#it's been several years and you've done just fine without one.

[bleu-oscar]

Stuff post!!! About me!

This is so late HOWEVER I will be putting things here anyways for clarification and also because you are my friend

My name is Oscar!!

My pronouns are He / They

I'm obsessed with: TMNT Invader Zim Moomins Hylics Scavengers Reign They're on rotation but my main gig is the turtles

This is mainly an art blog, but also a whatever blog because we stay silly.

I love asks and questions!! Pleaseee send fandom asks abt headcanons, random stuff, things that are cool, or my TMNT AU which has basically nothing going for it! If you send an ask about it you'll force me to make lore which is good for my health

love yuooo bye <3

[madamtrashbat]

When I was ten, we lived on a rice farm with a lot of big buildings in the middle of nowhere. One of the shitty employees of the rice farm decided that, because we had barn cats on the premises, it was perfectly fine to dump a litter of very small kittens into one of the barns.

(I hate her I hate her I hate her)

The kittens were not old enough to be on their own, and despite one of the barn cats looking after them, the majority of them did not make it. All except for one, a little tuxedo that let my dad pick it up.

He brought it into the house, and I decided I was going to nurse it back to health. He was mostly black with a white chin, little white toes, and a white belly. He was so small. I fell in love with him.

I named him Pookie.

He would curl up in the crook of my neck and sleep on my shoulder, where it was warm. He was eating the cat food I mushed up with water, and for three days I thought he might make it.

Then, inexplicably, our dog Fancy, a heeler/shepherd mix, attacked him in the laundry room. She had never done anything like that before and never did anything like that afterwards. I never knew why she did what she did.

I begged my parents to take him to the vet. Please, see if there's anything we can do. I want to save him so badly.

But we had very little money at the time, and my mom couldn't justify an enormous vet bill for a cat we'd had for less than a week that there was surely nothing to do for.

I put him in his basket that night with food and water and many blankets. He had no external injuries besides a nosebleed, so I hoped it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

He didn't see the morning. My dad buried him in the flowerbed without much ado.

I cried for two days into the arms of an unsympathetic mother who didn't understand why I felt so strongly over a cat we'd had for three days, bombarded with criticism from a judgmental sister who severely disliked cats. My dad did his best to try and comfort me, but he's not the best with emotions and didn't know what to say.

It has stuck with me for 20 years. I wonder, from time to time, if I did enough. If I'd kept him in my room instead of the laundry room, if I'd looked up how to care for him, if I'd kept closer watch on him and kept the dog away from him, would he have lived. Would he still have been my cat. Would he have known a life of love and warm fireplaces and full bellies and cuddling into my shoulders until he was too big to fit.

I'll never know.

I told Sawyer about this recently, in a moment of emotional upheaval where I was just spewing out a list of things that had happened in my past that I'd never really gotten over. The conviction of my sadness apparently struck a deep chord with Sawyer, who decided to make me a memorial for Pookie to keep his memory close.

No one else had taken my emotions regarding Pookie seriously. Not until now. And not only did Sawyer take it seriously, the emotional vomit of an adult woman still crying over a cat she had for three days in fifth grade, but Sawyer thought it important enough that it should never be forgotten.

It's nice, sometimes, to know the person you've chosen to go through life with is the best person in the world for you.

[literaila]

jealousy

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you

a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)

last part | next part

*

year five.

“megumi, go get your mom.” 

satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back. 

while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you. 

you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting. 

(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes. 

so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)

satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough. 

“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.” 

satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.” 

“why?” 

“because.” 

“but why?” 

satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth. 

so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you. 

megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.” 

satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).

and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know. 

and if he goes up to you, he'll know. 

“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face. 

“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything. 

(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count). 

he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy. 

if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself. 

satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.” 

megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably. 

“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction. 

if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy. 

“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”

megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?” 

“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more. 

and that's saying something. 

at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again. 

megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.” 

satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.” 

megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time." 

satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"

“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off. 

“go.” 

megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters. 

“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy. 

“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness. 

"no." 

"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."  

“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.” 

megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things. 

"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life. 

and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately. 

your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant. 

and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you. 

satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly. 

and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him. 

the little brat. 

satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair. 

* 

“why are you being so weird today?” 

satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about." 

"you're sticky." 

"i just showered." 

"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual." 

"i can't want to be around you?"

you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it." 

"how am i being weird?" 

"how aren't you?" 

satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin. 

"see what i mean?" 

"it's not my fault that you're comfy." 

"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick." 

satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get. 

and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.  

"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier." 

"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking. 

and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to. 

satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight. 

you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.

still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[leviraaaaaa]

It'd been years after the war.

You no longer had to fight anymore.

The ODM bruises had started to fade as you don't have to tighten the straps anymore, so hard that they dug into your skin. You don't miss the familiar weight of the gas tanks and thunder spears around your waist.

No more recovering only the remains of your dead friend. No more running for your life. No more corpses, no more blood.

You don't miss that life.

You've found your peace, a life with Levi.

You would have never thought it was possible. Not just you and him, but the whole concept of it.

That finally, you can sleep peacefully, without being scared of an urgent call that a wall was broken through. Though you'd still have nightmares but still. And even then it was fine because you had Levi now, to help you get through it. You no longer hard to curl up to yourself and try to calm yourself down, hug a pillow and sob silently so none of your dormmates wake up. You had Levi now.

Or the mornings, you think. The odd sense of peace, the feeling of safety. You can wake up beside him and stay in bed for as long as you want. You don't have to get up and search for your uniform. There's no training to be late to. You just curl yourself around him and watch him sleep, peaceful. And you get to watch when he'd woke up, sleepy sleepy eyes peering through and then arms wrapping around you tighter. He looks so vulnerable then. But you're glad, you think. That he can sleep like that now. That he feels safe enough to, safe with you. His dark circles aren't so visible anymore and he doesn't look as tired as he used to. He still can't get a full rest, but the insomnia isn't that bad.

Life had changed. And for the best. Peace for him and peace for you.

But try as you may, and oh dear God did you try, you can't actually forget. Can't actually leave the life you had spent so many years living behind just like that.

No, the scars never faded.

Souvenirs, you think. Reminders etched into your skin, reminders of who you were and what you've done and all that you pray to forget.

Yours stopped bothering you at one point. It used to. Once. Severely.

You'd stare at the bruises on your thighs for hours or the livid pale slashes along your arms or your stomach. Rough knuckles and calloused fingertips, the constant usage of ODM had left marks there too.

It's more the memories than anything that comes with it.

You used to think, how could anyone possibly look at this marred mess you were and still love you?

Oh but Levi.

He never told you but you knew.

He thinks it's not enough. That he's not enough. That surely you deserve someone with all their fingers, and both their eyes.

And you think it's ridiculous.

But even now, after so many years, you'd sometimes catch a glimpse of him staring at himself into the mirror, fingers grazing his face.

The world had been so cruel to him. And he didn't know how to be kinder to himself.

Unlike you, who cried it out, he never learnt how to actually handle his emotions. So when it's one of those days, he merely shuts himself out. In his own dark little mind. And those days, you leave him alone, because he only curls into himself deeper if you try to get him out. And you learnt to give him space, for him to come out on his own. Though every inch of you wants to help him, but you don't know how.

And it was one of those days, you realized when you walked into the bathroom.

He was staring at the bathroom mirror, arms braced on the counter. So focused he didn't even hear you coming.

"Levi?" You called out gently.

He didn't answer, but his head tilts towards you, eyes shifting to meet yours. He only gives a slight nod.

"You... okay?"

"...yeah." He takes a moment but nods. "Fine."

And it was then you noticed how hard his fingers gripped onto the counter. And you noticed his expression, the look of guilt there. How he wouldn't even look at you properly.

Your heart hurt.

If only he understood.

You didn't say anything but walked towards him. And without a word, you slide on top of the counter, shifting so he was standing between your legs. You locked your legs behind him, pulling him closer. He was startled but he didn't say anything, his eyes downcast.

There was so much pain inside those gray eyes.

"Levi." Your voice gentle, soft. "Look at me."

At that, he only tilted his head, looking further away from you, eyes darting sideways.

"No, look at me." You held his chin, turning his head towards you. He flinched at your touch, but you could see the resistance breaking under your gaze. The walls coming down.

With that, you held up your hair, tilting your head to show him a slash that went up to your neck.

"See this?"

He looked at you, confused. And without a word, you tugged on your t-shirt, taking off the clothing in one pull.

"What are you... doing?" He asked, warily. Eyes on your face. Even after so many years, he still got shy.

"No, eyes here lev." You said firmly. "See this?" You pointed at a scar along your elbow, then towards the bruises that ODM had left on your chest. " And this?"

He only stared at you, expression hard. His jaw tightened.

"Tell me Lev." You sighed.

"Does these repulse you? Creeps you out? Do you think they're ugly? Do they make you love me less? Or not at all?"

Levi looked horrified. He was immediately shaking your head, desperate to deny the words. How could you even think that?

"No." He said hastily, eyes wide. "No, what are you saying? Of course not—"

"So why on earth," You gently cupped his cheek, shushing him down. "Do you believe that yours makes me love you any less?"

Your thumb pressed along the scars on his cheek. They were white now, no longer blood red and livid on his skin as it was back when Hange stiched them up. You swallowed, pressing your forehead to his.

"What made you think," You whispered. "That these makes you worth any less levi? "

He didn't pull away, but he stiffened. His face hardened but there was a look of despair beneath his eyes. "That's not the same—''

"How is it any different?" You cut him out, your voice firm. "You tell me, I'm waiting."

He hesitated, staring at you. And then he looked down.

"...I'm crippled."

"Your point?"

"You deserve someone younger. Someone whole. Someone who's more than me."

"There's no one that's more than you levi."

"I'm damaged. "

"We'll fix it. I'll fix you. So, help me fix myself."

"I'll hurt you. I've already hurt you. I don't know how to be better than this. I don't know how to love someone. "

"You're the only person who have never hurt me. You make me feel more worthy than anyone else in this world ever could. And holy shit, if you can't," You whispered. "If you can't, let me. God, I'd love the shit out of you if you'd just let me. So fucking let me in Levi, don't push me away. Don't shut me out. You've done that enough in your lifetime."

And Levi was still. He was made out of stone. So hard, so rough, the edges so sharp. He tries to soften himself for you, but it goes against everything he ever taught himself his whole life and he doesn't know how to do that. He tries, but somehow it never feels enough. Not enough for you. And he wish he could believe that you didn't love him because you do and he could feel it. He can always feel it . Like the way you were looking at him and he felt so, so exposed.

It makes him feel guilty. Someone like you doesn't belong with someone like him. And he wishes, for once in your life, you'd stop looking at him like that so he could convice himself that you don't want him and he could walk away.

And he knows he makes you feel like you're not good enough, because he sees your sad expression when he locks himself out. But it's not you, he wants to tell you. God, you're fucking perfect and it's never you. It's him. He's the fucking problem. The space inside his head was so dark he was scared that just might be enough for you to leave.

But you. The tempt of it.

The warmth of you. You were all softness and gentless and goodness, so so kind to him and it makes him want to hold you tight and never let go again.

But somedays it gets so hard.

He isn't used to this. To show his feelings. To feel so bare in front of someone. Instinct doesn't let him.

He isn't used to feel so loved.

But he thinks he'd try. For you.

Because now that it's you, he doesn't know how to go back to a time there wasn't you.

"Levi?" Your voice pulls him out of his mind. Like you always did. His saving grace, his angel. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling you closer and he can hardly breathe.

"Don't give up on me, Levi." You whispered to his ears. "On you. On us."

@sad-darksoul @anxious-chick @raginginferno267

[magneticflower]

When is it not raining in Ketterdam?

I got rather inspired and wanted to draw Kanej since it had been a while. It snowballed into me also writing a little thing to go along with it. I hope you enjoy both sjsj. The rest of the writing will be under readmore~

 It almost feels like old times, being out on the streets of the Barrel in the wee hours of the morning instead of at the Crow Club to meet her. Almost. Except he wasn't making his way through the Barrel to scout out a target or to discuss intel without the risk of being heard with her, and they weren't teenagers anymore. He was heading towards the docks for a goodbye. It wasn't the first time he had done so in the last five years, and provided her Saints kept watch like she said they did, it wouldn't be the last. 

He made his way down to berth twenty-two and could already see her waiting for him at the railing on the side of her ship, her familiar figure silhouetted by what streams of moonlight could make it through the smoggy sky that encased the Barrel most evenings. He preferred the times when she was silhouetted by the sunsets that only seemed to be visible when she returned, but he couldn't begrudge her for leaving to where she was at her best. He just hated how he felt in the hours leading up to and after her departure. Kaz pulled himself together just fine after, but he had never entirely managed to shake himself of those hours. Maybe one day.

"Punctual as always, Kaz," she said as he made his way to stand in front of her along the railing.

"I know how you like your sleep. I won't keep you long."

"I don't mind losing some sleep, not if it is for you. Saints know I have done it plenty of times before."

"I distinctly remember several instances of you grumbling about that."

Inej rolled her eyes, "Are you trying to keep this brief because you've got somewhere you would rather be, Kaz?"

No, there wasn't a place in the Barrel that he would rather be than right here, right now. Perhaps only his office, but only if she was there with him. "I am trying out being considerate."

"Not what I asked."

Kaz exhaled through his nose, "You know the answer to that, Inej."

Luckily for him, she wasn't keen on being as obstinate as he usually was, so instead of insisting on a real answer, she simply asked, "Then why are you so far?"

He eyed her momentarily, "How could I be closer than I already am while on the dock?"

Inej's eyes looked down and his own followed suit. "Are you telling me you want me to climb up those crates?"

She looked back up, "Well, I may or may not have had my crew leave those right there for that very reason. Come to whatever conclusion that gives you."

"It was raining earlier. They're wet."

"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"

"Right now."

"Kaz." She gives him a familiar look that tells him she is done with the back and forth. He either does it or doesn't. Of course he does it.

"If I fall on my ass climbing these..." he muttered as he made his way up the boxes to fulfill her request to come closer.

Inej laughed, "If you do perhaps you'll gain greater appreciation for what I used to do for you. At the very least you will leave me with a great memory to reflect on during the less than favorable nights when I'm gone."

Kaz was too busy making his way up to give a retort. It wasn't as if these were particularly difficult, they were just a few measly crates, but his leg never liked this sort of weather and it was proving to stand by that.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" She said once he fully made it up, no unceremonious fall to be had.

"It wasn't particularly good either. We're not teenagers anymore," he countered, shifting his weight to better accommodate his leg.

Inej rested her arms on the railing so that she could lean closer to him, a grin on her face. She still had to look down at him even though he stood on the crates now. Regardless, they were closer, just like she wanted. He had wanted it too.

"You're only twenty two, Kaz, you're hardly ancient. Besides, you are the one that declines to simply come on the ship when we say our goodbyes. I know you said it is because it might wake the others, but one day you will have to oblige me, since you are giving being considerate a chance." He knew the last sentence wasn't just a request to come aboard for goodbyes. One day she wanted him to come with her. Maybe one day he would.

"It would be louder. I am not the Wraith."

"No, I suppose you are not. You're just the crow that keeps coming by because she didn't have the good sense not to feed him," she retorts, leaning forward a little more.

"I don't recall you giving me any information recently, Wraith."

"I suppose not," she said as she moved her hands down to place them on either side of his face to prompt him to lean up as she leaned closer to him as well, "Give me a minute to think of something," she finished as she closed the gap between their lips. It was soft and slow. perhaps because the two knew that this was where the goodbye started.

Almost as if Ketterdam couldn't handle the silence of their moment, Inej began to hear the pattering of the beginning of the rainy morning ahead of her. She pulled back, though only enough to stop the kiss, but not enough to let the rain hit his face. Not enough to ruin this.

"Kaz, it's raining."

"When is it not raining in Ketterdam?"

[gretavanfleetposts]

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart - Part Three of Make Her Happy

Author's Note: The long-awaited part three! I'm a dually incredibly embarrassed that this took almost an entire year to finish. The time really got away from me LOL So I'm very sorry for that but I hope you all enjoy (and fingers crossed it was worth at least some of that wait)

Content Warnings: lots of swearing, bit of drinking

Word Count: 6k

Part One - Make Her Happy

Part Two - Give Me Shelter

One of the last things Jake had said to you before he'd left was that you should talk to Josh. And that was exactly what you hadn't done.

In fact, you’d let two weeks slip by like sand through your fingers without poking or prodding the topic even once. You’d clung to your avoidance like battle armor and if you were honest with yourself, you feared losing Jake just as much as you feared losing Josh.

So you and Josh hadn’t spoken and nothing had changed, nothing other than the fact that it felt Jake had been keeping his distance. Or maybe you were just more sensitive to his absence now that it felt necessary.

Damn him for being a good brother. For being better than me.

He was better than you, it seemed. Because he had put you to bed two weeks ago and left under the impression you were going to do the right thing and instead, you'd avoided your problems and had once again come running to Jake to have him make you feel better.

