#i-i wanted to be funny but like i thought it would be nice to do this seriously too

[1d1195]

Pucking Rookie V

Read Pucking Rookie here | ~5.9k words

From me: this is almost entirely a filler episode.

Warnings: fluff. nauseating fluff. Jealous MC. Cute vulnerable moments.

Summary: Harry is determined to break her walls down even if he has to do it slowly.

Harry didn’t force her to move out (yet) even though he wanted her to. But he spent a lot more time on the bad side of town now that he beat up Kael. Michael ogled over the pretty car he left with her. “If you don’t sleep with him, I will,” he muttered around a drag of his cigarette when she first parked it in front of their building.

“Get in line!” Marc shouted from the doorway waiting for her to enter.

She rolled her eyes. Fortunately, Harry was a few minutes behind her, so he didn’t hear their crass thoughts. “Great game, man,” Michael nodded.

“Yeah! You were close to getting a shirt-trick!”

Harry chuckled, putting his hand on her lower back as she covered her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me, Marc. It’s a hat-trick.”

“Close enough,” he shrugged.

“It’s not—”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry laughed and nudged her forward cutting her off from rebuking Marc. Harry liked the guys in her apartment well enough, but he wanted her to himself in the privacy of the apartment that smelled just like her. In whatever way he could have her, which meant just being friends.

When they got to her place, she went to her dresser and pulled out a set of clothes and headed for the bathroom without another word. Harry looked through the photos spread on her counter. The same ones from her series that she was already insisting on would never be.

He looked through the other photos too. The ones on the fridge and wall (his still centered right above the water and ice dispenser) her talent was incredible. He heard the shower turn on and then the door opened immediately. “Do you want to shower?” She asked tossing her clothes in the hamper. Instead of her normal rink outfit, she was wearing a pair of leggings and T-shirt.

“With you? Of course, Rookie,” he didn’t look up because he knew that line of thinking was dangerous, and he didn’t want her to get mad at him. She snorted.

“Go,” she rolled her eyes with a sigh. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek sloppily. “Gross you’re all sweaty!” She shoved him.

“Manly,” he tugged his sweatshirt off and tossed it at her.

While Harry showered, she busied herself making tea and organizing items for tomorrow. She knocked on the door to give Harry a set of sweats he left the last time he was over. “Y’joining me?” He asked excitedly.

“Leaving clothes for you to change in to,” she opened the door briefly and set them on the sink counter without looking inside.

“Break m’heart, Rookie,” he sighed and continued showering.

She shook her head with a smirk. Harry was funny, adorable, sexy, and sweet in a way that should have been illegal because it was just not fighting fair. She wasn’t going to fall in love with another hockey player. Not one that was one of the top names in the league. Instead, she admired the pictures she took of him. How handsome he looked, the defined jawline, the way his hair curled with sweat. His smile, the dimples. “Hey Rookie, do y’have deodorant in here?”

Oh God, this was too domestic. She should have suggested driving to his place. At least there she had her own guest room to create a boundary. Albeit an arbitrary, dumb boundary that did next to nothing. “In the drawer beneath the sink,” she answered.

She shivered slightly in her freezing apartment but refused to turn the heat on. She grabbed the sweatshirt on the back of the couch to put on over her T-shirt. The tea was almost ready, and Harry exited the bathroom. He came around silently and tugged the hem of the sweatshirt. “Looks nice on you,” he mumbled and smoothed his hand down her back. She didn’t realize she had grabbed the very sweatshirt Harry had tossed at her. She shivered again and stepped away from him.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” His smile was anything but innocent.

She shook her head and elbowed him out of her way, before heading to the couch with her cup of tea. Harry followed her with his own cup of tea. He pulled her legs into his lap, placed a blanket on top of them, and then ran his hand up and down her shin. “Y’know, Rookie, y’don’t have t’make all these boundaries. M’not going t’push you.”

“They’re for me,” she reminded him and focused on finding a show to watch before she inevitably fell asleep on the sofa.

“I know,” he sighed and sipped his own drink. His hair was still damp, and his soft curls fell a little awkwardly around his pretty face. “But m’not gonna hurt you... Would rather die than hurt you,” he gave her leg a squeeze.

“I know,” she mumbled.

He grinned. “Good. M’glad y’know that. That makes me happy.”

With the show selected, she set her tea on the coffee table and shifted in her spot. “I think the Wolves might be the most chauvinistic, most terrible team in the league,” she reached for a throw pillow, rotated until her head laid in his lap. He put one hand on her side and rubbed it gently.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She yawned and sighed. “You smell good.”

“S’your deodorant,” he reminded her.

“I know, that’s why you smell good.”

He chuckled, shook his head, and sipped his tea again.

*

The team took up the entire airport bar. Or at least most of the team. Callie and Asher were among the hungover from the night before, so that group stayed at the gate with their eyes closed. They were within view of the bar so at least there wouldn’t be any issues, and the rest of the team could jump at a moment’s notice to help them out. She was seated beside Lang and showing him the pictures she took of last night's game. They were heading back home after a three-day stint going through a series of away games in the same vicinity the first. The guys were exhausted from traveling and only getting to a hotel for no more than one night at a time. All that travel, with all their stuff, was exhausting. She was exhausted too. A lot of the media posts needed to be out each night by a certain time. Submissions for the news outlets had to be in by midnight for the following morning. She felt tired and hadn’t even strained her body the way they had. As such, she didn’t have a drink at the bar, merely some coffee to try and get her mind to work a little faster for the plane trip home.

She sat on one leg to lean over Lang while looking at the photos on her camera screen.

“Hey Sweetheart, do you want a drink?” Niall called a ways down the bar. She shook her head.

“Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure? Harry’s buying!”

“Oh yeah?” She smiled and looked at number eleven with a grin. “Lose a bet?”

He rolled his eyes. “If y’want a drink m’paying,” he shrugged. She wondered if he would pay for her just because (even if he didn't lose a bet)

“I’ll take you up on that.”

Her head snapped up unwillingly. A pretty girl stood beside Harry’s seat. She had long hair that didn’t have a single strand popping off her scalp in a mess of frizz. Her smile was stunning, practically blindingly beautiful. Her makeup was flawless and expertly applied. She didn’t look exhausted from days of travel. She garnered the attention of every pair of eyes on the team.

Including hers.

“Oh... hi,” Harry said standing quickly. “Do y’want t’sit?” He asked.

Her chest flamed with jealousy. She looked back at her camera and sat on the seat hoping to make herself smaller beside Lang. Thankful for the big hockey player beside her and he blocked most of the visual of their interaction. If only Callie and Asher were sitting beside her too so she wouldn’t have to hear them talk. Although she imagined even if they were around her making their jokes, they too would have been stunned to silence by the beautiful woman sitting by Harry.

“He doesn’t like her,” Lang murmured quietly in her ear. She felt a flare of hope warm her body. Then the doubt took over, she shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugged hoping her voice didn’t betray her with how shitty it felt. In an attempt to distract herself further, she put her camera back in the bag. “He’s not mine.”

Lang snorted, then chuckled under his breath. “Sure Sweetheart, sure.”

At that moment her phone vibrated, which supplied her with the distraction she needed from feeling like shit watching Harry. Do you want me to boot and rally to flirt with you? Make Harry jealous?

No thank you, Callie. That seems like a bad idea. For a lot of reasons.

I do nt meed to rhrrow uyp. I c sann f;lirt. with yoou righht n ow. I kjust ca nt open m. y eeyes m. uch.

Thank you Asher, that’s alright. It’s not a big deal. He can flirt with whoever he wants.

You know he WANTS to flirt with you, right?

She didn’t respond to Callie because it was just making her grumpy to think about it. “Hey Sweetheart, are you still going to the little convenience store? Can you grab me something to read for the flight?” Niall asked. She was too tired to think about moving but she was grateful for another attempted distraction. Harry was clearly engrossed in his conversation with the pretty woman. At least he was kind to speak quietly.

“Yeah, I was just going,” she stood up and reached in her purse to pay for her coffee. “It’s all set, Sweetheart,” Lang assured her. He took her camera bag off her shoulder. “I’ll watch this with my life. Just go,” he winked.

“Thanks Cap,” she smiled.

“Ugh, Styles is a lucky man,” he grumbled as he hoisted the bag on his shoulder.

She scurried away feeling infinitely better as she walked further away from the pretty woman and the equally pretty hockey player. There was no right to feel jealous. Harry wasn’t her boyfriend. He didn’t owe her anything. He could talk to any woman he wanted, and it didn’t have to affect her.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t affect her.

She was looking at books for Niall hoping to find something she would want to read in case he didn’t like her fake selection. Then she moved onto the snacks looking for a way to eat the emotions she was feeling. Stupid Harry and his stupid pretty face. She couldn’t even blame the woman because Harry was so pretty it seemed inhumane to not flirt with him. She was the weird one. Not letting him in and not letting him be her boyfriend because why? She was stubborn. Didn’t want to get hurt again.

Harry wouldn’t hurt her, right? Not intentionally. Granted she never really imagined Kael hurting her either. Not cheating on her, anyway.

The exhaustion was getting to her. Her mind spinning aimlessly trying to make sense of her own thoughts seemed next to impossible. Harry was handsome, charming, talented, and overall perfect. Of course, a woman he knew would flirt with him because he was in town. They didn’t have a game the next day, maybe he would stay.

“Rookie.”

She continued looking at snacks, picking up the chocolate covered pretzels that were so overpriced she wouldn’t have gotten them even if she was starving. But her jealous heart wanted chocolate. “Oh hi,” she mumbled. “Do you want something?”

“No, Rookie,” he came over to her and put a hand on her back. It felt warm and safe, and she practically melted into his touch instantly. “Are y’alright?”

She nodded. “Course. I’m just tired.”

“Are y’sure?”

“Why would anything be wrong, Harry?”

He pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Y’got up in a hurry.”

“Mm... well, the flight’s going to be boarding soon. We should probably get back actually,” she turned for the register.

“Rookie,” his voice was gentle.

“Anything else?” The cashier asked.

“That’s it,” she tapped her phone to the payment kiosk, but it declined. Of course. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the ceiling. Pain behind her eyes started to ensue. From unshed tears or a coming headache, she wasn’t sure. Either way she sighed deeply, hoping the ground would swallow her whole.

“Here, I have it—”

“Harry, stop it.”

“Rookie, just let me pay for it so we can go back—”

“Forget it,” she abandoned all her items and headed back for the gate.

“Rookie, Jesus!” He shouted. She was already half way back to the gate before he caught up to her (the bag of items she left behind surely paid for by him in hand). Some of the team was already boarding. She grabbed her camera from Lang without so much as pausing and cut the front of the line (not that anyone minded), and headed down the tunnel to the plane. “Rookie, stop it,” he grumbled.

Callie had a seat open next to him, his head resting against the wall beside the closed window and she flopped into the seat beside him. He opened one eye briefly and smiled. “Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Get out of this row,” Harry snapped. His voice was closer but slightly out of breath. He must have been hustling down the boarding bridge and she felt bad because sure, she was mad (not even at him) but he was tired too.

“Harry, I’m not—”

“Not you. Callie, get up.”

“Harry, he’s not feeling wel—”

“He’s fine. Calloway.”

“Styles, I’m going to throw up,” he moaned.

“And she’s not taking care of y’the whole flight. Get up.”

Callie groaned and hauled himself out of the seat into another empty row a couple seats behind. Almost instantly, she tried to get out of the row but once Callie passed, Harry blocked her. “Sit down, Rookie,” he ordered.

“Quit being so bossy—”

He didn’t move. Eventually she sighed, and Harry waited until she was seated in Callie’s now empty seat. Harry sat beside her almost triumphantly. She fiddled with her seat settings and air settings all while ignoring Harry. “Rookie,” he said sweetly. “C’mon Rookie, talk t’me.”

“About what, Harry?” she rubbed her eyes. “I’m exhausted. You’re exhausted. Just let me sleep on your hard, uncomfortable shoulder so I can complain more when we land.”

Harry sighed, shook his head. “Here’s your bag of stuff,” he plopped it on her tray table.

“Thank you,” she mumbled and sorted it quickly. She tucked the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels that she knew she put back before Harry got there into the back of the seat in front of her. “Niall,” she called quietly.

“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His voice came from in front of her and she tapped on the shoulder of the person in front of her.

“I think you’ll like that one,” she told him as the book was passed forward.

“Sounds good, Sweetheart, thank you!”

She had no idea why he was thanking her when he was the one that had her go get the book as a distraction from the jealousy she was feeling. She ignored Harry’s stare, warm on the side of her face while she got settled. Harry put the neck pillow around him and pulled a blanket from his carry-on before clipping himself into his seat.

The pair of them sat in silence during the safety demonstration and the takeoff information. She gripped the arm rest tight as they took off and Harry gently pried her fingers from the plastic and cupped her hand in his. Softly he squeezed it and brought it to his lips to give the back of her knuckles a kiss. Her heart softened and she felt idiotic for feeling so jealous. Tears pricked her eyes overwhelmed with too many emotions that didn’t make sense, all exacerbated by how tired she was.

Quietly, she sniffled. So softly that she didn’t think Harry had heard it even though her head now rested on his muscular shoulder that wasn’t like a pillow at all. The hum of the plane’s engines surely drowned out any emotion she was feeling and therefore any noise she was making. But after a moment, Harry carefully coaxed her head down until her ear rested against his heart. The arm near her draped around her and his lips brushed softly against her earlobe. With the other hand he pulled the neck pillow from him and dropped it to his lap to keep her propped up.

