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nonclassyparty · 1 year ago

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tuesday, 13:25, 18:02 (j.wy)

title; can you meet me halfway, right at the borderline, that's where i'm gonna wait for you, i'll be looking out, night and day, took my heart to the limit, and this is where i'll stay

summary; wooyoung is your sworn enemy but hooking up with him becomes a habit you just can't seem to quit (gen v au)

notes; part five of a drabble series called 'rule of thumb' set in the gen v universe where y/n is a bigender superhero and wooyoung is a blood bender. drabbles are posted in chronological order, there is no updating schedule.

playlist // my main masterlist // click to donate to palestine

san grumbles when wooyoung sticks his arms out between your two bodies and pushes you two apart to make room for himself in the middle.

you were showing san the drawings for an assignment that you had in one of your subjects where you had to design superhero merch. it wasn't really a useful class but you took it solely because you thought it might be fun and take some pressure off of you rather than taking something difficult for your elective to try and impress anyone.

it's not that you weren't ambitious, you'd like to be, but a bigender superhero was rarely a fan favorite and you were kind of tired this semester. if it wasn't for your friends dragging you to social events and putting your name out there, this school wouldn't care about you otherwise unless it was to use you in promotional videos to make sure everyone knows this is an 'inclusive' establishment. bullshit.

although, giving you a single-bed dorm already in your freshman year was nice. sometimes you could make due with the institution being performative.

wooyoung plasters himself to your side, looping his arm through your elbow, looking at your notebook and your brows furrow at the weird look san gives the two of you.

"oh, the little bald ones are so cute." wooyoung laughs, pointing at your top two drawings.

you frown, "that's starlight and queen maeve."

you were going to draw their hair on, of course.

he stifles a laugh, eyes holding something achingly close to endearment as he looks at you. "well, your bald starlight and queen maeve are very cute."

you pout again staring the drawings down. they weren't supposed to look cute, they were supposed to be badass.

"how were your exams?" he asks, fingers playing with the zipper of your hoodie as he presses even closer, all up in your business. you've gotten completely used to him hanging all over you, he does it to all of his friends. wooyoung is a naturally touchy and affectionate person.

"fine." you sigh, "i think i messed up one of the problems on my aerodynamics of human flight exam. it might bring my grade down."

wooyoung winces, "i doubt that's your fault, the class is a nightmare and brink always gives shit that he expects you to know even though he barely mentioned it during class or the study material."

"you got a 95 on it last year." you mumble, again embarrassed to reveal that you often compare yourself to wooyoung in terms of your academic success. you compare yourself to san and hongjoong as well but with wooyoung it's simply more personal. sworn enemies and all.

"you know that?" you stay quiet, not in the mood to disclose that you remember wooyoung jumping out of his seat last year filled with glee when the exam results were uploaded into the system.

he seems to bite back a smile, moving even closer that his nose almost brushes your cheek and you stubbornly refuse to look at him overcome with shyness. he continues quietly, "if you're not happy with your grade, i can help you prepare for the makeup exam in january, okay?"

you want to say something but you don't out of fear it'll come out choked, so you simply opt for a little nod as you pretend to do touch-ups on your (apparently) bad drawings.

"uh," you both turn to san who you completely forgot was even there, and who looks positively weirded out now. "i have class."

he turns to mingi (who you, also, forgot was even there), sitting opposite of you, "mingi you have class. let's go to class."

mingi looks up from his notebook, too engrossed in his work to pay attention to anyone else, "my class isn't for another ho-"

"you need an hour to get there, come on." san insists, already standing up and poor mingi has no choice but to pack his things up and get a move on.

san is still standing, staring at wooyoung and you, and you tilt your head to the side wondering if he's alright.

wooyoung stares blandly at him. "bye."

san opens his mouth before inevitably giving up and waving goodbye with a headshake.

well, that was weird.

"is san okay?" you ask, packing up your coloring pencils back into the pouch.

he takes your yellow pompompurin pencil case and looks at it with a small smirk before his expression turns puzzled, "what? oh, yeah. he's just an idiot."

you chuckle at that and he snorts as well when he sees the smile on your face.

"do you have anything else today?"

you shake your head.

"you wanna get food and go to my dorm?"

"okay."

it's a stupid question, really.

but it's been bugging you for some reason in this particular moment while wooyoung presses you against the pillows stacked up on his bed and his tongue slips inside your mouth.

he didn't give you a reason to ask it either, it was just something you were...curious about.

"are you sleeping with other people?"

wooyoung blinks at you a couple of times, face barely an inch away from yours, before he starts kissing down your neck. "no."

"why not?"

"hm?" his lips on your neck cause your breath to hitch as the warmth starts pooling in the lower pits of your stomach. you don't blame him for not following the conversation, you're barely keeping up as well.

"why not?"

he bites at your earlobe and you lightly push his arm as a reminder that you're waiting for an answer. "i don't want to."

"oh."

your lack of physical response to his advances makes him pull away. "what's the problem? do you want me to sleep with other people?"

your lips naturally tug downwards at that but you keep your thoughts to yourself. of course you don't fucking want him to sleep with other people. "it doesn't matter what i want, we aren't anything."

wooyoung groans at that, body still on top of you and holding himself up by his arms stuck on each side of your head.

"i was just curious as to why you're not?"

"and i just told you. because i don't want to."

"okay." you clear your throat feeling like you're about to walk into busy traffic on your own terms, "because you can, if you want. i don't want you to think that, like, you're not allowed or something."

"jesus christ, y/n." he gets completely off of you and sits on the bed with his legs tucked under. "okay, i get it. we're not anything and you have no problem with me sleeping with other people. i get it."

"okay." is all you can say in a much smaller voice because you kind of made him get the wrong idea. you certainly would have a problem with it but you'd never tell him that either because you know that a time will eventually come when wooyoung will find someone he actually wants. and he'll date them.

he stares at you with a frown that gets slightly deeper. "are you sleeping with other people?"

"of course not." you tell him honestly and don't miss the way his eyes glance at the left side of your chest where your heart resides. he was checking if you were telling the truth. you frown, did he really think you could want anyone else when you could be with him?

"then why do you think i am? you think i'd do something like that to you?"

"i'm not saying that." you sit up, feeling like the conversation derailed from the path you wanted it to take. you wanted wooyoung to know it was okay to have options, no matter how much it bothered you. you didn't want to be keeping him away from anything. "you wouldn't be doing anything to me, we aren't any-"

"we aren't anything, yeah, i know but i still don't want to." he firmly states, eyes gauging your reaction.

you swallow your own insecurities down and lean against his headboard. "it just makes it sound like we're exclusive or something. that's all."

"okay, maybe we should be."

"what do you mean?"

"exclusive. maybe we should be exclusive. it would be safer, for example."

"oh." you let out, scratching your cheek as you look around his room. the curtains are moved to let the sunlight in. "you'd want that?"

"i just suggested it, didn't i?"

"mmm..." you think about it, blush rising to your cheeks under his watchful gaze as he moves closer so that his leg is thrown over your thigh and he's nestled into your side.

you feel like being exclusive will only hurt you more in the long run but then again it will hurt in smaller fractions as well if wooyoung sleeps with other people.

one big hurt versus a dozen of smaller ones...they might inflict the same amount of pain if calculated properly. so you might as well decide to do it all at once when the time eventually comes. hopefully, it will feel like ripping off a band-aid.

"okay. we can be exclusive or...or if we decide to sleep with someone else we should tell each other. y'know, for safety reasons."

wooyoung's head picks up so he can look at you again, chin resting on your shoulder as he stares at you in frustration. "those are two entirely different things. i want to be exclusive, i don't want you to sleep with someone else and then come tell me about it."

you huff, "i won't be sleeping with other people."

you can't even imagine it really. you think wooyoung might've ruined you for other people. asshole.

"good. neither will i." he says simply, hand rubbing over your clothed stomach. "great. now that that's out of the way, do you want to pick up where we left off or do you want to do something else?"

you want to ask 'what else would we even do?' but you know that it will hurt his feelings again and you hate yourself for hurting him. it would be pretense either way. despite all the walls and boundaries you've put up, he's somehow managing to weasel his way through them one by one as the time goes by.

it would be a lie on your part to say that wooyoung and you have the same relationship you've had at the beginning of the semester let alone last year.

you've grown significantly closer, maybe even too close to the point where it's hard to distinguish where the friendship ends and wishful thinking begins. and you know the longer you allow for this to go on, the harder it will be to not get completely wrapped up in your delusions where wooyoung and you could be something more.

for now, you just kiss him though. you run your fingers through his soft hair and try to pour everything you are too afraid to say into the kiss, hoping he might understand. or hoping he might not.

it would be okay if whatever you tell him through kisses remains your little secret. he doesn't have to know.

#ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez imagine #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut

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miumiins · 26 days ago

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Thank you everyday for your art!! Your lineart work is absolutely gorgeous, and especially on calligraphy pens?? 😭 It's amazing!!

I used to do calligraphy, but I 'm now trying to practice a calligraphy pen with lineart, and I'm hoping to get lines as clean as yours. What type of nibs do you use? Do you switch them for different line thicknesses? Any tips you can offer? 🥹

I hope you have a great day 🌟

omg thank you so much!! as much of a struggle it can be, i do enjoy doing lineart a lot when i draw (mainly digitally but i’ve been having fun with these lil traditional drawings too) so it makes me happy to hear you say that 🥹

also im still super new to drawing w the gpen/calligraphy pen as i’ve only just gotten one for the first time about a month ago so i’m still slowly experimenting with them (and i’m also partially winging it to be really honest) but this is the pen/nibs i got! It came with a set of five different nibs, two each. Since this is my first time getting and using this kind of pen, i don’t really have anything to compare it to in terms of quality and such but it’s doing what i expected it to do for the most part LOL (also the bottle of ink that i got if anyone was interested)

(the rest is under the cut since it's kinda long haha)

My first initial drawings were drawn with the 004 nib from the set, whereas my more recent drawings were drawn with the 003 nib. (For filling in the solid black areas, i just used a micron brush pen)

For the most part, i pretty much used the same nib throughout the entire drawing for each one. Part of it is just me being lazy about changing it, but also, because these are postcard sized (about 6” x 4” / 148mm x 100mm) and not very big drawings in the first place, i didn’t really feel the need to switch nibs too much. If i was working on a larger canvas/paper, i might switch between nibs more often for more variety in line thickness, and if anything, i definitely would use one of the smaller nibs (like 001) for finer details

(also here's the paper i got that i drew all of these on. keep in mind that i ordered it off amazon jp but it was a set of five packs so now i have plenty to practice on LOL)

As far as tips for clean linework, a lot of this is stuff i do for digital art but i’ve been more or less applying the same logic to the stuff i’ve drawn traditionally recently (some of these might be really fundamental/obvious and you might know this already but it is kind of what helps me a bit):

▷Having a clear sketch of what you want to draw and where you want to place your lines is really helpful, both for digital and traditional art, but probably especially so for traditional art.

As someone who honestly avoided doing traditional drawings for so long, my biggest struggle was honestly getting a clean rough sketch down on paper and getting past the sketch stage to do anything more with the drawing. Part of it is, again, laziness on my part, as it’s a lot easier for me to do sketches and clean them up digitally since i heavily rely on undo as well as the lasso and transform tools to fix proportions and whatnot (plus, not being able to undo once you start inking also held me back, because i know that my hands aren’t the steadiest and will occasionally move unexpectedly when inking sdlkfg). That said, using my ipad as a light table and tracing my digital sketches onto paper is what got me past that hurdle so that i could experiment with more traditional art (though i know i should eventually work on just starting from scratch on paper too haha).

But having a clean sketch gives you a clear guide of where and how you want your lines to be, rather than just having a vague idea of how you want it to look and having to think on the spot about the placement of your lines at the same time as inking your drawing.

▷This is something i saw someone else point out in their tutorial once and i never really took notice of it until i saw it, but as you line over your sketch, keeping your line of sight on the path slightly ahead of where your pen is currently at kind of gives your brain a heads up of where your pen needs to go and your hand will naturally follow. It’s probably something that the more you draw, the more it comes to you subconsciously, like i kind of do this but i’m not super conscious of it, so you probably don’t need to get too hung up about keeping this in mind.

▷this is moreso a tip on line thickness rather than clean linework, but even without changing the nib or brush size, i like to manually vary the line thickness in various areas! This can be achieved by applying more or less pen pressure, and even if you can’t do it in one stroke, you can draw the initial line and go over the areas you want to thicken.

▷rotate your paper or canvas as necessary! When i draw digitally, i rotate my canvas a lot, as well as heavily rely on the flip canvas function. Obviously you can’t flip your canvas and continue to do lineart with traditional art, but rotating your paper can help with how you draw your lines. Sometimes it’s hard/uncomfortable for me to draw lines that go inward towards my drawing hand, so rotating the canvas so that the line flows outward makes it a little easier and more comfortable for me to draw.

▷draw with quick(ish) strokes! The slower your hand moves when you draw each stroke, the more wobbly your lines might become. Of course, if you draw each stroke too quickly, your lines will end up in a direction that doesn’t follow your initial sketch. This comes with time, and the more you draw, the more confidence you’ll gain in your lines once you have a grasp of how you draw them and you can adjust accordingly.

▷if watching natsume-sanchi’s videos has taught me anything, when you ink your traditional drawings, always start from the top-left (or top-right if you’re left handed) and work your way down and right so you don’t risk accidentally smudging the ink with your hand before it dries (i still somehow end up smudging the ink one way or another though LOL)

I’m not the best at putting how i do things into words since a lot of it is just based on feeling/in the moment but i hope any of this is helpful!

#anon #ask box #sorry for my handwriting it's hard for me to write nice digitally i've had to rewrite some of it multiple times sldkfjg #also it's cool that u used to do calligraphy!!#that's smth i wanna try out eventually but ohh my shaky and unreliable hands

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dark-frosted-heart · 2 years ago

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Memories of the Beasts - Clavis & Sariel (main route)

We start off with a literal bang in the castle. The trap of the day's an extra large confetti cannon in the drawing room. Fortunately, no guests were hurt; however, several servants were buried under the confetti. While the castle is by no means understaffed, Sariel would like Clavis to stop creating so much unnecessary work.

Clavis: But that trap made our stuffy guests laugh, didn't it? Tomorrow, Nokto should be reporting that negotiations have concluded. A job well done, wouldn't you say?

Sariel: If what you say comes true, then I would be happy. But please improve your methods...is what I've asked at least 1000 times already, but you never learn, do you?

Clavis: Never learn? That should be my line. You're getting old. All that chasing's bad for your lower back.

Sariel cracks his whip at Clavis. His stomach will be the first to suffer before his lower back. Yves, who's also present along with Jin, flinches away from the force of whip. Sariel has to be forceful for it to have any effect on Clavis, Jin says. And then sighs at how neither are acting their age.

Suddenly, another explosion goes off. Oh, Clavis threw a pepper bomb and fled. And there goes Sariel chasing after Clavis again. Jin recalls hearing about how sprinting strengthens one's lower back. But at the cost of exponentially increasing stress, Yves responds back. Once the footsteps fade, Jin decides to get a drink.

That night, Jin, Sariel, Leon, Yves, and Licht are at a bar. For a job well done on clearing up all the traps today, drinks will be on Jin. Sariel's drinks, not Leon's. Yves ordered some food for Sariel so that he doesn't drink on an empty stomach. He also cancelled Jin's cake order because he already reached his daily sugar intake.