No, not to make me feel better. Just to play a stupid game. That's all.

He must have heard the honk of your car locking because you had barely made it to the front door before he was suddenly standing there in your way, a look on his face that somehow tangled caution and amusement into one jumbled mess expressed as a half-quirked smile and eyebrows that dipped low in the middle of his forehead. It was an expression that quite matched how you felt, butterflies and guilt and all.

“I take it you two didn't talk.”

Is it that obvious?

“What a way to greet a lady,” you said with a sudden scowl as you pushed past him through the doorway and led yourself to his kitchen.

To say you weren’t quite ready to broach that topic would have been an understatement.

“Why do you seem so chipper?” he asked from behind you as he followed your path through his home.

“I can't be happy to see you?” you threw back at him as you dropped your tote bag off your shoulder and onto the pristine marble of his kitchen island with a familiar muffled clang of a glass bottle shrouded by thin canvas to dull the promise it rang out into the air as it was set down. A little something for the soul.

“I guess I’ve admittedly grown a little bit more used to being greeted with tears. But this is a nice change.”

He gave you a sweet smile but paired with the way his eyes seem to wilt at the outer corners, you could see the sadness it held. It reminded you of the guilt you carried around with you constantly lately, only with a new object of affection. How selfish of you to think that this hadn’t taken any toll on him at all.

Your eyes turned soft. “I'm sorry. I am. You've been my sunshine these past several months. I hope you know that.”

Even as you said it, you knew it couldn’t begin to articulate what it was you really felt for him. But it was enough just to see the rose of a deep blush tinge his cheeks red and turn his smile suddenly bashful.

“Happy to provide,” was all he said in that typical, raspy, almost sleepy voice of his.

It was hard not to chuckle at the things he found too intimate to take in stride. It was fine for him to call you what he had in bed but heaven forbid you call him your sunshine…

“Don't think I didn't notice you dodging my original question though,” he added, breaking your concentration.

Oh yeah. My problems. How lovely of him to remind me.

You quirked up an accusing eyebrow. “Like how you dodged my compliment just now?”

“Ever so expertly,” he answered, this time with an unabashed smile that spread his lips wide across his face.

You felt your gaze dart away before you could even stop it, a heavy sigh pillowing in your chest before expelling into the air like a pot on the stove blowing off steam to keep from boiling over.

“I need one night of just…not talking about it.” You’d had plenty of nights of that, actually. What was one more? “Or thinking about it, preferably.” And then to really catch his attention and maybe even further drive home your point, you reached into your bag to uncloak the wine.

There was a specific smile he always donned when alcohol was present and when it took hold, you knew you could take it as an agreement to drop it, at least while there was a full bottle to contend with.

He took it from your grasp with only a dutiful nod, turning the dark glass over in his hands to inspect the label despite the fact that he likely knew nothing printed there would catch his eye. You had one sense of taste that trumped all others when it came to using fermented drinks to bandage your wounds: cheap.

“What am I if not a seasoned distraction?” he asked, already digging into a cupboard to procure two large, round glasses.

“That's why I seek you out,” you answered with a smile as you watched his hands work and tried your hardest not to think back to that first time he had served as your distraction.

“Well, hopefully that’s not the only reason.”

It was that comment that caught you and sent your stomach into a twist unbecoming of someone who was very much not single, especially given the way it suddenly brought the memory of your second time to the forefront of your mind, a time when it was hardly a distraction so much as it was a necessity in that moment. 

No, distraction wasn’t the only reason you were there. Comfort either. You’d grown to long for his company in a much deeper way. It wasn’t company in general he was providing you with, it was his and his alone.

And the game, of course. Mostly that.

“What's on the agenda for the night?” Jake asked as if he hadn’t just sent you into a deep spiral of thought that you’d been hoping to avoid that evening.

At least he’d been kind enough to pour you a glass of wine without you asking.

“I brought candyland since you owe me a rematch for what you did last time.”

The memory of your pieces scattered on the floor along with every card in the deck like a colorful patchwork quilt that you'd made him clean up both times he'd done it brought an earnest smile to his face.

“I'll flip the board again if you don't let me get tipsy first.”

You certainly didn't have to wonder if he was serious so with the preservation of your game in mind, you agreed with a nod and a, “Seems fair to me,” as you reached out for your wine. But he was already retreating by the time your fingers reached the air that the temptation in a glass once occupied.

“Come here,” he said with a mischievous look overtaking his face. “Something I want to show you.”

This time it was you left following him through his home, both glass stems tucked snugly between talented fingers like he was beckoning you to chase him if you wanted yours. And you did want yours. That was why, despite the sudden flurry of nerves that his look seemed to conjure in your chest, you did as you were told and followed him.

I swear to God, if he's talking about his dick…

You actually weren't sure what you'd do. Probably not the decent thing.

But to your surprise, he led you to a usually barren room save for the red Persian rug warming the middle and the walls outlined in vintage instruments ready to be plucked off the wall and played. Except today, the center of the room wasn't barren as it had been for months.

The room opened up to greet you with a warm mahogany welcome in the shape of a baby grand piano that instantly made your fingers itch. It wasn't so different from the piano you'd been toying with at the party where you and Josh had met. Of course, you weren't as good a player as he was but you certainly knew your way around.

“Figured we rehearse here enough it was worth the investment,” you heard Jake say from behind you where he now stood watching as you carefully perched yourself onto the little matching mahogany bench.

“My God, she is beautiful,” you breathed as you opened the fallboard to uncover a full set of vintage ebony and ivory that seemed to practically yearn for your touch.

Your fingers danced out a quick melody that warmed your joints as much as it did your demeanor. You hadn't played much lately. Actually, you hadn't really played at all. But there were some things that stuck with you, worked their way into your bones, maybe into your very DNA. And this was one of them.

“Does this mean you're going to learn?” you asked, turning your focus back to him as you swiveled to find his face.

“I'd need a teacher for that and I refuse to let Sam fill that role.”

He gave you a cheeky smile that you read instantly. It was an open invitation for you to take on the role of said teacher, so you stood and, taking your wine glass from his hand finally, made a grand sweeping gesture toward the now unoccupied piano bench.

He took his seat, pretending to throw his imagined coat tails over the bench, earning a giggle that swished the wine in your glass. You hovered not too far behind him as he cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat, making a quite thorough display of his preparation only to put fingers to keys and press out one of the more off-key renditions of twinkle twinkle little star you'd ever heard. And he was met with another giggle that seemed to only encourage his actions.

“Oh that's amazing. You must teach me your ways,” you joked with a smile as you set your glass down on the floor just out of the way.

“Save me, please,” he answered with a hoarse laugh, finally slowing his fingers to a halt but keeping them positioned on the keys.

You approached him slowly, coming up close behind his back to stretch your arms over his shoulders and let your fingers find rest overtop his just as delicately as your chest grazed the wide plane of his back. You could smell his cologne strong on his neck as you guided his fingers to better position them amongst the keys, your breath dusting his cheek with each exhale. And you swore you could almost tell that he was holding in a breath if you paid close enough attention to the movement in his shoulders that seemed to have suddenly stilled.

Somewhere among your skin resting against his and your hair tickling his neck, the world around you seemed to grow still and quiet, fading into a background of white noise and blurred lines. And then you pressed your fingers more firmly into his and a striking chord sliced through the air alongside whatever breath Jake had been holding.

“There, just like that,” you said in a voice far shakier than you had hoped it would turn out to be.

But he was silent, letting you guide his fingers slowly up to a new chord, or outstretching a pinky to hit a further key as yours nudged it, never saying a word. He let you play that way, through him, feeling the notes through the strength and dexterity of his talented fingers that fit so snugly beneath yours and obeyed your every command.

“I knew I was good at something,” he joked in a whisper that barely traveled up above the note lingering beneath your hold until he turned his face dangerously to the side to face yours.

It brought his nose only an inch from yours but what felt even more dangerous were his eyes and the quick flicker they made to your lips, resting parted and practically panting. You didn’t even realize your own breathing had picked up until you suddenly became aware of the heat reaching your palms, heat he could likely feel radiating through his skin still resting beneath yours. And just as quickly as the moment had been conjured, he turned his face back to his hands and yours retreated entirely just before you darted over to your glass of wine to down the contents while he continued to fiddle with keys.

“You're a good student,” you commented as evenly as you could as you took a seat on the bench next to him. A much safer spot than where you had been.

“You’re a good teacher,” he answered with a quick flash of a smile in your direction, fingers still tripping over keys and filling the air around you with a disjointed music that you admittedly didn’t mind.

“Well, maybe not as good as you.” It came out rather absently as you had taken to fiddling with a random key yourself, turning your attention to that instead of the familiar pounding of your heart in your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the effect Jake had on you.

When he turned to face you again, you could feel his eyes hot on your cheek. You wanted to be brave and face him but there was something about his knowing gaze that made you feel that much more defeated. You felt like a terrible person, in all actuality. How could you have fallen for your boyfriend’s brother? Was that actually what you had done or were you just using him like a bandaid? Did you even know anymore?

Maybe it’s just the sex I like.

“Is that why you're here?” he asked, his gaze somehow even hotter than before. “You need another lesson?”

God, can he read my mind?

For a brief moment, you found yourself debating it. It didn’t feel like that was what you had come for but you certainly weren’t ignorant to the need that radiated through your body every time he so much as glanced in your direction. But you also weren’t ignorant to just how wrong it really felt. However it had felt that first time, hesitant as you had been, the glances you stole now didn’t feel that way. They didn’t feel harmless. They didn’t feel like something Josh had signed off his approval on.

And for now, the guilt rang strong enough through your body to stop you from doing something worse.

“I'm here to beat you at candyland,” you answered, eyes finally braving his face only to be greeted by a smile that seemed to be growing by the second.

“Well that's just not going to happen.”

—

“That is cheating!” you yelled over the board as you angrily moved Jake's piece back several spaces behind yours.

“It is not, my piece was planning on being there this whole time,” he argued back, grabbing it from your hand to return it to the space he had just placed it on with his hand that wasn't gripping his wine glass like his life depended on it.

You weren't sure if it was the booze or the antics of the game, but his British accent was starting to slip out the more uncivilized he got and you were trying your best to be stern despite the smile it was holding permanently to your lips.

“It doesn't matter what he was planning on, you didn't roll high enough to go that far!”

He gave you a displeased shake of his head as he finally took his piece back, “accidentally” knocking yours over in the process.

“I don't think you're playing this right,” he mumbled before chugging the remaining contents of his third glass of wine.

“I'm sorry you don’t get to just do whatever you want,” you laughed as you wrestled another card out of his hand seeing as it most certainly was not his turn.

“Well that is too bad, isn't it,” he said gruffly although even he was struggling to keep the smile off his face and commit to the bit.

The day had grown so late that darkness had finally come to greet you and this was your third attempt at a civilized game, which you were beginning to think was simply impossible with Jake. He just couldn’t seem to stop cheating.

Let’s not read too much into that.

By the time you had maneuvered all of the cards away from him thanks to that all-too familiar gleam in his eye, he sat back in his seat to let a comfortable silence grow between you both, silent glances exchanged as a buzz settled over you both. But in the silence and the calm grew that familiar heat, a buzz brought on by more than just the alcohol consumed that night. There was something about it, those quiet, gentle moments, that turned the volume of tension about the room up several levels, like you couldn't trust yourselves to be around one another in such a still moment without busying your hands and your bodies with one another. Like you were always just waiting for the next opportunity for it.

That was how it felt: like you were waiting. And suddenly in the haven of golden light in your little secluded pocket of the night, in the quietness of his gaze trying to stay fixed to anything but you, you felt you shouldn't be there.

Why had you come?

Jake cleared his throat and nudged your empty wine glass. “You want more?”

You gave him a light shake of your head and an answer just as soft. “I'm driving.”

He nodded in return and cast his eyes to his hands. He almost looked nervous. Why would he be nervous?

When he met your eyes again, you could tell he was searching your face for something. But what it was he was looking for, you had no idea. And if he found it, you had no idea of that either. But as you gazed back, you found yourself unable to look away, unable to hide your face or your eyes or your feelings from him. Whatever it was you were feeling, you let him see it there on your features like a book written just for him.

It's him I want. That's why I came.

It seemed to hit you all at once and suddenly the need for action seemed just as real.

“I guess I should go.”

Before I do something I shouldn't.

He nodded again, adding an almost silent “okay” that somehow made the task of getting up all the more hard. But somehow, your feet shuffled and your legs moved and your body, which seemed to be of much more sound mind than your actual mind, moved its way to the kitchen sink, wine glass in hand.

“You don't have to do that,” you heard Jake say from behind you.

Close behind you.

“I don't mind,” you answered quietly as you continued to turn the faucet on and rinse the glass.

That was when you felt him at your back, arms emerging from either side and his hands, practically shaking, entwining themselves with yours to steal the glass away from your grip.

“Here,” he whispered, “let me.”

Fuck.

You weren't exactly sure what it was that suddenly surged through you but the moment the glass was set safely on the counter, you turned into his arms to face him, lacing your fingers into his shirt buttoned ever so lazily. And the move brought your mouth mere inches from his, your bodies practically pressed tight to one another.

There was greed on your lips, greed you wanted him to taste.

“Jake, I want you,” you whispered without even an ounce of shame, finally giving in to what you had been fighting all evening.

It was met with his eyes winding tightly shut as a blow of frustrated air pushed from his lungs. “Don't do that to me,” he shook his head. “That's not fair.”

“You're right, it's not fair-”

Your lips were practically on his when he suddenly pulled back several steps, out of your grasp.

“This can't happen,” he said sternly, although whether that was for you or for him you weren't entirely sure.

What you were sure of though was the embarrassment seeping into your very being. And then the guilt. They seemed to freeze you in your place.

God, what am I doing?

What was worse was that you had thought he wanted you too. Had you read it all wrong? Had you read everything wrong? Was he only entertaining you because he could see your desperation so plainly in everything you did? Was it only pity he felt for you?

Josh had no time for you and now Jake didn’t want you either.

You took a few steps away from the sink, aimless, wandering, before your face fell into your hands, to hide it, to soothe yourself, to try and disappear.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated frantically, practically in a panic. “I don't know what I'm doing. It's just…it's not working.”

“You need to tell him that.”

God, the sympathy you now heard in his voice might have made you feel even worse.

“He knows that.”

“Babe-”

“I plan to,” you burst suddenly, hands falling away from your face to make way for the much louder sentiment, as unsure as it sounded. “I'm going to,” you repeated, “I just thought…”

You trailed off into nothing, totally defeated. You weren’t sure what you had thought but god, you were tired of this. Why was this so difficult? Why was this so complicated? Why hadn’t Josh just shown up like he was supposed to?

You looked to Jake somehow hoping he could give you the answers you were searching for but he looked just as confused, just as lost. And the longer you looked the more he looked…something else entirely.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked almost desperately.

You stuttered. “I mean…I think it's obvious. Or…maybe it isn't, I don't know, I just-”

“We can't be together,” he suddenly blurted out.

If his previous rejection hadn’t hurt, this certainly did. And it brought back to you the words he had said two weeks ago on the couch over pizza and comfort, only this time they seemed to form a coherence they hadn’t quite had when he’d spoken them then.

‘He knows I'm not the answer’.

And then the words that cut a little deeper. A little sharper.

‘Maybe that's why he sends me. He isn't worried about it’.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, all-too aware of what your body language was giving away. You had read it all wrong.

“I…I know that,” you answered quietly, pathetically, even though it wasn’t the truth. Not even close. “I know that.”

His eyes found your face again, this time more frantic, like he knew what he had just done but didn't have any choice in the matter. He raised his hand to your elbow, leaning in as he gripped you. He might have shaken you to try and get you to understand what he was saying if he thought that would go over better than his fingers alone.

“Listen to me, I'm telling you you need to do the right thing. He's my brother. But I can't…I can't be your answer.”

Those damn pesky tears were back, and with a vengeance. If you didn't dart out of there sooner rather than later, you'd be nothing but a puddle of salty water on his kitchen floor and you suddenly had no desire to let him see you that way.

There was anger there too, as misplaced as you knew it was, forming just as quickly and swelling into something so hot it practically blurred your vision. You felt almost lied to. Talk about fucking mixed signals. But you let out a long, terse, “okayyy” without even meeting his eyes, already mentally planning your escape.

“I love you, I do. I love you too much to-”

Bullshit.

“No, I get it,” you interjected before he could drive the knife any deeper. “It's good to know where you stand. Thank you.”

He called out for you more than once but it fell on deaf ears. You were already out of the house.

—

“Where were you?”

Good God, can’t the universe give me a break?

Josh's voice coming out of the near darkness startled you. You knew he was there. You'd seen his car in the driveway when you pulled in. But something about it felt like he was catching you in the middle of sneaking out. Or rather, sneaking in.

“I was out,” was all you said as you sat your things down and kicked off your shoes. You prayed your eyes weren’t still red and puffy from the crying you did on the car ride home.

“Just out?”