“Rookie,” he hummed quietly into her ear. “I don’t like her. I would never want t’make y’jealous. Y’know that. I cut all that stuff off,” he reminded her. “M’sorry you were upset. I was only being polite and nothing more. M’sorry we’re both tired,” his voice was so quiet and warm. It ached her in a way couldn’t describe all over her tired body. “You’re the only woman I think ‘bout, Rookie. Y’have nothing t’be jealous of whether we’re a couple or not,” he promised. “M’gonna wait as long as y’need,” tears spilled from her eyes because his reassurance was so sweet and so unnecessary. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve some hot hockey player to denounce all women for her. They weren’t a couple, and he shouldn’t have to worry about making her jealous. She sniffled a little louder. “Don’t cry, Rookie. Y’breaking m’heart,” his other hand found her cheek and brushed his thumb along her skin until it wiped away a tear or two.

“She was so pretty, Harry.”

“You’re beautiful, Bunny.”

“She doesn’t look poor.”

“Money isn't anything.”

“She looked like she belonged with you.”

“You are the one I want.”

Her lip trembled and she tried to keep the tears from breaking out further into a loud, noisy sob that would make the whole team wonder what was happening to her. “Go to sleep, Bunny. I got you,” he promised quietly. His fingers combed softly at her hair and not even the thought of her uncle seeing her snuggled in Harry’s lap was enough to move her from her comfy spot.

“I won’t have anything to complain about if I don’t lay on your shoulder,” she whispered, covering the small sniffle with her words.

Harry chuckled. “M’sure you’ll find something t’complain ‘bout, Rookie.”

*

It was a rare weekend that the team didn’t have any games. It was the perfect weekend for working a double at Louis’ on Friday and Saturday. Friday went off without a hitch, she made great tips, the guys kept her entertained, and she didn’t feel utterly exhausted when she got home at two in the morning.

Harry came in on Saturday right around four when the second half of her shift was starting. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys were having a watch party of the games or something.” She quirked an eyebrow at him and scanned him briefly as he was dressed much too nicely for The Locker Room.

“Come with me,” he smiled and tilted his head toward the exit.

She snorted. “Very kidnappy of you, Styles. I’m working,” she rolled her eyes delivering drinks to the table in front of her. “Not all of us have a talent that makes millions of dollars a year.”

“Harry Styles,” the man at the table gaped as she set the drink down.

Harry waved and nodded at the fan but continued following her. Harry chuckled. “I already told Louis m’taking you.”

“But the tips tonight, Harry. I won’t—”

“I will pay you myself, Rookie. Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Why are you dressed like that? It’s not game day.” He glanced down at his all-black outfit. Button down, suit coat, slacks, and shoes. “I’m not going on a date with you,” she said.

“I’ll go!” A woman called from nearby. She huffed out and rolled her eyes. Harry chuckled at his favorite jealous lady.

“Don’t remind me, but s’not a date, Rookie. Jus’ come with me. S’a surprise.”

“I can’t go in this uniform.”

“If y’make more of a fuss y’won’t have time t’change. M’trying t’get y’home with enough time t’put on something more upscale.”

“I don’t have upscale clothes, Harry. Not anymore. I had to sell most of them.”

Harry figured as much. When the team had fancier events, she had one dress that she wore, it was stunning and made her look like a princess. It was a royal blue that made the flush of her skin look utterly intoxicating, but as such it didn’t take long for Harry to notice it might be the only dress she had for fancy events. “I bought you something.”

“Well, now I really don’t want to go.”

“You’re a piece of work, Rookie,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Can y’jus come with me?”

She paused slightly at the bar as she got a tray of water situated for the next table. “Is it super expensive?” She asked, leaning against the bar.

“I got it on sale—almost killed me. I was told I could return it even if y’wear it,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“What color?”

“Black, so we match. And everyone will know you’re with me.”

“You’re possessive,” she shook her head. But her cheeks felt warm knowing how much she liked the idea.

“Only ‘bout you, Rookie,” he winked. “C’mon.”

*

Harry hurried to her side of the car and helped her out of the seat. The dress fit her perfectly. It didn’t quite touch the floor and hugged her like a second skin. She was gorgeous before she put on the dress. There wasn’t a word to describe how she looked with it on. Harry was nearly speechless as he handed his keys to the valet, and they approached the building. “Styles,” he told the man at the door. He checked them off a list and were ushered inside.

“What is this?” She asked.

Harry shrugged and held his arm out for her to take. Fortunately, she did. “Jus’ something I saw, thought y’would want t’see,” he steered her toward the entrance to the room on the right of the entry way. A line of people meandered as they walked into the spacious venue. A man at the threshold offered them each a glass of wine, Harry handed one to her and then held his own.

“Is this... a gallery?” She blinked.

“Yes,” he smiled. “I saw an event for it on Instagram. I figured we had the night off,” he shrugged.

She smiled. “That’s really sweet, thank you Harry. This is nice,” she admitted and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Harry was grateful that she liked his surprise. “I think I’m not quite up to snuff. My hair and makeup should have been a little bit... more done up for this place.”

“Y’look perfect, Rookie. Seriously. Prettier than all the art on the walls,” he winked at her. She laughed softly and shook her head at him. “Tell me ‘bout the stuff y’see. I like art, but m’not sure what m’supposed to be seeing,” he murmured to her.

Harry could feel her grinning beside him. She was so pretty in her element. She was gorgeous all dolled up, but Harry really did prefer her in his jersey. Or even her regular rink outfit. That’s where he thought she was prettier than anything else. “Another lesson?” She asked.

“Think y’owe me one for the skating lessons, yeah? I know how t’make hot chocolate now.”

“You can see whatever you want to see, Harry. That’s the beauty of art. It’s individualized.”

“Yeah... but I know there’s supposed t’be a purpose—artist intent or whatever, right?” He may have Googled some lingo over the last couple days in anticipation of taking her. She smirked.

“Yes...” she smiled. “Alright, but you have to tell me what you see before I give you the lowdown,” she shrugged.

The place was filled with beautiful art. Photos, paintings, sculptures. There was a multitude of media and an abundance of people. There was a quiet humming from people milling about. If Harry received any stares from being recognized, he didn’t acknowledge them. For a while it was just the two of them, eating small yummy hors d’oeuvres, sipping wine, and giggling quietly about the artwork.

“What’s your favorite so far?” She asked.

As the night wore on, Harry continued to fall harder and harder for how passionate she was about all things art. The way she spoke about photos, color, angles, and perspective had him in awe. She was so interesting. Undeniably knowledgeable. The way she viewed a painting in multiple ways at once was fascinating.

“Oh, I don’t know, Rookie. There’s so much talent here. M’not sure I could choose. What’s yours?”

“I loved the beachscapes over there,” she tilted her head toward the other side of the room where a series of photos capturing the same spot of a beach over the course of a year lined a section of the wall. “The beach is so pretty.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Are you hungry for more than these little bites?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Always, Rookie. Y’don’t have t’kid ‘bout that.”

She smirked. “We could stop and get takeout on the way home?” She offered.

He nodded with a smile. “Are you having fun?” He asked.

“Tons, thank you. This is really lovely.”

Harry smiled proudly. “Y’know, Rookie, love, y’should work in a museum giving tours.”

She smirked sadly. “It doesn’t pay well, but that would be the dream. Or to own a studio,” she shrugged.

“A studio,” he repeated.

“Yeah. Something for people to create. Host gallery nights like this,” she sighed dreamily. “My family was a little skeptical of my art degree. I’m in my suffering artist phase right now,” she explained.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but before he could respond his name was shouted from across the room. “Harry Styles!”

“Even at an art gallery with people who mostly know next to nothing about hockey, there are people who know you,” she shook her head in disbelief and sipped her wine. Harry chuckled, took her hand in place of it remaining on his arm and tugged her alongside him.

“Mr. Howard,” Harry nodded. “Pleasure to see you,” he used his freehand to shake. “This is my friend, Charlie’s niece,” he gestured introducing her and she was surprised to hear him say friend. She figured Harry was apt to make a girlfriend joke. But she didn’t recognize the man so perhaps he wouldn’t have taken kindly to Harry’s antics. “Mr. Howard owns the Polar Bears team,” Harry explained.

“Nice to meet you. You’re having a great season. I thought it was a shame Ray and Charlie didn’t steal Damon Winters before you got him in the draft. He's going to do extremely well over the next few years,” she said sweetly, releasing Harry’s hand to shake as well. However, the second she let go of his hand it felt twenty times colder than the ice rink and she regretted it. Harry couldn’t help it, he smiled with pride of his cute crush who knew so much about hockey and looked like a model. She was the entire package and Harry was lucky to be standing beside her.

The older man chuckled his eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’ll be sure to tell Charlie all about how he should have you on the scouting team the next time I see him... I figured you must be the star of the show,” the older man smiled sweetly. “We were just discussing who was going to go home with your work.”

She tilted her head and blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, Mr. Howard, you must have me mistaken with someone else. I don’t have work in this show.”

“So modest,” he smirked. “Harry, you saw it, right?”

“Uh... yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly and put a hand on her lower back, the warmth returning instantly. “We hadn’t made it over t’that side of the show yet,” he smirked. She turned to look at Harry, in utter surprise.

“What are you—”

“Oh, I won’t spoil the fun, then. Nice to meet you, love. Harry, try not to take out my whole team next week,” he smiled and sauntered the other way.

“What’s he talking about?”

“Oh, who knows,” Harry shrugged.

“Harry, stop it. Seriously.”

“S’not a big deal, Rookie.”

“What did he mean my stuff was in the show?”

Harry sighed and sipped the last of his drink. “I may have... submitted your hockey series.”

“You what?!” She pulled away from him and turned so they were looking at one another head on. Her eyes were wild but beautiful. Her face froze in surprise. “Why—how did—when...? Harry! What did you do?”

“Well, I did see this gallery on Instagram. I reached out and asked if they were taking submissions. They said it depended on the quality, to be honest. It’s not exactly amateur hour here.”

“Harry my stuff is amat—”

He ignored her and interrupted before she could finish her incorrect thought. “I sent a couple from the series and they immediately wanted to put it up,” Harry continued. “S’no big deal. Y’had it all numbered, I jus’ needed t’print it and put it in frames. I brought some of your extras too because they liked the idea so much. Then I jus’ invited some people I know in the league.”

She put a hand to her mouth. “Harry...”

“Are you mad?” He asked in shock. “Rookie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t’upset you. I jus’ wanted t’show y’how talented you are. But y’won’t take m’word for it. Thought if y’saw how much people loved it that didn’t know you, y’would believe me. Believe in yourself.”

“Where is it?” She whispered. Her eyes turned glossy, and Harry felt like shit for making her upset.

“Rookie, I’m sor—”

“Where?”

“It’s right over—” He gestured vaguely to the left of the room. She marched over in her pretty shoes. Harry followed after her feeling like a dick for doing it without her permission. In his head, she was going to be overjoyed. Happy. Harry sucked at predicting her emotions. This was almost as bad as making her unintentionally jealous.

“Charlie is lucky to have a talented niece like you on the team to take pictures like this,” was the first thing he heard as he approached.

“Are you selling this? It would look great in the entrance of the rink.”

“The Chargers should pay you more.”

“Do you want to come work for The Titans? We’ll pay you more.”

Behind the Bench from Behind the Lens was typed neatly in bold and on the frame to the left of the group of photos that constituted as her series. The eye followed it naturally, from the locker room to the empty rink, to the pile of ice. The scoreboard. All of it flowing beautifully like it was a dance.

She thanked everyone for their compliments. She gave out her number, happy to sell her pictures. Each person barely noticed Harry’s presence as she networked and looked at her photos in awe. “Charlie couldn’t make it?” Mr. Howard asked.

“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Harry shrugged finally reminding the people he knew from work of his presence.

“Oh Harry, I forgot you were here,” he chuckled. “She’s talented, hmm?”

“Extremely,” Harry put his hand on her back again as he gushed proudly over her. Not that it was his job to do so or his right, but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing so. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m not really an art gallery kind of man, but my wife happened to see the pictures you sent and said they were stunning,” he smiled. “You’ve got quite the eye, love.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice full of gratitude.

As soon as Mr. Howard left, Harry caught the arm of a caterer. Before she could ask him more questions about how he got her work in the show. “Excuse me, Miss,” Harry asked the waitress carrying a tray around. “Would y‘mind taking a couple of pictures for us?”

“Of course!” The woman smiled taking Harry’s phone. “These photos are stunning. Did you do them?” She asked.

“She did,” Harry wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her toward him. “Smile, Rookie. I know y’don’t get in front of the camera much,” he smirked. The waitress was kind to take several shots of the pair of them. It felt nice to hold her like she was all hers. He enjoyed making her feel like she was a star because she was.

After several photos and more praise from onlookers, the gallery was finishing up. As everyone started to leave, other artists were taking their items off the wall. Harry stood beside her, gazing at her work as they had looked at everyone else’s. “Tell me, Rookie,” he whispered softly. “What are we looking at?”

She swallowed. “Um... You first.”

“I see love in a sport that’s violent.”

“Love is pretty violent sometimes,” she whispered back.

Harry turned to look at her as she gazed at her own photos. The awe on her face was priceless. Harry wished he had his own fancy camera to capture how perfect she looked. “Love isn’t violent, Bunny. Maybe the way it feels inside is violent. But love isn’t supposed to be violent.”

“You put pictures in an art gallery for me,” her eyes filled with tears. She put a hand to her chest. Her pretty elegant chest draped in a black fabric from a dress that Harry bought for her (on sale) so they could match and because he knew she would hate an expensive one.