Sariel's already downed his ale in a matter of seconds. The bar's got a great selection so he'll be trying them all out...is what he'd like to do. Clavis has been giving him a very hard time recently. Leon points out that his cup's creaking. Jin tells Sariel to take a deep breath, the cup did nothing wrong here.

Yves brings up how despite being on bad terms nowadays, Sariel and Clavis used to be teacher and student. They'd been together for so long, Yves wonders if they were false memories from when he was a child. Leon adds that Clavis learned how to pick locks from Sariel. The bureaucrat had no idea that would be the start of a teacher-student relationship or turn Clavis into a hellcat. Jin still remembers the time when Clavis would follow Sariel around like a duckling.

To this day, Sariel still sighs and finds himself wondering what happened. He pauses, as if a thought came to him, but brushes it off. Since Clavis has become full hellcat, he can't go back to the way he was as a kid. The best he can do is be a step ahead of him to minimize casualties. Jin says that without Sariel around, every day would be traps galore. Licht agrees and asks if there were traps that have failed that they're unaware about.

Jin says Clavis has always been a pain, but according to Sariel, Clavis was more difficult to deal with back then than he his now. Because back then, he was an innocent and reckless child. That reminds him, there was a day where Clavis cried in front of Sariel for the first time.

The story cuts to Clavis with Nokto. The latter's home earlier than usual. Nokto tells Clavis that he's just back for dinner; he'll be going out again later. Clavis reminds him to enjoy his nightly entertainments in moderation and Nokto counters that Clavis should take things in moderation himself. Is he talking about the confetti cannon? Clavis controlled the amount it'd fire. The negotiations went well, didn't they? Nokto agrees, they signed a contract on good terms.

Clavis: That's great. I'm glad to be of service to my younger brother.

Nokto: At the cost of increasing the wrinkles between Sariel's brows.

Nokto asks how he's on such bad terms with Sariel. Clavis says that they have different values. Clavis wants to feel joy and a sense of pleasure every day while Sariel just wants safety and peace. While Nokto agrees that joy means stimulation, he doesn't think they can continue being friends if he takes it too far. Must be hard for Sariel.

Clavis: I'm having one of those days when I'm feeling depressed because my joy was interrupted, you know?

Nokto: Not sure I can say much to someone who redecorated my room with bright colors. Surprises are supposed to make our days better, but I guess that didn't work out for you, Mr. "I used to love Sariel as a child".

Clavis: Next time I'll...

Nokto: Don't. I'm pretty sure you've cried at least once or twice when Sariel got mad at you.

Clavis: Never! On the contrary, I'm the one that made him cry.

Nokto doesn't believe it but Clavis claims that he saw it with his own golden eyes.

The story goes back to a time way before they met Emma, a time when the pleasure-loving leopard and the court devil were teacher and student.

Clavis: Sariel, it's morning! It's morning already! Your apprentice is here so wake up! What are you gonna teach me today?

Sariel: Ugh...Prince Clavis, we don't call it morning when it's before 4 in the morning when the sun hasn't even risen yet. For now, please get off.

Clavis: If you wake up then I'll get off! How 'bout that?

Sariel: I'm the master here aren't I?

Clavis: Sariel, wake up! This time I came when the sun rose. Aren't you proud?

Clavis: Since I'm your apprentice, it's only right for me to help my master!

Clavis: Listen to this, Sariel! I was able to unlock all the boxes in the treasury!

Clavis: This vial may look like it contains water, but when you smash it against the ground...!

Sariel: Your invention's potency is strong, so please show it to me in the gardens.

Clavis: Right?! My inventions are amazing!

Sariel!

In common room, Sariel lets out a long, long sigh. Jin's impressed by his lung capacity. Sariel suddenly flinches as he hears Clavis calling for him. Jin assures him that the prince isn't around. He's just starting to hear things. His younger brother's more attached to Sariel than he thought and he finds it cute. Only because it's not his problem, Sariel says. Regardless, he'll continue to act as Clavis' mentor since it's part of his duty to educate the princes and something Chevalier had told him to do. It's worth anyway since the prince is always eager to learn. Still, Sariel hopes that Clavis gets bored of it soon so that he can go back to his other duties. Jin's unsure about Clavis being one of those kids that frequently change interests.

One night Clavis ambushes Sariel and asks him to let him join him on a mission. Sariel regrets telling Jin that he'd be going on a mission. To Clavis, he tells the prince that he'll be in the way so he can't bring him, but Clavis insists that he won't.

Clavis: A apprentice grows by watching his master's back.

Sariel: You've seen it plently already.

Clavis: It's not enough because I'm still growing!

Sariel: What is that logic.

Clavis: You know what? I'm gonna tell everyone that you picked a lock.

Sariel: Be my guest.

Clavis: No! I'm comign with you.

Sariel: Where did the blackmail go?

Sariel tries to usher Clavis back to his room and have him wait for his return but the prince won't budge. He wants to watch Sariel and be of use to him. He promises to be good. Sariel relents; Clavis is going to follow him regardless. Fortunately the mission's just an inspection, but it's still dangerous so Clavis will need to listen to Sariel's every word.

Clavis is in a wonderful mood because he's going on his first mission with his master. Sariel reminds the prince to hold on tight so that he doesn't fall of their horse.

For their mission, they'll be going in to town to visit a baron who invites orphans to his mansion to provide them with meals. He sounds like a good guy and the town has a good reputation. However, there's something suspicious going on because the baron shouldn't have the funds to actually do this so they're investigating.

Sariel can feel a stomachache coming.

Clavis points at some beautiful flowers and Sariel tells him about what kind of flowers they are. Speaking of flowers, Clavis brings up how his mom once gave him sweets and flowers as a gift for getting a perfect score on a test. He says his mom makes the best sweets; he'll give some to Sariel next time because he's his master and Clavis wants to share what his favorites. And it'd make him mom happy too. The prince just loves his mom so much.

Clavis asks Sariel about what his mom's like, but Sariel wonders about that himself. He has no memory of his family. Clavis goes quiet for a bit before imagining what Sariel's parents are like. He says that Sariel got his beautiful black hair from his dad and eyes from his mom. He could've inherited his meticulousness from either parents. Do his parents wear glasses, are they early risers like Sariel, are they strict about manners? Or are they surprisingly crude? There are so many possibilities. Clavis then asks Sariel if he's looking forward to seeing them again, but that's not something he's ever thought about. But thanks to Clavis, he's going to end up imagining what it'd be like.

In town, Sariel disguises the both of them as street urchins. The baron will be providing meals today so they go to look for his mansion.

Sariel: Now then, is the baron black or white? We shall see

Sariel and Clavis: ... Black

The two spy on the mansion from outside. The way the baron looks at the children is as if he's appraising them and the servants look like they're in pain, like they're being forced to do bad things. Clavis takes a step closer but Sariel stops him or else they'll get caught. Clavis says that if they don't do something, both the children and servants will continue to suffer. Sariel says there's no point in going in blind. The baron's going to keep an eye out for them and they won't be able to gather evidence. He suggests waiting until nightfall but is cut off by Clavis saying that the kids might end up being dragged into bad things so it doesn't feel right to just wait.

The prince continues toward the mansion and a servant takes notice. They ask him if he's here for a meal. Sariel starts to say they're not, but Clavis interrupts to say that they are.

Clavis: We came from the next town over because we heard that this mansion served free meals. Right, big brother?

Sariel: Huh...?

Clover End (Clavis POV)

Heart End (Sariel POV)

Epilogue

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri summary

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bluejaybytes · 1 year ago

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It's like 3am and I'm waiting for FRs rollover to end SO! My top 3 art pieces I did this year under the readmore V

These aren't in any particular order, maimly because I'm the worlds biggest indecisive loser and already don't think I can realistically boil it down to ONLY 3 in the first place. SO

This piece was done in January, of my FR dragon Paradox, and I feel is some of the strongest in terms of shape, color, and rendering. Rendering WAS done in large part by my friend (heavymetalmutual), as he did the sketch of it for me, so that aspect isn't something I'd credit to myself. There ARE things I'd want to change, namely, the coloring on the mane is nnnot good. I wanted it to be patterned, but the pattern I chose really just does not fit the aesthetic. Also, some slight issues with the snout could be ironed out

Next, a redraw/redesign of a piece of my OC Lark, with the original from a few years back (and the original ORIGINAL being ANOTHER few years back). While my INTENDED goal here was to mimic the trainer portraits from gen 6, and I don't feel I met that, I think what I DID end up with is very good, as well as a massive improvement over the original. Skarmory took a lot of time and struggle, but I think he came out really nice as well, despite not being included in the original I was redrawing (Though, an old sketch from that drawing DID include Skarmory)

Finally, I genuinely can not pick between basically ALL of my Splatoon OC art from when I entered an autism induced art coma starting late October. I started using new brushes, playing around a lot more with different rendering techniques, seeing how well I could pull off lineless art, and generally just drawing much, MUCH more than my usual output of art. Since I wanted to only include one, I chose the first piece I did from when everything started, this headshot of my OC Basil, though I DO feel of all the busts I did, hers came out the best. Easily, I think, the best use of color from anything this year, the rendering is really good, and I feel genuinely quite proud of a lot of the littler details, like her earbuds around her neck and her glasses. But, again, with only a FEW exceptions, any one of the pieces I've done of my Splatoon OCs starting from late October has an argument for why it should have this spot, I'm very happy with both the quantity AND quality of the work I did

#my art #my OCs #HONORABLE MENTIONS:#-The art project I've been vagueing about for months. Its not anywhere near finished but its coming together well and has a ton of effort #-The like... vaguely a comic illustration I did of my sploon OCs. That one took me for fucking ever but came out really well #-My new Warriorsona. He's got a design I'm really happy with finally. unfortunately its extremely complicated and awful to draw. its so cute

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heraisgod · 2 years ago

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❤️‍🩹

For context before I answer: you came to a (formerly shy) professional social butterfly for advice who's had a fair amount of experience with friendships. I wanted to assert this first in case I sound like I'm glossing over matters a little too easily. It's not my intention to but it may be harder for me to draw from your angle since it's been such a long time for me.

Anyway, I can see that the root of your concerns essentially boils down to the idea that starting new friendships is terrifying especially if you're uncertain about whether or not they'll last long. I personally don't view people or friendships in general this way so it's not a concern for me at all.

Personally, I find it very easy to get along with people wherever I go. I will say, it's definitely a skill that took me time to master (mentioning so you don't think I'm brushing away the nervousness that can come with socializing, I was once a shy kid so I know what that's like), but once you have it down it's so easy to walk into rooms (or cities) and feel relief about the fact that you can find people to hang out with easily. Because of that, I never really can feel alone.

Moving on to the concern about creating new friendships, I don't necessarily see this as a bad thing, you know. In fact, I'm very open to it because so many of the surface friendships I have mindlessly made (I mean people I've gotten along with without trying to pursue an intimate friendship with) have taken me around the world and brought me so many amazing opportunities. You never know what awaits you when you bond with new people.

Furthermore, I think surface friendships are great and even essential. I like the idea of being able to have a good time with someone without us having a particularly intimate connection. You don't need to exclusively have a list of friends where you're close with every single one of them. I have friends all at different levels of closeness and some which I would turn to for different matters/interests than others. That ambiguity is very refreshing to me.

I am open to meeting all kinds of people regardless of who they are because they may surprise you. I never stop myself from interacting with someone because I don't think they have best friend potential or because I am not thinking long term. I'm just here to have a good time surrounded by other people who also want to have a good time. If we click, that's wonderful but if we don't that's fine as well.

In my opinion, I think it would be much healthier for you to approach friendships knowing that they may or may not last forever and whatever happens, it's gonna be okay. I'm someone who's already very comfortable with solitude (not to be confused with loneliness) and am willing to live with it if someone doesn't meet my standards.

[While we're on the topic of standards, you shoudn't be afraid of having them and you shouldn't compromise them out of fear of being alone (again something that'll dissipate if you develop more experience socializing and realize how easy it is to find people to get along with).]

If you see cutting off friends as something super awful and hurtful and terrible, you will find it difficult to feel happy in any relationship. You may not click with someone as you once used to and you won't feel so drawn to them anymore and that's okay. People are allowed to outgrow you just as you are allowed to outgrow them. There are so many more people out there for you to meet, it's not the end of the world if it doesn't end up working out. The length of any relationship means nothing.

I think your preconceived notions as well as your skepticism of meeting people if they're not long-term friendships is really interfering with the possibility of meeting some truly wonderful people, even if they do last a short period in your life. You're holding yourself back from so many wonderful possibilities over something so small and generalizing people as (bad trait) won't do you any good ever. I would suggest that you be open to friendships regardless of longevity because otherwise you'll be placing yourself in a position of "waiting" which will impede you from embracing the present moment. Be open to meeting people without conditions, put yourself out there from time to time and don't impose so much pressure on yourself or others to make things work. I love socializing and enjoying my time with people I just met regardless of how our friendship will turn out. I was put on this planet to have fun and so were you! I say give this different angle a chance and see how you feel about it. It's been very fruitful for me as I've mentioned. :)

I hope I covered all of your concerns as I had a lot to say on the matter and revised my response quite a few times (hence why I responded so late, this has been in my drafts for some time now)

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s0ngsandstars · 1 year ago

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hiya!! 1, 6, and 8 for the disability ask game, if you haven't already done them :3c

Putting it all under a read more because I do a lot of talking and I forgot how Tumblr deals with long posts. sdkjdfjgkdgn Also I apologize for how negative the last question turned out.

1. What disability/ies do you have? (and are they mental, physical, or both?)

Mental health wise I'm an absolute wreck. The things I consider disabling are DID (mostly the dissociation, I like my headmates), OCD, ADHD, Agoraphobia, Depression, and social anxiety that I heavily suspect is actually AvPD. C-PTSD is also awful, but it's like. Not as bad as the other stuff in terms of how much of my life and time is taken by it. Also like, all the sensory issues that come with being autistic is just awful. Other things too, but like. mostly just more anxiety stuff. sdkjndfgkjngjn I am a very anxious human being.

Physically I have FND (it manifests primarily as movement problems, and sometimes takes away my ability to move some or even all of my limbs entirely, though most usually my legs), arthritis, something related to hypermobility, and I heavily suspect POTS, but my doctors won't test me for it. *makes a peace sign* Also I'm deficient in vitamin D but my doctors won't prescribe me anything for it (idek why, it's been brushed aside like 3 times though even though it's been deficient for multiple tests of it). *makes a second peace sign* I also have glasses because I'm moderately near-sighted, but that's a very common thing.

I also have GERD and don't have a gallbladder, so food hates me sometimes, but that's like. So mild in comparison to other things. The worst part about that is that I have to wait a few hours before going to sleep after eating or I'll get sick. I almost forgot, I have NAFLD and so I'm banned from alcohol, even though I've never gotten drunk in my life, so that's a missed opportunity.

Probably something else I'm forgetting but, eh. sdkjndfgljdgn

6. What’s something good that’s come out of being disabled?

I feel like I'm more understanding of people? Like, it's definitely helped me with being more readily accepting of other people's experiences.

Also can I count synesthesia as a sometimes positive to my senses being fucked? Some sounds smell wonderful. I love the colors I see for people and things. Like, yeah some sounds can smell literally like burning rubber, but other sounds can smell like chocolate or sour candy or mint chocolate-chip ice cream, etc. etc. and it's lovely.