There was concern in his voice. You could hear it without even fully seeing his face where it was, shrouded in shadow that seemed all too fitting for the conversation you knew very well was about to be had. He could have easily been hiding from you. Fuck, you wanted to hide from him too.

You wanted to spare him the sigh that was brewing in your chest but it barreled out of you before you could stop it. “I needed to get my thoughts together,” you explained as you stepped further into the house and into the hall where you could better see him.

That was a mistake.

There was already pain in his eyes. Already a redness that you suspected was from his own tears. He knew where this was headed as well as you did.

Fuck, this might actually kill me.

“Why doesn't that sound good?” He gave you a nervous chuckle and the only smile he could manage, both of which fell flat.

“Josh, I…” There was actually nothing coming to your mind, try as hard as you did to think of the right thing to say. To think of anything to say for that matter. But he took pity on you instead and cut right to it. Something you might have been thankful for under any other circumstances. Well, maybe you still were thankful for it given these circumstances.

“I know,” he said without prompting. “I've been spread so thin lately-”

“For a while,” you corrected, only a tinge of the bitterness you felt biting into your tone. “And it's not really feeling like ‘spread thin’ so much as it is not making the time for…certain things. Things that should be a priority.”

Well that certainly sounded bitter.

“I know, baby. I've been wrapped up in a million little things. We're working on a new sound but it has required more of me than the others.”

You felt yourself wince at the pet name, a lump in your throat forming almost out of nowhere and suddenly threatening to strangle you.

You fought against it to push the words out. “Josh, I hear you, I really do, but this just isn't sustainable for me.”

He nodded at this but you could tell he was deep in thought. And his silence seemed to drag on for an eternity. Agonizingly. But when he finally broke it, you found yourself missing that silence.

“Does this have something to do with Jake?” he asked, raising his eyes to yours to undoubtedly impress upon you the importance of the question.

Suddenly you felt cold despite the sweat practically pooling in your palms and the heat flaring in your ears. You couldn't face him and tell him that you had fallen for Jake after all of the late nights you'd spent with him. You couldn’t admit to him the embarrassing truth that you had gone to seek him out, lying to yourself about why the whole time. And you certainly couldn’t admit to him how often you had thought of his brother when you found yourself alone over the past few months. But Josh seemed to glean every last one of those secrets from your silence alone.

“Where were you?” He finally asked the question you'd skirted around when you'd arrived home.

You didn't rarely hear Josh with anything you could call stern in his voice but you heard it now in his question. And his eyes begged the answer from you just as desperately as his tone did.

That was when you began to feel the tears well up for the second time that night. Your undereyes wouldn’t recover until the next week.

“Josh-” you croaked out, although he didn't seem to need you to finish whatever thought you were weakly stringing together into words.

“I shouldn't have let him do it. I shouldn't have let him near you that way.”

“It wouldn't have mattered,” you tried.

“Yes it would have. We wouldn't be here right now if I hadn't pushed you into his arms.”

“If it hadn't been him, I would have just been alone. All alone, Josh.” Even with the tears streaming silently down your face, you said his name pointedly enough that his shoulders seemed to slump and whatever anger was brewing for his brother was waning. “All alone for months and months thinking my boyfriend couldn't care less. Hoping I would at least get a text from you that time rather than Jake acting like some sort of carrier pigeon, as if that was any replacement.”

You'd never seen him so hurt. You'd never seen his face droop and fall that way, his lips melting downward at the corners and the liquid warmth of his eyes almost freezing over. Even his curls seemed to lose their bounce. He was wilting right in front of you and it only made it harder to breathe. It only made it harder to stand there and face him and say whatever the fuck it was you’d been putting off for that very reason.

If you don't do it now, you never will.

You wiped at your tears as best you could, trying to pull yourself together. “It hurts me,” you started. “Having you so close and yet so far constantly, it hurts me and I just can't do it anymore. And I don't want to wait until I resent you. I can't sit around waiting for that to happen. It'll kill me if I ever feel that way for you.”

Tears were now pouring down his face as he shook his head. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

If he said anything else, you could barely hear it above the racing of your heart in your chest and the dam breaking somewhere behind your eyes. It was like a tsunami when it came, folding you over until you slumped around yourself on the ground to let it wrack through your body. And he was there just as quickly, holding you despite the fact that he most certainly didn't have to. Clinging to you and his sorry's.

You weren't sure how much time passed as you sat there. You could hardly feel it ticking through your tears and a feeling that felt awfully close to regret. You couldn't feel the passage of the wind and the world beyond the strength of Josh's arms holding fast to your form, knowing that when he let go, he wouldn't have this opportunity again. It almost felt cruel, like a moment you should have had among many others but was stolen away from you all at once. So you basked in it. You bathed in it. You memorized his touch and his smell and the way it felt to be supported, even if you hadn't felt it in a while.

You had your reasons, you knew that. Had to remind yourself of it, even. But at the moment, you had nothing but him.

The tears always dried though. They always racked your body and stripped you of your strength and energy and when they vacated, just like they always did, you were left sitting, leaning against the wall of the hallway, in an almost daze-like state. Stuck in a limbo between sorrow and anger and humor. Every emotion you had seemed to sit at the edge of your being waiting for a moment to pounce in a state like this, and you were always left wondering what would take hold next.

Josh mimicked your movements, sitting opposite you like a mirror into what you probably looked like. And for a while, you sat in silence.

“I just want you to be happy,” he said after several moments. “That's all I've ever wanted.”

You nodded and sniffled, wiping your eyes and your nose with the back of your hand like a toddler.

“I know.”

“I mean it.”

I know.

You nodded again but this time when you spoke, your voice was even.

“I know.”

You tapped your fingers against your knee, butt going numb against the hardwood floor and eyes feeling stiff at the corners thanks to the dried tears accumulated there. And it was funny in a way that really wasn’t funny at all that as you sat there and stared at Josh silently, you couldn't help but think to yourself how beautiful he was.

Fucking twins.

“Does Jake make you happy?” Josh asked suddenly, studying your face.

The short answer was yes but the long answer?

‘He knows I'm not the answer’.

“I don't know,” you admitted. And you hoped he believed you when you said it because you really didn't.

You liked how he made you feel. You liked that he was there when no one else was. But was he the answer? You had no idea, actually. Maybe you wanted him to be more than he actually was. Or maybe, just maybe, you just liked having sex with him.

Ha. Well, that's at least some of it. Not that it matters anymore.

You were shamelessly giggling to yourself at the entirely humorless situation you found yourself in even before Josh joined in, bringing his hand to hide his mouth like he was in on the secret joke and attempting to keep it just that, a secret.

“You should probably decide before I have a chance to kill him.” And then after a moment, he added, “Well to be honest with you, I might just kill him anyway.”

You couldn't even explain why but that did you in, spurred a full on fit of laughter. And somehow, Josh found himself laughing right beside you.

Typical Josh. Always a bright spot. Even if it hurt him to be.

—

You hadn't left your house in days. Hadn't washed your sweatpants in as long either. The takeout boxes were certainly piling up too. And had you already finished off the last of your wine stockpile?

Gonna need to hit the grocery store soon. Or Instacart, at the very least.

And when your couch hadn't been occupied by friends spoon-feeding you whatever therapy you needed, be that advice or ice cream, you found yourself alone with more thoughts than you cared to deal with.

And one name in your mind that you avoided at all costs.

You hadn't even texted him that it was over. Hadn't called. Hadn't seen his face or heard his voice or even uttered his name. But God, you felt it, that ache. The longing. The familiar itch that he had scratched for you one too many times that now begged for nails to rake across it.

Relief. You wanted him. You maybe even needed him. That was what the emptiness had shown you. Whatever it was that he even was to you, you missed it. You craved it. But in your hour of need, he was the last thing available to you. And you were certainly stubborn enough not to chase.

Until you eventually weren’t stubborn enough.

You had no idea what had possessed you to rise from the couch that day, throw on a sweatshirt to shield you from the rain, grab your car keys, and drive to his place. You had no idea what possessed you to jump from your car and brave the violent sheets of rain that threatened to topple you as your fist made contact with his door a bit more angrily than maybe it should have. And you had no idea what had possessed you to do all of this just to say what it was you said.

Maybe I enjoy getting hurt.

You weren't invited in. In fact, you weren't even greeted with any words. He seemed breathless the moment he opened the door and his brain caught up with his eyes, whether that was thanks to your unruly appearance made all that much worse by the rain or simply the fact that you were the last person he expected to see standing on his porch after what he had said. After what you had done.

Probably should have run a brush through my hair before coming here.

And then you blurted it out.

“I ended it.”

The rain raged on in an angry war against you but you stood defiantly, like there was some ground there to hold. And maybe there was. It certainly felt like there was. If it wasn't the rain, it was his eyes, staring dangerously into yours and then, even without a single utterance from him still, you saw it. It was undeniable and unmissable.

Jake's eyes flickered down to your lips where they lingered for what felt like an eternity but in actuality was about two seconds. Two of the longest seconds you'd ever felt, waiting for someone to do something about it.

“I just thought you should know,” you added.

And then you left.

[ihatemakingusernames]

She had been gaining slowly... steadily... For awhile now. She seemed to want to hide her new belly, larger chest, pillowy arms, and soft hips but what she couldn't hide is how much she loved to eat. Her face would light up at the thought of food, you could see how it's inviting scent caused her pleasure, and the taste... Oh the taste... She would sway to it almost as if the flavors were a symphony on her tongue.

She and I had been friends for years. I knew she had an appetite before, but the pounds had been kept at bay by her vigorous zeal for the gym. Unfortunately though, she had just gone through a rough breakup and as any good friend would, I strongly encouraged her to take care of her broken heart by staying home and binging movies and snacks.

What I didn't expect was for her to still be binging without exercise 6 months later. All her clothes had gotten tight, almost embarrassingly so. You could hear the seams of her jeans screaming as she sat down, and at every meal she desperately tried to prevent her snug shirts from rolling up to her tits as her gut expanded.

She was very shy and clearly embarrassed of her new size but she was also not planning to stop gorging herself... And packing on the pounds... Any time soon. I couldn't lie, I always thought she was gorgeous but her softening frame just made her even more beautiful. She would catch me looking at her as she ate and blush deeply trying to hide that she had noticed.

I was fine with our relationship continuing as it had, just friends. I had no intention of telling her how sexy she had become since gaining all that weight... Or how night after sleepless night I dreamed of stuffing her until she was temporarily immobile; her beautiful, fat, greedy face panting at just how full I had made her.

Until one day, she had gotten a little too gluttonous at lunch. She had nearly gotten stuck in the booth before we even ordered and after, her pants button finally gave in and launched across the restaurant into some poor man's soup.

She hurried outside as fast as the lard coated logs she called legs could carry her. She was sweating, panting, and completely red faced by the time we got in the car. She was stunning. I couldn't help myself, I couldn't hold in my lust any longer. I leaned over, grabbed that fat, distended gut, and kissed her icing glazed lips passionately.

I could tell she was surprised but, I could feel her melt into my kiss and let out tiny muffled moans at my touch. Her hands began to trace my body, reserved at first but then with reckless abandon.

I pulled back and looked into her eyes:

"My my, greedy little piggy is just as horny as she is hungry, isn't she?"

Her hips bucked as a loud moan escaped her pouting lips.

"Dirty, slutty, gluttonous girl loves her new fat body, doesn't she? Is that why your gym membership has been gathering dust, fatass? You want to get bigger, don't you"

She nodded, eagerly, double chin jiggling furiously at the movement.

"Oh my pretty little pet, you've done such a good job growing this huge lardy body, but now that I know you love it as much as I do, you're going to get really really fat. You may have just eaten the whole menu at this restaurant but, there's several drive thrus on the way back to my place, and you're going to show me just how much of a fucking hog you can really be. Now oink for me lardass, and get ready to be fucking stuffed within an inch of your life."

[vodika-vibes]

A Different Kind of Happily Ever After

Summary: Seven years after you're exiled from your home world due to the actions of other people, you've made a good life for yourself. You have a new name, a new family, and you don't think about the world you were forced to leave behind. Until, suddenly, you no longer have a choice.

Pairing: Pre-Commander Wolffe x F!Reader (Named Winter)

Word Count: 3069

Warnings: Reader is/was Snow White. Reader now goes by the name Winter.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This will probably have several other parts, since I like the idea behind it.

Your hands shake as you clutch your fine leather book to your chest. This is your book. The book you were assigned when you were an infant. The book that determined what your name was and what path you were destined to walk in life. 

Your grip tightens around the book, and you absently trace the apple etched onto the front of the book as you try to settle your nerves.

You don’t understand.

It makes no sense.

You followed your book to the letter. 

You suffered. You were hunted. You allowed your step-mother to poison you. You met your Prince Charming and he saved you from your eternal slumber-

And yet-

And yet.

The door to the room you’ve been locked in for hours finally opens, and you shudder as the Lorekeeper walks in. He gazes at you through darkened eyes, and you duck your head to try and avoid his judgemental gaze.

You haven’t done anything wrong!

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, while I looked into this fiasco.” The Lorekeeper seems to glide across the room and settles in the chair across from where you are sitting. “I’m sure you must be confused and frightened.”

“Yes sir,” You whisper, but you can’t help but notice that he hasn’t used your name once since he entered the room.

The man nods, “Then let me begin with what I know.” He folds his hands on his desk, “You took a bite of a poisoned apple, as your story dictates, and fell into an enchanted slumber. Prince Charming came and woke you up, as his story goes. Is this correct?”

You nod mutely.

“Very good. The problem comes in after that. You were meant to go with Prince Charming to his kingdom, where you and he would marry and have your happily ever after. However, Prince Charming broke his story, and instead elected to abandon you in the forest.”

Your knuckles are white, with how tightly you’re holding onto your book. “That’s also correct.” You say finally, after the silence in the room becomes deafening.

“Prince Charming has since married another woman and has claimed that he is her Prince Charming,” The Lorekeeper leans back in his chair, “And after some digging, it appears that he is correct. Which begs the question, what happens to you?”

You lift your gaze, and can feel any color in your face drain at the look on the Lorekeepers face, “Sir?”

“You are no longer Snow White. You don’t have a story,” He almost sounds apologetic, though his eyes are colder than ice, “Which means that you cannot stay here.”

Panic seizes you, “What! But this is my home!”

“Enough.” He doesn’t raise his voice, but you flinch back as though he just brandished a blade at you, “This is not a negotiation. You cannot remain here without a book.”

“But…what will happen to me? Where will I go?” You ask.

“I have made arrangements for a shuttle to bring you to the station above the planet, and I have also made arrangements for you to get a one way flight to Coruscant.”

“I-”

“We live a blessed life here,” The Lorekeeper interrupts, “Untroubled by the horrors of the galaxy, and I freely admit that our education is lacking. So you will spend a month on a space station catching up on everything you need to know about the larger galaxy-”

You surge to your feet, “I’m 14!” You shout, “I’m still legally a minor everywhere! You can’t-”

The Lorekeeper turns to look at you, and your words die on your tongue, “I have been generous up until this point, Nameless one.” He says quietly, “Raise your voice to me again, and you won’t be leaving my office.”

You fall back into your seat, and the Lorekeeper nods. He circles his desk and rips your book from your hands, before he tosses it into the fireplace. The thin pages of the book cut your fingers open, and you stare at the blood welling up on the tips of your fingers.

“You will need a new name, you are no longer Snow White.” The Lorekeeper continues as if he hadn’t just threatened you, “My attendants will be with you shortly to deal with the appearance problem-”

“...appearance problem?”

“Snow White has skin as white as snow, hair the color of ebony, and lips the color of an apple.” The Lorekeeper says emotionlessly, “You are no longer Snow White, so you can’t look like that anymore. You needn’t worry. It’s a painless procedure.”

“How am I supposed to survive on my own?” You ask.

The Lorekeeper stares at you as his office door opens and three figures glide in. “That is no longer my concern.” He turns to the figures, which you suddenly realize truly are formless. They look like walking dolls, with no hair or discernible features at all. “Take her. Give her some control over her appearance, but ensure that she no longer looks like Snow White.”

The figures bow, and you’re ushered out of the room before you really know what’s happening.

They sweep you into a clean room, and silently strap you to a hospital bed. And no matter how hard you try, you’re unable to pull yourself free. The figures inject you with something, and the last thing you remember before you slip into merciful, blissful darkness, and the faceless figures looming over you.

“There you are!”

You look up from where you’re crouching in a flower bed, and glance at one of your many coworkers. This specific coworker, a Nautolan who is in charge of ensuring that the water is safe to use on the plants, is a friend. His name is Zakon, and you and he were raised in the same Foster home until you both aged out of the system.

“Hey, Zak.” You reply, “Something wrong?”

“Yes! That absolute hag of a woman, Karien, brought in apple turnovers for her Name day, even though she knows that you’re allergic.” Zak rages.

You roll your eyes, “You know as well as I do that I don’t eat things that other people bring in for that very reason. It’s nothing to be upset about.”

“I’m still upset.” Zak replies.