“I think you’re incredible, Rookie. Should be earning millions for your talent,” he was certain he could watch her for the rest of time. “Look how talented you are,” he put a hand on her shoulder.

She turned into his chest, sniffling and crying into her hands against his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she croaked.

“Don’t cry,” he chuckled. “Aw, Bunny, this is a good thing!”

“Harry it’s so sweet,” she wiped her eyes. “So supportive. I never—” her voice cut off and she sucked her breath in shakily.

She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Harry knew what she meant. She never had the support Harry was offering. The frames had to have cost hundreds of dollars. The time to put them all up had to have taken up some of his precious time from hanging out with the guys along with who knew how many emails he sent to get the owners of hockey teams and media specialists out to this small showing.

Harry cupped the back of her head and leaned forward to press his lips to her ear. “Rookie, I believe in you. Always,” this was easily one of his favorite ways to hold her. Even though it only happened while she cried. And she had only cried on the plane where he got to hold her like this as well. She didn’t cry often, but his strong girl letting the tears flow every now and again made him feel happy she was willing to be vulnerable with him. “Did I do okay, Bunny?” He asked, she could hear the smile in his voice.

She nodded and smiled sadly. “Pucking perfect.”

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @indierockgirrl @stylesfever @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @mads3502

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

@emmie2308 @fruity-harry @somebunnybaby @avas-queen-black @mema10

@tulips4harry @sturnrc @sassamanda77 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mp-269

@jmp1494 @fangirl509east @sideboobrry11 @drewrry @dutchtheatrelore @copiastricycle

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[pwnyta]

Stobotnik doodles...

Emotional support sycophriend.

Robotnik definitely doesnt need to touch Stone. In fact hes not touching him. He just showing him who is boss.

Ivo and Stone being very good friends while Ivo is recovering.

(A true but kinda useless fact- I was drawing this while listening to a Pet Sematary audiobook. It has nothing to do with this little doodle comic but whenever I look at it I think of that so....)

I am who I am and who I am is someone who likes to gijinka the creatures. So I gijinkad Robotniks little guys. Now Stobotnik has their own little primary color plus a girl gang. Shadow is also there.

Its spaghetti night.

I was just thinkin about how Ivo just fully jumped into having a 'real' family and how funny he might be having finally realized that Stone genuinely loved him (and he loved Stone back). Just him fully wanting to experience it all as quickly as possible to make up for lost time and Stone bein like 'Daddy chill.'

Hes not lonely at all. Hes never been lonely in his entire life in fact. //real //not clickbait

Early bird & Night owl

LICHERALLY.

Ivo is a Great Horned Owl cuz doodling Game!Bot made me think of them and Stone is a Purple Martin. Cus theyre purple. Incidentally swallows are used symbolically for hope, loyalty, and a promise of return apparently.... that worked out nicely I feel.

If you say anything about Stone being a Swallow Im bullying you.

I thought seeing Stones totally normal body dancing with Game!Ivos weird cartoon proportions would be funny. I was correct as usual.

Movie Stone is with Game!Ivo after his Ivo blows up I guess. Ive decided.

Spoilers for a later continuation of this featuring the Search party (two different parts)-

Fuck bein rational givem what they ask for. (Which is apparently this AU which is fun for me...)

[rafesbows]

hi hi ! love ur work <3

can i request rafe with reader who wants to try to be the dom for once but very quickly into it she realizes she can’t and he has to take over and he just thinks it’s really funny 😇😇

you really thought you could do it. really thought you could flip the script for once, put rafe in his place, take control. and for a second, just a second, you almost had him fooled.

you had straddled his lap, pushed him down against the mattress with shaky hands, trying to keep your expression firm. “don’t move,” you’d ordered, voice sweet and shaky, and rafe had just smirked, leaning back, arms folding behind his head.

“yes, ma’am,” he’d teased, watching you with lazy amusement.

but the second you tried to take the lead, the second your hips rolled down against his and you felt just how hard he already was, your confidence wavered.

his hands, which had stayed obediently at his sides, suddenly gripped your hips, holding you still.

“what’s the matter, baby?” his voice was all honeyed mockery, his eyes gleaming with something smug. “thought you were in charge?”

you swallow hard, your breath hitching as his grip tightens. “i—i am,” you try to insist, but the way your voice wobbles betrays you.

rafe chuckles, sitting up so suddenly you gasp. his mouth finds your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“that’s cute.”

before you can even react, he flips you onto your back, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

“nice try, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your skin, kissing down your neck as his hands pin your wrists above your head.

his hips roll against yours, making you whimper, and he just grins, thoroughly entertained.

“maybe next time.”

his grin is downright smug as he watches your face crumble, your whole body shivering beneath him. "see, baby?" rafe murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw. "this is how it’s done."

your breath hitches when his hands slide down, rough palms skimming over your sides, your thighs. everywhere except where you need him most. and he knows it. loves it.

"you got all shy on me real quick, huh?" he chuckles, kissing down your neck. "thought you were gonna take control."

you whimper, squirming under him, but his grip tightens, keeping you still. his fingers press into your hips, his thigh wedged between yours, just enough pressure to make you ache for more.

"nah, baby," he hums, amusement lacing his voice. "you don’t tell me what to do."

his hand snakes between your bodies, fingers teasing, barely brushing where you’re desperate for him.

"but lucky for you," he purrs, his breath hot against your ear, "i know exactly what you need."

@ rafesbows

💌 : love the request anon !! hope u like this ヽ(●´ε｀●)ノ ps, would anyone be interested in joining a taglist if i made one ?

[voxslays]

CLOSE TO YOU — THE SALESMAN

PART FOUR — NOT SPECIAL PAIRINGS: The Salesman (Gong Yoo) x Reader. WARNINGS: Mentions of kidnapping (sort of), Reader is mentioned to be a foreigner (not stated from where), not proofread, possibly OOC... A/N: Damn im writing these quickly. I’m trying to pace it well, but I think I’m failing in that department lol…but, I also plan to have no more than thirty(ish) parts/chapters.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Just great.”

Now you were stuck by yourself, in this mangy pink motel room with someone who played Ddakji and sent innocent people to their deaths for a living. Lovely. “So what’s your name?” You ask, ‘gently’ prodding. The recruiter chuckles. “Why don’t we play a game, and if you win, you can find out.” He smirks. You give him a small, fake smile. “And if I lose?”

“You are in debt to me.” He smiles. You laugh out loud. You couldn’t help yourself. Just who did this guy think he is? “You’re funny.” You say through a fit of giggles, the silence around you deafening. The enigmatic salesman studying you in an unnerving way. “Why don’t we play a different game?” You ask, gently cupping his face. The salesman lets out a small hum, telling you to continue.

“How about you tell me where the island is, and I don’t kill you.” You smirk. “Nice try miss.” Your smile instantly drops. “But I don’t give anything out for free.” You scream in frustration. “Why won’t you just cooperate!?” The ravenette lifts up the sleeve on his unshackled hand, revealing a watch. “It hasn’t even been five minutes since your friends left, and you’re already this worked up?”

“Listen here, asshole.” You utter lowly, lunging forward to grab his perfectly ironed, white collar. “Your ‘organization’ has probably already replaced you—so why are you still so loyal to them?” The salesman glares (the first time you’ve seen him do anything but smile), as you continue on, letting him go. “You’re pathetic.” You spit.

“And your friends? They left you here because you’re too weak to help them.” He pauses, his eyes sizing you up. “You may not be the same trash that Gi-hun once was—but you’re not much better.” He chides, his voice filled with a cunning malice.

“You’re weak.”

…

Was fighting with this moron even worth it? He knew how to exploit your feelings, didn’t he? He was doing it right now. Maybe it would be best to just leave him be and come back in the morning. Maybe then, you could start fresh, your emotions out of the way. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” You breathe out, stepping away from the bathtub. You turn towards the stained glass door, before he called out to you one last time.

“Before you go, miss, I’ll have you admit one thing.” You didn’t bother to turn, your hand still placed firmly on the cool metal handle. “You’re just like everyone else. You’re not special.” You quickly open the glass door, stepping outside—before slamming it harshly, the pressure enough to slightly crack the glass. Good thing Gi-hun owned the motel. He wouldn’t be mad at you. Would he?

You pushed your intrusive thoughts to the back of your mind as you step out of the room, walking down the long hall to room ‘220’. You pull out the bronze key. It had a heart engraved into the center of the handle. You pushed it into the lock and easily pulled open the door. Walking in, you lazily tossed yourself onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of your day clothes.

As you tuck yourself into bed that night, you can’t help but remember the salesman’s words. YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL, YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL, YOU’RE NOT SPECIAL. Was that really true? You had always strived to be a good person, helping out your community. You had gotten good grades in school, attending university like your parents wanted…yet…maybe what he said was true.

Maybe you weren’t special.

TAGLIST: @scuzmunkie @iloveinhodaeho @devilishdelirium @muchwita @ang3lgvts

[kingcrossbones]

Brock didn't even realize how tired and exhausting these past days had been until he had something to compare it to, to remind himself of what a soldier is like as he spent the rest of the day with the Winter Soldier. He does not need to give orders or be on guard for what he might do. It was nice at first but left a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth. Loki sure didn't make things easier for himself and somewhere in the darkest corners of Brock's mind, he felt for the guy, but he quickly forgot about it as he was slammed on the floor by the Asset. He started to laugh and stood there, calling it a win for the other. Sparing always puts his thoughts in order but he was done now and ready for a shower and sleep. Early the next morning, Brock was present in the lab, watching some of the recordings. He was briefed on what had happened before he would entered the cell where Loki was chained and a part of him found it disturbingly exciting. "Why do you insist on convincing this man to work with you, Commander Rumlow?" a soft-spoken accented voice came from his right and he shook his head, not having any of that. "Nah. I'm not giving up on him yet, not until there's nothing else I can do," he frowned, and the look Zola gave him, even as an android, it was speaking volumes and Brock couldn't stand being seen so clean though. "Told ya," he looked away and gained his composure as he headed towards the door, "the chair will be the last thing. I don't wanna scramble his brains unless there's no other option." Zola's gaze remained with him as he paced through the halls, all the way to Loki's cell. As he approached the God, Brock crouched with a sigh and ran a gentle hand through Loki's hair, concern flashed through his eyes as he admired his resilience but despised how hard Loki made things for both of them. "Y'know, all of this doesn't have to happen, and.." he glanced at the device on Loki's back which Brock despised, no doubt Loki did so more but… "I'm really looking forward to the day when yer gonna understand that I'm your only friend here, baby," he gently traced Loki's jaw, and his eyes landed on his lips, his body, and how spent he was. Brock's belly felt funny and he breathed in, feeling the pull to kiss him as he licked his lips unawares. "Believe me, I want nothing more than to get those chains off and we can get some food, a shower, remember that? Good boys get rewarded, sweetheart, and I want nothing more than to give you all of that," Brock's eyes were sincere and his voice soft and steady. If anything, he knew how to sell it and to play his filthy part in this. No one could ever tell him otherwise.

"They don't know you're awake yet. Stay down."

Loki had briefly started to sit up, but the harshly growled whisper to stay down kept him in his place. He was all for keeping himself alive and safe and if this man's tone was anything to go off of, it would serve him well to listen. His green eyes were focused intensely on the man next to him, "Who is 'they' and why are you helping me?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper to avoid arousing the attention of the other people in the room.

@kingcrossbones

[wakayrd]

Question for your Theater AU!

How do you think an ecounter between canon Sif and you AU Sif would go.

By Acts for clarification.

I feel like Canon Sif MAY have a disaociative episode during later Acts if they were suddenly droped into a theater that confirms his growing detatchment towards his family, but what about you?

This was an interesting ask that immediately had my thoughts racing. I was thinking about where in the timeline was Curtain Call Siffrin when this sort of interaction was happening? And then on top of that how would it be different if it was multiple interactions each act? How would it be better / worse if it was not just Curtain Call Siffrin but the rest of the crew? Curtain Call Siffrin spends a lot of time at the theatre “alone”, once they got his own code into the theatre. Luckily the theatre owner Euphrasie is very kind about wandering souls like that, and doesn’t mind as long as Siffrin isn’t bringing in others from outside the company into the theatre (for insurance reasons) or using any power tools / doing activities that you shouldn’t be alone for. Euphrasie isn’t at the theatre often anyhow, so it’s a lovely quiet place to do whatever. It’d be so funny to have Siffrin show up then, but also just as fun if it was during a rehearsal. In terms of when in my timeline, it’s going to be exactly where I’ve been sitting so… in certain ways, Curtain Call Siffrin is going to seem a bit clueless. But isn’t it nice to be that way? It all makes me go teehee… I’ve written out my thoughts of what I would think would happen depending on the Act if Siffrin showed up at the theatre. Spoilers for the whole game ahead- and 2hats! This is a long post btw but there's art too so I hope it's all worth it? I tried my best to capture what I thought would happen but I am still trying to understand the characters and how they'd react so if you have different ideas about how certain things would happen feel free to let me know!

CC Siffrin = Curtain Call Siffrin Spirit = Spirit Of The Theatre (aka Loop in the theatre)

ACT 1

Siffrin isn’t that perturbed being there other than a typical “why am I here? Why is there another Siffrin here? What is all of this?” I imagine. It’s one of the lightest interactions compared to the other acts. It’s just a nice bonding moment between Siffrins- especially if this is before the crunch of the rock there isn’t much reason for there to be an issue or any worries other than "well I need to go back to fight the king with my friends" but Siffrin likely assumes this is a dream. Assuming that there isn’t hostility when they’re both like “??? hello?” I imagine they would talk about plays that have happened, where they are in their lives and the people that they know- allies, friends, whatever-you-want-to-call-them. A good time. We all know Siffrins need a good time and that’s this.