Fun thing too is my cane can double as a weapon if I need it to. So like, that's kind of neat.

8. Does your disability affect how you experience other parts of your identity? (gender, queerness, culture, even hobbies/life goals you’re very passionate about)

Yeah, definitely. DID made gender and attraction rather difficult to figure out, because of the bleed through of others' emotions and like blending etc. I went through quite a journey before deciding on just non-binary for gender. AroAce was also tricky to figure out, but I got there eventually. But I'm really happy with it, and now it's like, one of those questions I can answer if we're really dissociated and trying to figure out who's out. Narrows it down a little if I can answer the gender/sexuality questions. Not a whole lot cause we're polyfragmented, but hey, we'll get there eventually. sdkjndfgkjn

As for gender expression, I can't wear some things that I really want to. Like my movement issues make wearing certain shoes potentially dangerous, and I can't be in long or tight skirts. I don't have the energy to put on makeup any time I want to.

And it definitely effects my hobbies. I don't have the energy to draw most of the time now, and when I do I can only do it for short bits at a time. It's really frustrating, because I want to, I want to so much, but as soon as I get my tablet set up, I'm so exhausted I feel like crying and I have to lie down for a while or I'll feel ill. I have to jump on when I have the energy to do things like draw or cook. I do read a lot though (mostly fanfics). Reading doesn't require much energy, so reading is fantastic.

Life dreams, definitely. I can't go to school right now, I can't get a job, I can't travel.. My life is limited, and I can't do some of the things I dream of doing. I want to be a planetary meteorologist. I want to travel and see places. I want to do so many things. But I can't.

Trying to end this on a positive. I'm proud of what I've been able to do, even if it doesn't seem like a lot to someone who's abled. I've missed out on so many things, but that makes the things I've been able to do mean so much more.

#S Answers #Ask #Tesla tag #Disability #Long post #alcohol mention #idk how to tag this #calling this post good enough though I am so tired I need to sleep. sknjdfgjkdfng

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minutiaeoflife · 2 months ago

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The Little Prince

To be honest, watching and reading this story when I was still young, baffled me a lot. In order for me to understand this movie, I need to think more deeply than I ever should. So at first, I didn't like this because I wasn't able to fully grasp this entire story. But as I grew older and was able to experience inadequacy, I came to love this entire story, because I know now what this story lies beneath its philosophical meaning. But before we delve into this Little Prince thingy, I want to focus more on this little boy.

We'll name our little boy today by his nickname, Dodong.

Dodong's weight and height is appropriate for his age. He is currently 9 years old and a Grade 3 student.

When it comes to food, he's not a picky eater, except for the foods that he's not allowed to eat since Dodong has an allergy to seafood. Unlike other children with the same age as him, who throw tantrums to their parents whenever they don't get the food that they want.

He's already responsible at his age, he won't rely on his mom anymore, he does all these things on his own like taking a bath, brushing his teeth, getting his bag ready for school, and answering his assignments. Except for the fact that when he has an urgent assignment that needs to be worked on immediately, that's when his mother steps in to help him. One of the things his Mom does is to check his belongings, if it's still completely intact every after school session, since he had this tendency to lose his pencil case.

Like typical children, Dodong also won't do his assignments or tasks right after coming home from school, what he does first is he goes outside to play with his friends. In terms of his academic performance, he's doing well in school. His Mom shared with us that Dodong gets a high score in his quizzes or periodical exams. Although he can't read fluently, he can manage to understand the words or paragraphs that he is reading.

At this point, we will be going to have a shift of perspective and attention. From his Mom's perspective to Dodong's perspective. We were able to interview Dodong as he willingly agreed to be interviewed by us.

Observing Dodong during our visit, I think he's a reserved kid. He's too calm for his age; maybe because I find it all new, since most of the kids I encountered were very active and talkative, and Dodong's a total opposite of them, or he's just been shy since I am a new person to him, and he's still adjusting to me. (Jairine and Dodong are relatives, so don't get confused as to why I only used the word “me” and not “us”.)

When it comes to his physical activity, he's quite active as a Badminton player, he even asked for a shuttlecock when I asked him what he wanted, although at first he's kinda hesitant to tell us but after some time of convincing him that it's okay and it's our Christmas gift for him, he gave in. He also likes playing volleyball. According to him, when he plays sports longer than usual, he easily gets tired.

His favorite activities are doing arts and painting. Well I was able to see his artworks when he dragged me into their house and showcased his artworks to me.

Below are examples of his drawings/artworks:

An art project from his school:

His favorite subjects in school are Arts and Math. He finds English and Filipino subjects difficult to understand. And whenever he's confused or wasn't able to understand a certain topic, he approaches his teacher and asks her the things he does not understand, the same way he always does to his mother.

I can attest that he's good at math; well I've already proved above that he's good at drawing, arts in general. Now, I'm going to show how good he is in terms of his Math skills.

* I can only post a few pictures since there's a limit for uploading pictures *

I was praising him and even encouraged him to make me see his other quizzes and artworks. He was so happy that night by the way, he even shared stories and so on while he was happily displaying his works. He wants to improve himself as an artist just like his cousin (who is currently majoring in Architecture now and is very good at drawing and painting).

Aside from that, he also has a social life. He has two friends, one girl and one boy. They are the ones who he plays sports with, and even random plays they've had. Whenever they have conflicts, after some time, they'll say sorry towards each other asking for their forgiveness and after that, they'll play again.

I like how kids are so easy to forgive those who hurt them, well maybe because they still don't know the concept of grudge or magtanim ng sama ng loob, or they don't worry much about it.

After interviewing Dodong, I was kind of emotional but held it in. Children are so simple, in everything. That's the reason why I chose The Little Prince as a title for this blog. As I was able to interview Dodong, it feels like I was able to reconnect with my old self, remembering those moments where I think, do, act simply. The Little Prince critiques the adult world’s obsession with materialism and the loss of imagination and offers a reminder that the most important things are often invisible, felt only with the heart. Dodong's purity and innocence makes him, him and that made him unique. The way he only thinks about how he wants to improve his art styles, and art only. Also using his imagination to create more art. That made me happy as an adult. I hope he stays the same, and won't get bothered by the trivial pursuits of life, and maybe someday I'll get to see him being successful in his chosen field.

"All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it."

- The Little Prince (1942)

Love,

Irish & Jairine <3

photo ops; 🤌🏻✨

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wiypt-writes · 2 years ago

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Consciousness Of Guilt Ch 24

Summary: It’s the countdown to Christmas, and you and Andy have a very excited almost 3 year old…and a pain in the ass Elf to contend with.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer. I do not consent to my work being translated or posted elsewhere. If you see this fiction on any site other than Tumblr it has been taken without permission.

W/C: 7.3k

A/N: Thanks to my beta @spectre-posts

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 23

According to Ferris Bueller, “life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Well, you certainly could relate.

Within what felt like such a short amount of time; Lucy was growing, life was rapidly changing and there was no slowing down. You had gone back to work and while that was an adjustment in and of itself, you enjoyed the opportunity to work from home as well when necessary. Lucy was attending a daycare in the lobby of the building, and it gave you (and Andy) a chance to check in on her. Although you weren’t sure it were a good idea in the beginning as you knew Andy was down there “watching” or “checking in” far more than you were. Ron even would joke that if one couldn’t find Andrew Barber in his office then his calls should be

“forwarded to the nursery in the lobby.”

And speaking of Ron, the end of the year was fast approaching and so was his retirement. The founding partner had given the news to yourself, Andy and the board with their spouses present at a dinner party they’d hosted at autumn’s start. He had declared that he would be stepping down at the end of February the following year. That meant many changes were coming including adding much more to Andy’s desk. Because, with Ron’s announcement, came another vote to seat Andy as the second head of the firm.

Simply put, it was as if you and Andy had merely blinked, and here you were. Your baby girl now almost three, and another year about to draw to a close.

You woke and stretched, leaning over to give Andy a quick peck on the cheek good morning. He stirred, and smiled, his arm moving to slip round your back.

“Morning, Angel.”

“Good morning, BB.” You smiled as your lips brushed his. “Happy first of December.”

Andy snorted, “whoopee…” You playfully slapped his chest and he laughed. “Seriously, what’s to get excited about? You’ve already put the tree up…it went up the day before Thanksgiving.”

You knew he was only half-serious. Whilst he’d grumbled it was far too early, when he’d seen how excited his little girl at the boxes of decorations, he’d got stuck right in to help.

“Listen, Mr Grinch…have you forgotten what’s waiting downstairs?”

At that, Andy grinned. This was the first year that Lucy had really appreciated and understood what Christmas was and her excitement was infectious.

“I can’t wait for her to see it.”

The two of you laid quietly talking for a few minutes, until Andy’s alarm obnoxiously signaled it was time to get up.

"Hit snooze," you suggested.

Andy sighed, “I’d love to, but I have a lot of prep today.”

You groaned, "alright. I'm working from home today. I'll keep Looby with me."

Andy groaned as he stretched. “I know it’s only a DUI and possession but whilst he’s pleading guilty for the DUI, on the rest he claims he’s been stitched up…”

You rolled to your side, facing his side of the bed, "well, I know it's been tough so far, but I’m sure it's going to work out."

“It feels like an awful amount of prep for something so minor, but there’s huge implications here that go behind the verdict.”

“Like…”

“Bent cops.” Andy wrinkled his nose.

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Andy shrugged a little, before his arm which lay under your neck threaded into the hair at the back of your head. “Busy couple of weeks before the holidays.”

You nodded and leaned up for a kiss. "You best get up, or I'll kidnap you."

“Isn’t kidnapping when it’s done against your…” he trailed off, the joke dying on his lips. “Fahk, Angel…that was…”

Your eyes grew soft, "Hey....," you cupped his face, "Andy no, it's okay. I'm okay."

He took a deep breath and accepted the soft kiss you gave him. “I know, I still don’t like the…the jokes, you know?”

Before you could reply, a little voice called out echoing down the landing and through the monitor on the bedside table.

“Daddy! Mommy! Isss awakes!”

“Well, that's a new record," you snorted. "That’s your fault for reminding her last night she’s got her advent calendars to open.”

"Me? I did no such thing, that was Penny sending that fahkin' ugly bright box of which, no doubt, is full of shit prizes and candy."

“Oh hush!” You giggled, “you know full well she’s more excited about that glittery card dinosaur one you managed to find!”

Andy chuckled as you moved so he could climb out of bed, his bare torso flexing a little as he headed out of the room, Grant following. He opened the baby gate into Lucy’s room to find her sat up, the early light from the sunrise illuminating her slightly.

“Good morning Looby-Saurus.” He beamed.

“Hi Daddy Wex!” She giggled as Grant hopped up onto her toddler bed and stuck his nose into her face. “Gwant!”

“Stupid dog…” Andy grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Daddy nos calls Gwant!” Lucy admonished as she stared up at him and Andy couldn’t help but snort at the expression she wore, so like you.

“Okay, okay.” He grinned and swooped her up in his big arms. She still sometimes looked so small in them to him, his precious girl. "Do you want to come snuggle Mommy so I can get ready for work?"

“Yup yup yups!” She hugged him round his neck and then she gasped. “Oh…iss a-vent day?”

He groans a little, "yep, it's advent day."

She squealed. “We goes?”

"Yes, but after I get dressed for work."

“Otay…”

"I'll be quick, promise." He kissed her cheek as he walked them into his room.

“Mommy!” Looby grinned as she saw you sat up in the large bed.

"Good morning, Looby Loo!"

“Iss assvent!”

"I know! Are you excited?"

In the corner of your eye, you saw Andy trying not to laugh at the unfortunate mispronunciation of the word.

“I so esscited!”

Andy headed into the bathroom, and you smiled at Lucy.

"I tell you what. Let’s go grab your robe and your slippers, make sure you’re warm when we go down, yeah?”

"Does it snows wast night?"

“I think so.” You grinned, “shall we see?”

"Outs dare?" She pointed to the French doors on your balcony.

"Yep, go see!"

She hopped down from your bed and ran to the long curtains, pulling them apart as she pushed her face through. “Mommy! More snows!”

"Oh my! Well, we'll just have to go out in it, won't we?" You laugh. “Make a snowman!”

“Wike Olaf!” Looby grinned as you climbed out of bed and grabbed Andy’s sweater from the vanity chair.

"Yes!" You pulled it on over your sleep cami.

That was when Andy threw open the bathroom door and rushed out in only a towel. "Sorry, two minutes." he quickly said and grabbed his underwear and undershirt, running back in.

“Daddy siwwy.”

"Yes, he is!" You carried her back to her room to get her robe and slippers. Andy met you two in the hall, his tie hanging around his neck and his jacket fisted in his hand. The smell of his shower gel, aftershave and the linger of toothpaste was a particularly heady mix that morning.

"Okay, let's get your advent!” He swooped up Lucy as she grinned and clapped.

You followed and smiled at Andy as you opened the door to the huge open plan loving area of your old farmhouse. Andy set your daughter down and she immediately squealed.

“Oh. Wow!” You gasped as Andy took a dramatic inhale, “what on Earth…”

"Wassat, Wassat?!"

“It looks…it looks like an elf!” Andy grinned as Lucy ran to the little elf doll on the sofa. The Elf was sat holding a balloon.

"Das 'L' for Lucy!" She bounced on the spot, pointing at the balloon.

“You’re right.” Andy nodded. “That’s what it says. Hi, Lucy!”

Jumping up and down with pure glee, she took the sign and handed it to you.

You gasped, "Bunny, I think it's... It's a note, look!

“Issat?” Her eyes widened.

"Hang on, I need to make sure it's real...." Andy took the note from you and squinted as he inspected the teeny writing on the page. “Miss Lucy Jo Barber, Sheephill Cottage!” He read with an astonished tone. “It is real!”

"Reads it, Dadd-wex, peas!"

“Okay…” Andy took a deep breath and opened the letter. “Hi Lucy! I’m your special elf! I’m new, from the North Pole, and Santa sent me to your home especially so we can play together!” He paused as Lucy gasped.

You could help the grin that matched your daughter's as Andy read. This was definitely going to be the best part of the season.

“Like all new elves, I don’t have a name. So, the first thing we can do together is pick one. Anything you want, as long as it isn’t a rude word like…” Andy gasped and playfully looked at Lucy, “like fart or butt…”

She giggled and covered her grin with her small hands.

“You can play with me all day, but at night you have to leave me under the tree so that I can report back to Santa through the special Red bauble…”

"I can do it, I can do it!"

“I can’t wait to play and have lots of adventures. With love, from your Elf!” Andy finished. “Well, how awesome is that?!”

"I so esscited! I has to name hims! Don't goes!"

Andy chuckled, “I have to get to work soon, Bunny but…okay, a couple of minutes.”

"Think really hard, Lucy... A name is special." You encouraged.

“Erms….Pickles!”

Andy snorted, “what?"

“Pickles!”

Andy was about to ask why, but his phone rang. It was Ron. "Angel... I..."

“Yeah, okay…go. See you tonight.”

"I love you," he bent and kissed you. Then he kneeled down, "I gotta go, Bunny, come gimme a kiss then you and 'Pickles' can play."

“Bye daddy!” She ran to him and kissed his bearded cheek. “I wobes you.”

"I love you, too." He stood and kissed you again before rushing out.