“You’re so sensitive, brother mine.” You say with a laugh, as you straighten and brush the dirt off of your hands, “Anyway, have you heard from mom recently?”

“Yeah. She wanted to know if I was going to come to little Jay’s birthday party. I told her it depends on if I have to work or not.” Zak replies, “I’m guessing she asked you too?”

“Yeah. I told her I wouldn’t be going. I was slated to be a tour guide for a local elementary school on that day.” You flash a wry smile, “Needless to say, mom was not thrilled about that.”

“I’m not sure why she wants you there at all. No offense, Winter, but you’re not exactly her favorite child.” Zak grins, “Probably because you named yourself a season and didn’t let mom name you.”

“Okay, look-” You say as you set your hands on your hips, “Summer and Autumn are proper names, who says Winter can’t be a name too?” And then you fold your arms, “Besides, I wasn’t about to let anyone else name me, what if they decide to take my name back?”

“Girl, you have issues. Names aren’t like name day presents, they can’t be taken back.” Zak says dryly. It’s a conversation the pair of you have had many times, and it’s something that you’ve never been able to agree on.

“You do realize that Name Day presents aren’t supposed to be taken back, right? Like, that’s only something our foster parents do.” You point out, “Also, that plant you’re about to lean against will give you a rash if you touch it.”

Zak swears and jumps off the stone wall, “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“I just did.” You roll your eyes, “Relax, you didn’t touch it.”

“But I might have!”

You roll your eyes again.

It’s been seven years since the day you were exiled from your home. And you like to think that you’ve adjusted nicely to life in the wider galaxy. You have a family and you have friends, and you even managed to go to college and get a degree.

You have a nice job, working at the Botanical garden on Coruscant, and you get paid very well for your time and effort. 

Of course, not everything is perfect.

You found out, only after you left home, that you developed a severe allergy to apples. Severe enough, in fact, that the first time your foster mother made an apple pie, you ended up in the ICU for three days while the doctors tried to save your life.

And, of course, there’s the fact that even after seven years, you still get surprised when you look at yourself in the mirror. The Lorekeeper’s attendants hadn’t changed as much as you feared they might have. Well, your face is the same shape, at least.

Really, all they did was darken your skin several shades away from the alabaster that you were born with, and lighten your hair from black to dark brown.

It could have been so much worse.

Maybe if you keep repeating that to yourself, you’ll someday believe it.

“-llooo? Coruscant to Winter!”

You smack Zak’s hand away from your face as he pokes your cheek, “Why are you touching me?”

“You zoned out to Lala Land, I was just trying to return you to the real world.” Zak replies with a grin.

“You mean the real world where we have a Chancellor who’s been leading for a lot longer than his term limit and the fact that we’re at war? That real world?”

“Wow, you’re such a downer sometimes.”

“Mm. Love democracy. Especially when it’s fake democracy-” You say lazily.

“Wait, aren’t you from a Monarchy?”

“We’re not talking about me. But yes, I am.” You glare at him, “But that’s a stupid way to govern too.”

“Aww,” Zak squishes your cheeks with his hands, “You’re such an adorable little anarchist.”

You swat his hands away, “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yep. I need to go and check the water levels near the water plants,” Zak says cheerfully, “Do you?”

You scowl at him, “There’s some kind of parasite eating some of the Nubian plants, so I need to go to the lab and talk to the scientists.”

“Mm, your job is so fun,” Zak says as he makes a face. “Parasites.”

You bump him with your shoulder, “Go away, Zak.”

He laughs and turns towards the water exhibits, “Oh! I almost forgot!” He says a moment later, “Kam wants to know if you’re coming to dinner this weekend? He’s making some sort of fish dinner.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You call back.

“Awesome! Kam will be thrilled! I swear, he likes you more than me.”

You scoff, “Please, he married you. I’m just the only sibling you have who isn’t homophobic.”

Zak grins, “I’ll get them to chill out eventually.”

You shake your head with a sigh, “So you say, Zak. So you say.” You wave and take the narrow path that leads to the lab. You push the door open, and walk the familiar halls until you reach one of the scientists.

“What’s wrong?” The woman asks without looking up from her microscope.

“There’s some kind of parasite attacking Nubian plants.” You reply as you set a sample container on the table, “Just the Nubian plants, though. It’s not touching any of the other plants in the same area.”

“Hm…” The scientist takes the bottle and looks at it, “Strange. I’ll take a look, reach out to our counterparts on Naboo, they might have an answer. Thanks.”

“Yeah, just let me know what needs to be done.” But the woman isn’t paying attention to you anymore. You shake your head and leave the lab as quickly as you arrived.

With that done, and with nothing else on your schedule for another few hours, you decide to leave the botanical gardens to grab your lunch. There’s a nice little deli not far from the gardens that has the best sandwiches, and they’re not super expensive either. 

So you clock out, and leave out the side entrance to make the short walk to the deli. And, since it’s a nice day, you also consider eating your lunch outside at the deli, rather than bringing it back to work.

As you approach the deli, you make a face when you see how busy it is, but since you have time, you decide to just stand in line behind a Kel Dor Jedi and one of the clones from the GAR.

You feel for the clones. All of them.

Having your whole life planned out from the moment you’re born is twisted and wrong.

It took you a long time to come to terms with that.

You wish you could do something to help them, but…well, it’s not like you’re a soldier or a politician. You’re a botanist. And no botanist has ever saved anyone.

Hell, you weren’t even able to save yourself.

And while you’ve come to accept that there’s nothing shameful about needing to be saved, it doesn’t do anything to help the clones.

So, while you burn with the injustice and unfairness of the lives of the clones, you say nothing. 

You’re vaguely aware of the Jedi and his Commander chatting quietly, but you aren’t really listening to them until you hear a familiar name.

“I’ve never heard of the planet Castus,” The clone says, a frown on his face, “What do you know about it, General?”

“Not much, I’m afraid.” The Jedi replies, “Castus isn’t a Republic world, but it’s not a Separatist world either. As I understand it, they are vehemently insular.”

“And yet someone from Castus reached out to the Order?”

“Just so. They want a member of the order to visit the planet to help with something-”

“You’ll never be allowed to land,” You interrupt without meaning to, and your face heats when two pairs of eyes turn towards you, but you continue anyway, “On Castus. You’ll never be allowed to land.”

“They requested aid-” The Jedi says in a very soothing voice.

“The Lorekeeper would never.” You say bluntly, “And only the Lorekeeper is allowed to communicate with the outside.”

“General?”

“The person who contacted the Jedi did not claim to be this Lorekeeper.”

“Then whoever they are is trying to set you up.” You absently twist some hair between your fingers, “Outsiders are forbidden from entering Castus. You’ll ruin too many stories.” You didn’t mean to sound bitter about that, but really, you can’t help it.

“And how would you know anything about Castus if outsiders aren’t allowed?” The Clone asks as he turns to face you fully. His armor is white and gray, and he has a cybernetic eye. He’s handsome in spite of the scar on his face.

“Because I was exiled from Castus when I was 14.”

The Jedi turned to you fully this time, “Forgive me, but what crime could a child of 14 have committed to deserve exile?”

You shrug, uncomfortable, “My story ended up broken because of someone else involved in my story. And because of that I lost my name, my title, my home, and my appearance.” You pause, “The Lorekeeper made arrangements for me to get a very quick education on the station around the planet, and he paid for a one way ticket here, but after that I was on my own.”

“You were a kid.” The Jedi says with a frown.

“Yeah. It took less than an hour for the authorities to realize that I was an abandoned kid, and I was shoved into Foster care immediately.” You shrug again, “Anyway. Someone’s trying to set you up. The Lorekeeper definitely didn’t call you.”

The two men share a look, and then the Jedi turns back to you, “My name is Plo Koon, and this is my Commander, Wolffe. What’s your name, my dear?”

“Oh, ah…I’m Winter.”

“Winter? Like the season?” Wolffe asks.

You scowl at him, “Wolf, like the animal?”

He blinks at you, surprised, and then a smirk lifts the corner of his lips, “I thought nat borns had normal names.”

“If people can be named Summer and Autumn then I can definitely be called Winter!”

Plo clears his throat, “Children, please behave.” 

“Sorry, General.” Wolffe says sheepishly as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.” You say.

“It’s quite alright,” He smiles at the pair of you, and you get the feeling that something about the situation is amusing him, “Miss Winter, would you be willing to come to the Jedi Temple and tell us about Castus?”

“Er…If you want?” You push your hand through your hair, “I mean, I have to go back to work in a couple of hours-”

“I’m sure I can make arrangements with your boss to steal you for the rest of the day,” Master Koon says peacefully, “With your permission?”

“Oh, uh…well if you think it’s important.” You say slowly, “But I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be.”

“Well, right now we know nothing about Castus, so any information is better than walking in blind.” Wolffe points out.

“Just so, Commander.” Master Koon says warmly, “I need to make a few calls to get this started. Commander, feel free to order as much as you like-”

“I can’t ask you to pay for me, General-”

“Then I’ll pay for you.” You interject smoothly, “I’m starving and I make enough to pay for us both.”

Wolffe stares at you, and then he sighs, “Fine. If you really want to pay for me, then I suppose I can’t argue.”

“No, you can’t.” You lightly push him back into line, and you’re vaguely aware of Master Koon chuckling behind you as he steps out of the deli, already pulling his comm out of his pocket.

And as anxious as you are, you never wanted to think about Castus again, or to tell anyone about the life you lived while on Castus, you know that you’ll do it because it’s important. 

After all, you said that you wanted to help the clones, right?

[maggiedelusional]

Let Me Go (Epilogue)

Pairing: Hangman x f!reader, Rooster x f!reader

Warnings: none, teenagers being teenagers, ANGST (but you knew that), bittersweet ending

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Reader is married and shares a child with Hangman, Life and circumstance drives reader into Rooster’s arms, but Hangman isn’t giving up that easily

A/N: Here it is the epilogue of Let Me Go. I can't believe this story that I thought of during my commute to work last summer, a story that I didn't anyone but me would care about is now at its official end. Even if it did take almost a year, and several hiatuses to get here. I will admit this past year has been some of the hardest of my life, with so many changes and obstacles I've gone through. But this story, this community has always been a safe space for me to run to. I'm sure that not everyone will be happy with how I chose to end this story, but this past year has taught me to trust my instincts as a writer and I will not please everyone, but I hope you understand why I went with what I did. I don't know if you all know this but Let Me Go is actually the first full-length multi-part series I've ever created, and I just wanted to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for taking this journey with me. Whether you've been here from the beginning, if you're a casual reader, someone who has waited months for me to update, to the people who have left me kind and supportive comments, and even to those who weren't necessarily the kindest. Thank you. Enough with all of that, without further ado, Let Me Go the final FINAL part.

Declan Belmont had Astrid pressed against the brick wall at the back of their high school. They definitely should not have been skipping 4th period, but the feeling of how soft her lips against his and the sounds of her whimpers as he grabbed the skin of her hips, definitely made him forget about the important test review they were currently missing. 

“Dec, slow down.” She pulled herself away from him, trying to even her breath. 

“We are not hooking up next to the soccer field.” She told him with a raised eyebrow. 

He let out an exaggerated groan before turning them both around until Declan’s back was the one against the wall. 

“Fine, fair enough” He chuckled as he gave his girlfriend a small peck on the lips. 

“I can’t help it, you look so good today.” He sighed pressing his face into her collarbone breathing in her scent. 

“I can’t keep my hands off of you.” He mumbled into her chest. 

Astrid let out a giggle, pulling his face away from her.

“You say that everyday.” 

“And it’s true!” He exclaimed

“Every. Single. Day” He pecked her lips in between every word. 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“YOUR dork.” 

“Ew you sound just like my dad.” She said, feigning a disgusted face. 

“Speaking of your dad, when are you going to introduce me to your family?” Declan asks her, his once joking demeanor fading to nervousness. 

Astrid backed away from his touch, putting distance between them. 

“Dec..” 

“Come on Atty! We’ve been official for almost 6 months! You’ve met my mom, my brother, even my stupid cousin.”

“Your cousin doesn’t count, we have trig together.” You pointed out.

“Okay fine, but besides the point, you’ve met them!” 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He asked solemnly

“No! That’s not it Dec! My family is just…” Astrid stops to piece together her thoughts.

“They’re absolutely insane!” 

“My aunts and uncles are so loud ALL THE TIME. It’s basically impossible to get ANY work done whenever they’re around.” 

“Don’t get me started on how nosey my Uncle Mickey gets. Like I think that man forgets that he’s nearing 50 and does not need to know why Beca from fourth grade and I aren’t friends anymore.” 

“Or how my Aunt Nat and Uncle Bob, LOVE to torture my dad and the sweet little imbecile he is always takes the bait.”

Astrid didn’t notice how intense her tirade was until she felt her face heating up and Declan staring at her in amusement.

“Sorry..” she told him embarrassed at her outburst. 

“You should really breathe in between monologues, you were turning blue babe.” 

“See what I mean? They make me CRAZY, and I didn’t want you to see that side of me quite yet.” Astrid admitted.

Declan chuckled before approaching Astrid, wrapping his arms around her waist, and using a finger to have her look up at him. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I happen to like your crazy.” Declan kisses the pout off of Astrid’s face. 

“And I really like you, and I don’t see anything short of you committing murder, changing that.” 

“Can I get that in writing?” 

“I’ll even get it notarized.” 

“Lucky for you, my family’s monthly barbeque is happening tomorrow, and I can maybeee get you an invitation.”

“Aw you’d do that for me babe?” 

“I guess, and I do happen to know the host of the party.” 

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

Declan felt a knot form in his stomach as he stood outside Astrid's house, trying to muster the courage to knock on the door. He knew he shouldn't be nervous, but he couldn't help the feeling of apprehension that was creeping up on him. What if her family didn't like him? What if he did something embarrassing? What if he accidentally insulted someone?

He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Technically this was his idea, and Astrid had continually warned him about her family’s many quirks but assured him that they did have good hearts. But she didn’t elaborate further. Declan now mentally kicked himself for not asking more questions about them, now he was going into this meeting blind with no preparation or any talking points. 

“Fucking Amateur Hour Declan!” He muttered to himself, there’s no going back and changing the past now. He couldn’t stand on the front porch forever. 

Finally, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. He could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation coming from inside the house, and his nerves intensified. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open and he was greeted by an older man, a silver fox with a broad chest wearing a leather military flight jacket. He wasn’t very tall but it didn’t make him any less terrifying. 

“So you’re the boy our little Astrid has been seeing.”  He greeted Declan with a grin 

The man had a warm smile and Declan felt himself release the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

Declan held out a hand towards the older man to shake. 

“No need for all of that son, welcome to the party!” 

The older man pulled Declan into a hug, clapping him on the back and dragging him into the house. 

“Don’t scare him off Pete, he just got here!” A beautiful older woman with brown shoulder length hair and kind eyes laughed at the man. 

“Sorry about him Declan, he’s just excited.”

“I’m Penny, and this is Pete.”

“Call me Mav, son.” He smiled at Declan. 

They led him to the back of the house towards the glass doors with a deck where he had a a clear view into the backyard. 

He saw a handful of men and women standing around the large yard. They held themselves in a way that made it obvious that they were military despite being out of uniform. 

Declan felt his previous nervousness return, feeling his throat get dry. He placed his hand on the door to open it, when he realized that he never properly greeted Astrid’s parents. 

“I am so sorry, I was so nervous that I forgot my manners. It’s so nice to finally meet you Mr. and Mrs Seresin.” Declan beamed at the older couple. 

“Astrid is an amazing girl and its an honor to meet the people that raised her.”

Penny and Mav stared at Declan in confusion before bursting into laughter. 

Declan stood confused at the sudden outburst. 

After they settled down, Mav clapped a hand on Declan’s shoulder. 

“You flatter us son. But we’re not Astrid’s parents.”

“I am Atty’s godmother, and Mav here is her grandpa.” 

“Hey! You say that like I’m old!” Mav pouted.

“If I’m her grandpa that makes you her grandma.” He pointed out.

“No way old man, I am perfectly happy being Auntie Penny.” 

“Yeah Yeah.” Mav wrapped an arm around Penny’s waist giving her a kiss on the temple. 

Declan felt slightly awkward watching this interaction, he wasn’t exactly used to PDA from adult couples, mostly due to his own family history of divorce. But most of it stemmed from the embarassment of wrongly assuming his girfriend’s parentage. 

“You can relax son, we definitely helped her parents with babysitting and carpool, but we can’t take credit for the woman she’s become.” Mav explained. 

“And don’t worry about us, if Atty likes you, then we like you.” 

“And that goes for all those other meatheads out in the backyard.” Penny reassured him. 

Declan nodded as the couple led him to the outside. 

“Look whos here!” Mav announced to the other attendants of the barbeque. 

The group waved and roared with excitement, greeting Declan from his vantage point on the deck. 

“Hey Dec!” His girlfriend greeted him. 

Declan momentarily forgot his troubles as he took in his girlfriend’s appearance. She looked like sunshine in her frilly yellow sundress, her head adorned with a puffy white headband, her smile beaming as she walked towards Declan’s position on the deck. 

