#did the church take food off my plate? no

[quinnfabrayapologist]

I don't thing christians having things for a Seder is them stealing it from you I think they just planned ahead

I didn't say the Christians broke into my house and took food off my plate, but the fact the local church was planning for a Seder in the first place is literally them stealing the concept of a Seder from Jews, and it's made worse by the fact that this area is so heavily Christian-dominated is the reason Jews can't get stuff for Seder.

[8lyme]

Play it again ♬

Logan Howlett x reader (unmentioned gender)

♬ Play it again - Luke Bryan

SUMMARY - You've been listening to the radio all night long, and can't believe your song comes on when you're luckily alone with Logan.

a/n - chat ... please be gentle this is a self indulgent one shot based off the sickening obsession i have with this man. i need him biblically. Also, I'm imagining this to this song or Springsteen by Eric Church, but obviously use whatever song ur heart desires unedited ! And lowkey out of character but idc

At the start of summer, the students of the "gifted youngsters" program begged Charles to let them set the grounds up for a small party as a celebration for the end of the school year, despite nearly all of them being permanent X-mansion residents.

You excitedly volunteered to help, sitting in the kitchen concocting a dessert recipe as Scott mixed punch. Within a few hours, the yard was lit with string lights hanging from tree to tree. Fold-out tables with sheets as tablecloths held plates of food and drinks. Closer to the mansion, a large speaker blared music from the radio.

You listened to the music, half listening to the conversation Storm and Charles were having and half trying to hide your sideways glances at Logan, who was very attractively manning the grill. You might've heard a question directed at you but Logan's white t-shirt was tucked into his jeans. The cut of his sleeves stretched against his biceps, one hand on his belt and the other flipping hot dogs with tongs. You wanted him to turn so you could shamelessly stare at his ass in his jeans. You were no better than a man.

"Didn't you bake these cookies?" Charles said, catching your attention. You hoped that was the first time he asked that as you looked down to him.

"Oh, yeah, I did", you answer (hopefully as nonchalant as possible). "I hope they don't taste terrible."

"Please, you are the baker sent from heaven" Storm sighed, taking a bite of one of your cookies.

"I told you, my mutation literally causes the spirit of Martha Stuart to take over my body" you snort. "She's the little rat in my chef's hat".

You earned a chuckle from Charles, a yellow paper plate of some of your baked goods resting on his legs.

"If I truly ever felt the mind of Martha Stuart at this school, I would send us into lockdown" He joked back, but you had glanced at Logan again and your mind left the conversation.

He was smiling warmly as he handed plates of burgers and hot dogs to a few surrounding kids. He turned to the table behind him to open another pack of buns, and you silently thought 'thankyouthankyouthankyou' as you shamelessly stared at his ass.

With an enormous amount of willpower, you returned to the conversation ahead of you as Logan unfortunately turned back to the grill.

♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬

The lights dimly lit the courtyard under the darkening sky. You sat in the grass, legs outstretched and feet swaying to the radio still playing in the background. Hearing footsteps, you glanced behind you.

Logan was making his way towards you, beer in hand.

"Hey" he said, kneeling to sit beside you. He sighed as he turned to stretch his legs out before taking a long drink.

"Hey there, grillmaster" you smile, reaching to snag his beer.

"Headmasters orders" He groaned as you sipped his cold drink.

"Whatever Logan, you had a smile on your face the whole time"

"I think you were a little busy staring at my ass to notice my face" He teased and snatched his beer from you, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Don't even flatter yourself" you said, turning away and hoping he didn't notice the blood rushing to your cheeks. "I was admiring your grilling capabilities".

He let out a quiet laugh as your face became even hotter.

"Only my grilling capabilities?" He said, and you felt him leaning closer to you. "Nothing else?"

You tried to ignore him despite goosebumps making their way up your arms. He taps your arm with his beer, trying to get you to look at him.

"You think you're hot shit, huh?" you say as a deterrent.

"And you don't?" he flirts, knocking you with the cold bottle in his hand again. You roll your eyes, deciding between groaning out 'Whatever, Logan', 'Spare me', or 'Fuck off'.

Before you even open your mouth, the radio catches your attention. You take a second to recognize the beginning of the song before gasping loudly.

"Oh my god, this is my song!" you light up, whipping around to face Logan and grabbing his shoulder. "The radio's been on all night, I can't believe it's playing!"

You scramble up to a crouch and grab at Logan's arms.

"Come here, Logan, I wanna dance!"

Before he can say a word, you yank on his wrists and pull him off the grass. Your song hums from the speakers as you pull him to spin to the beat. Logan rolls his eyes at you, but he can't ignore the smile that's on your face. You're holding each others' fingers, and he lets you push and pull at opposite arms.

You can't help but sing along, turning from side to side with the lyrics. A grin forms on Logan's face, and he decides to pull you closer and put his hand on the small of your back. You're too enthralled in the music to feel embarrassed, and you push your leg up to force Logan to dip you.

You pull away from him and spin yourself under his arm. You're jumping and swaying to the beat, unaware that Logan is enjoying himself enough to dance along as little as he can get away with.

At every chorus, you lift your hand in a fake microphone and sing into it. Logan sings along too, but quietly enough that you don't notice.

The last few notes of the song play out, and you slow to a stop and catch your breath. You look up at Logan, surprised to find him with an enjoyable look on his face. Your hands are still connected when you straighten up to say "Sorry, I just haven't heard that in while".

You start to let go of his hands, but his fingers tighten around yours. He's looking right into your eyes, the normal furrow in his brows gone and his features softened.

"Don't apologize" he says gently.

"Okay" you respond in whisper. His gaze is unwavering.

You blink with your heart thrumming in your chest. You can't tell if hours or only seconds have passed while you've been looking up at him. You're afraid to look away and ruin the moment, but you unintentionally glance down at his lips and notice that he's smiling.

With a newfound burst of confidence, you pull your hands from his to grab at his jawline. You tug him down and kiss him. Before you can pull back, his hands grip your back. He pulls you closer from his hand between your shoulder blades and other on the curve of your spine. He sighs into you before you pull away, and you meet each other's gaze once again.

"I hope they play that song again" Logan says to you after a beat. You can't fight your smile before you say "Me too".

He brings your face to his and whispers "You spilled my beer, asshole" before kissing you deeply. You push him away, smiling.

"Go get another one, I'll figure out how to play that song again"

[gucciwins]

harry brings his girlfriend home to meet his family but it does not go as planned

word count: 5896

a/n: enjoy this story inspired by a lovely anon. happy reading, my sweet friends 💜

+

Y/N was nervous. 

She squeezed Harry’s hand, trying to ground herself, but it seemed to transport her to the first time they met at the diner down the street from her apartment. 

Going to university in Los Angeles wasn’t glamorous, not when she had endless bills to pay to keep a roof over her head. She had gone to Martha’s Cakes, a small diner ten minutes from her apartment that served the best hot chocolate. The food was good too but the hot chocolate is what she ordered each visit without fail. It’s a place she’d eat when Y/N had a bit of extra to spend on herself. Instead of buying herself new shoes, or another jelly cat bag charm (Otto, the sausage dog, went everywhere with her) she decided on eating a good meal that didn’t consist of ramen or buttered noodles. She came here when she needed a pick me up or simply wanted to have a nice conversation. It was a late Tuesday in the Spring. Where the sun took longer to come down, allowing her extra time at the bar to do assignments and chat with Antonio about the best produce sales. Y/N had her head down working on an essay due two weeks from now. It was based on one of Los Angeles buildings; it could be based on the oldest church to the Dodger Stadium. Y/N decided on the Avila Adobe residence. Known as the oldest standing residence in the City of Los Angeles. Olvera St. was a famous street and was filled with history. It was one of her favorite places to walk through. 

As she was looking through photos, taking notes of significant dates, a patron sat next to her. Y/N didn’t bother seeing who it was, simply scooting her scattered papers closer to her, tucking a few under her laptop. 

“It’s not bothering me.” A man spoke. 

It startled Y/N only because he had a deep British voice. It felt odd to be hearing in such an unknown area. 

“Darla would throw coffee on it if she saw I was bothering a customer.” 

“I said it’s okay.” 

Y/N laughs. “She would say it wasn’t.” 

It seems the man lets it drop as he has nothing to reply. Y/N keeps up with updating her notes as she hears the man order a stack of the lemon poppy pancakes. Those were her favorite, Y/N would get them when she was having a bad day because it would without a fail make her smile. Y/N worked in silence over the next half hour when she felt the need to step to the restroom. Y/N did not want to pack up. Usually she asks a staff member to watch her items, but the diner seemed to be a bit busier. She looked around and her eyes landed on the pancake guy who had his headphones on. She hated bothering people, but he looked kind enough. 

Y/N tapped next to his plate to get his attention. It worked because in seconds he slipped off his headphones and had turned his whole body to look at her. It gave her the chance to look at him fully for the first time. He had a buzz cut, and it looked really good. He had slight stubble, but what captured her attention were his bright jade eyes. It felt like he was staring deep into her soul.

“Do–uh–Would you please watch my stuff? I have to use the ladies’ room.”

“Course. Guard it with my life.” 

Y/N thanked him and hurried away. When she came back, the man had slightly shifted over, his eyes staring intently at the dark screen of her laptop. 

“Thank you,” she shot him a smile. Waking up her screen and getting back to her assignment, except she couldn’t get the man out of her head. 

The dimples were something she focused on when he smiled, telling her it was no problem. Then his green eyes were so beautiful she felt she had seen them before. Though she could swear she had never met him before. She did have a weird feeling she had seen him before. Once it hit eight o’clock, Y/N knew it was time to call it. Y/N had her rough draft ready and could continue tomorrow. For now, she’d walk home and take a bath to wash away today’s day. 

Y/N was packing up and could see the green-eyed gentleman was too. She would hate herself if she didn’t ask him where she knew him from, if she knew him. Y/N had her bag strapped on her shoulder and turned to him for the last time. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He turned, as if he was waiting to hear from her. “Yes?” 

“How do I know you?” 

The man’s smile dropped. He looked confused, so she didn’t know him. 

“Don’t think we’ve met, until today, Y/N.”

Y/N’s frown deepens. “I didn’t tell you my name.”

He pointed to her bag. She looks down at the red stitching displaying her name. Well, now she looked dumb. Of course, he could read. “You look familiar to me. Sorry if that’s weird.”

The guy clears his throat, shaking his head. “I get that a lot.” 

That’s odd, Y/N thought. 

“I feel like I know you,” she tried one last time. 

“Promise we don’t know each other. I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped (not literally), but her face felt warm. Fuck, she was not expecting this turn of event. “Ha, uh. I want to say me too, but uh, there’s something familiar about you.” 

Harry chuckles as if he knows something she doesn’t. 

“Can I walk you out?” He asks. 

She nods. He leaves a large tip and follows her to the exit. Y/N ways to Sonia, who shoots her thumbs up, but Y/N has no idea why. Y/N and the man linger outside the door, waiting to see who makes the first move. 

“Well, uh, can I have your Instagram?” Y/N asks, not knowing if asking for his number was too forward. At least this way she could stalk him for a bit. 

“Oh, I don’t use that. I can give you my number,” he counters. 

Y/N perks up. “That works.” She hands him her phone where she watches his hands type in his phone number into her contacts. He hands her back her phone, and she looks at the newly added contact. 

Harry S. 

It seemed that’s all she needed for her to connect the dots. She lifts her head up and Harry has a flushed face. He didn’t look away from her, almost waiting to see what she’d say. 

Y/N not sure how to break the silence. “Harry Sanchez?” 

Harry laughs, and it’s all the confirmation Y/N needs. “More like Styles.” 

“Oh.” 

Did she fuck up her chances? She feels like she didn’t. She got his number. 

“What can I use your number for?” She asks, wanting to double check. He still wants her to have it.

“Hopefully for us to plan a date.” 

“Even after this,” she points between them as if to explain what they know just happened. 

“I’d like to see where it could go.” 

“Shit, uh. Well–I’m free Thursday.” Harry smirks, making her want to crawl in a hole because now she feels desperate. “I’m going to leave.”

Harry stops her by grabbing her hand. “I think Thursday is perfect. Are you up for a sunset dinner by the beach?” 

“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. 

“Good. Thursday it is.”

Now she is standing in front of his childhood home, about to meet his mother and older sister. Y/N had spoken to his mother, Anne, on the phone a few times, but his sister was always busy when Harry tried to pass her the phone. Harry promised her it would go well, but she feared the worst. Their story was genuine but to others could sound fabricated but come on, no one knows Martha’s cakes, it’s not even on Yelp. It’s a place once stumbled upon and then shares the magic with people in their life. 

Harry said he felt like coffee and walked for a while until he saw people walk out. The smell of coffee is what drew him in, but the pretty girl he sat next to had him stay for hours. It’s something he shared months down the line. Y/N and Harry had now been together for nine months. Because of her Master’s Y/N had no time to travel. Harry visited home often, but Y/N couldn’t drop everything she was doing to go with him. He understood, but she felt his family wouldn’t. Harry met her dad and twin brothers six months into dating because they lived down in San Diego, only a two-hour drive from them. While Harry’s family lived an ocean away and she refused for him to pay for her flight to London. On top of that, she had classes and exams to worry about that did not allow her to hop on a flight for a week. Thankfully, she made it through the winter semester and had a few weeks off from her internship before going back for her last semester. Y/N knew graduation was just around the corner, and thankfully, had little debt to pay off.

Harry held her tight as he led her up the steps. Y/N was walking slower, trying to prolong the introduction. In her mind, she hoped she was simply psyching herself out and that things actually went well with Harry’s family. That they accepted her because they could see how much she loved him. 

“You ready, Lovie?” Harry flashed her a dimpled grin.

Truthfully, she wanted to say no, but Y/N couldn’t do that to him. Not when he was bouncing with excitement. “Ready.” She confirmed. 

Harry gave two loud knocks and then opened the front door. Y/N stood behind him as he rushed to embrace his mother. Anne was a sweet woman, much shorter than Harry, but by the tight embrace she held Harry, Y/N could tell she was strong. 

Anne gave Harry two big kisses, one on each cheek, before turning her attention to Y/N. 

“Y/N!” Anne cheered. She said it with so much delight, it surprised Y/N. 

In a matter of seconds, someone tightly wrapped Y/N in a hug, which she quickly reciprocated. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Twist.” 

Anne waved her off. “Call me Anne, my dear.” 

“Anne,” Y/N repeated.

“Now come in and tell me all about the trip. Did he trick you into going to that fancy lounge where you get free food?” Y/N giggled because Harry indeed took her to a fancy lounge when he said he was taking her to get a smoothie. 

Y/N spared a smile at Harry, but it was quick to fall when Y/N met another pair of eyes in the kitchen, looking at her with an intense stare. It dropped quickly because her attention shifted to Harry. Y/N focused back on Anne, trying to brush off the moment as something she imagined. 

Y/N tried her best to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. There was no need to worry. Harry talked about wonderful things about his family. She was in safe hands. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

+

Y/N didn’t feel welcome. Anne was a gem, but Gemma was cold and looked bored whenever Y/N said a word. Y/N wondered if Harry picked up on it. He hadn’t said a word. Harry was home and had no time to deal with Y/N’s insecurities. She had to be reading into Gemma, not liking her. Harry spoke the world of his older sister. He said she was his best friend, someone whose opinion he valued. Fear struck her. If Gemma didn’t like her after this visit, she knew that as soon as she got on that plane to go home, Harry would be breaking up with her. At least she’d had several hours to cry about on the plane pathetically.  

“There’s no way she didn’t know who you were,” Gemma scoffed, unbelieving of their story. 

Harry brushed off her comment as if she said nothing. “Gem, I was bald.” 

“Your face didn’t change.”

Harry sighs, “no, but you did a double take when I showed up to your doorstep to show you.” 

Gemma frowns, knowing he was right. “Whatever, you were all over twitter.” 

Harry is beginning to pick up on his sister’s defense and knows to drop it but will be picking it up with her later. “Anyway. Sitting next to each other, she asked me to watch her stuff when she had to use the restroom.”

“To look you up,” Gemma coughs.

Y/N fidgets in her chair, wanting to be anywhere but here. Harry continues with his story. “She thanked me and went back to her work. Before she left, Y/N asked if we knew each other, but I told her we didn’t. I wouldn’t forget someone as beautiful as her.” 

“Charming,” Anne gloats. “My charming boy.” 