ACT 2

Siffrin is a bit thrown off by the fact that they’re in a theatre. From my memory Siffrin hasn’t really slipped that much into referring to their timeloops as a stage / theatre in Act 2, so it feels calming to be somewhere that they kinda enjoy- it’s a time to think about “huh, maybe I can see a play eventually after we defeat the king”. Meeting CC Siffrin is quite a shock. They exchange a bit of their stories. Siffrin tells CC Siffrin about the time loops and while CC Siffrin cannot relate, they do kinda offer his support to them. Siffrin asks to hear about the next play they’re putting on. If they see the rest of the crew, I imagine it’s bittersweet. It’s nice to know they’re happy and don’t have to deal with the King in another universe. … If they see Spirit, they call out to them. Spirit is a bit shocked, and obviously isn’t Siffrin’s Loop. They quickly dismiss the new Siffrin and tell them that they’re not who Siffrin thinks they are!

No art for Act 2... I just couldn't come up with anything. SORRY!

ACT 3 + 4

… Teehee. I’m only combining 3 and 4 because my brain is always foggy on where exactly it switches but I am pretty sure it’s after Bonnie… yeah. Still! They’re both pretty similar.

Act 3 and 4 Siffrin is where we start to see the dread and panic. At first, Siffrin thinks that the stage before them is a dream. When they see…. Themselves come onto the stage (because CC Siffrin was working on something backstage when he heard someone out there), reasonably Siffrin felt nauseous. It takes a long while for the air to clear between the two- if the others are there I can imagine it’s worse because Siffrin could have very well walked into a rehearsal. It’s kinda funny, in an awful way- walking into carbon copies of people you love, you love them so so so much- reciting lines knowingly and laughing as they flub up or accidentally go a bit off script. Siffrin hates it.

Either way, Act 3 and 4 Siffrin is not mentally okay enough for all this. It feels good to not be in the presence of the group- if anything, hanging out on the catwalks and pretending they’re a distant observer of this group of people makes it easier but also way way too familiar. Siffrin and CC Siffrin probably talk a bit- I can imagine it’s not easy for Siffrin, so CC Siffrin tries to fill the space with some things. Siffrin often zones out on him. If it’s intentional or not, CC Siffrin doesn’t know. Siffrin interacting with Spirit comes off a bit more desperate. Maybe this version of Loop can help them surely, surely the situation isn’t as impossible as it feels- but Spirit is uncomfortable. They kinda hate that this Siffrin knows that their existence is tied to the idea of time loops in some way! They’re quick to inform Siffrin that they’re not whomever he thinks they are- they cannot help.

ACT 5

Uh oh. Siffrin hates it. Hates every second of it. The only reason they vaguely keep up pleasantries with CC Siffrin is because maybe then they can get back to where they were away from these fakes, if they’re nice. He doesn't even want to think about why they're in this theatre or what happened for him to end up here. It’s so awkward because everything that rolls off of Siffrin’s tongue feels wrong. CC Siffrin quickly realizes that Siffrin really isn’t doing good, but thinks anything that he tries to do won’t help. It's kinda this internal "oh this guy is not okay" for CC Siffrin.

Siffrin just wants to get back. So they can defeat the King and get out of here. They hate the theatre. They HATE it. They want out. They probably dissociate for a majority of the time they’re at the theatre. Get them out of this blinding play! It’s worse if the others are there- there’s a longing there, a want to get to talk to them even if they’re not their family but they feel absolutely vile seeing them in this setting. It’s very much a “don’t look at me ever but also hug me so tight you crush me” I imagine. They need to get back, they're so close to getting out of these time loops! They don’t want to talk to Spirit. Can’t trust them.

ACT 6 

Still the same feeling of apprehension. When they see another version of themselves, it’s a bit of confusion but also the shock of seeing another him throws them back into reality. The two Siffrins talk for a bit about what's going on, which definitely tells Siffrin that the theatre is an OKAY place to be right now, and that everything is fine. He’s still a bit shaky about it, and is trying not to think too hard about it.

Siffrin retelling the story of where they’re from to CC Siffrin would be fun- CC Siffrin just sits there with wide eyes, it does feel like something out of one of the plays they know. Siffrin brings up nothing about the wishes. They exchange little stories, tell Siffrin about how they’ve been helping out with the theatre and that it’s been very nice to get to know everyone. Siffrin finds CC Siffrin a bit endearing, in the way that they clearly enjoy working with everyone and haven’t been tortured by their own wish like they have. It’s honestly fun and really cute to hear about how Odile is a stage manager, Isabeau and Mirabelle act most of the plays and how Bonnie helps out with snacks. If Siffrin does happen to bring up wishes, they get interrupted by someone clearing their (nonexistent) throat- Spirit.

The moment they spot Spirit they’re hit with another wave of confusion- I imagine the Siffrins are sitting on the stage, and Spirit is above on the catwalk. It's this long moment of silence- to break it, CC Siffrin explains that Spirit is the Spirit of the Theatre, and that nobody else knows they’re there. Siffrin and Spirit lock eyes, and Spirit shakes their head slightly at them. No. Don’t talk about it.

Siffrin requests to speak to Spirit alone. CC Siffrin is a bit confused by it, but obliges. Maybe this person means a lot to Siffrin. He goes off- they’re actually going to grab something for the two of them to eat because Siffrin looks like they should eat.

The conversation between Spirit and Siffrin is tense and awkward. I wrote an approximation of what I think would happen here (pardon my writing I haven't written fanfiction in years. I'm still trying to get a grasp on the characters personally... but I am trying my best). Siffrin probably comes clean right away about- “I know who you are, Spirit. At least, I do if you’re the same as the version from my world.” “...” “Do I need to say it?” “... No.” “...Is this er, this version of Siffrin” with a gesture below to the stage “aware of the time loops? They certainly don’t act like he is.”

“They haven’t started yet.”

“.... oh. How long, until…?”

“I have 10 more months to figure out how to stop him from ever suggesting that play, making that blinding wish and hurting everyone.”

“Stars…Well, we have some time to think about it. Maybe I was sent here to… help?” They spend a bit talking about Siffrin’s experience and how his wish was what caused this time loop to happen, and how they got out of the loops by talking to their friends- their family. Spirit can’t hide the anger they have. Clearly, this was a solution they never thought of.

Siffrin is a bit understanding. They explain what Loop was to them, and how he was saved by them and their help. That they can’t release the burden that Spirit is under and can’t relieve the pain they’ll go through, but they understand vaguely what Spirit may be feeling now that they know the truth about their Loop.

Siffrin does wonder why Spirit doesn't want to tell CC Siffrin about wishes at all, but if Spirit is trying to prevent him from making a wish in the first place, perhaps telling them about it isn't a good idea. “Thank you for being here, Spirit.”

“Well I don’t believe I can actually leave the theatre, so the thanks is mute-”

“Still, you may not hear it properly from your Siffrin, but I see what you’re doing and I want to say thank you.”

"I haven't done anything yet." "But you will, so thank you."

“...”

“...”

“...You know, my understudy believes I’m actually a spirit. They think I have no physical form at all. It’s kind of amusing.” “But then how do you keep the hat on?” “I guess he hasn’t thought that far.” They laugh about it. Some tension has been relieved. They talk a bit more about how the loops happen in the theatre (Spoilers! teehee.) Honestly it’s the most seen and real Spirit has ever felt. There doesn’t need to be a justification or explanation for their existence, and they’re with someone who understands as much as they need to without having to do the icky vulnerable part of it all. They're ignoring the jealousy for now that's rooted in them over the sheer bliss of being seen. Teehee. ACT 6 Siffrin is the most cathartic of them all to me. Plus, Spirit deserves it! I also tried using a new pen for the art and while i miss my bold lines, i think I really like this one more... I may experiment more with it all :)

[buckysgirl27]

Off To War

Part One

40sBucky x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are married in the 40's. Hydra captures Bucky and commands him to eliminate them. Can he do it? What will happen to future Bucky with this new information.

A/N: So I saw this outline of a fan fiction someone was looking for. It looked really good so I decided to write my own version of it but along the same lines 😊 I'm going to try to do it justice.

Trigger Warnings: Fluff, not proof read and I wrote this kinda late at night so oops, some swearing.

The day you met Bucky it wasn't love at first sight. No. It was quite the opposite. For you anyway. He was absolutely infatuated with you. It was annoying. All you wanted to do was punch him in his perfect teeth and mess up his beautifully perfect face. No, it absolutely was not love at first sight.

The day you met Bucky you were meant to be making a quick trip to the market. You were in need of some bread and butter. Your mother had forgotten to pick some up earlier that week and you had volunteered. You wanted to get out of the house.

That was your first mistake. Your second mistake was entertaining the handsome stranger introducing himself after he bumped into you. Probably on purpose even though even 110 years later he would still deny it.

"Mmf. Hey watch it!" You said as the stranger bumped you nearly knocking you off your feet.

"Sorry ma'am, didn't see you there. Let me give you a hand."

You rolled your eyes and were about to smack his hand away and tell him you could get up yourself and didn't need a man like all the other women in this god forsaken world but then your eyes met his and they were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. The bluest eyes you had ever seen.

Before you knew it you were being hauled to your feet. And then the stranger opened his mouth again and ruined what could have been a great moment.

"My names James Buchanan Barnes. Do you need an escort home so you don't trip or walk into any strangers again?"

He was trying to be funny. The delivery was awful. He wasn't good at flirting. It was almost like he'd never done it before. Which was odd you thought because he definitely looked like the type who would have a new girl every other weekend.

"I'll be fine." You told him stiffly, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

"You should have someone with you anyway. Propriety and all."

"That's no longer relevant. Woman can go out now Barnes. I don't need a 'big strong man' with me."

He laughed at that. You weren't trying to be funny. He made you angry. There was no way in hell he would walk you home. Maybe if he wasn't an ass and spoke about propriety then sure he might have been able to walk you home. Still doubtful though.

You gathered up your bread and butter that had fallen out of your basket and marched away to make your purchase.

He followed you silently. You glared at him. He smiled.

Asshole.

You left the market and again he followed you. Then he followed you around the corner, down the street and all the way to the front steps of your house.

It was sweet. No. It was aggravating. He wanted you to be safe. No. He wanted to see where you lived so he could creep on you.

"Ugh! Why would you follow me home!"

He grinned mischievously.

"Propriety,"

You gave him a dirty look.

"You little sh-"

"And I guess we're neighbors."

He grinned smugly, walked away from your porch steps and to the front door of the house next to you. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

"Nice to meet ya neighbor!"

Before you could say anything else he shut the door.

You were screwed.

~~~~~~~

A year and a half had passed and even after your obvious attempts to keep him away, it didn't work. You pushed him away but he kept coming back. You told yourself you didn't feel anything for him but it was all lies and you knew it. Everyone knew it. He knew it. But he was fine with it because he loved you the day he knocked you over and you called him a little shit.

There was a knock at the door. Your mother answered it.

"James honey! Come in!"

You groaned, you didn't want to face your emotions today. You spent time with him yesterday at Mikey's Shakes and a walk in the park and obviously a walk home. Wasn't that enough?

No. It never would be.

"Thank you ma'am." He paused. "She's hiding from me isn't she?"

"You know her so well." Your mother giggled. Giggled. You wanted to gag.

You took a deep breath and walked down the hall to meet him at the door. He was wearing his usual button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his first few buttons undone, and a pair of jeans with suspenders. Those damn suspenders. He looked so good with them and he knew it.

But as you searched his face you noticed that his usual smile didn't reach all the way to his eyes and he looked more tired than usual. His eyes were red and puffy, like he'd been crying. He never cried. He did look sad though. Almost like he had something to say but didn't want to say it.

You gave yourself a little shake and rolled your eyes.

"Flowers now, really?" you asked, "You're still that upset that you bumped into me and knocked me on my a- uhm, backside?"

He let out a laugh. Short. Clipped. It sounded almost uncomfortable.

"Um no. These. Um. These are for something else."

He looked at the rug as if it were the most interesting thing in the world and your mother gave you a sympathetic smile, one that also did not reach her eyes and told you he wasn't here with good news.

She had known and he had asked her not to tell you because you deserved to hear from him. Not in a letter from him when he was already gone and not from your mother. And certainly not a letter from the government saying he was dead.

He wouldn't do that to you. He couldn't do that to you. He loved you too much for that.

"Think we could take a walk doll?"

You froze at the nickname. He only used that one specifically when it was something serious. He never did use your name. It was always honey, sweetheart, doll face, but rarely ever just doll. Sometimes when he was angry, or stressed you had noticed it was used. The last time he used it was when his parents died 6 months ago.

"Um, yes. Of course, let me just get my coat."

You walked down the hall to your room wondering what could be so important that you needed to leave the house.

He wasn't about to propose was he? Oh God please no. You'd given no signals for that. Right? You'd say yes. No you wouldn't! Yes. Yes you would who were you kidding.

You grabbed your coat from your closet, put it on and went back to the living room where you had left your mother and Bucky.

"You should tell her before you go." You heard your mother say softly.

You knew you shouldn't eavesdrop but you couldn't help it. It was about you. You'd appear before it got too interesting. Just enough information to keep you up at night right?

"I know."

That was all he said. You were disappointed. But you also felt he knew you were listening in on them. You crept back out into the hallway and into the living room.

You slowly took Bucky's hand in yours and led him to the front door with a smile on your face, your eyes not quite meeting his.

"Let's go on that walk, yeah?"