“You’ll be okay son, we all got your back. The only person here you need to impress is that guy.” Mav pointed at a younger man, taller and somehow more menacing looking, manning the grill. 

Declan took a hard gulp as Astrid finally approached him, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the stairs of the deck towards a gathering of 3. 

“Dec, This is my Auntie Nat, Uncle Bob, and Uncle Mickey.” 

“Guys, this is Declan Belmont, my boyfriend.” 

“Nice to meet you Declan.” The woman greeted him. 

The shorter man with wire framed glasses simply smiled and nodded at Declan in greeting. 

The final man, seemed to be of hispanic descent with short buzzed hair. 

He surprised Declan by pulling him into a hug. 

“Its nice to finally put a face to a name!” Uncle Mickey beamed at Declan. 

“We all know how picky our Atty can get, so you must be something special.” 

Uncle Mickey pulled back on hug before throwing an arm around Declan’s shoulders and pulled him aside from the group and whispering. 

“ I want to know everything, do you know what you want to do after graduation? Anything you’re thinking of studying? How did you and Astrid meet? Do you love her?”

“Uncle Mickey!”

“Fanboy!” 

The other members of the group obviously heard everything from the forced huddle despite Mickey’s attempt at whispering. 

“We’ll reconvene later.” He gave a final whisper before turning back around to the rest of the group. 

Declan found purchase by Astrid’s side one again wrapping an arm around her wasit. 

“Oh no you won’t Uncle Mickey.” Astrid glared at Fanboy. 

“Yeah leave the damn boy alone.” Phoenix added. 

Bob stood silently in the middle amusement clear on his face, holding in his laughter. 

“But mija, How am I supposed to find out?”

“Fanboy, the boy has been here less than 5 minutes and you’re already giving him the third degree.” Phoenix rolled her eyes at her frend. 

“I just wanna get to know him better, see why Atty likes him so much.” 

“And don’t act like I’m the only one who’s curious” Fanboy pointed at his friends. 

“You know what, you’re right!” Bob finally spoke out. 

“I do wanna know.” 

Natasha stared at her friends in disbelief, before her face released its scowl in a look of agreement with the two men. Crossing the middle and standing by the two male daggers. 

“Traitor!” Astrid frowned at her aunt. 

“Sorry kiddo, Fanboy’s got a point”

Astrid’s face turned red in embarrassment. 

“Y’all promised to be cool.” Astrid pouted. 

The three aviators shot her an apologetic look with a shrug. 

Declan felt so much warmth and joy from watching his girlfriend interact with her family, despite their antics they all clearly deeply for one another. Almost made him forget about the menacing man across the yard watching his every move. Especially at his hand placement.

He quickly took his hand off of Astrid’s waist. Which took her by surprise, and made her think that he was horrified at her crazy family. 

“I am so sorry about them Dec. I asked them to be normal ” Astrid turned to him with pleading eyes.

Declan was confused at her uneasiness

“Don’t be! I think they’re sweet.” He replied joyfully. 

“And I will be happy to answer any and all questions you all ask me.” Declan announced to the three before distractedly looking off to the distance back to the man by the grill. 

“Then why did you..?” Astrid began to ask but trailed off as she followed her boyfriend’s line of sight, her aunt and uncles doing the same. 

“Ahh, the big man.” Mickey deduced. 

“Him? A Big Man?” 

“Are we looking at the same person right now?” Phoenix raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“I mean yeah he’s not a big man to us, but imagine how Declan feels right now.”

“Guys, you’re not making it any better.” Astrid sighed. 

“Don’t worry about him, he only looks like a grizzly bear, in actuality he is a big soft teddy bear.” Phoenix reassured the boy. 

Declan was still frozen in his place, feeling smaller he’s ever felt in his life. 

“He’s gotta meet him at some point kid, go rip the bandaid off.” Phoenix reminded her niece. 

“You’re probably right Aunt Nat.” Astrid sighed. 

“Come on Dec, lets go.” Astrid grabbed Declan’s hand and dragged him towards the grill. 

“Dad!” Astrid exclaimed as walked towards the aviator, with Declan in tow. 

“This is my boyfriend Declan.”

Declan felt frozen in place, never feeling quite as intimidated as he had in this exact moment. He outstretched a hand, a gulp trapped in his throat. The older man gave his hand a firm shake, his grip tightening and holding Declan’s in a steel grip, staring him down. 

“Dad, stop it.” Astrid chastised the man after several agonizing seconds that felt like hours to Declan.  

“But its so funny.” 

The man released his grip and his entire demeanor changed in that exact moment, like a light switch being flipped. The stoic look on his face changed to a dopey grin. 

“You should’ve seen your face! You look like you’re gonna pee your pants!” The older man chuckled. 

Declan laughed awkwardly alongside the aviator. 

“I’m sorry Dec, my dad thinks he’s funny.” 

“You used to think I was funny.” Astrid’s dad pouted.

“Yeah when I was 4”

“When I also used to think mac and cheese and mashed potatoes mixed together was the greatest food to exist.” 

“But Atty…you still think that.” Declan muttered. 

The two men maintained eye contact with one another, their grins slowly getting larger before bursting into laughter. 

Astrid stood still in her spot, a frown planted on her face. 

“Come on babe, just joking around with your dad.” 

“I think I liked you better when you were afraid of everyone.” She glared at her boyfriend. 

“Sir, has she always been this intense?” 

“Yup, even when she was a little girl, terrifying minimum wage teenage face painters who merely suggested to paint her as a butterfly, insisting yoshi was cooler.” 

“Please tell me you have a picture sir.” 

“Come on.. You know I do.” Both men laughing with one another once again. 

“I can’t believe you two are ganging up on me!” Astrid exclaimed.

“And I still stand with that previous claim, Yoshi is cooler than a butterfly.”

“You’re just further proving our point babe.” Declan smiled, reaching for Astrid’s hand once again, now feeling more comfortable. 

She dropped his hand in a huff, folding her arms across her chest. 

“I’m not a big fan of whatever.” 

“This.” waving a finger between the two men 

 “Is”

“Come on Little Chick! I thought you wanted me to get along with your boyfriend.” The mustached man pointed out. 

“Well the two of you can get along all you want in this corner, I’m going to talk to Uncle Javy and Uncle Reuben. At least they’re nice to me.” Astrid pouted as she walked away from Rooster and Declan.

Declan had the biggest smile plastered on his face watching his girlfriend walk away. 

“She’s something isn’t she?” Rooster referred to Astrid’s retreating figure. 

“That she is.”

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

Declan was honestly having a really nice time. He couldn’t remember the last time that he was at an event with extended family. It was just him, his mom, and his brother (sometimes his aunt and cousin) for as long as he could remember. Large in part due to the divorce and his dad constantly traveling for work. So it meant a lot to him that Astrid’s family welcomed him with open arms.

He had spent the better part of the hour asking Astrid’s family members funny embarrassing stories from her childhood, and he also got to meet Astrid’ Uncle Javy and Uncle Reuben, with a few more attendees joining. 

Declan was currently helping Astrid’s dad with the grill, with Mav often coming around to nitpick  the younger men’s work. And Rooster telling him to “fuck off, old man”, with Astrid and Penny laughing at their antics. 

What confused Declan was the lack of appearance from Astrid’s mom. Astrid had never mentioned having a single father so Declan knew that she probably had a mom. 

He was about to open his mouth to ask when he was interrupted by the sound of the backyard fence opening and his girlfriend’s booming voice. 

“Daddy!” 

Daddy? Wasn’t Declan already standing next to her dad?

An older blonde man dressed in service khakis had arms wide open for Astrid as she ran towards him nearly knocking him over. 

“Bagman!” Astrid’s (other?) dad exclaimed. 

The other attendees of the party approached the man. 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Phoenix smirked

“We thought you’d be out in the Pacific for a few more weeks.” Payback commented. 

“Well y’all know me, I get shit done.”

“Plus, I missed little Pixie over here.” He answered hugging his daughter once more. 

How did Declan not know that his girlfriend had two dads? How heteronormative for him to assume that his girlfriend had a typical nuclear family? Then again she’s never mentioned too much of her family. 

The aviators threw greetings and questions at Hangman, with the man in question trying his best to answer them all. 

Declan stood at the edge of the crowd, bewildered at the new addition. Jake noticed the unfamiliar boy amongst the group.

He parted the group stopping all conversation and made eye contact with Declan. 

“Now, whos this?” Jake asked walking towards the boy. 

“Oh, daddy this is Declan. My boyfriend.” Astrid smiled introducing him. 

“Boyfriend already?” Jake turned to Bradley. 

“I thought we had more time.”

“Thats exactly what I was thinking, I was not ready.” Bradley clapped jake on the shoulder. 

“I am 16. I am more than ready. You should be too” Astrid rolled her eyes at the two men. 

“As long as you’re not ready for other things.” Bradley raised an eyebrow at the girl while Jake gave Declan a death glare. 

Astrid’s cheeks turned bright red. 

“Dad, Daddy, you’re embarassing me!” She was mortified at their behavior. 

“We just wanna make sure this boy is not gonna pressure you into something you’re not comfortable with.” Jake explained. 

“I would never sirs!” Declan interjected. 

“I can vouch for him Hangman, hes a good kid.” Bradley responded. 

“I’m going inside, this is mortifying.” Astrid ran into the house. 

“Do you need me to-?” Decaln started to follow behind her before being stopped by Jake. 

“She’ll be fine son, you stay right here.”

“ Rooster might’ve vouched for you but I’m still gonna take a peek under your hood. Make my own conclusion.” Jake led Declan to the outdoor seating beside the deck stairs. 

“So Declan right? You got a last name?” Jake asked as they both sat down.

“Belmont sir.” 

“Belmont? As in Vice Admiral Richard Belmont?” He inquired. 

“Yes sir, he’s my father.” 

“I know your dad, he works right under me, good man, dedicated to the work, dedicated to his country.”

“He works under you?” 

The pieces finally connected in Declan’s brain. Astrid Seresin. Seresin. Commander of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Jacob Seresin. 

How did not put that together before? 

Declan stood up abruptly, assuming a salute stance. 

“I’m sorry to be disrespectful sir, I did not know you were THE Admiral Seresin.” 

“My father taught me better than that.”

“At ease son, no need for all of that.” Admiral Seresin chuckled

Declan dropped the salute but still remained standing in stance. 

“Did Astrid not tell you?”

“No sir, we did not speak too much about our families.” 

“Well if you’re really afraid of being disrespectful, kid, you gotta know that all of these people are decorated officers.” 

“Them right there are Captains Avalone, Lennox, Lee, and Bassett.” He said pointing to the men and woman that Astrid introduced as Uncles Billy, Brig, Logan, and Auntie Callie.

“Maverick was also captain before he retired.”

“Over there are Rear Admirals Floyd, Garcia, Finch, and Machado.” 

Uncle Bob, Uncle Mickey, Uncle Reuben and Uncle Javy. 

“Finally, Old Rooster and Phoenix over there. Vice Admiral Trace, and Admiral Bradshaw.”

“Holy Shit.” Declan gulped. 

“So you better treat our Astrid right, if you’re smart you can forsee how people with our experience can ruin your life, in more ways than one.” Admiral Seresin warned. 

“Understood sir.”

Declan shifted in his spot, desperate to change the subject from the possible harm that would befall him if he ever made the mistake of hurting his girlfriend. 

“So my father works under you, sir? Last I spoke to him he was stationed to the Pacific.”

“Yes, that’s where I just returned from. Your dad is still out there though.” 

“Yeah I figured, I reckon he would’ve called by now.” Declan tried to hide his disappointment. 

Jake read him easily however. He quickly remembered his absence from his daughter’s life earlier in her childhood. Immediately feeling sorry for the boy, he motioned for him to sit once again

“I get it, it's hard, I wasn’t around much for Astrid’s childhood, I was too focused on getting to.. Well here.” 

“Was it worth it sir?” 

“Not sure I can answer that, I missed a lot, but I was lucky enough to have someone who understood my ambitions.” 

“I don’t know how y’all did it sir, especially since you being the Commander of the Pacific fleet and Atty’s other dad also being an Admiral.” 

“And especially with the stigma you two had to face with the Navy.” 

“It was a little weird and difficult at first. But Astrid made it worth it. And Bradshaw has been a big help.”

“Well you two raised an amazing daughter. How long have you been together?” Declan inquired, knowing about the rampant homophobia that still unfortunately plagued the military branch. 

But seeing how well respected and high in rank the two men were he knew that couldn’t have been easy, but now they’re both in positions where no one would dare to criticize them.

“How long have we..? Wait. Do you think me and Bradshaw are..” Admiral Seresin broke out into boisterous laughter.

“Hey Rooster! Get over here!” Declan looked at the older man in confusion as the second Admiral made his way to the duo. 

“What’s up Bagman?” Rooster responded as he halted his jog. 

“Come and give me some sugar.” Jake chuckled as he brought Bradley into a tight embrace planting a wet kiss on his cheek.

Declan felt his face heat up at the PDA presented in front of him by his girlfriend’s fathers.

Bradley stumbled back after Jake released his hold, a look of amusement on his face. 

Hangman threw an arm around the other aviator. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but not sure how my wife is gonna feel about you planting one on me Bagman,” 

Rooster laughed.

Wife? Now Declan was even more confused than before. Astrid’s dad has a wife and is also with her other dad? Is the wife okay with this? Is the wife also with Commander Seresin?

Declan felt a migraine coming on from the heavy wheels spinning in his mind trying to piece together his girlfriend’s interesting family dynamic. 

“Nicholas Bradshaw! If you don’t stop running right now, you’re not getting any Ice cream!” 

Declan’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a woman that looked like a more mature, not necessarily older version of his girlfriend making her way down the deck, running after a little boy that looked like a miniature version of Admiral Bradshaw.

Is this the wife? She was very beautiful.  Admiral Bradshaw is a lucky man. 

Declan had so many questions. The boy he gathered was Astrid’s little brother. And then the woman , possibly her mom??? Declan just became more confused with every passing minute.

Both Admirals stared at the woman in adoration as she chased after the boy.

“But Momma, Uncle Jakey is here!” The boy ran into Admiral Seresin’s arms who picked him up with a chuckle. 

“No love for your dad buddy?” Rooster feigned hurt. 

“Uncle Jakey. Toy please.” 

“Ouch! Little man, and here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Jake answered also feigning hurt.

“Sweets! Come and meet Pixie’s boyfriend.”

“Sorry for messing with you Dec, you just made it too easy.” 

“Now who’s this?” The woman approached their chattering.

She had kind eyes and a beautiful smile. She was dressed in a sundress that almost mimicked the one his girlfriend was wearing except in an emerald color. 

“Declan, Ma’am nice to meet you.” Declan nervously held out hand to the woman who shook it gently.

“I’m Astrid’s mom, y/n. And you must be the boyfriend we’ve hardly heard anything about.”

That one annoying song that his sister used to sing non-stop, Stacy’s Mom he thinks it’s called, never made more sense to him than at that moment.

Don’t get him wrong, Declan loved Astrid, more than anything. But in some kind of alternate universe where they weren’t together and he didn’t know her and her entire family. He would proudly declare her a MILF, but at risk of pissing off his girlfriend, her grandpa, godmother, her large array of uncles and aunts, and her dads who also happened to be top ranking navy officers, he would never admit it to another soul.

“So where have you been hiding?” Astrid’s mom asked jokingly.

“Mom! Dad! Daddy!” Astrid shouted as she exited the house and jogged down to the outdoor furniture.

Astrid slid into the gap between Declan’s arm and torso, laying a hand on his chest.

“Stop giving him the third degree.” She glared at her parents. 

“Hey! I was just introducing myself to Declan here since you refused to give your poor mother anything.” Her mom pouted while poking Astrid on the tip of her nose. 

Astrid stuck a tongue out at the older woman.

“Yeah okay mom, stop acting like you didn’t grill me about Dec last night.” Pointing a finger at y/n.

“It’s not cute, mother.” 

“Your mother happens to be very cute.” Bradley wrapped an arm around the older woman planting a kiss on her forehead. 

Jake nodded in quiet agreement, but Declan noticed a glimpse of sadness behind his eyes. He wonders what’s that about.

“Ewww Mom and Dad, can you please not do that in front me and Dec.” Astrid exclaimed, further burying her face into the crook of Declan’s neck. 

“How come you two can have PDA and me and your dad can’t?” Her mom responded. 

“Because you’re old.” 

“Don’t listen to her Sweets, you’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Jake chuckled. 

“Atty!” A small voice originating from lower ground whined. 

“Oh her buddy!” Astrid kneeled down to her little brother’s height. 

“Did you have a good practice?” She asked grabbing Nick’s little body into her lap tickling his neck and making him laugh hysterically. 

“I want kiss!.” He shouted through his giggles.

“Anything for you Goosey!” Astrid covered her little brother’s face in kisses. 

“Momma too!” 

“Oh of course my little goose.” Y/n laughed as she kneeled down to the same level as her children. 