Harry finished the story, stating it was meant to be. He had loved spending the time in Los Angeles getting to see the city through Y/N’s eyes. It’s a city she’s been living in for a couple of years. There was a lot for her to share with him. Harry had taken a liking to her favorite coffee shop. It had a design resembling a greenhouse and filled with plants, mainly featuring dried lavender. Truthfully, he spent a lot of time there because it was Y/N’s preferred place to study because it never got busy. Y/N called it her hidden gem. 

“I’ve never been happier,” Harry shares. Y/N beams at his words but can’t help glancing at Gemma, who can’t help but look sick to her stomach at hearing this news.

Dinner passed dreadfully slowly. Y/N comments when she needs to but honestly hopes to disappear for the night soon, no longer wanting to burden Gemma with her presence. While Anne showed Y/N where she could freshen up, Harry stayed downstairs to share a nightcap with his sister. 

Anne comes back to join them, but Gemma bites her tongue until their mother bids them goodnight. Harry gives his mother a tight embrace, commenting on how much he missed her. Gemma was happy her younger brother was home. 

“Are you happy, Harry?” Gemma breaks the silence that had fallen between them.

Harry sighs, “never been happier.” 

Gemma frowns, because she believes him. “I-I-nevermind.” 

Harry frowns because Gemma is never someone to stop herself from saying what’s on her mind. “Hey,” he places his hand on top of hers. “It’s me. Your annoying younger brother, you can tell me anything.” 

She removes her hand from under his and places them on her lap. “I don’t think she’s right for you.”

Harry sits back, surprised. “Sorry?”

“It’s clear she’s after something.” 

He’s having a hard time believing his sister. “Like what?”

“Your money.” 

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asks, baffled. 

“No. That’s why I’m telling you. She’s after one thing.” 

“How would you know?”

“Come on,” Gemma scoffs. “She goes to a prestigious school with a cost that no one could afford. It’s clear she wants you to pay for it.” 

“Gemma, I met her during her last year.”

“Debt doesn’t go away overnight,” she fights back. “She’ll get you to pay off her loans and leave you.”

Harry’s anger is overwhelming him. 

“You don’t even know her. Yet you say bad things about her.” It shuts Gemma up, and he uses that to his advantage and walks away.

“We saw the donation you made,” Gemma comments before he can make it up the stairs. 

He turns back, trying his best to swallow down his anger. “If you would have asked me, you would know it’s for the music program. I did that for several universities if you would have taken the time to do a bit more research. It grants them a scholarship, plus pays for room and board.” 

Gemma has no response. Harry is now standing in front of her and Gemma is nervous. She had never seen her brother this upset. 

“What I do with my money is my problem. If she wanted me to send her money for a new car, I would. If she wanted me to buy her a piece of land, I would do it in a blink of an eye. If Y/N asked me to give her every last dime in my account, I would do it without a second thought because I love her. I love her and she loves me. You know, five minutes is not enough to judge her. I do not have to tell you of her financial issues, but I will so you can go home tonight and sleep knowing how upset I am with you. Y/N received the presidential scholarship covering her tuition for the three years she was there. Y/N has applied to hundreds of scholarships to cover her book fees, and has to take on an unpaid internship while working 40 hours a week to cover her rent. Y/N has not accepted a single dime from me for her school because she has gotten this far without me. Y/N only lets me pay for her seven dollar coffee every other day. Y/N would rather give every last dollar to me if I needed it instead of keeping it for herself. Y/N still sends money to her twin brothers for new shoes, or new backpacks, because she loves her family.” 

Harry is near tears but keeps going. “I love Y/N. You might not, maybe you never will, but that girl has been the best thing to happen to me. I’ve never been more cared for and loved since she entered my life. So please, don’t bother coming back tomorrow or the rest of the week unless you have an apology for her.”

Y/N is grateful Harry’s room connects to the bathroom because, while she finished getting ready, she thought she would ask Harry for a cup of water and instead stumbled upon a conversation she shouldn’t have. Y/N tries her best to swallow her tears, but it’s no use. They’re more powerful than her. They stream down and Y/N decides to lie in bed, hoping by the time Harry comes in, she’s fast asleep. Y/N isn’t sure how much time has passed, but her tears have dried up and she’s as still as a rock when she hears Harry come in. She wants to tell him that she’s not worth defending if it means he’s messing up his relationship with his sister.

She hears him get ready for bed. Y/N knows he’s folding his clothes and placing them on the chair. He’s meticulous about his night-time routine. He crawls into bed next to her. Y/N tries her best to steal her breathing to make it seem like she’s sleeping, but Harry knows her too well. He scoots right behind her, his hand sliding over her hips and settling on her stomach, right by the scar she got on her eight birthday when she fell off her bike. Harry rubs the lifted skin, where she got four stitches. 

Y/N lets out a deep breath, working up the courage to say something, but her throat is closed. She relaxes against him. All her tears dried up. She is beginning to feel better now that she’s with him. A kiss to her temple has her heart slowing down. This is what it is to be protected. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N croaks out when she feels like enough time has passed. 

Harry pulls her tight against him. It fills her with ease. “How much did you hear?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I don’t want you to argue with your family.” 

“It’s only my sister,” he defends.

“She’s an important person in your life. You’ve always specified that.” 

Harry sighs. He leaves a kiss behind Y/N’s ear. “You are important to me, too.”

“You don’t need to be fighting. It’s not necessary.” 

“It is when she needs a wack to her head.” 

“Harry,” Y/N drags out. “I don’t want you burning bridges.”

Harry understood where she was coming from, but Y/N was not seeing how it affected him as well. “We’ll be fine. She’s my sister. We’ll talk in a few days. All this will be in the past.”

Y/N freezes, feeling as if someone dropped a cold bucket of water on her. If Harry believes everything will be alright with his sister, that means he sees himself forgiving her for what she said but also means he would be getting rid of the problem. Her. 

Harry was going to be breaking up with her. This started her tears to fall again, only this time she couldn’t keep quiet. They were pouring out of her at a quick rate. He was quick to sit up bringing Y/N with him.

“Hey, hey,” Harry cooed. “What happened? What did I do?”

“Y-y-you,” she stuttered. Nothing was coming out. 

He would not rush her. Instead, he shifted her to straddle his lap. Y/N tucked her head into his neck. Hary felt his neck dampen with tears. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering “I love you,” hoping it would be enough to calm her. He snaked a hand under her night shirt softly running his nails up and down her back. Y/N curled in closer at the action. His sweet girl was feeling overwhelmed, and he felt awful because he wasn’t being helpful. 

Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. Harry still thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her hands moved from her side up to his neck, she settled them on his cheek. She caressed his face, calming him down. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was, but it’s clear Y/N could see what he needed even in her moments of sadness. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Y/N voiced. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry frowned. No one had said anything about him leaving. He would never dream of walking away from her. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“But Gemma–”

He cuts her off. “Gemma doesn’t know you like I do. She is looking out for me and I know she meant no harm, but she went about all this wrong. She decided to judge us, judge you before getting to know you.”

Y/N did no wrong. She was nothing Gemma accused her of. Y/N knew that, of course she did, but Y/N hoped to impress his family, not make them upset. 

“I know you, Lovie. My mum knows you. Mostly, you know yourself. Your character speaks for you and it has never been anything but kind and loving.”

Harry’s words slowly begin to mend her heart.

“I love you, Harry.” 

He connects his lips with hers in a loving kiss. “I love you so much.” 

Y/N falls asleep to Harry’s voice as he sings her to sleep. It’s a lullaby he says his mum would sing when he had a nightmare. While Y/N didn’t know how tomorrow would go, she was happy to have Harry at her side.

+

The morning passed slowly between the three of them. They shared stories with Anne, Harry, catching her up on his upcoming plans. Y/N talked about her looming graduation and told Anne about her thesis project. Anne promised to make the trip for her graduation, something Harry couldn’t stop gloating about how she was top of her class on her way to graduate summa cum laude. Y/N had stepped outside wanting to enjoy all the open land Anne had. The cats happily roamed around Y/N as she settled in the grass. Y/N thought of her dad at home and what he’d have to say about the situation. He’d probably tell her to run while she could, but Y/N knew Harry was her person. Y/N laid down, closed her eyes and took in all the surrounding noise. She heard birds chirping, a purring in the distance and the rush of the wind hitting the wind chimes. It was perfect. 

There was a loud band that had Y/N sitting up in a hurry. She looked back and realized it was the back door. Anne had stepped out, Y/N could see Harry in the kitchen, hands moving rapidly, and she knew he wasn’t alone. Anne sat not to Y/N, neither of them saying a word. 

“My daughter owes you an apology.” 

“Anne–” 

She stops Y/N. “No, I raised her better than that. I’m not sure when she got so protective, but it’s clearly not for the best. Harry is nearing 30 he doesn’t need his sister looking out for him. While I’m glad they have each other, this was unnecessary. It caused a lot of hurt that should have never existed.” 

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to talk to her if you’re not comfortable.”

Y/N didn’t know how to feel. She dreaded talking to Gemma, but Y/N knew she’d feel worse if she went home and never talked this out with her. “I’m willing. I-I might need time to forgive her.” 

Anne squeezed Y/N’s hand. “That’s perfectly alright. Now tell me about these brothers of yours.” 

Y/N spent the rest of the evening with Anne, forgetting about her problems. It isn’t until Harry called them both in for dinner that they realized they spent hours outside. 

Harry greeted her with a kiss.

Dinner went off without a hitch, the three of them sharing all kinds of stories. Mostly Harry interrupting Anne to tell her a new story about Y/N he remembered. Harry that night promised he was alright with Gemma. He was feeling hurt. Assured her he loved her, but needed time to move past it. 

Y/N woke up early the next morning and decided to go on a walk along the river. Harry told her it felt never ending. They had walked it once every day, but today she went alone, letting Harry sleep in but also have that extra time with Anne. As Y/N walked, she thought of her brothers and how they would love to be throwing rocks in the river. Y/N was sure one of them would even fall in on accident. The weather would pique her dad’s interest. He was a sunshine man. She was sure the gloomy weather would be too much for him to handle. 

Two hours later, Y/N came back and was taken aback by Gemma’s presence on the front steps of the house, holding a thermal mug. 

“Hi,” Y/N greeted. 

“Morning, nice walk?” Gemma asked. 

Small talk. It was safe. “Mhm, Harry showed me the trail he liked to walk on.” 

“Mmm…coffee?” Gemma offered.

“Uh, I’m okay,” Y/N rejected.

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

Gemma looked dejected, but continued on. “Do-Is it okay if we talk?”

Y/N nodded. “Sure.” 

Y/N approached Gemma sitting on the opposite end of the same step. She wouldn’t be the first to talk, but it looked like Gemma was figuring out her words. 

“I’m sorry” are Gemma’s first words. “I’m sorry talking about you behind your back, even more sorry that you overheard.” Gemma looks sincere, and Y/N nods for her to continue. “I love Harry. He’s the best brother, and a person in general. He cares so much that I fear he’s gotten screwed over so much in life because he trusts with his heart and not his head.”

Y/N frowns, because that’s one of the things she loves most about Harry. How welcoming he is with his kind nature and how much love he spreads every day whether it’s through his music or holding the door open for a stranger. It all adds up to show that he’s a person full of love.

“Those are his mistakes to make. His own hurt to go through. Life isn’t all sunshine.” Y/N tells her. 

Gemma sighs heavily. “I know. Sometimes I feel like he’s still the same kid who cried when I would go out without him.”

“That hasn’t been him for a long time.” 

“I know.”

It’s clear Gemma has something deeper than she has to figure out and talk with Harry about, but it seems that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she is ready. 

“I love Harry. I think we have a wonderful relationship.” Y/N knows Gemma might not want to hear this, but it is important he does. “Harry loves communication. I swear we’ve never had an argument that didn’t end in us making up. He gives me my space but makes sure to be near. I’m reminded of his love every second of every day, whether he’s with me or not. I’m not sure if I make him feel loved every minute, but I do my best to remind him in my actions and words. I’m big on writing notes. He’s received a few love letters. I’m sure he’d show you if you asked.” Gemma tries her best to hide her surprise, but it’s written all over her face. “I’ve only heard wonderful stories about you, Gemma. I’m sure they’re all true, but I know Harry thought we might become friends.” Y/N pauses. “Even if that doesn’t happen, I do want you to know I respect you. For however long I’m around, I know that I respect you, even if it might take some time for me to trust you.” 

Gemma has tears running down her face. “I’m sorry. I never provided you with an opportunity. I’m not sure why I didn’t. I am really sorry. Meeting the family is always hard, and I fucking ruined it.” 

“It’s not okay, but we’ll give it time. Time heals.” 

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Gemma tells her gratefully. 

Y/N smiles. “Are you joining us for breakfast? Harry promised to make lemon ricotta pancakes.” 

“I’d like that. I’ll head in soon. I want to finish my coffee.” 

Y/N heads inside, where she finds Harry at the stove wearing an apron. She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. 

“Morning, pretty girl.” 

“Hi, Harry. I love you.” 

Y/N knows he’s grinning. “I love you too. Even if you left me alone this morning.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she defends. “You always told me a morning walk here cleared your head.” 

“And did it?” 

“Mmm…like magic.” 

“Are you okay, Lovie?” Harry turns off the stove. He turns around, setting his hands on Y/N’s waist. His hair makes her laugh as she sees it sticking in different directions. 

“We talked. She apologized. Promise I’m okay. It still hurts, but I’ll try my best to forgive her for you.” 

Harry tuts his tongue. “No, honey.” Y/N tilts her head, confused. “You don’t have to do this for me.” 

“But she’s your–”

“She’s my sister, but that doesn’t mean you have to change how you feel about me. I promise I am with you. She made a mistake, and I’ll forgive her but at my own time. You take your time as well.”

Y/N feels overwhelmed all over again because she really did get lucky with Harry. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, my love. So much more.” 

Harry gives her a kiss. A promise that everything will be alright.

+

thank you for reading my beautiful friends! let me know your favorite parts

[rassvetsky]

would literally lose my fucking mind if you wrote carmy like touch starved, idk maybe everyone is staying after to celebrate something and he’s dragging you into his office to eat you out with absolutely zero shame because he needs it so bad

your wish is my lifelong quest i love you, hope i did it at least some justice loml

Carry You Away With Me

carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

[4k] | chef ill be honest with you this is just porn, needy!carmy (he's fucking adorable), office sex if that's even a term, established relationship, cunningulus, unprotected sex, cum-play. my apologies to the church

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

It was around 11 when you returned to the restaurant with a bottle of champagne cradled in your arms, watching as Gary and Tina pushed a few tables together to make a bigger one for the rest. Eating together wasn't a rare occurrence, but it often only happened an hour before service in the morning— dinners were mostly had at home or skipped altogether, depending on the importance one put into their health. But tonight called for an after-hours get-together, one that Sydney and Marcus pushed for when Ebraheim showed up in the morning with the latest issue of Gastronomica, featuring a very familiar name this time around— Carmen Berzatto.

"You know— I bet you can like, make it to a Vogue issue sometime later on, too."

"That's not exactly food-related."

"I'm just saying, dream high and—"

The few clinks of a spoon against the glass cut Fak right off and Carmen made a mental note to thank god for that later on, his gaze lifting from the long, full table that everyone was surrounding to the source of the sound; the now-empty champagne glass that Richie held.

"Can we all take a moment to stop stuffing our faces with this whatever-the-fuck it is to congratulate my cousin right here?" he spoke up, bringing a smile to your lips as you reached for Carmen's hand from under the table and muttered out "chou à la crème", another dish that Marcus had been experimenting with lately. A short chuckle left Carmen's lips when he vaguely heard what you said, and he gave your hand a firm, appreciative squeeze before rubbing his thumb along the back of your palm. "Gastronomica isn't just any magazine. I think it's supposed to be one of the good ones, like—"

"—the Vogue of food!"

"Maybe! Who knows, anyway— really, I'm proud of this mess of a man and you all should be, too." and maybe this was the most affection that Richie could whip out in public, but it was more than enough— because despite his hate for having the spotlight directly on him, Carmen was currently busy offering a smile to Richie, which the other reciprocated shortly before sitting back down, his quiet little hum of affection drowned out by the mutterings of 'cheers' along with the clink of everyone's glasses.

Proud was an understatement for this little dysfunctional found-family.

