#de nada amigo it's all good

[reactionimagesdaily]

[Image ID: An off-white chick on a green net-striped background with the text ‘Don't text your ex’ in all caps. /End ID]

[thaleleah]

𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮)

Pairing: Billy The Kid x Fem!Nun!Reader

Warnings: ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Dark!Billy, Virgin!Reader, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, P in V, Corruption Kink, Creampie, Possessive Behavior, Masturbation, Wet Dreams/Sex Dreams, Seduction, Emotional Manipulation, Religion and Religious Beliefs, Explicit talk of gunshot wounds, blood, and the bullet's removal (kinda? Idk if it's explicit explicit, but its a little more than just mentioned), Mention of physical abuse/child abuse (not from Billy), Childhood Trauma, Mention of alcoholism, Moral/Religious conflict within one's self, My bad Spanish, Nun breaking her vows, Probably too quick of a healing process to be fucking someone but I'm not a doctor so 🤷🏻‍♀️, Using the word "drawers" instead of "panties" which is kinda cringe to me but I wanted to be somewhat accurate

Word Count: 9.6K

A/N: Billy's passed out for most of this but I hope y'all like it anyway. Please know I'm posting this and then running away. Okay, byeeeeeeeeee

Summary: When Billy stumbles into your clinic, hurt and in desperate need of care and refuge, you don't hesitate to help him. Perhaps this is God's will. Perhaps He has brought him into your life to help heal the parts of him that the cruelness of the world has soiled and broken. You are a healer by trade, both of the physical body and of faith. If this is to be God's mission for you, then it shall be done. How could you have possibly known that the young man who begged for help that fateful night would turn out to be the devil himself?

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Translations:

Por Dios - Oh my God

Que Dios te bendiga - May God bless you

Qué sorpresa! - What a surprise!

Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín - And he didn't want his mom to know. So he buried the meat in the garden

Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses - But the dog dug it up and she found out anyway. He had to wash the dishes by himself for two months

Ese niño - That kid/child

Parece que era un buen amigo - Seems like he was a good friend

Sí, él era - Yes, he was

De nada - You're welcome

Gracias, Hermana - Thanks, Sister

They say the devil can take on many forms.

He is a demon figure - with the face of a goat, horns, hooves, and a blade pointed tail.

He is a great dragon - large and terrifying, destructive and formidable in the power he holds.

He is a roaring lion - hungry and fierce as he stalks God’s children, waiting for them to fall into his trap before he attacks them like prey.

But the devil was once God’s favorite angel, amazingly beautiful and wise. The angel of light, God’s morning star - a traitor now, a trickster . . . evil.

The Lord teaches love for all, compassion and understanding despite another’s upbringing or current situation. All humans are God’s children, all made in His perfect image, brothers and sisters in unity under His loving and eternal care. You are thankful to know this, grateful that you can feel His presence coursing through your veins despite the horror that you’ve come to face daily while working at the clinic. His gift to you is your endless drive to help those in need, sitting by the bedsides of the sick and dying, applying a cool rag to their sweaty foreheads, or spoon feeding them soup to give them strength when they are too weak to do it themselves. 

It is a taxing life, and the sorrow you feel when you cannot nurse someone back to health is ever present in your heart, but the Lord is clear in your life’s mission and you will be forever thankful for the lessons you learn in this lifetime. 

He has made you a healer, using you as a vessel for His healing touch for all you come across - regardless of wealth, status, religious affiliation, or criminal record. 

Which is why when he stumbles into the clinic during the late hours of the night, face pale and hand pressing hard to his side where blood is streaming through his fingers despite the pressure, you don’t hesitate to help him. 

You think you should have - should have let him bleed to death on the clinic floor. Would God have abandoned you if you had?

“Sister Maria!” You cry instead, running to the injured man and looping his arm around your shoulders to help him lean against you. “We need fresh towels and water! And sutures! Hurry!”

Sister Maria runs in the room, bedsheets still cradled in her arms from where she had been turning over a recently discharged patient’s room. She gasps at the scene, dropping the linens on the floor as she rushes to the main utility closet. You guide the man to a bed, helping him drop onto the thin mattress with a tortured groan. One of your hands splays over his, helping to maintain pressure on the wound until Sister Maria can bring in the needed supplies. Your other hand lays gently on his sweaty forehead, thumb caressing the straight line of his nose trying to soothe him. 

His baby blue eyes stare up at you through their pained haze. 

“P-please, help,”

The devil can take on many forms and carry many names.

And yet, despite all you’ve heard about who he is and what he’s done, you never once considered Billy the Kid to be one of them. 

Misguided and uncared for - sure, but never evil. 

He’s so young. You can’t even imagine what horrors he must have had to go through to lead him to the path that he’s on now.

Perhaps it’s fate that you’ve been brought together, an opportunity for you to spread the healing power of your Lord’s love and mend not only his body but his bruised heart as well. You’ve seen too many times where hardships have hardened the minds and spirits of others, caging them off from God as they struggle with their wavering faith. 

“Don’t you worry,” You say. “The Lord is here with us. He will see you through.”

Whether he groans from your words or the pain, you’re not sure.

Sister Maria is quick to grab the supplies, dumping them on the side table. She dunks a clean cloth in the water, wringing out the excess, but pauses when she sees his face. 

“Is that— ” 

“Nevermind that!” You hiss, pulling the cloth from her hand. 

You lift his shirt, exposing the injury and the dirt dusted skin framing it. It looks horrible, blood seeping from the laceration in a steady flow and a part of you is thankful that the sight of blood doesn’t make you immediately drop to the floor like your cousin, Paul. He gasps when you touch the cloth to the wound, blood immediately seeping into the white of the cloth and marring the pure color. 

His fingers dig into the fabric of his trousers, gripping it tight as he clenches his teeth against the pain. Your free hand rubs lightly against his forehead, trying to soothe him as best you can while you clean the wound. 

You think it must be God’s mercy that he passes out before you can pull the bullet out. The pain of the forceps digging into his body as you pulled out the thick ball of lead and the shock that would have come with it would have surely dragged him under had blood loss not gotten to him first. It’s better this way - he’s safer cradled in sleep’s loving hold rather than crying and jerking about as you try to save his life. 

Sister Maria holds a small bowl out in front of you with one hand while the other delicately holds his wrist, feeling his pulse between her dainty fingers.

The bullet comes out easy, your forceps finding the lead and guiding it out of the wound’s entrance with ease. It clanks as you drop it into the tiny bowl, and you send up prayers of thanks for allowing such a quick and simple removal. The grace of your Lord has certainly just saved this man’s life.

With quick fingers, you stitch him up, practiced movements securing the wound shut before covering it with a generous dressing of cloth to keep it clean from any dirt and debris. 

His sleep isn’t restful, the pinch in his brow and the way his cheeks twitch in the flickering candlelight of the small room make that clear. Your own brows pinch as you reach a hand out to trace the furrowed skin, smoothing it out with a gentle thumb. You don’t like seeing people suffer, but it’s more often than not that the people you come into contact with while working in the clinic are in pain, or suffering, or at Heaven’s doorstep. You help who you can and pray for the souls of the ones you can’t so they may be guided to God’s kingdom where they can live in an eternal paradise by His side. It always hurts when you can’t heal someone, the feeling of failure is a stark reminder that ultimately it is the Lord who chooses to give us life, and he can choose to take it away just as quickly. 

It feels different this time though, somehow more personal in a way you can’t understand. The young man before you still has his whole life ahead of him, still so much to do and so many lives to touch. The sins that he’s committed thus far can be forgiven, if only he lifts them up to Him and asks for forgiveness. You can feel it, deep in your bones, that you need to save this man. You can’t fail. 

He’s alive, for now. And you can only do your best to make sure he stays that way. 

“He cannot stay here,” Sister Maria says quietly, gathering the red stained water and rags. “They will find him.”

You nod, gathering the small bowl with the bullet remnant and the sutures kit. “We’ll keep him here tonight and move him to the back room in the morning after he’s rested a while,”

“No,” Sister Maria says. “He cannot stay here. Helping an outlaw is punishable by death. They will hang us,”

“God will not abandon us,” You say, firmly. “We are all His children, servants and outlaw alike. He wouldn’t want us to toss him out on the street to die.”

You look over your shoulder towards the sleeping man again. His brow is furrowed again, the sweat on his face glistening in the light. You sigh before turning back to Sister Maria. “Don’t worry, Sister. I’ll think of something,”

The pacifying words seem to offer Sister Maria no comfort, and her worried eyes snap upwards as she looks towards the ceiling, voice cracking as she breathes a pleading, “Por Dios,” up towards the roof. 

The room is silent to her plea.

You don’t leave Billy’s side the entire night, sitting in the chair directly next to the bed, dabbing at his heated face and neck with a damp washcloth and changing his bandage when the first one had soiled through. He wakes a few times during the night, icy blue eyes fluttering open and locking on yours for the briefest second before slipping closed once again, a quiet sigh escaping through his slightly parted lips. 

This is the hardest part - the waiting. Waiting to see if your hard work to heal someone was enough. You keep a close eye on him, looking for signs of pain or illness, keeping an eye on the injury site to try and prevent infection. You flushed it with alcohol during the dressing change, having found an extra bottle hiding in the supply closet while grabbing some fresh cloths. Supplies like alcohol for disinfecting, while needlessly abundant in saloons and brothels, are difficult to acquire for the clinic. You think it's foolish, wasting something that can be used for healing purposes on something as pointless as getting drunk. Your father had been a drunk, drinking away his cares and woes, his only goal was to make it to the bottom of a bottle. 

You wish you would have found it sooner so you could have actually disinfected the entire wound instead of just the outside and stitches, but this is better than nothing, you suppose. The smell as you pour it over his wound makes your stomach turn, reminding you of all the times your father came home reeking of the stuff, belly full of poison and his mind, hazed with drink, still evil enough to find your mother and make her suffer as if she were the reason he deemed himself a failure in life. Billy lets out a pained moan in his sleep, body subconsciously tensing in pain as the alcohol flushes the stitched up skin, but thankfully he doesn’t wake. You don’t want him to be in pain, but there’s a part of you that selfishly thinks he’s sharing your own pain, the memory of your childhood trauma somehow seeping into his brain as you recover his wound. 

You know it’s not true, but you’re thankful he’s there with you anyway. 

When morning arrives, you’re beyond exhausted. 

The night shift always takes more out of you than the day shift and your eyes have been threatening to close since the first rays of the sun started spreading across the dust covered floor of the clinic. 

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine arrive before the sun does, the first rays of it only starting to spill over the New Mexico horizon line when their footsteps echo through the entryway. You lean forward in your seat at the sound of them, glancing over at Billy’s still sleeping frame as Sister Ann’s gentle humming of a nursery song her mother used to sing to her spreads throughout the clinic. Quick footsteps cut through the song, the humming stopping entirely as frantic whispers sound from the entryway. And then three sets of running feet are getting closer to the corner room. 

“Oh, good heavens,” Sister Catherine breathes, eyes locked on the special patient taking up the small bed. 

Sister Ann has a dainty hand clasped against her mouth in shock and Sister Maria nervously wrings her own together from behind them. 

“He was hurt,” You say, immediately defensive of the injured man. “We couldn’t leave him to die. The Lord says–”

“You don’t need to preach to us, Sister y/n,” Sister Catherine interrupts. “It’s the right thing to do. The Lord is on our side.” She’s confident in her words, and it gives you comfort you didn’t know you needed to have your beliefs validated. But she pauses, eyes flickering once again to Billy before they meet yours - the fear in her brown orbs clear as day. “The law, on the other hand, will not be.” 

“We need to move him,” You say.

“To where?” Sister Ann whispers frantically. “The sheriff and his deputies are sure to show up here. They know he’s been shot, it’s only a matter of time.”

“It is a blessing they have not come already,” Sister Maria adds.

They’re right. With Billy injured, they have to know he couldn’t have gotten far. Their only saving grace is that the Sheriff more than likely would have never believed Billy would have come to the clinic for medical attention if on the run from the law. Perhaps holed up in some abandoned alley, bleeding out while propped up against a wall. Or maybe they think he tried riding out of town, desperate to get as far away from the people hunting him as possible before inevitably succumbing to his injuries and falling off his horse in a nearby field. 

You rise from the chair, leaning over the bed slightly to rest a gentle hand on Billy’s forehead. It’s still clammy against your palm and he shivers slightly in his sleep, subconsciously pressing his head a little harder against your hand looking for comfort in his pained state. He needs to get away from here, away from any prying eyes because if he’s found, his life on this Earth is over. He is in no position to run or fight for his life. The road to recovery for him is a long one if he hopes to heal well enough to regain his strength and usual mobility. The only thing he will have to look forward to if discovered before he can is a necklace of rope and a quick fall. 

“Help me get him to the back room,” You say, sternly. In moments of uncertainty and panic, someone needs to be the guiding light. Your fellow Sisters are still as stones in their spots, all in various states of distress as they look at the man who, if discovered under their care, could very well be the catalyst that marks the end of their missions here on Earth. The Lord brought Billy to you - you need to protect him. “He can stay in the alcove until we can figure out where to take him.”

“He cannot stay in the clinic!” Sister Maria exclaims. “They will surely check every room searching for him!”

“Trust me,” You soothe. “Please, Sister. We need to move him before they come or we will all surely pay the price.”

There is a short pause, but to your frantic brain it feels like an eternity before Sister Catherine nods and gently nudges Sister Ann to the opposite side of the bed. 

“Let’s hurry,” She says, reaching to pull away the thin blanket you threw over Billy’s shaking frame at some point during the night. “I fear we don’t have much time left.”

Together, the four of you lift Billy from the bed. It’s a struggle. Even for multiple women to carry a fully grown man, it's a task and a half just to get him from the small patient room to the back area of the clinic. He whines in his sleep, his wound jostling and stitches pulling from the regretfully poor stability you have on his body as you carry him. But, somehow, he doesn’t wake. 

The back room is small, but comparatively large compared to the patient’s rooms. The entire width is the size of two patient rooms combined, but that’s not giving it much grace. It makes you sick sometimes, to see people with money spending it on lavish items, large houses and grand parties just to show off their wealth when there are people in need all around whose lives would change if they only had a fraction of the wealth the ones in good standing do. As it is, the back room of the clinic is despairingly bare - limited backstock of supplies, linens, and food are scattered among the wooden shelves lining the room. If only those wealthy men who think to only fill their pockets would hear the Lord’s call to give to the needy instead. It would make your heart happy to see these shelves filled just once. 

There’s a small alcove in the back of the room that you and the other Sisters use when times prove most trying. On the days when things are difficult, emotions are too much for you to handle alone or a patient isn’t doing well and there’s nothing you can do other than wait and pray for their recovery, you visit the alcove. It's been adorned with simple yet revenant items, a small yet beautiful cross nailed to the center of the wall, a small ceramic dish holding a wooden beaded rosary placed on the floor below it, resting on a pleasantly fluffed up pillow - ready to help guide their prayer. 

Resting against the side wall of the alcove is a folded up cot. It’s not uncommon that one of the Sisters might have to sleep at the clinic during their off shift. More often than not, they are able to return to their lodgings to sleep and reenergize for their next shift. But there are times when too many people are injured, too many of the townspeople have fallen ill to whatever flu or illness that’s crossing through the town and all hands are needed here. The foldable cot is their home away from home, and while it might not be the most comfortable, you are thankful the Lord was able to provide it lest you be made to sleep on the floor behind the extra blankets neatly folded on the shelves. 

You all adjust your grips on the young man allowing for Sister Maria to release her hold and pull back the thick blanket shielding the entrance to the alcove. You grunt under the presence of the additional weight, the awkward grip you all have on him unhelpful in the way his limp body bears down on you all. Sister Maria is quick in tying back the privacy blanket so that it stays to one side, and works to wrangle open the finicky cot. Once it’s unrolled, you help in depositing Billy down onto the makeshift bed, quickly checking his wound to make sure no stitches accidentally ripped in the journey back here before turning to accept the fresh blanket Sister Ann hands you from the shelf. 

Billy’s brow is furrowed again, breathing a little harsher probably from the pain of being jostled. You lay out the blanket over top of him and pull it up to his chin, your hand reaching out to smooth the wrinkled skin between his eyes again. 

“What do we do now?” Sister Ann asks, and Sister Catherine pulls her hand away from where it was plucking nervously at the skin at the sides of her fingers.

“We wait,” She responds, cradling Sister Ann’s damaged hand delicately between her own. “We won’t be able to move him out of the clinic before the Sheriff arrives. We’ll have to keep him hidden here until then and pray they don’t find him.”

The thought of the Sheriff and his men finding Billy here makes your stomach churn. The undeniable fate that waits for you if he’s discovered is one that you’re willing to sacrifice. He’s come here for help, God has brought him here to you for your healing and protection and you can’t fail Him just because your humanity makes you fearful of your end. It’s supposed to be a beautiful thing - death. The moment when your soul on this Earth fulfills its mission here and your granted eternal life at the side of God in the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life, a life of peace and serenity that seems so out of reach here on the soil. Fear will not keep you from looking forward to it. But you’re not done here yet, you have many years left of helping others and spreading His love to those in need. This is not your end. But if it is, it’s worth the sacrifice to try to save Billy. 

You’ll hang with him, if need be. 

Your fellow Sisters though . . . the thought of them hanging for your own choice, regardless of if you think it was the right thing to do, makes you sick. Your decisions are your own, and they shouldn’t suffer for your choices. 

Billy’s forehead unwrinkles under your gentle fingers, and you can feel your heart break as you look down at him. He’s so young still, a young man just at the beginning of his life. He has so many fine years ahead of him. He’s handsome, fit and strong - he would make a fine husband for some lucky lady, a dutiful father for his children. He’s not as evil as they say. You’ve learned to trust your instincts when it comes to people. Sometimes the most misunderstood people are the kindest, and you can’t help but think Billy is the most misunderstood of all. You can’t sense a single whisper of badness in him. 