“What a lucky little dude.” Bradley smiled. 

The two other men chuckled watching the love fest before them. 

“Not to interrupt your little family time but since you were distracted Bradley, I took it upon myself to cook the steaks PROPERLY.” Maverick shouted across the backyard. 

“Come and get your steaks!” 

“Oh sweet, steak grandpa mav style is my favorite.” Astrid exclaimed picking up her little brother and making her way to the grill, Declan close in tow. 

“Yay steak!” Nick cheered

“Is it ‘Hurt Dad’s feelings day’, Little Chick?” Bradley groaned as he followed the rest of the group to the food. 

Jake hung back watching the sight before him. His daughter, so grown up, so beautiful, smart, and headstrong. Just like her mother. 

Jake thought back to Declan’s earlier question. Was it all worth it? Those 4 years where y/n and Astrid away was some of the loneliest of his life. He honestly took that time to take every deployment, work every detachment, and because Y/n needed time to think, he for that time being never felt guilty for his ambition.

.Y/n could never be malicious enough to keep him away from his daughter. She gave him every opportunity to be involved.  Of course, he visited his daughter as often as he could. But it definitely was not often enough. His work was all he had, he thought, so he threw himself into it completely. Up to the point where he finally surpassed Rooster. 

When those four years were up it was clear where his priorities lied, and in a way he understood what Y/N said before. He was selfish for making her take a back seat to it for so long, when she and their daughter deserved so much more than that. 

It honestly didn’t surprise him when Y/N chose Bradshaw in the end, he was there for Y/N and for Astrid when he couldn’t. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. He definitely had some dark years after that. Years where he would go months into his work, not bothering to keep in touch with his ex-wife and daughter. 

No one heard from his for an entire year after he caught wind of their wedding and Bradshaw legally adopting his daughter. 

All he had was his career, his ambitions, it was the only thing keeping him going. He thought that’s all he needed. It should have been enough. His lifelong longing should it been quenched when he was promoted to Admiral, a full 4 years before Bradshaw. He finally won. 

But did he really? 

He threw himself into a drunken stupor at the Hard Deck, ‘happily’ celebrating his promotion. Alone. Completely Alone. 

But Y/N, sweet and strong Y/N, walked into the bar. And dragged him to his feet pulling him to his senses. 

“I gave you space all these years Jake because I thought it was what you needed. I know the news about me and Bradley was not going to bve easy for you so I stayed away, I didn’t want you to think we were rubbing it in your face. I didn’t say anything when you went years making Astrid feel like she didn’t have a father, Bradley stepped in because that is the type of man he is and he loves her. But that deosn’t change the fact that you’re her father, she still looks for you every birthday, checks the news to make sure nothing bad has happened to you, still tears up whenever she sees or hears Pixie Sticks. We may have not worked out Jake, but that doesn’t mean you abandon her.” Jake hadn’t seen so much pain in your eyes since that final night before you left. 

“She doesn’t want to see me. You left me.”

“Exactly. I left you Jake. Your daughter didn’t.” 

“ And all she wants now is you to show up and apologize for the years you missed and eat the cake she baked for you for your promotion, instead of sitting here wasting away alone”

“She baked me a cake?” Jake asked his eyes filled with tears and hope for the first time in over 7 years. 

“Yeah she did. Even wrote “Congrats Daddy” on it with light green frosting to match your eyes.”

You nodded. 

“Okay, take me to see Pixie.” He smiled. 

That was 5 odd or so years ago. It took a lot of work but through endless groveling, apologies, and carefully curated gifts. Rooster finally forgave him. 

Just kidding, Astrid forgave him. Of course she says that there was no forgiving needed to be done in the first place, the young girl knew that her dad had things to work out on his own before he was ready to come home to her. But Hangman knew better and he made sure to make up for the 7 years of missed birthdays, holidays, and just regular Daddy-Daughter time, and as an admiral he had more leeway to pick his schedule and deployments. 

Things with Rooster also got better, despite his years of resentment towards the man, he definitely appreciated the care that he gave you and your daughter in his absence (even if he didn’t appreciate the way it begun). After a couple years of awkwardness where the two men couldn’t be left alone in a room together, they found a mutual respect and admiration for both of their work and dedication to the Navy. 

The two were definitely more alike than they realized, it just took an intense rivalry, a couple of punches thrown, a few black eyes, a pair of bruised jaws, a divorce, a wedding and adoption, and a couple of years of close proximity to unlock.

From there bloomed a friendship that can’t be described by anything other than a total “bromance”.

As he stood in the yard contemplating his journey to that moment, he was pulled out of his thoughts by your hand caressing his cheek. 

“How you doing Zuko?” You smiled at him with bright eyes. 

“I’m doing good Sweets.” 

“Just thinking about how fast time has passed.” He explained.

“It has been a wild ride hasn’t it?” You responded, dropping your hand, placing it back to your side. 

Jake felt cold from the removal of your hand, his body still searching for your warth even after all these years. He tried to hide his disappointment from his face but you knew him better than that. 

“You know I will always love you, right Jake?” You smiled at him sympathetically. 

“We’ve been through so much together, and even though it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine, I will be eternally grateful to you.” 

“You gave me her.” Your eyes twinkled looking at Astrid. 

“And you know I will never get over you right?” Jake responded, his voice thick with melancholy. 

“Maybe…” You began.

“But I hope someday you will. Our love, our connection was so filled with fight and fire, and I loved it… I loved you. But after all of that, we were just left with ashes.” You looked at him, your smile bittersweet. 

“You taught me how to love Jake, and loving you, prepared me to love him.” You gestured to Bradshaw. 

“To love them.” 

You looked lovingly at your family, your friends, your husband, your children. 

“Promise me Jake, that when the time comes. You will take that love, the love you had for me, the love we shared, and you will use it to love someone who deserves it.”

“Because you deserve someone amazing, someone who will love better than I ever did.” 

You walked backwards towards the others, flashing him that same smile that started all of this, before turning around and walking away. 

“Okay.” He smiled to himself, joining the rest of the party. 

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[ilguna]

☼ beard (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; knowing that you've been at home sick, Finnick tries to cheer you up when he comes back.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.4k

–

When Finnick left, he told you not to miss him too much while he was gone, and to be careful because there wasn’t going to be anyone to help you. At the time, you thought he was trying to be cheeky, because he knows how you feel about being with him all hours of the day. If you can be, you’re attached at the hip from sun up to sun down. You like his company.

He was mocking you, and trying to be sweet after to make up for it and to distract you from thinking about it. You caught it, of course, and halfway laughed at his stupid joke to make him feel better so he wouldn’t be hung up on your silence for the entirety of his trip.

It didn’t matter, anyway, because you were confident in your ability to entertain yourself for a couple weeks while he mentored in the Capitol. He hasn’t done that without you in a few years, it was weird watching Mags get taken away by that train again. You guys really thought she was going to retire for good.

While you had to figure out a way to keep yourself busy, you had to be mindful about your healing body, which was gravely sick a few days before he said goodbye. If it was up to him, he would’ve sent one of the other guy victors to the Capitol for him so that he would’ve been able to stay with you. He knew better than to do that, though, because Coriolanus would’ve been pissed.

He was genuinely worried before he left, and you did all you could to reassure him that you’d be just fine.

That first week wasn’t so bad, you did some cleaning around the house, being careful about inhaling cleaning chemicals so that you wouldn’t pass out. You dusted, wiped down everything starting with the top and moving down to the bottom. And once the house was cleaned, you took a breather for a few days.

You read a book, a small one that you finished the same day. And then you started a thicker one, and finished it the following day. You decided after that you wanted to be more productive with your free time, because you don’t get much of it often. 

So, you went ahead and went back to cleaning. You cleared out some of the junk from the pantry and most of what was in the closets, which has given you a lot more space to work with. You know that Finnick won’t notice any of those shirts are missing, much less the pants he wears when there’s nothing else clean that he would prefer over them.

You washed all the sheets, blankets and pillow covers in the house, which does include the guest bedroom. You hated the smell, that led you to lighting several candles, hoping to make the house smell good, and you blew them all out when the flame was getting dangerously tall.

When you were done with that, you bought fresh flowers to put around the house to brighten up the space. That same night, you went to stargaze outside, which was underwhelming and incredibly boring. You did, however, enjoy laying on the front lawn and feeling the warmth of the breeze on your skin.

You did this all within the first week and a half of him being gone. They were all tasks that you’d been putting off for months because you didn’t have the energy to go and do it all. And you managed to knock it out in a week and a half because you had to find something to do.

Since, you’ve done nothing but sit around the house and cook for yourself when you’re hungry. There really is fuck all to do when Finnick’s not here. You’re so used to following him around from place to place, talking to him about whatever comes to your mind, or listening to him babble about his latest project.

You thought that you’d never say this, but you might like mentoring a lot more than you thought you did. Solely because there’s so much to do in such a short time span. You’ve had your schedule so jam-packed at times, that you don’t have time to eat, much less take bathroom breaks because you’re so behind.

It hurts to send teenagers inside of an arena, of course, but there’s nothing like pulling every string available to help the tribute inside. And when that’s exhausted, there’s plenty to do in the city itself. It doesn’t have to be with just Finnick, either. You go out with the stylists and your fellow mentors all the time when Finnick’s too busy to go, or his night is occupied by someone else.

The day’s never the same without him here, though. Today’s the day he finally comes back from the Capitol. While other mentors get sent home as soon as their tributes die, he’s forced to stay until the Games are over to make sure that all of Coriolanus’ clients are fulfilled the way he wants them to be.

He makes you sick.

“(Y/n)!” You can hear your name shouted from downstairs. 

With your eyes closed, you can picture Finnick coming in the front door, back from his trip. He has a habit of setting his bag on the couch, and he likes to wear his favorite shirt and pair of jeans that he makes sure are clean for his trip every year. Like clockwork.

“I’m up here!” You shout back.

You don’t move from where you lay in the middle of the bed, on top of the blankets. You were about to take a nap in the patch of sunlight streaming through the window, since the warmth was enough. If he’s here though, then the extra sleep will have to wait until you’ve caught up.

You can hear his shoes hitting the hardwood flooring on the way up the stairs. You open your eyes now, rolling your head to the side so that you can see Finnick when he comes through the door. You have the door open slightly, because there’s no point in shutting it all the way anymore.

You can see him appear through the crack, standing outside of it for a second.

“Are your eyes open?” He asks.

“Yup.” You squint, trying to see him better. He’s standing in the shadow perfectly, it’s blocking out his face.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Ready for what?” You ask, face twisting, “Why are you being weird?”

He pushes the door open, it creaks the entire time. He’s still hidden behind the doorway, you can’t see him very well. You watch as he moves over, coming through so that you can see him better.

“Oh my god.” You laugh, struggling to push yourself to sit upright, “What the fuck is on your face?”

Your wonderful husband, who never breaks his habits unless he’s forced to, or it’s a dare that he can’t say no to, is showing you something that you thought that you’d never get to see in your life.

He’s grown a beard.

“Holy shit.” You laugh, sliding out of bed, “You grew this while you were gone?”

“No, I was working on it before I left, remember? I said I was going to shave later on the train?” He laughs, running his fingers through it.

You vaguely recall that conversation. You’ve seen him with stubble plenty of times, he’s lazy when it comes to shaving it, but he’s never gone this far before.

You reach to touch it, cupping his face. The hairs tickle at your palms and your wrists, curling around your fingers slightly. “You hate the feeling of having a beard.”

“I know.” He grabs your wrists, rubbing his thumbs over your arms, “I just thought that you’d like to see it.”

“It’s not going to last long so I’ve got to enjoy it while I have it.” You sputter out another laugh, “At least kiss me so I can know how it feels against my face.”

Finnick shakes his head, “You’re clearly feeling better.”

“Now that you’re here.” You kiss him.

[mchlgayser]

more w Ney!!

🍶𓂃⭑ᜊ: INJURIES ft neymar jr

🍶𓂃⭑ᜊ an: HELLO! Tbh I need a specific idea but I think I can work out with a drabble ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა Hope you like this! If you wanted to request again next time, I hope you can sum up with ideas or storyline plot!! Hope you guys enjoy mwahh

🍶𓂃⭑ᜊ content warning: argument and vulgar language

It was truly depressing for you to hear that your boyfriend won't be participating in two of his games because of his ankle injury. Right now, his team physiotherapist is checking on him for any improvement and you waited outside for them.

He finally got out with a crane under one arm to support him 'He was okay, but like I informed you before he won't be able to play until his two next games.' You nodded, hand reaching out for him to hold which he hesitantly did.

The two of you walk to the entrance into his car 'Here let me--' He accidentally pushed your hands away and sough 'I got it.' You shake your head at his usual demeanor and get to the other side and started the engine as it began rumbling.

-

The ride was quiet, awfully quiet. The only sound heard was the faint radio background 'What happened with your treatment?' You started, hands digging into the steel. For a moment, he was silent '...It was fine..' You hum

Once you reach your home, you jog to the other side to get to him but he's already on his way out 'Y/n stop it, I can do it fine without you.' He exclaims already getting angry 'I just wanted to help...' You murmur, hands trying to hold down to his but he withdrew his hands 'For goodness sake--' Just then he was about to fall but you catch him in time 'Be careful Ney.' You pleaded, eyes hazy and get into the house, leaving him.

He was devastated, at you, at himself and his condition. He went inside seconds later to see you sitting on the couch, head down and your hands gripping your hair 'Oh c'mon, it's not like you are the one with the injury' He remarked with a scoff, you turn your head over to him 'What is it? What's your problem?' You bite back getting up from the couch to leave to your room 'You know I'm actually tired of you trying to rub off shit on me, you know I won't getting better anytime soon? Stop pretending when you know damn well I won't be functioning for a while.' He stated, a vein appearing on the corner of his temple 'I'm certain you are on period because you are so fucking sensitive over something small! I'm fucking tired of your shit, you never know how to to fucking appreciate me when all I'm doing is to make you feel okay, I fucking brought you to your ankle injury appointments! The one who fucking cleaned up for you, cooked for you, bathe you but all you've done is being nothing but an asshole! Can I not be sad for my boyfriend? Can't I feel sorry for him when I know damn well how he's been working his ass hard to get here?!' You yelled at him, eyes burning with warm tears

'I won't leave you because I knew deep down you still need me, even though it'll probably take you a hundred years to admit that but the second you are finally able to accept the fact that you've been nothing but shitty to me these days then you know I won't be anywhere but the room.' You finished up and tread upstairs hurriedly. He hoists a heavy sigh trying his best to sit down feeling numb over his calves.

But instead, he tripped clashing onto the table, his hands accidentally engage with the glass ashtray on the table smashing it everywhere. His elbow is a bleeding a bit and forms a bruise but it wasn't severe. You on the hand, the next wink you heard the sound you rush downstairs seeing Ney in a such terrible state

His face scrunched in both pain and anger, he was trying to stand but to no avail, you stood there waiting, and waiting 'Can you... Please help me..?' He finally asked, head-turning over you with a small lazy smile, you dash to pick him up 'Sit here, I'm gonna go get the aid kit.'

You placed the antiseptic over his elbow, the cotton press again into his wound which make him violently hiss 'That hurts like a bitch!' He cursed, and you soothe him down by subconsciously stroking his knuckles 'There!

You wanted to leave again but he held you back 'I just wanna say that I'm sorry, deeply am. I get it, I've been nothing but shitty to you and I apologize because of that. I don't wanna repeat the same mistake. I'll support you equally just like you did right now, taking care of me and stuff. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I swear, I will try my best to stay positive during my hiatus hoping I could go back and play with my teammates.' He whispered, wavering a sense inside of you making you badly want to cry.

You sat beside him and once again place your hand on top of his. 'I will be here for you alright? We are in this, together and forever.'

[antianakin]

I think what I'm starting to realize is that Darth Vader is redeemable.

Anakin Skywalker is not.

Darth Vader, the guy we're introduced to in the Original Trilogy, who we don't really know anything about, who Obi-Wan remembers fondly even as we know he's gone bad, who ISN'T associated with the end of the Jedi. Erase all the context of what we now know about Anakin Skywalker, his relationships with the Jedi, his actions on Tatooine, the way he treats Padme, his relationships with the clones, his relationship with Ahsoka, all of that. Erase it all.

All we have is Darth Vader. A guy whose worst acts are honestly relatively small and who is almost always up against a bigger villain. It's Tarkin who technically orders the destruction of Alderaan. And Tarkin dies at the end. By ESB, we start seeing the Empire and Vader's relationship to Luke is revealed, someone we love, someone we want the best for. So when you get to ROTJ and Luke says he might still have good in him, minutes before we meet the Emperor himself in person, it's not that hard to believe him. It's not that hard to believe that one last act of kindness is all it takes to absolve him.

Put everything else aside, JUST looking at the Original Trilogy, Vader's.... not THAT bad. His redemption works fine.

But Anakin Skywalker? Anakin Skywalker's been killing babies since he was 19 years old and never stopped. Anakin Skywalker betrayed 10,000 people who considered him family overnight. Anakin Skywalker betrayed several million good men into being brainwashed and turned into betrayers themselves. Anakin Skywalker betrayed the Republic he served, and the wife he did it all for.