"So," you clapped your hands together and smirked, "what are we going to do with Pickles?"

And that was how it started.

You quickly realized the Elf couldn’t be left “under” the tree as Grant took a liking to him, and on the first night, Andy spent a good five minutes trying to retrieve him from your dog’s jaws.

Then, each and every day you had to remind yourself or Andy to move the damn elf, that fast became an annoying and obnoxious chore. But seeing Lucy’s reaction each morning was so worth it. It was in the kitchen hanging off the fridge, it was in the bathroom Lucy used being naughty using the sink as a tub. It scuba dived in Grant’s water bowl, pulled all the cushions off the couch, left a trail of marshmallow footprints all over the kitchen counters….When it was Andy's turn to move it, you'd learned to double check the setup, for the first time he was in charge there was a very precarious pose your husband had put it in. So, you had to fix it. And that was how every turn Andy had went, so you had to scold him each time as you fixed it before Lucy saw.

But one Tuesday evening, a few weeks after his 46th birthday, Andy outdid himself.

You’d arranged Pickles on the coffee table with one of Lucy’s Barbie Dolls, and a few of her dinosaurs around a little table of their own along with a sign that informed everyone that this was a “tea-rex” party. You’d left to go grab a drink from the kitchen and come back to find Pickles’ head was now between Barbie’s legs and Andy was bent over the scene, giggling like a naughty schoolboy.

“Andrew!”

"What?” He spun to face you.

“You absolute child!”

“Hey, Picks has to try Barbie at least once in his life!"

“You are the…” you slapped the back of his head, causing him to yelp, “absolute worst!”

"Oh c'mahn!" He drawled in his Boston baroque as you moved to fix the toy porn scene in front of you. “I mean I'm naht a Barbie man myself, but..." he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck.

“You’re not?”

"Nope...." he kissed your skin. "I like wings."

“Smooth….”

"I have my moments," he snorted.

“Hmmm…” you moved in his arms, turning to face him.

"It's just a little fun, Angel," he smirked and kissed the tip of your nose. "You laughed, something you haven't done for a week."

You sighed. "I know, it's been busy. With both Amber and Eva already gone, and now the nursery closed for the holidays, I've been overloaded. And I'm still not feeling well."

“No?” He frowned. “I thought you said you were yesterday?”

"I just still feel tired and run down," you sighed. "Honestly, it's just the full plate but now that I'm working from home, it'll get easier. Especially with you and Ron buttoning up this case. I didn't want to say much because you're so stressed and putting in the hours."

Andy took a deep breath, “well, we have the closing arguments tomorrow so…that’s it. If no verdict by 5pm, it’s deferred until new year. I’ll be finished tomorrow evening regardless.”

"Good," your hands ran up his cotton tee covered chest and sighed. "You wanna light that fire now? We can turn the lights out and leave the tree on?"

“Mmmm get comfy, huh?” He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. “Any of that red we opened at dinner left?”

"A bit. Maybe a glass each."

“Just enough.” He smiled, “the Christmas order from the Wine club should be arriving tomorrow or the day after. I stuck a few bottles of the cheap stuff in so we can make mulled wine.”

"My favorite," you slipped from his arms and padded back toward the kitchen.

When you came back a small fire was just starting to pick up. Andy tossed on more kindling before, once satisfied it was going to take, he chucked on a log.

You passed off his glass and he took it with a soft smile, but not without kissing you gently in the glow. His free hand rest against the small of your back.

You loved the night times. Andy always made time for Lucy when he came home, playing, bathing, and reading her a story. But once she was tucked in, and it was just the two of you, he relaxed even more.

"I love you," you bumped your nose against his.

“I love you too.” He smiled, his lips brushing yours.

"What now, counselor?"

“Movie? Sit on the rug and talk?

"Rug sounds good to me,” you winked.

You both settled down, you sat between his legs, your back settled in against his chest as he leaned against the oak coffee table. One of his long legs was extended flat along the floor, the other bent at the knee.

The two of you drank your wine and talked, in the easy way you’d always been able to. Andy’s hands would rub up and down your forearms and sometimes his lips would kiss your neck. Your hands would move up and down the top part of his shin or fingers would draw lines and swirls over his thigh.

It was peaceful, intimate, and in the comfortable moments of silence, the crackle of the fire filled the room making it feel even more homely and cozy.

As the flames started to die down, you checked your watch.

"It's late, Andy," you spoke with a softness almost as if any louder you might disturb the silent night. "You don't want to be late in the morning."

“Ten more minutes.” He whispered, his lips kissing the back of your shoulder.

"Alright," you sighed in appreciation.

His lips didn’t move far from your skin. His beard tickled you as it gently rubbed against the crook of your shoulder.

You reached back to curl your hand around his neck. Your fingers ran down the length of his neck.

He hummed in appreciation, as his lips found the hinge of your jaw. You responded the same. But you leaned your body into him more as your fingers scratched at the shorter hairs along the back of his head and a hand pressed further into his thigh.

As he nuzzled into you, one hand moved, splaying across your belly as the other arm wrapped across your chest. Your hum turned into breathy grunt and sigh.

The hand that was splayed on your belly slid further down, fingers softly brushing the inside of your right thigh through your sleep pants. The other softly traced the swell of your breast. A gentle moan left your throat at the feel of his hands on you like that. Your body easily responding to your husband’s touch with a delicate yet elevated sensitivity.

Andy sighed, his lips now at your chin as his fingers danced over your nipple, which was peaked through the soft material of your sleep shirt. “Oh, Angel…so responsive for me…”

You whimpered at his voice and touch, "Mmm, yeah.” You tilted your hips back against him. His lips met yours as you felt the hand on your thigh slipping beneath the waistband of your pants.

You gasped into his mouth, the tickle of his fingers passing your mound was pleasurable. Your own fingers curled into his hair. His mouth hovered over yours, his eyes twinkling as he slowly circled your clit with his fingers, the other hand now slipping into the neckline of your top.

The twist of your body against his chest gave you a better angle to feel his hot breath against your lips. Your hips tilted forward just a pinch to practically fall into that finger circling you. You jutted your chin just a fraction outward to capture a kiss as his hand now cupped your breast.

He gave a squeeze and his thumb rubbed over your nipple now with the pad of his thumb against your skin. It was slow, delicate, like a strum to a guitar string.

"Mmm," you hummed against his lips.

“Good?” His voice was a grunt as his tipped his hips forward, his hardness pressing into the dip of your back.

"Yeah," you whispered. "S'good...."

“Can I fuck you like this?” he rasped.

Your belly knotted as your chest fluttered, "ah, fuck, yes...."

You didn’t wait, your hands moved, and you pulled off your top and then tipped your head back round to Andy.

“Lose yours.”

His hand came away from your sleep pants, your clit missing his touch, as he took that very hand to single handedly pull that collar of his sleep shirt over his head.

You moved as he did so, slipping your sleep pants down and you heard Andy groan a little behind you.

"Good?" You smirked.

He chuckled as you felt him shuffle, hands on your hips as you knelt up. He eased you back over him, one hand letting go to grip at his dick. As you moved yourself backwards, you felt his head brushing through your folds, and you moaned.

“That feels good…”

Andy sighed pleasurably as you rocked over his cock. His head tickled your clit and a delightful whimper sounded from your lips at the feel. His hands remained at your hips, not pushing, or pulling, simply resting as you dictated your speed.

It all felt so good. His hands on you, your hands bracing yourself at his thighs as you rubbed along his shaft. You felt a stir inside and changed tactic, wanting him inside you.

You stopped and shifted backwards, Andy immediately obliging. His tip slipped in with ease and you slowly sank down on him. The remnants of the burning embers and fire, now near gone, still warmed you and the Christmas lights around you casted a romantic glow across your bodies.

You leaned back against his chest as he tipped his hips upwards, both of you sighing as he filled you.

After a minute, your hips rolled as you snaked that hand and arm back and up around his neck and nape. His lips nipped at your shoulder, hands sliding up your rib cage until they cupped both of your breasts.

"Yes," you hissed. You splayed your fingers over the back of his head as the heel of your hand cradled the base.

His hips were slow, thrusts deep as his palms squeezed your mounds before his fingers pinched your nipples.

"Fuck, Andy," you squirmed.

His hands continued, teasing you as his rolls were measured. His lips brushed up your neck.

Your skin felt like it was on fire and not from the dying flames, but from Andy's touch and his deep thrusts. He filled your still tight insides with a stretch you'd grown accustomed to, desired most days and begged for at times. The way his soft hands were gentle always at first but demanding when begged for.

“Feel so good, Angel.”

"Yeah, it does," you replied with a whine. "Jesus, Andy, it's real good."

His fingers continued their massaging and plucking, your nipples so sensitive as his rolls and thrusts picked up pace ever so slightly.

Your delicate walls began to flutter against his shaft as it rubbed along your ridges. The hooded edge of his tip kissed your spongy surface as the slow drag of his thrusts slipped through you.

He kept that same, steady pace to the end, and you came with a soft whimper as his teeth nipped your shoulder.

Your weight settled with a welcome slouch against his lap as you became pliant to his touch. Your orgasm had your whole body tingling and every sense was intensified. You could feel the fibers of his hair on his thighs, the grooves of his teeth on your skin. Even the prints of his fingers and thumbs felt like imprints on your nipple and breasts.

“Oh, baby…” he cooed, “there we go…”

"Fuck, Andy...."

Andy could feel you, squeezing him as you trembled in his lap.

"Jesus, Angel...."

You could only whimper as your body kept going. It was as if a shorter, weaker, second orgasm was trickling through. An aftershock of sorts.

You were that caught up, you didn’t feel Andy as he came, but you heard his little grunt in your ear.

The room was silent bar your heavy breaths mixing with his. There was a peppering sound of soft kisses, but it were only for your ears.

"That was good, Angel."

“Mmmm.”

He lightly chuckled with a rasp to his voice but made no attempt to move you, and the two of you remained there for a bit longer.

****

Neither of you wanted to get up the next morning, but Andy knew the end was in sight. He was up, showered, downstairs and waiting with coffee before you and Lucy appeared.

He could hear the two of you in her room, giggling in excitement at what Pickles could have been up to overnight. He smirked with a flick of his brows knowing damn well what the little shit had been up to.

Soon after, the door opened and Looby ran into the room and squealed, “looks!”

"Oh my, he's had a party with your other friends!" You grinned and your eyes moved over to Andy.

He smirked at you over his mug. “Yeah, said friends look really happy. Bet Barbie had a great time last night.

You blushed, "Angel did."

He said nothing, merely arched a brow and you knew he was smug as fuck.

Breakfast was the usual affair and at 8:15 you kissed him goodbye so he could make the half hour drive to Denver.

As he went through security, he placed his case in the conveyor belt and walked through the scanner. As Andy replaced his belt and watch, stuck his phone back in his pocket, the guy at the X-ray machine peered carefully at the screen before he chuckled to himself and looked Andy.

“Merry Christmas, Mr Barber.”

"Merry Christmas, Jack," he smirked. "Have a good one."

He grabbed his case and jacket and headed through. A few moments later he entered the courtroom as spectators did but slipped through the bailiff to sit at the Defense table. He placed his case down on the desk in front of his seat, an empty one to the left where his client would sit and turned to Ron as he clicked the clasps on his case open.

“Good evening?” Ron smiled.

"Great evening,"

“Dare I ask?” Ron snorted.

Andy just smugly grinned, "Nope."

Ron chuckled as Andy opened the case and stopped dead.

“What the…” his boisterous laugh filled the room as those around took a glare at him.

“I don’t…how the hell…” he chuckled as he turned his open case to Ron. There, on top of his files, led Pickles.

Now, it was Ron's turn to join in on the laughter.

“Is that the famous Pickles?” He reached for the elf.

"That it is," Andy shook his head.

Ron grinned as he sat the Elf doll on the edge of the desk.

“Shit, Ron! You can’t…” but Andy’s attention was jerked away as the Bailiff called for order and their client was led in.

"All rise...." the spiel went on and as the judge sat down then told everyone to do the same, his eyes shot up at the defendants side.

"Barber, what the hell is that?"

Ron snorted as clearly Andy was head seat and was taking the ticking off from His Honor.

“Erm…I…”

“A new witness.” Ron quipped.

“No, I…it’s… Ron!” Andy hissed.

“It’s a little unbecoming to try and enter a new witness at such a late stage,” the Judge’s mouth twitched a little. Various titters rang round the court room.

“I’m sorry, your Honor. My daughter…she must have snuck it into my bag…” Andy grabbed the doll and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can only apologize.”

"I'm a grandfather to twelve Barber, I get it. They’ve all had these damned Elf On A Shelf things each year for ages. But the merry little shits are annoying as hell, so put...."

"Pickles, Your Honor..." Ron interjected to more laughter.

"Pickles," the judge snorted, "back in the case until recess, huh?"

“Yes, sir…it’ll stay in there, believe me.” Andy tossed the doll into his case and closed it with a snap. “More than my life is worth to lose him.”

He glared at Ron as he sat back down, the soon retiring senior partner grinning like a fool back at him.

Thankfully, the rest of the proceedings went according to plan. The summing up was completed and then before lunch the jury were sent to consider their verdict. To Andy’s surprise, they were called by the clerk less than three hours later as the verdict was in.

Andy bit his lip and exhaled with relief as the verdict came back not guilty. The Judge nodded, and then following the sentencing for the DUI and a final consultation with their client, Andy and Ron left the courthouse. As they were leaving, the DA pulled them both to one side, informing them that she would be sanctioning an investigation into the allegations of corruption.

After Andy promised the firm would help in any way they could, they headed out into the cold air, buoyed by both the result and the fact it was now officially over in time for Christmas.

“Well,” Ron turned to Andy as he paused at his Mercedes, “not a bad one to bow out on.” He smirked as he opened his car door. “Maybe you should thank the elf…”

"You know, you're still my boss, or I'd say fahk you," he snorted.

“Only for another 2 months.” Ron grinned, “hit me with your worst!”

"Man, just 2 months left. I can’t believe you’re bowing out, you bastard!" Andy chuckled.

"Oh yes, yes I am," Ron touted. "I've put in my time. I'm seventy, and I’m done."

Andy had the door open to his Audi coupe, "I'm heading back for a few hours before going home.”

“What? Why? Fuck that! It’s back past your house to go to the office and you’ve done enough. We tied everything up, so go home. That’s an order, and as I’m still your boss…”

“Fahking fahk you!” Andy snorted, as Ron shot him a look. “Okay, okay, I’ll go home!”

“Good! I’ll check.”

“Don’t I know it. Hey, are you and Giselle coming by for dinner still?"

“Absolutely, be with you at seven-ish. Unfortunately, I’m driving as the boys, wives, and grandkids land early tomorrow morning so…”

“Yeah, you mentioned. Don’t worry, Y/N’s made mulled cider, not wine. Coupla beers if you fancy. Lucy will no doubt have us up at the crack of dawn, so we won’t have much either. Save it for tomorrow.”

“Speaking of my little pal, will she still be up tonight when we arrive or…”

“Well, she goes down around seven but she’s not in nursery, sure we can let her stay up a little longer. You never know, she may lay in tomorrow, I can pray for a Christmas miracle.” Andy winked.

"Good," Ron winked, "I'd hate to miss spoiling my God daughter on Christmas Eve Eve!" Ron chuckled and slipped into his Mercedes. He rolled down the window and shouted over the loud dual muffler. "See you at seven!"