But you knew Carmen, you knew that he'd much rather skip on the compliments and pats to the shoulder; and you were way too sure that he'd need a moment to himself sooner or later. That moment came almost fifteen minutes after, when everyone split themselves into a few groups of completely different conversations, scooped up chocolate sauce and cream and small pieces of the delicate pastry got left behind on the empty plates— you felt Carmy's fingers wrapping around your upper thigh, concealed by the dimmed out lights and the table.

"S'up?" you returned your attention to him upon feeling his fingers tapping along to some nonexistent rhythm on your clothed skin, not too invested in the story Richie was busy telling everybody with the loudest voice he could muster to begin with.

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

"Elsewhere?"

"Not too far, jus' my office. For a couple of minutes at most." he leaned in closer to your ear just so you could hear him over the 2012's pop playlist Manny whipped out earlier, a completely mesmerizing turn of events when he started singing along to a random Katy Perry song— but that leaning closer action proved Carmen to be just another self-saboteur because he was feeling specifically out of place all day and to feel your perfume so close was a pull with a force out of this world. He couldn't pull back away then, couldn't return to his own chair and you had no choice but to push him away manually. "I promise."

"Any ulterior motives I should be aware of?" you grinned, letting your fingers curl right over his own on your thigh— and making a mental note to ease him into the habit of using hand moisturizers regularly sometime, upon the roughed up feel of his skin.

"You wound me, baby." his expression seemed to linger over offense, but his eyes told a completely different story; and before you knew it, he was pushing his chair back to get up, patting Gary's shoulder on his way to the back of house, a momentary turn of his head just so he could silently tell you to follow with his eyes.

And that, you did, despite the raised eyebrows of Richie's that you met along the way.

The kitchen smelled like a different kind of citrus, one that only belonged in dishwashing detergents as you maneuvered through the stations, cleaned up from the day's worth of filth. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Carmen reaching behind to undo the strings of his navy apron, leaving out the top string that he'd have to pull over his head until you could catch up and he could get to the office. His shirt was, again, as pristine as ever and it was a work of magic how he managed to come back home with a perfectly clean white t-shirt each day, if not for a few little drops here and there.

Finally, he pushed open the door of his office for you and you stepped in, finding your way to his desk in the darkness to flip the switch of the small light that illuminated the paperwork mostly. When your eyes found him again, the apron was long gone— tucked away in a corner, folded, although not so neatly. "Happy now?"

Instead of a reply, he just plopped down on the old, squeaky chair by the desk, thighs spread and arms wide open to make space for you. You took the offer right away, seating yourself on one of his thighs but still balancing yourself on your feet too, in order to not just dump your whole body weight on him and potentially numb out his leg. He couldn't care less, as he wrapped himself around you tightly and pulled you closer. "I don't really give a shit about Gastronomica."

"I figured," you mumbled against the material of his shirt, lungs filling in with a scent that only he could carry— a surprisingly pleasant mix of cigarettes, sweat, and gravy. It belonged to him, at least. "When's the last time you gave a shit about anyone's opinion outside of here, anyway?"

A soft hum left his lips, one that feigned agreement— but he wasn't paying much attention to what you've been saying to begin with, mind all muddied with specific moments in time that included you. Come to think of it, he'd been like this all day, even when Richie jokingly smacked him across the face with the magazine or when Tina elbowed him while he was trying to explain why she had to strain the mixture twice to get a flowing consistency— on the back of his mind, there was always you; always the lack of time he got to spend with you when the rush hour got too much to bear and he couldn't bring himself to lift an arm when he came back home to you.

When was the last time he properly touched you, took his time to memorize all the little ridges and beauty spots across your body, he couldn't remember.

So as you spoke, listing out all the reasons why he should be proud of himself for all the accomplishments, Carmen's arm curled around your waist and his fingers found your thighs again, the warmth of his palm seeping through the material of your leggings and from the way they teased upwards, you knew where this was going. "... that you managed to turn— are you not listening?"

His smile was so smug that you wanted to either kiss, or slap him. "Not really. But go on."

"Carmy, if you actually think that I'll do anything non-churchy with you here while everyone's literally twenty feet away, you're so wrong." you breathed out, because that's all you could do when his lips ghosted over the side of yours, before trailing down to where your jawline met your neck. He only hummed as a reply, clearly not giving a shit about your opinion either at that moment— but to say that you weren't enjoying the attention would be a blatant lie.

His fingertips traced the seams outlining your underwear through the extra layer of fabric while his lips latched to your neck, finally, with his warm breath hitting against the sensitive skin and the usual wet nature of his kisses leaving behind a glistening spot of adoration. You leaned into it, rather shamelessly— legs parting and fingers carding through the locks on the nape of his neck, and that only encouraged him further, causing him to whisper out a curse and a few sloppy words of praise. "Just let me, hm? Please?"

The sense of desperation in his tone was enough to push back any words of disagreement that you could blurt out at that moment. You knew you had to power through, it would be so embarrassing and disrespectful to let him have his way with you right here, while everyone else was still at the FOH— but the way his palm covered your clothed core and his fingertips teased the slight outline of your slit, all while his pretty lips were oh so busy whispering absolute filth in your ear was slowly taking away all the care you had in the world. "Carm— not a good idea."

"You weren't saying that last week, right here," two weeks ago, to be exact, but you couldn't blame him for not being able to tell time apart. "Had to cover your mouth and all, s'loud for me—"

"You're getting carried away." you chuckled, the deepest of breaths still not enough for the capacity of your lungs as you tugged on his locks slightly, prying him off of your skin just so you could get a look at him.

"Let me carry you away with me. Please, fuck— I can't think of anything else when you're on my mind." he pulled away a little from your neck, eyes of pristine skies staring right at your soul with the expression of a kicked puppy— he knew exactly how to get his way when he was miserable like that. His fingers were still against your heat, expecting permission. "Ten minutes only, just let me touch you."

You could recognize that tone, that incurability way too well— it was often reserved for nights shared between hushed whispers of promises, where he was too needy to form a single thought and all he could do was to cover your body with his and curl onto you, to feel your warmth against himself and to be one body and one soul for an hour. Uncommon in nature, even rarer to take place in a room that he reserved for professional affairs only— but the heart wants what it wants.

To his surprise, you suddenly pushed your lips against his— letting his fever take over you as well, with your hands clutching onto his shoulders and hair. You could hear the slight groan escaping his lips when his fingers breached under the tight waistband of your leggings, pushing the material down slightly with the bend of his wrist before turning his hand a little to tug it all downwards, urging you up on your feet. You got up from where you were seated, now standing between his legs with your back bent just so your lips would be on his, but he broke the kiss with a smile that took over when he finally pulled down both articles of clothing at the same time. Your back straightened when he managed to push them both down to your ankles, your hands on his shoulders to help with your balance as you stepped out of them, feeling his moist lips over your abdomen for a second before he pushed you backwards slightly, towards the desk.

He took that momentary advantage to get up on his feet and pin you right in between his own body and the desk, hands blindly pushing the loose folders to the side. You felt too exposed when his palms gripped the underside of your thighs just to prop you up on the desk, lips finding and panting against yours, a clear indication of his need seeping through the way he tugged and nibbled before his tongue found its way to caress yours.

There was nothing nice about it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care— not when he whispered your name against the plush of your lips so sweetly when your fist closed around his hair, not when he didn't even know what to do with his hands; grabbing, fondling at every inch of your skin that he could reach shakily. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you get a feel of the harsh dark denim against your bare center and you had to bite into his lower lip to stay quiet, ultimately earning a groan from him when his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Bear," you whispered out, his lips chasing yours when you pulled away to speak— which made you chuckle quietly, as he looked at you again. "Ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," he parroted, the usually wide eyes of his now hooded, pupils blown out as if he was looking right at the sun. When you reached in to kiss him again, you couldn't catch him fast enough— he was already holding onto your thighs to crouch down, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin when you spread your legs a little further apart, a force of habit.

Leaning back on your palms against the desk as much as the cramped space could allow, you took a deep breath— but it wasn't enough to prepare you for what came next when his tongue trailed a bold line across your slit, spreading your folds apart gently. It was a pleasant routine, one that you never quite got used to; because when he was down on his knees with his tongue tracing abstract shapes across your clit in a teasing manner, it was all about you and to think that a guy who often rushed things and went through life at a 2x pace would slow down just to put all of his attention on your pleasure only was more delightful than any compliment one could attain.

Carmen's fingertips were perhaps digging into the skin of your thighs a bit too hard, but could you possibly complain? The tip of his tongue dipped between your folds to spread your essence upwards, a mix of his saliva and your wetness covering your clit when he closed his lips around it and sucked— letting out a blissed groan, one that he'd scold you for if you were the culprit. You could only imagine how hard he must've been at that moment, he was always a sucker for situations like this, with the thrill of doing something so forbidden, right where he could be caught and your taste on his tongue, thighs on either side of his shoulders.

Imagining it didn't help your situation at all, it was hard to focus on one coherent thought when he kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves but you forced through— with the thought of the blunt tip of his length all flushed and leaking in your palm, curses leaving his soft lips whenever your fingers got a bit too tight around the girth. He liked it when you put your focus there, tip of your tongue tracing the slit and leaving kisses over it while the rest of your palm jerked him off— firm and slow.

And you'd always let your lips stray when he got close, deciding to suddenly bite into the skin of his inner thighs or to lightly trace his perineum with your tongue, just to have him reduced to a writhing, whining mess with not enough air to survive in his lungs. He'd spill onto your fingers and you'd clean him up right away, moving your way upwards with wet little kisses until you reached his lips. And he was one dirty fucker because tasting himself on you when you kissed him all sloppily was probably one of his favorite things in the world.

Drowned out in all the thoughts, you didn't notice how close you were until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders, and he finally added his fingers into the mix then— his middle and ring fingers easily breaching through, grazing all of your sensitive spots from the inside. You had to press your palm against your mouth to not let a sound then, when your climax finally hit you, and you'd probably slide right off the table with how quaky your whole body was at that moment if it wasn't for Carmen's strong grip on your body, holding you right where you belong.

The position was a bit merciless on his legs so far but he made it up to his feet again, giving you a light peck on your lips before his fingers found his mouth, his tongue circling the digits to clean them up as he stared right at you, into your soul. He pulled them out with a slight pop, and licked his lips clean. "How long did we take?"

"I don't know," you panted out. "I was busy imagining the way you come."

His light laughter brought a tender, yet bittersweet ache to your heart. "Fuck, you get off to that?" and you could tell him all about just how beautiful he was, and how much it turned you on to see him blissed out in pleasure— but you didn't know if your lung capacity allowed for it at that moment, as being quiet came with the benefit of holding your breath for longer than you should. "Tell me more."

You giggled against his lips when he braced himself on the desk with his two hands holding onto the edge on both sides of your thighs. Both of your hands moved down to the front of his pants, too fucked out to care about timing as you palmed him through the material just to see that grin on his lips falter. "I'm gonna make you jack off and watch sometime." you mumbled, slowly pulling the zipper down after setting him free from the belt and the button. He hummed, forehead to forehead, before reaching for another little peck.

"As much as I don't see why I should jack off while you're in front of me," he spoke, a sharp intake of breath cutting his line of thought halfway through when your fingers finally wrapped around his cock. "but— shit, if you're into that… Only if you do it w'me, though. I wanna watch too."

"You don't get to watch." you sighed, bringing him closer with your legs to line his length up with your entrance. "You're just gonna sit there and come on your hand like a loser."

Carmen couldn't help the short snort that left him. "Are you even capable of being mean to me?"

"Mm-hm, I'm very mean when I wanna be." and right after that, his tip slid right into your cavern, pulling a deep exhale from both of you when he pushed a bit deeper. His lips found yours, mostly to keep the noises at bay while his hips rolled into yours, grinding against you before retreating a little, only to push in harder this time around.

You felt so full and blessed that you didn't even have to imagine anything to get lost in the feeling.

His pants slid further downwards with each thrust until they pooled around his ankles and your thighs wrapped tighter around his body, trapping him in. His arms were so delicately wrapped around your waist that you had to hold onto him with your whole remaining power to not slide further towards the wall, but he couldn't exactly notice that when he was feeling so damn lucky, whole length wrapped in a warmth beyond his comprehension.

And again, you couldn't blame him, because neither of you managed to notice when the skin slapping against skin got a bit too loud, and your lips pulled away from his just to breathe out the filthiest little nothings, like how much you needed him to fill you right up to the brim. "Fuck, give it to me." your hips met his thrusts half-way through when you pushed yourself against him. "Carmy, come inside me, please."

"Yeah? Are you gonna take it all?" his voice sounded broken, and his fingers would surely leave imprints on your hips with how tight his grip was. "Won't let you waste a drop, baby. I won't."

Somehow, through how feral he was with the way you were begging him, the responsible side came forward and captured your lips in his again— because while his team was full of respectful people, they were also little shits who would never live it down if they heard those beautiful sounds that escaped your lips with each hit of his blunt head against your sweet spot. The thought somehow egged him on further— he couldn't exactly decide if he was too possessive to let anyone hear or if he was possessive enough to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you, but at that moment, both of those thoughts turned him on too much, enough for him to feel his high approaching. And judging by the way your walls cramped down on him tighter with each passing second, you weren't too far behind.

You could feel yourself gushing around him, coating both of you in your essence beyond simple cleaning, but that was a matter to worry about later, not when the love of your life was balls-deep inside of you, his rough grunts right against your ear when he reached to press his lips right below it. "Close?" he mumbled, and even though your mind was too busy to hear and comprehend him properly, you nodded— feeling his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer to the warmth his body provided. And while as much as you'd like to keep this going for longer, witnessing his pace falter and voice break as he moaned out your name, filling you up in the most delicious way slowly was enough to have your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure, and to have the knot finally snap.

Your whole body was buzzing, shaky even when he held you so tight against his chest as if you'd vanish right there and then— something that he always did after sex, no matter the circumstance. You giggled wearily against his shoulder, leaving a few kisses here and there before he pulled away slightly to pull you into a kiss— nothing like the ones you shared in the past minutes, this one was all sweet and loving. "Might drip if I pull out."

"You can't stay there forever, Carm."

"Oh, but I want to." he huffed out but still moved to slowly pull out of you anyway, having you both hiss in sensitivity and just like he thought, his come was ready to spill all over the place. Quick-thinker in nature, he caught his seed with his fingers right before they could go further, pushing them back into you just to hear you gasp— and slap his shoulder playfully.

"You're a fucking freak."

"Shut up— round two at my place? Kinda wanna see where that watching me jerk off fantasy of yours might lead us."

a/n: once again i could be easily manipulated into breaking into your house with a part two, who knows

also @carmensberzattos consider this a marriage proposal

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

Words: 2577

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt (this is will make sense if you read it), probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

IF THERE IS A WANT FOR A PART 2, I WILL DO ONE, IF NOT, THEN THIS STAYS AS A ONE-SHOT!

I mention Y/N goes to a church to pray, it is described more as a Christian or Catholic one (I really don't know the difference and I apologize) as she lights a candle before she prays. If you wish to skip that part, it starts with "Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral." and ends with "Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out.". I do also mention that the reader themselves aren't very religious (but grew up with it so reverted back to old practices to see if it helped)

Alfred is also dead in this (don't ask why he just is) so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

 I feel like I should mention:

Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

7:25 AM

The kids watched as Y/N was silent as she put the plate down in front of Bruce's empty seat. They all noted how fake her smile looked as she looked up at them. "Alright, I will see you kids later!"

They all watched as she walked out of the dining room and once they knew she was out of earshot, they started talking.

"Did she eat anything?"

It was Jason, he had been the last down (well...outside of Tim) so he only saw her putting the plates down and ushering them to eat.

Dick shook his head, he had seen her the entire time she made breakfast. Fully clothed, which was unusual as she usually just made breakfast in her pajamas with her hair occasionally brushed. But not today. Today her hair was done, makeup was on, she was dressed as if she was working.

But everyone in that house knew she was still off after what happened, even though it had been 3 months since the incident.

Damian flicked at his food, "Ummi was supposed to take me to school today."

Dick smiled at Damian, "I can, Dami. Mom is just...preoccupied."

Damian hmphed and continued to play with his food. Dick was concerned for his younger brother. He knew that while he himself was close with the woman he had allowed to become his mother, Damian was so much more as she was really the only person who never got mad at him or made fun of him when he didn't understand something.

Jason abruptly stood, "Since mom isn't here, I'm just gonna go."

Dick raised a brow, "Really Jason? You're just gonna leave after--"

"Hey, we've been over this before Dick. I come because mom asks me to." He shrugged as he put his jacket on, "Plus, I'm going to follow her."