You don't come back from that. You just don't.

Darth Vader without Anakin Skywalker's story was redeemable.

NOTHING Darth Vader ever does in the original trilogy is at the level of what we see Anakin Skywalker do over the course of the prequel trilogy and The Clone Wars show. Nothing. Nothing comes close except Alderaan and that's nowhere near as personal or direct as what he does to the Jedi and the Clones. It's also not a betrayal of any kind.

Anakin Skywalker's not redeemable. What he did can't be undone or fixed. There's no amends he can make because the people he'd need to make amends TO are all dead. Because of him. There's nothing left to BE redeemed.

And most of us CAN'T divorce Darth Vader from Anakin Skywalker anymore, you're not really meant to. They usually WANT you to remember Anakin Skywalker when they bring in Darth Vader to stories these days. Which makes that last moment of ROTJ just feel... so unearned now. So frustrating. Because the more we get to see, the more we're forced to remember everything Anakin Skywalker's done over the course of his life, the less his redemption works. Because the more we see, the more atrocities are revealed. More massacres, more murders, more planets and people eradicated from the galaxy forever. At what point does it become impossible to truly be redeemed for everything you've done? At what point is it impossible to ACTUALLY go back?

And it doesn't matter which version of the force ghost you get, either. If it's the older version, then Anakin gets to present himself as if he'd never done those things. If it's the younger version, then Anakin gets to present himself ONLY before he did some of his worst acts (although he's still a baby killer, let's not forget, so that's... suspect). Either way, the things he's done get to be forgotten. They no longer matter. Those people he killed, the people he betrayed, who will never be the same as they were. The galaxy he helped bring to its knees over and over again, that will take decades AT LEAST to recover from what he did to it, can't forget. But he gets to. He gets to forget.

And I don't find that very satisfying anymore.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Good things come...

AN: The lovely @mrsmischief209 sent me a gif of Billy Russo looking fine and basically gave me either canon adjacent or Professor AU. I’ve gone with the latter and I hope you enjoy.

Beta’d by @lunarbuck 

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board by me

Master list

Summary: Yesterday was your final exam, and today you were planning to relax and recover. What you didn’t expect, though, is to find your very hot History professor standing at your door.

Relationship: Professor Billy Russo x College Student Reader

Word Count: 2k

CW: Power imbalance (sort of), Age gap (reader early 20’s, Billy late 30’s, kissing and heavy petting, implied smut, pet names.

Chill.

Chill!

If you told it to yourself enough times, you might start to listen. You needed to get your beating heart and rapid breath under control before he noticed. He being your history professor, or rather, as of yesterday, your ex-history professor, who was currently standing at the door to your small, cluttered studio apartment, flashing you that disarming smile of his.

“Umm, Professor Russo. How can I help you?” You were standing behind your open door, head poked around the side of it, acutely aware that, because you hadn’t been expecting anyone to visit you the day after your final exam, you were severely underdressed. As in sleep t-shirt and panties only. No pants. No bra.

“Hey there! I just popped by to see how you were doing. See if you've recovered from yesterday. Can I…err?” He gesticulated with his hand to the part of your apartment he could see between the door and the door frame.

“Oh, yes. Umm. Just give me a moment.” You shut the door and flew into panic mode.

You ran towards your bed, but not without first detouring past the sofa to pick up your discarded clothes, including one of your bras, that were littered over it. You skidded in your socked feet on the wooden floor as you dumped your armful on the counterpane. You dug through the heap and dragged the yoga pants you found up your legs, hopping from foot to foot. Padding through to your tiny bathroom, you pulled your sleep-tee off, and quickly gave yourself a once over with a damp washcloth, while scrubbing your teeth. Jogging back through your wrestled with the closest bra and threw a clean t-shirt over your head and pulled the privacy curtain around the bed to hide the worst of your housekeeping fail. It wasn’t the most well put together outfit, but at least you were decent.

Heading back to your door, you hooked your fingers through the parade of dirty mugs on the coffee table and dumped them in your sink. You couldn’t do much about the pile of takeout containers stacked by the trash can. 

You opened the door again, a bright smile plastered on your face and were met with Professor Russo’s mischievous, boyish grin.

You’d been struck by him at your very first History of Warfare lecture. The former soldier turned college professor exuded boyish charm with his sparkling eyes and knowing smirk. You’d had the hots for him the last three years, hanging on his every word and feeling your face heat with embarrassment every time he asked you a question or praised you in front of the rest of the class. You thought you’d done a good job of hiding it though, or rather, you hoped you had.

Holding the door wide, you gestured for him to enter. With his hands in his pockets, he made it to your couch in four long-legged strides and settled onto it like he belonged there. Which was stupid, because, firstly, it was a very ratty couch, covered by a slightly less ratty throw rug you’d picked up at the thrift store, and two, he was your professor. Ex-professor. Whatever. At least he was dressed down today, in a crew neck knitted sweater and jeans. If he’d been wearing one of his suits, you might have expired on the spot.

“Can I get you a drink, Professor.”

The smile on his face didn’t waver.

“Just some water would be fine.”

You moved around your small kitchenette inelegantly, trying to find one of your ‘good’ glasses and before realising you’d have to wash one up. You did so briskly, popping the kettle on the stove as the faucet ran so you could make yourself a cup of chamomile. You felt in need of its soothing effects.

You decanted some bottled water from your fridge into the now clean glass, poured boiling water over the teabag in your favourite mug and nervously made your way back over to the sofa. The entire time it had seemed that Professor Russo was observing you with mild amusement. Placing your mug on the coffee table, you passed him his glass and then curled up on the opposite end of your sofa. He was twisted in his seat, so he could see you, right foot resting on his left knee and his left arm running along the back of the couch. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you from over the rim of the glass as he took a sip. 

“So… Professor. You just doing the rounds and checking on everyone?”

“Something like that, yes. I had to check that my best student was doing okay.” You felt the heat crawling up your face at his compliment, and you distracted yourself by leaning forward and snagging your mug of tea from the table.

“Yes. I’m fine. That last question had me stumped for a bit, but hopefully I managed to get the important points down on the paper. We’ll find out in a few weeks, I suppose.”

“I have no doubt that you expressed yourself most eloquently.”

You took a sip of your tea as he finished his water and placed his glass on the coffee table. Then, to your surprise and confusion, he plucked the mug from your fingers, put it down, then shifted closer, taking your hands in his. You froze, eyes wide and gaze locked on where his long fingers caressed your wrists.

“P-Professor?” How you managed to even say anything astounded you.

“Please, sweetheart. I’m not your professor any more, am I? My name’s Billy. Do you think you could call me that?”

Sweetheart? Oh! That pet name did things to you.

“Umm, okay. Billy. Erm, what are you doing?”

As you said his name his eyes closed, his lashes kissing his cheeks, and a tremor ran through him, before he opened his eyes again to look at you.

“I really hope that I’m not misreading this, but I couldn’t go a day more without saying something. I like you, my little Sunbeam. I like the way you turned up on your first day, full of enthusiasm, smiling, interested. I like the way that you always had spare pens for anyone who needed, and that you never, ever turned up without that extra large ‘to go’ cup. I like how you’re kind, and smart, and funny. I like how you duck your head when you’re embarrassed by my praise, just like you’re doing now. My ray of sunshine.”

One of his hands came up, the pointer finger catching under your chin and untucking your head so you had no choice but to look him in the eyes again.

“I like you a lot, and I’m wondering if I could kiss you?”

“If you could… what? Me?”  

This wasn’t making sense. You? He liked you? You had to be dreaming, right? You must have tripped on your rug going to open your door hitting your head on the coffee table, and this was all some figment of your now damaged mind. It had to be. Because otherwise, Professor Russo - Billy - was currently sitting on your sofa asking to kiss you, and that couldn’t be what was actually happening.

A chuckle broke through your internal crisis.

“Earth to Sunbeam? Have I broken you, sweetheart? And there I was thinking that I hadn’t done a good enough job of hiding how I felt.”

“I - I..” You shook your head and couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that made its way up your throat. You pulled your hands from his and fanned your face, uncaring of the embarrassment now, because it couldn’t get any worse. “Okay. Umm, well. I’m sorry. I’d like to say I’m normally more put together than this, and that you caught me off guard, but… umm… surprise, I’m always this much of a disaster.”

He laughed again.

“You’re not a disaster.”

“You caught on to the fact that I have the hots for you, but I had no idea you liked me back.”

His smile was wide and full of amused affection as he shuffled a bit closer.

“I’ve just had more experience hiding it than you. But you’ve not answered my question? Please, can I kiss you?”

The arm that he had along the back of your couch was only inches away from embracing your shoulders, his other hand so close to touching your leg. He was leaning forwards and his face, his lips were so close, so tempting. Why were you so worried? You liked him, he liked you, and as of yesterday, he was no longer your teacher. There was nothing wrong here, so you just had to bite the bullet.

“Yes…”

You breathed out the word on a sigh, and although quiet, it was still the consent he obviously required from you.

His lips descended onto yours, as your hands found his sweater, your fingers curling into the soft fabric and using it like an anchor before you were buffeted away on waves of sensation. Yes, Billy’s lips were soft, but his kiss was firm, with no hesitation. It was a claiming, a brand. He was etching himself on your body with only the smallest touch. It was so much more than you’d ever imagined in your private moments and yet it wasn’t enough.

Whether it was your unintentional whimper, or the way you moved closer, your fingers tightening even more on his sweater that let him know, but Billy picked up on your need, leaning over you, pressing your body into the couch as he cupped your face and deepened the kiss. He tasted your mouth and swallowed your noises of pleasure, and your hips pressed up against his.

He ripped his mouth away, looking down at you with a feral expression on his face. You reached up with a hand to brush a lock of his brown hair away from his eyes, smiling at him, like a lamb who has no idea they are being led to slaughter. But you did know, and you couldn’t wait for what was to come.

“My Sunny-girl…”

His head lowered once more, but fell to your neck, licking and sucking over your pulse point. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, not knowing whether to hold him closer or push him away. His own hands slid down your torso, toying with the hem of your t-shirt, until you arched up again and gave him verbal permission to continue.

“Please. I want you to touch me.” 

Billy groaned into your skin as he pushed up the well-worn cotton, baring your stomach and your bra-covered breasts to his eyes and questing fingers. Both traced over your skin, taking in every swell, every scar, every mark. 

“I knew you’d be beautiful.” His thumb brushed over one cup of your plain, grey bra, watching with interest as your nipple hardened, before doing the same to the other one. You squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, caught between wanting to hide and wanting to bare yourself to him further.

“Professor…Billy…”

“Shh.Shh. I know, darling. I know. I want it too.”

He leant back, and in one motion pulled his sweater over his head, and you marvelled at his sculpted chest. You reached out a tentative hand, skimming it over his pecs, his dusky nipples and towards his abs and the trail of hair that led down under his jeans. He watched you explore and, emboldened, you sat back up, pulling your t-shirt free and discarding your bra. You stood and he followed suit, arching an eyebrow at you.

You smiled, looping your fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, and backed towards the curtain shrouding your bed, drawing him along.

“Just pretend you don’t see the clutter, okay?”

“Sunny, I’m not gonna see anything except you…”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @luxeavenger @yarnforbrains @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @writing-for-marvel

[motomamita]

Blood, Sweat and Ice.

Part. 2

Pairing: Dark!Eddie Munson x Female!IceSkater!Reader

Summary: Before finishing her off, eddie is determined to fuck her one way or another, even if he has to fake his identity to get it done.

Warnings: smut, +18, false identity, unprotected sex, creampie, mask sex, mentions of drugs, alchohol and blood, violence, idk sis.

A/N: Somewhat inspired by the Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan scandal. Ofc, this is more dark.

Do not translate or copy this!

With a joint dangling from his fingers and several litres of alcohol inside of him, Eddie Munson thought his afternoon was going to end the same as all the previous ones: with him sleeping on the bathroom floor, a puddle of vomit around him and his album favorite playing all the way in the background. However, Nancy Wheeler knocked on his door with a favor she needed from him.

"I just need it to be a scare, like an warning that makes her miss the competition this Saturday." The girl clasped her hands in front of her chest, as if she were praying. "Please, Eddie! I'll pay you a good dough!"

Nancy Wheeler has been ice skating since she was 8 years old. She was good, she tried hard and, just like in school, she was diligent. However, that was not enough to guarantee a place in the competition that would take place that weekend. It wasn't if she had to compete against that girl.

"What do you mean 'a little warning'?" Eddie leaned against the old refrigerator and took a drag on his joint before speaking again. "Do you want me to send her a threatening email? To bug the wheels on her bike? To shit on her doorstep and leave a sign saying 'don't you dare enter the competition, bitch'?"

"Yeah, it could be something like that. As long as it ensures it doesn't steal my first place, it's fine." The calmer Wheeler spoke "Please, Eddie. I know you've done worse in the past, Mike told me about it."

And yes, he had.

Alcohol and drug abuse, along with the fact that he dropped out of high school, had given Eddie a need for constant adrenaline. That adrenaline was obtained by carrying out unlawful and unethical acts. He first started stealing cars that were staying late in the Starmall parking lot. When he didn't get something of value, he had fun breaking the windows and scratching the doors. Then he went on to steal inside houses and spend hours hiding inside them even with their owners going about their daily lives. That unleashed in Eddie the interest to watch people closely without them knowing it. It was amazing how much one could find out about a person just by following him for a couple of hours in his day.

Last but not least illegal were street fights. Eddie had become addicted to them. When he felt boredom eat him up, he'd grab his truck, a couple of beers, and wait outside the town's strip club for some old or young man who wanted to fight him. As the weeks passed, Eddie stopped having opponents and that led him to look for other ways to have fun. He waited for his, now, victims in some dark alley and silently pounced on them. In a matter of minutes he left them almost dying in a pool of blood until some citizen found them the next day. Sometimes he used a weapon like a baseball bat or a heavy wrench that was used to repair his truck, other times he only used his hands.

Soon those acts alerted the entire town to the existence of an individual who beat his victims almost to death. Nobody knew who it was, just a few people, like Mike Wheeler. For that very reason, he wasn't surprised when Nancy visited him days ago in his trailer with a tempting offer, and not just for the money.

As he drove downtown to the ice skating rink that Thursday, Eddie Munson thought about his next victim. He knew quite a bit about her, all kinds of information he could get in a whole day of following her around. He knew her hours, where she lived, who she was dating and her weaknesses that would serve him for his 'mission'.

She was the only child of a middle-class family. Her parents moved to Hawkins when the little girl was 6 years old and continued to live there, with no plans to leave. Her parents both work at the mayor's office in not so high positions but enough to be able to travel every summer to Houston, where she was from. She had practiced ice skating since she was 4 in almost professional rinks, which favored her compared to her other opponents in Hawkins who had to settle for their most basic rinks. She was an excellent skater by nature, Eddie could see as he watched her skate from a dark corner of the place.

From the way her coach gave her instructions, he assumed that this routine full of jumps and somersaults was the one she was going to present on Saturday in front of the judges. Nancy Wheeler definitely had no chance against her.

He stayed until she was the last to leave the track. By that time, the other girls had already left several minutes ago, leaving his target alone for a few minutes on the track.

Walking out, Eddie caught a keen eye of the conversation she and her coach were having as she walked to the locker room. She planned to stay the next day, Friday, a few more minutes on the track to prepare as much as possible for the big day. Her coach, a woman with curly hair and brown skin, agreed with her decision but informed her that she would train alone because she had paperwork to do. They talked a bit about topics not very relevant to him and then they said goodbye. Eddie a few meters behind the coach and prepared to smoke in one of the seats outside the place while he saw how the woman got into her car and headed home.

After 25 minutes counted by the clock, she left the place with her wet hair and her heavy bag. The instant she stepped into the parking lot, a blue Camaro pulled out of the parking lot and came up to where she was standing. Billy Hargrove. Eddie laughed bitterly. She and Billy had been dating for a few months. It was not known if they were already a couple but evidently something was going on between them and it was very intense. They were like 'Beauty and the Beast'. She was a flower, so delicate and fragile, while Billy was anything close to a boundless animal.

Billy grabbed her bag and put it in the trunk and then opened the passenger door for her, like a real gentleman. The couple avoided all physical contact until they reached the lovers' lake, where the show for Eddie began several meters away.

As the temperature rose in the blue Camaro, so did Eddie's truck, who was not only seized by fever but also by jealousy. It had been weeks since he had been with a woman intimately, and years since he had fallen in love with one. Of the girls he had met in high school none had managed to capture his attention, not even Chrissy Cunningham who on more than one occasion had tried to reach more with him. Getting so involved in that skater's life had awakened such a strong desire within him, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to feel her the way Hargrove was doing right now. The memory that he had to hurt her at some point crossed his mind and it made him a little sad. However, his own body called his attention to the growing problem forming in his pants and he had to take charge.

...