With a smirk, Andy climbed into his car and pulled out of the lot, dialing his secretary’s number just to check in. By the time he was home, he was satisfied all his loose ends for the years were tied up and he was absolutely ready for the ten or so days break he would get.

The moment he stepped inside the house, he could smell the spirit of Christmas. Clearly, you'd been busy. And the motley crew of decorated cookies who seen better days proved so as they sat on the counter.

“Daddy!”

"Looby-saurus!" Andy kneeled down and dropped his case and jacket to his feet as he caught her little body.

“We medz cookies!” She grinned as she wrapped her little arms round his neck.

"I can see that! Did you decorate them?" He picked one up and offered her a bite before taking one himself.

“Yups!” She nodded. “Mama says Uncle Won and Aunti Zel will wike dem!”

"Oh, I bet they will, they're gonna be here later," he kissed her cheek. Then he turned to his right and kissed you tenderly.

"How'd it go?" Your hands pressed into his chest.

"Standard sentence for the DUI: fine and costs plus community service and a driving ban, no custodial or probation. But we expected that as it’s his first offense. Main thing is, not guilty for the possession," he said softly with a smile. “Which means we just ripped open an IA on the department.”

"Well, congrats BB, it all worked out. And judging by the early arrival, you're home for good now?"

“Yup.” He grinned and jiggled Lucy a little. “I’m done now until the 6th of January!”

You grinned, "Did you hear that, Lucy? Daddy-Rex is home for a lot of days!"

“Yay!” She cheered.

“So,” Andy set Lucy on the kitchen counter, “what else did my girls do today?”

"We cleaned up, made our cookies, had a Snowball fight!" You smiled.

"I gots Gwant. Den, he pushed me."

“He pushed you?” Andy gasped, as he reached to unwrap his scarf, “well that’s just put him right on Santas naughty list!”

"Das what I says!" Lucy opened her hands up like she was saying 'I don't know.'

"Lucy, hop down and go wash so you can help me, okay?" You offered.

Andy gently dropped her to her feet, and she ran off with excitement towards the bathroom by the laundry room.

He took off his coat, dropped it over the back of one of the tall stools which sat under the breakfast counter and loosened his tie.

He snorted as he lifted his case to set it in the same stool, remembering what was inside, "the fahkin' elf."

"What was that?" You looked up at him.

Andy moved his case to the counter and looked at you, “open it…”

You dried your hands from your work and walked around to the stool. You clicked the locks on the top and opened the case. Then, you sputtered a loud snort that turned into a chuckle. "How...I swear I did NOT do that!"

“Well, if it wasn’t you, it was either that spotty little Asshole or Lucy.”

Knowing full well it wasn't Grant, you simply smirked and titled your chin as your eyes humorously looked at your husband.

“Ron sat the damned thing on the desk, in court. Then told the judge it was a new witness.”

Your jaw dropped as you tried to cover it, "oh no...." you started chuckling again.

“Thankfully, the judge saw the funny side.” Andy snorted.

"I'd hope! It's Callahan, right? Guy's got a crap load of kids and grandkids." You remembered the judge from Andy having had a trial previously with him.

“That’s the one.” He nodded, then spun round as Lucy came back into the room.

"Looby…." you smirked, "where's Pickles? He was here this morning..."

“Erms…” instantly she adopted the same guilty expression Andy wore when he’d been caught out and Andy grinned.

“Pickles has been in court!”

"I knows!" She giggled and put her chubby little hands over her grinning face. "He goes!"

“Did you put him in my briefcase?” Andy gasped, “I thought he climbed in!”

"I halps!"

“Well, he got to see the judge. Uncle Ron sat him on the table.”

“He did?” She squealed, “was you in tempt?”

Andy chuckled, "almost!"

You blinked, not quite sure how your nearly three year old knew what that was, let alone how to use it in the right context. But then again, she was bright as a button. Her vocabulary and self-awareness already streets ahead of what you’d expect of a child her age.

"Alright, Smart Bunny," you shook your head with a smirk, "I need your help with the snacks while Daddy goes and changes for Ron and Giselle."

“Otay…oh, I puts Pickles back first?”

"Yes," Andy thrust him in her direction, "He needs to think about what to tell Santa tonight about his day!"

As she took the elf, Grant sidled over, his tail wagging.

“No, Gwant!” Looby sternly told him. “Daddy, you ups so I reaches?”

“Absolutely.” Andy picked her up and crossed the dining area to the living space where the larger tree sat.

She reached and set the elf right on what Lucy had deemed the 'homes' branch next to a red bauble. Grant sat looking up, licking his lips.

"NO GWANT! Bad dog!" Lucy shook her finger at him. "No eats!"

“He can’t reach, baby.” Andy kissed her head, “don’t worry.”

You snorted as you heard, "I wouldn't trust that. He got all the way to the back of the counter this morning."

“He what?” Andy wheeled round.

"Yep," you popped your 'p'. "This," you indicated to the chicken and mushroom pasta bake waiting to go into the oven, "is the second one. Lucy and I had to go back to the market after nap." You glared at the dalmatian.

“Fur coat…” Andy grumbled.

"Today, I'd agree." You snorted.

Andy headed up with a shake of his head to change and decompress from the day before Ron and Giselle were to arrive. It felt damn good to keep the laptop closed for at least a week and ignore important emails for just as long. He hung his tie and shirt, ready for the cleaners as well as his suit pieces. He slipped into dark jeans and a thin sweater, keeping his undershirt from the day on.

You heard his boots thud along the stairs as he came back down to join you and Lucy.

The three of you prepared the rest of the snacks and the accompanying sides to the pasta bake. Lucy then had her dinner, and Andy took her upstairs for a bath and to change into her pajamas ready for the evening.

"No bed," she argued as he slipped her snowmen sleep shirt over her head.

“No, not yet. You can stay up and see Uncle Ron first. Maybe open the presents they’re bringing if mama says you can.”

"Oh... Can I seep wif Daddy Wex and Mommy?"

“I tell you what, you can go to sleep in our bed with the tv on and then I’ll move you later on, okay?”

"Otay, Gwant comes?”

“Yeah, Grant can sleep with you.”

She grinned, "Ups, peas, we goes!"

Andy chuckled, “want me to carry you or you wanna ride on my back?”

"Back!"

“Alright, robe and slippers on first.”

"'tay," she slid off her bed, feet first with her belly to the duvet.

She slipped her little feet into her Rudolph slippers that Pickles had bought one morning and then Andy held out her little dinosaur robe.

"Danks, Daddy Wex." Then Lucy gasped, "Daddy!"

"What, Bunny?"

"Oh nos! I forgot!"

Andy crouched down, "hey... Lucy what is it?"

"I fogots my assdent!"

Andy tried not to laugh, “that’s okay, we’ll open it now.”

"Okay..."

“Now…” Andy swiveled round, “hop on…”

He grunted as she did, then stood and tossed her a bit so he could settle her evenly, causing her to giggle. At the same time, he thanked whomever that she was still tiny, or he'd be fucked with his old man back.

“Lessgo Daddy-wex!”

With a roar, Andy jogged out of her room, causing her to shriek and giggle. You heard their laughs and giggles before his feet touched the stairs to come down and just as they hit the first floor, there was a knock on the door. Grant barking to make sure they were all well aware.

"Deys here! Dems here!"

“Well let’s go let them in!” Andy exclaimed back, bouncing to the door.

He opened the inside door to the porch first, Lucy still on his back and then he swung the heavy oak outside one inwards.

"Uncle Won! Auntie Zel!”

“Well, hi!” Ron beamed, as Lucy bounced on Andy’s back.

“Come on in outta the cold!” Andy chuckled, stepping back. He crouched so Lucy could slide off his back.

“Lemme get inside, pipsqueak!” Ron chuckled, “get these bags down so I can give you a hug!”

The greetings were spread between all and once the excitement died down and Lucy showed Giselle everything, she had in her advent for the fifth time, they'd settled in the living room by the fire.

“Bunny, did you open your advent for today now or did you forget again?” Andy asked.

"Aun Zelle halped! Penny gots me dis!" She held up a toy so close to his eye that he needed to lean back to see it.

“Another dinosaur!” Andy grinned.

"Issa di.... Di..."

“Diplodocus…” Andy said, pronouncing it carefully so Lucy could copy.

"Diplodikis"

“That’s it. Hi five!” Andy grinned.

Ron found the mispronunciation hilarious while and Giselle rolled your eyes.

"Alright, Looby Loo, you get to open your gifts from us, and then I heard Pickles say it was bedtime," Ron sighed.

Lucy opened her mouth to argue but a look from Andy stopped her impending protest dead.

“Remember what we agreed upstairs, bunny.” He spoke softly but firmly.

"Yes," she sighs a bit.

“Come on…it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow, we got a big day!”

"What's we do?"

“Well, we got breakfast and the last Advent day, then we’re gonna take Grant for a walk by the creek, build a snowman. Then we’re gonna help Mommy get things ready, before we go to Patti’s for dinner and watch the Carol singers. Then it’s home, and we make sure Pickles is ready to go back to the North Pole with Santa!”

"Santa! I sees him near Patti's," Lucy grinned as she took an outstretched gift from her Godfather. "Fanks!"

She flopped down as she started to unwrap the first present, but then paused halfway through ripping off the first bit of paper

“How’s comes dese presents here?”

“Well, you see, Santa brings some presents, but friends and family, well they buy each other things too.” You smiled, running your hand over her head. “So, Uncle Ron and Auntie Giselle bought these for you. And in a minute, you can give them their gifts from us.”

"Oh...." she drew out.

She continued and squealed as she unwrapped her gifts, which formed a set of new art supplies, complete with a wooden box with her name on to keep them in.

"I wuv dems! Fank you!"

“You’re very welcome, honey.” Giselle caught her hug before she then ran to Ron.

“Merry Christmas, my little squish monster!” Ron hugged her tight.

After exchanging the adult gifts, Looby was ushered round to say goodnight before Andy carried her upstairs.

That gave you the chance to invite Ron and Giselle to the dining area to take their seats so you could eat.

The hour was late by the time things were consumed and cleaned up. Giselle helped you, despite Andy's protests that he and Ron should be doing it. Even Giselle told Andy to piss off as she found it to be the perfect point in time for 'the two of you to have your cigars and scotch'.

She stirred the mulled cider and inhaled the aromatic scent that made one's heart warm and fill with a delightful holiday spirit. "So, what'd you get Andy for Christmas?"

“A long weekend in Vermont, towards the end of January.” you smiled. “Ron helped me, said he’d wangle the diaries. Booked us a cabin. Lucy’s going to my parents.”

"Oh, how lovely! You two deserve a trip like that. A log cabin, big fire, skiing! Ugh, we haven't done that since Ronnie's hip replacement. Old fart seizes up as soon as it hits forty*.”

You chuckled, “you know I’ve never been skiing. Andy has, not for a while.” You smiled, “and, then from Lucy…” you grinned, “I booked them one of the experience days at the museum, you know where they do the special dinosaur days and tours?”

Giselle grinned and opened her mouth to answer you, but you suddenly felt extremely warm and a little bit funny.

"Y/N?"

“I’m fine just…it’s a little warm, that’s all.” You waved Giselle away, “been feeling off for a few days.”

"Well, here, sit," she guided you to one of your bar stools. "I'll finish these." She grabbed you a glass of water.

“Thanks…” you sat down, glancing over to where Andy and Ron were sat. Neither seemed to have noticed.

After a few sips of water, you felt better and were thankfully able to participate in the rest of the night.

But something was niggling in the back of your mind, and you couldn’t quite figure out what.

*****

Christmas Eve morning had you slowly starting the morning. And that was despite Andy's plans of a big busy day.

But no worries, it was a lazy breakfast, more brunch really, and then you set off for a walk. Andy made good on his promise, you built a snowman the three of you before heading home and warming up with hot chocolate and a snack.

Then, you loaded into your jeep and headed back into Boulder. You let Lucy give Patti the small gift you’d bought for her, and in exchange she was very happy with the dinosaur book Patti gave her.

Then, after your burgers and fries you went out onto the square full of little Christmas market stalls, to wait for the Carol service.

Lucy and Andy were busy examining something at one of the stalls when you glanced around, and it suddenly hit you. What that nagging feeling had been.

You moved towards Andy and gently stood on your toes.

“One last thing I need to pick up, won’t be long…”

“Alright…” he leaned down, giving you a quick kiss.

You shot off across the square, slipped into the shop in question, leaving less than five minute late with your purchase stuck in your inside pocket. You needed another quick pit stop, before you returned ten minutes after you had left.

“Looks, Mommy!” Lucy excitedly waved a little wooden tree ornament at you as you reached her and Andy. “Is a daddy wex!”

“Oh, wow!” You beamed. “That’s amazing!”

“We got three!” Andy grinned. “A daddy rex, a mommy rex and a Looby saurus.”

“Hmmm, that’s great.” You beamed, “but…well, you might need to add another.”

"What?" Andy looked as if he hadn't entirely heard you.

You reached into your pocket, dipping your chin into your scarf a little and pulled out the test you’d just done. Thankfully, Lucy was too busy looking at the Carol singers who were now walking into the square with their lanterns to hear Andy’s exclamation.

“Holy fahking shit!”

You grinned. It was all you could do.

His nose was redder than seconds ago his eyes definitely not stinging from the winter air. He had no words, but you could see it on his face.

You'd just given him the third best gift of his life with you.

And pulled his hands from his pockets and quickly grabbed your face. His beard poked then tickled your cheeks as he kissed you, hard.

Lucy giggled, “kissy!” and you spluttered a bit as he pulled away.

“I know….we hadn’t planned another after Lucy, and…we’re gonna be a bit older than we both probably wanna be but…oh, Andy!” You couldn’t help the tears of happiness that pricked your eyes, “another baby!”

He grinned and pulled your face to his again. "I love you, fahk, I fahking love you much, baby."

You spluttered, allowing him to kiss you again before a yell of protest came from Lucy.

You broke apart quickly with a wet laugh from you both. Andy spoke first his voice able to carry over the growing crowd.

"What's the matter?"

“I no sees ” She looked up at you both, pointing to the singers who were now stood ready to start on the small makeshift stage in the middle. Her woolly hat slipped down over her eyes and Andy chuckled. He lifted her up into his arms, righted her hat and gave her cheek a huge kiss.

“Shoulders, peez!”

He grinned and tossed your daughter in her rightful place. Once she was settled, and her holding on, Andy looked down at you again.

His free hand cupped your jaw while his fingers carted through your hair and around the base of your head. "Here we go again," he grinned and bent as far as he could without losing Lucy.

You pressed up on your toes and met him the rest of the way, a final searing kiss to your lips as the opening carol played.

"Angels we have heard on high

Sweetly singing o'er the plains

And the mountains in reply

Echoing their joyous strains...."

"Thanks, Santa," Andy whispered as he pulled away

****

Chapter 25

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #Andy barber smut #defending jacob #defending Jacob fan fic #Chris Evans characters

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razrbladekiss · 3 years ago

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Three - Presage

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of Wendy’s drug use. Nothing explicitly *bad* goes on here, just some of the usual SOA shit is hinted at. :) Tig <3

MASTERLIST

Ninety degrees was horrendous. Ninety-six degrees saw Isla spiraling toward a fully-fledged mental breakdown, desperate to climb out of her own fucking flesh and melt into the parking lot outside of St. Thomas.

