bench, “Seems like he’s been working on that thing for forever.”

Katsuya shrugged, the motion carrying over to the other with rippled amusement. He dropped half of his scallion pancake into Hiroto’s bento box. The trade, as always, was performed absently, both of them happening to arrange the other’s favourite foods into their own meals as a matter of habit.

They watched as Mouto rummaged through the box, seeming to pick a piece and test it in some obscure corner. Both of them were placing bets on what the final shape would be, but it seemed like not even the kid knew, despite having a game shop owner for a grandfather.

Perhaps there was no solution at all, Katsuya thought, and his stomach grumbled so thoroughly that he discarded the idea.

“You think he’d want a lending hand?” Hiroto asked.

“Nah,” Katsuya dismissed, the words leaping to his lips, “Or not yet, I don’t think.”

-

Author's Notes

In Chinese culture Narcissus tazetta subsp. chinensis (Chinese sacred lilies), which can be grown indoors, is widely used as an ornamental plant.[258][259] It was probably introduced to China by Arab traders travelling the Silk Road prior to the Song Dynasty for medicinal use.[51][258][259] Spring-flowering, they became associated with Chinese New Year, signifying good fortune, prosperity and good luck[260] and there are many legends in Chinese culture associated with Narcissus.[261][262][263] In contrast to the West, narcissi have not played a significant part in Chinese Garden art,[264] however, Zhao Mengjian in the Southern Song Dynasty was noted for his portrayal of narcissi.[265][266] Narcissus bulb carving and cultivation has become an art akin to Japanese bonsai. The Japanese novel Narcissu contains many references to the narcissus, where the main characters set out for the famed narcissus fields on Awaji Island.[267][268]

- Narcissus in culture § Culture (Wikipedia)

Additional title reference: Narcissus (plant) § Culture (Wikipedia)

Ultimately discarded, but briefly pondered: an alternate riff of the meaning "fairy over rippling waters", but had needed editing due to western contemporary connotations of fairy = gay (derogatory), despite vague potential to have been used as a reference to some of Jounouchi's ace cards (Graceful Dice and Skull Dice), to emphasize how his luck is intertwined with his sense of self-esteem.

Written for @projsakuraygo, which ran from 2021-2022. When Shopkeeper Ayame-san refers to Jounouchi as a senpai, it's being used in the sense of someone who's looked up too, but not a literal "big brother" like ani/-ki or oni/-san (reference used: The Role of Senpai by Marc Faux).

Accordingly, to keep with the flower theme of Sakura, Ayame's name means "Iris flower" (Behind the Name). Takano Kichirou's first name means "lucky son" (Japanese Name Generator), and Katayama Tsutomu's first name means "worker" (Japanese Name Generator). I had a third name slated, Shinohara Aoi, whose first name means "blue, or hollyhock" (Japanese Name Generator), but I wasn't quite able to squeeze another character in to the plot without expanding my wordcount.

As for the nikuman (Wikipedia), I wanted something for Jounouchi to eat that was 1) equivalent to fast food, and 2) not another bowl of noodles (ergo, more street food). This seemed the closest alternative I reached after a couple minutes of clicking around on Wikipedia, and conveniently are also a food that's sold in Japanese convenience stores. They taste very good! Here's recipe: (Just One Cookbook, back-up link at the Internet Archive).

I wanted to explore some pre-canon scenes a little bit - a theme I've followed in many works, most recently dbḥt-ḥtp, and more pertinently The Changing of the Gods - in an effort to better understand the characters.

As the goal of Project Sakura was to portray difficulties of a particular sort that characters from YGO would struggle with, Jounouchi seemed a particularly intriguing match to the intended exposition. He grew up in an environment he struggled with, and yet clearly came out the other side as an exceptionally kind individual. Digging in a little bit to what I knew of his story, I stumbled upon some historical parallels in terms of the Lost Generation and the general turbulence that Japan - like many countries - had to deal with economically and thus socially in the 80s and 90s. That, no doubt, had a strong impact on Jounouchi, and likely played a strong role into how he became entangled (and eventually de-tangled) with a gang to begin with.

It seemed like a natural conclusion to involve Honda as a step toward resolving the emotional turmoil of his economic situation in the form of compassionate support that would grow to a more involved relationship, and eventually toward a very near pre-scene of the beginning of canon itself when they see Yugi.

[mustachedmushroom]

Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Oan you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee!/ Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Oome on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What gia/nt flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, orjust Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Oan I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I jus/t feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Oan I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Oan we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

if this post gets 5k notes before december 15th i will do my geography presentation (and present it infront of my class) before the due date