That Friday he arrived at the track around sunset and stayed in his truck for a couple of minutes. Soon, the same people who had been yesterday were now leaving the place with their bags in the direction of their cars. He waited a few minutes before getting out of his truck and stealthily entering the area. Luckily for him, despite wearing long hair and unusual clothes, Eddie had always managed to go unnoticed everywhere. That served as an advantage in situations like this.

From a distance he saw her on the track, alone and without the slightest idea that he had been watching her for minutes. She was wearing a light green sweater and black leggings that accentuated her figure. Her white skates kicked up the ice with every hop and turn she took. Eddie smiled seeing her so focused on her routine, as if that were the only important thing in the world.

He walked to one of the vending machines when he noticed how she left the track and collected her things with the intention of going to the locker room. Eddie lowered his gaze and counted 3 times the few coins that lay in the palm of his hand, acting disinterested when she passed behind him and was lost among the aisles. He put two coins in the machine and took out a Dr. Pepper which he drank carefully as he looked around. He was practically alone in the place, him and her. The manager who closed the track was now up on the machine that cleaned the track and which in turn made an annoying and loud noise. It was perfect to carry out his mission. No one was going to hear her scream.

Eddie tossed the can into a nearby trash can and walked purposefully toward the women's locker room. The sound of water falling from the shower led him through the wide space to the area where she was. Eddie stood in the middle of the hallway, motionless until the sound of the water stopped completely. Delicately, he took out a ski mask that he kept in one of the pockets of his jacket and put it on, hiding his characteristic long hair and revealing only his lips and eyes.

She wrapped herself in her towel and got out of the shower. A scream escaped her throat at seeing him there, standing with his face covered and staring at her. The shock lasted a few seconds, seconds in which she hugged her towel even more and looked around in search of something or someone that would help her. Eddie remained silent, forcing her to speak for the first time.

"What... what do you want?" She asked, not quite sure that he would answer her. "Please don't do anything to me." She whispered taking a few small steps back and walking to her clothes on a bench.

Eddie didn't answer and watched her movements carefully in case she tried to run away, although he was going to catch her anyway before she went out the door.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Unanswered. "Who you are?" Unanswered. "Billy?"

Bingo. She had fallen into his trap.

"Billy, this is not funny. Stop right now." She asked a little less upset but still with her agitated voice.

Eddie had discovered more about the couple than he would have imagined. He knew that her parents didn't want Billy and that's why they saw each other in the lake of lovers after each practice. She knew that Billy was annoyed when she drenched the seats of his Camaro with her wet hair and that's why he placed a towel on the seatback before looking for her. As he also knew how much she liked him to fuck her with a ski mask he had under the seat of his car.

The place wasn't fully lit and Eddie had taken it upon himself to dress in the most similar way to Billy's. So he could easily fool her.

"Didn't you hear me? Wait for me in the parking lot." She removed the towel from her, exposing her body.

Eddie swallowed hard and carefully admired the body of the naked girl in front of him. Now the distance between them was shorter and that made it possible for him to memorize every curve of her body. Soon his member woke up and he knew he had to act fast before someone discovered them.

He approached and hugged her from behind, placing his hands on her stomach, caressing her wet skin. He brought his nose to her hair and discreetly sniffed at her hair and the sweet shampoo she had used minutes before.

"Billy, stop!" She spoke now laughing when Eddie's hands tightened on her hips, digging his fingertips into her skin. "Do you really want to do this now? Here?" she asked as she felt his hard erection against her bare ass.

She turned to look at him, not closing her distance. Eddie nodded and prayed to all the saints that she wouldn't notice the chocolate color of his eyes, very different from Billy's blue. The girl let out a loud sigh and looked at the clock hanging on one of the walls.

"Okay, we have some time."

Eddie didn't wait any longer and pushed her slightly against the wall causing her to let out a moan almost in surprise at the abrupt movement. He knelt in front of her and brought one of her legs up to his shoulder, leaving her pussy available to him. Without thinking twice, he brought his mouth to her clitoris, sucking lightly on it and then massaging it with his tongue. She moaned loudly and then covered her mouth with her hand, she didn't want them to be found out. With his hands he massaged her thighs, supporting her from the way her legs trembled.

"Shit, Billy..."

Gradually, his ski mask began to soak with her fluids, impregnating her sweet taste and aroma into the fabric. Eddie went from the clit to her entry which was already fully weat. He licked her with his tongue, collecting all the fluid and bringing another wave of pleasure to the girl.

He glanced at the clock and knew he had to hurry. As much as he would have loved to continue savoring her, he wanted to feel her even more. He quickly got up from the ground and she had to grab the wall to keep from falling from how weak her legs were. She tried to kiss him but Eddie dodged her, avoiding any contact that would give him away.

"Baby, let me feel you..." she begged with her breath coming fast.

Hearing her, Eddie whispered a 'shit' only audible to him, he was too hot. He approached her again, grabbed her by the thighs and supported her again against the cold wall. For her part, she began to unbutton his pants and lowered the same along with his boxers, releasing his hard cock. Eddie rushed into her before she realized it wasn't Billy. She moaned again when Eddie's member mercilessly entered her and began to move at an accelerated pace. The girl tried to kiss him again but this time Eddie had to place one of his hands on her cheek, moving her head to the side and avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

Eddie's gaze was now fixed on the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, inviting him to taste them, which he did.

"Mmh, so good.." Eddie's wet tongue tasted first her left nipple and then moved to her right, continuing to move inside her.

The sound of their skins colliding and her moans were enough to drive Eddie to the extreme, who had been dreaming of that moment for days. He would have liked to have given her more pleasure, massaging her clits and whispering dirty words to her but it was not the moment. The only thing that was going through his mind was the need to come, even though he knew that he would have to break her legs later.

Eddie did his best not to make a sound but to no avail, the walls of her were sucking him so deliciously that when he came inside her, her name slipped from his mouth.

It took him a few seconds to understand what had happened and how much he had screwed up, all to fulfill his sexual desire. Eddie came inside her and released her without any finesse, letting her fall on the locker room floor. He pulled up his pants and adjusted his ski mask that had moved slightly from all the action. When he lowered his gaze, he met hers, she was scared.

"Who you are?" She whispered on the verge of tears, covering her body with her towel and feeling how the hot semen of that stranger came out of her.

Again Eddie didn't answer and stared at her. So fragile, so defenseless, so corrupted. He smiled slightly as he imagined Hargrove's face when he found out that a son of a bitch had ended up inside his girlfriend, and in the amount of money that Nancy would give him tomorrow after the championship.

She tried to get up from the ground but Eddie stepped on her hard on one of her ankles. The girl screamed that went unnoticed by the manager who was still cleaning the skating rink. Eddie provided more pressure on her, who was trying to get his foot off of her unsuccessfully. He was much stronger than her, it was clear. Eddie looked around for something that would hurt the girl even more, and he found it.

Eddie slipped his foot off her ankle and walked over to where her skating shoes were. The girl tried to stand up and escape but she couldn't, her ankle was already beginning to swell. Eddie grabbed one of the shoes and removed the safety band that covered the sharp metal blade.

She whimpered when she saw how he approached her with her shoe in hand, she knew what was going to happen to her. She had no escape, she was finished.

Eddie gripped the shoe tightly and landed the first blow on one of her legs, cutting her both clean and deep. He repeated his action several times with both legs, making sure not only to make her unable to walk for a long time, but also to leave marks for a lifetime.

When he was satisfied, eddie left the place with a smile and the sweet scent of her on his face.

[obsidiancreates]

Robin Hood: Man In Vents

@pineapple-psychic

"Gus." Shawn whispers as quietly as he can into the little mic pinned to his collar. "I see you flirting with the receptionist."

"Heh, one second." Gus's smirk slips right off as he turns and whispers back "You told me to say I'm security!"

"So no-one would question the mic and earpiece! Not to creep out some poor girl taking this jerk's calls all day!"

"I'm not creeping anybody out!"

"She's literally holding a tiny lipstick taser in her palm."

"Wh- where are you?!"

"The vents. ... Top of the wall to your right."

"Shawn, you're supposed to be in this guy's office already."

"I had to take a pit-stop, man, you were totally ignoring me!"

"Just get in there, if someone we know spots me we're toast."

"Dude, Lassie and Jules are totally busy with that other case with the dead bull or whatever."

"It was a dead matador, Shawn, and they're only busy because you put them on the wrong lead!"

"Yeah, so we're covered."

"Just get into that office!"

Shawn watches Gus turn back around with his 'Smooth Gus' smile and keep chatting with the receptionist- who's relaxing more as Gus talks to her, actually, and she realizes he's just Not As Smooth As He Thinks He Is rather than Trying To Be Creepy.

Shawn crawls through the vents, wondering not for the first time why Santa Barbara seems to make all their air vents big enough for over-30-year-old-men to crawl through with room to spare, and makes it to the office. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his little uses-actual-tape vintage tape recorder, stolen from his dad's house, and hits record.

"No, look, if we sell more than this it'll look suspicious. ... I know, I know, but our payout won't be worth shit if we get caught. Just- have you taken care of the severance situation? ... Well, cripes, Monty, if you don't find a way to avoid paying out severance after this we'll have done it all for nothing! ... That's it, I'm coming down to your office. No, I don't give a crap if your wife is there, kick her out or I'll beat her ass along with yours. ... You'll take this talk from me as long as you live, if you don't want to become my next scapegoat."

The phone slams back into it's receiver, and the CEO storms out of his office.

Shawn tests the vent grate- if he did it right when he pretended to be the building inspector a few days ago, it should just-

CRASH!

... Whoops.

Shawn slides out of the vent and lands in a heap on the floor, springing back up as quickly as possible and going for the computer! This office is relatively isolated, but someone will have heard that. Gus posing as security can maybe buy him twenty minutes, but after that he's risking everything.

Gus would kill him for saying so, but all that makes this even more fun.

He copies the password he saw being entered in the reflection of the window when he came in to sabotage the vent, pulls out the list of keywords Gus's jotted down for him, and starts combing through the files as quickly as possible. He plugs his pineapple-shaped hard drive into the PC unit and begins downloading everything relevant to the insider trading and company self-sabotage.

"Dude, hurry up, I just got told over the walkie that there was a loud sound in the CEO's office," Gus hisses through the earpiece.

"I'm hurrying!"

"Hurry harder, Shawn! Oh, uh, hello, fellow security team. Yeah, Im uh, going to check out the disturbance myself. no need for all of us, right?"

"You're in fire, dude."

"Yeah, well, I'm a uh, black belt in taekwondo, so I really don't need any backup. Might get messy."

"Black be- okay I know that's not true, but I also know you've been sneaking out of cases more often than usual. Gus, are you taking martial arts classes without me? How is our partnership supposed to work if you become a lethal weapon of flesh and blood and I don't?"

"I'm not taking any classes, I'm buying you time," Gus hisses again. "Quit distracting me!"

"Fine. ... But we should sign up for some classes together after this."

"I agree, but shhh!"

"Fine. ... Okay, okay, I got it!" Shanw unplugs everything, makes sure his gloves didn't rip or leave any fibers behind- and then looks up at the vent. "Oh. Oops."

"Oops?!"

"It's uh- it's a little high to reach."

"Oh my go- you didn't measure a way up to your only escape route?"

"I was a little focused on the entire rest of the whole plan!"

"Figure it out fast, we're almost at the elevator!"

"Ah- stall for time! Pretend to pee yourself!"

"No, stop using that as a go-to distraction!"

"Well do something!"

"Ah- HEY! Ahem, hey, guys, uh, you know, I read in Men's Digest last week that elevators have been linked to Kidney Stones."

Shawn looks around frantically for something he can use to get up to the vent that won't leave a suspicious trail- nothing. Unless...

"Dude, I'm taking a risk."

"Another one?!"

"Trust me!"

Shawn pulls the wheely chair over to the vent and stands on it. It's just enough for him to leverage himself into the space. He hops off and grabs the vent cover, puts it on top of the headrest, and turns. He puts his feet on the wall, walks them up to the vent opening, and slowly walks his hands up to the top of the chair to leverage himself into the exit.

As soon as his hands reach the top he hears the elevator ding down the hallway. He hears Gus's rambling coming closer, and knows it's now or never. He takes a deep breath, winces in preparation for the on coming pain, and pushes off of the chair! He just barely manages to grab onto the vent as the chair goes flying across the floor back into place!

His push gets him halfway into the vent, the wind knocked right out of him, but he has no time to recover. He squirms the rest of the way in, and managed to re-affix the loose vent cover right as the door to the office opens.

Gus glances up at the vents and they lock eyes. Shawn gives a thumbs-up, and begins scooting backwards out of the line of sight.

"I'm never helping you with one of these again," he hears Gus mumble over the earpiece.

They both know Gus is lying. They're partners in crime-solving and in crime, and they always will be. Especially when it's something like this.

Now to figure out if blackmail or exposure is the best use for what they've gathered...

[nohoperadio]

The date for my annual performance review at work has been set for one month from today. The review day itself is not a big source of stress, it's the management's opinion that I'm good at my job, it's a mildly awkward thing to go through but it's very unlikely to "go badly" on the day.

However!

I gotta fill out the paperwork first, which consists of seven pages, each page representing one of the abstract work virtues ("teamwork", "initiative", "customer service" etc), and for each of these I have to write 3+ concrete examples of things I did over the past year that exemplify that virtue, followed by a description of how each thing I did impacted the business, followed by explaining what lesson I took from each thing.

This is a chore that combines several things I hate hate hate and am bad bad bad at:

homework (the paperwork doesn't have to be done at home, you can schedule work time to do it and this is considered fine, but this doesn't work for me at all for reasons we'll get to in a bit), I'm not even good at structuring my free time when the only things I'm trying to fit into my schedule are nice things I enjoy doing, let alone this

bullshitting, the whole thing is premised on an abstract dreamt-up-by-HR model of how people's jobs work that bears so little relation to reality that it's basically impossible to complete the form without a lot of bullshitting. You have to take utterly mundane and routine moments from your job that don't mean anything and write them up in a way that emphasizes how brilliant and special and passionate you are; also because they ask for an absurdly large amount of examples, you find you spend a lot of time and mental effort figuring out how to reword stuff you've already written elsewhere in such a way that it's not too obvious you're repeating yourself. I am extremely averse to bullshitting to an extent that I fully acknowledge is irrational and unhealthy but I don't seem to be able to do much about it: at uni I would occasionally miss deadlines because I couldn't figure out what my actual opinions were about the thing the essay was about, and I couldn't bring myself to just write an essay endorsing a conclusion I wasn't sure about. I hope that doesn't come across as even slightly a boast, there is no virtue there, it's an extremely fucking stupid attitude to have, I knew that at the time but I couldn't seem to change it. And I'm still kind of like that unfortunately, I can write bullshit but it feels horrendous and takes a ton of will power and progress will be comically slow.

expressing positive sentiments about myself, this one's self-explanatory I think

The result of these points is that I find writing these things so emotionally draining that it often takes like literal hours of psyching myself up/calming myself down just to find the right state of mind where I can even get started, and then often that leads to like, two or three bullet points worth of progress and then I'm exhausted. If this sounds dumb to you, well, yeah. That's why I can't realistically do it during work time, what am I gonna do request a whole day's worth of time and then produce like 30 words by the end of it? I'm not doing that. On top of these setbacks resulting from my unfortunate personality, there's also the fact that my particular role is quite different from most people's in the company but I still have to fill out the same standard form as everyone else, e.g. I rarely deal directly with customers so I have to really reach to argue that stuff I'm doing counts as "customer service", there's a lot of that kind of thing.

I'm not sure if I'm really conveying what I find horrible about this very well, but basically it's: 1] a lot of work, which 2] relies on skills I am extremely weak on and 3] aggravates my weird neuroses in various ways, and all the while 4] the whole thing is manifestly pointless and dumb. That's a recipe for aaaaaaaaaaaaa. If this year goes like the previous two years, I'll spend the weeks leading up to it feeling guilty and panicky for a significant portion of every day and doing that thing where I procrastinate the productive task constantly while not being able to really enjoy the things I'm using as procrastination either; I'll make ludicrously small amounts of progress on a handful of good days, but ultimately somehow force my way through most of it all in one go just before the deadline.

Maybe it won't be like that this time. My general being-a-person competence has been improving year on year for the past several, maybe this is the year I only moderately suck at this type of task. I shall let that sentiment have the last word here, not because it's especially plausible but because it feels virtuous to do so.

(I feel like it would be unjust to write this post and fail to say: I like my job. A lot! It's nothing very glamorous, I work in a bookshop and get paid marginally more than minimum wage, but: I find the work satisfying, I virtually never have the "ugh I can't wait till I can go home" feeling, and there's a small number of people there who I like very much and who like me in return. All three of those are things I literally could not conceive of being true of any job before I started here; when I said above that my being-a-person competence has improved the past few years, my job is a huge part of that. I have more positive feelings towards my work than a lot of people ever get to experience and I feel lucky for that. But this one particular aspect of it which comes once a year always kind of ruins my life for the better part of a month and I really wish it didn't exist.)