Seeing the Sons sporting leathers, hoodies, and long-sleeved shirts underneath their cuts made her skin crawl, too.

She'd thrown on the flounciest summer dress she owned, thin and wispy, and she was still roasting to death underneath the Californian sunshine.

It felt like they were living in the fucking ass-crack of hell.

Though, with their current state and Charming's infestation of ATF and other federal agents, hell wasn't too far off the mark.

"Thanks for the ride." Isla expressed her gratitude as she slid off of the back of Tig's bike, pulling the helmet away from loose blonde curls.

"No problem, baby--you good to get home, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm meeting Gem here, so she'll take me back to T M in time to pick my car up," she confirmed, readjusting herself.

She couldn't risk Tig Trager getting an eyeful of her asscheeks today. Not again, anyway.

"Perfect. See 'ya later, beautiful." Isla leaned in for him to peck her cheek--which was habitual for the pair--and she did the same.

Her smile was wide. She was beaming. "Bye, Tiggy. I love you."

"Love you too, kid." He reciprocated the smile, squeezing her hand as she broke away and padded toward the steps, brushing her fingers through wind-tousled strands.

Things were, for the first time in about a week, finally looking up. Resuming a sense of normality, perhaps.

She and Trager had been on precarious terms since that day, and had been avoiding one another altogether. Which, for them, was strange.

Days went by without even so much as a word being uttered between the pair, no backhanded comments, or even sideways glances.

Usually, they'd be bickering like kids, arguing nonsensically until Clay or Chibs broke them apart--but it was all just their little bit of fun. Because they bounced off of one another.

They lauded the relationship they shared because, really, it was one of the strongest.

He'd been her official favorite since the very day that they met--he and Bobby were the two she liked to talk to whenever she felt that she couldn't confide in her father.

But the last few days were so fucking hard. She was struggling with the weight of all that she did, coupled with the stress of not being able to discern Tig's current feelings on her.

And after she'd lashed out, had bitched at him for no fucking reason, she was pretty certain that Tiggy didn't want to know anymore.

That was thrown out of the window this morning, however, when Isla's clutch blew out, and she needed a ride from the garage to the hospital to see Abel.

Of course Tig was there for her. He always would be.

"Hey." Isla spoke softly as she held the little blue bear close to her chest. "I stopped by the gift shop on the way up here--Jax said he's already got bears and balloons comin' outta his ass, so I thought what's one more?"

Gemma couldn't help but smile, gesturing for the blonde to sit with her opposite Abel's isolette.

"He'll love you for it," she joked, though she knew that she was appreciative. For her company more so the stuffed animal.

With their commitment to the club and the current battle against the ATF, Jax and Clay weren't as hands on as what they usually would've liked.

Of course, Teller was at that baby's side whenever he got the chance to break away from SAMCRO, but he wanted more. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that his little boy was being provided with the best possible care at St. Thomas.

And he was. He absolutely was. But he needed to know--for his own peace of mind, he needed to see that. So, his mother was there every waking fucking moment, giving him that love he could only get from his Grandma.

"How's he doing?" Her query was braided around a whisper, worried she'd disturb Abel's peaceful rest. "Jax said he should be coming home soon."

Gemma simply affirmed with a nod, gazing affectionately at her grandson.

It was heartwarming to see so much love, so much adoration from a woman who had a reputation for being a fucking cunt--thus proving that Gemma's main priority was her family, and their health and happiness.

That, somehow, made Isla love her even more than what she already did.

It also made her a tad jealous of Jax and the fact that he still had his mother in his life.

"He's gettin' stronger and stronger everyday. Tara said he'll be set to leave Friday--"

"Tara?" Her brow lifted as she put the bear amongst the pile of gifts. "I thought she was a doctor, I didn't think she had anything to do with the babies?"

Gemma's smile faltered a little. "She's a pediatric surgeon. Been takin' care of Abel since the start."

"Oh."

Now, she would've known that if she'd taken the time to visit her best friend's kid since he was born. But she hadn't--she hadn't even considered taking a trip over to St. Thomas to check in on Jax's baby.

And it was for the simple fucking reason that she couldn't bear the thought of facing Wendy and having to be nice to her. Especially after what she fucking did to that poor little boy.

She subsequently landed her own flesh and blood in the hospital after shooting heroin while pregnant? And she wanted Jax to pardon her for it?

Isla wasn't a hateful person, she didn't care about what people did in their spare time because that was their time.

But the moment an innocent person was harmed due to the carelessness of others...That was when she felt a scathing animosity.

"She's good with him." Gemma stated bitterly, snapping Isla from her ire-fueled daydream. "Kills me to say it, but she's a gem. A real fuckin' star."

"I'd bet. She was always good with kids."

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, the older woman crossed over her arms. "Who's kids?"

Finally, Isla took a seat beside her on top of plush blue leather.

"A few of the girls we were in high school with had kids pretty young and Tara was usually super keen to hold them, or just hang out at their places whenever we weren't at school. Or it could've just been the wannabe doctor in her, now that I think about it."

"She's pretty maternal," Isla hummed in agreement, "but I'm glad she and Jax never had kids when you were teenagers--I don't know how that would've looked for him."

Suddenly, she was staring at Gemma like she had two fucking heads.

"I don't trust her." She elaborated, drawing another confused glance from Isla. "She and Jax would have been a fucking disaster had she stayed--"

"And things worked out so much better with Wendy?" A little more vehemently than intended, the blonde asked.

Now Gemma was the one shooting dirty looks.

"Look, Gem, I'm just saying. Jax and Tara are history now, yeah? You don't have to trust her. Just thank her for what she's doing for your grandson because when he's outta this place, you won't need to worry about her."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Skeptically, she asked. Arms folded over. "You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another."

That line gutted her.

It hurt her--it was agonizing--but she wasn't sure why she was so beaten by it. Because it was the truth, wasn't it?

Tara and Jax were, at one point, the strongest couple she'd ever known, and when it fizzled out he was fucking broken. She hadn't seen him so downtrodden since JT had passed, and he was suddenly left without the strength and guidance of his father.

She was his everything. Isla was a fool to think he'd be able to see her back in Charming and not feel something for her. His first love.

"I think we should throw Abel a homecoming party on Friday--if he's coming home then, that is." Gemma shifted the topic of conversation, getting to her feet.

"Absolutely. I'll help."

"Yeah?" She asked a little doubtingly, reaching over to pick Abel up. "You don't have to--I know you work Friday's."

Isla waved her off, standing beside the brunette. "I do, but it's no bother. If everyone's gonna be there, then I wanna show my face too. Offer a helping hand of some sort."

"Alright, perfect," Gem stated softly, holding the baby close to her chest. "When we get back to T M, we can figure out what we need to get."

"Sounds like a plan--" Isla was cut off by a soft knocking at the door, irritating her a little bit because she'd only just gotten there and hated the idea of having to leave already.

She made a mental note to stop by a little earlier tomorrow.

"Hey, sorry to bother you--" Tara stopped herself when she needed her estranged friend, almost dropping the clipboard she was holding against her chest.

Isla Telford was the last fucking person she expected to see today.

"Hey," with a fake smile, she greeted.

The tension was palpable.

Gemma felt the irritation washing over her favorite of the duo, urging her to turn her attention back toward her grandson before she said anything to worsen the situation.

Because she would've.

"Uh, I've gotta run a few tests on Abel before we determine that he'll be ready to leave this week, if that's alright?" Tara gestured to Gemma, ignoring Isla's presence.

That stung a little bit.

"Yeah. It's fine." The response was blunt. Terse, to a point.

"Great."

Isla realized that she wasn't wanted in that space any longer. She grabbed her purse, turning toward the door. "I'll meet you outside."

"Yeah, alright," Gemma put the baby back into his crib, smiling at Isla. "You want my keys?"

"I'll wait on the steps--I'm gonna smoke--"

"Before you go," Tara cut in. She cleared her throat, trying to smile--but she just couldn't.

Telford sensed where it was going, however. There wasn't a reason for her to stop Isla in her tracks, in front of Gemma no less.

She wondered how long it'd take for it to be brought up.

"Thanks."

Gratitude genuinely swept over the doctor, letting Isla know she was truthful in her acknowledgment--or, was it more like a form of praise? Because Jax definitely told Tara what they both did for her, and she was astounded that the woman would even float the idea of helping out.

It was a strange notion. To know what she did--when she looked and acted like that--was fucking weird. And nobody would've believed her if she said that Isla helped to dispose of a dead body, which did make her laugh a little.

She knew how to hold, load, and fire a pistol, but she wasn't capable of committing the unspeakable the same way that Jax, or Chibs, or Clay were capable of it.

But she was slowly earning her title as 'Daughter of Sgt. At Arms/ Man of Mayhem.' And she wasn't sure how she liked that.

"You're welcome," she spoke plainly. "Hope everything is alright now, Tara."

"It is."

"Good." Her retort was immediate, laced with that same genuineness the other woman expressed. "You free this coming friday?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"If all goes to plan--and Abel is good to come home--we're gonna throw a little party for the boy," Gemma confirmed with a nod. "You wanna swing by? Everyone'll be there--Donna, Ope, their kids, Wendy, the rest of the Sons. You should come. It'll be nice for everyone to see 'ya again."

Wendy's name falling from those pink lips, in such a positive light, maimed Isla. She and Jax were starting to get along a little bit better now, but she was still wary of that woman.

"Yeah. It'll be great," the older woman added.

Tara felt cornered. She knew that she wasn't really wanted, and she also knew that was a way for Isla and her menopausal best friend--old enough to be her fuckin' mom--to keep the doctor as close as possible without explicitly saying that they wanted to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. I'll stop by."

"Brilliant." Gemma conceded, slipping past the pair. "Address hasn't changed, sweetheart."

It was passive aggressive, sickly-sweet, and it was Gemma to a fucking T. The woman was loathing every second she had to spend with Tara Knowles and she wasn't even trying to hide it.

But it didn't have to be for very long, she thought.

"What was that all about? Why'd she thank you?" Gem queried as they got outside, passing the lighter to her left.

"For not breaking her fucking neck when I had the chance to all those years ago, probably."

Isla sparked her cigarette, pacing alongside her as they headed toward the car.

"That's bullshit."

"How so?"

"Just is." She could read Chibs's little girl like a fucking book. "But I won't press--if it's something between you and Tara, I don't care to hear. Just lemme know if it goes south. I can put a bullet in her for you, baby."

Isla would've laughed had she not known that Gemma was deadly fucking serious about blowing Tara's brains out.

But it was a relief. For her to give it up just like that--uncharacteristically so--was a kind of relief that she never thought she'd feel from Gemma Teller.

She was used to being protected. Used to being viewed as the one that needed to be shielded from the horrors that shrouded the Sons. But Isla wasn't innocent, nor was she fucking stupid.

The security was appreciated, however. Because, lately, things just didn't seem to be going too great for her.

And, if she'd learned anything, they'd only worsen from here on out.

"You don't have to go full mama bear mode, Gem. I'm a big girl."

She laughed, turning to face Isla.

"I know," smoke blew from her nose, "but you've gotta protect the ones you wanna keep close, y'know? The ones you love."

The tip of Gemma's boot pulverized her cigarette into the sidewalk as she fished for the car keys, avoiding eye contact all together.

"I haven't been able to protect everyone I've wanted to from the shit that goes on in this town, honey, but I'm really tryin'. And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you or my boy."

#tig trager #tig trager fic #tig trager fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fandom #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller

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arans-princess · 4 years ago

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I wanna play

Sakusa-nii x reader x atsumu

Degradation, rough sex, spitting, cnc, this gets dark yall, light somno. Poly relationship

- Omi-nii doesn’t like most people except you, you are the only exception, he loves his little sister to death. He would do anything to keep you happy.

- He doesn’t like bodily fluids unless they come from you, everything you do is so adorable to him, you’re his Imōto

- The way you whine as he eats out your cute little cunny, music to his ears

- The way you claw at his back as his thick cock splits you open, is so sweet. He knows his dick it too big for you, but the way you tell him you’re a big girl and you can take it, any thing for nii-chan; makes his cock throb.

- The way you babble and drool as he fucks you silly, your eyes rolling back as he bounces you on his dick, one large calloused hand around your throat using it as leverage. The other holds you at your hip with a bruising grip as he plows into you.

- The bathroom sink is frigid on your feverish body, but it does nothing to quell the heat inside you. He applies just enough pressure to your neck so that you're looking at yourself in the mirror.

- He gladly pounds your third orgasm out of you, his hips unrelenting as the post game adrenaline has flooded his veins. Gosh, when they said he was a part of the generation of monsters they weren’t kidding.

“Omi-nii, ugh, fuck I-I Im gonna cum!” you babble through strangled moans, your pulse pounding in your head as his thick fingers press against the sides of your throat, cutting off blood supply to your brain. Drunk off the pleasure, you can feel your head swimming, drowning in the sensation of his fat cock brushing against your sweet spot, the cold counter digging into you adds to your pleasure.

“Yes, you can y/n-chan, yes you can. C’mon, be my good girl, cum on for me, cum for your nii-chan.” he bends down, leaning into your neck and bites. Leaving a trail of marks from your collarbone to your ear. “Just a little more for me, baby” the hand on your hip travels to your clit and rubs tight circles on your overused bud. His hips still as he increases the pace of his fingers. “You're clamping down so hard, baby girl, you gonna squirt for me?” he looks up at your blissed out expression, your legs are trembling, arms desperately clinging to the arm attached to your throat.

“Omi, please I wanna taste you.” You mewl out clawing at his forearm, nails digging deep into his veiny flesh. Somehow, he takes you to heights unknown as his cock throbs in your wet heat. Now that he stopped thrusting you can feel your cunt pulsing, your slick is dripping down your ass onto the sink below making your ass slippery; you would have slid off, if not for you big brother supporting you, such a good brother. The hand on your throat migrates to your chin gripping it harshly, prying open your mouth. His face draws closer to yours as he gathers a glob of saliva and plops on to your tongue. You hold it in there waiting for him to give you permission to swallow, both of your fluids mingling in your mouth. Tongue twitching in anticipation, your eyes meet his in a silent plea.

“Swallow princess. Be a good girl and squirt for me, c’mon” he coos while looking at your fucked out face; eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent scream. With his encouragement you let go of the knot building in your belly, and all at once fluid gushes out of your cunt as he continues to rub your clit, working you through this mind numbing orgasm like a good big brother. Not even the groaning coming from one of the stalls can snap you out of this bliss.

“Holy fuck Omi-kun, I didn’t know she could squirt!” Both of your heads snap in the direction of the voice in search of the owner. Omi is shocked to find the owner, it’s Tsumu, his teammate. Oh fuck. “Poor little y/n-chan too fucked out on your brother's cock to care? Look at you. You look so fucking pathetic. You like when your big brother uses you like a toy? Don’t you?” Tsumu teases while inspecting your used body, he’s right. You’re covered in drool, cum is seeping out of your puffy cunt. You’re a mess. But you’re Nii-chan’s mess, right? “So this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to play with your toy. You can watch or leave, I don’t really care. Unless you want me to tell the press you fuck your baby sister like a whore? You can kiss your career goodbye. Yeah it would suck to have you off the team but; rumor has it, this Kyōtani Kentarō kid is being scouted for the team next year. I would love to set for him. Hate to see you go though.” That damn smirk never leaves his face, and he doesn't take his eyes off you, not even for a second. You can feel nii-chan stiffen between your legs as the realization hits him. He has to comply if he wants to keep your lives from derailing.