Stephanie snorted, "She'll kill you when she catches you."

"If she catches me. If."

Steph hummed, "My bets are on she will. Y/N is always on the lookout, especially after..." She faded and looked down, regret piling up inside her as she thought of what she was about to say.

"Either way, tell us what you find Jason."

He nodded to Dick's request before heading out the side door in the kitchen. Dick tapped his hand on the table for a minute before speaking; "I'm gonna go check on dad, Damian go get everything ready and I'll meet you at the entryway, alright?"

The eldest stood, placing a gentle hand on the youngest shoulder before heading to the stairs. Dick was concerned. He had never seen his mother so...shut off. Pretending like everything was alright even though everyone who saw her could tell that she was so close to jumping off of a bridge.

The closest that he had seen her to this was back when Jason died and she broke up with Bruce. But even then, she didn't avoid things that she had already planned. Even then, she stayed committed to things.

Plus, Dick knew she had no plans today. Well...no plans except for the fact that beforehand this would have been her due date. And he knew that that was most likely what had off-set her so badly.

Dick didn't even knock before opening the door to Bruce's study. He was even speaking before his father even looked up from his computer. "Have you talked to mom?"

Bruce raised a brow, "What?"

"Mom." Dick crossed his arms, "When was the last time you and her had a real conversation?"

Bruce shrugged, "I'm not sure." He looked at Dick oddly, "What are you going on about?"

Dick let out a hard sigh, "You two are married, it is your job to take care of her. Goddammit Bruce!" He threw his hands up in anger, "You know what? Nevermind, I'm not...I'm not even going to try."

He angrily turned and walked out of the room. He didn't even understand why he even thought that talking to Bruce would help. He just walked down the stairs and remembered his promise to get Damian to school. Trying to hide the anxiety he had that he didn't know what exactly his mom was doing.

--------

9:09 AM

Jason watched Y/N walk out of the convenience store all the way in Blüdhaven. From where he was, he couldn't see what she had bought, but the moment he saw her go into the store, he had messaged Tim to watch her bank account. To watch what she was purchasing. Something felt...off as he watched her.

Jason knew that after the...accident, Y/N had been hard to reach. To talk to. He knew that she and Bruce hadn't been sleeping in the same bed since that argument he had accidently heard them having around 3 weeks after everything happened. So 4 weeks ago.

Granted...from what he had heard, it wasn't even a fight that they had had. Mostly just words being thrown at the other. Words that Jason never thought that he would hear either one say to the other. Words that he never told any of his siblings that he heard. All out of fear that one of them would panic. And while sure, he had a disdain for Tim and Damian, that didn't mean he would ever let either of them know what he had heard.

Jason wasn't sure how long he had been watching her just sit in the car before Tim finally texted him a list of what Y/N had bought in the past week. And considering Jason had seen her previous bank records for a week, it was a sure red mark with how short it was.

Tim

In the past week she's gotten a lot of sleeping pills. That's basically all that she has gotten. That plus energy and pain pills. Duke is thinking she's self-medicating again

Jason sighed as he pocketed his phone when he saw his mom driving out of the parking lot. He kept a safe distance behind her as he followed her on her drive back to Gotham.

--------

12:15 PM

Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral. Trying not to make a misstep and fall as well as trying not to draw attention to herself. She closed the umbrella over her head as she walked in. Placing it in the small holder, she brushed the front of her outfit as her heels clicked on the ground when she walked down the long hall.

Last time she was there was for her mothers funeral last year. Last time she had walked up and grabbed the larger candle to dip down and light the smaller one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kneeled, words swimming through her head and mumbling off her lips.

She herself was never very religious, but having grown up that way, she wondered if praying like she did as a child would work. Praying that things would get better and that she would get better.

She shakily did the cross on her before standing and wiping the tears that had silently fallen away from her cheeks. She turned and started to make her way out of the church when she heard a voice call out her name:

"Mrs. Wayne! We were not expecting you here today, is everything alright?"

Y/N slowly turned to face one of the Nuns, a small, fake, smile on her face. "Oh yes, everything is alright Sister. Just came here to pray for a moment. I haven't in such a long time."

The nun nodded, "Very well, I hope the Good Lord hears your prayer and makes it happen."

Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out. She grabbed her umbrella before opening the door and walking out. She practically ran back to her car, wanting to get in before anyone saw her out.

But Cass and Steph did. They watched her speed back to her car as they sat in the cafe across the way. Stephanie shook her head, "She never goes there. Especially not since her mothers deaths."

Cass nodded as Steph continued; "Something is seriously going on with Y/N. Maybe something else has happened that we don't know."

"She's been deteriorating for the past 4 weeks."

Steph raised a bow and inquired, "4 weeks?" Cass nodded, "Huh...weird, that's around a week after she came home from the hospital." She grabbed her phone and started typing in the groupchat that only held the kids (Damian not included):

Steph

when did Bruce disappear for a few days after Y/N came home?"

It didn't take long for Tim to respond

logs say he left 35 hours after she got home and came back 83 hours later why?

Cass

She's been slowly getting worse sense then

Jason

I overheard them arguing around 3 weeks after everything happened and I know they haven't been sleeping in the same room since then. And I'm not sure how important this is; but Tim checked her bank account and she bought different pills so me, him, and Duke think she's medicating again. Or that she's going to start again.

Cass and Steph looked at each other, concern and worry was on their faces as they read Jason's last message. Something started unnerving them as they thought of the things she could possibly do if she was going to start medicating again.

----

3:25 PM

Y/N looked at her body in the mirror. Her hands came to lay on her stomach. Just like she did before. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at her flatter stomach. She breathed shakily as her hands fell down to her sides.

Why?

Was all she ever asked.

Why me? Why did this happen to me?

She was so confused. She had always been good. Done everything to be a good person. But yet she still had that happen to her. Was she just not meant to be a mother?

Of course...she was one. She was a mother to 4 amazing boys and 1 beautiful girl. But still...it was different. Yes, those 5 children were hers, but that one. That singular one that she had carried for nearly 7 months had meant so much to her. Especially after being told time and time again it wouldn't happen.

It wasn't even the first time it had happened. She had had miscarriages before...but that wasn't what it was this time. The kidnapping. Bruce and the kids had found her after 2 days. The emergency c-section to save the baby.

But she knew. Of course she knew. She knew it had died.

Her baby girl. She had died before she even got the chance to live.

Y/N shakily breathed as she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. She had thought it was the pain medication. But it hadn't been.

Sleeping meds.

Ever since it happened she had hardly been able to sleep. Nightmares of what happened still plagued her mind. Bruce yelling at her still echoed in her brain. Those...twisted words he said echoed inside of her.

She had popped a few in her mouth before dry-swallowing them and getting into the bath she had started earlier. The hot water felt like it was searing her skin, but she didn't care. She wondered if maybe she did this enough, whoever was above would forgive her of her sins and let her keep a pregnancy.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the water before it became difficult to keep her head above water. Her body just felt so heavy. She wondered what pain meds she had grabbed at the store. She couldn’t remember them making her feel this way before. After a few moments of struggling to keep her head up, she felt her body sink down and under the water. But even as she felt water rush into her nose and fill her lungs, she couldn't bring herself to move and get out.

She just accepted her fate.

----

3:30 PM

Bruce sat in his office, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. Something was telling him to check on Y/N. See if she was alright. He knew she had returned around 20 minutes ago, the security cameras had caught her walking in.

He carefully stood from his desk and walked out of his office. He walked down the oddly quiet halls of the manor. A small feeling of pain and guilt started to eat at him as he got closer to the guest room she had been staying in. He knew she was struggling. He knew that she needed him today. But he just...couldn't.

He was selfish. He knew this.

He knew he was so goddamn selfish. Caring about his own feelings rather than helping his wife. She had been the one to physically go through everything. She had been the one to bear that trauma.

He had been so incredibly selfish since she had come home from the hospital. He had even begun to wonder why she even stayed in the manor.

But as he opened the door to the guest room, unrest settled inside him as he saw she wasn't there but the bathroom door was open. It was silent. He had known his wife long enough to know she never was silent in the bathroom. She almost always had music playing.

He pushed the bedroom door further open as he walked further in. Anxiety started to reach a breaking point as he walked into the bathroom.

And time felt like it moved in slow-motion as he saw her state. Her knees bent out of the water, her head under. He saw the three bottles of pills on the counter. He saw the open one read sleep on them. He ran over to the tub, grabbing under her arms and pulling her out.

He bent down, trying to listen for a heartbeat. He felt like his own heart stopped as he heard nothing. Not even a faint thump of one. He quickly moved to her side and started CPR.

Everything still felt like it was moving slower than it was as he pushed down on her sternum. Tears gathered in his eyes as he repeatedly slammed down onto her. As he breathed into her mouth. He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally had gotten the CPR to work. She began to cough profusely, water spluttering everywhere. He sobbed as he heard her shallow breaths break through the air.

He heard the noise of Dick's voice breaking. "Mom?"

He looked at him, seeing both him and Damian staring at the scene in front of them. Staring as their father held their mother in his arms. As tears fell from his eyes, he pleaded for them to call 911.

It was with shaky hands that Dick did it. His words sounded choked back, he kept stuttering. Trying to say what he was supposed to but his mind was running at a million miles and and half a mile a second at the same time. Everything felt fuzzy and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

[haikyu-mp4]

A light in the dark

Fluffy workplace romance working at a funeral home with your crush Matsukawa, for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @haikyuuadict. word count; 706 – gn!reader

How did you end up as Mattsun’s regular work partner, you say? It’s because none of the other workers can stand your superior humour. Or everyone else found both of you annoying and decided to group you for every shift you had. From making inappropriate jokes in meetings to asking for second rounds of wine at church, you two were certified menaces to work with.

Jokes on them, you two love working together. To the extent that you developed an unspoken crush.

When the whole team was invited to a work party in October, hosted in the less morbid parts of the funeral home, you both looked at each other with wicked grins.

It’s October, surely this is a costume party.

So the two of you showed up with sheets over your heads and sunglasses on top to mark your faces, making spooky sounds with your arms raised when you entered.

The majority of your coworkers frowned in near disgust, shaking their heads and looking away. You couldn’t see that well, so you lifted your sheet discreetly and took a sharp breath at the sight.

“Matsukawa,” you whispered, slapping your hand on his arm. “No one else is wearing costumes.”

“What?” he whisper-yelled, copying your move of lifting the sheet, but a little less discreetly. Your eyes travelled down from his face to his formal shirt, unbuttoned at the top for a breather, probably thinking he would wear the costume all night.

“Couldn’t even throw on a tie?” you teased, ears red when his eyes travelled down your pretty blouse and suit pants in return.

“Well, not all ghosts got invited to fancy parties. Didn’t you literally wear that to work last week?” he teased back, and the two of you eventually just let the sheets rest on your shoulders like informal capes.

“Hey, our job requires formal attire. Didn’t know you took such great notice of my outfits, anyway.” You walked over to the buffet table, pulling Matsukawa along by the wrist.

The two of you ended up sitting across from each other on a table in an adjacent room, each with a paper plate filled with food and trying to stifle your laughter.

“You? I can’t imagine you were that terrifying on the court, Matsukawa,” you commented after he told you more about his volleyball career.

“I didn’t need to look scary. They all fell in love with me and refused to hit the ball past me.” Your laugh sounded more like a snort, a sound that made Mattsun smile. The kind of smile that suggested you were the brightest light source in the room.

“Understandable.”

“Hey, why do you still call me Matsukawa?” he questioned as your laughter died down.

“We’re coworkers,” you said, but it didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to. “You call me by my last name, too.”

“What if we stopped doing that? It’s mostly just the two of us at work, I don’t think our other coworkers could dislike us any more than they already do.”

You pulled the sheet back over your head, trying not to laugh at the joke that brewed in your mind before you even got to say it. “They’re such boomers,” you said, putting a spooky voice effect around the word boo.

Mattsun wishes he had a plan for what he did next, but it surprised him just as much as it surprised you. He leaned forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips against yours over the ghost sheet.

Neither of you moved much, taking in the rough feeling of the cheap sheet before leaning away, only for you to throw the costume off to stare at him.

“Issei,” you whispered. And the smile you gave him next was one he swore could have woken the dead. You leaned forward with one hand between you on the table, the other taking hold of his shirt to pull him closer for another kiss.

This time you got to enjoy it, even letting your tongue have a taste of the poorly brewed coffee that lingered on his lips.

With such a depressing profession, he felt lucky you ended up in the same place, a light to hold his hand through the darkness.

masterlist

[ilovechuuy4]

ˊ "I thought you were leavin' me.?" ˋ

٭✰.Fyodor D. X GN! Reader.✰٭

A/N: erm, ty to my bsf for giving me ideas when I had none (I just didn't want to do any of my drafts) I was making this while the pole was going on:3 HAPPY BIRTHDAY FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY!!! ✰٭

→ Description; It's Fyodor's birthday and you wanted to surprise him

↣ Fyodor is the type to not get nor want birthday parties anymore but when he gets them from close people, he enjoys them a lot ✰*

It was around 4pm, you and Fyodor were out 'nd about walking around Yokohama until a REALLY important thought popped inside your head. You hadn't forgot but, you were so caught in having a nice day with Fyodor it was just resting in the back of your mind. It was Fyodors birthday! You looked at Fyodor and then back at the ground, you felt bad if you left your boyfriend but, you really wanted to surprise him for his birthday.

You looked Fyodor in the eyes with soft worried eyes placing a kiss on Fyodors lips. "I got to go my love, promise you I'll meet you at the house" You spoke slowly before colliding your lips with his one more then skittering off in the crowded streets of Yokohama, Fyodor looked so disappointed when you left him alone in the streets.

You walk around the stores grabbing foods to cook, cake, sweets, everything you think you would think Fyodor would appreciate. You also decided to get him a gift, you weren't sure what to get him since he isn't the most open when it comes to things he likes most it's always "you" or "church" which obviously doesn't give you anything!

You sigh as you walk around until you find a jewelry shop, men's womens, etc. Everyone was shopping there so you decided to take a peek. You walk in, gently colliding shoulders with a lot of people, it was pretty crowded. A few minutes of glancing and looking, you spot a beautiful ring, it was a silver ring with a small piece of topaz, it was the exact color of Fyodor's birthstone, so maybe he would like it?

You slowly picked up the box and looked at the ring more closely, you could definitely get something ingraved on the inside, maybe the date of yall's anniversary? Yea, that's good. You pick up the ring and head to the check out counter, you had the ring to the worker and ask them to ingrave that anniversary date, which they happily did for you.

You watch as it is engraved and then the worker told you the price, which made you choke on your own so it, 200 dollars?! But, you decided it was worth it since it was Fyodor's birthday. You take out your credit card and pay. You walk out with all the bags of different foods and sweets and the ring and make your way home, and hopefully you could get this all set before fyodor is home. When you arrived home, luckily for you, Fyodor wasn't home.

You quickly put away all the cold items, along with the red velvet cake for fyodor's birthday. You decided to make beef stroganoff, you got all the ingredients ready and started to cook. It had taken around an hour and thirty minutes. It was weird, fyodor wasn’t home yet so, you plate the beef stroganoff over noodles along a piece of garlic bread and broccoli.

About thirty minutes go by and then you hear the front door doorknob jingling and rattling, Fyodor was finally home! You quickly warm up the lukewarm food and place it down on the dining table. You rummage through your bag to grab the present you bought for Fyodor placing that on the table too. You skitter around to get every thing ready, quickly grabbing the cake from the fridge as well, putting it on the center of the table. You watch as the front door opens and a tired, slightly annoyed Fyodor walked in. You knew exactly why he was upset.

"Surprise?" You said softly a soft sorry look on your face as you said it. Fyodor looks at you then at the table with the gift and food, the annoyed expression slowly faded and turned to a soft smile. “Oh darling, thank you so much.” Fyodor spoke as he hugged you tightly, his arms wrapping around your waist. He plants a soft kiss in your forehead before he speaks again, “Let’s eat that delicious food now, yeah?” He said smiling as he let go of you and took a seat at the table, and you quickly follow suit.

Y’all both pick up the forks and start eating, occasionally talking and sipping on the white wine that you prepared along with dinner. It took around 20 - 30 minutes for y'all to finish since y'all spoke to each other, but eventually y'all were finished. You quickly stood from the table and grabs the small bag off the kitchen counter, handing it to the black haired man with a soft yet bright smile. "Here I got you a gift, honey." You said with that same bright smile while handing the small bag to Fyodor.