You stand up and pull the privacy blanket back in front of the alcove, hiding Billy from sight in the safety of God’s makeshift altar. Together, you and the other Sisters make your way out of the back room. A few rooms down a sickly man is coughing up a storm, and from how hard and continuous his coughs are, you know his throat is raw. Sister Ann shoots the rest of you a worried look, but turns to grab a water carafe off of a side table before rushing down the hall towards the coughing man and away from the current situation. 

“You can head back, Sister Maria,” You say, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest. It’s going to be a long day and we’re going to need you for the night shift.”

You can tell she’s torn, both wanting to stay and help in any way she can but seeming to know that there’s nothing she can do. All there is to do is wait. After a few moments, she nods, her own hand coming up to rest on top of yours. “Que Dios te bendiga,”

You watch as she makes her way towards the front, pushing open the wooden door before jerking to a halt. “Sheriff Garrett! Qué sorpresa!”

Her words sent a spark of panic through you. It’s so soon! You knew it was coming, but it’s still so incredibly soon. You had hoped for at least a while longer to try to gather your thoughts and think of a plan of where you can take Billy, but it feels like time moves slowly as the Sheriff and two of his deputies step into the clinic.

“Sister,” Garrett responds, respectfully tipping his hat. 

Even through your panic, you still feel a twinge of irritation. A gentleman would take off his hat, but you suppose it’s better than the two men standing behind him who do nothing but trail their eyes around the clinic's entrance suspiciously (and with a clear bout of judgment).

You know for a fact these men with gold lined pockets have never given so much as a dime to the clinic. 

Sister Maria turns back to look at you and Sister Catherine, desperation clear in her eyes and you're glad that none of the men are looking at her anymore or you think her obvious distress might have given you all away.

“Have a good rest, Sister,” You say, urging Sister Maria away. Thankfully, she listens, nodding to you and then Garrett before scurrying out the door. 

“How can we help you, Sheriff?” Sister Catherine asks. 

Garrett takes a few leisurely steps along the entryway, observing the interior of the clinic with the aura of a man who thinks he can see everything. You suspect he sees nothing at all. 

“I apologize for the interruption, Sisters. I know you’re hard at work," He says. “But we’re looking for an outlaw on the run.” He pauses, looking over at the two of you with pointed eyes. At your silence, he continues. “William H. Bonney, otherwise known as Billy the Kid,”

“Oh, dear,” Sister Catherine gasps. 

You feign concern also, bringing your fingers to your mouth as a sign of shock. Garrett nods in agreement at your supposed horror. 

“As you no doubt know he is a very dangerous, very unlawful, man,”

“So we’ve heard,” Sister Catherine says, nodding solemnly. “Is that what brings you in today?”

“Yes,” He says. “There was an altercation last night between him and I. I was able to shoot him so he is very hurt, but he got away before I could arrest him or finish the job.”

“Kinda stupid to come to a clinic when you’re a wanted outlaw, Pat,” One of the men behind Garrett grumbles. “We’re wasting our time here.”

You can’t help but agree, despite that being exactly what Billy did. But maybe that’s what makes it smart. You're hopeful that Garrett will listen to his friend, will assume that Billy couldn’t possibly be here and leave the clinic without investigating it. 

The small spark of hope dies as Garrett laughs without mirth. “The Kid’s not stupid. But we’re covering all our bases,” 

“Helloooooo,” A voice calls from another room opposite the patient still occasionally coughing up a lung. “Can someone please pay attention to the sick people around here? Hellooooooooooo?”

Sister Catherine smiles tightly. “Mr. Taylor,” She says by way of explanation. “A rather problematic patient here. He’s a good man, just impatient.”

Sister Ann’s voice can still be heard attempting to soothe her own charge, so Sister Catherine has no choice but to tend to Mr. Taylor. When she disappears from sight, you turn back to Garrett, trying your best to deter suspicion. 

“I can assure you, Sheriff, that we haven’t seen any sign of Mr. Bonney around here,” The lie leaves your lips far too easily for it to feel like the sin that it is.

Garrett nods, and you can tell he believes you, but puts his hands on his hips all the same, one hand pushing aside his coat to rest freely on the hilt of his gun. “Mind if we have a look around?”  

You force a smile on your face. “Not at all. As long as you don’t bother any of the patients. They need their rest,”

“Certainly,”

You lead him around the clinic allowing him and the deputies to search the rooms for their missing outlaw. When they get to Billy’s old room, the room they just vacated not minutes before the Sheriff arrived, you tell them that a patient was recently discharged and that you hadn’t had the time to turn over the room yet. 

“Why is there blood on ‘em?” One of the deputies asks, nodding to the blood stains still covering the stark white of the sheets. 

“A cooking accident,” You reply. “An incorrect knife hold can sometimes do that,”

Another lie. You feel this one a little more than the first. 

Eventually their search comes to the back room. You can’t keep them out, that would be too suspicious, so you allow them to walk through the half filled shelves. It's more than clear that there’s no place to hide anyone here other than the alcove and you're naively hoping they won’t even realize it’s there. 

It’s a large blanket hanging on the wall. Of course, they’re going to notice it. 

And, sure enough, one of the deputy’s eyes cut to the blanket. He heads towards it with a gruff “What’s behind here?” but you intercept him, rushing over to stand between him and the alcove.

The Sheriff and his deputies have their eyes on you now, each one closing in closer to you and the alcove, much too close for comfort.

“Sister,” Garrett says, voice stern with authority. “What’s behind the blanket?”

“It’s our place of prayer here,” You say, voice calm despite your nervousness. “Our altar.” You can’t mess up now. If you show any sign that you’re being untruthful, both you and Billy as well as your fellow Sisters out front will be on a one way trip to the courthouse. You’ll all die hanging from its top banister. “When healing doesn’t seem to be enough, it helps to have a place dedicated to God to call upon his everlasting power to perform miracles.”

Garrett nods. “Mind if we take a look?”

“Yes, actually. I do,” Your quick denial clearly catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising towards his hat. “Just as God bids us to modesty with our clothing, we must also show privacy and modesty in our places of worship. They’re sacred spaces. Surely you understand that, Sheriff,” 

The words feel like poison on your tongue. Using worship and prayer to cover up a lie is the catalyst that makes bile feel like it's rising in your throat. It’s not a lie, you have to remind yourself. It is a makeshift altar, you do use it as a place of worship and prayer. Just . . . not right at this moment. 

The reality of the situation is catching up with you, and you hide your slightly shaking hands by folding them together in front of you. You haven’t lied in years. You lied a lot as a child, a necessity of living with a father who’s anger could strike at a moment’s notice. You resented having to do it back then, forced to sin for the sake of trying to keep peace in the home. It’s much like the situation you find yourself in now, having to lie to try and protect another person. To protect yourself. 

When you found refuge at the convent all those years ago, you were told you would never have to be untruthful ever again.

“God is granting you freedom from your woes,” You were told, and you remember how light those words had made you feel. “Thank him for His good graces with your undying loyalty and strive to always be who He guides you to be.”

You hadn’t lied since, no matter how tough things seemed. Sickly patients lying on their deathbed, scared and begging you for any kind of reassurance that it wasn’t the end for them. You wouldn’t give them false hope. Instead, you would tell them to turn their worries to the Lord, clasping their hands in yours and praying with them.

“Your soul is strong, bright and ever-present,” You would tell them. Sometimes you would let them hold your rosary so they can find comfort in it. “The body is a temple, and we do our best in our life to care for it. You’ve done that. If it weakens now, it is because God is calling your soul back to Him.”

The guilt is clawing at your chest, but you force it back as best as you can as you meet Garrett’s eyes. “I ask that you don’t force us to desecrate that,” 

Garrett just stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face. One deputy just looks between you and Garrett, uncertain with how to proceed in the face of defying authority, and the other deputy that sneered at the thought of Billy even coming to the clinic scoffs at your words. 

“Listen, lady, the law–”

“John, enough,” Garrett interrupts, voice shockingly hard as his eyes cut to his deputy. “She’s a Sister and you’ll show her respect.”

You feel a quick spark of satisfaction at the way the deputy’s confident, power hungry facade dies under the Sheriff's ridicule. He mumbles a quick apology to which you accept with a nod despite how insincere it sounds. 

Garrett nods his head towards the door, silently gesturing for the other two to head towards the exit before he tips his hat at you directly, thanking you for your time and apologizing for any inconvenience their visit may have caused. 

You want to tell him it was no inconvenience at all, but you’ve already sinned enough today and you can’t bear the thought of intentionally adding to the tally without justified need. Instead you settle on curving your lips into a convincing smile, thanking the men in return for their brevity and understanding and wishing them a good rest of their day as you usher them out of the back room and towards the front entrance.

Every single muscle in your body relaxes once they are completely out of the clinic, relief washing over you as you whisper out a quick prayer of thanks to God for allowing everyone to get out of the overwhelmingly dangerous situation unscathed - at least for now. 

Sister Ann and Sister Catherine peek out of their respective rooms when they hear the front door swing shut, their wide eyes mimicking the relief you know is shown in your own. 

“I can’t believe they didn’t find him,” Sister Ann admits, and it pains your heart to see tears begin to well up in her eyes. “I thought this was truly the end for all of us.” 

You have her in your arms in an instant, cradling her small frame against your chest as she begins to cry in earnest. For as scary as it’s been for you so far, you can’t imagine what she’s been going through. Sister Ann and Sister Catherine have only known about Billy for less than no time at all. And yet, despite the short period of time between finding out about Billy, getting him into the alcove, and the entrance and departure of the Sheriff - you’re sure it probably felt like an eternity to her. 

“Hush now, Sister,” You whisper, running a soothing hand along her back. “You’re safe, I promise.”

Sister Catherine places one of her hands on Sister Ann’s back as well, but she’s looking at you when she speaks. “He still can’t stay here,”

You know that. You know. You got lucky that the Sheriff didn’t find Billy this time, but who's to say that he won’t come back when he’s unable to find his missing outlaw anywhere else? Covering all his bases, that’s what he said. He’ll come back again when he sees that his other ‘bases’ have turned up nothing but dead ends. 

Your older brother, Joe, has a cabin just outside of town. It’s a hidden place, specifically built for peace. No visitors. He lives alone, no wife or children to keep him company and he prefers it that way. 

“If I’m alone, I can’t turn into him,” 

You're positive he wouldn’t. Your brother is far from being anything like your father, but the task of trying to prove that to him seems to be out of your skillset. He tells you he’s happy with his life, that he’s chosen the path he feels he needs to be on just as you have. Who are you to pass judgment?

Joe likes the solitude, that much is certain. But he also has an adventurous spirit which guides him on lengthy trips from town to town, exploring all the world has to offer while never having to be tied to one place. He’s away now according to the last letter he sent you, planning to stay in Chihuahua, Mexico for a while and that he’s not sure yet when he’s going to be back. 

“It’s dangerous,” Sister Catherine pushes, taking your silence as reluctance.

“I know,” You say. “I know. I think . . . I think I have an idea.”

The cabin will be empty. Joe isn’t due back for the immediate future, and even if he does return earlier than you suspect he will, you and Billy won’t be in danger. Joe can be trusted. He’ll help you, if need be. You can’t imagine that the Sheriff would ever know about it. It’s secluded - far off of any of the usual paths. It’s safe there. The perfect place to hide the wanted outlaw for a while. He can rest there, heal up uninterrupted for a few weeks until he can safely move around on his own two feet again. 

Sister Catherine listens openly to the idea, but her face is pinched in displeasure. 

“We don’t have much of a choice,” She says, reluctantly. “It seems like the best place for him to disappear to until he’s healed.”

You can hear the underlying pause in her agreement loud and clear. “But?”

“The clinic cannot spare two of us. We would lose half of our staff and it is too much for one person to handle alone per shift,”

“I wouldn’t ask any of you to come with us,” You say. No, for as much as you believe God sent Billy into your life for a reason, this was your mission to bear. You’ve already put your fellow Sisters through enough.

“You want to go alone?” Sister Ann sniffles, raising her head up from your chest.

“You need to think about this,” Sister Catherine says, sternly. “You shouldn’t be alone with him. He is a child of God, yes. But he is also an outlaw and a man. Sometimes, one of those is worse than the other.”

They’re being protective. The more rational part of you is grateful for their concern, and you think that if the positions were switched and one of them were in your position instead, you would react the same way. But a part of you is bitter. They’ve heard the stories. You know exactly how cruel men can be and you know exactly what they’re capable of. It’s a risk you’re taking, but you feel called to take it anyway. Billy needs your help, and God would never put anything in your path that you can’t handle.

“The Lord will protect me,” Despite the truthfulness of your words, you can see how they do little to reassure them. Your next words are better. “The Lord will help me protect myself.”

Sister Ann looks at Sister Catherine, once again bringing her hands together to pick at the reddened skin at the edge of her nail. Sister Catherine sighs, and the back of her hand reaches up to tap her forehead as if feeling the temperature or wiping away sweat. 

“Alright,” She relents. “How do we get him to your brother’s cabin?”

“I don’t know,” You admit. “We need a wagon. Or a large wheelbarrow that we can put him in and attach it to a horse. I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, but I’m sure I can manage.”

“Where are we supposed to get that?” Sister Ann’s tone borders on exasperated. 

As if answering your unspoken prayer, the door to the clinic opens once more, this time revealing a bright faced Samuel Anderson, carrying a crate full of fresh supplies. And behind him, lit up by the sunlight like a bright blessing, is his wagon.

Sam Anderson is the son of local store owner, Edward Anderson, the clinic's top provider for basic supplies that are not strictly medical. While medicine shipments and more specialty items are donated from suppliers farther away, and frankly much less frequent than necessary, Mr. Anderson and Sam never fail to come through with plenty of food for you to make soups and nutritious meals for your patients. On occasion, you even have enough to give away to the families who are stacked together in a small two bedroom on the edge of town. With eight children total between two families, you're honestly not sure how they manage - but you do your best to help when you can. 

Seeing Sam walk through the front door is like a beacon of light from Heaven is shining down on him. He’s smiling already, the crate of food handled carefully between his hands as he lets out a cheery, “Good morning, Sisters”. But as soon as he sees your faces, more specifically when he sees the tear tracks still visible on Sister Ann’s cheeks, he’s placing down the crate and across the clinic’s entrance in a second. 

“What’s going on?” He asks. His hands automatically reach out towards Sister Ann’s face as if to cup it, but he stops himself. Instead he just looks at her worriedly, his concerned gaze leaving her face for only a moment to glance at you and Sister Catherine before they’re back on her, voice low and gentle. “What’s wrong?” 

It’s no secret that Sam harbors some romantic feelings towards Sister Ann. There are days when you feel sorry for him - a young man, good and kind and generous, who you have no doubt would make a fine husband to any lucky woman is in love with one of the four women in the entire county who are incapable of returning his affection. But it’s moments like this when it’s easy to see God’s presence in other people. Sam is as respectful and kind as they come. He accepts his feelings can never be reciprocated and in turn uses his undying love and loyalty to Sister Ann by helping you all at the clinic with anything he can. 

Somehow, he doesn’t expect anything in return, never stares at Sister Ann with an ounce of lust in his eyes, and it warms your heart to see the godly quality that’s usually so absent in men so prevalent in him. 

“Something’s happened,” Sister Ann tells him, her voice still wobbly with emotion. 

“What?”

“Sam,” You say, calling his attention back to you. “I know I have no place to ask this and I won’t fault you if you decline, but– I’m asking.”

“Tell me,” He insists, pulling his hat from his head and holding it to his chest, and God bless how the sincerity in his voice bleeds into his words. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” 

So you tell him everything. Sam listens with wide eyes, shooting panicked glances at Sister Catherine and Sister Ann when you tell him about the Sheriff’s visit, and he’s genuinely sorrowful when your voice gets caught in your throat as you tell him that you had to tell some lies to get him to leave without discovering Billy. He’s nodding already when you mention your brother’s cabin.

“I’ll take you there,” He offers before you can even ask the question. “My wagon is always at your disposal.”

“It’s dangerous. If we’re caught, you would hang with us,” 

Sam lets out a breath, unconsciously glancing over at Sister Ann again. “If the four most wonderful and religiously minded people in town hang for trying to do the right thing, then this isn’t a town or even a world that I want to live in anymore. Please let me take you. It would be my honor,”

A small smile graces your lips as you reach out and gently cup his cheek in thanks. For as many men pull and grind on your nerves with their endless greed and manipulation tactics, Sam is a breath of fresh air - a truly God-fearing man with a good heart.

He’s another person that you’re putting at risk, another life in danger because of the choice you’ve made. You try not to think yourself too selfish. Surely the fact that Billy has turned up in your life is God’s plan, and He does not put obstacles in your way that you cannot overcome. 

He tells you that he’ll come back tomorrow. He has a delivery that’s expected in a town over and if he’s going to make it there and back before nightfall, he needs to leave before the sun comes up. 

“I’ll stop here first,” He says. “We can load him into the back of the wagon while most people are sleeping and make the trip to your brother’s before I head on my way.”

“Thank you, Sam. Honestly,”

“My pleasure,” He nods his head at you, replacing his hat and tipping it kindly towards Sister Catherine and Sister Ann. “Until tomorrow, Sisters,”

The door swings shut behind him as he leaves and you let out a deep breath, hands smoothing over the dark veil covering your head just to feel a bit more grounded before you pick up the crate of food Sam brought. Billy needs to eat something. You're not quite sure how long it's been since his last meal, but even if he ate a minute before bursting through the clinic’s doors in the early morning, he would surely still be hungry and in need of sustenance by now. His body is weak and it needs nourishment to heal. 

Billy’s still sleeping when you peek around the privacy blanket. His head is turned to the side and buried in his pillow as much as he can get it, mouth hanging open as he breathes. Your hand itches to reach out and touch him again, to smooth against his forehead or cup his cheek, maybe place your fingers under his chin to help close his mouth in hopes of him breathing through his nose instead so his mouth doesn’t dry out. 