“Fine,” Omi spits, “can I finish here first? I'm still hard.” his question is harsh, you can practically see steam coming from his ears, his face that was already red from the exertion deepened. His chest is still heaving, but you can't tell if it's from anger or not. It most likely is. This anger is only intensified with blond’s response. “ Yeah no. I want my payment now.” the blonde chuckles, looking very pleased with himself. Omi’s grip on your body tightens immensely, painfully even, yet somehow through this exchange you have not come to terms with what's happening quite yet. It's not until Omi withdraws from your heat that you understand the gravity of the situation. Your relationship has been found out, after years of being so careful, this is what happens. All because you couldn't keep your greedy little hands to yourself. You should feel more responsible but you can't bring yourself to. You're too far gone, trapped in your own mind, locked away in subspace.

Next thing you know Tsumu plunges into your heat roughly and sets a brutal pace from the start. His cock isn’t the same and nii-chans, it's not as long. It doesn’t hammer into your cervix, but it's twice as thick, and the stretch burns. It’s not a good burn, it hurts. You dont like Tsumu fucking you. You're not his toy, you belong to nii-chan, not his teammate. You look over at Omi and see him standing in the corner. His cock is still hard and throbbing, the tip is a bright red, and he looks so ready to burst. ”Nii-chan, make him stop, I-I don't like him inside me. H-hurts, it hurts.” you croak out, attempting to reach out for him. The sight breaks his heart in two, he wants nothing more than to fling that shit-head off of his precious baby sister, but he can’t. He takes a half step towards you then stops himself, knowing if he interrupts his career is over, and with that so is your life of comfort. He simply can't have that. Omi swallows his pride and tries to tune out your wails of anguish as Tsumu defiles you, but your cries only get louder and louder as he continues.

“Such a slut, aren't you y/n-chan? This little hole just weeps for anyone doesn't it?” Tsumu questions while leaning in your face, breath fanning over you. The rank smell of coffee assaults your nostrils, making you try and turn away, but he roughly snatches your face back to look at him. His fingers are roughly digging into your cheeks and the pressure forces your jaw open. Your eyes widen in fear as you realize what is about to happen. He hocks a fat glob of spit inside your pliant mouth, the look in his eyes tells you to swallow or risk harsher treatment. So with fat tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, you do as he asks. The pounding never ceases as he beams brightly down at you. His smile, one you once found endearing, now makes your stomach turn, and you close your eyes and hope for him to finnish quickly.

“Aht aht aht, c’mon princess, look at me. Look at me and be grateful that someone is stuffing your stupid little cunt at all.” he chuckles as he thrusts harder into your womb, the stretch doesn’t burn like it did before, as your body finally adjusted to his massive girth. Reluctantly you open your eyes and look at his figure looming above you. He’s drenched in sweat and his face is flushed with exertion. He looks almost appealing like this, with his eyebrows furrowed, eyes blown wide in lust and some other emotion, hate? No, it doesn't bite the same. Its- its love.

Love? He loves you? Oh yeah that's right , when Omi joined the team and brought you around to meet the team, he made it a point to keep Tsumu far away from you. One time Tsumu had managed to snag you away from the group, and while you don't remember much about that night, you do know that Omi was really mad about it. Omi said he was flirting but you didn't even realize it. The whole time you only had eyes for your Nii-chan. That must be why he was lurking in the bathroom. Now that you’re thinking, Atsumu was always around when you two would run off, and you always felt another set of eyes watching you… oh yeah, that’s right… You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a pressure on your clit. The rough pads of his fingers circle your clit, you can feel the calluses on your sensitive nub throwing you over the edge into yet another orgasm. You claw at his back, unconsciously pulling him into you. The way your pussy clamps down on his length makes him gasp, professing his love in your ear as he shoots his load into you. But they dont say he is a part of the generation of monsters for nothing, he doesn't stop his relentless pace, pushing all of his cum out of you. Your vision starts to get blurry, between the tears and the haze of overstimulation taking over. You can hear Omi get angry somewhere in the back of your head, but it sounds far away, like he’s yelling underwater.

You feel your body tense up for yet another orgasm and then your vision cuts out. When you come to, Atsumu is still fucking you, but the pleasure is gone. It’s too much, and when you register this you start fighting back, pushing his face off your neck, shoving his shoulders back to try and dislodge him. Then you hear him chuckle darkly.

“Don't worry y/n-chan, I'll be done shortly, I was able to cum a few more times when you went to sleep on me. Did you know you cum even when you pass out?” he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. You look over to the side and see your big brother sitting in the corner. You look in his eyes and see barely contained rage. The fire in them looks like it could melt a diamond. Tsumu lifts your shirt to take a nipple in his mouth as he cums, sheathing himself in your heat completely, filling you up beyond what you thought was possible.

Your legs start to give out and Omi notices this, he rushes to your side to hold you up-right. “ATSUMU, I told you to be more careful with her! We can't break our princess. Well at least not somewhere so public. Come here baby girl, Nii-chan will take care of you.”

“I’m sorry princess, I got a little carried away. Here, let's get you home. We can cuddle and watch some movies. And up you go!” Tsumu looks at you sheepishly as he apologises, then he lifts you up and pulls his hoodie over your head. He carries you out of the bathroom, uncaring for the strange looks you three get. Your face is buried in his neck and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Omi glares at anyone who even thinks about asking about your identity.

Your relationship might be a little unorthodox, but it’s yours and everyone is happy with it. More importantly you and Omi have realized what happens when Tsumu feels left out.

#kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi smut #kiyoomi x reader smut #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader smut #tsumu x reader #tsumu x reader smut #tw.cnc #Kayla in the dark #Aran's bby writes #tw: incest

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Dangerous Love (Pt. 05 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (04)

Next part (06)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

You just finished the book. Four days must be a world record. So you put it down on the nightstand, going to the window. Your heart starts beating fast when you see Bruce down there. He told you he'd have a busy day today, so Alfred will be bringing the meals. Bruce looks good, suit and tie. A small group of people is with him, with cameras and microphones. Another interview.

Dreams Are Better Than Reality

He suddenly looks up, straight at you. The smile that comes to your lips can't be controlled. And... There's a small smile on his lips too. Hesitantly, you wave at him, placing your hand on the glass. He nods, slightly. But his attention is claimed by a woman. She comes walking, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. She's beautiful, blonde hair and a dark red dress.

There's a knot on your stomach, and you quickly step away, closing the curtains. A man like Bruce is never alone. He can have anyone he wants, and many women want him, you're sure. It's stupid to feel this way. Bruce is a free man and you... You're a criminal.

Deciding not to think about it, you take the book, reading some parts again. Hours later, after dinner, when you're curled up in bed, you take the drawing you made of Bruce. It's hard to see the details in the darkness, but you already memorized his features. But you force yourself to put it away, back inside the book. Closing your eyes, you try to get a little bit of sleep.

• Bruce's POV •

The reporters follow me, and I tell them to choose a place for the interview. Today had been a hectic day, and it's far from over yet. Guiding them through the gardens, I look down at my feet. Did she eat something already? Did Alfred remind her that I won't be able to visit today?

“By the pool seems like a good place.”

“Maybe over there.”

Nodding, I don't pay attention to the chattering. I suddenly realize I'm by her room, and something makes me look up, at her window. My heart starts beating faster when I see her face, looking down at me. (Y/N) seems so different from when she got here, more innocent. Even though the distance, I take in her beautiful eyes, and her lips, breaking into a smile. I'm smiling back before I can notice, admiring her delicate face. She waves, her hand laying on the glass.

“Bruce.” Angela, today's interviewer, gets my attention. Our long term friendship gives her the opening to hug me, and place a kiss on my cheek. But as I loosely return her embrace, I'm aware of (Y/N), looking at me. At Angela and I. What will she think of it?

“Angela. I hope you're having a good day.” I tell her, my eyes quickly going back at the window when she pulls away. But the curtains are closed. She's gone.

The interview is the same as many others. I smile politely, answering the same generic questions. Hours later, I'm at the gala I'm forced to attend. The music, the people, nothing makes me stop thinking about her.

My mind starts wandering, and I picture her here, with me, in a beautiful dress, with her hair rolling down her shoulders. I would have her by my arm all night, show her around this place. Something tells me she would like it.

I can't think of (Y/N) like that. I've been telling myself over and over again, but it doesn't seem to work. I even considered the possibility of stop visiting her for a while again, but I couldn't. I have to see her.

It's past midnight when I'm back home, after leaving the gala earlier than usual. I go straight to my room to shower and check Gotham streets before deciding if I should go out today. But on my way to the cave, I walk by her room. Stopping on my tracks, I look at the closed door. Maybe she's awake.

Careful not to make any noises in case she's asleep, I unlock the door. (Y/N) is lied down, curled up. Slowly, I walk in. Her book is opened beside her, and a piece of paper is coming out from among the pages. Walking closer to the bed, I bend over to take it. The paper is from the book, folded. Opening it, I hold my breath to see a drawing of my face. She's talented. But why is she drawing me?

Putting the paper back where I found it, I walk around the bed so I can see her face. She's not peaceful. It looks like she's in pain. The nightmares. (Y/N) must be having another one. Carefully, I sit on the bed, trying not to move the mattress too much. I need to give her something for a dreamless sleep. She furrows her eyebrows, clenching her fist. She's scared.

I want to tell her I'm here, that whatever is happening in her head, it can't hurt her. What haunts her? And how can I chase it away? Reaching out my hand, I touch her cheek, softly. Her skin feels so delicate under my touch, so fragile. It kills me to imagine everything they did to her. The image of Belle Reve's guards beating her is too much to handle. Rubbing my thumb on her chin, a smile comes to my lips. I was right. (Y/N) is improving, and I meant what I said when I promised I'd never let her go back to that prison.

My eyes wander through her face. The roots of her hair, and all the rest, in a light shade of lilac. Her eyebrows, nose, and lips. When I look at her eyes, I find them open, innocently looking at me. I freeze, unable to move my hand away from her face.

• (Y/N's) POV •

In your sleep, you're drowning in darkness. You're struggling to breathe, but suddenly, you feel something. Whatever it is, it brings you back, slowly returning into consciousness. You feel something on your face, so softly, that it can only be a dream. It must be a good dream this time because when you open your eyes, it's Bruce you see.

Not Joker, or Harley, or some of the guards... Bruce. You're finally having a good dream. His touch feels so delicate, like it's not even there. Smiling, you take his hand.

“Bruce,” you say, pulling him. “Stay with me.”

He doesn't resist, so you keep pulling him until he's lying down, your head on his chest. You know this may turn into a nightmare any time soon, but for now, you can enjoy it. It feels so good... So peaceful. You hold onto him as if you could force the good dream to remain for a while longer.

“If you stay here I won't have nightmares,” you mutter, taking in his scent. You love his cologne, it's familiar. You wish it was real. You're listening to his heartbeat, feeling his chest moving as he breaths. You wish it was real, that this was really him. But it's ok. At least in your dreams, you can have him this close.

“I think I could fall in love with you.” It comes out, as you close your eyes again, bracing yourself for whatever may happen next.

“Me too.” His illusion answers and you giggle.

You really wish this could be real.

•••

You're happy. Beyond happy. Maybe, whatever Bruce is doing is actually working. Brushing your hair, you need to tell him about last night. He will be happy, right? To know his project is going well. You hear the door opening and run out of the bathroom, as fast as you can despite the pain, smiling to see Bruce.

“Hi.”

“Good morning, (Y/N). How do you feel?”

“Good.” Taking the cup of juice from the tray he's carrying, you take a sip.

“We need to talk about something.” He sounds serious, and whatever is it, it might just ruin the mood.

“Sure. But I need to tell you something first.” You sit on the bed crossing your legs. “Yesterday, I had a good dream. A really good dream.” Of course, you would never tell him what it was about. How you held on to him, your head on his chest... That he can never know. “It started bad but... It changed and then it was good. I can't even remember the last time I actually had a nice dream.”

Bruce seems confused, thinking. You watch as the puts the tray on the nightstand, as usual. He doesn't seem so serious anymore, just... Different. “That's very good to know.”

“What is it that you wanna talk about?”

“Nothing. Let's begin with your therapy session, as you like to call. Eat.”

Weird to say the least. Shrugging your shoulders, you eat the sandwich before sitting on the armchair before him.

“Alfred told me you went to a party yesterday. How was it?” You take a blanket with you, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Boring, as usual. But the place was beautiful, I think you would like it. The Hall had high walls, with a huge crystal chandelier and its light reflected through the place as if starts had fallen to Earth.”

The image fills your heart and you smile. It sounds amazing, but... The people there would make you nervous, you're sure. “Did you dance?” You ask him, and the memory of that woman comes back to your mind. How she hugged and kissed him. “With that friend.”

“I didn't dance at all. I had a lot in my head. By the way, I'll be hosting a gala next Saturday. So Alfred will be the one to bring you dinner.”

“Alright... So... Batman does know how to dance. That's impressive.” Smirking, you tease him.

“You must be a great dancer too, to speak like that.” A smile crosses his face.

“Not really. Someone like me doesn't get the chance to go to parties like that... All we have are the night clubs. And I never enjoyed night clubs.” Every passing day, you take less pleasure in remembering your life. Before coming here, before Belle Reve. The adrenaline of some moments still get to you sometimes, and you find yourself missing it. But sometimes... You feel embarrassed to tell Bruce those things. You're starting to see that what you used to do wasn't right. But then again, how were you supposed to have anything in life? You're supposed to be graduated from college, and maybe be in a good job. But the truth is that you don't have anything but the money you stole. Being a villain is the only thing you know how to do.

“You're different from the others. It gets more clear every day.”

“Then you must be proud of yourself for choosing me.”

“No, I'm proud of you. When I first got in touch with the direction of Belle Reve and exposed what I wanted to do and who I wanted to try it on, they told me I'd fail.” Bruce's stare is intense, like fire. Not the type that burns, but the type that keeps people warm... Or maybe you're just cold today. “That you fight and run, constantly, never allowing any human being but those you command to approach. Never would open up, because they think there's nothing in you.”

“Maybe they're right.” Looking down, you pull your legs up, hugging your knees. “When nobody believes in you, you stop believing too. So that's what I did. They treated me like an animal, so I became an animal.”

“I believe in you.”

Your eyes meet his again, and you can't control the smile that comes to your lips. “I did give you a hard time, didn't I? In the beginning.”

“You definitely did. But I'm glad I didn't give up on you. It would be a huge mistake.”

Nervously, you run a hand through your hair. It's hard to admit, even to yourself, that you're glad too. “Well, Bruce Wayne. What is it we'll talk about today?”

“Harley.” He simply says.

“My dear sister. Is she still out there?”

“Yes, but I'm closing in. How's your relationship with her?”

You wanna tell him about the dream... The last thing you want now is to talk about Harley. What the hell is happening to you? Why did you dream of Bruce in that way in the first place? Was it because you got jealous of that woman? A beautiful, normal, mentally healthy woman Bruce could fall for? Wait, were you jealous? Is that what jealousy feels like? Like you want to punch that woman in the face until she's bleeding mess? No, you shouldn't do that. How do normal people deal with jealousy?