Fyodor takes the gift with shaky hands, "You know you didn't have to get me a gift, I know you get me a gift every year but still my love" he spoke lovingly, even if he complained so much about you getting him a gift, he really did appreciate it. "I know, but I enjoy seeing the look of joy on your face every time." you responded as you watched Fyodor open the present. As Fyodor slowly opened the present, you watched in utter joy, you really hoped that Fyodor liked the present. Fyodor pulls out all of the tissue paper you had stuffed in the bag which was a lot, you didn't have any wrapping paper so it was the best option.

Your soft e/c eyes follow the boney hands of the Russian man as he reaches in the bag and pulling out the small box, which causes him to look up from the bag at you, one of his raven colored eyebrows cocked. He just shakes his head with a soft smile as he looks back down at the small box. His slim fingers slowly open the box as he sees the beautiful silver ring with the beautiful topaz gem, he slowly picks up the ring from out the case and looks at it, his violet colored eyes lighting up and filling with love as he sees the inside of the ring with y'all's anniversary date, he looks at you and back at the ring.

Your lover wasn't the one to cry when receiving gifts, he never has. But it seems you hit a nerve as his beautiful eyes started turning glossy and the clear tears drip slowly from them. "Fyodor, darling? What's the matter?" you said a frown of worry on your face. The Russian looked up from the ring and at you, "y/n, honey,i really love it you don't even know how much I do." he said as the glossy clear drops continue to fill and drop from his eyes. He stands from the chair he was sat in and embraces you tightly, his arms around your waist. He plants a slow, tender, and loving kiss on your lips and holds it. The taste of wine still on his lips from dinner as he slowly pulls away. "I really thought you were leavin' me you know?" He spoke as he sighed, keeping you in that tight embrace.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel by the Wing - Thirty-One

A/N: no this isn't an April Fool's prank lol. I take the LSAT in 10 days and I want to throw up!!! :)))))

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

Chapter Warnings: emotional abuse (we find out why Angel is Like That)

“It’s not great,” Penny admitted.

“But it’s not horrible either,” you pointed out. The two of you sat at one of the rustic wooden picnic tables outside the bar. A plate of fries sat untouched between you as you looked over the quarterly profit margin. Everything was down and your sales were drastically decreasing from last year.

“Even if you and I took on more shifts, we’d be screwing over the others by cutting their hours. It’s a no-win situation,” she sighed. The bar was losing money and you could see it was starting to take a toll on her. This was supposed to be one of the busier seasons thanks to the warm weather and the proximity to the beach, but aside from a random tourist here and there, you rarely saw anyone other than military personnel come by and it was hurting your profits.

“We could raise the price of food? Or decrease the menu,” you mused. “Less options means less cost for products.”

“Just keep appetizers and stuff. Maybe let go of one of the cooks.” You could tell she didn’t want to relieve anyone, but you were going to have to if the numbers kept getting smaller. Penny stared at the pages spread out between you two in hopes that they would magically change. She looked out onto the ocean and pursed her lips in contemplation.

“This place is one of the longest standing Navy bars in the whole city,” she said quietly. “And everyone is going to know me as the woman who couldn’t keep it open.”

“Hey, no.” You covered her hand with your own. “First of all, you are not the one to blame when people aren’t coming. We’ll figure out why traffic is falling. Second of all, you are not going to sit here and shit on yourself. That is not the Penny Benjamin I know. We will figure this out, Pen. I promise.”

Her lips quirked up into a small smile and she squeezed your hand. “I knew I hired you for a reason.”

“My amazing personality and brilliant mind?”

“Actually it was the fact that you told Hangman to fuck off instead of sleeping with him.”

“But I did sleep with him.”

“After you told him to fuck off, though.”

You opened your mouth to retort but your phone, seated on the table in front of you, began to sound. Noticing who it was, you ignored it without a second thought. You let the phone ring until it went to voicemail, ignoring Penny’s pointed look. A two-word text flashed across your screen and you read it with a creeping sense of dread filling your gut.

“Who was that?” Penny asked.

“Hmm? Oh, just a spam call, I think.”

She shot you a warning glare but you didn’t have it in you to fight today. You also didn’t want to burden her with more of your problems.

“I have to go pick up Amelia from school but hey, we weren’t going to figure this out in one day.”

“And we will figure it out, Pen. I promise.”

The older woman flashed you a sad smile and sighed. “I hope so, kid. Have a good night off.” The two of you gathered up all the papers and Penny stuffed them back into the binder she had brought with her.

You waited until her car pulled out of the lot before you picked your phone up again and studied the text. Might as well get it over with now.

She picked up on the third ring and you braced yourself. “Hi mom.”

“Janie Sue from church was in San Diego visiting her nephew and guess what she saw?” Her tone was bored, but you sensed the anger underlying her words.

“The USS Midway museum?” you offered up.

“She saw you bartending at some rundown Navy bar and said you were hanging all over two men the whole night.”

“And no one is questioning why Janie Sue was at a bar with her underage nephew and her alcoholic husband?”

Your full name met your ears with a blistering crack and heat spread across your cheeks as the brunt of her anger flooded through the phone. “I figured your little voicemail was your idea of a prank, but now I know for a fact that you have wasted every opportunity your father and I gave you to end up as a whore.”

“Mom, it’s not like tha-”

“It is exactly like that! You are brilliant. You had so much going for you. And now you’re knocked up like some two-bit prostitute who spread her legs for any sailor who tipped you well.”

Shame and rage pooled in your chest and pressure built in your eyes. You bowed your head and shielded your face in case anyone who would recognize you walked by.

“Mom, I’m happy,” you interjected with a shaky voice.

“You don’t sound very happy! You could have been anything you ever wanted to be and this is what you chose? If they’re so willing to share you, do you really think those two boys give a shit about you? How many girls are they sleeping with when you’re not around?”

“Mom, they’re not like that! Seriously, they are good men.”

“Oh, that’s what they all say. He’s different, he’s special,” she mocked. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s pathetic. Honey, your father and I can come and get you. You can move back in with us and we’ll support you and the baby until you can get back on your feet.”

“No, I don’t need you to come get me. San Diego is my home. I have a life here. I have my life here. I’m not leaving.”

Your mother let out a deep, heavy sigh laced with frustration. “If you keep going down this path of wrong choices, one of these days you’ll learn to regret it. We’ll be here when you realize how much of your life you’ve wasted trying to prove a point to me.”

“Why didn’t you call when I first told you?” You finally spit out the question that had been eating at you since you saw her initial call. “Why now? Is it because others know and are talking about it? You just can’t be anything but the way you want people to view you, can you?”

Tears were dripping down your cheeks and mingling with the disgusting, snotty sob that rose in your chest. Your mother let out a bitter laugh.

“And this is always how it goes. Now you’re going to be mean to me in some attempt to make yourself feel superior. You don’t know everything so stop acting like you do. Now, I’m going to hang up before you start yelling at me. Stop being so dramatic, honey. You chose this life.”

The line went dead and you had the urge to launch your phone into the ocean. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Double triple flying fuck.

You swiped at the tears that dripped down your cheeks with the back of your hand and clambored off of the bench before anyone saw you. Jake was visiting his mom and Bradley had flown back to Virginia two days ago and was currently on a road trip back to San Diego. He kept sending selfies to the group chat the three of you shared. You were saving all of them.

Good. That would give you privacy to sob all the bullshit out without anyone worrying.

You knew she wasn’t right. You knew this. But at the same time, years of her words crowded your mind and consumed your body. Was she right? There was nothing special about you. Were the boys staying simply because you were knocked up? Your body went cold at the thought of that and you wrapped your arms around your stomach, guarding it from the world.

Fuck it. Fuck it all. If that was true, then you would figure it out all by yourself, just like you had your entire life.

You approached your clunky old car and fumbled for the key, your hands trembling as you tried to unlock it. Just as you slipped the key into the lock, a soft sound caught your attention. You paused and waited, but didn’t hear anything else. Opening the door, you prepared to slide in when there was that damn sound again.

You kneeled down and came face to face with the sad, pitiful eyes of a cat that had clearly seen better days. It let out another weak cry and you felt tears well up in your eyes again.

“Oh my god,” you whispered aloud at the pervasive nature of your hormones. The cat blinked up at you and slowly slunk forward. It investigated your outstretched hand and then gently twisted its head to rest in your palm, begging for any kind of attention.

There was no fucking way you were leaving this little baby all alone in the parking lot.

That’s how you ended up stumbling into the townhome with sticky tear tracks on your cheeks and a scruffy, malnourished cat curled up in your arms. You had sent a text to Sofia when you were at a red light because you knew she grew up with all sorts of animals and the Trace household had three cats. She would know what to do.

“Baby?” Jake called when you tumbled through the front door. You froze, not expecting him to be home. He was supposed to be at his mom’s.

As if summoned, Jennifer and Jake appeared around the doorway to the kitchen and found you looking like an absolute mess. Your clothes were rumpled, your makeup was destroyed, and a clearly malnourished and homeless cat meowed pathetically from your arms.

“I didn’t…” you stammered out. “I couldn’t just leave him there. A car could have hit him or a dog could have attacked him o-or…” Tears welled up in your eyes again and you hugged the cat a little closer to your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you said in a quiet voice that was so unlike yourself. “But I couldn’t just leave him.”

Jake moved past his mother and approached you. He wiped some of the tears off of your cheeks and then studied the cat in your arms. “We can’t keep him, baby.”

“I know,” you hiccupped out a little whimper. “Sofia gave me the info for her vet and I set up an appointment for tomorrow morning. Can he please just stay the night?”

Jennifer watched her son with a close eye. Jake was a dog person through and through. She remembered how he would beg her for a dog every Christmas and every birthday, but she could never deliver. He always said cats were too aloof, too mean, not cuddly enough, and more. He was a clean person who loved order in his home.

But one look at the tears in your eyes had Jake Seresin caving.

“He can stay the night,” Jake conceded. 

A brilliant smile lit up your face and you hugged the poor cat even tighter, but the feline didn’t argue. Instead, it tucked its little head under your jaw and started to purr.

“Thank you, Jake. Is now a good time to tell you that Nat and Sofia are already bringing over some stuff for him?”

He rolled his eyes but kissed you on the top of the head. Jake even kept the comments to a minimum when the couple showed up armed with a litter box, fresh litter, food, and a few toys. You cordoned off the laundry room for the cat and started to set up his space when Jake casually moved you out of the room.

“You can’t change litter,” he warned. “Nat just told me.”

“Yeah, I can’t change the litter that he’s used, Einstein,” you retorted but he leveled you with a stern glare and pointed away from the laundry room.

“Out. I’ll call you back when it’s ready.”

You sighed but kissed his cheek in thanks and made your way outside where Sofia and Nat were, luckily not making out, but chatting next to their car. Sofia grinned at the sight of her friend and slung her arm over your shoulders.

“Hangman won’t admit it, but that cat’s staying forever,” Nat said. “Have you texted Bradley yet?”

“Nah, I’m gonna surprise him with Skipper when he comes home.”

“Skipper?” Sofia chuckled. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely staying.”

Jake poked his head out from the front door and Nat pushed away from the car to go chat with him about something. You took that as your chance and burrowed in closer to your best friend’s side.

“What’s up?” Sofia had an incredibly discerning eye and always seemed to know what you were feeling before you did.

“‘S nothing. I, uh, I got the paternity results back.” Sofia was the only one who knew you even got the test done. As a medical receptionist on base, she was the one who helped coordinate your test thanks to the potential fathers being naval officers.

“Hey, whoever it is, the three of you are locked together,” Sofia assured you. You nodded, but your mother’s words ran through your mind over and over again.

Tag List:

@mizzzpink@xoxabs88xox@dreaminglandsworld@khaylin27@loveforaugust@atarmychick007@itsmytimetoodream@krismdavis@emma8895eb@startrekfangirl@hangmandruigandmav@lunamoonbby@sihtricswife@jstarr86@drakelover78@abaker74@emma8895eb@hardballoonlove@nerdgirljen

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 3x9, A Deep Fried Korean Thanksgiving, Part IV

I just realized the winter carnival episode is next and tbh I'm pretty stoked about that one.

Ugh, someone left Gilmores on my front porch. Fetch me my broom. Shoo! Shoo! At Thanksgiving number one, we find out Lane is spinning yet another tangled web of lies to ensnare Soggy Rygalski (my new pet name for him, don't ask). Mrs Kim thinks Soggy is actually in a Christian band that Lane discovered through church and not a sinful rock band. Mrs Kim serves Tofurky and I feel as if our little vegetarian diner rat would have enjoyed that.

Welcome back, Soggy.

Dang. When Rory sees how people like her mother and Luke and Mrs Kim treat their employees, it's no wonder she doesn't want to get a job! Bad dum tssssh. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night.

Why did I remember that scene as being a lot longer than it was? It lasted less than three minutes. Weird!

Onward, from Soggy to Sookie.

"According to the National Fire Protection Association: deep fryer fires cause an average of 5 deaths, 60 injuries and more than $15 million in property damage each year. Deep-frying turkeys has become increasingly popular, but the new tradition is a recipe for holiday tragedy."

Men, eh? One minute they're lying about turkey preparation and the next they're lying about having a vasectomy.

Rory looking gravely concerned or lost in thought as usual. Thinking deep thoughts about frying. Asked Sookie not once but twice "What do you use the oil for"?

Granny creakily rising from her lawn chair to join the hordes of Jackson's screaming white trash relatives has to be one of my favorite bits in this episode (maybe the season?) so far.

Gather round, white trash young and old. Your king has arrived.

THE FACES!

This whole scene is top notch. I tip my hat to you, Miss AmyShermanPalladino. After departing the white trash jubilee, it's time to circle back to Lukes. I know small business owners are hard working people who don't always have the luxury of shutting down and taking a break, but do you think he ever closes the diner? For anything? Christmas Day? Yeah, I'm sure ya'll can name a few times on the show where he closes up shop (would actually be interested to hear what they were). It wouldn't matter. He'd try to close on Christmas Day and the Gilmores would show up anyway and demand to be served instead of drinking eggnog in their own home. For Christmas, Lorelai should buy Luke a massage. (A LEGITIMATE MASSAGE. You filthy readers).

Mommy Daddy please stop fighting

*smashes Jess and Rory together like I'm 9 years old forcing two Barbie dolls to make out*

Alarming to see Lorelai treat Jess this nicely because I worry she may be ill. Or possibly delirious from hunger (she didn't eat at Sookie's or Lane's, she threw out Mrs Kim's tofurky and just gawked at Sookie's house). It looks like Luke was nice enough to give Jess the day off, but Walmart (and its Hunger Games-style Black Friday festivities) may still be calling. Is this the first real, hot, home made, lovingly prepared holiday meal anyone had ever served him in his entire life? (I'll give partial credit to The Bracebridge Dinner). No street wieners for Jess Mariano this Thanksgiving! Jess says he's starving, but Luke told him not to eat until the Gilmores arrived first. That's some grade a bullshit.

All he wants this Thanksgiving is for his fellow white people to Check Their Privilege. Good luck with that, Lucas.

Serving lewks. Luke has just served the table four heaping plates of hot food and upon hearing that the Gilmores will be trotting off to the McMansion next, presumably to eat way fancier, he says they can just throw everything the fuck out and drink soda if they want. Kay... Jess: Please, Uncle Lucas, don't take away my hot meal. I'm ever so hungry.

A screen shot of Milo eating makes a great gift or any holiday or special occasion.

How DARE you Lucas. You are not going to make my poor tired boy serve coffee to the Gilmores on Thanksgiving Day! Lorelai's your ball and chain, you do it.

Yeah, what a pity that not everyone can kiss like Dean.

"You and Jess are a couple of chickens pecking each other." Yooo, it's about time you pick a lane, Lorelai. You're confusing the poor girl. The last time an adult got wind that Jess and Rory were about to peck like chickens The Incredible HulkLuke smashed down the door and put those two chickens out to pasture. Rory: Mind your own business. Lorelai:???????? I assure you she does not know the meaning of the phrase. R: I'm not good with public displays. L: You didn't have that problem with Dean Me: Trying fruitlessly to remember any scene where Dean and Rory passionately made out in public or showed any sort of affection with each other anywhere that Lorelai could see it R: I don't know how this first second boyfriend thing is supposed to go. L: Well he's your first second boyfriend so give it time. R: The whole town got used to me with Dean. L: It'll get easier, you'll have hundreds of men. Well maybe not hundreds. A couple. Three more. Dean again, Logan, then Logan again. L:They'll adjust to seeing with you Jess! R: What do I do about Dean? L: Well he'll move on too. All this sensible advice coming from Lorelai? It is truly the Thanksgiving of Miracles.