You’re not sure where this desire is coming from. You’re as affectionate with your patients as any nurse should be - kind and supportive, offering comfort when needed, but not overly so that it can be considered inappropriate. You’re all brothers and sisters, children of God - yes. But there are still social norms that must be considered. 

It feels different with Billy for some reason. 

“I’m going to get you to safety,” You whisper. You’re unsure about if he can hear you in his sleep or not, but you feel the need to tell him anyway. “I promise.”

You fall asleep at some point during the night, slumped against the wall next to the alcove’s entrance. 

You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember feeling tired, exhausted by the stress of the day’s events, and how your eyelids were threatening to close permanently more and more with each blink. The soup you had made still sat out in the small kitchen, and you had wanted to stay close to Billy so that whenever he awoke, you would be there ready to help feed him.

Instead, you wake to the sound of Sister Maria giggling to your left and a low, unfamiliar but still soft voice speaking in Spanish to her.

“Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín,” The voice lets out a small chuckle, the smile on his face evident in his tone despite you not being able to understand most of his words. “Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses.”

“Ese niño,” Sister Maria laughs. “Parece que era un buen amigo.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear how he loses the smile in his voice. “Sí, él era,”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you step over to where Sister Maria is kneeling in front of Billy’s cot. It’s only now you see the mostly finished bowl of soup in her hands. Billy’s sitting up slightly, back propped up against his pillows enough to allow him to sit up a bit straighter but not enough to pull too much on his stitches.

At seeing your movement, his eyes snap to your approaching frame, big blue orbs staring up at you and you can’t help the relief you feel at seeing them.

“You’re awake,” You breathe, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Thank the Lord,”

His lips twitch a bit in what looks like a suppressed smile. “Kinda sounds like I should be thankin' you,” He says, and you notice how prominent the shift in his accent is as he seamlessly switches from Spanish to English. “Sister Maria says that you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”

You shake your head, humbly. “Oh, no. Sister Maria and I work together as a team. I couldn’t have done it without her aid,”

“You show no fear,” Sister Maria insists. “Where I hesitate, you show mercy and strength. It is because of you that we are all alive now.”

“See?” Billy says with a blinding grin, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is while no longer at death’s door. “My angel,”

You feel your face heat up at the endearment. An angel. Surely the comparison shouldn’t fluster you like it does. You’ve thought of your fellow nuns as the embodiment of angels before, angelic beings put into human bodies by the grace of God to spread His word. You know that’s not exactly true, that you’re just using your belief of what God’s angels would be like and seeing those beings in your fellow Sisters just like Billy is doing with you now, but you’ve never once thought yourself to be comparable to such a holy being and the compliment makes you flush.

You run a hand across your face, feeling the warmth under your palm, and clear your throat. “Oh, well, thank you,”

Sister Maria stands, taking the nearly finished bowl of soup with her. “He has eaten plenty and I changed his covering as soon as he woke up. You will want to change it again when you get to the cabin.”

“That’s great. Thank you,”

“De nada. I’ll go check on the patients and keep an eye out for Sam,”

She nods to you and Billy before she turns to leave, a small smile pulling at her lips when Billy rasps out a soft, “Gracias, Hermana,”

When she’s gone, you take her place in front of Billy, kneeling at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better thanks to you,” He responds, wide eyes trained on yours, a smirk playing at his lips as he continues. “Don’t feel much like I’m dyin’ anymore,”

A small laugh escapes you at his morbid joke. “Well, I’d say that’s a very good thing then,”

“Sister Maria said the Sheriff came lookin’ for me,” 

“He did,” You confirm. “The Lord kept us all safe though and has given us an opportunity to get you to safety.”

Billy’s eyebrow raises skeptically. “Sounds like it was more your doin' than the Lord’s,”

You try to not let the slight against God rattle you. You had sensed this was coming anyway. William H. Bonney a.k.a Billy the Kid is an outlaw afterall, and no outlaw becomes an outlaw while still maintaining a positive relationship with the Heavenly Father. He’s gone through many hardships no doubt, and has more than likely deemed his bad luck in life as God’s personal vendetta against him.

“The Lord speaks through all of us, if only we have an open heart to hear him.” You tell him.  “Fear can make His words harder to hear, and I’m thankful that He was able to guide my mind and heart enough through the fear for us to get to safety.”

“Hm,” Billy hums, and you can tell how much he doesn’t believe your words. He doesn’t argue though. “And where exactly is this safe place you’re gonna take me?”

“My brother has a cabin just outside of town. It’s well secluded and unknown to most. We’ll be safe there until you’re healed enough to go on your own.”

Billy’s eyes drop to your hand still resting on his shoulder, thick dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks before his bright blue eyes are locked on yours again. “You gonna be takin’ care of me, Sister?”

“Of course, I will,” You reply. “We shall see you well again, Billy. I promise.”

His own arm crosses his chest so his hand can rest on your own, his eyes wide and so earnest as he whispers a quiet, “Thank you,”

It’s only about an hour longer before Sam arrives. It’s still early morning, the sun still a ways away from coming up behind the horizon line, and town is silent. Sam pulls his wagon up to the back door of the backroom before coming around the front to help push it open from the inside. It’s been so long since it’s been opened. The door was once used for the scheduled delivery of goods for easy access to the storage area, but as years went on and the county and surrounding counties became overrun with greed and poverty, the shipments became less frequent. Now, anything needed just comes through the front door. It’s never too much anyway, so what’s a trip or two to the backroom while carrying a crate. 

Sam slams his body against the door a few times, the wood groaning in protest under his weight before it finally swings open. Billy watches from his place on the cot, his eyes threatening to close but forcing himself to stay awake. You want to tell him to sleep, he needs his rest to help him heal and recover, but you’re too busy checking your bag to make sure you haven't forgotten anything before tossing it in the back of the wagon. You need to leave before the townspeople start to wake up. If someone sees you, if just one person witnesses you smuggling away a wanted outlaw, then all of this would have been for nothing. 

“Sister y/n,” Sam calls, squatting at the head of the cot. He’s got his arms wrapped around Billy’s torso. “Come grab his legs. We’ll do our best not to jostle his wound,”

You come to a kneel at Billy’s legs, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Do your best to relax, okay? If you tense, you might tear your stitches,”

Billy lets out a harsh breath through his nose, clearly nervous, but he nods anyway, brows furrowed in determination. 

Together you and Sam hoist him up. He gasps, groaning as his wound pulls but you can see how he’s trying to keep his stomach untensed. Getting him into the back of the wagon is not graceful, and you find yourself spewing endless apologies the whole time despite the relatively short journey. 

Sam’s laid out a bed of hay covered by two thick blankets throughout the entire bed of the wagon. Crates of food and other supplies take up half of the bed, but he’s managed to make it so Billy will have enough room to lay comfortably on his designated side. Billy sighs as he’s laid down on it, one of his legs bent at the knee and his palms pressing into the makeshift mattress as he cranes his neck up to look at you. You ball up a spare blanket, tucking it under his head before you push him back down with a gentle hand on his forehead.

“Rest now, Billy,” You tell him, crawling out backwards and helping Sam slide on the rectangular backing on the wagon to secure it shut. “We’ll be there when you wake up,”

His eyes stay locked on you as you circle the wagon towards the front. Sam helps you up onto the spring seat before jogging around the rear and hauling himself into the driver's seat. You smooth out your tunic, looking around the dark street for any suspicious or wandering eyes that might be peeking out from around buildings or through windows. You don’t see any, even as one of the horses whinnies when Sam urges them forward. The clinic is located towards the edge of town, so it only takes a few minutes of nervous eyes and your head on a swivel before the wagon is passing the final few buildings that mark the town’s end of population and you can relax.

You blow out a deep breath, meeting Sam’s equally relieved gaze as he snaps the reins and nudges the horses a little faster. You look over your shoulder to check on Billy and you’re expecting to see him sleeping, no doubt still exhausted from the trauma of taking a bullet. Instead, he’s looking at you, head twisting so he can see your elevated frame from his laid out position. His eyes seem to pierce into yours, so blue and intense as he watches you that it makes your breathing hitch in your throat. 

You’ve never seen eyes so beautiful before. Like endless pools of glistening water. Surely God must have taken much care when crafting them for him. 

You feel your skin prickle under his stare, body straightening in your seat. He doesn’t stop watching you.

“Sleep,” You tell him. “You’re safe, I promise.” And thankfully he listens, eyes trained on your face for just a moment more before closing his eyes. The tingling feeling in your body dissipates with the removed gaze. 

Your gaze turns around the front again, looking out to the vast stretch of land before you as you leave the civilization of town behind.

“Sam,” You start, looking for anything to pass the time and distract from whatever unusualness just happened between you and your charge. “How’s your mother?”

[ragingbookdragon]

Alejandro sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, tiredness pulling at his bones as he looked over the files and reports his men had compiled. “This isn’t enough,” he muttered, looking at Rudy who was just as tired.

“Ale, we don’t have the manpower to gather more intelligence. No one is opening their mouth on Valeria’s movements since she was released.”

“If she gets out of Las Almas, we’ll never find her.”

“What if she already is?”

He gazed at Rudy and let out another sigh as his phone started ringing. “Let’s pray she isn’t.” he raised the phone to his ear, a tired smile on his face as he answered, “Mi alma, how lovely it is to hear your voice. I’ve missed you today.”

A beat skipped over the line before a young woman’s voice followed. “Uh…Seño—Colonel Vargas?”

Immediately, the sleepiness was gone from his demeanor as he stood up and demanded, “Who is this? Where is my wife?”

“Oh, oh she’s right here, sir—Señora Vargas, say hi—HIIII—This is Nurse Lisa at Saint Maria’s, um, your wife is on some pretty heavy pain medication at the moment so she’s not fully here.”

“What happened?” Rudy was already rounding the table with his keys out.

“She had an unfortunate accident at work with a box cutter. Took a good chunk out of her hand, so we had to stitch her up. Legally, we can’t dismiss her given the amount of medication and local anesthesia we had to give her. Can you possibly come get her or send someone to release her?”

Alejandro let out a groan and waved Rudy to follow. “I’m on my way.”

“Good, we’ll just—wait! Señora Vargas you can’t eat that! Sir, I have to go!”

***

As he helped his wife into the backseat, he looked back at the nurse still giggling away at them. “How long until this wears off?”

“Oh, just an hour or so. Give her a hydro before she goes to sleep. She’ll be out like a baby.”

Before he could say anything, his wife poked her head from the side and pointed at Alejandro. “This is my baby,” she grinned, wide and toothy. “I caught this big fish all on my own. Didn’t even have to show my boobs either.”

“Mi alma!”

The nurse didn’t even seem to be fazed. “Really? Did you show your butt?”

She waggled her brows and pointer at him. “More like my pus—”

“OKAY GOODNIGHT!” Alejandro shouted and pushed her in the door, shutting it behind her. “Goodnight, Nurse Lisa, and thank you.”

She waved at them. “Come back in a week to check her stitches!”

***

“Rudy!” she shouted as she saw him in the driver’s seat, leaning up to hug him around the neck rather lopsidedly. “I’m so happy to see you.”

Rudy smiled and patted her arm. “As am I, Señora Vargas. How are you feeling?”

“Do not call me Señora Vargas. That’s what we call Mama Vargas.”

“What should I call you then?” he mused, and she winked.

“I dunno…what do you want to call me?”

“Hmm…” he pretended to think as he started driving around the bend. “How about… Señora Vargas?”

“Rudy!” she whined, laying her head on his shoulder. “‘s’not fair…you call Alejandro Ale sometimes…I want a nickname too.”

“How about bombón?”

She blinked. “Did you just call me baboon?”

He snickered. “No, bombón.”

“Bombón?”

“Mhm.”

“What does that mean?”

He looked at Alejandro who was grinning. “Oh, just sweet and soft.”

“I like it,” she smiled, kissing his cheek. “Se gracias, Rudy. Eres un amigo maravilloso.”

Rudy felt his cheeks warm, not at the kiss but at the affection in her voice, the real love. “De nada, bombón.”

She patted his head and turned her attention to Alejandro. “Mi amorrrrrrrr.”

“Mi almaaaaaaaa,” he cooed back and she tried to wiggle into the front seat and he held her upper body as she laid her head on his chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, kissing her head. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy…and hungry.” She looked up at him. “You’re so beautiful, Alejandro.”

He chuckled. “Not as beautiful as you, mi alma.”

“Shut up, I’m being serious.” She lifted her bandaged hand and with her two fingers still poking out, gently touched his face. “I’m so lucky to have you. You mean the world to me and more. I could lose it all, be broke, homeless, and nowhere to go, and I’d be okay if it meant I still had you with me.” She smiled at him, hazy and drunk on pain medication and love. “Whenever I think about us growing old, I’m not scared of going before or after you. I know that wherever we end up next, we’ll be together. Every life, me and you. How it’ll always be.”

Alejandro felt the corner of his eyes begin to sting and he gently brushed her face and nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Mi alma, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mi amor,” she whispered back and pressed her lips to his vest; for a moment she lay there, and Alejandro had figured she’d fallen asleep until she popped up and asked, “Will you make me a margarita when we get home?”

“Absolutamente no.”

“But Alejandrooooooooo!”

[karmaduck1]

Bandita, ustedes no saben lo mucho que espero y rezo porque Missa sea el que rescate a Phil. Tipo, estoy rogando y manifestando que este sea un mini evento de ellos, porque literal cualquiera podría rescatar a Phil. Cellbit? Nuestro detective experto? Por supuesto. Etoiles? Su Codebreaker duo que le ha partido la madre a los códigos en más de una ocasión? Pero claro que sí. Tubbo? Su hijo que también le juega al detective y por los dioses que nada para a ese vato? Dios, sí.

Pero Missa, we? Missa es ese vato que sí se entera que uno de sus amigos (o su esposo en este caso) está en peligro, va aunque sea con una cuchara a pelear contra monstruos; sin embargo, a Missa siempre lo andan salvando, precisamente porque no es un muy buen jugador, y Phil se ha dedicado bastante a protegerlo... Sería bellísimo que en esta ocasión Missa fuera el que salva a Phil.

Claro que por su disponibilidad de tiempo no creo que pase, pero hermano.

Hermano.

Yo voy a soñar y a ser feliz con mis delirios.

My dudes, you have no idea how much I'm hoping the one to save Phil is Missa. Like, I'm begging and manifesting that this becomes a mini event for them, because literally anyone could save Phil. Cellbit? Our pro-detective? Of course. Etoiles? His Codebreaker duo that has beaten the shit out of the codes more than once? Totally. Tubbo? His son who also plays the detective role well and nothing stops him? God, yes.

But Missa? Missa is that dude who if he hears one of his friends (husband, in this case) is in danger, is capable of fighting monsters with a spoon if that's all he has; however, Missa is the one who is in constant need of saving, precisely because he's not a good player, and Phil has dedicated himself to protect him a lot... It would be wonderful if this time, it was Missa the one to save Phil.

Now, I know that due to his times and schedules, it might not happen.

But bro.

Bro.

I will continue to dream and be happy with my delusions.

[babydoslilo]

He had a good heart after all

É.. mesmo que ele nunca tivesse pensado em Harry dessa forma, ele ainda não conseguia negar nada que a mais nova pedisse com os olhinhos brilhantes e reboladas sutis em seu pau. Ele tinha um bom coração afinal.

Essa oneshot contém: Incesto consanguíneo entre irmãos; Harry sendo uma mulher cis; Ltop; Harry virgemzinha implorando por pau e  Louis corrompendo ela; Não vai ter dinâmica BDSM.

°°°°°

Com três anos Louis recebeu uma das melhores notícias da sua vida ao que sua mamãe, com os olhos azuis brilhantes pelas lágrimas insistentes em cair, se abaixou em sua frente e contou que como presente por ser um menino tão obediente e bonzinho ele iria ganhar uma irmã. O menino ficou muito feliz ainda que sem entender de verdade o que aquilo significava, ou mesmo como uma mini pessoinha estava dentro da barriga da sua mãe, quer dizer, porquê colocariam um bebê lá dentro quando brincar com ele no quintal era claramente mais legal?

Assim que sua irmãzinha Harry nasceu, ele, por ser o “homem da casa”, prometeu que iria cuidar dela e não deixar ninguém machucá-la. Dito e feito, o apego entre os dois era a coisa mais fofa que Caroline, sua mãe, poderia ter pedido a quem quer que estivesse lá em cima. As crianças brincavam, estudavam e faziam tudo que pudessem juntas, Louis via Harry como sua bonequinha e, inclusive, passou a chamá-la assim.

Aos 12 o apelido mudou e a mais nova passou a ser chamada de princesa, o que combinava com seus cachinhos marrons sempre soltos, os olhos verdes e as bochechas coradas que conquistavam todos ao seu redor. De fato uma princesinha. A menina era tímida e fofa, mas a curiosidade que despontava em seu olhar não enganava ninguém e, felizmente, um certo rapaz de olhos azuis, cabelos castanhos e o sorriso arteiro não conseguia lhe negar nada.

– Lou, aqueles brigadeiros são tão bonitos, não é? 

Eles estavam em um casamento de uma amiga da mãe deles, sentadinhos e comportados como Caroline pediu antes de saírem de casa, mas os olhos verdes que passearam por todo o lugar parou na mesa de doces e brilhou como se tivesse achado o pote de ouro no fim do arco íris.. não que dezenas de doces fosse algo distante disso pra uma criança de nove anos de qualquer forma.

– Sim princesa – o mais velho sorriu de lado já sabendo a intenção da menina, por isso adiantou – são lindos, mas a gente não pode pegar ainda tá bom?

Parecia até um pecado ver aquele sorriso diminuir e a carinha murchar como uma flor no inverno.

– Ah… tudo bem então. – o brilho que surgiu nos olhos agora era de uma tristeza tão penosa que conseguia chantagear qualquer um com um bom coração. A pequena sabia muito bem disso.