~~~~~~~~~

When he told you he was going to war 2 months ago you laughed in his face. But then he came to say goodbye to you and he looked so good in his uniform you kissed him. Never mind your mother standing a couple yards away beaming because she saw it coming all along. Your first kiss with him. He was flabbergasted.

"I should leave for war more often." He joked.

"Please don't leave. Stay with me." You whispered.

"You know I can't."

You sniffed holding back tears. You ran your hands through his neatly combed hair, his hat would cover up the mess you made of it. It would be fine. You wanted to commit every bit of him you could to memory these last few minutes you had.

You took a deep breath. Saying the words you never planned on saying to him. But you needed to say them now. In case you were never able to say them again. He needed to know.

"I love you."

He smiled.

"Now I'm definitely coming back. I love you too ya know."

It was your turn to smile.

"Yeah James, I know."

The sound of a truck honking startled the two of you apart. He glanced back at the truck and then to you. He gave you a quick peck on your lips before he gathered up his things.

"I love you. I'll see you in a few months, sweetheart."

"I'll be here." You whispered.

Masterlist

@goth1c-pinki3-pi3

[mister-mickey]

chinese shepard headcanons please

Sorry for the wait, I wanted to research a bit, please forgive me if anything is off, or if this isn’t super specific, I’m afraid I still don’t know a whole lot

Anyone is free to reblog this with more headcanons, I know there’s a few Chinese outsiders fans on here that most definitely know more than I do

First off, I feel like there’s a good chance that they’re one of the only Asian families in Tulsa. Most of the Asian Americans there were apparently Japanese, so I can’t imagine the Chinese population was thriving (even today, Tulsa has a low Chinese population)

I think their dad’s family was Northern Chinese, and had been in the US for a few generations. Their mom was Southern Chinese and moved there sometime between 1943 and 1945 (giving her some leeway for Tim’s birth) she met their dad, fell in love, had some kids and all that. I think either they met in Tulsa, or met somewhere else and then moved to Tulsa (for some godforsaken reason) at some point, Mr. Shepard dies

Now, for the kids, I think they’re would all speak decent Mandarin. Their mom speaks English, (along with a bit of Cantonese) but she doesn’t really like to so they were all raised using it. I don’t think they would write it very well because I can’t imagine she would teach them or give them the resources needed to learn it. Anyway, I’d say at home they speak about 70% mandarin and 30% English

Their stepdad is a white guy who doesn’t speak any mandarin, so the Shepard kids speak ONLY mandarin around him so that he feels excluded. Their mom gets really annoyed but she does the same exact thing

They do eat a decent amount of Chinese food, but due to their budget, their skills, and the fact that the ingredients available are different from the ones their mom is used to, their recipes are far from traditional. I think their food would be more inspired rather than replicas of the food their mom had back in China. Also, I doubt she really cooks for them, so they make the food themselves.

Now for the kids individually,

I think Tim’s dream of going to California in the show could take on a different context. The Chinese population in California is much higher, so maybe he would enjoy the thought of going somewhere where he’s just another face in the crowd, or enjoy a fresh start with other Chinese Americans

Tim doesn’t like cooking, but he likes the food. Angela probably cooks the most, but curly is the best cook.

Curly likes Ponyboy because Ponyboy is like genuinely interested when he talks about the few parts of China and Chinese culture that he knows. Pony also researches sometimes and talks to curly about it. A lot of times, pony talks to him about Chinese history and folklore, which curly knows next to nothing about.

Angela I think would be the most proud of her culture, she likes to wear her mother’s jewelry and when Ms. Shepard is in a nostalgic mood, Angela is the one that listens to her. She doesn’t get along with her mother at all, but this is one of the few times they can just sit together and talk.

Sometimes Angela mutters insults under her breath in Mandarin. It always makes the other people at her school super mad, and she loves it. She never tells them what she said, but they always know it was an insult. It’s especially bad if curly is right there becuase he will almost always laugh along with whatever she said

Tim does the same thing, but only to Dallas. The thing is though, while Dallas is annoyed, he also thinks it’s kind of funny (he knows when he’s been bested, even of he doesn’t know what Tim said) When Tim does this, whatever fight they’re having tends to end pretty soon after.

Because dallas is like constantly at their house, he’s picked up a bit of vocab. Nothing helpful, only curses and insults. He refuses to learn anything else. Tim always teaches him nice things and says they’re insults because it’s funny to him, but curly and Angela will actually teach him the rottenest things

I think overall, they’re proud of their culture because it’s theirs and they’re proud people.

Anyway, again, any Chinese outsiders fans are encouraged to reblog this and add headcanons of their own

[lilietsblog]

a few notes on 'transmisogyny exempt'

part I

while there are many elements that go into transmisogyny, i believe it to be a shared understanding that the part that generally, usually, normatively elicits the violent, murderous rage that results in so many deaths is the idea of "a man pretending to be a woman in order to trick other men into sleeping with him"

there's a lot to unpack there, but the thing I want to highlight here is that this is not an accurate description of trans women. it both misgenders them /and/ ascribes decidedly untrue motives. it is generally /associated with/ trans women and used to /refer to/ them but it does not 'mean' trans women because it is fully untrue about them

like i would actually be surprised to learn that literally never in the entire history of humanity has there been a single trans woman who thought it would be funny to trick a man into sleeping with her only to surprise reveal her genitals. however, even this hypothetical daredevil prankster would still, by definition, be a woman, making the idea still untrue as applied to her

i would also be surprised to learn that literally never in the entire history in humanity has there been a man who thought it would be funny to dress up like a woman and trick another man into sleeping with him only to surprise reveal his genitals. this hypothetical daredevil prankster is meanwhile, by definiton, not a trans woman

so the iconic feature of transmisogyny, the most physical threat to trans women's lives, is based on a misconception and misgendering in the first place

this is also characteristic of other aspects of transmisogyny. they are not based on an accurate undersatnding of the world. see all the denial of science going on, among other fun facts

when transmisogynist decides to transmisogynistically attack someone, they do not first ask for their birth certificate or their pronouns

literally any gender non-conforming person, and also any person who does not conform to the corresponding culture's gendered appearance standards, is a possible target for transmisogynist violence

you can call it "misdirected" but that doesn't make any sense, because see above: the original idea does not refer to trans women in the first place, it 'intends' to target men who pretend to be women in order to trick other men into sleeping with them. trans women are simply the most common target for the associated violence to be misdirected towards

it usually targets trans women, yes. however, trans men, nonbinary people, intersex people of all genders, cis men and cis women are all not exempt since it's based on ascribing someone a spurious motive and making bigoted assumptions about their gender in the first place

part II

at one point in feminist history, 'men pretending to be women in order to trick men into sleeping with them' got a buddy

it was called 'men pretending to be women in order to trick other women into sleeping with them'

and also another more general friend called 'men pretending to be women in order to infiltrate women's spaces with nefarious intent'

that be the terfs, we all know of them

(terfs reading this, please think long and hard about why you think what you think. please take this chance to look up some science, crime statistics, etc)

and while there was some theoretical opposition to be had in 'actually men are not inherently violent, are our natural allies in the fight against sexism and patriarchy rather than enemies, and there are predatory and rapist women as well'

most opposition to the idea was 'actually trans women are women though'. people rallied against misgendering, invited trans women in as their sisters, and so on. it was very nice

you know who is not women though? trans men

'men in women's spaces tricking lesbians into sleeping with them'. 'men trying to access resources meant for women'. 'men are inherently misogynistic and hostile and hold oppressive views'

men pretending to be women with nefarious intent, where have we heard this before

concepts to look up for supplementary reading

gender essentialism

sexism

queer liberation

you can go from there, i believe in you

extra special supplementary reading by me

some notes on patriarchy

[serpentface]

9, 14, 30

[ask meme]

You've fallen into my evil trap: by forgetting to specify a character I take this as permission to do all (I'll keep this one shorter)

Does your OC consider their voice particularly "sexy"? Do they try to adopt a more seductive tone in romantic situations? How successful are these efforts?

Palo: a) no b) Kind Of, he usually opts to keep a casual demeanor but if he's very comfortable he might jokingly put on an exaggerated show of seductiveness (like speak with the tone/vocabulary of the most effusive and flowery love poetry) (he also does this in platonic situations to joke around, he's great at ad-libbing it) c) it works for people who find this funny and he won't try unless he's extremely confident they will.

Tigran: a) absolutely not. b) has never been in a serious romantic situation in his life, and probably would not change his tone if he was. c) N/A

Hibrides: a) thinks her voice is like, kinda nice? Wouldn't say sexy. b) The very thought of doing so is embarrassing for her. Her tone does shift a little because she's liable to be very nervous and less focused on controlling her voice, so she often starts speaking more loudly than usual c) great news if you find that cute

Brakul: a) yes b) yes. He speaks softly and gets all 'look how deep my voice can go do you notice how deep my voice is' with it, goes hard with terms of endearment. With Janeys he sometimes starts speaking in Chenahyeig, mostly for his own benefit because it feels more comfortable and expressive and partly for the received effect of 'I understood maybe 20% of that but it sounded hot'. c) depending on the person this can register as 'tryhard and corny' or 'soooooo fuckinngg sexy put your fingers in my mouth NOW'

Faiza: a) probably hasn't considered it but might say 'yes' if prompted b) Is not interested in/doesn't get into romantic situations, but does have a pronounced tendency of showboating in front of women in a way that seems flirtatious. c) on that note there are several women with unrequited crushes on her.

[excerpt of her doing this to Hibrides early on] [Hibrides was one of the 'several', though is mostly over it/dislikes her in the present day]

Couya: a) yes b) no c) If you're into her to begin with you probably aren't wanting or expecting her to attempt a seductive tone on you.

Janeys: a) no b) not usually intentionally but his tone does tend to change (usually quiets down and speaks very softly) c) if you are in the minority of people who like him to begin with there's a fair chance you find the tone shifting notably cute.

---

Is your OC particularly vocal during sex? Do they tend to use actual words or even full sentences? Or just noises? How much control do they have over this?

Palo: has a tendency to talk in a 'easing awkwardness/tension' sort of way, which has usually gone positively for him (his former girlfriend mostly found it endearing). A lot of nervous laughter. Has a tendency for quiet whimpering.

Tigran: almost never has sex and is not particularly into it. If he's making noise it's 'straight up just chatting because he's bored'.

Hibrides: If she Actually is really into it she makes some noise, not really talking or full sentences. She tries to be quiet but has some volume control issues just like, in general.

Brakul: Definitely the most vocal and the only one of these people who will both readily attempt to dirty talk and is like, okay at it. If you're receptive to that sort of thing to begin with it's going to work on you, and if not you're going to be like 'man shut up'.

Couya: Eerily silent like damn at least breathe a little.

Faiza: has never had any form of sex and doesn't want to.

Janeys: The Whimperer and has to make a conscious effort not to. Will sometimes try to dirty talk but is awful at it. Sometimes gets overwhelmed and feels a pressing need to express his wants/feelings and then says something incoherent like "You need-. You-. I wanna-. I need to get , pregbnant No I Don't. I love yuo. I want to cover you in semen."

---

Are there any concepts or activities which are taboo in your OC's culture of origin, which they prefer to refer to euphemistically? How do the respond to others who do not share these taboos?

I'm only doing this one for a two characters but couldn't keep it short anyway, so it's going under the cut.

(Just in general, taboo Concepts in the Wardi cultural sphere don't usually involve speech avoidance or any other perceived Necessity to speak in euphemism. Some of the strongest taboos are readily discussed in conversation and explicitly depicted in art.

Speech taboos tends to apply to earthbound ghosts/evil spirits, with the mechanism behind this speech regulation being belief that they can Hear You and Be Summoned. Full speech avoidance is usually necessitated for speaking the Names of ghosts/evil spirits, and most people will accompany their speech about these entities in general with gestures/actions considered to protect from supernatural attachment (the gestures against evil, touching silver, spitting between your feet, etc).

Tigran:

He is on the more superstitious end of the spectrum while also LOVING to talk about death and ghosts and people getting eaten by dogs and etc. This results in him having very distinct mannerisms, he already talks with his hands and often interlaces this with gestures against evil so quickly and frequently you barely even notice it. Spits more in any given three day period than the average person does in a month.

It can be somewhat aggravating for similarly superstitious people around him. The average person habitually performs apotropaic gestures when necessary and barely even thinks about it, but he invokes dangerous concepts with SUCH frequency that it can be mildly nerve wracking for some conversational partners. Made more annoying when HE starts acting uncomfortable that you aren't signing as much as he is.

On the reverse end, he gets very unnerved when speaking to people who don't share similar speech/behavior regulations surrounding talk of ghosts/evil spirits, as well as on an intracultural level (Tigran falls into a category that gestures for most verbal invocations of significant bad luck, illness, and other misfortunes of potentially supernatural origin, while many people aren't that extensive in their avoidance). It can come off as rude because you're like, talking about your elderly mother dying after a bad fall a few months ago and he's just rapidly signing every time you mention or imply her unfortunate death. He might even make a note that you should be doing it too otherwise you're probably going to go the same way. [signs] He's heard of this happening. [signs and spits].

His level of compulsive behavior regarding superstitions (and particularly his extremes of both Routinely Speaking Of These Things and showing Pronounced Paranoia About These Things) is not culturally typical by a long shot and strikes most people as strange. You could psychoanalyze this as having some childhood trauma roots and being a way to maintain a sense of security and control of his life and surroundings, though it was partially learned from his grandmother who probably had her own shit going on.