God bless you, Babette. God bless you.

The next scene, a Friday (Thursday) Night Gilmores Showdown at the McMansion goes on for around 8 minutes which is going to feel like more than an hour in Salty Time. I'm going to wilt.

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug on ALL the other Clones in Star Wars!

As promised, for reaching a new number of followers, here's Doug's list when I asked him to name off all the clones in 'The Clone Wars' and 'The Bad Batch'!

Some are obviously repeats of other posts, and some are brand spanking new.

I'm using my autoethnography skills to their fullest extent, here, people.

This is LONG but hey! 7 seasons of The Clone Wars and 3 seasons of The Bad Batch means animated Star Wars in the Days of our Lives of animation.

If I'm missing someone, let me know! I'll reach out to Doug!

Enjoy, everyone!

CW: Redneck Doug just rambles needlessly about people.

And Clermont Lounge is one of the scariest and yet, most fun places in the ATL and I could 100% see one of the 501st working there.

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

Bly: That’s a boy, his name’s Miguel. Got his friends, they drink Pabst, shoot the empty cans behind the garage when they done, and hit on every woman that walks by. But Miguel’s got his eyes on Babe-the-Blue-Jedi and steals flowers from people’s yard and gives them to her. Babe-the-Blue-Jedi knows the man’s not that bright but his heart’s in the right place and that’s all that matters, right? 

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him. 

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now. 

Hardcase: Wiggles. He laughs at everything and never wears a helmet both on his big head and his lil head and that explains everything about the man.

Kix: Nurse Mark. He's tired and sick of your shit, sick of the creeps trying to get the Fentanyl, that's a crime now, ain't it.

Echo: "Eh, Toaster Strudel. Homeboy looks like his daddy had an affair with a convection oven on shore leave and forgot to pay child support."

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty. 

Scorch: The Son of Robocop. His daddy told him to get off his lazy Robo-son ass and go get a job, so he works for the Empire now, because no one can get a job in Detroit. That’s why he’s a bad person. (Because he works for the Empire? “No, because he’s a Lions fan and that ain’t a good look for anyone.”)  

Fives: Alex-from-Manitoba. He reminds me so much of this awesome guy I knew, Alex, was from Winnipeg, we worked in oil together. Smart, knew his shit, loved guns and getting his hair did. No one listens to him, management hates him, and he gets fired. Man I was so pissed off when that happened with that damn alien that ran the ocean on the mall! He deserved better, damn it!

(Fives or Alex-from-Manitoba?

“BOTH!!!”)

99: 99!  

(You actually remember his name?  

“Hell yeah! He’s one of the most important characters! Why would I not?” 

::cue me, quietly staring at all the weird-ass names over texts and saying NOTHING in response::) 

Wolffe: Bernando. I dunno, man, he got that Bernardo energy. I’ve met three and they all looked like they wanna run off into the woods and come out when they got a deer they need to process and take a shower and find a lady before running back into the woods. Also Bernardo never has a girlfriend that lasts more than 6 months with him. Don’t know why. Just trust me. 

Gree: Carnie Joe. Man, he looks like the type of guy who drives an ice cream truck but there ain’t no Bomb Pops inside if you know what I mean. 

Cut Lawquane: Not-Wolverine. He ran away from the Empire, grew out his muttonchops, wanted to join the X-Men, Charles Xavier said ‘Nah son you need super powers for that’, and then Not-Wolverine stomped off into Tremors-land and started a pot-and-chicken farm like every other hillbilly in Kentucky. But he got a hot wife out of the deal and some nice kids and lots of guns, and ya know, that ain’t a bad ending for the man. 

Commander Fox: Red-Chief-of-Police. He’s absolutely on them Ticky-Tack videos my nieces and nephews watch where the cops are doing bad things but they ain’t gonna get fired over it. Man. It ain’t right. 

Tup: Alex’s-Friend-Matt. Aw, Matt, good guy, but too much brain damage after that time he fell off the roof while laying down tar. He grew out his ponytail to hide the dent in his head and talked funny afterwards, but he real good at roughneck work and I can’t fault the man, nope. 

Hevy: That’s Ross. He’s always mad because he’s insecure. He’s got a lot of Nerf guns and only eats stuff you can find at 7-11. 

Jesse: That’s Jesse, he’s a trucker, was a bouncer at Clermont Lounge in Atlanta, and has three ex-wives who all hate him. He shaves his head because his hair hates him too. 

Crosshair: So that there's Daddy Warcrimes. All you need to know is he lives on beer and Slim Jims, has more guns then Jesus got faith, and that he does your mom on the weekends, and then you thank him for his service.

Hunter: Aw man, we got Rambo up in this place. Daddy Rambo. He looks like he's got some hot wife with a huge butt who makes amazing biscuits, but he only showers on the weekends for reasons he won't tell you.

Wrecker: I know, I KNOW, he's got some cool Star Wars name, but in my head, he's Julio. He looks like a Julio, ya know? Every Julio's been the nicest guy with a truck and a million friends. I swear. I bet he's a contractor and lays pipe like you wouldn't believe. ::winks::

Tech: Hm, yeah, I know him. That's Ryan-from-Accounting, somebody's hipster dad. You know, everyone knows a Ryan who works in accounting, he's quiet, only drinks IPAs, and has a bitch wife named Laura who drives a Kia and is always yelling at him. Poor man. I hope Julio saves him from his bitch wife Laura.*

Omega: Little Orphan Blondie. I hope she gets real parents or something besides those freaky alien things running the mall on the ocean.

Emerie Karr: Stepsister-Beth. She’s got a stick up her rear, was in a sorority known for bitchy Daddy’s Girls who wouldn’t touch below the belt but are all about using other places for their date’s hoses to put out the fire, and only drinks almond milk lattes. She’s a bitch to waiters and drives a Prius. 

(“Doug I drive a Prius.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t a southern sorority girl so y’all forgiven.”)

Nemec and Fireball: Trigger and Nutsy. They’ve been in a survival militia in the Florida Everglades and that’s all you need to know. 

CX-2: The Guy from Tron. He’s a guy, and he was in the movie Tron. That’s it. 

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Maybe There’s a God Above: Priest!Bo Sinclair x nun!reader

Warnings: Manipulation, PinV, fingering, eating out, Catholicism, sex between a priest and nun, whatever all of those blasphemy words are and stuff.

A/N: ooooo I liked doing this one!!!

Day 5 of Haunted Hoedown

Hoedown Masterlist

Previous: Malfunction: Captain Denninger x afab!gn!android!reader

Next: Moonlight Madness: Bo x Gn!werewolf!afab!reader x Vincent

“Are you almost done?”

You look up from the blanket you are knitting and stare at Sister Jane.

“For today yes, I should be done tomorrow though.” You explain. You had been working on this blanket for weeks to give to a homeless shelter a few miles into the city. Everyone else had already finished theirs but yours took you a bit longer as you were new at this. Normally you’d never be put on duty for this but after Sister Anne had retired you were bumped up a spot.

“Okay, just reminding you that Father Bo needs to speak with you. Then you need to wash up for dinner.” Sister Jane says before leaving the room. You nod your head and set down all of your stuff before making your way down the corridors and across the church to Father Bo’s office. Honestly you wonder what he could want from you. You’d wondered it all morning when he came in during breakfast asking.

Father Bo made you nervous, you didn’t really know why. Well, you acted like you didn’t know why. You knew and God knew why and it was because you fantasized about being with him, about him kissing you and treating you so well and it really wasn’t your fault. He was handsome. More than handsome!

Honestly you felt like God was testing you.

Father Bo sits at his desk writing when you come in meekly. The door was already open so you give the frame a small knock making him look up from his paper. He smiles and your knees almost buckle. Father Bo stands up and walks around his desk, leaning on the edge of it. His arms cross.

“Evenin’, I just wanted to check in on you Sister. You seem to have avoided confession for the last few weeks. I’m hoping you’re doin’ alright. Was also wonderin’ why that is.”

You frown and look down so full of shame. You avoided it because you wanted to avoid him. He couldn’t tell or judge a soul when it came to confessions. But telling the source about your feelings towards him made you feel even dirtier than having the feelings.

“Hey, there’s no shame. I’m just concerned is all.”

Father Bo’s voice is gentle, it lures you in like a siren lures in a sailor.

“Just haven’t been feelin’ myself Father. I thought I could just tell God about it this time.”

What level of Hell does someone get sent to for lying to a priest?

“Ah, okay. Well you’ve been dealin’ with it for a long time. So, why don’t you come confess tonight. I’m sure it’ll take some weight off your shoulders.”

You let out a breath and close your eyes. “..Okay. I will Father. Before bed.”

“Sounds good. Now why don’t we head to dinner.”

You turn around and Father Bo follows after you. You feel his hand on your shoulder as the two of you walk towards the dinning hall. Your chest hurts and you keep looking at his large hands. Then you watch as it disappears and goes to your backside when you enter the hall.

It’s almost silent, just small whispers and talking about the next Mass and charity events that are coming up.

You sit in your seat seeing as a plate was already set for you and watch as Father Bo goes into the kitchen to get his food. You look down and begin eating quickly, your chest hurting from how fast you’re swallowing you food. You sip on your water and feel as those all of your Sisters are staring at you. But when you look up, they aren’t.

Sister Jane nudges you lightly. “What did he need to talk to you about?” She whispers, you turn towards her and frown.

“I hadn’t been going to confession the last few weeks. He’s askin’ me to go tonight. Said it’ll help lift a weight off my shoulder.” You explain, she nods her head.

“He’s right, you should. I’m not gonna ask why you haven’t been goin’ but k think you should. You seem to be too lost in thought recently and I know it ain’t cause of God.”

You nod your head in agreement and she rubs your shoulder before getting up and grabbing her plate along with the other sisters’ plates in her row. You eat in absolute silence after that.

-

The halls are silent as you walk down them. Your mind is racing on how you’d even confront the situation.

You could confess everything but your crush on Father Bo. But what if he catches on? No he wouldn’t, he can’t pressure you to confess, can he?

The chapel is dark other than a few candles lit up near the alter and the confessional booth. Father Bo comes out from the door, he looks at you and smiles genuinely.

“Come in.”

Father Bo opens the door for you, you go in and sit in one of the chairs. The priest goes behind the curtain and sits, your hands come together in prayer. He holds a rosary.

“In the name of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit.”

You mimic the silhouette of Bo and do the sign of the cross.

“Whenever you’re ready.” He says, you nod your head, not knowing whether he can see you in the lamp’s light or not.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. My last confession was uh…” You think for a second, how long had it been? “6 weeks ago.” You whisper. Oh this was bad, how did you even become a nun in the first place. You’re horrible. Horrible. Horrible.

“Sister?”

You look up. “Sorry, I’d like to ask for forgiveness for not going to confession, for-for staying up late, unable to sleep and for developing feelings for someone when I know I cannot marry.” You let out a shaky breath and lean into your folded hands. “This is all I can remember. I am sorry for these and all of my sins.” A small sob escapes your throat.

“I ask you do three Hail Mary’s and that you come to my office tomorrow to help me with some things.” Bo says. You nod your head.

You whisper The Act of Contrition and afterwards Bo says the prayer of Absolution to you. You two make the sign of the cross and head out of the booth.

“12 pm tomorrow.”

You nod and sniffle. He gives you a half smile.

“It’s okay, you’ve been forgiven.”

-

Just like the day before, you knock lightly on the frame of the door to alert Bo.

“Afternoon, go ahead and shut the door.”

You nod and do as you’re told, stepping into the room and shutting the door quietly behind you.

“Bring that bench over here.” He points. You furrow your eyebrows but again, you listen. You drag the bench to the middle of the room wondering why he wants you to do this.

You stand up straight and Father Bo is directly behind you making you yelp when he speaks. “I’d like to ask you who these feelin’s you developed are for.”

His voice is raspy, your breath hitches and you close your eyes.

“I cannot say Father.”

“Oh but I think you can.”

You turn and look at him, your eyes reading fear and his eyes clearly eating that fear up. Being obedient you answer. “Y-you.”

He hums. “Good, for your penance I need you to go ahead and take off your panties for me.”

You open your mouth, trying to muster up the words to ask him if this is what God told him to do. But none come to mind.

You reach up your dress and pull them down, they’re slightly soaked and you frown. Father Bo takes them from you and pockets them.

“Lift your dress up and sit.”

You get on the bench and do just that. Father and takes his foot and kicks your legs apart, your hairy mound comes into view, he smirks and kneels. His tongue goes directly to your clit and you arch your back grabbing his hair.

“Father! We-we can’t!” You whine.

“It’s okay, nothing is going in you so it doesn’t count.”

Was that the rule?

Your thoughts scramble as he licks and sucks your clit. His hands keeping your thighs apart. Your thighs still shake and spasm as he finds your favorite spot.

You let out a small moan and listen to the wet noises coming from Father Bo making out with your cunt.

He groans and stops for a second, the bottom of his face is wet with you. “You taste divine.” He says, your face heats up and you look away. “No.” He sticks a thick digit in you and you gasp. “Look at me.”You look down and he’s smirking. “It’s okay because I haven’t stuck my cock in you. We just have to make sure you’re repenting correctly.”

Father Bo curls his fingers, you let out a high pitched moan and goes down again on you, sucking and kissing your clit aggressively.

You feel a cramp in you that you’ve never felt before and let out something between a gargle and whine making Bo work faster. Your thighs sweat and shake, then you fall over the edge. White flashes behind your eyes as you cum. High pitched squeals come from your throat and Bo works you through your orgasm. He pulls out his fingers and licks then clean.

“I need one more thing from you.”

You look at Father Bo hazily, he’s unbuckling his belt and unzipping his black pants.

His large hand gently pushes you back onto the bench. Every holy part of you wants to resist. Unfortunately the lust seems to take over and you allow him to slowly slide into you.

“It’s okay, cause we’re practically saints, at least.. you are.”

You nod and feel how he stretches your pussy out. He leans down and kisses your lips, they taste just like you.

“Father-“

He shushes you. You whine.

“Feel good.” You whisper, he kisses your cheek and slowly pulls out before thrusting back into you.

“That’s good, it’s supposed to. It’s how you know it’s working. This is your penance after all.”

His cock moves in and out of you making both of you groan and moan about how good it feels.

You grab his hand and move it to your breast, he takes no time and gropes it. You lean up and kiss Father Bo’s soft lips. He thrusts harder. “Have you said your-“ he groans “three Hail Mary’s yet?” He asks, grunting and licking your neck. You shake your head.

“Go ahead. Say it and you’ll be forgiven.”

“Hail Mary- Full of… Grace!” You buck up into him feeling the same knot forming in your stomach again. “The Lord is with thee- ah~. Blessed art thou among women and blessed it the fruit of thy Womb, JESUS!” Tears fall down your cheeks as he hits a special spot inside of you.

“Come on, not even done with the first one. Can’t cum until you say all of them.”

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

You whine and buck into him as he slows down, you know he’s about to cum himself.

“Hail Mary Full of Grace the Lord is with thee blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” You slur, your tongue feels like nothing in your mouth. Still you try and say it again one more time, feeling as Father Bo moves his hand between your legs and rubs for clit as he fucks into you.

“Hail Mary Full of Grace.. oh please.. the Lord is with thee blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Gonna cum, please gather let me cum!” You beg looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. He smiles.

“Just finish it for me.”

“Holy Mary Mother of God, mmgh… pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen!”

He thrusts into you a few more times and you cum around his cock. Quickly he pulls out and cums on your mound. The cum laying on your hair.

He kisses you one more time before getting up and adjusting himself. You lay there looking at him. “My-“

“Keepin’ these.” He pats his pocket.

You nod and sit up, your dress falls over your cum soaked cunt and you look at Father Bo.

“I’ll tell you when you come back. Don’t think this is a one time thing.”

“Yes Father.”

You get up and he kisses your head, then makes sure you’re adjusted before you head out the door to do your daily duties.

[promptthebear]

Hi sorry, I don’t rlly know how to request but I hope this makes a bit sense > _ < 👍

🧺Arthur Fleck Joker - Something about Easter, what they would do and would they do hide and seek? Idk surprise us! :3 🙌

Happy Easter too! ✨ 🪺

💐Celebrating Easter with Arthur Fleck 💐

CW: Child abuse, parental neglect, food insecurity.