É claro que depois desse incentivo Louis se esgueirou por trás dos arranjos de flores e conseguiu furtar dois docinhos para eles. Ele tinha um bom coração afinal.

Quando Harry finalmente fez quinze anos foi a vez do brilho triste se apoderar da íris verde mais uma vez, só que por outro motivo. Louis tinha entrado na faculdade e estava de mudança para outra cidade.

O orgulho que ela e sua mãe sentiram foi enorme mas não conseguiu apagar a dor que a distância deixaria, afinal seu irmão, melhor amigo e confidente não estaria mais ali para quando Harry quisesse assistir um novo filme de terror e ficasse com medo de dormir sozinha, não estaria para ajudá-la a estudar pras provas e reclamar por ela se distrair fácil de mais e não estaria para quando ela sofresse com a maldade e pressão das colegas de classe, que não aceitavam seu jeito calmo e de quem não tinha pressa para vivenciar as aventuras adolescentes.

E era principalmente nesses momentos em que se sentia solitária e atrasada com relação às demais garotas da sua idade que ela sentia falta do colo quentinho e cafuné na cabeça enquanto palavras sábias saíam de um sorriso calmo:

–  Não precisa ter pressa princesa, tudo acontece no tempo certo e com a pessoa certa. Quer saber? Elas é que vão se arrepender depois quando só tiverem colecionado frustrações e arrependimentos. – ele tirou a mão que afagava seus achos, a usou pra levantar seu queixo e encarando seus olhos ele continuou – Não se preocupa com isso agora tá? Não tem nada errado com você e nem tem do que se envergonhar, eu garanto.

A questão é que ela ainda era aquela menina tímida e que não sentia vontade de sair beijando os meninos na escola ou quando ia em festas, sentia menos vontade ainda de explorar sua vida sexual quando ainda não tinha alguém confiável e que lhe deixasse confortável o suficiente pra isso. Por favor, a última vez que fez algo assim sem ter realmente vontade acabou com o lábio inchado e roxo da mordida de um menino que nem lembra o nome e que só beijou porque sua melhor amiga insistiu muito. Ela não quer passar por isso de novo ou até pior, por isso escolheu acreditar nas sábias palavras do irmão.

No entanto, a correria da vida adulta para Louis, tentando conciliar as obrigações do seu curso e não morrer de fome ou deixar o apartamento que morava sozinho virar um lixão, e o receio de Harry em mandar mensagem e acabar atrapalhando o irmão acabou afastando eles. Claro, eles não deixaram de fazer ligação pelo menos duas vezes por mês e nem deixaram de atualizar um ao outro sobre as novidades da escola da garota ou da rua em que eles moravam, mas era fácil notar a intimidade que eles tinham se esvaindo aos poucos. 

Com sorte isso durou pouco menos de três anos, pois com a aprovação de Harry na faculdade aos 18 anos de idade e sendo ela na mesma cidade em que o Louis estava, não tinha necessidade de alugar outro apartamento quando eles poderiam facilmente serem colegas de quarto e restabelecer toda a conexão perdida. A possibilidade de voltarem a viver sob o mesmo teto e compartilhar novamente uma rotina baseada em confidências e carinho pareceu devolver a vida aos olhos verdes e levar conforto e sensação de lar aos olhos azuis.

É assim que hoje a garota se encontra só de pijama rosa com mini corações vermelhos no sofá do pequeno apartamento que eles dividiam enquanto confere se está completa a lista de livros que vai precisar dali a alguns dias quando começar suas aulas. Finalmente suspira fundo soltando todo o ar dos pulmões quando nota que, diferente dos dias anteriores que foram de puro cansaço ao desfazer malas e caixas, ir no campus ajustar as matrículas e conhecer o prédio que teria aula, além de matar a saudade do irmão com o que restava de suas noites assistindo filmes abraçadinhos, agora ela poderia de fato relaxar e só esperar a vida adulta acontecer. 

– Então… os meninos estão marcando um barzinho pra hoje, mas eu não queria te deixar sozinha logo na primeira semana – Louis sai do quarto digitando algo no celular enquanto fala com ela – Anima ir com a gente? Por favorzinho? – ele levanta o rosto em sua direção e faz um biquinho. Ele sabe que ninguém em sã consciência seria capaz de lhe negar algo quando faz isso.

– Poxa Lou, eu só consegui sentar pra descansar agora. Prometo que na próxima eu vou tá?

– Olha, a gente faz assim então: nós vamos, ficamos em lugar mais calminho e se você ainda quiser vir embora eu mesmo te trago, ok? – ele nota o revirar de olhos da irmã e, antes que ela pense em negar, continua – Eu sempre falei tanto da minha princesinha pra eles e só queria que te conhecessem para verem como eu sou o homem mais sortudo por morar com a pessoa mais fofa do mundo… Mas tudo bem, a gente deixa pra próxima então. – ele vira as costas cabisbaixo, mas o sorriso de lado que escapa não engana ninguém.

Admitindo a derrota e em choque com a chantagem explícita que seu irmão estava fazendo, a menina corre e pula nas costas dele, ao mesmo tempo que bagunça seu cabelo e tenta fazer cócegas pelo pescoço e barriga do maior, ela se rende.

– Ok seu merdinha, eu vou! Mas que fique claro que estou indo contra minha vontade e que você vai ter que me mimar por uma semana pra compensar. – arrebitou o nariz e saiu desfilando para o quarto a fim de se arrumar. Louis sorriu vitorioso, ele sabia que assim como ele não resistia aos pedidos da mais nova, principalmente se tivesse um biquinho e olhos brilhantes envolvidos, Harry também não seria capaz de negar nada a ele. 

Como prometido eles realmente foram em uma espécie de pub mais calmo com arquitetura de madeira, algumas mesas dispostas pela calçada e lá dentro, próximo ao balcão onde serviam as bebidas, tinha uma banda local apresentando algo como voz e violão. O clima era bem intimista e relaxante, Harry não se arrependeu ao todo por ter se rendido a uma certa carinha bonita e olhos azuis. Bem, isso até um conhecido de Louis e que estava sentado na mesa ao lado tentar tirá-la pra dançar, o que ela prontamente aceitou afinal não lhe custava nada, mas o problema mesmo foi quando o homem, Dean era o nome dele, tentou beijá-la. 

Veja bem, ele não era feio nem nada mas a garota não estava interessada em ficar com ele, ou com qualquer outro na verdade, e quando ele insistiu e quis motivos para a recusa, ela de fato se sentiu incomodada. Por isso, assim que voltou a sentar na mesa em que Louis estava com os amigos e passou os olhos ao redor do local notou alguns casais dançando juntinhos, um deles estava aos amassos em um canto mais afastado debaixo de uma árvore que bloqueava parcialmente a iluminação, alguns tantos deixavam explícitos o mood da noite ao que seus olhares eram semelhantes a uma águia a procura de alimento. 

Vendo como era comum pras pessoas da sua faixa etária se relacionar momentaneamente com pessoas desconhecidas, Harry se sentiu cada vez mais estranha e deslocada, coisa que não passou despercebida por uma pessoa que jurou há muito tempo não deixar ninguém machucar aquela pequena boneca e, ainda que agora ela não fosse mais tão pequena assim e pudesse se defender sozinha, a promessa continua.

– Ok. Em quem eu vou precisar bater hoje? – Louis tenta fazer graça para desfazer o rosto abatido, mas o fundo de uma preocupação se faz presente. 

– Todo mundo sabe que você não bate nem em um ursinho de pelúcia Lou – ela fala com um risinho acompanhado por uma covinha graciosa do lado esquerdo da bochecha.

– Certo.. mas eu claramente apanharia pra proteger você – admite também sorrindo, mas logo toma uma postura mais séria – é sério Hazz, você sabe que pode me contar tudo né? Foi o Dean? O que ele fez? Eu juro que ele parecia um cara legal, Droga! Eu não deveria ter deixado voc – 

– Meu deus, respira! – ela o interrompe rindo. É incrível como em um par de segundos ela consegue relaxar e se sentir segura com Louis. Ela sentiu muita falta disso. – Não aconteceu nada de mais ok? Prometo que quando a gente chegar em casa eu explico tudo, mas não se preocupa – e quase num sussurro, ela finaliza – de qualquer forma parece que o problema está em mim. 

Se Louis escutou o final ele não demonstrou, mas assentiu em afirmação com a cabeça e um sorriso calmo na face e não saiu de perto da garota pelo resto da noite. Porém, quando finalmente chegam em casa, quase 2h da manhã, eles estão exaustos e vão cada um para seu quarto. Qualquer conversa teria que ficar para o próximo dia, por sorte seria um domingo regado a muita preguiça e expectativa para a semana que se inicia. 

°°°°°

Ao acordar no dia seguinte com os músculos das costas e pernas mais relaxados por dormir até meio dia, Harry nota o clima abafado na cidade e resolve ter um dia de beleza como há algum tempo sentia falta. Ela hidratou os belos cachos castanhos, que a essa altura batia pouco abaixo dos ombros, fez as unhas, usou óleo corporal por todo o corpo e passou pelo menos quarenta minutos no banho enquanto aproveitava a própria companhia e um apartamento inteiro para ela, já que Louis tinha saído para fazer alguma coisa que ela não prestou muita atenção e disse que voltaria mais tarde para eles terem a bendita conversa sobre o que aconteceu no dia anterior. Ela definitivamente não estava ansiosa para expor todas as suas inseguranças e pedir ajuda ao irmão mais velho, não mesmo. 

O lado positivo de estar sozinha e ter tempo para pensar é que ela refletiu sobre tudo que iria contar ao maior e como ela pediria ajuda, se é que ela teria coragem de pedir. Cogitou também todas as possibilidades de respostas que poderia receber, todas as reações e o mais complexo, todas as consequências. 

Por isso que após o longo banho ela vestiu apenas o pijama que era composto por um shortinho que mal chegava na poupa da bundinha branca e uma camisa de alça com o tecido bem molinho, ambos eram brancos com bolinha rosa, e para se sentir mais confortável, resolveu não usar nenhuma peça íntima por baixo. Assim, enquanto estava deitadinha, ela rolava os canais de TV e esperava o mais velho voltar para casa com seu discurso decorado na ponta da língua e um frio na barriga que fazia qualquer montanha russa ficar com inveja, mas, qual é, era apenas seu irmão. Ele faria tudo pra ajudar ela, certo? Nada ficaria estranho.

– Princesa? ta me ouvindo? – enquanto ela se perdia em pensamentos Louis entrou e sentou ao seu lado pousando uma mão em sua coxa descoberta na tentativa de ganhar a atenção – Eu só vou tomar um banho e já venho te fazer companhia ok? Você tá tristinha desde ontem e eu não tô gostando nada de te ver assim.

– Aceito a companhia se você trouxer aquele sorvete que está na geladeira quando vier – ela sorri arteira enquanto ele se levanta indo em direção ao banheiro e tirando as peças de roupa, mas franziu o cenho ao notar que estava encarando o caminho por onde Louis passou e não sabe porquê sua atenção fixou nas costas bronzeadas já que nunca tinha notado nada tão interessante antes.

Quando o maior volta com o pote de sorvete nas mãos, sem camisa e com uma bermuda de tecido molinho cor creme Harry tem certeza que algo mudou em sua mente para fazer com que as pequenas gotas que escorriam pelo pescoço até o peitoral magrinho virassem o alvo da sua atenção. Louis, notando que a mais nova estava dispersa novamente, resolve que o toque manteria ela no mundo real e por isso sentou ao seu lado e colocou as pernas branquinhas por cima das dele enquanto segura as mãos delicadas e com as unhas recém feitas.

– Pode falar meu bem, o que houve? No que você tanto pensa? – questiona de forma suave.

– Eu não sei se eu deveria falar sabe.. pode ser que seja só um problema meu e não tenha solução, não quero te preocupar com besteira Lou – a manha aparente em sua forma de falar não deixa opção para os olhos azuis que não seja resolver o possível problema.

– Lembra que você pode conversar sobre qualquer coisa comigo? Pode confiar em mim Hazz e a gente vai tentar resolver juntos – garante de forma amorosa. 

– Certo, eu vou falar mas você não pode rir de mim ou achar besteira! –  condiciona e ele imediatamente assente com a cabeça – É que.. você lembra como eu era tímida na escola e me disse que não tinha que ter pressa para fazer o que todas as outras garotas estavam fazendo e não tinha nada errado com isso? – ele assente novamente – Então.. eu meio que estava esperando aparecer alguém que eu tivesse vontade de.. você sabe.. mas até agora não apareceu e- eu juro que eu não ligava pra isso, mas ontem quando a gente saiu e eu vi todo mundo nesse clima de pegação eu percebi que – ela se interrompe fungando um pouco.

– O que você percebeu princesa? – falou quase em um suspiro para não afetar ainda mais a menina. 

– Q-que talvez eu nunca conheça alguém que eu confie 100% para fazer essas coisas ou que me desperte algum interesse. Eu não sou burra, ta? Não é como se eu acreditasse em príncipe encantado, mas eu não quero que seja com qualquer um e.. e.. - ela estava tão ofegante e desesperada que começou a se embolar enquanto falava. Por isso toma uma respiração bem funda e aperta mais forte a mão de Louis – Eu só não quero ficar para trás, entende? 

Vendo que a irmã estava abalada e numa tentativa de confortá-la, já sabendo que a garota tinha seus discursos decorados e, provavelmente, não ajudariam nesse momento, Louis a puxa pelas mãos até que ela esteja sentada em seu colo com uma perna em cada lado do quadril. O abraço que ela recebeu foi tão forte e apertado que tirou um pouco sua respiração e foco, mas aproveitando que seu rosto estava no pescoço do outro e ele não podia lhe ver, a menina tomou aqueles famosos três segundos de coragem e lançou baixinho ao pé do ouvido: 

– Você pode me ajudar Lou?

– Como assim Hazz? Você quer que eu te apresente alguém ou algo assim? Porque eu não sei se me sinto confortá– ele se afastou tentando encará-la mas não teve sucesso ao que sentiu ser abraçado com mais força, ao ponto de que todos os seus membros se tocavam em algum ponto.

– Não.. não é isso – cada vez mais envergonhada, interrompeu – Eu sempre quis uma pessoa que eu confiasse e tivesse certeza que cuidaria bem de mim, sabe… E você é a pessoa que mais confio no mundo todinho Lou, você faria isso? Cuidaria de mim?

Sem reação e sem ter certeza do que aquilo significava, o garoto ficou sem palavras e aproveitando desse momento para esclarecer o que queria, Harry se mexeu de forma sutil no colo do rapaz. Ele ficou tenso imediatamente e com todas as células do corpo gritando em alerta.

Era isso mesmo que sua princesinha, a menina mais doce e tímida que ele conhece, deu a entender?

– Lou… por favor? Eu preciso de você.. E- eu só confio em você – sem dar chances para o mais velho pensar em muitas alternativas, ela rebola mais uma vez, sentindo agora a vergonha dar espaço para a adrenalina quando o tecido fino da bermuda do rapaz revela que ele estava confortavelmente sem nada por baixo. Seria estranho notar esse fato sobre o próprio irmão se ela já não estivesse tão envolvida que sentia os próprios biquinhos dos seios ficando duros e sensíveis. Louis também percebeu.

– Espera só um,  hm, um pouco – ofegante e sem conseguir focar em nada além da menina montada em seu colo, além das pontinhas duras que pareciam querer furar seu próprio peito ao que ela se esfregava mais e mais procurando contato – bebê? – conseguiu afastá-la um pouco – me fala o que exatamente você quer que eu faça? Eu vou tentar ajudar, ok? Eu vou sempre te ajudar.

– Você pode, hm, é.. – completamente corada das bochechas até o pescoço, tomou uma respiração profunda – você pode, por favor, me mostrar como funciona.. você sabe.. – o encarou com os olhos brilhando em expectativa.

– Eu ainda não entendi amor – tendo a confirmação que precisava e sentindo que a umidade vinda do shortinho da menina melava seu próprio pau, ele sorriu ladino – você pode fazer melhor que isso, não pode? 

– Você pode – tomou uma respiração profunda e o encarou por baixo dos cílios – me foder? – Louis arqueou uma sobrancelha com o tom de voz sussurrado e quase inaudível da garota – p- por favor? 

Ainda sem acreditar que sua irmãzinha estava lhe pedindo algo que ele nunca cogitou, Louis tomou uns segundos para apreciar e realmente notar como aquela criança que ele conhecia tinha virado uma mulher linda, cada dia mais alta, com a pele pálida macia, os peitos cheinhos que pareciam querer pular da peça fina que vestia, a bunda pequena redondinha que não conseguia parar de se mexer e, principalmente, a bucetinha molhada que agora ele conseguia sentir perfeitamente através dos shorts que ambos vestiam e que, como se tivessem sido feitos para isso, encaixou seu pau cada vez mais duro e molhado entre as dobrinhas.

É.. mesmo que ele nunca tivesse pensado em Harry dessa forma, ele ainda não conseguia negar nada que a mais nova pedisse com os olhinhos brilhantes e reboladas sutis em seu pau. Ele tinha um bom coração afinal. 

Por isso levantou com a menina em seu colo e a levou para seu quarto. Se iria fazer isso, tinha que ser direito. Assim que deitou ela na cama e lhe deu um beijo profundo, sentiu como se precisassem disso para sobreviver e após esse primeiro contato para confirmar o rumo que as coisas seguiriam, os beijos se tomaram um ritmo cada vez mais rápido, mais molhado, ofegante e parecia não ser o suficiente.

Louis aproveitou da pausa entre os beijos para passar a mão em todo o corpo estirado abaixo dele, era até poético como Harry parecia acabada com os lábios vermelhos inchados e molhados, a blusinha que usaria pra dormir já estava embolada acima do umbigo e os cabelos bagunçados previam como suas vidas ficariam após essa noite. Uma obra de arte divinamente obscena, ele diria. 