[Excerpts demonstrating this. Palo is using a more typical extent of signing/spitting, in this case reserving it for speech about ghosts. Tigran launches into a lengthy story about a guy he knew who was haunted and cursed by his friend's ghost, with Palo avoiding any direct verbal acknowledgment of the subject matter]

Brakul:

One very very significant cultural difference between himself and his Wardi compatriots is a belief that dead ancestors who have properly moved on remain fully interactive and should always be invoked with care, not only as an abstract expectation of respect but that they Could Be Listening and there Can Be Consequences for disrespect. You Have to use speech avoidance and euphemism if you want to badmouth a dead person who was your direct kin/personal relation and you should just be cautious in general. (Wardi culture actually has related traits to a different/briefer extent, expecting COMPLETE speech avoidance about the dead during the month-long mourning period but nothing beyond that).

So he is routinely fucking HORRIFIED at how flippantly people will discuss/badmouth their dead relatives. Sometimes in the capacity of 'You have no respect and should be ashamed of yourself' and sometimes like '(I mean you're not wrong but) THEY CAN HEAR YOU?'. In recent history with Livya Haidamane's death he's been fucking whiplashed by Hibrides immediately being like "sooooo glad that bitch is dead" and Janeys coming out of his mourning period suddenly like "I HATE that dead bitchcuntwhore".

Brakul has long since considered them lost causes in these matters, but is deeply concerned they're going to get some sort of reprisal and that their routine badmouthing will by proxy get Livya's spirit nosing in on his own affairs. He's managed to cast aside some of his own loathing for her to intercede on their behalves and beg his quasi-mother in law to not take offense and to PLEASE stay up in the Fields or the moons or wherever the hell you people go.

[terrortwinunicorn]

BBQ and Fireworks

Damian's POV

I groan as the sunlight slips into Y/N's and my bedroom. Y/N groans lightly beside me as she pulls the blankets over her face.

"Who turned on the sun?" y/n whines.

I chuckled, "I think her name is Mother Nature," I said, ducking under the blankets. She turned to look at me. "I know she can be a bitch. But we better get up." I pressed a kiss to her forehead as she rolled to face me. She buried her face into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her.

"Why couldn't she leave the sun off a little longer?" she whines as she buries her face into my chest and wraps her arms around my torso.

"You have never been a morning person, y/n," I laughed lightly, kissing the top of her head as I rub her back.

"No," she pouts into my chest. "Besides, we didn't get home until after one."

I chuckled lightly. "I know," I said as I buried my face into the top of her head after placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Maybe we can catch a few more z's in."

"That would be nice, but we do have to continue the story," she murmured into my chest.

I chuckled more as she lifts her head up. Her chin resting on my chest "You're enjoying this walk down memory lane huh?" I asked pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Her grin told me everything I needed to know.

"I mean we have so many stories to share. Of course, some of them are more just for us like the scare we had in 2005" she says as I see the worry pass over her face again. "Of course you were there for me, but," I place a finger to her lips, hushing her.

"Shh. I know. And okay, so our lives would have been different, but honestly, amor, it would never change how much I love you. So we would have been parents," I shrug lightly. "And I probably would have been a bouncer or something along those lines." I reach up, brushing the hair from her face as I press another kiss to her lips. "Do you wanna talk about it? It might help.

Tears fill her eyes as she shakes her head 'yes'. "It might help," she murmured softly.

"Okay, so we talk about it. What do you want to talk about?" I asked, shifting to my back while still holding y/n close.

"Luis. I-no. I would have made sure that you continued your dream. Just because I would have been expecting doesn't mean you would have had to give up your dream," she said as she nestled into my chest.

"Babe, do you remember how I struggled while I was independent?" She nods. "I would have needed a steady income, and being away from you while you were expecting? No bueno. I wouldn't have done it and couldn't have done it." My hand instinctively moved to her stomach and rested on it. "You would have been expecting my son or daughter."

She tilted her head up, resting it on my shoulder. "So if I had been expecting a child, what would you have wanted? A son to carry on the Martinez name or a daughter?"

I chuckle lightly, "I don't know, but either way, the baby would have been a piece of you and a piece of me." I smile as my fingertips ghost over her stomach. "Y/N, I have been in love with you since I was seventeen. Had we created a life on June twenty fifth two thousand and five, I would have been over the moon."

She blushes lightly "But still I would have wanted you to continue your dreams of being a wrestler," she rolled to her stomach. My hand naturally rests on her ass cheek cupping it "Had we been expecting a little one we would have figured it out because I'm pretty sure your family and mine would have jumped in to help."

"I'm sure they would have," I smile. "Especially mama. She's already an amazing grandma to Tanya's kids. So no doubt she would have been a wonderful grandma to our child. It's funny, you know, nearly twenty years later, I still remember what was running through my mind as we waited for the results of the test."

"What was that?" y/n asked as she rested her cheek on her hand that was on my pec. She looked up at me. "Because I had some thoughts that weren't panicking."

"A few things. I did imagine dropping to one knee right there and asking for your hand," I said "That's one I regret just not doing even though the test was negative. I should have just asked you to marry me that day," I smile as I move my hand to the small of her back. I caress her lower back with the side of my thumb.

"I would have said yes by the way," she informed me.

I felt my cheeks warm, so I knew I was blushing. "I know that now. Back then, I was so scared, I would screw something up that I didn't. Anyway, I also sat there thinking if I was going to be a daddy, I wouldn't want to do it with anyone else but you, y/n." She smiles softly.

"And I wouldn't have wanted to be a mommy with anyone else but you, Luis," she smiles reaching up and cupping my cheek.

I took her hand in mine, kissing the palm of it before lacing our fingers. "But had we been expecting a baby, I imagined a little girl with your smile and your kind green eyes. I know she would have had me wrapped around her little finger, much like you do." I press a kiss to her pulse point on her wrist.

"I could picture a little boy. He would have your grin and gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and be like you in every way possible. And much like you do, he would have held the key to my heart," she said, looking at me as she moved up, pressing a kiss to my lips. I wrapped my arm around her as she held my face. I deepened the kiss.

Y/N moves on top of me, breaking the kiss. She looks into my eyes as she tucks her hair behind her ear. She bites her lip as I cup her cheek. She nuzzles against my hand.

"Te amo mucho, mi esposa hermosa." I said as tears sprung to my eyes.

"Te amo mi maravilloso esposo," she whispers before pressing a kiss to my lips. I ran my fingers into her hair as I deepened the kiss. She broke the kiss a few moments later. "What would you think if we tried for a baby?"

"At forty-two?" I asked as I saw the tears spill over and down her cheeks.

She nods slightly "If you don't want to," she whispers lightly "I mean," I stop her by kissing her and cupping her face.

"I would love nothing more than making and having a baby with you," I said "But is it safe?"

"We can talk with my gynecologist," she said as she lays her head down on my chest as she continued to lie on top of me. Her head on my chest as I absentmindedly play with her hair.

"We can," I said "But when?"

"I can call and make an appointment to see if it's safe. To see if I can carry to term," she murmured as she absentmindedly drew hearts on my pec.

I smiled softly. "Then once we get the green light?" I said.

"If we get the green light, we start trying. If it doesn't happen," I felt her lips curve into a smile, "It's not a bad thing because making love is our favorite pastime anyways."

I laughed heartily. "I mean you do have me there," I said.

She picked her head up. A smile spread across her face "We could always just practice too," she giggles lightly as I brought her to my lips.

"No time like the present to start practicing," I said intertwining my fingers into her hair as the kiss turns passionate fast. Our tongues twisting and turning together.

She broke the kiss, sitting up on her knees on either side of my waist. She smiles at me as she crosses her arms to take off her shirt. Then we hear a crash and swear words drifting from downstairs.

"That didn't sound good," she said looking at me.

I agreed, and we both got up, racing downstairs, taking them two at a time. We ran into the kitchen. I stopped Y/N from running by throwing my arm out to stop her. Our glass-top kitchen table was shattered into a million pieces. Demi stood there in shock, panting her face, while Matt stood with an equally shocked expression, a frying pan and food at his feet.

"What the fuck happened?!" I asked.

"I had made breakfast and was putting the frying pan onto the table. The handle broke and down it went. It hit the table and the table imploded," Matt explains.

"No one was hurt?" asked y/n.

"No we are all good. Dogs are in the living room eating their breakfast," said Demi "And we will replace the table."

"Don't worry about that right now," I said "We have to clean this mess up," I gesture as I push y/n behind me "Let's go get dressed and some shoes on."

Y/N nodded before Demi held up a hand. "Wait!" she exclaimed.

"What?" I asked.

"This won't affect the barbecue story?" she looked like a little kid who was just told they were on Santa's naughty list.

Y/N began giggling, making me chuckle. "No. We promise. It will be a little delayed today," I said, turning and ushered Y/N forward by the small of her back. "Vamos, amor."

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

After cleaning the kitchen and making sure all the glass was cleaned up, Matt and I took the base of the table out to the garage. I had talked to my buddy and he said he would be able to fix the table. Since the base is intact, he would look for a glass top first thing Monday since today was a Saturday.

"Okay," I said as we all sat around the media room. Luckily, y/n had some TV trays so we could eat breakfast, which y/n ordered from hers and my favorite little cafe. They had stellar smoothies and some pretty amazing breakfast pizza. So as we settled in to eat that, we figured we would begin the story: "Now the barbecue was held at my Pops' place."

"Yeah that's why the Fitzpatricks weren't invited. Pops never liked them," y/n added as she grabbed my smoothie, taking a quick drink from it. I raised an eyebrow and she grinned at me. She knew full well that grin could allow her to get away with anything from me.

We had soft music playing in the background. (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons by Nat King Cole serenaded us.

"Ironically, this song is what woke us up that Sunday, July third, two thousand and five," I said.

🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

Sunday, July 3, 2005

(I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons woke y/n up first. She sighed contently beside me as I was awoken by a gentle kiss to the cheek. I smile as my eyes flutter open. They fell to y/n and she smiled at me.

"Buenos días Luis," she said softly as I reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Buenos días y/n," I said cupping her cheek as she nuzzles into my hand.

"Your pops is playing Nat King Cole again," she said, moving closer to me.

"Yeah. It's Sunday. Easy listening morning," I said as she snuggled into me.

"Can we get up and dance?" she murmured into my chest.

"Where? Here?" I asked stupidly.

"No, Luis, on the roof," she giggled as she pulled back to look at me.

I chuckled, "Okay. Stupid question. But yes," as I moved to get up. I stood and held my hand out to her. "¿Puedo tener este baile?"

"Sí," she smiles as she takes my hand and gets out of bed. I spin her to me and we begin dancing. "This is such a pretty song."

She looks up at me. Our eyes meeting and the world stood still as we danced to the old standard. As the song turns to The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra. Y/N grins as I continue to dance with her.

"One more dance," I pout.

"Okay," she said as I attempted to do a spin forgetting about the rug by my bed. We got tangled in it and we both fell to the bed with me on top of y/n. Y/N began giggling as she looked up at me. "Smooth move Martínez. What do you call that?" she teased me.

"The um uh," I stutter as This Guy Is In Love With You by Steve Tyrell started. I blush as she cupped my cheek. Her eyes meeting mine.

"It's fine," she whispers as she nuzzles her nose against mine "But um maybe you should get off me now."

"Oh. Right," I blush as I quickly got up.

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After dressing, we came downstairs to the melodic melody of Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley.

Pops was busily making salads for the barbecue.

"Hola Señor Martínez," y/n smiles as we walked into the kitchen.

"Buenos días chicos," he smiled as At Last by Etta James began.

"Is there anything we could help with?" I asked.

"Yes. Wrapping the silverware in a napkin," he nodded to the table where red, blue and white silverware and napkins sat along with an empty stars and stripes basket.

"We can do that," y/n smiles as we walked over to the kitchen table. I held a chair for y/n as she sat. "L-O-V-E" by Nat King Cole began as I slipped into the chair beside her. "Señor Martinez?"

"Yes y/n?" he asked.

"What started easy listening Sundays?" she asked.

Pops chuckled, "It actually started with Luis's sister Tanya. When she was really little and sometimes wouldn't go down for her nap, Diana and I would play all the old standards and easy listening songs. It continued with Luis for the first few months of his life until he, Diana, and Tanya moved back to Puerto Rico."

"Oh," y/n looked like she shouldn't have brought it up.

"Don't worry about it y/n," I whisper.

"Luis is right. Don't worry yourself. I just continued it to soothe my soul," said Pops.

"Mama actually did it in Puerto Rico too," I said as "These Arms Of Mine" by Otis Redding began. "Probably what started my love of music."

Y/N laughs lightly, "How do you go from Otis Redding to Metallica and Killswitch Engage?" she asked, looking at me.

"I still love the standards. I just happen to be a metal head," I explained as my hand brushes against Y/N's as we put a set of utensils and a napkin in the basket at the same time. I blush as "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" by Paul Anka began. Y/N quickly looks away as she started her next set of utensils.

"We can change the music," offers Pops "I know you brought some cds."

I looked over my shoulder at Pops, feeling both thankful and a bit shocked.

"Señor Martínez y-y-y-you don't have to do that," stammers y/n.

"I don't mind," he smiles as he goes to his CD player. He took out his CDs and placed in some of y/n's that Misty had burned for her. He pressed the button and the tray slid back into the machine. This I Promise You by NSYNC began. He smiles at us, "Oh this is pretty."

Y/N blushes lightly as I looked at her with a smile "Um it's This I Promise You by NSYNC," y/n smiles "It's actually one of my favorite songs."

"Well I like it," Pops proclaimed.