First off, I can’t imagine that Arthur really celebrated a lot of holidays growing up.

He probably had the typical crafts and class parties at school, which he enjoyed very much, but what would happen at home was kind of a toss up.

If Penny was lucid, and they had the money, I can see her being the type to go all out. Most food bank programs offer special meals or food related to those meals around the holidays. Penny would absolutely take full advantage of that, and do either a turkey or ham dinner with all the fixings.

Arthur remembers these moments fondly, sitting on the couch with a full belly and maybe watching a church service or something on TV while he and his Mom decorate eggs. Having food for days after between the dinner leftovers and the eggs, which for Arthur meant eating like a king at least for awhile.

However, if Penny was having an episode or worse if they were staying with one of her so called “boyfriends?”

Well, in those cases Arthur was lucky if the day passed without ceremony like any other.

Depending on the conditions of their place, Easter could mean he got one less beating on account of the holiday and the closest thing he’d get to dinner was dry crackers and a juice box that he managed to scrounge up from the cupboards, if that.

Arthur doesn’t like thinking about those times too much. It’s just another reminder of all the happiness he missed out on and is desperately trying to bring back into his life.

After meeting and having a relationship with you, he’d probably mention all of this at one point or another when the holidays start coming around.

Even if he’s still living with Penny, or if you have your own place, you’d probably go all out to compensate for his childhood.

You’d probably go as far as to plan an itinerary and a menu, which both confuses and delights Arthur.

Him??? You’re really doing all this for him??? But it’s too much trouble, too much work, at least let him help with the-

Shush baby boy, just relax and let your partner spoil you.

First on the agenda? Special Easter breakfast.

Whether you stay over from Saturday or come early Sunday morning, Arthur is woken up by the smell of pancakes and bacon.

As far as I’m concerned, Easter breakfast is almost as important as Christmas. Especially if you come from a Catholic family and were fasting for lent like mine did sometimes.

Arthur isn’t even off of his sofa bed before you’re putting a heaping plate in his lap.

For a moment, he’d be too stunned to speak. You’d really outdone yourself.

First off, there’s a whole pile of bacon, still steaming hot and cooked to a crisp just how he likes.

“You eat every bite of that, or else.”

It’s not a real threat because you give him a gentle poke in the ribs when you say it. Arthur knows you’re doing it because you care and want him to have a decent meal for once.

Next are the pancakes. Oh my god, the pancakes.

These aren’t your garden variety, maple syrup and butter kind of pancakes.

Like yes, you’ve included those things, but also you’ve gone the extra mile and added in fresh fruit and chocolate chips and even tried to make some into fun shapes.

There’s an “A” shaped one, as well as a bunny with a blueberry eyes and a strawberry nose, and best of all, a clown with banana slice and chocolate chip eyes, a raspberry nose, jam mouth and whipped cream hair.

They’re so pretty Arthur almost doesn’t want to eat them, but does in the end because he doesn’t want you to feel like he doesn’t appreciate it.

Of course, know you’re getting a kiss between each and every bite.

It’s while he’s eating that Arthur also notices the colourful eggs that are stashed around the apartment. He’d look over at you, eyes sparkling with delight and give you a big grin.

“Are we gonna do an egg hunt???”

He can’t remember the last time he’s done an egg hunt, if ever. Even on the good Easters, usually all they did was dye some eggs to eat later since Penny was usually too sick or didn’t have the extra money to commit to an egg hunt.

You’d smile back, and lean down to give Arthur a kiss on the forehead. “Mmm-hmmm, though don’t get too excited. There’s no chocolate in these ones but they’ll lead you to your next surprise”

It’s all Arthur can to do wolf down the last off his food before he’s off like a shot, tearing around the apartment like he’s setting an Olympic record for egg finding.

You love seeing him like this and the way the childlike wonder takes years off his expression and posture. This is Arthur at his most authentic and you want to cherish every second.

You tried to be as creative as possible when hiding the eggs, even in such a small place. There’s six of them in total and Arthur finds them all in about twenty minutes.

Like you said, the eggs don’t contain chocolate but instead are plastic shells that pop open with something inside.

Arthur would spread the contents out on the coffee table and discover that it’s basically a picture puzzle with the pieces cut into horizontal strips.

Immediately, he’s all business. He’d hunch over the coffee table and light a cigarette, his expression one of intense focus.

When you try to help or give him hints, he waves you off, determined to solve this by himself and make the most of your hard work.

So of course, you oblige him. If you’re in the apartment he shares with Penny you’d probably check in on her and make sure she has something to eat, explaining that you and Arthur will be going out for the day.

If it’s a place you and Arthur share by yourselves, then you’d start cleaning up the dishes and the kitchen while he works at the puzzle.

For once the two of you have the chance to bask in peaceful, domestic silence. While you’re excited to do all the activities you planned with Arthur, you know this is what the holidays are really about. Having these quiet moments together where you can just take it slow and not worry about what’s coming next or where you need to be.

You’d just be putting the last of the dishes away when there’s an excited cry from the living room.

You’d poke your head in through the kitchen door to find Arthur, grinning triumphantly around his cigarette with the completed puzzle on the coffee table.

The picture it makes is of Gotham Central Park, specifically the front entrance.

You’d come over to Arthur and lean down to give him another kiss on the forehead.

“Good job babe, you did that so fast! How’d I get lucky enough to get someone who’s handsome and smart?”

Arthur would sit on the couch for a moment, eyes closed and basking in the praise like a cat in a sunbeam.

When he opens his eyes a few seconds later, he’d stub out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray and ask “Are we going right now?”

The way he says it is like a kid asking about Disney world, a little breathless and like he can’t quite bring himself to believe it.

That breaks your heart a little, in spite of the glow in the pit of your stomach.

It’s just a trip to the park. You’ve done it a million times or more with your family over the years, but once again this gives you a glimpse of the kind of life Arthur has had until you came along. Things haven’t been easy for him, and so he takes nothing good for granted, no matter how small.

You’d smile at Arthur and reach down to caress the side of his face with your hand

“Yeah, if you get ready in the next fifteen minutes we could probably make the 9:30 train”

Arthur would all but leap off the couch, grinning wide and with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Before you can react, he’s scooped you up into a massive bear hug that lifts your feet clean off the floor.

He’s squeezing you so tight it hurts a little, but you don’t mind. You squeeze back just as hard.

“Thank you so much for doing this” he’d murmur in your ear “I love you so much”

He’d punctuate that statement with a long, deep kiss where he almost leans you into a dip. He’d taste like smoke with a hint of maple syrup, which makes the warmth in your gut blossom and spread in a pleasant tingle across your body.

When the kiss breaks off you’re flushed, panting and unable to say anything more than a half mumbled “you’re welcome”

[invisibleraven]

cuddles after being touch-starved for Willie / & anyone.

Alex hated his new school-the locker rooms smelled, the food was awful, and all the teachers seemed to hate him. Why oh why did his dad have to land a new job right as he entered middle school?

He missed Astoria, where there were actual trees and forests for him to escape into, LA had nothing but palm trees, and the closest forest was hours away. He missed everyone on the main drag knowing him, never needing to tell the barista his coffee order, goofing off with his friends by the water.

His mom assured him he'd find friends here soon enough, but Alex had his doubts. But Karen Mercer was determined, and thrust him into their new church's youth group, many of the members going to his new school.

It was one such member, Clarisse that took him under her wing at school, telling him what days to avoid the cafeteria food (every day but Tuesdays and Fridays), what caddy was the best for studying, and which one indicated you wanted to get a study room for makeouts, and what kids to avoid.

"Don't touch Willie," she said, pointing out a boy with long dark hair sitting in the cafeteria all by himself, even though many of the tables around him were overfull. "Unless you want to catch The Gay."

Alex knew all about The Gay, as it was, having listened to his parents and their pastors rally against the scourge that was homosexuality. It was part of the reason he hadn't come out yet himself, because part of him hoped that when it came to him, his parents would be accepting, but he had his doubts, so he kept himself secret.

Willie seemed nice though, always smiling, almost too big despite the hatred hurled his way. He was always drawing in a big artist's pad, and his stuff was good. Plus he had a dry wit with some of the teachers that matched Alex's own sarcastic nature. So Alex decided to say screw Clarisse and her judgement, and the next day marched right over to WIllie's table.

"Can I sit here?" he asked.

WIllie looked up, almost startled, like he wasn't used to anyone speaking to him. But then he relaxed, his smile gentling, seeming more genuine. "Sure man, free country."

Alex nodded in thanks, and took a bite of his sandwich, watching as Willie poked at the tuna casserole in front of him as he idly drew what looked to be a sick skull with butterfly wings. "I don't know how you can eat that slop," Alex commented.

Willie shrugged. "I don't have much choice. Foster parents get school meals comped, so that's what I get."

"You want half my sandwich?" Alex offered, holding it out. "Or some of my snacks?"

Willie eyes the treasure trove of food that Alex had, eyes lighting up as he spied a coveted yellow bag. "I'll take your Gushers if you're willing to part with them."

Alex offered the candy-they were his favourite, but he didn't want Willie to suffer through the grey goop on his plate. Their fingers brushed as Willie took the snack, and he shuddered as they did before pulling his hand back. "Thanks." He was quiet for a bit, then finally spoke, though it was barely above a whisper. "I'm not contagious you know, you can' catch being gay, but I'll get it if you don't wanna be around me-I know what they all say."

"I already caught it long ago," Alex replied. "So I'm not worried."

Willie beamed, then popped a Gusher into his mouth, moaning quietly as the sugary sweetness filled his mouth. "Oh I missed these. My last home had all the good snacks, but I aged out of there, and this new one is only in it for the moolah."

"That sucks," Alex replied as he pulled out a bag of Goldfish, extending it to Willie to share them before taking a handful himself. "My folks pack tons, so I'll put in extras for tomorrow."

"You're gonna sit with me tomorrow?" Willie asked.

"Well yeah, us diseased gotta stick together," Alex said.

Every day Alex ate lunch with Willie, ignoring the glares and sneers from the other students. Willie was cool and genuine, unlike all the fakes and posers his mom wanted him to associate with. And just to piss them off, he made a point to touch WIllie as much as possible-casual touches, the same he would have given any of his friends back in Astoria. But Willie soaked each one up like a sponge.

Alex wondered how long it had been since anyone had touched Willie-sure he got shoved and pushed, but in a friendly or loving way. Kids avoided him in the hallway, he confessed his foster parents weren't the warmest, and their other foster kids were much older, too cool for a dorky middle schooler like Willie.

So Alex made it a point to touch Willie even more-giving him hugs at the end of the day, greeting him with a high five, slinging an arm around his shoulder. Every time, Willie blossomed more and more, and began seeking affection from Alex instead of waiting for Alex to offer it first.

Sure they were pariahs, and Alex had gotten more than one lecture from his parents about hanging out with the right sort, but Alex didn't care. Willie was the best friend he'd ever had, and there was no way he was giving him up.

And a few years down the line, when they had added Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn to their little group? Willie was more than just his friend, and Alex had never been gladder that he had taken a chance, regardless of what idiots thought about catching The Gay.

[axailslink]

Can I get a fluff fic of Rosalie and her lover together living a cute little domestic lifestyle with there adopted daughter. 🥹

How does it work?

Rosalie Otterbourne x poc FEM reader

Summary: You and Rosalie's adopted daughter finally gets curious about "love" and you and Rosalie show her the greatest example.

Snippet from the fic: “ "how does love with a woman work?” Beah can see that her question catches you off guard because for a moment you’re stuck and don’t know how to answer having turned your attention to Beah you turn it back to Rosalie who’s a giggling mess and finally you answer “It works like love baby girl." ”

Rosalie can’t help but smile as she wakes to the sound of you and your 14-year-old daughter Beah screaming or as you will always correct singing to Aretha Franklin’s I Never Loved a Man. Rosalie can’t help herself as she hums along catching Beah's attention immediately while you keep your attention on the eggs. Beah grabs Rose’s hand and they both sing to each other causing the biggest smile to spread on your face as you make plates. You feel Rosalie’s hand gently touch your waist as she takes her seat beside you. This usually means she wants your attention so you turn to her and furrow your brows “hm?” Rosalie hums “I want to take yall to the lake tonight after church if y’all are up for it” Beah looks at you with the biggest smile and you reciprocate it “so I get to see you in a wetsuit?” Rosalie rolls her eyes as she eats her food but her small smile says it all and it gives you the answer you want “yes your favorite wetsuit will be present.”

<3 <3 <3 ʀᴏꜱᴀʟɪᴇ ᴏᴛᴛᴇʀʙᴏᴜʀɴᴇ

ǝuɹnoqɹǝʇʇO ǝılɐsoᴚ <3 <3<3

Waiting for Rosalie to get ready to go anywhere has always remade you rethink loving her because what in the hell could possibly take this long? You sigh as you stomp up the stairs hearing whispers between your daughter and lover but when you push the door open they both stop speaking and Rosalie’s holding a hot comb.“I don’t do secrets now this is my house speak up.” Rosalie hums and shakes her head “it’s none of your concern” you glance at Beah who sighs “I like a boy” Rosalie shakes her head in disappointment at just how fast a glare from you can send her spilling everything she does hope she never goes to jail. “Oh, you're too young to be worried about all that he can wait until you’re eighteen and out of my house.” Rosalie sighs and Beah stomps past you not angry just upset while Rosalie glares with her hands on her hips “Really?” you hum not seeing the problem “she thinks she loves the boy don’t be that parent we will not raise our girl like that…” you sigh “I know how little boys think she gone get herself hurt.” Rosalie nods “maybe but we did the same thing did we not? We snuck around and got our first kiss when we were nothing but teenagers. Let's not deprive her of that stupidity. Ok?” Rosalie pecks your lips to ease you into the decision and you kiss back hesitantly before you walk to Beah’s room.

When you open the door Beah’s writing in her journal “you’re probably writing some really mean things about me huh?” her head shoots up and she doesn’t answer she only nods and you sit beside her and glance over “mind reading it to me?” Beah hesitates but you nod assuring her that you won’t get upset by anything she has to say “how come she gets to tell me who I can love and when? She don’t know nothing about love… she lives with her best friend…” you nod “well you don’t know nothing about your mama because I know everything about love there is to know. I know how crazy it can make you. I know how enticing it can be and I know when you can be blinded by it. I just want to save you from the painful part of it.” Beah nods “well I know love” you chuckle and nod at her childishness because if she really knew love she’d know by now that Rosalie is not your best friend.

Rosalie walks in and smiles “can y'all bring y'all so in love asses on? I am craving the feel of that cool lake water on my skin and y'all are taking too long.”

<3 <3 <3 ʀᴏꜱᴀʟɪᴇ ᴏᴛᴛᴇʀʙᴏᴜʀɴᴇ

ǝuɹnoqɹǝʇʇO ǝılɐsoᴚ <3 <3<3

Beah glances at Rosalie and then at you seeing those eyes. Seeing the look you give Rosalie even when she’s not looking, Beah knows it’s never been friendly the glances and the stares. It's always been more than that and she knew deep down she knew and today is just the day of confirmation for her. When you told her earlier you know love she was sure you meant your love for Rosalie but only now as you're staring at Rosalie can she actually see it. She always knew but why question something that seems so normal to you both? She never questioned the one bedroom in your shared room. She never even questioned the absence of men because she was afraid she'd be wrong but seeing as you both are comfortable she has finally decided to ask you “how does love with a woman work?” Beah can see that her question catches you off guard because for a moment you’re stuck and don’t know how to answer having turned your attention to Beah you turn it back to Rosalie who’s a giggling mess and finally you answer “It works like love baby girl.” Beah smiles and nods “how long have you two loved each other?” you hum as you sip your cola “I don’t know I had eyes set on her for a long time and I always thought it was unrequited until well… We were young well younger and she just smiled at me and beckoned me away from the crowd-” you sense Beah’s silence and you pause trying to rethink your thoughts wondering how you can make this age appropriate “-don’t tell your mother I told you this but she had me smitten she grabbed me and just took a chance she kissed me and one thing led to another-” you smile as you conjure up the past thoughts of how Rosalie wasn’t as confident as she is now and how she was so nervous but you reassured her that her feelings and thoughts were reciprocated as you pulled her to you close and kissed her again. Beah watches as you reminisce and the sound of her voice brings you back to the present day “oh so it was that kind of night?” you laugh but stop remembering you’re speaking to your daughter “alright alright stay in a child's place. Mind your own.” Beah smiles and you shake your head as Rosalie swims back to the boat questioning the laughing between you two. “I’d like to know what’s funny” you glance at Beah who glances at Rosalie “our beautiful Beah got me to spill about our first kiss I got a little flushed” Rosalie smiles now and hums “and did you tell her about what else happened that night?” you cock your head unsure if that’s something you should talk about in front of your daughter but Rosalie laughs “not that. You are no better than a man is that all you think about? I was talking about how you cried afterward on your knees and told me how bad you’d been waiting for that.”

The gasp that leaves your mouth has Beah shaking and laughing so much that she falls out of the boat and into the cold lake water splashing everywhere causing you and Rosalie to laugh now. When Beah comes back up she’s gasping for air and panicking but Rosalie holds her up by her arms. “Calm down” Beah shakes her head as she reaches her hand to her freshly hot combed hair ready to throw the most heinous fit “damnit.” you and Rosalie glance at each other as you dip your hand in the water and splash her in her face which only pisses her off more causing her to drag you into the water drenching your gown and hair “cry baby” Beah scoffs “mom do I have permission to drown her?” Rosalie glances at you both as she gently pushes the boat away “you're thinking about it?" Rosalie smiles to herself "hold on" she grabs hold of you and for the first time you both kiss in front of your daughter. For the first time, you're not hiding behind some door or looking around the corner, you both kiss right where you are, and just like the first time she has you weak.

Beah looks away out of respect "oh so that's love?" You hum as Rosalie pulls away and licks her lips "yeah it goes a little something like that."

A/n: I completely forgot I never finished this so what am I doing when I should be sleeping and getting ready for work? Working on a fanfic. Anyways enjoy and if you would like to be on my taglist send me a message or comment.

Taglist:

@verachii

@mocha-aya

@shuriszn

@lolas-bunny

@lucillele

@shuri-lover

@quintessencewrites

@yamsthoughts

@saintwrld

@lunax0654

@karimwillia

@adeola-the-explorer

@garbagesleepschedule

@bratydoll

@trixielwt

@6-noir

@annoyingtidalwavequeen

@atssukoo

@shuri-my-love

@inmyheadimobsessed

@letitias-fav

@rxcently

@iwillbiteabitch

@malltake12

@mxyx-rx444

@kiwidreamersstuff

@secretgyals

@shurisnewbabymomma

@darkangelchronicles

@writesbyriri

@locoforshuri

@mbakuetshurisprincess

@sleepyshuri

@prinxeali

[ghostboneswrites2]

Doe Eyes - CH14 - We’re In.

Chapter List

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Spoilers, Character death

Masterlist // Taglist

        Rick and the others returned with a large haul of canned food. There was a sort of feast that night, everyone filling plates like it was a buffet. You sat near Carol and Daryl in the pews, digging into your canned carrots and green beans.

        "That's all you got?" Carol asked you, giving you a funny look.

        "I don't like beans and canned meat freaks me out." You admitted. She laughed.

        "All things considered and you're afraid of canned meat?"

        "Not afraid!" You laughed. "Just isn't appetizing." 

        "There were some peas up there, I think." She said.

        "Ew." You scrunched your nose.

        "You're pickier than my daughter was." She shook her head, chuckling as she took a bite.

        "You had a daughter?" You asked.

        "Yeah. I did. She was the sweetest thing, but she was a picky eater. Just like you." She lamented.

        "I'm sorry she isn't here anymore. I would've loved to meet her." You consoled.

        "It's good that she isn't." Carol nodded. "She didn't need to go through all the things we have."

        "She would've been fine." Daryl said. "Would've been kickin' ass like the rest of us."

        "Yeah, maybe, but that wouldn't have been her. She shouldn't have to do that." Carol sighed. She didn't seem sad, she seemed at peace, but still, you didn't know how to respond. You never had a kid, let alone experienced that kind of loss. 

        "I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham spoke up at the front of the church, grabbing everyone's attention. "I look around this room, and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors." He said, raising his glass.

        "To the survivors!" You all said, toasting back.

        "Is that all you wanna be?" Abraham continued. "Wake up in the mornin', fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you can do that. I mean, you got the strength, you got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender. Now, we get Eugene to Washington, he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And, that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip. Eugene, what's in D.C.?"

        Eugene cleared his throat.

        "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart." Eugene replied.

        "However this plays out, however long it takes for the restart button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us. Save the world for that little one. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who don't got nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham added.

        "What was that?" Rick asked Judith as she cooed and babbled. "I think she knows what I'm about to say. If she's in, I'm in. We're in."

----

        Carol had disappeared, so you and Daryl decided to go see what she was doing. Daryl said he had a feeling where she'd snuck off to, and sure enough he was right where he thought he'd find her, by some old car. She had it turned on and gassed up when you got there.

        "What're you doin'?" Daryl asked as the two of you stepped out of the brush.

        "I don't know." Carol admitted.

        There was the sound of an engine in the distance, and Daryl pulled the two of you down behind the back of the car. The three of you watched a car zoom by on the street that ran perpendicular to the road you were on. Daryl sprinted over and watched as it drove on. He ran back and started smashing the tail lights off the car Carol had found.

        "What are you doing?!" She yelled.

        "They got Beth!" He said. "C'mon. Get in!"

        And with that, the three of you piled into the car, Daryl in the driver's seat, Carol riding passenger, and you in the center of the back seat so you'd have a clear view. 

        You guys followed the car for a while, making small talk along the way.

        "So it was just you two and Beth after?" Carol asked.

        "Yeah." Daryl said.

        "You saved her?" She wondered.

        "She's tough." You said. "She saved herself."

        "We were out there for a while." Daryl continued. "We got cornered, she got out in front of us and I don't know.. She was just gone."

        "We came out of the trees and a car was pulling away with a white cross on the window." You added.

        "Just like that one?" She asked.

        "Yup." Daryl nodded.

        "Rick's gonna wonder where we went." You said.

        "Tank's runnin' low." Daryl sighed.

        "We can end this quick, just run them off the road." Carol suggested.

        "Nah, we're good for a bit." Daryl shook his head.

        "If they're holding her somewhere we can get it out of the driver." She said.

        "Yeah, but what if he doesn't talk?" You asked.

        "Then we're back to square one."  Daryl replied. "Right now we got the advantage. We'll see who they are, if they're a group, and what they can do. And then we'll do what we gotta do to get her back."

        "They're heading north." Carol observed. "I-85."

        You could see Atlanta off in the distance, the outline of the cityscape looming in the dark. Whoever you were following was unaware of your presence because Daryl kept the headlights off. He followed them into the city, creeping around each turn. He pulled to a stop when they did, a few building lengths behind them to maintain cover.

        "The hell is he waitin' for?" He wondered aloud. A man exited the passenger side of the car. "There's two of 'em."

        "Is that a cop?" You asked, gripping the small pistol in your belt. Carol seemed to have the same idea, pulling a silvery revolver from her waistline. 

        "Maybe they've seen us." She suggested.

        The man rounded the corner of the building they parked beside, walking out of view. The three of you waited in silence. A walked slapped Carol's window, hissing at the meal he it couldn't reach. She jumped and let out a breath, but you all ultimately ignored it. The cop came back, dropping two bicycles down on the corner of the street. He was dragging something into the street when he noticed the walker clawing at Carol's window.. He took a double take, probably wondering what the walker was clawing for.

        Daryl went to start the car when the officer got back into the passenger seat, but it wouldn't start.

        "Aw, shit." He said. "Tank's tapped. They'd have taken the bypass and they didn't. They must be holed up in the city somewhere."

        "Must be a load of fuckin' psychos. Who the hell would want to stay here? This place is infested." You commented.

        Over in the distance, you could see walkers slowly emerging from the darkness, probably drawn by the lights and sound of the engine.

        "We gotta move." Daryl said.

        "We could find a place to hole up until sunlight." You suggested.

        "I know a place." Carol said. "It's just a couple blocks from here. We can make it."

        She rolled her window down and stabbed the walker outside and the three of you made a run for it. It was mostly smooth sailing to the hideout she talked about. You and Carol took down walkers as they approached while Daryl worked on breaking into the building as quietly as possible.

        "Come on." Daryl called to the two of you as you paused walker slaying. Carol froze as if she heard something before the two of you ran inside. The place was mostly clear, any walkers were already taken down. Daryl took some keys off of one that was against the wall, and you guys held up in a small office.

        "You used to work here or something?" He asked.

        "Something." She replied.

        She took the keys from Daryl and led you two through another door within the office. The next room had some bunkbeds and other random things. 

        "What is this place?" You asked.

        "Temporary housing." She answered. You looked down to a table by the bunks and saw a thick book labeled 'Treating Survivors of Childhood Abuse'. 

        "You came here?" Daryl inquired, looking at the same book.

        "We didn't stay." She said. He set his crossbow on the table.

        "I'll take the top bunk." Carol announced, setting her weapons up top and climbing up. 

        You and Daryl looked at each other. You shrugged. "You can bunk with me." You smirked. He huffed a breathy chuckle and shook his head.

        "It's alright." He shook his head.

        "C'mon. I'm real cuddly." You urged.

        "Jesus, get a room, you two." Carol rolled her eyes before she laid down.

        Daryl studied you before he sighed, taking off his vest and his jacket. You set your gun down on the table by his bow. You thought about your crowbar and wondered if you could find a new one in the city while you were there. There was bound to be one laying around somewhere, and you never got yours back from Terminus. 

        "You two should sleep. I'll keep first watch." Carol said as she sat up and slid off the bunk, walking over to a window.

        "Place is locked up pretty tight." You said.

        "I know." She replied.

        "So we're good then." Daryl added.

        "I'll keep first watch." She insisted. "I don't mind."

        You and Daryl shrugged and got ready to sleep. You crawled on the bottom bunk and scooted close to the wall in case Daryl decided to take you up on your offer. 

        You were surprised to feel the weight on the bed shift as he laid down. You thought he'd probably take Carol's bunk until she laid down. 

        "Now we can stink up the mattress together." You joked. You didn't realize how tired you were until he laid down next to you. 

        "Whatever, it'll be your stench soakin' into the sheets, not mine." He fired back.

        "Oh, please. You smell like trees and dead squirrels."

        "Mm. Better than onions and dead bodies."

        You kicked his leg with the side of your foot.

        "Just the onions, thank you very much." You scoffed.

        "Nah. Your nose just got so used to it you can't smell it no more." He teased.

        "Whatever, Dixon." You sighed as you rolled over.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Terrarium Lights 3.4

Previously on Terrarium Lights: Gail got plot-twisted and now she's trying to do something to help about it. (Next part >>here)

Most of the other customers had already moved on, so the café was largely empty by the time Gail made it in.

Mrs. Mary Seward saw her as she came in, and waved at her.

They knew each other due to the annual festival held at the lighthouse, and because the Sewards had recently started attending Gail's church—though perhaps it was better to say that they were familiar with each other rather than knew each other. They had talked some, and were vaguely filled in on each others' circumstances, but they were little more than pleasant acquaintances who got along well at after-church lunches.

As such, Gail was both surprised and unsurprised that Mrs. Seward came out to serve her personally, instead of the worker that… did not seem to be there at the moment, actually. Odd. They typically made a point to employ some of the youngsters from the surrounding area.

"How are you doing, Mrs. Goffrey?" she said cordially, pulling a pad of paper out of the front of her apron and smiling pleasantly.

"The good Lord made the sun," Gail replied, sitting down at a hopefully private table further in the corner, "and it's shining as it ought. So I reckon I'm doing well. How about yourself?"

"Busy," Mrs. Seward laughed. "We've had to cut down on some of the days we have extra hands about the place, so it's a bit heavier on us. But business is good. Speaking of which, anything I can get you?"

"One coffee, please," Gail said, "black, no sugar. And if you have any fruit pastries, I think that would go with it well."

"Coming right up," Mrs. Seward confirmed, jotting down things on her pad. She whisked herself away to the kitchen, and left Gail to wonder how on Earth she was going to be able to learn what she needed to. Over-thinking was something she took pains to avoid, but at this precise moment it looked more like she hadn’t done any thinking at all. Another prayer, it seemed, would be in order.

Beside her, she noticed that Samuel had made his appearance, materializing through the doorway as if he had just walked in. He waved at her tentatively, then stuck his hands in his pockets.

Gail nodded at one of the other seats at her (admittedly) small table. Inwardly, she wondered how well she'd manage to deal with a sensitive conversation to someone she didn’t know very well, plus an involved spectator that only she could, but well, it would be rude not to invite him. Besides, it would rather cut down on time (and an elaborate game of mailcarrier) if he could just hear what was going on, himself, and not rely on her second-hand summaries.

He hovered near the table but didn't take a seat.

The last customer (presumably belonging to the one remaining gearmount out front) carried their cup and plate to the kitchen counter, and left with a merry jingling of the café bell.

It wasn't long before Mrs. Seward returned with one of her fruit dumplings and a cup of steaming coffee.

"There you go," she said, sliding the plate onto the table. "Made fresh this afternoon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Seward," Gail replied. The smell of warm dough and fruit—mango, she'd guess—mingling with the strong, bitter smell of the coffee struck her stomach with the force of realization: she hadn't brought any extra food, and she was hungry after having walked this far. "It looks delicious."

Mrs. Seward smiled politely. "Thank you."

Gail patted the table, indicating the seat across from her. "Sit, get off your feet a bit. There aren't any other customers here, and if any new ones come in, you'll see them fine."

Mrs. Seward hesitated.

"How about this," Gail said, "I order one more of the dumplings, and you get a snack out of it, too."

Mrs. Seward coughed a surprised laugh. "I couldn't take your money for food for me to eat in my own café."

"Nonsense," Gail retorted. "I couldn't ask you to sit and share your valuable time with me and not reimburse you fairly. We don't get time to talk often, and I haven't had much opportunity for socialization or chatting with Michael gone."

"Well…" Mrs. Seward sighed. "I suppose that's true. And if I need to get up and working, I'll be able to get back on my feet right quick."

"Of course. I wouldn’t dream of keeping you longer that you’d want."

Mrs. Seward’s smile felt less polite and more genuine. "I'll be just a second."

Gail exerted a great deal of self-control and did not scarf down the entirety of the (thankfully large) dumpling before Mrs. Seward got back.

"Ahhhh." Mrs. Seward sank down into the seat opposite, thin cheeks flushed from the warmth of the ovens in the kitchen. "I will admit, sitting down does feel nice."

"You seem to be quite hard at work," Gail agreed. "Why are the part-timers off-duty?"

"We're needing to save a bit more money just now," Mrs. Seward said, slicing into the dumpling neatly.

Gail was already several forkfulls ahead of her. "Oh? Is the lighthouse not doing so well? Repairs of some kind?"

"No, all of that's going well," she said. Now that she was sitting down and eating, her early reticence had dissipated. "Something else happened that is quite a miracle, so I'm very grateful for it, though at this exact moment it's a bit difficult."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's all a bit strange, but a close friend of my son's showed up again after having gone missing for six years, and we've been needing to pay the doctor to be here regular, since he hasn't woken up for the past three or so weeks."

Gail nearly spat out her coffee. Apparently, she had not needed to be concerned about information.

It, belatedly, occurred to Gail that if something big and surprising had happened—such as a young man appearing at the lighthouse one day—she would likely have had more trouble avoiding the topic than not. She bit down onto her fork with enthusiasm and general gratitude.

Wait.

"Your son?"

"You’re familiar with the annual remembrance festival, right?" Mrs. Seward replied, giving her a quizzical look.

"Well, yes," Gail replied. "We've only been attending since a few years ago, but yes. A festival of remembrance for those lost at sea, and for those brought home again, right?"

Mrs. Seward chuckled a bit, taking a delicate bite of her neatly sliced up dumpling. "Well, it actually isn't specified where they were lost. Your son was lost at sea, though, wasn't he?"

"Aye. David."

"We lost our son six years ago, but it was under unknown circumstances. The next year we wanted to give something back to the community that helped us through such a difficult time, so, in honor of him and those around us who we knew who had also suffered losses, we started the festival of remembrance."

"O-oh." Gail found she didn't have much of an answer.

"But, well, we still haven't found our son. We may never." She pushed her fork slowly into the dumpling, contemplating it. "But, again, we never thought we'd find his friend again, either, so there may be hope yet."

Previous

Next