O coração quase falhou e o pau com certeza pulsou quando a menina ficou completamente nua e exposta para si. Os peitos grandinhos com os mamilos amarronzados balançavam e esbarravam em seu rosto a cada beijo depositado sobre o tronco da menina enquanto descia cada vez mais em direção a grutinha molhada que o dava água na boca só de pensar em ser o primeiro a tocar ali, o primeiro a sentir a textura e o gosto. 

– L-lou , hm.. tá muito quente aqui em baixo na minha florzinha – ela se mexe inconscientemente enquanto agarra os lençóis da cama na tentativa de manter sua sanidade mental com todas aquelas novas sensações tão boas – f-az alguma coisa, por favor – choramingou e se sentiu mais molhada do que pensou ser possível.

– Calma princesa – falou rouco, beijando agora a parte interna das coxas branquinhas. Ele conseguia ver a bocetinha gordinha e com pelinhos ralos toda lambuzada e estava se segurando para não enfiar o rosto e se perder naquele paraíso totalmente pecaminoso – você precisa ficar quietinha pra eu te ajudar tá bom? Senão a gente vai ter que parar por aqu–

– Não! Não Lou, por favor eu - hm- eu prometo que vou ficar quietinha. – falou desesperada e com os olhos brilhantes enquanto tentava realmente manter suas pernas paradas, coisa que ambos sabiam não ser possível já que a menina estava cada vez mais barulhenta e agitada com tamanho prazer apenas em receber beijinhos perto da área mais sensível que implorava pela atenção do mais velho.

Não querendo mais maltratar a mais nova e tendo em vista que sua ereção estava dolorida e completamente ansiosa para se aquecer em lugar mais aconchegante do que a bermuda que ele ainda vestia, Louis deixou acumular saliva na ponta da língua e a passou de baixo para cima por toda a grutinha da garota.

– Oh porra! Louis! – o gemido saiu quase como um grito dos lábios cheinhos e ela estremeceu com a sensação que mal conheceu e já não podia se imaginar sem – f-faz de novo, por favor.. por favor – a garota implorava entre sussurros parecendo estar em transe.

Com a visão da garota se perdendo nas sensações que só ele proporciona, o maior rosnou e caiu de boca, deixando tudo o mais molhado possível e fazendo uma bagunça por todo o seu rosto. Não que ele se importasse com isso no momento. O garoto chupou tudo o que podia, enfiou a pontinha da língua na entrada molhadinha para ver qual seria a reação da menina e não deu tanto foco ao clitoris no intuito de fazer com que a cacheada tivesse uma bela surpresa depois.

Ao ver que a menina era só gemidos e estava mais que envolvida pelo momento, já sem muita paciência para esperar, Louis parou de chupá-la e antes que ela tomasse fôlego para protestar, ele já estava enfiando a língua em sua boca com o pretexto de dividir todo o melzinho com a dona dele. Harry ficou tão obcecada tentando definir o gosto que tinha enquanto aproveitava do que podia sentir pela boca do outro,  que não percebeu que o menor tinha conseguido, finalmente, tirar a bermuda e estava totalmente pelado em cima dela.

Quando sentiu o membro pesado, gordo e quente tocar a pele da sua barriga ela ofegou alto e não resistiu em olhar para baixo. A cabecinha vermelha por estar segurando o tesão por tanto tempo deixou escapar uma gota transparente de pré gozo e a menina sentiu a boca aguar com o interesse em descobrir se o gosto seria suave como seu melzinho ou mais salgado e quem sabe até amargo. Mas antes de ter a oportunidade de fazer qualquer coisa, estremeceu quando o mais velho segurou a própria base e arrastou bem devagar a ereção pelo clitoris inchado e vermelhinho.

– Lou!! Eu preciso.. mais.. eu preciso de mais – uma lágrima solitária escapou dos olhos verdes enquanto implorava. 

– Oh porra, hm, ok.. – respirou fundo tentando não gozar só de ouvir a irmãzinha implorando para ser fodida – você precisa relaxar, princesa, eu não quero te machucar.

– Vai doer muito? – arregalou os olhos e fez um biquinho manhoso – não, por favor, eu não quero sentir dor Lou.

– Eu vou colocar só a cabecinha bem devagar tá? – falou baixinho já direcionando o pau na entrada da menina que se apertava em nervosismo.

– T- ah! – se engasgou quando sentiu uma pressão no seu centro como se tivesse sendo rasgada e olhou em pânico pro irmão que parecia estar se segurando muito para não meter tudo de vez e acabar com essa tortura.

– Shh.. boneca, já vai passar tá? – assegurou dando beijinhos por todo o rosto corado.

Quando sentiu a resistência diminuir e a respiração da garota ficar mais pesada, ele passou a se mover tentando colocar, aos poucos e com calma, mais da sua extensão para dentro da entrada apertada e molhadinha. Louis ficou tão vidrado na sensação quente e sufocante no seu pau que só percebeu estar socando todo ele quando ouviu Harry gritar com a voz falha e rouca.

Por sorte a mais nova parecia reconhecer o prazer além da dor de ser invadida pela primeira vez e já amava se sentir preenchida totalmente pelo pau grosso e quente do irmão.

– Vem aqui boneca, quero te mostrar uma coisa – e como se ela fosse mesmo uma bonequinha fácil de manusear, Louis deitou na cama e colocou a menina agora sentada em seu colo. Porém, apesar de ter saído de dentro dela há poucos segundos, não deixaram de gemer novamente com o aperto ao que Harry desceu devagar pelo membro.

Ele a ajeitou em cima do seu quadril de forma que quando ela se movesse o clitoris iria entrar em atrito com a parte de cima da virilha do mais velho. De fato, Harry sentiu seu interior querer explodir e paralisar ao mesmo tempo quando testou rebolar de trás para frente. A sensação de roçar aquele pontinho mágico era quase indescritível e como a pequena insaciável que descobriu ser, não demorou para achar seu próprio ritmo e levar o garoto abaixo de si à loucura.

Louis chegou a conclusão que se ia pro inferno por estar desvirtuando a sua princesinha, então aquela vista que tinha agora definitivamente valia a pena. Deitado, conseguia ver os peitos pulando pesados enquanto intercalava em chupar um de cada vez e se contentava com as marquinhas que apareciam ali, bem como o rosto antes angelical e fofo, mas que agora exalava luxúria jogando a cabeça para trás com a boca aberta sem conseguir formular o gemido enquanto usa o corpo sob o seu para buscar o próprio prazer.

Louis definitivamente não ficaria chateado se Harry simplesmente montasse nele e o usasse como um brinquedinho para gozar sempre que quisesse. 

– E-eu acho que – respirava ofegante e tentava formular frases sem ser interrompida pelos gemidos manhosos, sem muito sucesso – Louis! Eu tô sentindo uma c-cois , ah, e-eu acho que-

O mais velho já sabendo que o orgasmo dela se aproximava e por não estar em uma situação diferente, usou uma das mãos para agarrar o quadril e com a outra espalmou e apertou a bunda ja vermelha pelo atrito causado cada vez que as bolas pesadas e cheias batiam ali, e ajudou a menina a rebolar cada vez mais rápido. Antes que pudesse ao menos tentar terminar a frase, Harry sentiu sua florzinha esquentar e um choque se espalhar por todo seu corpo.

– Louis! – talvez os novos vizinhos da garota não gostem tanto assim da sua mudança depois de ouvi-la gemer estridente.

Dos dedos dos pés curvados até os cabelos que foram puxados enquanto ela tremia em espasmos em cima de Louis, tal visão foi o gatilho para o maior sentir seu orgasmo mais forte enquanto abraçava o tronco da garota e enfiava mais da sua extensão na bocetinha como se pudessem se fundir em um só corpo. 

Após o que podia ter sido horas ou só alguns minutos ao passo que os dois desciam do ápice sentindo os efeitos do relaxamento que só um orgasmo pode proporcionar, Harry, ainda preenchida pela ereção que se recusava a amolecer e deixar todo o leitinho vazar pelas coxas, levanta o tronco para encarar o homem que fez toda a espera valer a pena.

– Obrigada Lou – como num passe de mágica, a face tímida está de volta e ela lhe dá um selinho como agradecimento – Eu não quero que você saia de mim nunca mais.. promete? – e lá estavam os olhos pidões e brilhantes que impedia Louis de negar.

Ele tinha um bom coração afinal. 

[lovelyvogrincic]

Just kiss me

Felipe x fem! Reader

Warnings: Jealousy & fluff

Note: first time writing for pipe and idk why, I should’ve written for him before cause he is the cutest fifa ever 😭

-And cut!- the director screams and you smile looking at your co- star- And that’s a wrap on that scene, take 20 people.

You sigh at the thought of finally getting off the heels you’ve been wearing, it’s not that you didn’t enjoy wearing heels but after a few scenes, they become more of a torture, so you just start to walk towards the trailer until your co star, stops you.

-Hey, (yn)!- Smiling you turn back to see him and he is smiling - Good work today- he says- I’m glad you’re my co star.

You can’t help but smile at his comment, it’s the first big and important role you get in Hollywood, so receiving that kind of feedback, really makes you smile and trust in your talent a little more.

-Thanks Mark, it means so much coming from you.- A smile is forming on him as he gets closer.

-It’s the truth- he says lifting his shoulders- you are a wonderful actress.

The chat continues for a while until your assistant comes practically running to see you.

-Hey (yn), I need to tell you something- she says while smiling so hard.

-That’s my cue- Mark says and leaves you with Susanne, your assistant, who is excited to tell her boss, whatever she has to.

-Yes Sussy? What’s the big deal?- you ask her as you scan her body language- you seem really excited.

-Oh- she calms down a bit- You received something, it’s in your trailer. -She says once again getting really hyped up.

-Ok, and whats that?- Now you are really curious, what they could’ve sent you that Susanne couldn’t carry with her.- Is it big or why you don’t have it with you?

-Yes it’s big and in Spanish- she answers smiling as hard as before, she really wants to spoil what you had received but she can’t.- Come on, you’ve got to see it!

She grabs your hand and both sprint as quickly as the heels allows you, while wondering what could be, what is big and in Spanish?

A plushie that talks?, your dog?, you have really no clue what could be, but a lot of ideas, and as that you got in into the trailer.

-It is my dog?- you ask opening the door and entering, but Susanne doesn’t enters.

-Eh, me han dicho muchos insultos pero, perro pasa el límite- You hear a familiar voice, and before you could even see him, you know exactly who is.

-¡Pipe!- Both run to hug each other, and in the excitement, he lifts and spins you-¡Eh, no hagas eso!

He puts you down quickly, scans you and smiles, before hugging you more.

-Pero que hermosa que te ves- And you just give him a little smack on his shoulder- ¿Por qué me pegás?

You shake your head- ¿Cuando llegaste?, ¿por qué no me avistaste nada?

-Era una sorpresa, por eso no dije nada, y llegué hace unas horas.- you just can’t believe he is here, with you, and hug him quickly one more time.

pipegonzalezotano

liked by franromerofran and 167,000 others.

Reunidos con la guapa de @yn_yln ❤️

View all 560 comments.

yn_yln: Que bonita sorpresa me diste, tqm 🫶🏻🩷

blaspolidorii: Que vivan los novios!

yn_yln: @blaspolidorii cállate 🙄

franromerofran: Que viva el amor! ❤️

-Sos el mejor amigo del mundo, la falta que me hacías.- You tell him and he smiles a little, but in his interior he feels sad that you couldn’t see him the way he does, how could you not notice that he likes you since forever, and after all the flirting everything was still the same.- ¿Y, que querés hacer?

He just smiles still seeing you smiling and excited.

-Hay tanto que ver, muchos restaurantes que probar y, ¿trajiste tu cámara?- he nods- bueno, obvio, también hay muchos museos para pasear y que veas, como para tomar fotos, aunque quizás quieras irte a dormir, ¿no?

Felipe laughs and shakes his head- Mira, me encanta que tengas tantas ideas, pero yo tengo un plan, porque- he says and holds your hands- necesito platicar con vos, hay algo muy importante que tengo que decirte.

You smile at the thought of spending time with him, your best friend, but a little worried of what he could tell you, probably that he has a girlfriend or he was leaving for a movie, still, you wanted to be with him.

-Dale, haremos lo que vos quieras, pero después me toca a mí escoger.- he nods and hugs you again.

-Te extrañé mucho (yn).

-Y yo a vos, en verdad.- the hug continues until someone knocks at the trailer door and you go to open it. -Oh, Mark!

-Hey!- he greets you- so, Greta said we can go have lunch and return until 5-6 pm, so, would you like to have lunch with me? Or are you busy?

-She is busy, with me.- Another men voice says as he gets from behind you- Sorry.

-Oh, I didn’t knew you had a visitor, is he your brother?- Mark asks teasing Felipe.

-No, no, he is Felipe, my best friend, I have talked about him, right?- your co star nods.

-Yeah, your best friend, I heard everything about you.- he smiles again, but never taking the look off Felipe.

-On the other hand, I’ve never heard about you- Pipe says and puts one of his hand around your waist.

-¡Pipe, no seas grosero!- you scold him and turn to see him, and getting out of his grip, making Felipe to just lift his hands innocently.

-¿Que? Pero él empezó, y es la verdad, yo no he escuchado nada sobre él.- you just roll your eyes and turn to see Mark.

-Sorry about that, but, I had plans with him first, maybe next time?- he nods and looks again at your friend.

-Well, see you later, we have our kiss scene this night, so, don’t eat onion. -Mark says and you hear Felipe sigh.

-That wouldn’t bother me, anyway she is a good kisser.- Felipe says before getting a punch in his stomach, but that doesn’t erase the smile on his face.- Bye.

Mark just leaves a little mad, and you turn madly to Felipe, closing the door, you still couldn’t believing what he just said.

-¿Que te pasá, por que decís eso?- you push him angrily but he still has a stupid smile in his face- ¡En serio Felipe!

He laughs- Es la verdad, ¿o no?- you feel a lot of butterflies on your stomach as he gets closer to you, the proximity makes your lips touch a bit, making you walk away some centimeters.

-No lo sé, nunca me he besado a mi misma- you say laughing but Felipe isn’t laughing. -¿Por qué dijiste eso, en serio?

-Eh porque…si, para callarlo, se cree tanto porque te va a besar y también porque cree tener una oportunidad con vos, y nah, no lo iba a dejar, es un bobo total…- he starts talking fast and nonsense- como sea, si a vos te gusta, adelante, bésalo, a mi me podría importar menos…, es más, me voy para que podas ir a almorzar con el.

And with that he starts to walk towards the door.

-Felipe- you stop him holding onto his sweater- ¿Por qué decís todo esto? ¿Estás celoso?

He turns finally but still not making eye contact with you, and reaches for one of your hands, his eyes looking down.

-Y, bueno si, un poco, pero…- he stops choosing his next words really carefully- se que no tengo derecho, da igual.

And again, starts talking nonsense.- Porque vos solo me ves como tu mejor amigo, y bueno, me gusta ser tu amigo, pero, en serio ¿no notas que me gustas mucho?, bueno, no, no te has dado cuenta porque de lo contrario, no se, quizás, ya me hubieras hecho caso y dejarías de verme como tu mejor amigo, que no me molesta, pero.

-Felipe- you interrupted him- solo bésame y ya.

He just stares at you, still couldn’t believing of what you just said, after everything he said, you felt the same way for him after all that time.

-En serio, ¿eso querés?- you nod at his question.

-Si, eso quiero…¿y, vas a besarme?- you ask him getting closer again and slowly putting your arms around his neck, and like a reflect, his hands went into your waist, fitting perfectly, and just like, your lips meet for a moment, making you both smile.

yn_yln

Liked by juanicar and 3,789 others.

Alexa play “Nonsense” by Sabrina Carpenter; te quiero muchísimo, mi guapo 🫶🏻

View all 2,866 comments.

pipegonzalezotano: Te quiero mucho más, mi guapa! 🩷

lsdln.love: le dijo “mi guapo” 😭

blaspolidorii: AYYYY! YO SABÍA 🥺

franromerofran: Yo también lo sabía! Pido ser padrino !!!

yn_yln: @blaspolidorii @franromerofran cállense de nuevo, no hemos hablado de nada de esooo.

pipegonzalezotano: @yn_yln yo si quiero casarme 😭

[xjulixred45x]

What unpopular opinion of yours in the fandom of sds/4koa?

Mmhm...dificult. lets see.

They ruined Jericho: this is pretty obvious, what was the need to turn NNT's best secondary character into a PEDOPHILE? other than she's super out of character from the Jericho we know and love. This especially hurt me as a Jericho stand.

Ban x Elaine (despite being super shady) is ironically NNT's best constructed relationship😑: this rather shows how low the standards were with Nakaba in his previous work. If Elaine looked like an ADULT, I think they would be a very pretty couple, but nowadays, it makes me kind of yikes to see them before the timeskipe.

Tristan is...boring: it's not bad!! not at all! It's just that his good-natured, do-nothing-wrong attitude (thanks to his loving upbringing) is a type of attitude that I can overcome to a certain extent, but if Tristan doesn't show REAL change in the story soon, he'll move down quite a bit on my list. .

related to that-

It makes no sense for Tristan to continue trusting Chion: LET'S SEE, even if he is his cousin, it is more than obvious that Chion hid information, attacked knowing that Percival was the child of the prophecy, separated from the group to go after Gawain alone and KILL HIM....and yet Tristan still sees him as a friend??! Tristan is kind of an idiot.

Arthur had the reasons to become evil: I know it sounds contradictory compared to the other posts I made, but let's put ourselves in a situation: Arthur was treated badly by his brother all his life until he became king at the age of 15, since he was A teenager was put in charge of an entire kingdom, with a selfish teacher who, more like a student, saw him as a possible tool. The kingdom that Arthur loves was constantly under attack by conflicts caused bc two assholes(yk who i mean) of other races and that ended up causing 1- HIS DEATH, that he will be left without an arm, that AN ANCESTRAL ENTITY WILL POSSESS HIM (because of his "master") and later 2- THE DESTRUCTION OF HIS KINGDOM.