I looked at Pops and he smiled at me. He mimes to me to ask y/n to dance. I mouthed no to him. He persisted and again I mouthed no. He gave me a stern look as 'of course' y/n's song from when she was in love with the boys from Boston, Please Don't Go Girl by New Kids on the Block began. Pops again gestures for me to ask y/n to dance. I concede.

"Y/N would you dance with me?" I asked.

Y/N is a bit taken aback. "Now?" she asked.

"Hey. We danced upstairs to Nat King Cole," I said.

Y/N blushes lightly "I remember," she whispered.

"Come on. Dance with me," I nudge her lightly as I stand offering her my hand as she already owned my heart.

She took my hand and rose to her feet. I walked her to the middle of the kitchen where there was room. I took her into my arms.

"Remember us doing this at thirteen?" she asked as we sway to the song. Every once in a while I added a turn.

"We were practicing for our first boy girl party that was happening for Angie's fourteenth birthday. And we knew there was going to be slow dancing," I smile.

"I think we were both nervous," she said as I looked down at her.

"I got a secret," I whispered as she raised an eyebrow.

"And that is?" she asked quietly.

"I'm as nervous now as I was back then," I admit as I'll Be Loving You (Forever) by New Kids on the Block began.

She smiles softly as she cups my cheek and caresses it gently with the side of her thumb "Don't be nervous Luis," she murmured quietly "It's just me."

"That's why I am nervous," I said, my emotions choking me.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you are you," I said.

She stood on tiptoe, cupping one of my cheeks while kissing the other as 'My Favorite Girl' by New Kids on the Block began making y/n giggle.

"Misty really found New Kids on the Block, huh?" she asked.

I chuckled and nod "Yeah she did," I said spinning her as we dance to the faster pace song.

"But we should probably finish the task your Pops assigned to us," she said, touching my bicep as 'Since You Walked Into My Life' once again by New Kids on the Block began.

"One more dance?" I request.

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"Hold on," said Demi making Matt groan.

"What?" I asked.

"What happened to your Pops during this time?" asked Demi.

"Well actually.."

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"Sure," smiles y/n "Is that okay Señor Mar-Luis where is your pops?"

I turn and Pops had disappeared as had the salads he had been making.

"I-I-I honestly don't know," I said "POPS?!" I call out. He reappears from the backyard.

"Oh. There you are," said y/n "Once we finish the utensils is there anything else we can do to help?" she sat before beginning to

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "You two look shaken up."

"We are fine. We just were confused as to where you went," I said.

"Sorry I didn't tell you two. It's just you two look so cozy and sweet dancing and talking, that I didn't want to disturb you," said Pops.

"Well thanks Pops" I said with a smile "We did have fun dancing."

Y/N smiles softly "We did. And reminiscing," she said looking at me.

"Plenty of reminiscing," I said, as "I Can't Do It Without You" by Joey McIntyre plays.

"I definitely love walks down memory lane, especially when it's with you," y/n smiles softly at me as "Walk Me Home" by Mandy Moore begins to play, and y/n starts singing the song softly. I don't think she was even aware.

Pops raised an eyebrow but a soft smile forms on his face. He looks at me "You might want to help her," he gestures as y/n was wrapping the utensils while y/n continues to sing. He raised an eyebrow because I was just so enthralled by y/n singing I forgot what I was doing.

"Oh. Sorry y/n," I said as I quickly said "I Got You Babe" by Sonny and Cher began.

"No worries. I got you Babe," she playfully nudged me as we began singing along to the song.

"I forgot how fun singing with you was," I said, smiling as Y/N glanced at me when "Who Needs The World" by Nick Carter began. My eyes met Y/N's, and we both gulped. Y/N was the first to break eye contact.

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"How my heart didn't leap from my chest at that moment still amazes me," admits y/n. "Because those lyrics, holy fuck, they encompass us."

I nod "So did the next song that started right after," I said.

"You mean 'Heart Without A Home (I'll Be Yours)'?" asked y/n. "Yeah. Most definitely."

"I'm looking up these lyrics!" said Demi pulling out her phone as she quickly types 'Who Needs The World'. She read the lyrics her mouth moving as she read them.

Y/N and I grin at each other as "I Got You" by Nick Carter starts at our place, as Demi continues to read lyrics for 'Who Needs the World' and 'Heart Without A Home (I'll Be Yours)'.

"Wow. These lyrics are you," she said looking at us as she realized a song was playing "But not as much as these do."

"Demi. Matt. Welcome to our Road Trip playlist. Y/N literally sat making the playlist on Spotify a couple of weeks ago, when we stumbled upon the CDs while we sorted through stuff," I laughed.

Demi's mouth drops. "Wait, so the music that's been playing is the CDs Misty made for your road trip?" She asked.

"Yes, because it was literally the music we used for the barbecue. Should we skip ahead slightly?" I asked, "because getting things ready was basically uneventful after that little realization."

"Please? Listening to you talk about rolling utensils was boring," said Matt, as Demi was quickly opening Shazam to find out the next song.

Y/N and I glance at each other because we knew we would get.....

"HOLY FUCK!!! TWO BECOME ONE?! MISTY WAS TROLLING YOU BEFORE TROLLING WAS A THING!!" exclaimed Demi loudly, making y/n jolt slightly.

"Way to startle half of your storytellers and me," said Matt as he jumped too.

"Sorry y/n," said Demi.

"No te preocupes, hermana," smiles Y/N as she stood. "Babe, you wanna start the next half while I go to the bathroom?" "You Make Me Smile" by Jennifer Love Hewitt began.

"How about we take a small intermission?" I suggest "We all could use a bathroom break and stretch break."

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After about ten or fifteen minutes we all reconvene in the living room. Y/N had made up a snack tray and brought in ice water with lemons and strawberries in it.

"Made a snack and water with lemons and strawberries," y/n smiles as she sat the tray down onto the coffee table.

"Gracias mi amor hermosa," I said as y/n sat beside me. I kissed her cheek.

"De nada mi mundo," she said, kissing my cheek. As Matt grabbed a plate, he took some crackers, cheese, and meat from the tray before pouring some water for Demi and himself.

"Now back to the story," said Demi as she plated some snacks for herself.

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The barbecue was just starting. My Pops was manning the grill while my sister and her boyfriend helped him. Mama and my stepfather were putting the drinks on ice while y/n and I greeted guests as they arrived and directed them to the backyard.

"You look radiant,” I told y/n. She wore a blue jean skirt, a white sleeveless shirt with red trim and blue stars. She also had white platform sandals. She had her hair in a ponytail, and in it, she wore a red, white, and blue ribbon.

Y/N blushes lightly as we sat on the front porch waiting for the guests that were slowly trickling in. Friends from the neighborhood, friends that are more like family, etc.

"Gracias Luis,” she murmured lightly as she looked at me “You look,” she eyes me up and down “Te ves muy caliente,” she smirks.

I swallow hard while blushing. “Gracias, y/n,” I said. She winks at me as Charlie walks up with a watermelon. "Resist it,” I smirk at y/n.

“Hey,” smiles Charlie as y/n gives him a smile, and I can see her wanting to say something before y/n takes the watermelon.

“I carried a watermelon,” y/n giggles as she passed me as I quickly tap her ass and Charlie raised an eyebrow at me a smirk on his face as y/n walked into the house.

“I saw that!” chuckled Charlie as You Make Me Smile by Jennifer Love Hewitt drifted from inside.

“Saw what?” I asked innocently.

"The ass tap. So you finally got a set, and told y/n how you feel?" said Charlie as he leaned against the banister of my front porch, folding his arms. He chuckled lightly.

“No. I don't have those types of feelings, Charlie. Y/N is my best friend. That's it,” I said as 'Crush' by Mandy Moore was floating out as Y/N walks back out. I smile brightly as she sat in my lap.

“Charlie, take my chair. I have a seat in Luis's lap,” she said as she draped her arm lazily around my neck.

Charlie chuckled as he pushed off the banister and sat down in the chair that was occupied about two minutes earlier.

“Thanks, y/n,” he said as he gave me a look, while y/n was singing the song directly to me.

“You’re welcome Charlie. Where’s Cammy?” asked y/n as she giggled as the song ended.

"Working at her parents' bodega,” he said as My Girl by The Temptations began and I absentmindedly started singing.

Y/N smiles down at me as I kiss her shoulder and sing it to her like I did when we were thirteen.

“Uh huh,” mutters Charlie as he sits back while Bianca brings us three beers.

Bianca and he exchanged looks as I was signing 'My Girl' to y/n, who smiled softly and caressed my cheek. As 'Shape of My Heart' by Backstreet Boys began, y/n started singing, drawing my attention to her.

“Charlie, let's leave the lovebirds alone,” said Bianca as we both looked at her.

“We aren't lovebirds!” we said together.

“Jinx. You owe me a soda!” y/n giggles, making me smile as she doesn't miss a beat saying what we would as kids when we parroted each other.

“I do,” I said, “but you two have it wrong.”

“Exactly. We're best friends. Do we have a flirty relationship? Yes. But that's where it ends,” said Y/N as "It's Gotta Be You" by Backstreet Boys began.

“Exactly,” I agreed. Obviously, we were both conveniently leaving the elephant out of the conversation. That a week ago we had slept together and, well, just about three days ago we were going to sleep together again, had my Pops not interrupted us.

“Okay,” said Charlie, and Bianca.

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A few hours later......

The sky was beginning to be painted by dusk. Pops turned on the lights over our backyard patio. Y/N and I were seated together on the outdoor wicker love seat. Charlie sat in one of the matching chairs, Anson in the other matching chair as Bianca, Salvatore, and Jaymes sat on the matching sofa. We were talking while the rest of the guests mingled with one another.

“I still can't believe Angie and Georgia are getting married tomorrow,” said y/n as she raised her beer bottle to her lips, and took a hearty drink.

“Neither can I,” I said as I draped an arm across the back of the love seat, when "When I Found You" by Britney Spears filled the air. “About time.”

Charlie, Bianca and Salvatore exchange glances with one another. Bianca smirks at Salvatore before they both dissolve into giggles. Jaymes and Anson look at one another and Jaymes shrugs.

"Anson. Jay. These three lunkheads,” I gesture to Charlie, Salvatore, and Bianca, “are probably thinking my time would pertain to y/n and me because they're convinced we,” I indicated y/n and me, “are in love with one another."

“You’re not?” asked Jaymes, which sent Charlie, Bianca, and Salvatore into a fit of laughter.

I rolled my eyes at the three laughing hyenas “No,” I said as convincingly as I could “Just best friends. Right, Squish?”

“Right,” said y/n as she looked at me out of the corner of her eye. I don't think either one of us even bought that weak argument as "You Got A Way" by Shania Twain began. Y/N started singing along with the track. The entire party stopped what they were doing and gathered around us.

She had the entire party's attention as it really seemed more of a duet than Y/N singing along with Shania Twain. I was, as always, mesmerized by Y/N. The song ends and the entire party applauded. Y/N looked around and quickly hid her face into my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her.

“Y/N, you can really sing,” Mama offered.

Y/N turned her face towards Mama. “I-I-I,” she stuttered, “can?”

Mamá nods. "Of course. You have a beautiful voice. Would you maybe sing another song? Charlie can play guitar,” she said.

Charlie nods, “Yeah. Luis, can I borrow your acoustic guitar?” he asked.

“I-I-I,” Y/N held tightly to me.

“I don't know, mamá. Y/N is shy,” I said, trying to help her out.

“Y/N you don't have to sing if you don't want to,” says Pops and she gives him a grateful smile.

“Pops is right. You don't have to do anything you don't want to,” I said, my arm still securely and protectively around her. She looked up at me, her eyes almost pleading that I don't let go. I gave her a reassuring look that I had her back.

"Stay by me?" she asked, sitting up and focusing on me. I nodded.

“Siempre,” I whispered, holding up my pinkie.

“Y para siempre,” she whispered, linking her pinkie with mine.

I rested my forehead against hers. If there's any doubt amongst anyone at the party about our affection for one another, it would have been definitely out the window with this display.

“Remember,” I cupped her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You don't have to do it,” I looked straight into her eyes.

“I know,” she murmured as she cupped my cheek, “but I will as long as you are at my side.”

“I won't budge,” I said. “Come with me to get my acoustic guitar.”

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Upstairs......

“Now remember,” I reiterated as I opened the guitar case, “you don't have to sing for everyone.”

“I know, Luis. But,” she hugs my arm, “if you stay by me,” her arm snaked down mine before she intertwined our fingers, “and hold my hand, I will.”

I smiled before kissing her forehead. “If you asked me to dress like a bee and buzz around you to make you feel at ease, I would. You know that,” she nods as she hugged me. I wrapped her in my arms, holding her close.

“Then,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, “let's go back to the party before everyone gets the wrong idea.”

I chuckled, "Good thing you chose a neutral-colored lip tonight,” I teased, “or people would know you kissed me.”

Y/N giggled before pie-facing me, “Dweeb,” she teased.

I grabbed her hand, kissing her palm. “But I would not mind,” I explained, kissing her softly on the lips. I pulled back as her eyes fluttered open, our eyes meeting once again. “But before Mamá and Pops start looking for us.”

She giggles as I shut the guitar case, relocked it, and grabbed the handle in one hand and Y/N's hand in the other.

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Back downstairs......

I hand Charlie my acoustic guitar case. He quickly opens it and takes out the guitar. He tunes it before he looks at y/n.

“What do you want to sing?” he asked, looking at y/n as we sat back down on the love seat. I took her hand, lacing our fingers.

“Remember. I got you,” I whispered to her as I pressed a kiss to her temple. She gives me a small smile. Our eyes meeting and our unspoken bond practically screams to each other.