It doesn't really matter because you can't feel this way towards Bruce. It's like emotional suicide. Focus on Harley, focus on the therapy. “Harley cares about me. In her own way. She just cares more about herself. We...” Closing your eyes, you can't shake the image off my head.

Bruce's fingers caressing your cheek, so delicately. Your head on his chest, his arms holding you. It felt like... Home. How can someone feel like home? It's illogical.

“(Y/N)?” Bruce's voice gets your attention and you open your eyes again. “What are you thinking about?”

“The dream, I... It was good to have a nice dream, that's all.” His expression softens as if he's remembering something too. Maybe he remembered a good dream he had. “Harley and I were close when she started taking me out with her. As I learned things for my own, we eventually parted ways. It didn't help that I was in constant war with her beloved Joker.”

“Don't you have anyone who's a friend? Someone you would trust?”

“Boomy is like my best friend, I guess.”

“Boomy?”

“Captain Boomerang. We're rarely in touch, but whenever we bump into each other, I know he'll have my back.” You smile to remember him. He's a nice guy. At least to you. “Deadshot too. He's the one you look for when you need some actual advice.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Yeah, a little...” Why is he asking that? “It-It doesn't mean I want to go back–”

“You're not going back to Belle Reve,” Bruce reassures you, reaching out his hand, which you're quick to take. “Never doubt that.”

His touch is warm, and it burns like pure electricity. You don't know why he doesn't let go, his fingers caressing the back on your hand. “Thank you for... For not believing them. For... Everything. Everything you did for me, I... I never thought anyone would be this kind to me.”

“You deserve it. You deserve more than being treated like...”

“It's ok. I get it.” Smiling, your eyes fall on your hands, still together.

You have to be careful not to misread the signs. Careful not to confuse gentleness with something else... Bruce would never look at you differently. He needs a woman like the one you saw. Elegant, beautiful... Normal. You're too much of a trouble, and you always will be.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #imagine batman #batman imagine #ben affleck batman #batman x reader #batman x you

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destinyc1020 · 4 years ago

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You know I been thinking if anti think there just friends then why are they making such a big deal that they hung out together like people will always speculate especially fans like if there just friends why are they crying they preach friends can hang out and once it confirmed they hung out they keep saying there were with other people around them like they don’t want them to be friends and draw unnecessary attention I keep saying this anti blow things up for no reason actors get ship all the time and they brush it off let Tom and z deal with it they never ask fans to do there almost 25

THIS☝🏾

I've been saying for the longest that Antis are the main ones blowing things out of proportion MOST of the time. Most Tomdaya fans are NOT tagging Tom and Z or family members and friends in "Tomdaya tea" or screenshots. Antis are doing that.

Granted, I'll admit that SOME Tomdaya 1.0 fans tried to "OUT" Tom and Z in the past by tagging them, and inquiring about their "hanging out", and I've NEVER felt that doing that was right. 🥴 It was crossing the line imo. I think some fans really wanted them to be outed and tried to unfortunately force that, and that wasn't right. And while I would have loved to have seen them go public, I think MOST Tomdaya fans these days have chilled out, and don't care if they go "public" or not.

I'm not sure about other fans, but at least for me, I know that personally now days, I'm a MUCH more chill shipper. If TZ are indeed seriously dating each other again, I don't care if they EVER "come out" these days lol (especially given their recent experiences with "going public" with other ppl lol 👀). I don't even care if antis believe that they are a thing or not. Like, I honestly DON'T CARE anymore lol. 🤣😅

Go ahead and believe whatever you want. 🤷🏾‍♀️

All I care about is that Tom & Z are both HAPPY (which, they appear to be), and my biggest joy is that they're on GOOD terms with each other again...whether friendship-wise, or romantically. It honestly doesn't matter anymore. Imo we already "won" when they spent Thanksgiving together again. 🥰

And yea, I agree with you.... if Antis really believed that they were "just friends", they wouldn't be breaking their backs lurking on Tomdaya blogs or sipping the tea as SOON as we get it lol 😏. If they REALLY believed that Tom and Z were "just friends", they would simply just ignore our ship.... plain and simple. And they wouldn't talk badly about it either, because why would you hate two ppl who are "just friends"? Even if they're shipped together? 🤷🏾‍♀️ I don't see anyone hating Jake Gyllenhaal, or the Gyllenholland ship. 🥴

It's so funny too how "Tomdaya fans" have been blamed for EVERYTHING...... from the trio NOT taking fan pictures together, to the covid-19 pandemic 🙄. OK... I'm exaggerating.... But you get my point. Has it ever occurred to anyone that even Tom and Jacob haven't taken a shot together with each other either? Is that due to Tomdaya fans also? 🥴

In case some haven't noticed, most of the cast members are being VERY secretive about this 3rd movie. Some are posting stuff, and then QUICKLY deleting it... etc. This has been happening since the beginning! Even Jamie had posted his announcement of involvement in the movie, then deleted quickly. Barely any of the high school cast has posted anything on set. Like c'mon..... this isn't due to "Tomdaya fans". 🙄 Sony and Marvel are being extremely secretive with this film.

But of course, nobody mentions that.

Bottom line....I keep saying that Tom and Z are gonna do what THEY want to do, regardless of what fans say or do. So all of these ppl who are "scared" that shipping is going to somehow "ruin" Tom and Z's friendship with each other can just save their concern trolling for smthg else, because obviously them being shipped together for YEARS hasn't "ruined" their friendship in the least. 😏 Their breakup caused a little tension, but "shipping" never ruined their friendship, and I don't think it ever will. If fans are being super disrespectful and rude to their separate significant others while they're dating other people, then that could cause some issues.... but otherwise, other than that? Naaaa....

And if so, somebody needs to tap Tom on the shoulder and tell him so that he can minimize his comments about Z lol 😆 😂

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tokyoghoose · 5 years ago

Text

nous aimons tous les deux jours

pairing: dabi x reader

playlist: things we never say - bad bad habits*, sincerity is scary - the 1975, love love love - of monsters and men, if i go, im going - gregory alan isakov, i dont know me like you do - low hum, if i get high - nothing but thieves ( alice kristiansen cover ), i dare you - the regrettes, problems - deathbyromy, fool of you - meltt, hell and you - amigo the devil, creature - it looks sad, tongues and teeth - the crane wives, hooked ( addicted you might say ) - eleisha eagle, nothings gonna hurt you baby - cigarettes after sex, a dream of you - far caspian, so alright, cool, whatever - the happy fits, a lovely night - ryan gosling

warnings: mentions of violence, brief mentions of drugs for expression, and suggestive themes

summary: we love every other day

announcements!

this is my first try at a enemies/lover thingy! Originally it was going to be an enemy to lovers but i liked the idea that they're just on opposing sides a little more haha. Lemme know if you'd like to see the other one though!

i know there are a lot of hero x villain fics like this out there 😌 this is my take on it, so please bare with me!

feedback is welcome and appreciated! requests are open!

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

An addiction. That's what it is. Either that or it's some kind of reverse psychology like you want what you can't have—because nothing else makes sense. If you knew him as a regular person, honestly you probably wouldn't have given him a second thought. If he was a hero you worked beside—or god forbid a villain—then you probably wouldn't have cared for a hookup or two, but then you'd get over it. It's not infatuation. It's an addiction. It's toxic and unhealthy and it just feels good even if it shouldn't. But the high; the high is unbeatable.

It continues on forever and more. From the moment his gaze pierces yours it's like snorting a rail of coke or taking a tab and the trip never ends. It's not even the fact you could get caught. You two are so damn obvious; anyone who stumbles into an alleyway at three in the morning would see the two of you doing more than what a fight warrants. It's just him. It's simply Dabi.

Romeo and Juliette's syndrome is probably a better term for it. But hell, it's not like he'd die for you. Right? It's not like you've known each other way longer than some days and nights and you certainly aren't teenagers and he's definitely not somebody who moves onto a girl and decides he's in love at first sight just because his 'rosaline' left him face down ass up. So maybe Romeo and Juliette is just lack of a better term.

But it's so unfair. How the hell are you supposed to escape him when it's like he's around every corner. With every breath you take, it's like he's an inch closer to crushing your chest with his. And maybe you want him to? This isn't very hero-like.

"You're the one always tracking me down, doll."

The pet name sends shivers down your spine and it makes you want him all the more.

Who am I? What has gotten into me?

You blame the pink tint to your cheeks on the brisk wind of the night, but the heat to them is a large contrast. You cross your arms over your chest and scoff, trying to look taller, stronger, and broader. Not in a threatening way, but more a warning.

This time you'll really take him out.

"In case you forgot, it's my job."

You tell yourself that every time.

And every time he gets away.

"I'm not doing anything but taking a walk."

He steps closer, the already short distance between you two getting shorter. The streetlamp that cuts the scene in half flickers, a moth flying away from the light and towards the moon. You count three squares in distance and you resist the urge to step back.

"You're a wanted criminal, Dabi."

He doesn't deny it but scoffs anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets leisurely. It's like he's never bothered. You're just a nat he's waiting to squash. You have to remind yourself of that: You're just prey.

"I think you just miss me." His tone is serious, but he's only teasing—no matter how true it is. You're starting to think that he can read minds—it's actually quite concerning.

You force a laugh past your lips, trying to show you aren't bothered by what he says. It's just a game of cat and mouse, and it's time the roles switch.

"Please. I could throw you in jail right now."

"But you wouldn't do that. Isn't that right, bunny?"

Your guard faulters and it gives him the opening he needs to corner you completely—and quite literally. It's a blink of an eye and he has you against the brick wall. It'd look rather suspicious to anyone passing, or maybe it looks endearing. But it doesn't matter, to begin with when it's a barren street. Even the crickets seem to have fled.

It's like wherever Dabi walks, everything else scatters. If it were the sea, you're sure it'd part red.

Dabi smirks, trapping you between his body and the cool, damp bricks. The mist from earlier rain seeps slowly into your hero suit, sending a violent chill down your spine. His other hand touches your hip, fingers grazing the fabric so faintly that it'd feel non-existent if it weren't for the heat radiating off them. You hitch your breath when his nose nudges your neck, his hot breath causes shivers and his eyes bore into your own with something mischievous.

"I-"

His lips ghost the skin of your neck and you subconsciously pull it taut, tilting your head to the side. You're beginning to hate how your body arches into his and how it reacts to the simplest of touches.

Like a brick to a window, your dissolve shattered easily.

Dabi quirks a brow, challenging you to continue as you sputter about. It's embarrassing. You can hear him say it now, just like so many times before: "Oh? A big hero like you getting flustered by a big bad villain like me? How cute."

Your walkie talkie comes alive with static and a voice cuts in asking for help to take down a gang of criminals a few cities over.

My saving grace.

"I-I have to go." You push him away by the shoulders with sudden confidence, but he doesn't seem to put up much resistance.

God, you want to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

He backs off and turns with an unbothered wave, proving his point that you wouldn't- couldn't touch him, much less win against him in any sort of battle. The untouchable.

"Until next time, right?"

———

It's like a new tide from the moon—how fast your feelings towards him change. He's awful. A criminal, a villain, a murderer. He's the literal icon of everything your against.. or of what you're supposed to be against.

But you understand him. You get his whys and you feel his emotion like you're apart of them. You empathize with him and it makes you so fucking angry at yourself because you know—as a hero—you should never side with a villain like him, no matter how much sense he starts to make.

Blame it on his tone and the smoothness of his words. He's just a swindler.

The next time isn't even a full week later. He technically protects you from some randoms in an alleyway and you catch him in the act of it all, turning to catch whoever was following you, only to be met with cold blue eyes and a pile of ashes in front of you.

Of course, it ultimately ends in the same place it always does; his bed.

His scent and touch linger a little too long after these meetings and you decide once again that this is the last time.

It's a real shame you have to blame it on his body heat and not the undeniable attraction you feel towards him. But you suppose that could count towards it.

His hands are anywhere—everywhere—and they leave a fire in their wake. It's too much and still not enough. All you want is to be closer. Fingers in his hair, pulling him into you until you can't, and then pulling him in more. It's like air, the way you breathe him in. When you finally give into dabi it no longer becomes a crime, but a necessity.

It's overbearing and messy and awful, but you can't help but slip into his embrace and into his warmth.

It's freezing and he's the sun.

Tangled in between cotton sheets, you feel him rub circles into your shoulder and you hear his heartbeat. It's reassuring to know someone like him even has one. Then again, he probably wouldn't have protected you if he didn't have one. How many times has he saved you from harm's way? Honestly, one time is too many.

It almost makes this fling of yours respectable. It almost makes you want to admit you're falling for that smug face and bad attitude.

"We talked about what we'd do if we ran into your league again, you know?"

Why on earth would you bring that up of all things, y/n?

He doesn't need to know anything about your career, much less your plans to take his team down.

"Hmm.. is that so?" Dabi's fingers move up to draw languid circles into your collarbone before shifting slightly to loom over you. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, sending a searing, but welcomed heat to the flesh. You hiss quietly at the sensation, already knowing there's a bruise forming from the activities not too long ago. His lips replace his hand on your neck and he removes his arm from under your head to hold himself up.

Your hand finds his messy hair, fingers delving into the raven locks and tugging gently as he makes his way to the column of your throat and to your ear. He nips at it, nose brushing against your jaw; his hot breath creating goosebumps that rise to your flesh.

"I like knowing you think of me when I'm not around, Angel."

The tone and raspiness of his voice makes you groan, feeling him kiss beneath your jaw. You just know he's smirking at the reactions he elicits from you because you can feel it. He enjoys watching your internal struggle. You can't act like you didn't choose to form whatever this is with him.

You tug his hair to look at him, bringing his face up and he almost looks annoyed that you disrupted his path heading down towards your chest. Your lips ghost over each other's and you lean in for a kiss, only for him to pull away and leave you chasing.

"I also like when you call my name."

Your hand falls from his hair to cup his jaw, practically pulling him forward into a kiss. It's rough to cover up the intimacy and need behind it. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip, thumb pressed into your stomach before his hand goes upward with an ulterior motive.

Pulling away from him before he can initiate anything more, you run your thumb across his lips and the silver bands that adore the lower half of his face. Surprisingly enough, it didn't take long to adjust to the different textures

"And I like how you kiss me."

This almost feels too domestic—not that you mind, but you're positive he knows you're wrapped around his finger, in the palm of his hand. It's impossible to hide it now. Your actions speak louder than the three words on the tip of your tongue, poisoning your mind.

It makes you cringe when you think about it all. How easily he can get into your head and twist your arm. Some nights you catch yourself thinking that maybe you'll be able to convince him to open his eyes a little wider to see your point of view, especially when you've begun to see his. They're horrible—the villains you go against, but he makes them seem so different. You hate how he makes you double think everything.

He playfully nips at your thumb when you push it gently between his lips, teasingly. His hands trail up your arms, pulling them off of him and above your head. You're the one who makes the move to intertwine fingers as he pushes them down harshly on the pillow underneath you. Insatiable. That's what he is. Is it so wrong to keep wanting more?

The sun beginning to rise over the horizon and spilling in through the window doesn't seem to stir him as he makes his descent from your lips.

You already know that by the next morning you'll hate him and that surrounds him. You'll hate yourself for listening to your heart instead of your head simply because it just 'feels so right.' It's a constant cycle between the two of you, and you're sure he feels the same. He doesn't agree with anything you stand by like a hero, but there's something that keeps him close enough.

There's only so much you can expect, even when you deny it over and over.

But god, you have to stop meeting like this.

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