Even if we all had wanted Arthur to have continued to be the sun child that we all loved, with all that TRAUMA, the PAIN and ANGUST that he had to go through, it didn't seem very viable....FUCK YOU NAKABA---

I think is all

_____

(ESPAÑOL)

arruinaron a Jericho: esto es bastante obvio ¿cual era la necesidad de convertir al mejor personaje secundario de NNT en una PEDOFILA? aparte de que es super fuera de personaje de la Jericho que conocemos y amamos. esto le dolio especialmente como una Jericho stand.

El Ban x Elaine(pese a ser super turbio) es irónicamente la relación mejor construida de NNT😑: esto mas bien muestra lo bajos que eran los estándares con Nakaba en su obra anterior. si Elaine se viera como una ADUTLA, creo que serian una pareja muy bonita, pero en oa actualidad, me da algo de cosa verlos antes del timeskipe.

Tristán es...aburrido: no es malo!! para nada! solo que su actitud de niño buenachon y que no hace nada malo(gracias a su crianza amorosa) es un tipo de actitud que puedo vancar hasta cierto punto, pero si Tristán no muestra un cambio REAL en la obra pronto, descendera bastante en mi lista.

relaciónado con eso-

no tiene sentido que Tristan siga confiando en Chion: A VER, aun si es su primo, es mas que obvio que Chion oculto información, ataco a sabiendas de que Percival era el niño de la profesia, se separo del grupo para ir tras Gawain solo y MATARLO....y aun asi Tristan sigue viendolo como un amigo??! Tristan es algo idiota.

Arthur tenia las razones para volverse malvado: se que suena contradictorio en comparación a los otros post que hice, pero pongamonos en situación: a Arthur lo trato mal su hermano toda su vida hasta que se convirtió en rey a los 15 AÑOS, desde que era un adolescente le pusieron acargo de un reino entero, con una maestra egoista que mas como un alumno lo veia como una posible herramienta, el reino al que Arthur ama estaba constantemente bajo ataque por conflictos causados por dos pendejos de otras razas y que eso termino causando 1- SU MUERTE, que quedará sin brazo, que UNA ENTIDAD ANCENSTRAL LO POSEEYERA(por culpa de su "maestra")y mas tarde 2- LA DESTRUCCIÓN DE SU REINO.

aún si todos hubieramos querido que Arthur hubiera seguido siendo el niño sol que todos amamos, con todo ese TRAUMA, el DOLOR y ANGUSTIA que tuvo que pasar, no se veia muy viable....PUDRETE NAKABA---

[didishawn]

Dumb boy (Gavi x Reader)

Warnings: Gavi is an asshole to you because he hasn't grown up from his kindergarten-like flirting phase, still an asshole, you don't take his shit, he goes too far with his comments, enemies that somehow are still together after so many years, angst, not a good ending at all unless anyone wants a second part, I actually love Gavi even if by the nature of this fic it doesn't seem so, lots of Spanish

Masterlist

Pablo Martín Páez Gavira is the name of the boy you hate the most, unfortunately, it seems that your destiny will always be next to him.

You were kids when you met, age four and in the same class back in your hometown, he spent his days pulling on your pigtails and making fun of you. You shared the same classes and friends but never truly got along.

Unfortunately your parents did get along, becoming fast friends and with the ages, you two were forced multiple times to hang out.

You were most exited when you found out Gavi was moving to Barcelona, even if you unlike the others didn't quite see his talent, you were glad he was supposedly good enough for Barça.

Your joy didn't last long, though, as a couple weeks later your father too informed you of you family moving to the very same city.

You cheered yourself up by thinking maybe everything wouldn't be that bad, with Gavi in La Masía and you on your own school. But of course nothing ever goes good for you, with your parents still into forcing you two to hang out and you eventually meeting some of Gavi's teammates and friendships being formed.

"¿Qué pasa entre Gavi y tú que se odian tanto?" one of the boys, Ansu asks you one day. (what's the matter between you and Gavi that makes you both hate each other so much?)

"Es un idiota ese amigo tuyo, parece que no tiene nada más que hacer que molestarme" (that friend of yours is an idiot, has nothing better to do than bother me)

Ansu makes sure to keep that information on mind for later times, even if he has personally never seen Gavi being as bad as his usual self towards you.

It isn't until some years pass that he realises how cruel his friend can be when it comes to you.

Gavi has just debuted on the first team, a reason to celebrate. Not for you, but it was just your luck you both end up in the same house party, him with his teammates, you with a couple friends, inicially only approaching each other so you can greet everyone but him.

You are dressed in a short red dress, so tight it leaves nothing to imagination, that your friends forced you into.

"No puedes seguir llorando por el gilipollas ese. Tienes que salir y olvidarte de él por completo" one of them told you, her phylosophy on life is to go out partying to forget any broken hearts. (you can't keep crying for that idiot. You, have to go out, and completely forgey him)

Broken hearts like yours after that douchebag you used to call your boyfriend, the one you had been dating for year and a half, decided to cheat on you out of nowhere.

The boys, the ones you know and are friends with are quick to compliment you on you, appearance, making you blush, meanwhile Gavi rolls his eyes and glares at you. He looks you up and down, he hasn't uttered a word yet, he lets out a mean laugh.

"Ahora entiendo por qué el gilipollas ese te puso los cuernos" (now I understand why that asshole cheated on you)

All of you are wide eyed as you turn to him "¿Perdona?" (excuse me?)

"¿Me estás diciendo que no te parece normal que te pongan los cuernos cuando tú básicamente vas por ahí vestida como una puta? Probablemente tú hiciste lo mismo con él" (you are telling me you don't find it normal for him to cheat on you when you go out dressing like a whore? You probably did the very same thing)

"¿Pero que dices, payaso?" Ansu yells at him, hitting him on the back of the head, Pedri too glares at him. (the fuck are you saying, you clown?)

"¿Ustedes no piensan lo mismo? Por favor, poco más y lleva un cartel con: follame en la frente. Como si alguien fuese a querer con ella" (don't you both think the same? Please, she is one step away from having a sign with: fuck me on her forehead. As if someone would ever want something with her)

"¿Se puede saber cuál es tu puto problema?" you finally manage to say, trying your best to contain your tears. (what the fuck is your problem?)

"Ay, por favor, no te hagas la tonta. Es normal que el tipo ese te engañara, no entiendo ni como aguanto tenerte tan cerca durante tanto tiempo, si es que eres insoportable y tampoco gran cosa" (oh please, don't play dumb. It's normal that the guy cheated on you, I can't ever understand how he lasted that long with you near him, you are insufferable and your looks aren't good either)

Before Gavi has time to realise, his head is tilted sideways and there is a sting in his cheek, you are pushing against his shoulder, and run straight into the bathroom. He receives another push, this time from Ansu as he glares furiously at him, Pedri too looks disappointed.

"¿Se puede saber que coño te pasa?" Pedri shouts at him, his jaw is clenched, so is Gavi's. (care to tell us what the fuck is wrong with you?)

"No necesitáis defenderla para que se os abra de piernas, probablemente ya está ahí dentro esperandoos a ambos" (you don't have to defend her to get her legs wide open, she is probably waiting for you both already)

That night, Gavi arrives home with a purple eye given to him by Ansu Fati.

You two don't see each other in a long while, he believes you to be avoiding him, it bothers him. Meanwhile, you are glad your parents no longer make you hang out with him.

A month or two have gone by before you have to face him again, it's your father's birthday, his best friend is Gavi's dad, and of course they force the asshole to come too. You ignore him, and it annoys him a lot.

He manages to catch you when you try to sneak upstairs into your room.

"He visto que te has hecho muy amiga de Ansu, ¿o capaz algo más?" (I have seen you and Ansu are really good friends now, or perhaps something more?)

"¿De verdad vienes otra vez a tocarme la polla? ¿No te basto el otro día? Déjame en paz, Gavi, olvídate de mi existencia como yo estoy intentando hacer contigo" (you seriously come again to fuck with me? Didn't you have enough the other day? Leave me alone, Gavi, forget about my existence like I am trying to do with yours)

Gavi's usual stone cold gaze when he watches turns soft, sad "Yo no quiero olvidarme de tu existencia, me gustan las cosas como están ahora" (I don't want to forget about you, I like things like they are now)

"¿Tú haciéndome la vida imposible y dejándome en claro lo horrible que soy? Paso" (you making my life impossible and making it clear how horrible I am? Hard pass)

"Esto es lo nuestro, y/n, yo jodiendote y tu picandote, nuestro juego" (this is our thing, y/n, I bothering you and you hating it, our game)

"No, Gavi, este eres tú siendo un gilipollas y odiandome sin ningún motivo" (no, Gavi, this is you being an asshole and hating me without a motive)

You try to leave, he stops you.

"No te odio" (I don't hate you)

"Si, claro" (yeah, right)

"Me gustas, y/n, ¿tan difícil es de comprender?" (I like you, y/n, is it that hard to understand?)

You are incredulous as you watch him, you tear your arm from his hold.

"¿De verdad me estás diciendo que me has tratado como auténtica mierda porque eres un gilipollas con edad mental de niño de tres años? ¿Te piensas que por joderme la vida me ibas a gustar?" (are you seriously telling me you have treated me as if I were shit because you are an idiot with the mental capacity of a three-year-old? You really think that ruining my life would make me like you?)

Gavi knows it's a dumb thing to do, but still does.

"Escúchame bien, tú nunca me vas a gustar, así que olvídate de mi, Gavi. Si de verdad te pensabas que iba a ser una historia donde yo soy la tonta y te perdono años de acoso estás bien equivocado" (listen to me clearly, I will never like you, so forget about me, Gavi. If you really thought this would be one of those stories with me as the dumb main character that forgives you after all this bullying, you are so wrong)

"Haré lo que sea para que me perdones, pero por favor, no me saques de tu vida" (I will do whatever you wish me to so you forgive me, but please let me stay in your life)

"Ya es tarde, te digo que te olvides de mi, cualquier mierda que se te ocurra no será bastante" (it's too late, forget about me I tell you, any shitty idea you have won't be enough)

You do leave this time, leaving a broken boy chastising himself over his stupidity all throughout the years. He understands you hating him, he does too.

Part 2 (Bad ending for Gavi)

Part 2 (Good ending for Gavi)

[melodygatesauthor]

Jake Lockley w/ this prompt: “What would make you the happiest right now?”. The story could be about him hanging out with his best friend after a few around of wine, he likes y/n. It can be platonic or not. You decide since it’s your birthday Queen.

Bad with Feelings

Jake Lockley X gn!Reader

Nonnie YES. This was fun to write. I'm not 100% sure if what I wrote was quite what you're looking for but I loved it haha. We all need a little soft Jake in our lives. - changed the prompt a little to “what can I do to make you happy right now?”

Tags/Warnings: SFW, alcohol consumption, drunk/drinking, friends to lovers, probably one of the CORNIEST things I've written but I love it so deal with it haha.

Word Count: 918

Jake tipped his head back letting the burning liquid course down his throat. You’d lost count of how many shots in he was, but you’d stopped being able to keep up a while ago. You chuckled when he wiped his mouth in his gloved hand and looked at you with a deep lidded gaze.

“One more.” He slurred.

“Nope, come on drunkie, I’ll bring you home.” You took his arm over your shoulder and led him to the black Lincoln parked outside.

“I’m not letting you drive my car amigo.”

“Jake, you don’t have a choice, get in the car.” You opened the passenger’s side door.

“Nope, call a cab.”

On a normal day, Jake was fast, and much stronger than you, but not in the state he was in at that moment. You snagged his keys out of his pocket faster than he could block your arm before you shoved him into the seat and slammed the door. The grown man crossed his arms and scowled out the window while you walked to the other side and got in the driver’s seat.

“Are you…are you pouting?” You looked at him with a raised brow.

His face was downturned and he kept his eyes out the window.

“Just bring me home.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. Jake looked like a child, arms crossed and lips downturned while you started driving toward his house. Fortunately he didn’t live far, so the silent ride was only awkward for a few minutes. You’d known Jake for quite some time, and you knew he was only afraid of a few things, and someone else driving his car was one of them.

“Are you going to be able to walk yourself inside or do I need to carry you?” You looked over at him.

He started going off in Spanish about how fine he was and how much he didn’t need you to take care of him. You rolled your eyes, got out of the car and walked over to his side. You opened the door and the grumpy drunk stayed in his seat, not seeming very willing to let you help him out to the car.

“Jake, come on.”

“No.”

“If you come willingly, I’ll make you your favorite.” You said in a sing-songy tone.”

You leaned over and started trying to undo his seatbelt. He was in the way, making it difficult.

“I don’t want food.” He grumbled.

“Are you going to move over so I can unbuckle you? I mean honestly Jake, what did you expect me to do? It’s just a fucking car, you’re acting foolish.” You scolded.

He started going off on you in Spanish once again. You stood back.

“Fine, you know what? Sit there then. I’m going inside.” You walked toward the house. “I’m gonna stop going out to the bar with you like this if you’re going to do this to me every time!” You shouted as you ripped the door open.

You were hungry, despite him saying he didn’t want food, so you started cooking. Not five minutes later he was stumbling into the house and tripping his way to the living room. You grabbed a glass of water and brought it to him.

“Gracias.” He muttered, taking big gulps of his cup.

“De nada.” You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you get like this? We always have a good time going out and then it always ends with you grumpy and dismissive.”

He handed you the glass and brought his glistening brown eyes up to meet yours. You took the cup and kept your gaze on him, waiting for his answer. He pulled off his hat, letting his curls drop into his face before putting it on the table and combing the stray hairs back.

“Because, when I drink it’s the only time I…feel.”

Your shoulders slumped down and your expression softened.

“What do you mean?” You walked over and sat next to him.

“I’ve done some terrible things, things you can’t begin to understand.” His lips pulled together in a thin line and he looked down at his hands. “And even though I know you’d be better off without me, when I drink, I get this feeling like…”

He trailed off and looked over at you. You didn’t expect anything other than friendship from Jake, and that was all he expected of you, but it was clear something else had developed. You weren’t sure you were ready for what he said next.

“I have these feelings for you that I am afraid to express because I don’t deserve even your friendship, never mind anything more.”

You smirked. They said the truth comes out when you’re drunk, and Jake was full on spilling his guts.

“Jake.” You put the cup on the coffee table and then rested your hand on his arm. “I’m content being friends, but I’m also more than happy to see what comes next. There’s no pressure.” You pushed a stray curl from his face. “What would make you happiest right now?”

He leaned in, the smell of alcohol and tobacco permeated your nostrils. He breathed heavy, bringing a gloved hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned in too, letting the moment happen. His lips were soft, gentle and full of passion.

He pulled back, sporting a rare smile across his beautiful face. You couldn’t stop the smirk from taking over yours too.

“You make me happiest, always.” He said.

Celebration Masterlist

[palavraseminglesbr]

130 Frases em Inglês Para fotos com Tradução

          Nesse artigo iremos mostrar frases em inglês para foto com tradução para o português, portanto fique até o final do post e saiba quais são elas.

Seja uma foto com amigos, sozinha, namorado ou família, é sempre muito complicado escolher qual legenda ficaria mais bonita, não é verdade? Portanto,com nossa lista de frases em inglês que fizemos para melhorar suas legendas nas redes sociais (WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram, etc), suas fotos ficaram bem mais destacadas.

Veja também >>> 100 palavras em inglês mais usada no cotidiano com tradução

130 frases em inglês para foto com tradução para turbinar suas legendas

Be love, be light, be you. (Seja amor, seja luz, seja você.)

I’ve got no self-control. (Eu não tenho auto-controle)

We are all made of stars. Shine! (Todos nós somos feitos de estrelas. Brilhe!)

Life’s too short to have regrets. (A vida é muito curta para arrependimentos)

What is coming is better than what is gone. (O que virá é melhor do que o que se foi)

Life is better at the beach. (A vida é melhor na praia.)

Always be thankful! (Sempre seja grato)

Don’t listen to what they say. Go see. (Não escute o que eles dizem. Vá ver por você mesmo.)

I love the little things you do. (Eu amo as pequenas coisas que você faz)

We all deserve something better. (Todos nós merecemos algo melhor.)

You can do a lot with a smile. Especially a better day. (Dá pra fazer muita coisa com um sorriso. Principalmente um dia melhor.)

It’s all good now. (Está tudo bem agora)

Don’t let little stupid things break your happiness. (Não deixe pequenas coisas estúpidas acabarem com sua felicidade)

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. (Não importa a duração do inverno, a primavera com certeza virá a seguir)

Do more with less. (Faça mais com menos).

My body, my rules. (Meu corpo, minhas regras)

You are capable of more than you think. (Você é capaz de mais do que pensa)

It takes more energy to be mean than to be kind. (É preciso mais energia para ser mal do que para ser gentil)

Your only limit is your mind. (Seu único limite é a sua mente)

Take more risks. (Arrisque-se mais)

A great future does not require a great past. (Um grande futuro não requer um grande passado.)

Be the kindness the world needs. (Seja a gentileza que o mundo precisa)

Focus on progress not perfection. (Foco no progresso, não na perfeição)

Mistakes are portals of discovery. (Os erros são portais para descobertas)

Feed your soul. (Alimente sua alma)

You don’t have to hurt someone to move on. (Você não precisa machucar ninguém para seguir em frente)

Nothing is worth more than laughter. (Nada vale mais que o riso)

Just smile. (Apenas sorria)

Don’t wait for inspiration. Be an inspiration. (Não espere por inspiração. Seja uma inspiração)

I am not lazy. I am on energy saving mode. (Eu não sou preguiçoso. Eu estou no modo de economia de energia)

If it doesn’t make you happy, let it go. (Se isso não te faz feliz, deixe ir)

Thank you God for blessing me much more than I deserve. (Obrigado Deus por me abençoar muito mais do que eu mereço.)

Live the life you’ve imagined. (Viva a vida que você imaginou)

Don’t forget your dream. (Não esqueça do seu sonho.)

What ever you decide to do, make sure it makes you happy. (O que quer que você decida fazer, certifique-se de que te faça feliz)

Make each day a new horizon. (Faça de cada dia um novo horizonte.)

Enjoy today! (Aproveite o hoje!)

Be positive, patient and persistent! (Seja positivo, paciente e persistente!)

It’s a new day. (É um novo dia.)

Follow your dreams. (Siga seus sonhos)

If you don’t belong, don’t be long. (Se você não pertence, não fique muito tempo)

God is love. (Deus é amor)

Let it be. (Deixe ser)

I will be grateful for this day. (Serei grato por este dia)

In the end, we only regret the chances we didn´t take. (No final, só nos arrependemos das oportunidades que não aproveitamos)

Success is the best revenge. (Sucesso é a melhor vingança.)

Do more of what makes you happy. (Faça mais o que te faz feliz)

Life is beautiful. (A vida é bonita.)

Love your body. (Ame seu corpo.)

Forever hungry. (Sempre com fome)

Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places. (Às vezes, escolhas erradas nos levam para os lugares certos.)

Forever young! (Eternamente jovem!)

Inspire someone today. (Inspire alguém hoje)

If not now, when? (Se não agora, quando?)

All you need is love. (Tudo que você precisa é amor)

I hope you feel the light in your soul. (Eu espero que você sinta a luz em sua alma.)

 You have the key. Why don’t you use it? (Você tem a chave. Por que você não usa?)

The strength that I need is already inside me. (A força que eu preciso já está dentro de mim.)

Always see the good side in all things. (Veja sempre o lado bom em todas as coisas.)

Joy is not in things, is in us. (A alegria não está nas coisas, está em nós.)

Courage, dear heart. (Coragem, querido coração.)

If you can’t be kind, be quiet. (Se você não pode ser gentil, fique quieto.)

Never forget to smile. (Nunca esqueça de sorrir.)

You’re my sunshine. (Você é meu raio de sol.)

Dream big. (Sonhe alto.)

Things take time. (As coisas levam tempo.)

It’s time to love. (É tempo de amar.)

Adventure is out there. (A aventura está lá fora.)

Home is wherever I’m with you. (Lar é qualquer lugar que eu esteja com você)

Your love was handmade for somebody like me. (Seu amor foi feito apara alguém como eu)

Never lose your faith. (Nunca perca sua fé.)

Long life, small world… (Vida longa, mundo pequeno.)

Your happiness is your responsibility. (A sua felicidade é sua responsabilidade)

May love be light and all evil be brief. (Que o amor seja leve e todo mal seja breve)

Who looks back, stumbles! (Quem olha para trás, tropeça!)

Do all things with love. (Faça tudo com amor.)

As long as there is a dream to follow, there will be reason to exist. (Enquanto houver um sonho para seguir, haverá motivo para existir.)

The best gift is you. (O melhor presente é você.)

Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud. (Tente ser um arco-íris na nuvem de alguém.)

Make love, not war. (Faça amor, não faça guerra.)

Love is the answer, at least for most of the questions in my heart. (O amor é a resposta, ao menos para a maioria das perguntas do meu coração.)

Just keep me where the light is. (Apenas me mantenha aonde a luz está.)

What I sought and didn’t find, I became. (O que eu procurava e não encontrei, eu me tornei.)

Show the world what you can do. (Mostre ao mundo o que você pode fazer)

I chose to be happy. (Escolhi ser feliz.)

Live the story you want to tell. (Viva a história que você quer contar.)

Don’t be afraid to dream! (Não tenha medo de sonhar!)

Be the person you want to have in your life. (Seja a pessoa que você quer ter em sua vida.)

Sometimes you win and sometimes you learn. (Às vezes você ganha e às vezes você aprende.)

Flowers need time to bloom. You too. (Flores precisam de tempo para florescer. Você também.)

No rain, no flowers. (Sem chuva, sem flores.)

Everybody grows at different rates. (Todo mundo cresce em diferentes modos.)

Life is a collection of moments. (A vida é uma coleção de momentos)

Everyday is a new fresh start. (Todo dia é um novo começo.)

Remember why you started. (Lembre-se do porquê você começou.)

Kindness changes everything. (Bondade muda tudo.)

Trust the timing of your life. (Confie no momento da sua vida.)

Life is tough, but so are you. (A vida é dura, mas você também é.)

The best is yet to come. (O melhor está por vir.)

Work hard. Stay humble. (Trabalhe duro, continue humilde.)

Never say never. (Nunca diga nunca)

To err is human, to forgive is divine. (Errar é humano, perdoar é divino.)

Faith is everything when you have nothing. (A fé é tudo, quando não se tem nada)

My dream came true because of you. (Meu sonho se realizou por causa de você.)

You don’t need anyone to make you happy. Happiness is for everyone. (Você não precisa de ninguém para te fazer feliz. A felicidade é para todos.)

It’s not the winning that counts, but how you play the game. (O importante é participar.)

Life is full of surprises. (A vida é cheia de surpresas.)

Never forget: Gratitude is the best attitude. (Nunca se esqueça: A gratidão é a melhor atitude.)

Life is like a fairy tale. Everything always ends well. If it doesn’t, it’s because it’s not yet the end. (A vida é como um conto de fadas. Tudo sempre acaba bem. Se não acabar, é porque ainda não é o fim.)

When you feel down, remember that nothing lasts forever. (Quando se sentir para baixo, lembre-se de que nada é para sempre.)

Love heals. (O amor cura.)

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. (O que não te mata, te deixa mais forte.)

I’m the best at what I do. (Eu sou o melhor no que faço.)

Hope springs eternal. (A esperança é a última que morre.

You can’t please everyone. (Não se consegue agradar a todos.)

I’m happy now. I’ll be happy forever. (Eu estou feliz agora. Vou ser feliz para sempre.)

Don’t give up on your first try. (Não desista na primeira tentativa.)

You’re destined for great things. (Você é um predestinado.)

Tomorrow is another day. (Amanhã é outro dia.)

Life goes on! (Vida que segue! Bola pra frente!)

Last night I had a dream. Now I see it here. (Na noite passada, tive um sonho. Agora, o vejo aqui.)

Patience is a virtue. (A paciência é uma virtude.)

Love is all I need. (O amor é tudo que eu preciso.)

The more you learn, the better you get. (Quanto mais se aprende, melhor se fica.)

When things seem impossible, don’t give up. Miracles happen. (Quando as coisas parecerem impossíveis, não desista. Milagres acontecem.)

Life is eternal if you really have faith. (A vida é eterna se você realmente tiver fé.)

Time is money. (Tempo é dinheiro.)

Hard work can make your dreams come true. (O trabalho duro pode realizar os seus sonhos.)

I’m serious about what I do. (Eu levo a sério o que eu faço.)

Winning is a matter of practice. (Vencer é uma questão de prática.)

Essas são as principais frases em inglês para foto com tradução em português para turbinar suas redes sociais com belas legendas em inglês. Gostou das frases ? Deixe seu comentário com as que você mais gosta!

O post 130 Frases em Inglês Para fotos com Tradução apareceu primeiro em PALAVRAS EM INGLÊS BR.

[sigelfire]

#SOYCOMOQUIEROSER: DIEGO LUNA

Checa todas las confesiones que nos hizo el actor

Revista moi - 2018

1. ¿Qué película y qué libro recomiendas? Pues llevo un rato viendo puras películas infantiles, jajaja, pero recomendaría Captain Fantastic y el libro Canción de tumba, de Julián Herbert.

2. ¿Para qué eres buenazo, que sea diferente a lo que te dedicas? Pues, me gusta mucho cocinar y es algo a lo que le dedico mucho tiempo, pero tengo bastante que aprender.

3. ¿Qué es lo que más te ha costado aprender en la vida? A decir que no. Muchas veces me hallo en situaciones que digo, “qué fácil hubiera sido decir que no desde el principio”, y termino siempre siendo un facilote. Mis amigos dicen que tengo el “no” fracturado.

4. El taco perfecto es… ¡Uff! El que es con tortilla hecha a mano, porque lo que trae adentro, pues no voy a escoger, si la maravilla es que tenemos tanta diversidad; pero si la tortilla está hecha a mano, siempre es mejor.

5. ¿Cuántas veces te han roto el corazón? Uuuy, varias. Una bien, porque ya después uno aprende. Pero esa sí en cachitos, como las copas de vidrio muy finito. Es un rico ejercicio aventarse, atreverse, no entrarle con miedo.

6. ¿Aprendiste algo? Que en las relaciones hay una cosa maravillosa y mágica que cuando las cosas se dan, parece que es por arte de magia; pero si intentas, luchas y te aferras, el final siempre es catastrófico. Yo me aferré mucho tiempo y pagué las consecuencias.

7. ¿A qué huele tu coche? Depende, jajaja. La semana que mis hijos están conmigo, a una cosa que se llama slime, que los trae vueltos locos, que huele como a detergente y pegamento espantoso. Entonces, a eso huele una semana sí y una no.

8. ¿Qué defecto te quitarías? Varios, varios. Sobre todo en mi trabajo, soy muy controlador, muy aprensivo, me gustaría saber soltar. Pero tengo muchos otros defectos.

9. Superhéroe favorito: Deadpool

10. ¿Qué reglas siempre desobedecen tus hijos? Mmm, no despertarme en la mañana cuando tengo llamado nocturno.

11. Grosería favorita: Las uso casi todas, jajaja, no tengo preferencia. Pero la que más uso sería… pinche.

12. Tu peor hábito: Fumar. Es algo que quiero dejar pronto, aunque todavía no me he atrevido a hacerlo, y comer mucho, soy un glotón.

13. ¿En qué eres épicamente malo? En el karaoke. No se me da. No es la cantada, ya hasta en una película canté, solo me da un pánico escénico impresionante. Es un tema de exposición, de vulnerabilidad. Casi nada me da pena, pero cantar en un karaoke ni muy borracho lo hago con seguridad.

14. ¿Qué pregunta te choca que te hagan? Si estoy saliendo con alguien o no. Más porque cada vez se ponen más ingeniosos en la forma en la que preguntan. Pareciera que tiene que ver con otra cosa y, de repente, dices, ¡ay, cabrón! Si contesto eso estoy diciendo si tengo novia o no. Digo, no es tan grave tampoco.

15. Tu peor miedo: No poder estar ahí acompañando a mis hijos en ese proceso de entender este lugar en el que viven y crecen. A no estar presente. Yo no tenía ese miedo hasta que nacieron.

16. ¿Qué le deseas a México? Empatía, paz y conciliación entre los ciudadanos.

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

English translation:

#I AM AS I WANNA BE: DIEGO LUNA

Check all the confessions that the actor made to us

Moi Mag - 2018

1. What film and what book do you recommend? Well, I've been watching only children's movies for a while, hahahah, but I would recommend Captain Fantastic and the book Tomb Song, by Julián Herbert.

2. What are you good fot, that is different to what you do? Well, I love cooking and it's something I dedicate a lot of time to, but I have a lot to learn.

3. What has been the most difficult thing for you to learn in life? Saying no. Many times I find myself in situations where I say, “how easy it would have been to say no from the beginning,” and I always end up being a pushover. My friends say that my “no” is fractured.

4. The perfect taco is… Phew! The one with a handmade tortilla, because what's inside, well, I'm not going to choose, cause the wonder is that we have so much diversity; but if the tortilla is made by hand, it is always better.

5. How many times have you had your heart broken? Wow, several. Very well (broken) once, because later you learn. But that one time, in little pieces, like those very thin glasses. It is a rich exercise to go for it, to dare, not to get into it with fear.

6. Did you learn something? That in relationships there is a wonderful and magical thing, that's when things happen it seems like it's a work of magic; but if you try, fight and hold on, the end is always catastrophic. I held on for a long time and paid the consequences.

7. What does your car smell like? It depensa hahahah. The week that my children are with me, to something called slime, which drives them crazy and it smells horrible, like detergent and glue. So, that's what it smells like every other week.

8. What defect would you remove yourself? Many, many. Especially in my work, I am very controlling, very apprehensive, I would like to know how to let go. But I have many other defects.

9. Favorite superhero: Deadpool

10. Which rules do your children always disobey? Errrhmm, not waking me up in the morning when I have to work at night.

11. Favorite swearing: I use almost all of them, hahahah, I don't have a preference. But the one I use the most would be… "pinche" (it's an adjective and it was translated as "damn" or "fucking"...).

12. Your worst habit: Smoking. It's something I want to quit soon, although I haven't dared to do it yet, and I eat a lot, I'm a glutton.

13. What are you epically bad at? Karaoke. I can't do it. It's not the singing thing, I even sang in a movie... it just gives me incredible stage fright. It is a matter of exposure, of vulnerability. Almost nothing makes me feel ashamed, but I can't sing karaoke even when I'm very drunk.

14. What question bothers you when they ask you? Whether I'm dating someone or not. Moreover because they are getting more and more clever in the way they ask. It seems like it has to do with something else and, suddenly, you say, oh, bastard! If I answer that I will tell if I have a girlfriend or not. I mean, it's not that serious either.

15. Your biggest fear: Not being able to be there accompanying my children in that process of understanding this place where they live and grow. To not being present. I didn't have that fear until they were born.

16. What do you wish for México? Empathy, peace and agreement among its citizens.

[lem-de-lemon]

English: (Translate)

I had already uploaded one of these on Amino, but it was just Elijah. This is a second, less literal version of a "Reverse AU"?

So...

Sydney Sargent: The Architect.

Sydney is a nurse's aide at Camp Here & There, Lucille saved him when he was a child and despite his difficulties he dedicated his life to being useful to her and staying by his best friend's side keeping him safe. He is affectionate although somewhat distracted so he can sometimes seem distant, but he does not stop loving others. He spends his days mostly in his office recording his progress on a "project" on cassettes and as a hobby he also likes to take care of a small garden of wild plants. He has a special interest in fungi so part of his library is about them. He suspects that he may be ill, but he has not said anything about it.

Jedidiah Martin: The Muse

Nurse at Camp Here & There. He has a good heart, but the children run away from him despite his attempts to help the other camp counselors. He is in charge of giving the announcements in the camp, he doesn't seem to be doing too badly. For some reason he seems to be very interested in clocks, he has a small collection of several of them in different and extravagant designs from around the world. Lately he feels watched, he is not very religious but he claims to be persecuted by a guy with a goat mask (The others don't know whether to believe him or not and those who do have very strange theories about satanic cults. Sydney doesn't have an opinion on that , in fact he seems a little uncomfortable and prefers to avoid the topic.) He has a slight allergy to rabbits.

(Up and) Adam: A stranger in the woods.

He was once a psychology student, but one day he disappeared in the woods and no one cared enough to go find him. He has a strange obsession with Jedidiah Martin, he believes she may be the solution to his problems. He doesn't like Sydney, but he has offered Jedidiah sessions to talk about him (Gaslight?). He's weird. When he takes off his mask he makes the others feel sleepy, sometimes it amuses him to wake Jedidiah up by making a lot of noise with his tambourine. Probably cannibal. "Bone Apple Teeth"

Elijah Volkov: A demon with a PhD.

A "nice" nurse demon, he walks around in the dreams of others (especially Jedidiah and Sydney) causing them to have quite strange nightmares. He wears part of a pink suit that would not at all give you the feeling that you were talking to a doctor. Why study medicine? He really isn't sure, maybe he wanted to understand the camp nurses a little more, maybe he was bored or maybe he just finds it funny to correct others so they call him "Dr." He has a strange relationship with Sydney, possibly it has to do with his medical condition or why Jedidiah went from looking like a dead person overnight to looking better than ever when they were kids. He has a strange taste with elephants, he would put stickers of them in other people's notebooks and the others would find them on random pages everywhere.

Español: (Lengua nativa)

Ya había subido uno de éstos en Amino, pero solo era Elijah. Esta es una segunda versión menos literal de un "AU Reverse"?

Asíque...

Sydney Sargent: El arquitecto.

Sydney es un ayudante de enfermería en Camp Here & There, Lucille lo salvó cuando era un niño y a pesar de las dificultades dedicó su vida a serle útil y permanecer al lado de su mejor amigo manteniéndolo a salvo. Es cariñoso aunque algo distraido por lo que aveces puede verse distante, pero no deja de amar a los demás. Pasa sus días mayormente en su oficina grabando sus avances sobre un "proyecto" en cassettes y como pasatiempo a parte le gusta cuidar de un pequeño jardín de plantas silvestres. Tiene un interés especial en los hongos por lo que parte de su biblioteca trata sobre ellos. Se sospecha que pueda estar enfermo, pero no ha dicho nada al respecto.

Jedidiah Martin: La Musa

Enfermero en Camp Here & There. Tiene un buen corazón, pero los niños huyen de él a pesar de sus intentos por ayudar a los demás consejeros del campamento. Es el encargado de dar los anuncios en el campamento, no parece irle mal. Por alguna razón parece interesarle muchos los relojes, tiene una pequeña colección de varios de ellos en diferentes y extravagantes diseños del mundo. Últimamente se siente observado, no es muy religioso pero dice ser perseguido por un sujeto con máscara de cabra (Los demás no saben si creerle o no y los que si lo hacen tienen teorías muy raras sobre cultos satánicos. Sydney no tiene una opinión sobre eso, de hecho parece algo incómodo y prefiere evitar el tema.) Tiene una leve alergia a los conejos.

(Up and) Adam: Un extraño en el bosque.

Alguna vez fué un estudiante de psicología, pero un día desapareció en el bosque y a nadie le importó lo suficiente para ir por él. Tiene una extraña obsesión con Jedidiah Martin, cree que pueda ser la solución a sus problemas. No le gusta Sydney, pero le ha ofrecido a Jedidiah tener sesiones para hablar sobre él (¿Gaslight?). Es... extraño. Cuando se quita la máscara provoca que los demás se sientan somnolientos, aveces le divierte despertar a Jedidiah haciendo mucho ruido con su pandereta. Probablemente caníbal. "Bone Apple Teeth"

Elijah Volkov: Un demonio con doctorado.

Un "simpático" demonio enfermero, se pasea en los sueños de los demás (Especialmente Jedidiah y Sydney) provocandoles pesadillas bastante extrañas. Porta parte de un traje rosa que para nada te daría la sensación de estar hablando con un doctor. ¿Porqué estudiar medicina? Realmente no está seguro, quizás queria enteneder un poco más a los enfermeros del campamento, quizás estaba oburrido o quizás simplemente encuentra divertido corregir a los demás para quelo llamen "Dr". Tiene una relación extraña con Sydney, posiblemente tenga que ver con su condición médica o porqué de la noche a la mañana Jedidiah pasó de verse como un muerto a estar mejor que nunca cuando eran niños. Tiene una extraña afición con los elefantes, pagaría stickers de ellos en los cuadernos de los demás y los demás los encontrarían en páginas random por todoa lados.

[askteikoku]

To Genda: Beside being Goalkeeper, do you play in a different position?P.S. What is your favourite color? (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Finally I finished the first ask!! I put a lot of love and effort in this one since it was the first and I wanted to draw everyone! Next ones will be simpler (possibly) (maybe) (maybe not). I hope you all will like it! Gonna share our love for these boys (and Haruna). Text + Spanish translation under the cut!

English text: Haruna: Listen everyone! Our first ask arrived! Narukami: For whom it is? Haruna: For Genda! Genda: Me!? Fudou: Hehe, Mr. Popular. Haruna: It sais... *read the ask* Genda: Hmm, let's see... Gojou: Nothing for me? Banjou: Dude... Genda: When I started playing soccer I was a Forward. Genda: But one day our Goalkeeper couldn't make it to the match because he was sick. Our coach said that we should withdraw because we didn't have a substitute. I couldn't stand that. Genda: I'll play as Goalkeeper, Mr. Miyamoto! Coach Miyamoto: Are you sure, Genda? Genda: I am! Sakuma: Genda, you love playing as Forward. Genda: I was very nervous at first but my friends supported and comforted me. Sakuma: This face painting will bring you good luck. Jimon: It's Oono's brother's! 100% realiable. Genda: Leave the goal in my hands!! Sakuma, Jimon I rely on you to score!! Genda: I stopped the first shoot and then the second. The more we played the more excited I was. I have never had so much fun. Since that day I protect my dear team from the goal. Haruna: Such a beautiful story! Kidou & Fudou: Is that why he paint his face? Narukami: And your favourite color? Genda: Orange! It's my lucky color!! Spanish Text: Haruna: ¡Escuchad todos! ¡Ha llegado la primera pregunta! Narukami: ¿Para quién es? Haruna: ¡Es para Genda! Genda: ¿¡Para mí!? Fudou: Je je, Sr. Popular. Haruna: Dice... *lee la pregunta* Genda: Hmm, veamos... Gojou: ¿Nada para mí? Banjou: Tío... Genda: Cuando empecé a jugar al fútbol era delantero. Genda: Pero un día nuestro portero no pudo llegar al partido porque estaba enfermo. Nuestro entrenador dijo que tendríamos que retirarnos porque no teníamos un suplent. No podía soportar algo así. Genda: Yo jugaré como portero, entrenador Miyamoto! Ent. Miyamoto: ¿Estás seguro, Genda? Genda: ¡Lo estoy! Sakuma: Genda, a ti te encanta jugar de delantero. Genda: Estaba muy nervioso al comienzo pero mis amigos me apoyaron y me animaron. Sakuma: Esta pintura de cara te traerá suerte. Jimon: Es del hermano de Oono, 100% fiable. Genda: ¡¡Dejad la portería en mis manos!! ¡¡Sakuma, Jimon, cuento con vosotros para anotar!! Genda: Paré el primer tiro y después el segundo. Cuanto más jugábamos más me emocionaba. Nunca me había divertido tanto. Desde ese día protejo a mi querido equipo desde la portería. Haruna: ¡Qué historia tan bonita! Kidou & Fudou: ¿Es por eso que se pinta la cara? Narukami: ¿Y tu color favorito? Genda: ¡Naranja! ¡¡Es mi color de la suerte!!

[groriatrevi10xx]

...¡Throne Labyrinth!...

"Un tipo de relaciones/A Relationship Type"

↓↓↓

*Umbra y/and Nomula*

→Umbra:

>No le gusta el vocabulario de Nomula, pero se asombra al ver cómo la Mujer no sólo es un Caballero, sino también una Herrera.../She doesn't like Nomula's vocabulary, but she feels amazed to see how the Woman is not only a Knight, but also a Blacksmith...

>Ha escuchado leyendas e historia sobre Nomula, nunca pensó que la vería en persona... Siente cierta envidia por Arma, tiene suerte de tener a este Caballero en su equipo.../He has heard legends and history about Nomula, he never thought he would see her in person... He feels some envy for Arma, he is lucky to have this Knight on his team...

+Nomula: Admiración/Admiration... ⭐

~~~~~~~~~~

→Nomula:

<Umbra es una persona respetable.../Umbra is a respectable person...

<Nomula no tiene problemas con Umbra, pero no negará que realmente no es una rival para las Brujas, aun así… Se ha ganado su respeto, espera algún día competir con ella en un duelo…/Nomula has no problems with Umbra, but she will not deny that she is not really a rival for the Witches, even so... She has earned their respect, she hopes to one day compete with her in a duel...

+Umbra: Respeto/Respect... 🏵️

---Pequeño Diálogo/Small Dialogue---

°Umbra: Estoy tan feliz de verte en persona.../I'm so happy to see you in person...

°Nomula: Reina Umbra... Mis respetos para ti.../Queen Umbra... My respects to you...

*"Catasto" y/and Umbra*

→"Catasto":

>Desde el primer día que te vi decidí que tenía que buscarte... No importaba el tiempo que tomara, te iba a encontrar.../From the first day I saw you, I decided that I had to look for you... No matter how long it took, I was going to find you...

>No hay mujer que sea igual a ti, eres única, valiente, inteligente y justa.../There is no woman who is equal to you, you are unique, brave, intelligent and fair...

+Umbra: Amor/Love... ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~

→Umbra:

<Nunca pensé que me enamoraría, no después de lo que me pasó y viví... Entonces apareciste y mi corazón volvió a latir.../I never thought I would fall in love, not after what I happened and experienced... Then you appeared and my heart beat again...

<No hay nada más lindo que estar a tu lado.../There is nothing more beautiful than being by your side...

+"Catasto": Amor/Love... ♥️

---Pequeño Diálogo/Small Dialogue---

°"Catasto": Déjame ser parte de tu vida, te lo ruego.../Let me be part of your life, I beg you...

°Umbra: No hay necesidad de suplicar, porque quiero que seas parte de mi vida.../There's no need to beg, because I want you to be part of my life...

*Zero y/and Peyton*

→Zero:

>Zero piensa que Peyton debería cambiar sus expresiones faciales, termina asustando a todos.../Zero thinks Peyton should change her facial expressions, she ends up scaring everyone...

>Nunca se lo dirá a Peyton, pero la adora como si fuera una gran amiga con toda el alma, pero es orgulloso igual que ella, así que no se lo dirá.../He will never tell Peyton, but he adores her as if she were a great friend with all his soul, but he is proud Just like her, so he won't tell her...

+Peyton: Amigo/Friend... ☀️

~~~~~~~~~~~

→Peyton:

<Cree que Zero tiene problemas de hiperactividad, aunque eso lo hace más feliz de lo normal y menos grave... Así que no le molesta.../He thinks Zero has hyperactivity problems, although that makes him happier than normal and less serious... So it doesn't bother him...

<Puede que pelee con Zero muchas veces, pero es un gran amigo que adora.../He may fight with Zero many times, but he is a great friend who adores...

+Zero: Amigo/Friend... ☀️

---Pequeño Diálogo/Small Dialogue---

°Zero: ¿Qué pienso de Peyton?... Bueno, ella es una buena persona.../What do I think of Peyton?... Well, she's a good person...

°Peyton: ¿Zero?... Hmmm... Un amigo.../Zero?... Hmmm... A friend...

*Peyton y/and Teagan*

→Peyton:

>Su Majestad merece algo mejor que una hija con poca educación como usted.../Her Majesty deserves better than a poorly educated Daughter like you...

>¿De verdad tengo que cuidarla también?... Que horrible.../Do I really have to take care of her too?... How horrible...

+Teagan: Tensión/Tenseness... 🚫

~~~~~~~~~~~

→Teagan:

<¿Una mujer siendo paladín? Que ridículo... Mamá está tan loca por dejarte serlo.../A Woman being a Paladin? How ridiculous... Mom is so crazy to let you be one...

<Realmente debes estar enferma, qué asqueroso.../You must really be sick, how disgusting...

+Peyton: Odio/Hate... ❌

---Pequeño Diálogo/Small Dialogue---

°Peyton: Mmmm... Insoportable.../Hmmm... Unbearable...

°Teagan: ¡¡¡No te atrevas a tocarme!!!.../Don't you dare touch me!!!...

*Teagan y/and "Catasto"*

→Teagan:

>Qué lindo, él es realmente un Príncipe... Y yo debo ser su Princesa.../So cute, he's really a Prince... And I must be his Princess...

>Muy educado, sé que él no ama a mi madre... Sé que sólo me ama a mí.../So polite, I know he doesn't love my Mother... I know he loves only me...

+"Catasto": Amor/Love... ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~

→"Catasto":

<Ella me dijo que su nombre es Brittany y Umbra me dijo que su nombre es en realidad Teagan, puedo jurar que estoy confundido.../She told me her name is Brittany and Umbra told me her name is really Teagan, I can swear I'm confused...

<No voy a negar que ella es, extraña... Ella es Hija de Umbra, no quiero pensar mal... Probablemente solo su forma de ser.../I'm not going to deny that she is, strange... She is Daughter of Umbra, I don't want to think badly... Probably just her way of being...

+Teagan: Tensión/Tenseness... 🚫

---Pequeño Diálogo/Small Dialogue---

°Teagan: ¡Mi príncipe!.../My prince!...

°"Catasto": Creo que debería huir muy lejos de ella.../I think I should run very far away from her...

-------

{2/?}

-------

Umbra, Nomula, "Catasto" y/and Zero: Son míos... {They are mine...}

Teagan {Brittany} y Peyton son de {Teagan {Brittany} and Peyton are from}: @askkassandragf-v-2

[istadris]

Despues de jugar paper Mario me quedo en la cabeza que

cuando king boo sale por tercera vez nota algo extraño en Luigi , Mario y peach ( su aura o esencia se siente más activa y la de Luigi se siente mezclada con algo oscuro pero a la vez neutral que no hace daño al hombre de verde) y en vez de atacarlos en el hotel va a hablar con los otros reyes boo y estos le dicen que durante su tiempo atrapado con e.gardds….un vacío apareció en el cielo y comenzó a destruir los reinos y misteriosamente Luigi,Mario,peach y bowser desaparecieron durante ese tiempo y cuando el vacío desaparece ellos regresan rodeando a Mario quien lleva a Luigi inconsciente y los otros dos están formando una barreras. Todos malheridos y silenciosos 

 Tiempo después de la nada  bowser  hace una tregua con el reino champiñon . La princesa es más amable con el y Mario y bowser se lleven algo bien pero todavía estarán en la garganta del otro pero lo más extraño es que esos 3 son muy protectores de Luigi y están siempre cerca de el cómo guardaespaldas durante un tiempo antes que se relajen después de unos meses.

Curioso king boo comienza a investigar esa aventura….quiero ver la reacción de king boo por su mano de trueno y que su nemesis sea el elegido del corazón del caos ( y tal vez Luigi todavía tenga el chaos heart en su interior y pueda llegar a aprovecharlo)

Envío a booigi en este au

Creo que bowser sería amigo de Luigi

*

So according to Google Translate, this is what I gather :

After playing paper Mario, it stuck in my head that when king boo comes out for the third time he notices something strange in Luigi, Mario and peach (his aura or essence feels more active and Luigi’s feels mixed with something dark but at the same time neutral that does not hurt the man in green) and instead of attacking them in the hotel he goes to talk to the other King boos and they tell him that during his time trapped with e.gardds….a void appeared in the sky and began to destroy the kingdoms and mysteriously Luigi, Mario, peach and bowser disappeared during that time and when the void disappears they come back surrounding Mario who carries Luigi unconscious and the other two are forming a barrier. All hurt and silent/

Time after nothing bowser makes a truce with the mushroom kingdom. The princess is nicer to him and Mario and bowser get along a bit but they will still be at each other’s throats but the strangest thing is that those 3 are very protective of Luigi and are always close to him as bodyguards for a while before he gets away. relax after a few months.

Curious king boo begins to investigate that adventure….I want to see king boo’s reaction to his hand of thunder and that his nemesis is the chosen one of the heart of chaos (and maybe Luigi still has the chaos heart inside and can get to take advantage of it) I send to booigi in this au I think bowser would be Luigi’s friend

*

I find this idea very interesting !!

Maybe at first King Boo would approach Luig with the intent of manipulating him; find his weakness and get a hold of the power of the Chaos Heart.

But because he’s King Boo, he’s not good at pretending to be nice, and yet at the same time...”nice” is not what Luigi is looking for, at the moment. He’s tired of being coddled, pitied, watched over; he doesn’t need being reminded of his role in the near destruction of the world, or that he might still be a ticking bomb. Even Bowser is tip-toeing around him and sometimes it makes Luigi want to scream and tear everything apart. So when King Boo starts haunting him again and cause trouble, Luigi is relieved of finally being able to go wild and break everything in sight without causing people to flinch. King Boo finds it amusing and starts following Luigi more and more, encouraging him to give into his more destructive behaviours. Playing the devil on his shoulder, whispering into his ear about what he could do if he wasn’t bound by these pesky morals.

Luigi let him do his speeches and whispers, partly because for once it gives him the choice : if he listens to King Boo, that’s on him for once, and not on some brainwashing by another person. If he doesn’t, that’s on him again. But also because sometimes King Boo is actually fun to hang around. And actually gives him explanations about auras and supernatural powers.

It’s a weird friendship sloooowly blossoming, and it worries Luigi’s friends, but they can see it helps him.

[by-speaker]

Rivales

Prompts por @raven-cincaide-words

Además, la canción "Good luck, babe!" de Chappel Roan

El sonido retumbante de los parlantes y los gritos de los fans, realmente lo emocionaba, la adrenalina corría por sus venas y la emoción lo hacía querer saltar en su lugar.

“¡Missa! ¡Missa!”, podía escucharlos corear desde su lugar tras el escenario, gritando su nombre, ansiosos por su presencia.

Vamos Missa, eres el mejor, se alentó un poco antes de poner su presencia en el escenario, “¡Buenas noches, Isla Quesadilla!”

Era la noche final de la competencia de canto que se celebraba en la isla principal, Missa era originario de Karmaland, una isla pequeña cerca de Quesadilla, de un pueblito llamado “Minecraft Extremo” esta era su posibilidad de triunfar.

“¿¡Están listos para la mejor noche de sus vidas?!” Gritó Missa.

La multitud se volvió loca. Missa amaba ese poder que tenía sobre la audiencia, como podía emocionarse tan fácilmente, pero sabía que esto no iba a ser fácil. Philza estaba también en la competencia, y a pesar de su menosprecio en público, sabía lo talentoso que era Philza.

Missa sonrío al escuchar el soundtrack de ‘Good luck, babe!’ Y sonrío a un más al ver a Philza parado en la audiencia, este era su oportunidad.

Con un gesto dramático, Missa se acercó al borde del escenario, sus ojos fijos en Philza. El público siguió su mirada, y un murmullo de anticipación recorrió la multitud. Todos conocían la historia entre ellos, el romance que había florecido y muerto tan públicamente.

“Esta canción,” anunció Missa, su voz cargada de emoción, “es para alguien especial. Alguien que solía conocerme mejor que nadie.”

Missa posó su mirada en Philza, el rubio se tensó, estaba seguro de que podía sentir la mirada de Kristin sorprendida a su lado, mirando a Missa como si acabara de resolver un rompecabezas.

Missa no iba a mentir, lo estaba disfrutando, lo estaba disfrutando mucho, se estaba revolviendo en la incomodidad de Philza, y no podía estar más feliz. Cuando llegó el puente, intencionalmente se acercó más a Philza, una sonrisa casi macabra en sus labios.

“When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night.” Dijo bajando a la platea, “With your head in your hands, she nothing more than your wife” Missa le dirigió su mirada a Kristin, “And when you think about me all of those years ago, You're standing face to face with "I told you so"” Missa estaba parado al frente de Philza, “You know I hate to say it, I told you so, You know I hate to say, but I told you so” le dijo en un susurro a Philza.

Philza apretó los labios, molesto, pero no podía encontrar las palabras para responder al que creía el amor de su vida. Su mente se arremolinaba entre el enojo, la humillación y algo más que no podía identificar, algo enterrado bajo capas de orgullo y resentimiento. Pero antes de que pudiera reaccionar, Kristin intervino.

“¿Esto no es solo por la competencia, verdad?” Le dijo, mirando como su mejor amigo casi con pena. “Es por él”

“No,” murmuro Philza, “no voy a permitir que él me humille, soy EL Philza Minecraft, un niñito de Karmaland no se va a burlar de mí”

Kristin frunció el ceño, reconociendo la determinación en la voz de su amigo. “Phil, no hagas nada precipitado. Recuerda por qué estamos aquí.”

Pero Philza parecía no escucharla. Con un movimiento repentino, se dio la vuelta y comenzó a abrirse paso entre la multitud, dirigiéndose hacia los bastidores.

“¿A dónde vas?” Preguntó Kristin, alzando la voz para hacerse oír sobre la música y los gritos del público.

“A preparar mi actuación,” respondió Philza sin volverse. “Es hora de recordarle a todos quién soy yo.”