“Do you know Sweet Kisses by Jessica Simpson?” she asked just looking at Charlie.

“No. But I can look it up on a laptop,” he said.

"Let me grab mine,” said Salvatore as he ran down the back steps and hopped the fence that separated Pops' backyard and the Ottomano's backyard. He got back about two minutes later, handing Charlie the laptop. “Here, Charlie.”

“Thanks, Sal,” he said. “What’s the song again?” he asked y/n.

“Sweet Kisses by Jessica Simpson,” y/n said and Charlie quickly types it in. So he could have the cords.

"Whenever you're ready,” Charlie smiles. Y/N nods and Charlie began playing and y/n began singing. I looked around. She commands their undivided attention.

She has her eyes closed as she sang but she held my hand none the less. I guess for comfort and confidence.

I lean over and whisper "You good?”

She nods as she opens her eyes as the song wound down. Everyone applauded.

“Encore?” Bianca begs.

Y/N looks at Charlie and he shrugged "It's up to you," he told her.

Y/N smiles before she looks to me and then back at Charlie “Dreaming of You by Selena.” The gasps from the guests made her bite her lip "Maybe. Maybe. Um.”

“No. Please sing it,” said Tanya" I honestly think you could do it justice.”

Y/N looks at me and I nod "Yeah. I think you can,” I smile.

"Okay,” y/n nods looking at me before turning to Charlie “Dreaming of You,” she told him confidently. He didn't have to look those cords up he knew them.

"Whenever you're ready,” he said.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded at Charlie. He began playing and Y/N began singing. The guests were all slack-jawed as Y/N turned to me. She was singing to me. At that moment, no one else existed. It was Y/N and me.

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"And now it's your wedding song,” cries Demi.

Y/N smiles before looking at me “That song played a significant role in our lives. I couldn't,” she smiled softly taking my hand “we couldn't not have it as our wedding song. Because it's our song.”

" Yeah it is,” I said kissing y/n's forehead “It's our forever song.”

Y/N smiles as tears fill her eyes as I Could Fall In Love by Selena filled the house “Kinda like this song too,” she smiles as she kissed my lips “I'm never gonna let you go Luis.”

“Good because I'm never gonna let you go,” I said cupping her cheek as I rested my forehead against hers "But we should finish this story.”

She giggles as her eyes shimmer with tears “Yeah,” she murmured against my lips.

We settle back into the sofa.

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At the end of the night, y/n and I sat on the roof of Pops's place; we had crawled out of my bedroom window and sat there. The barbecue had finally ended, and everyone had gone home or to watch fireworks.

Y/N laid her head on my shoulder as we watched the fireworks from the roof.

"You good, Squish?" I asked, kissing the top of her head.

She nods gently, "Yeah, Pookie, I am. Why?" she asked.

I shook my head “No reason. I just know you stepped outside your comfort zone today. Sure you played Sandy in Grease Junior year but you couldn't see everyone while on stage,” I said.

She hugs my arm as she rests her chin on my shoulder as she looked at me "I had you at my side,” she said as she leans up kissing my cheek “With you. I can conquer anything.”

I turned to look at her. I kissed her forehead before resting my forehead against hers. Our eyes meeting “Ditto,” I said. She blushes lightly as our lips hover near one another.

She cups my cheek as she nods. I press my lips to hers before wrapping my arms around her waist as she wraps her arms around my neck.

The make out session turns heated quickly. My lips move from hers down her cheek down her jawline to the curve of her neck. She moans as she tilted her head allowing me more access to continue my assault on her neck. My hand cups her breast. Making her moan even more. Her arms moved from my neck as her hands pressed into my chest. Her one hand moving down my chest and to my abs.

“Luis. Make me feel loved,” she breathes out as I continue leaving a nice bruise on her neck. I pulled from her neck and looked at her. My eyes wide as she lifts her head to look at me "Did you hear me?!”

I nod, "Does that mean what I think it means?” I asked.

" Yes fuck me into oblivion,” she said cupping my face and pressing her lips to mine.

We quickly stood and climbed back into my bedroom. I grabbed her and pressed my lips onto hers. Moving her backwards towards my bed. I pushed her to the bed. She looked up at me with lust filled eyes. Her chest heaving already. My growing erection stretching the fabric of my boxer briefs and basketball shorts.

“God, I want you so much,” I said with a low growl.

“Then take me,” she said, as she moved up my bed, as her eyes never left mine.

I smirk as I climbed onto the bed. I crawl towards her as she moves up the bed until her head hit the pillows. I hovered over her as she wrapped her arms around my neck as I lean down pressing a smoldering kiss to her pouty lips. She quickly returned the kiss as our hands roam each other's bodies.

Breaking the kiss I sat up and remove my t-shirt. She bit her lip as her hands caress their way down my chest. Stopping at the waist band of my shorts. She moved them down off my hip. She licked her lips as my dick stretched the fabric to my boxer briefs. Pre cum already marked a spot on them. I got them off the rest of the way and kicked them to the floor.

"You're far to clothed,” I said grabbing her shirt and tearing it in two. Her eyes met mine. She smirks.

“Someone is very very eager,” she said as her hand grazes my dick. She raised an eyebrow as her hand slipped into my bixer briefs and she pulls my dick out and began stroking me. She sat up and moved me to a laying down position.

She positioned herself between my legs before taking my boxer briefs off. She tossed them behind her. She took her tattered shirt off and flung it away from us. She moved off the bed and she rid herself of her skirt. I watched as she moves the straps of her bra down before she unhooked it. She covers her breasts before dropping the material from her hand. I lick my lips. My chest rising and falling quickly. I watched as she removed her lacy boy short undies. She stood before me in all her glory.

“Fuck,” I breath out as she moves onto the bed. She knelt between my legs. She took my dick into her hand and began slowly pumping. I groan as my head sank back into the pillow. My hands gripping the bed sheets. I watched as she moved down taking me into her mouth. Her mouth and hand working in sync with each other as she gave me a blow job. “Aww fuck y/n. That,” I grunt as I thrust my hips up driving myself deeper down y/n's throat. Surprisingly she took as she continued to give me the most amazing blow job. Her head bobbing and her tongue expertly licking me as her hand strokes what she couldn't fit into her mouth “Y/N I'm gonna cum!” she removed her mouth from my dick “What are you doing?” I breathe out.

"Getting a condom. Your pounding my pussy,” she purrs as she leans forwarded pressing her lips to mine and I can taste me on them. I watch as she grabbed a box of condoms from her bag “These are new. I just bought them,” she tossed the box onto my chest “Roll one on and fuck me into the mattress.”

I growl as I opened the package and took a condom out. I quickly opened the wrapping pulling the condom from it. I slipped it onto my dick before grabbing y/n and throwing her to the bed. I hover over her as my hand slowly massages her clit. She bit her lip as her eyes roll into the back of her head. I insert a finger into her pussy making her gasp “Luis,” my name falling from her lips in a breathy moan. I smirk as I insert another finger and thrust. She is whimpering beneath me as I insert my ring finger. Her pussy sucking them in and grabbing hold as I thrust into her. “Lu-is,” she grunts out. Her hips thrusting into my hand “I'm going to cum!” she cries out as I removed my fingers from her pussy. Her eyes are blown as she looks at me.

I lined myself at her entrance and offer just the head of my dick. She adjusted to me quickly as I slowly slid into her. One quick thrust and I'm into her fully. She let out a loud moan and I began moving my hips. Her hips thrusting up and meeting mine. The room is filled with grunts, moans, and slapping of skin as I did a I was asked and pound into her pussy.

“God you feel so good!” I grunt as I thrust into her.

“Fuck,” she bit her lip “God Luis. That feels good!”

The dance continues for a few minutes more. Before one final thrust and I was filling the condom with my seed. I let my dick go limp before pulling from her. I tied the condom and went to throw it out in my bathroom waste basket.

I walked back out before laying beside y/n in the bed. I wrapped my arms around her. Kissing her cheek.

“Now that, I'm definitely going to remember,” I said as she placed her hand over mine, lacing our fingers as I covered us.

“Me too,” she said as I slipped my arm underneath her head. She moves in close to me. She yawns lightly.

“But now we should get some sleep,” I said and she nods in agreement.

“We do have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” she murmured as her eyes grow heavy with sleep.

“That we do,” I said as I slowly followed her into slumber.

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Demi sat across from us. Her jaw hanging opened “And that was?” she asked.

“One hundred percent true,” said y/n.

“Holy fuck,” said Matt.

“And it was also the last time until ten months ago,” I said.

Y/N nods “Yes. Although I do remember every small detail of that one,” she said smiling at me with a small yawn.

"Me too,” I said yawning myself before kissing her forehead “What do you say we call it a night?”

She nods sleepily “Sounds good,” she said.

Demi yawns herself “Yeah. Next up the wedding!” she cheers sleepily. Matt chuckled.

We called it a night and all went to bed. Walking down memory lane has been fun and I was kind of sad to see this chapter end with the wedding.

Tag List: @eringobragh420 @magicalbuttertarts @madhatterbri @keekee-23 @loki69zowens @caramara3 @bloodlinesbabe93 @miss-kuki-nz @surdelcielo @elaineoneill570 @hotwheels1108 @violetpenguinkris @southerngothicpunk

[rlyehtaxidermist]

gameplay thoughts (story thoughts take longer):

definitely the strongest of the series. real-time party member switching in particular is a godsend, though I miss Torna's way of handling it where switching was accompanied by unique arts, and wish I could set my own orderings. (That said, I'm maining Sena with secondary Noah, so it's not a huge thing.)

the class change mechanics were also a step up on XB2's blade changes, though there's obviously balance issues between them that get starker once you start going into endgame content. tanks have always been hit or miss in xenoblade but XB3 defenders feel like they got the shortest stick yet. Lone Exile and Zephyr feel like the best of them - which might be my earlier Xenoblade dodge tank bias talking - but as someone who mained Dunban and Morag for a fair chunk of their respective games they still feel disappointing.

That said, most of the Attackers and Healers seem to be at worst "solid, but not great" - except for poor Segiri, who's stuck in JRPG Debuff Hell because Monolith is afraid of unleashing another Riki onto their unsuspecting single player metagame

Being able to save and load a bunch of separate party comps is really nice, especially with the depth of customisation; that said, some of the interface is still a bit confusing. In particular, I'm not sure what the character to class grades actually represent - it doesn't seem to be stat penalties, and they seem to level the class reasonably quickly once it's unlocked regardless of level - is it just initial unlock difficulty? or am I a bit biased by only using lower graded classes once I'm into the lategame anyway

The different chain orders/heroic chain bonuses also get hit by the balance slapstick pretty hard; Lanz and Mio's in particular are basically just a band-aid on the aforementioned Defender Problems (and by the end of the game, they were my healers anyway...). Then there's the Hero slot, which kind of feels wasted in a CA unless it's used on Fiona or Ashera. That said, all of their chain orders being free had me using them a lot more than I would otherwise.

I don't know how popular of a take this is but I do miss the XB2 elemental orb mechanics. I think a lot of people didn't like them because XB2's tutorials were like someone took "Paradox Interactive has the worst tutorials in gaming" as a dare, but if you actually figured out how to set the dominos up right, it was a hell of a thing to push them down, and XB3's chain attacks feel a bit more RNG reliant. That said, it removes the incentive to sit on a full CA bar for a quarter of some fights while you set things up.

(also they really should have an option to turn off the Chain Attack BGM for certain boss fights. Trombe!ing someone is funny when you get to choose when it happens but at some point I just want to hear the actual soundtrack)

The Collectopaedia taking over "bring me 20 bear asses" duty to make most sidequests a bit less grindy was nice, but it made the sidequests that did run that way even more obnoxious than usual. Valdi, I deeply sympathise with your passion for giant robots, but at least tell me how much the bar will go up when I go hunt down your random shopping lists.

xenoblade 3 was a good video game. i will arrange more serious thoughts when i am done ugly crying at the ending

[syrupbitee]

this is so ass im so sorry

[newx-menfan]

They definitely hinted at it in issue 6-7; with Laura going off with Kiden and Kamala mentioning it to Synch…

I definitely also think the writers are relying on the book being more political and progressive for sales… I just think it’s consistently blown up in their faces.

It’s like breaking up Speed and Prodigy- I would get it… if the writers were actually going to do anything WITH it (discuss the difficulties of human/mutant relationships or the possible difficulties David had in his relationship with Tommy…whose Jewish/Romani but white passing…) but so far Dante has had zero characterization or development. He is basically wallpaper.

The “protest” was the same thing- it’s a nice sentiment… but the harsh reality was we saw in the recent election things don’t always go that way. I 100% believe they thought Kamala Harris was going to win when they wrote it, and it 100% did feel tone deaf when Trump won.

Honestly, I kind of wonder if they were seeing what the fan reaction would be- they started out with “Hellion and Local” and it seemed like that was going to be the triangle… then they brought in Kiden since plenty of fans have wanted Laura bi/pan… then they brought it Synch?… for some reason??

I think they were trying to see who had the “best fan reaction”.

But I do fully agree with you- everything that’s been hyped up in this book hasn’t really come to fruition. We DIDN’T get an examination into Prodigy’s struggling with dating a human… or Sophie really being the “spy”… or any of the promised “smack downs”… or even them dealing with Mojo….

It WILL be funny/depressing if we all hyped ourselves up for a love triangle that NEVER happens lol

THE ISSUE IS DROPPING GUYS!!!

Make sure to pick it up Wednesday!!!! 😆😆😆

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

bnuuyloids... 🐰

plus a silly bonus: