#it's so old that I can't trim the replies

[altuspavus]

@whalefelled

"How do you like snow without liking everything terrible which it brings alongside it, hm?" Dorian teases in response. It's an easy back-and-forth to fall into, it's always so surprisingly easy to fall into any conversation with Bull, he's found. Less surprising as time goes on, even. He can feel Bull's gaze upon him and preens, just a bit. Even swathed in so many layers as he might be, even ridiculous as he knows he must look, a man can appreciate being appreciated.

"Mmmm, Maker, don't say such things and tempt me, Bull," Dorian chastises. But oh he's right, it would be lovely. "Do those even exist so far south as we are?" Worldly, Bull had called himself earlier. The mage presumes, should anyone know, it would have to be him. Or, perhaps, any random Fereldan, but he has no reason nor want to ask them when Bull exists as a much more enjoyable option. Perhaps he asks for unspoken greedy reasons, such as spending time with Bull somewhere nice, somewhere away from the pressures of assisting in saving the world and all of the terrible things that go along with it.

altuspavus​:

          Dorian’s face scrunches up nearly immediately at the qunari’s comment. Liking snow, what a concept. How… terrible. Dorian could never. He shakes his head and snuggles down further into his coat and blanket cocoon. Bull could take all of this blighted snow, if it meant he’d never deal with it again.

          ❝ Antivans are a lot to deal with, though rather talented at the production of brandy and the…. wielding of needles for the purposes of aesthetics. ❞ Dorian laughs to himself. He had gotten the majority of his piercings in Antiva, since there was a difference in skill between them and the rest of the world. ❝ You’ve just said you enjoy snow. Surely this is perfect for you, ‘lucky’, as it were. ❞ Bull having to put up with Dorain’s complaints, however? Certainly not as lucky.

“I like snow, I don’t like my nipples freezing off… or the chafing–” Bull muses. Bull takes a quick stock of the other’s piercings, humming in appreciation, at least Dorian knew where the superior craftsmanship laid in that case. With a little click of his tongue, Bull leaned back into the warmth of the fire a moment and away from Dorian.

“What I’d really like, is a nice hot spring.” he mused with a teasing lilt to his voice. It’d been a long while since he’d indulged in one, but he imagines the wonders it’d do after spending the past few days in the fucking snowy wasteland here.

[coyotelip]

starchaser microfic: baby || old married couple || @into-the-jeggyverse || wc: 905

James wakes up alone next to the still-warm pillow on the other side of the bed and to the sound of the water running in the shower. 

Long, lazy mornings in bed are meaningless to James without his husband, so he quickly gets up, puts on some shorts, and heads for the bathroom. 

The door is unlocked, as locks become irrelevant in a long marriage, so James calmly enters the room, does his business, washes his hands, and splashes cool water on his face. Through the noise of the water, Regulus still doesn't notice his presence, the shadow of his slender figure moving as he reaches for the shampoo on the shelf. 

James touches the blue curtain that separates him from the shower and pulls it back a little to look inside. Regulus has his back to him and still doesn't notice the other man's presence. His back muscles are tense as his raised hands massage his scalp, lathering his hair with shampoo. The hot air, along with the strong smell of soap, hits James in the face, but his attention is drawn to the figure of his husband. He follows the line of his spine downward, the tattoo on Regulus' side half hidden but still familiar. Two distinct dimples on his lower back, his favorite mole between them. Round buttocks... James can't help but reach out and pinch one of them. 

“Shit!” rings through the room, echoing off the wet walls. Regulus turns to him with frightened eyes, but the fright quickly turns to irritation. He shakes off some foam in James' direction, trying to shoo him away. “You sick pervert, get out of here!” 

James laughs heartily at the sight of Regulus' skin turning red from the combined efforts of his little pinch and the hot shower. But he obediently pulls the curtain back and turns to the sink. “Is it a crime or a perversion to look at your own husband in the shower?” he says loudly, so that he can be heard over the sound of the water. 

The mirror above the sink is fogged with steam, and James isn't wearing his glasses, so his reflection is just a blur of color. He picks up his toothbrush, adds toothpaste, and starts brushing his teeth. 

Regulus, meanwhile, replies, “Your love of sneaking up on me is actually the reason why we're going to divorce someday.” 

James just smiles to himself with a mouthful of toothpaste, the same thing Regulus has been saying all along their relationship. “One day this will be the reason we break up,” he said during the first year of their relationship. He attributed his first gray hairs to James' behavior. However, he still blushes every time.

Spitting out the paste, James says, “Tell me more about it.” 

Regulus clicks his tongue, “About our divorce?” 

“Yeah.” James rinses his mouth. “Have you added this section to your whole life planning folder yet? It's got to be somewhere before the retirement section, right?” 

Despite James' joking tone, such a folder did exist in Regulus' desk. In fact, it was just a collection of all the necessary documents and templates that might come in handy in the future. To it, Regulus added old materials from their wedding planning, drawings of the renovation they had done ten years earlier, property documents, and old templates for adoption papers. The latter were in the deepest corner, long forgotten, because the topic had never gone beyond discussion. But Regulus still couldn't just get rid of them. 

“Uh, I have an appointment with my lawyer for the divorce papers this Thursday, so expect a letter,” Regulus says lightly. Meeting Dorcas for coffee on Thursdays was a long-established tradition, and the woman's career as a divorce lawyer has become a favorite playful manipulation of Regulus for any occasion. 

James just snorts, running his palms over his face. He wipes the mirror and almost bumps his nose into it, carefully examining his reflection. He runs his fingers along the line of his beard, checking to see if it needs trimming here or there, and strokes his neck. His stiff hair on his chin and above his upper lip seems more perfect than ever, giving James a statuesque appearance for his age and confidence in his attractiveness. 

He really didn't care how many women or men turned to him on the street, how wide the baristas smiled at him, or how many years they gave his look. All that mattered to James was how Regulus reached across the table during his morning coffee to wipe the milk foam from his mustache, or simply took his face in his hands and ran his thumbs along the smooth line of his cheek stubble. His gaze at these moments spoke more than anything else. 

Looking at his reflection, James suddenly remembers his late father, whom he had never seen young except in photographs. But now, looking at himself in the mirror, he resembles him more than ever. The muscles in his chest clench simultaneously with sadness for the dear man and a rush of happiness because of his memories. 

With wet hands, James brushes his unruly hair back and gathers the strength to say, “Regulus?” 

“Hmm?” comes the man behind the curtain. 

“I think we should have a baby.” 

Silence reigns for a second before the curtain is abruptly pulled back, revealing a naked and foamy Regulus staring at him wide-eyed, “What?!”

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Brotherly Love

Eddie Munson x Stepsister!reader

Summary: You move in with your mom's new husband, only to find out that he has an annoyingly hot son.

Warnings: Swearing, derogatory words, dark themes, hate kinda sex, 18+ content, Stepbrother!Eddie, sexual themes, a little Steve Harrington x reader, cheating, rich people stuff, kinda enemies to lovers

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

"Ugh this is so stupid, why do we have to move... he should be the one to leave his house" You groan out.

"I already told you sweetie, Dean has work in his part of town.. he can't leave his job to move over here" Your mom replies as she finishes boxing up the last of the kitchen utensils.

Your mom met some guy on one of her work trips and now they're getting married. You think she's totally lost it having only known this guy for three months. Ever since your dad left with some skank a year ago, your mother has been absolutely devstated and wanting a new man. It's not because she missed your dad, but because she's afraid it will look bad to all her rich and snobby friends.

Now she's agreed to marry some guy she barely knowns to gain back the respect of her colleagues. Which is a HUGE mistake. She's totally ruining your life, making you move an hour away to live with some complete stranger who she thinks she loves! You built a life for yourself here, I mean an hour away isn't that far..you could always drive back, but still your boyfriend lives here!

"So its okay that Dean has work, but what about me?... I mean all my friends are here and what about your job too?" You saying sealing the box with tape.

"Honey its only an hour away I'm sure your friends can spend a few weekends with us.. Dean has a very huge house... Oh and I'm quitting my job" She says picking up the box and walking away.

"What the Fuck?.. What do you mean you're quitting, I mean isn't this to show that you have another husband and you're better than everyone else?.. You did this for your job.. Did you not?!" You follow after her.

"Honey, watch your language.. Steve won't want to marry someone who has a filthy mouth" She looks at you and sets the box by the front door.

"Dean has more than enough money to take care of us I won't need that job with those snobby little whores anymore" She smiles at you and walks upstairs to grab the last of the boxes.

______________________________________________

After saying your goodbyes to your friends and your boyfriend, against your will, your mom insisted that a taxi drive you to your new house, saying that she didn't want to ruin her nails..whatever that means.

"Why can't you be alone mom, do you seriously need another man ruining your life..this is like what the fourth one?" You say looking out the window of the car.

"Sweetie I'll have you know that I actually love Dean, he is everything that we need to become the perfect family.. now hush were almost there" She pats your leg, motioning for you to sit tight and be quiet. Perfect family my ass.

__________________________________________

When you arrive at your new house, it's just what you'd expect from your mom. A gated mansion with three floors. The bushes are neatly trimmed and the grass is mowed. There are fountains out front and rose vines litter the walls.

"It's a little old fashion don't you think?" You look at your mom who is bursting with excitement. You roll your eyes at her.

The door opens up and Dean comes out to greet you both. "Darling you look beatuilful...oh and Y/n lovely to see you again" He gives your mother a kiss on the check and smiles at you. You nod your head and walk into the house.

"Your welcome to pick any room on the second floor, your mother and I will be on the third..Oh and just don't go into the room by the first bathroom, that's my son's" He motions you to follow him up the stairs.

This guy has a son?! Your mom didn't tell you about this. Fucking Great!

"Some of your things have been shipped over already, but the other ones are still in processing, if you need anything there's a small shop just about a ten minute drive from here.. my driver, Ted, can take you" He says while showing you and your mom the second floor.

"Thanks." You reply, not looking at him.

"Okay, well then dear... shall we?" He takes your mother's hand and leaves you on the second floor to pick out a room.

_______________________________________

A couple hours later, you're left alone to fix up your new room. It's big, VERY big. There's a king size bed in the middle and a full size walk in closet, with a bathroom that has a tub, a FUCKING HOT TUB. While you could get use to this life-style, you miss your actual home.

It's around ten at night when you decide to call your boyfriend. "Steve, I miss you this place sucks, there's like literal fucking maids and cooks and shit, I feel like I'm living in some old timey palace and not the good kind, the one where there's a dungeon with blood splattered on the walls."

He laughs at your response, "Babe, I promise I'll see you soon and when I do, we can try out that new toy I got you."

"Oh yea.. and what exactly would you do to me with that toy" You say, moving your hands toward your panties.

"Well first, I'd get you nice and wet.. using my tongue. Then I'd stick a finger or two inside, if you could handle it." You hear him unbuckle his jeans.

"Which you can because you're my dirty girl, aren't you Y/n?" He asks.

"Yes, I'm your dirty girl" You moan out toying with your clit, as you envision him sucking on it.

"That's right baby, just for me..moan my name pretty girl" You hear him jerking himself off over the phone.

"ahh~ Steve!" You yell out, working your clit faster.

"Then, after your wet enough, I'd stick the little thing inside your hole, putting it on the highest setting..You'll be begging for me to let you cum, but I'll make you wait until I'm finshed fucking your mouth" You hear his breathing increase as he goes on.

"Please, please Steve I want it arghhh~" You finally cum, clenching down on your fingers. You hear Steve moan out your name with a finally pump as he cums.

"That's my girl"

You hung up the phone after saying goodnight and go to wash off your hands, when you see something from behind your cracked door. You stop your movements, only moving your head to look through the crack from your spot by the bed. As you try to move toward the door, the dark figure runs off. What the fuck? You open the door and look out the hall, seeing the door by the bathroom shut close. It's Dean's son.

____________________________________

The next morning you get ready and head downstairs for breakfast, when you collide with a hard figure. You look up and see a long-dark haired tattooed man with piercings. The complete opposite from Steve.

"Watch where you're going" He scoffs going to walk in the opposite direction. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"I know you were watching me" You speak up, turning toward him.

He stops in his tracks, his back facing you. "I don't know what you're talking about" He turns around and faces you, his arms crossing.

"Don't play dumb with me, you were watching me last night, when I was touching myself.." You lower your voice.

"Now I don't know how much you saw, but I have a boyfriend so don't get any ideas" You cross your arms back.

"Trust me, you're not my type princess" He laughs at you walking away.

"Excuse me I'm EVERYONES type and YOU were the one watching me!...YEAH YOU, I bet you liked it, perving on me like a freak!" You yell after him. What an asshole.

___________________________________________

For the next few days he purposely annoys the shit out of you. He used one of your nice shirts to wipe the sweat off his back after he worked out. He threw his dirty underwear in your basket of CLEAN clothes. And he bought home some chick the other day and she was so fucking loud you couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. You swear he's annoying you every chance he gets, like he's getting off on it and it's completely working, which is annoying you even more.

"Mom I cannot live here anymore, Dean's son is a child, a literal fucking child, I hate him!" You yell out.

"Shhh, lower your voice." Your mom says grabbing your arm to pull you outside, just when Dean walks in.

"I heard what you said and I'm sorry that Eddie hasn't been the most welcoming..I will talk to him" He apologies and walks away.

Your mom shakes her head, "Please Y/n do not ruin this for me..for us" She lets you go and follows after Dean.

So that little shits name is Eddie, you think to yourself.

___________________________________________________

A few weeks go by and both you and Eddie have been messing with each other. You hate him and he hates you, which isn't ideal for your mother's "Perfect family", but you cannot stand the guy, even if you tried.

Steve, however, is finally able to come over this weekend and you need to make sure that Eddie won't do or say anything to ruin it.

You knock on his door, but he doesn't answer...so you walk in anyways. You're going to tell this idiot to stay away whether he chooses to listen or not.

When you walk in, you find Eddie with his back turn to the door. He must've just gotten out the shower because he is completely naked, except for the towel around his waist. He shakes his hair out and you continue to stare in silence. His back is dripping water and you wonder if he has ever looked this good.

He finally turns around and spots you. He notices the way you're staring and the bastard smirks at you.

"Enjoying the show princess?" he chuckles.

"Wha-What No, I-I was just.." Fuck, why did you come here again?

He walks closer to you and you take a step back. Your back hits the door as he closes in on you.

"What were you saying?" he grabs your face, your lips inches apart.

"I hate you!" You blurt out.

He smiles at you, "I hate you too." he closes the gap and forcefully kisses you. You gasp, what the fuck, why is this dickhead kissing you?! Still, you lean into the kiss anyways, kissing back harder.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, his towel dropping at the movement. You feel his cock growing as it touches your ass over your jeans and you can tell that he is big, bigger than you've had. He sits you down on his bed, starting to unbutton your jeans. When he finally pulls your jeans off, he starts to feel up your body, with his hands, reaching down to where you need him the most.

You stop his movements and break the kiss, "Wait, I'm... this is wrong" You say trying to catch your breath.

"If this is so wrong, then why are you so wet for me?" He asks, touching you over your panties as he starts to move his hands in a circular motion.

You moan his name. God, was he always this hot?

"B-But you're my stepbrother and we both are taken" You try to reason, but it comes out as a breathy moan.

He smirks at you, "You jealous of what you heard the other night?.. had to get you back for all your late night calls" He confesses.

"Wha- But you have been watching me, you asshole" You slap him and he laughs in response.

"Your whines are too pretty for me to just ignore" He says, starting to kiss around your neck. "Beside with how loud you were being I'm pretty sure you wanted me to watch".

"Eddie I-"

"Shhh, let me take my time playing with your pretty cunt"

You lay back on his bed, spreading your legs open for him. This is so wrong on so many levels, but it feels too good to stop. You think you'll just get off from him just this one time, you won't even let him fuck you... Who are you kidding, you want him to fuck you.

"This doesn't change anything, I still hate you." you speak in labored breaths as he laps your pussy with his tongue.

He pulls your thighs closer to him in response, making you gasp as he speeds up his motions.

"Fuckkk Eddie, your gonna make me cum~" You moan out clenching your thighs together. He stops you, pushing his hands against your legs.

"Keep them open!" He growls out. You smirk and defy him on purpose, squishing his head between your thighs.

"Or what?" you ask.

He pulls away from you quickly and in one quick motion he flips you over, making you gasp in shock. He pushes your face down into the sheets, keeping your ass in the air. You hear him move behind you, his hand on your neck, keeping you from getting away.

"Or I'll stick it in your tight little ass and no matter how much you scream for me to stop, I won't until I cum inside you." You feel him rub his dick along your hole., you clench in response. Fuck why was this making you so turn on. Your never done anal before, telling Steve that you rather not experience that pain, but fuck it you want to experience it with Eddie.

"You like the way I speak to you baby.. like your a slut, my toy to play with?" He slaps your ass, making you jolt forward.

"Yes Eddieee please~" You whine out.

"Please what?"

"Fucking fuck me already Eddie" You whine, pushing your ass back against him.

He grabs your hips and aligns his cock with your soaking hole.. when a knock sounds on the door.

You both freeze and you turn around to look at him. He meets your eyes silently telling you to be quiet.

"Yeah!" He yells out, his hand still on your hip.

"Hey Eddie Y/n's boyfriend is here, so be nice to him and to Y/n" His dad speaks from the other side of the door.

"Oh also, Have you seen Y/n by chance, she wasn't in her room?" he continues.

"Nope, haven't seen her" Eddie lies.

"Alright well let me know if you do son, her boyfriend was so excited to see her and looks like she isn't even here". Dean laughs and you hear him finally walk away from Eddie's door.

"Fuck" You move out of Eddie's grasp and pick up your clothes from the floor, starting to put them back on.

"So your boyfriends here?" Eddie asks you.

"Looks like it" You say, finishing putting your pants on.

You turn and look towards Eddie, not knowing what to say. You were literally seconds away from fucking him and now your boyfriend is here. This should have never happened with Eddie, but God did you want it to so badly, you can tell by the wet spot forming in your underwear.

"Well sneak out tonight when he's sleeping and we can continue where we left off princess" He says, putting his clothes on.

"Are you serious?" You ask him in disbelief.

"Yeah, I know you want me, figured I'd make your wishes come true." He looks at you with a dumb smile.

"Fuck you"

"I will tonight" He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes and leave his room, slamming the door shut.

You seriously hate the guy, but oh were you so going to meet him after Steve falls asleep.

[tokkiwrites]

summary: you are staying with your aunt this summer. she loves talking you to places only she enjoys, so when your night together was becoming increasingly irritating, a handsome stranger shows you that jazz clubs aren't so bad.

tags: pwp, old man logan, human logan, age gap, mention of divorce, afab reader, sex with a stranger, sex in a public space, p in v unprotected (that's spooky!! don't do it), creampie, dirty talk, a few pet names, sir kink, a little breeding kink (for like a line).

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! I'm kicking this off with a logan fic because i can't be stopped. this is around 3.1k words, so i hope you enjoy it. omg, my 2nd kinktober guys, yeppeee. IF YOU SEE ANY TYPOS NO U DIDN'T

The people here don’t rush—they settle. its something you had to learn the hard way, now that your parents left you with your aunt for the summer. She enjoyed the finer things in life, like pearls that had to sit perfectly, right above her clavicle, aged whiskey with no ice in it, and jazz clubs.

"Oh, I wish I grew up during those times... the roaring twenties. Everything was much more sophisticated andㅡ what's that word..? oh, polished." she went on. "Yeah, and more racist." you perk up. "Young lady! Your dad left you with me so you can straighten your act up. Now you speak when I tell you to." her voice was stern.

"Oh, now I truly feel like I'm in the 1920s, next up, my lobotomy!" you say with a strained smile whilst doing the infamous 'jazz hands'. By the time you finish, your aunt is red in the face, and it wasn't from the absurd ammount of rouge she had on. You clear out your throat and get up from the table. "I'll go use the washroom. Sorryㅡ" the woman scoffs as you turn around and leave "We'll talk about this home."

holding in your giggles, you swiftly make your way to the bathroom, finally letting go of the laughs you were keeping down as you close the door behind you. you didn’t hate your aunt, you hated that she tried to be something she wasn't; those pearls were not 'swanky originals' as she would say when people asked, but a $7 gift from her cheating, ex-husband. then again, maybe that why she felt the need to create this persona when others are around. and maybe that's why your parents sent you away from home, as to not hear about their inevitable divorce. it's not like you were a child. you were their child, but an adult nonetheless. alas, you were 22, stuck in a jazz club with your divorcee aunt, laughing all on your own.

well, almost.

"What's so funny, young lady?" what. the. fuck. why is there a man in the woman’s bathroom? and why is he talking to you? "Excuse me, old man, this is theㅡ" you raise your voice, and you turn around to face him but the words get stuck in your throat as you lay eyes on him. he was stunning, incredibly handsomeㅡ to say the least. His dark hair, streaked with the slightest touch of silver at the temples, was slicked back with utmost precision. A neatly trimmed beard framed his strong jawline, the salt-and-pepper strands giving him a distinguished air, as if life had brushed him with just the right amount of experience without taking away any of his vitality. His eyes, a deep, knowing hue, carried the weight of someone who had seen the world, yet still found wonder in it.

"Lady? Hey, 'r you okay?" he pulls you out of your trance. "What, oh- I, yeah! What are you doing in the ladies room?" you finally speak up again and he raises one of his brows before questioning you again. "You sure? 'm pretty positive the door distinctly said 'mens room' then againㅡ" he point to the sign printed on the door "I'm just an old man, so you might be right." oh, how you regret calling him that. even though he was oldㅡ not the old you meant when you said it. with your face scrunched up you turn around and read the sign.

fuck.

"What's it say, sweetheart?" he prys as you let out a defeated sigh. "mens room.." you reply. "what's that? sorry, I'm so old I can barely hear ya." you ball up your fists in embarrassment and say it louder. "mens room."

"Yeah...mens room." you can hear the sound of his footsteps coming closer from behind you. His voice was low, teasing, the kind that sent shivers down your spine despite your frustration. You could feel him standing behind you now, the warmth of his presence far too close for comfort. His breath brushed against the back of your neck, and you bit down on your lip to suppress the strange rush of nerves rising in your chest.

"Looks like you wandered in here by mistake," he said, voice smooth and almost amused. "But I won't hold it against you. Happens to the best of us, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There it was again, the casual endearment that somehow made your skin prickle. You turned around to face him once more, trying to muster some semblance of composure, though it was nearly impossible with him standing near you. Up close, he was even more disarming, his gaze sharp yet somehow warm, like he was in on some private joke you hadn’t quite caught on to yet.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he cut you off, one corner of his mouth lifting into a crooked smile that sent your pulse racing. "No harm done. Besides, it’s not every day I get to have a conversation this... interesting in a bathroom." he motions his hands around.

"I didn’t mean to call you old. That was... uncalled for."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through the air between you. "Don't sweat it. I've been called worse, trust me. Besides, a little gray never hurt anyone, right?" He ran a hand through his hair, almost like he was flaunting it, as if daring you to disagree.

You found yourself at a loss for words again, caught between wanting to melt into the floor and the strange, undeniable attraction pulling you toward him. a little gray never hurt, indeed. "So," he continued, breaking the silence as his gaze roamed over your flustered expression. "What’s a lady like you doing in a men's room anyway? Trying to stir up trouble?"

You rolled your eyes, finally finding your footing again, and crossed your arms over your chest. "I could ask you the same thing, considering you're not exactly rushing me out of here."

"Maybe I’m just enjoying the company," he said, his voice dropping just a bit lower, sending a flutter through your stomach. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you figure out how to get out of this mess." the man takes a step closer. Before you could stop yourself, you let out a small laugh. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he replied, stepping even closer, his voice now barely more than a murmur. "But you're still standing here, aren't you?" his palm now sitting on the small of your back, and it feels like you've been waiting for this your whole life. it was disarming, intoxicating—how effortlessly he touched you, as if he’d always known you, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady the pounding in your chest, but the way he looked at you made it impossible. His eyes, deep and piercing, held you in place, like they were pulling you into some unspoken dance, something wild and unnamed.

"Not saying much now, are you, sweetheart?" he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. His fingers splayed ever so slightly against your back, and you swore you could feel your pulse thrum beneath his touch, like a melody. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to moveㅡ to break away from him this instant, but your feet were rooted to the spot.

"I'mㅡ" you tried to speak but your voice betrayed you. The curve of his mouth shifted into a slow, devilish smile as his hand slid a fraction lower, just above your hip, a silent invitation pulling you nearer.

"See?" His voice was like velvet, wrapping around you. "Maybe you didn’t wander in here by accident after all." he tuts. "Your daddy was right, you do need straightening up, sweet thing."

"Y-You know my dad?" and he can only chuckle. "I don’t, baby," he drawled, "But that little fight you had with your aunt a few minutes ago? Well, it was heard by more ears than you think." You’d thought your quarrel was contained, tucked away in a corner where no one could witness the messy unraveling of your family drama. But apparently, you were wrong—so very wrong.

"I-It wasn't really a fight.." you huff, trying to fight the growing warmth in your core. "Right, you were just being a brat. I got that, too." your eyes find his again, heart plummeting into your chest. "I'm good with brats." god, how wrong it all felt, yet you couldn't find a way. you didn't want a way out. your aunt was waiting, but you were dripping with arousal in the arms of an older man who was a complete strangerㅡ not to forget you were in the bathroom of a bar, where anyone could walk in on you at any moment. but was it so wrong to want what's wrong?

"So...You gonna let me teach you some manners, young lady?" The words hang between you, igniting something you couldn’t name , but you felt it, burning, spreading. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. No, you didn’t want to care. you felt drawn, tethered to him by something far more primal, more consuming. The risk, the recklessness—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t deny the hunger that twisted in your belly, the way your body leaned into his touch despite the alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of your mind. Maybe you’d always been waiting for something, or someone, to break you out of the mold you were supposed to fit into.

"You're thinking too much, sweetheart," he teases, his voice low and rough, sending warmth coursing through you. "Just let go. You know you want to."

The last piece of resistance crumbles. You don't want to fight anymore. You want to see where this will go, consequences be damned. You want the wildness, the chaos, the thrill of stepping outside the boundaries you've always kept yourself within.

Without thinking, you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and submission. His eyes darken, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, as if he's won some battle. "Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact sends sparks through you, and your skin burns where he touches.

"Can you at least...tell me your name? please?" You’re caught in this moment, teetering on the edge of something dangerous, and part of you needs to know who has you under their spell.

"My name’s Logan, sweet thing," he says, the name rolling off his tongue with a rough edge, like it holds more than he’s letting on. His fingers trail lightly along your shoulder and down to your cleavage, the contact making your breath hitch. "But you won’t be needing it for now," he adds. "You'll be calling be sir. Understand?" whatever happens next, you're no longer in control so you nod your head eagerly, but he isn't satisfied. "Speak, girl."

"Yes, sir." you force the words out. The moment you say it, you feel the world tilt, like something has shifted between you, pulling you further into the depths of whatever this is. The man's lips curl into a smile yet again, he reaches behind you and you close your eyes. you hear a faint click and then a soft chuckle. "Let's hope no one gets a hold of the key, wouldn't want anyone to interrupt our time here, unlessㅡ" your cheeks heat up, your thighs now pressed further together. "You'd like us to get caught, huh? Dirty girl." those last words send your head spinning and you swear you could come just from his voice alone. you never thought you'd be in a situation like this, but deep down, you wished someone just walked through that door only to see you splayed out under Logan.

without any hesitation, he spins both of you so that you are facing the large golden mirror above the counter. Logan groans, rolling his shoulders back as he bends you over the sink, your hips snug in his grip. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous, baby."

"Thank you, sir." this earns you a tug at the hair, his face right in the crook of your neck. "Say that again, baby." and you do. even if to you he's just a stranger, the need to obey him burns at your insides. you can feel his hard-on rubbing against your ass, so you press up against him making logan hiss. "You getting cocky, miss? Or are you just that excited for an old man to fuck you?"

you look down. "Please.." The man shakes his head and lands a hard smack on one of your asscheeks, making you yelp in the process. He takes his time pulling up your almost see-through dress, finally taking a look at your soaking panties that were barely covering anything. His calloused thumb makes contact with your clothed folds, dragging it up and down, in painfully slow circles. Without a warning, you hear the material rip and feel the flimsy undergarments fall on the cold tiled floor. "Pretty pussy." he mutters under his breath, undoing his trousers. he pulls them a bit down, enough for his manhood to spring free and slap against his covered bellybutton. you can see it all in the mirrorㅡ it's huge. you gasp softly as you feel him drag the tip of it against your swollen bud, and you hide your gaze, head hanging low. this doesn't last long, as you feel his rough palm grab at your face and pulling it up again. you're making eye contact with him through the mirror and you see him shake his head. "No, no. You watch while I fuck you, understand?" you shake your head, agreeing, but that isn't good enough so he slaps your cheek with the back of his hand, lightly. "Words, baby, words."

"Yes, sir." he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough, turning you into a whining messㅡ truthfully you never wanted it to end, so maybe him teasing was his way of making sure this lasts. after he thinks its sufficient, logan starts to push inside, and godㅡ your breath gets stuck into your throat, from the feeling laden with thorns; every prick of discomfort is countered by an unexpected surge of delight. Your tears fall down onto the surface under you, little moans gripping your throat as he slips inside further. "You're okay, baby, you're okay. C'monㅡ" he assures you, asking you to surrender. "Take it all- there we go.." he praises, lifting your hips a bit to get a better angle. Logan moves gently at first, each stroke hitting deeper within your core, the pain soon converging with ecstasy right as he alerts his movements.

his hips dive down with force, one of his palms snaking up and wrapping itself tightly around your throat, assuring you see how good he's destroying you. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, knew you could take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made wrapped around Logan. "Fuckㅡ sir, please.." you manage. pulling at your hair he starts "What if your sweet aunt walked in just now, huh? What ifㅡ fuck! What if she saw how good you take this cock? Yeah, nice and deep, there ya go, baby, there ya go." while thrusting relentlessly into you, your legs barely holding up anymore.

Feeling you tightening, the hand that was around your throat slips down to your clit, while the other makes you spread your legs wide again for easier access, giving you a chance to take in a big gasp of air. "want me to breed this pussy, huh? feel you up with my babies? let people inside this room, let them see your pussy filled with my come- you want that?" the room spins around you, body floating as if ready to plummet back down, you try your best to reply. "yes, yes- please, please, sir, I'mㅡ"

"Go ahead." the man succeeded to say, between his breathy groans. "Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you so much, sir!" you say as if praying to him whilst he keeps fucking into you. The man buries himself into you as you come down from your high, body almost too limp to register your surroundings. he slaps your ass, and watches you writhe under him. With a few more snaps of his hips you know he's close, nails digging roughly into your skin as he finally paints your walls with white ropes. "God fucking dammit!" you know that you'll be bruised tomorrow.

the bathroom feels sticky, and the mirror in front of you is all fogged up, but you can just barely make out your face, all tearstained and messy. You moan as he pulls out, the sudden feeling of emptiness leaving you shivering. Logan watches intently as his seed drips out of you, your body beautifully splayed out right under him. You squeeze around nothing, licking your lips, as you feel the warm beads of come trickling from inside of you, down your thighs. you're both quiet for a bit, catching your breaths. you feel like you are floating.

The sounds of the world fade away, leaving just the echo of your heartbeats. The weight of what just happened presses down on you both, thick and suffocating as you exchange glances through the mirror. Finally, you break the silence. “What do we do now?” The realization sinks in. What's done is done. "We clean you up and pray no one heard anything, baby." Logan laughs reassuringly, sensing the uncertainty in your voice.

maybe jazz clubs nights with your aunt aren't so bad after all.

[disasterofastory]

Reward (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Reward // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 6/14 Warnings: mommy kink, titfucking, sub!Brahms

Summary: Brahms was a good boy so you reward him.

The tension is thick and heavy in the air. The breakfast on the table is long forgotten since you reminded Brahms of the men coming here to take care of your internet problem. A sigh leaves your lips as you glance at the clock on the wall while the man continues to stare at you with a scowl on his face. There is a deep wrinkle between his brows as he eyes you with opposition and annoyance. His hair is still a mess of dark curls on the top of his head. "We talked about this, Brahms," you break the silence, turning your attention back to the man in front of you. Even though you are afraid he will throw a tantrum even before you can feel the effect of your coffee, you can't help but notice the fullness of his lips as he pouts at you. One of your best decisions was to trim his beard a little. He really looks like a fallen angel.

"Why are you smiling?" He asks, still scowling at you. Even though he wants to use his childlike voice, sleep is still heavy in his tone. "You are just pretty," you tell him honestly, making him blush and turn his gaze away from you for long seconds. "It won't work," he grunts, still not looking at you. Your grin widens at his behavior. Going around the table, you cup his face until he can't avoid your eyes any longer. His large hands slip to your waist automatically to pull you closer. "They won't be here for long," you tell him. "I promise." "I still don't like it." "I know," you nod. "And you don't have to like it, Brahms. I just ask you to be a good boy for me, okay?" He doesn't reply immediately, so you continue. "Can you do that for mommy?" A muffled whine breaks free from his closed lips. Your thumbs smooth over the soft pink of his cheeks. "You can't scare them away, Brahms, and you can't hurt them. They come here to help me." "I won't hurt them if they don't try to hurt or take you away from me." You nod in agreement. "Of course, Brahms, I know you will protect me." His posture straightens at your praising tone. "If you will be a good boy, I will reward you later," you promise him just to make sure he won't cause any chaos behind the walls. "What reward?" "It will be a surprise," you grin at him, playing with the rough hair of his beard. "But we didn't do this before." You already know he will love it.

You can't lie, you are worried about the men the whole time they are in the manor. You watch them from a safe distance while your eyes scan the walls every now and again. You know Brahms is here somewhere. You can hear him. "The house is old," you tell the men when they look at you questioningly when something thuds again. You know your manchild does this on purpose. He can be silent when he wants, but patience is not his strong suit. "Okay," one of the men says after a while. "It should be good." "Thank you," you smile at them, trying to hide your relief when they open the entrance door. "You know our number if something is wrong." "Yes, I know," you nod. "Thank you again, and have a nice day."

When you go back to the living room, Brahms is already there, staring at your laptop with another scowl on his face. "What's wrong?" You ask him. He just shakes his head, still pouting. "You were a bad boy, Brahms," you tell him, getting closer and closer to him. "What?" He asks, almost shocked. "I wasn't." "You made a lot of noises." "But I didn't scare them away," he reasons. "You told me I can't scare or hurt them." Well, he is right. "So you think you deserve your reward?" You coo at him, pushing him onto the couch. You can see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps, staring at you with wide eyes. "Yes," he replies, nodding. "Yes what, Brahms?" Your voice is firmer now, but you can't hide your taunting smirk as you watch him already fidgeting. "Yes, mommy." His tone is already whiny. "I want my reward."

Without saying a word, you climb up to his lap, resting your knees on either side of his hips. Your hands land on his chest and move up to his shoulders to brace yourself against him. "Then kiss me, Brahms." You barely have enough time to end your sentence when he leans even closer and latches his lips on yours. His beard grazes your skin, and his tongue invades your mouth immediately.

He is still inexperienced when it comes to intimate things, but he learns quickly and lets you lead him and teach him the way you want. You love to see him whimper and writhe when you dominate him.

His hands are warm on your hips as he squeezes your flesh there until his hold slips down your ass. His fingers dig into the rough fabric of your jeans, and he grunts with annoyance. "It's okay, Brahmsy," you break away from him for a few seconds. His lips are already swollen and red, and his eyes are glassy with need. So beautiful. "I only need to get rid of my shirt and bra for what I have planned." At the mention of your bra, his hands leave your ass immediately to push and tug on your shirt until they are on the floor. "The bra too, Brahms," you remind him, grinning. You can't help but bask in his star-struck expression.

Maybe your relationship with Brahms Heelshire is not ideal or normal, but you never felt so desired and wanted before him. There are times when you notice him staring at you like you hang the moon, and you can't even imagine leaving him. You are definitely not sane for being with a man who used a doll to live instead of him while he was hiding behind the walls, but at least you found your perfect match.

Cradling his face in your hand, you use your thumb to caress his bottom lip. His mouth opens immediately, tongue peeking out to taste your fingertip. "I love you, Brahms," you tell him, giving him a few seconds so your words can really sink in. His eyes widen, and his lips fall open even more. His hands on you tighten. "Really?" He whispers, shocked. "Yes," you nod, pecking his nose. "I really love you." A loud shriek leaves your throat when he tugs you against him until his face is at the crook of your neck. His breathing is heavy, and his arms around you are almost painful. "I love you too," he murmurs. "I love you so much." For a long while, you just sit on his lap, playing with his hair. Your heart is still wild against your ribcage, and you can feel the vehement pace of his heart on your chest. "So," you break the silence. "Do you want your reward?" You ask him, and even though he nods, he still holds you tightly. "Brahmsy," you coo, leaning closer to his ear so every word you utter trembles through his nerves. "Mommy's tits ache for your mouth." A low whine is your only answer before he pushes you away just enough to take off your bra and latch on your nipple. Brahms squeezes and gropes your breasts for long minutes, letting his saliva soak your skin until it shines under the sunlight filtering through the window. His tongue flicks your other nipple, drawing small circles around the hard pebble as your fingers grab his hair to pull him closer. Your back arches with pleasure. "Make sure mommy's tits are wet, sweet boy," you tell him. "We will need them wet and slippery." "Fuck," he grunts into your cleavage, feasting on your breasts. He sucks, licks, bites, and tugs on you while thinking about how easily he could spend his whole life like this. "That's enough, love," you hum, pushing him away. "It's okay," you peck his lips when he whines and grabs onto you harder. "I promise you will love what I have planned." When he lets you go, still not sure anything is worth enough to let go of your tits, you sink onto the floor between his legs. You sucked him off before like this, but the sight of his hard dick in your mouth still mesmerizes him.

"Don't cum without my permission, Brahmsy," you warn him firmly. Your breath fans over the tip of his cock while your hand strokes his shaft, twisting your fingers around the soft skin. The man can feel his blood pumping as his cock swells into a full hard-on. Brahms wants to whine at your command, but his mind melts the moment you take him back into your mouth, and instead, he grunts as his cock twitches in your wet channel. With your eyes still on the man, your head starts to bob up and down on his erection. Your hand is around his thick base, jerking him in a steady rhythm with your mouth. You slurp and gulp around his cock, letting your tongue swipe over his length wherever you can reach him. Soon, his cock is soaked in your saliva and his pre-cum. Small drops flow down to his balls, making the man whimper and fidget in his seat. "We have to make you nice and wet," you grin up at him when you come up for air, gently squeezing and tugging on his cock to smear your juices all over his shaft while the man huffs and puffs in your hand. A thin layer of sweat shines on his skin, and his cheeks are bright pink. There is a point when he can't even breathe anymore as he watches you spitting on his cock. "Mommy," he cries out, desperate. "Please! Let me-" "No," you tell him, letting go of his cock. The loss of your touch is so sudden that tears gather in his eyes as his erection throbs angrily at you. "Pleasepleaseplease!" "Don't you want to know what I have planned?" You ask him with a feigned gentleness. He can hear the taunting in your words clearly and loudly. "I do," he gasps. "I do." "Good boy," you praise him. "You are my good boy, Brahms. I'm so proud of you." "Fuck!" "Come closer, Brahms," you tell him. "Sit at the edge of the couch." Brahms's whole body feels numb and heavy as he obliges. "Good boy," you tell him again. "And here is your reward because you were such a good boy today." Brahms's inhale is sharp and loud as he watches you cupping your tits to bring it to his cock. His world stops spinning for a second when you press your breasts around him, enveloping his length in your soft warmth. You massage your flesh and his cock slowly and sensually as you stare at him with half-closed eyelids. "Does it feel good, Brahmsy?" You ask him. "So good," he replies. His voice is barely louder than a whisper. He is still shocked at the sight of his cock between your tits and the feeling of your softness around him. The top of his cock appears and disappears in your cleavage, and your nipples are hard peaks between your fingers. "You can move, you know," you grin at him teasingly. "You can fuck mommy's tits if you want."

The angle is a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but Brahms doesn't have enough focus to care about it. Bracing himself on the couch, he starts to move his hips up and down, watching his cock slide between your tits.

Knowing how much he loves your tits, it was a long-time-coming position you wanted to try with him. And you are not disappointed. Your pussy throbs for more, soaking your panties, but your hands are too busy to do anything about it. There is something exciting about the fact that he fucks your tits for his own pleasure. His chest heaves and his muscles tense every now and again. His glassy gaze is on your chest while you stare at his face. His lips are open with occasional whines and grunts falling out of them, and his curls fall in front of his eyes. "You are so beautiful, Brahmsy, fuck," you tell him honestly. The pink of his cheeks deepens. "I don't want you to wear your mask anymore when you are around me, Brahms," you continue. "I don't want anything hiding your pretty face from me." "Mommy," he whines, pumping you faster. You have to tighten your hold to keep your breast around his vehement pushes. With a knowing grin, you bend your neck just the right way so your tongue can reach the tip of his cock every time it appears between the swell of your breasts. Your tongue flicks and swirls around his head, letting your saliva drop as a lubricant. "Fuck!" He gasps again. His balls jerk and his cock swells with blood and the need to cum. "You can cum, Brahms," you tell him. "Cum all over your mommy's tits." The words are barely out of your mouth when his body stiffens, and his cock spurts with cum. His warm seed splashes over your skin, painting your tits and chin.

Brahms has to force his eyes to focus because he will be damned if he doesn't burn the sight of you soaked in his cum deep in his mind.

[thornsnvultures]

mechanic!Eddie blurb based on this post and @urhoneycombwitch 's reply

700+ words, nsft 18+

"Eddie, you can't keep doing all this for me for free, these parts are expensive!"

The numbers on his expense sheet were way too big for your comfort. You weren't used to someone...investing this much into you without asking for something in return.

"Well I'm not sending you to some asshole who's gonna charge you double either." Eddie swiped the paper from your hands and slid it back into the binder on the office desk. "The shop's doing well and you need a safe car to drive in. I'm not letting you run around in a death trap."

"It's not a death trap!"

Eddie gave you a look that said you both knew otherwise.

"Okay, fine. But you've gotta let me do something to make it up to you. Take you to dinner at Carlucci's? They have those wings you like," you teased Eddie with a smile, watching his cheeks redden under the sweat and grime of the day.

"You don't need to wine and dine me, sweetheart," Eddie said as he circled the desk. He took you in his arms, pulling you close to stand between his spread legs as he leaned on the creaky old wood. "I'd do anything for you, you know that."

"But sometimes I want to do stuff for you, y'know? Can't just be you that does all the taking care of." You inched in closer, close enough to him now that you could smell his cologne under the grease. It made your stomach flip and your fingers itch to grab him. So you did. You let your fingers dive into his unzipped jumpsuit, tickling at his trim waist over his undershirt. So warm and inviting now that the cool ac in the office was blasting at your spine.

"You don't have to, that's not why I...I just like knowing you're safe," Eddie said as your hands traveled up to his shoulders pushing his jumpsuit off them and down his arms. His breathing picked up as he watched your fingers skim over his biceps, the veins in his forearms.

"I am safe. You make me feel safe, Eddie."

You kissed him then, quieting the gasp and groan that fell from his lips when your hand found the bulge at the junction of his thighs. His hips stuttered and he whined when you pulled him free.

"You don't have to-"

"I know," you said as you kissed Eddie's jaw, stroked the slick, heated flesh in your hand. "It's not about the car. It's about you. Only you."

You gripped him tighter, kissed him harder. It really wasn't about the car or paying him back or any of it. He needed to know how much you cared. How much you loved him for caring.

"Fuck, fuck, ah!" Eddie shouted against your mouth, his breath coming in hard hot pants that matched yours.

"That feel good? You look so pretty when you come, Eddie. Can I see it? Come for me, Eddie. Show me how pretty you are."

The wet workings of your hand echoed in the small room and you watched as Eddie's spread thighs shook and his balls tightened. You gave them a little tug, rolling them in your fingers and Eddie shouted. He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you hard as come splattered all over his stomach and dripped down your fingers. You worked him through it until he was shuddering for you to stop.

Eddie reached for the box of tissues behind him only to turn back and see you licking your fingers clean.

"Good?"

"I should be asking you that," you laughed. "But yes, so good."

Eddie hummed and took your fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his tongue.

"Mm, you're right. I'm delicious."

You laughed and smacked his arm as he cleaned up and tucked himself away.

"Y'know, I think I changed my mind," Eddie said and turned you around so you were facing the desk. His hands slid around to the front of your jeans and you gasped when he popped the button open. Pushing your front down to the table, Eddie dropped to his knees, taking your jeans and underwear with him.

"I think I will let you treat me to dinner."

[rakurairagnarok]

Corporate Diversity

This is a commission for @bremenmask . I hope you enjoy it buddy. It has been a blast working with you.

Thomas was fuming. He had just gotten out of a call with HR, in which they talked about the position of CEO that had just opened up. They had to regretfully inform him the position would be filled by a transfer from the Turkish branch. They had made clear he would be moving up however. The new CEO had made clear he wanted Thomas to be his personal assistant and right hand man. Thomas didn't refuse this, the paycheck would be almost double his current one, but he was in no way happy about being bossed around by one of those filthy Arab brutes. He had worked his ass off for 35 years for God sakes! The new boss would be arriving tomorrow, and HR had asked Thomas to pick the man up from the airport and give him a warm welcome into the office.

"I have to work under that monkey from now on." Thomas exclaimed to his colleagues. "I can't believe I haven't been given the position."

His colleagues just nodded and let him rant. It wasn't anything new. Old man Thomas, the racist, the white supremacist. Most of them had already heard the new CEO was being considered to be a transfer from Türkiye. HR had sent them some feedback reports on what they would think of this.While most were very optimistic about this change, seeing as the department was in dire need of some diversity, they had also, anonymously ofcourse, let HR know that Thomas would be very much against this, seeing his racist demeanor. HR had taken this into consideration and told Mr. Hamad Abdul in advance. Knowing this he was still adamant to take the job and even wanted to make sure Thomas would become his closest employee, his personal assistant.

Why? HR didn't know, neither did the employees, and neither did Thomas, who was now angrily driving towards the airport. It was a hot summer day, so he was blasting the AC. He arrived at the airport, and almost immediately spotted his new boss. The man was a towering giant of a man. His tailor-made suit was almost painted onto his strong physique. A well trimmed beard adorned his strong square jaw. Thomas gulped. He stopped the car in front of the man, and rolled down the window.

"Hey Hamad, get in." Thomas almost snarled, but he managed to keep himself calm.

Mr Abdul raised an eyebrow as he leaned down. "I sincerely hope this is not the way you treat your boss Thomas?" His voice was rough, and almost completely without an accent. Thomas started to sweat.

"Sir, or Mr. Abdul, that is how you will address me, Thomas." He put an obvious emphasis of displeasure on Thomas' name.

"Y-yes sir" Thomas stammered. He didn't know why, but he had lost all fighting spirit once the man outside the car spoke to him.

"Now, you will open this door for me, and put my luggage in the trunk." Mr Abdul demanded.

"Yes sir." Thomas replied. He quickly got out of the car and opened the door for his boss. After the man got in he quickly closed the door and carried the two large trunks to the back and loaded them into his car. He swiftly got back into his seat and started to drive off.

Thomas didn't dare speak. For some unknown reason, he felt beneath the large Turkish man. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, so he turned the AC up a notch. However after doing so Mr. Abdul spoke.

"Turn that off Thomas. It is far too chilly in this country. "

"Y-yes sir…" Thomas reluctantly turned off the AC, and within minutes the car turned into a blistering sauna.

"Ah, that is better." Mr Abdul sighed in relief. Thomas looked in his rearview mirror and saw his boss unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. His large, hairy chest was already glistening with sweat.

At the same time a warm funk started to spread throughout the car. Thomas grimaced. He wasn't an idiot so he knew what the source of the smell was, but he also knew he couldn't ask Mr. Abdul to please let him open a window.

"Anything wrong Thomas?" Thomas turned his eyes back to the road. "N-no sir."

"Good, I was almost afraid you were against my smell." Thomas looked back into his mirror and saw Mr. Abdul stare right at him.

"N-no sir… it's a sign of a real man … right?" Thomas stammered.

"What is?" Mr Abdul asked with a sly smirk on his lips.

"The… the smell sir… and the sweating."

"I suppose you are right Thomas. A real man can't help but smell."

Thomas nodded as he turned his eyes back to the road.

Slowly, Thomas' own Body odor started to fade away, the overwhelming smell of Mr. Abdul filling the confines of the car.

They arrived at the office and Thomas quickly got out, opening the door for Mr. Abdul.

"Good boy." Mr. Abdul said. A shudder went through Thomas's body.

"Thank you sir!" Thomas gleefully replied. He turned red after he had said it. He swiftly turned around and led his boss into the building. After a quick tour, Mr. Abdul nodded and said, "Alright boy, let's get to work."

"Y-yes sir" Thomas hated how he turned into a blubbering mess talking to this brick wall of a guy.

Thomas took place at his desk just outside the office and got to work. Mr. Abdul frowned as he walked into his new office and closed the door behind him.

Thomas groaned as soon as the door closed.

"Motherfucker thinks he owns the place, well, I'll let him know."

_________________________________________

The next day Thomas arrived at work, 15 minutes early as he always did. He walked into the office, only to notice his desk was missing, only an out of place emptiness remaining.

"What the fuck! Where the hell is my desk?" He looked around for his stuff, but only saw his colleagues shrug and shake their heads.

The door to Mr. Abduls office opened and the new boss was standing in the doorway.

"Looking for something? Tommy ?" He said with a playful undertone.

"Where the fuck is my desk?!"

"What was that?" Mr Abdul raised an eyebrow and stared deep into Thomas's eyes.

"M-my desk… where… I…" Thomas stammered.

Mr. Abduls eyebrow went higher.

Thomas took a deep breath. "Might you know where my desk is, sir?"

Mr. Abdul smiled.

"Of course, it's right here." He stepped aside and showed Thomas's desk, neatly fitted into the office.

"I want my assistant to be able to quickly deal with any and all requests. Having a door in between us would just hinder that right?" A devilish grin spread over his squared face.

Thomas' heart sank. He would be under constant supervision, not to mention near this asshole, the entirety of his work day.

"Come, let's get to work" Mr. Abdul motionedThomas to get into his office.

Thomas slowly made his way over, briefly looking over his shoulder, only to see his co-workers snicker at his flushed visage.

Mr. Abdul closed the door behind them and got behind his desk.

"You will answer the phone quickly, and deal with it quietly.I don't want any drawn out calls. Anything I ask of you, you will do to the best of your abilities, which I hope are up to standard."

Thomas nodded and booted up his computer.

"I'll let you know if I need anything." Mr Abdul started to type away.

Thomas opened his email and began replying. He had already gotten a massive amount of emails of executives and companies asking to meet with the new CEO. He painstakingly got to work.

After about half an hour he noticed he had started to sweat. He looked over at Mr. Abdul and was about to ask if he could maybe turn the AC on, but before he could utter a single word, Mr. Abdul said, "If I need you I will call on you, otherwise I like to work in silence."

Thomas nodded, his shirt slowly getting drenched as the minutes ticked away.

After a while he picked up a familiar scent. It was Mr. Abduls musk. Thomas deeply inhaled, and quickly got back to work.

At the other side of the room, Mr. Abdul smirked.

_________________________________________

Thomas had been working in the musk ridden office for a few days now. The musk slowly seeming to lose its oppressive effect. He still couldn't help but be Mr. Abduls little bitch, and obeyed his every whim, but he did slip out a few harsh words to his coworkers.

On the flip side, he hadn't felt as spry and energetic as he did in ages. He got up early, he even ran a bit before going to work.

Thomas sat down next to his coworkers in the lunch room and sighed.

"That ass really keeps me running around. Can't he do anything himself?"

His colleagues just murmured a bit, knowing full well he would have made his assistant do the exact same if he had become CEO.

"I mean, I get it. If I were a sweaty pig like him I would be lazy as well right, but fucking hell get your ass up man."

The room fell dead silent.

Thomas looked at his coworkers with confusion.

"So that's what you think of me Tommy"

Mr. Abdul was standing right behind Thomas. His face was calm, but the tone of his voice was grim and serious.

"Stop fucking calling me Tommy. It's Thomas…" he turned as he said it, making eye contact and immediately the blood drained from his face. The room was so quiet that you could hear the traffic, even through the triple layered windows.

"Office, now" Mr. Abdul commanded and Thomas shot up, almost running out the lunch room.

When inside, Mr. Abdul slammed the door shut, and locked it with a key on his keychain.

Thomas was frozen in the middle of the room. Mr Abdul sat down in his chair and sighed.

"What is your problem with me Tommy?"

"I… I don't have a problem sir." Tommy stammered. He stared at the floor while Mr. Abdul was speaking.

"You have been rude and, quite frankly, downright racist since I got here. You may not show it to me, but I have heard complaints from your colleagues, and from HR from before I even got here."

Thomas had a hard time focusing on what Mr. Abdul was saying. It's not that he didn't want to, but the room was filled with this amazing and arousing smell.

"THOMAS"

Mr. Abdul shouted and Thomas looked up.

"I'm sorry sir. I'm listening, I just…" Thomas fell silent. Sitting in his chair, Mr. Abdul had unbuttoned his shirt, and his broad, bulky and hairy torso was in full view.

Thomas's mouth hung agape, a small droplet of drool seeping from the corner.

"I said, come here"

Thomas wanted to object but his legs began moving towards the desk before he could stop them. He walked around the desk, stopping just in front of his boss. The strong smell filled his nostrils, his mind going blank.

"Come sit on my lap." Mr. Abduls voice had turned calm, almost seductive even, and Thomas couldn't help but follow his command.

Mr. Abdul put his arm around him and smiled. He put one hand behind his head, the erotic scent only becoming stronger.

"Sir… I…" Thomas wanted to stand up, leave, from this disgusting scene. Instead, he found himself leaning closer and closer to the exposed pit of his boss.

A few inches before he made contact and stopped, his eyes drifting upward, looking Mr. Abdul in the eyes. He only nodded.

This sent Thomas over the edge. He buried his face into Mr. Abduls pit sniffing up the fresh musk, lapping up any drops of sweat he could find. Inside his head he was screaming. How humiliating, how degrading, how…

"You're such a good boy aren't you" Thomas's mind cleared. The turmoil and rage fell silent. Instead his head filled with a feeling of fulfillment and bliss.

"I think you're finally ready. I haven't been satisfied with your performance, but perhaps that will change." Mr. Abdul smiled as he pressed Thomas's head back into his pit.

"Now, take a deep breath boy. And keep it in there for a while." Tommy did just that. He inhaled deeply and held his breath.

The musk immediately started to have an effect on his body. Slowly, his skin started to even out. Any blemish or wrinkle got ironed out, making him appear years younger.

"Now keep it up oglan, deep breaths"

Tommy took another deep breath. He began to squirm a little, his buttoned shirt getting quite tight all of a sudden. His slouched shoulders straightened up, getting broader each second. Before long his shirt was almost skin-tight on his body. Mr Abdul grinned and Tommy took another breath. His shirt exploded. His broad shoulders rounded out with pounds of muscle. His arms quickly followed. His biceps and triceps pulsed, and grew. They were almost as big as his head!

After taking another deep breath his flabby stomach began to tighten. Layers of fat started to melt and move around his body. His arms got even bigger with a small added layer of fat, while his stomach became home to rows of tight, abs. Mr Abdul's hand slid down Tommy's back, down to his glutes, which were in the process of expanding themselves. The previously unimpressive, fat filled office worker ass, became a beautifully sculpted bubble but. Mr Abdul sank his hands in them, and Tommy let out a soft moan.

"That's it oglan. How do you like my pit."

"It… it's so good... sir…"

"You don't have to call me sir when we're alone, oglan."

"Y-yes… Daddy"

Mr. Abdul smirked.

"Now let's give you something new." Tommy pulled his head out of the pit and looked at Mr. Abdul, his face had lost a few years, and his eyes were vacant, no thought behind them.

Mr Abdul took off his shoes, and slowly pushed Tommy down. The smell emanating from his big feet was intense. His pits had been ripe, but now completely paled in comparison. Tommy eagerly went along and took a whiff of his bosses feet. After taking a few deep breaths, a strong itch spread across his smooth chest. While absentmindedly scratching it he felt thick hairs brushing up against his fingers. Mr. Abul grinned as he watched the forest of hair spread. He took his other foot and rubbed it against the soft carpet of hair, leaving behind a permanent mark of musk. Tommy took the sock of one of Mr. Abdul's feet and began licking and sucking on his toes. With each lick, his pecs began to swell. His fat old man moobs quickly started to look and feel like strong masculine pecs, every aggressive lick made them sway and jiggle. A quick pinch of his nipples send him into a moaning fit, revealing their sensitivity.

Tommy grabbed the other foot, and deeply inhaled. His legs quickly expanded, blasting the dress pants to bits. Quads that could crush a watermelon rested on top of thick calves. His feet burst out of the expensive shoes he was wearing, a domineering size 12.

"That's already so much better boy, come here." Mr. Abdul motioned Tommy to move back up, and as his boy did, he took him by the chin and pulled him up to his face, and locked lips with him. Mr. Abduls strong tongue forced his way into Tommy's mouth, beginning the final stages of the transformation.

Tommy moaned and groaned as his facial features began to change and shift. His round and putty looking face began to sharpen. His rounded jawline became strong and squared, his nose grew a bit bigger, and his lips became more plump. His eyebrows grew bushy and stern, while his eyes softened a bit. A heavy itch ran across his new jawline and a thick beard quickly grew in. Mr. Abdul ran a hand over his balding scalp and thick, black locks of hair sprouted from the once middle aged man's head.

At the same time a wave of color washed over the white man's skin. A tan fitting of an Arabian hunk, his skin glistening with sweat, shone in the sunlight coming from the large windows of the office.

With his free hand, Mr Abdul grabbed Tommy's undersized bulge, and began to massage it. Waves of pleasure ran through the hunks body, his undersized rod quickly growing in size. At the same time However it didn't quite seem to get hard. That was at least until it reached a massive 10 inches. Seems he was a shower not a grower. While his dick was growing, his balls had filled with a massive amount of cum. They had grown to the size of tangerines, and his dick was leaking into his tighty whities.

"You only cum when I tell you to, boy."

Tommy nodded.

"Are you ready to leave your old life behind, and become an Arab boy for your daddy?"

"Y-yes… yes sir please."

Mr. Abdul continued to grope Tommy´s ever growing bulge, his balls churning, growing and sagging, every aspect of his life condensing into the thick, salty solution.

“P-please… Baba… I need to cum”

Mr. Abdul grinned.

“Cum for Baba, boy.”

Tommy threw his head back as his massive rod began spewing out rope after rope of seed into his underwear. His deep moans echoing against the walls off the office. The small wet spot that had appeared due to his leaky cock quickly started to spread. Before long his whole underwear was drenched, and he was still shooting. All his memories drained from his balls into his soaking underwear, dripping alongside his leg. Mr. Abdul ran a finger across his boy's leg and swiped up a big swab of seed. He slowly took his finger in his mouth and savored the taste of his new plaything.

“You taste amazing Ayaz” He ran his hands across the sculpted back of his boy, and smiled.

Ayaz looked up, his dim eyes filling with light and energy. “Thank you Baba!” he said with a big grin.

“Now go get yourself cleaned up. I want you back here in an hour.”

“Yes sir!” Ayaz got serious again. Mr. Abdul liked that about his boys. They knew when to switch back into work mode and were very good at what they did. Mr. Abdul threw Ayaz a new suit, no underwear of course, which Ayaz quickly put on. His obscenely large bulge didn't leave much to the imagination, but then again, his whole body was basically for show in the tight suit.

________________________________________

The department was happy with the new figures the CEO was producing over the past weeks. He had been able to almost triple their profits in only a few weeks time. Mr. Abdul told HR it was due to his lovely assistant Ayaz, who had kept track of all the work and kept the clients very, very happy.

Ayaz was also very happy. He was able to live a luxurious life due to both his massive paycheck and his boss being his Daddy. He was of course a hard worker, but having almost two full incomes also definitely helps. He spends most of his time outside of work going to the gym to keep his daddy happy or participating in some… lets call it lucrative occupational activities. Again Mr. Abduls assistant keeps the clients very, very happy.

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Sabine and Ezra do their best to enjoy a rare day off at home as their daughter, Mira, begins her days in the Academy. But, as it always is with these two, things are never that simple for this star-crossed pair . . .

Day 1, SabezraWeek2024 Prompt: Slice of Life - Domestic Sabezra

@sabezraweek

I used to be a morning person.

In the early days, back when I was still on the Ghost with Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Ezra, I relished being the first person awake during our long travels around the galaxy. Walking into the communal area, brewing up a fresh mug of caf, and then sitting in the Phantom alone, watching the stars pass by in silence. It was such a brief respite from the general chaos of our everyday existence, fighting a war against an implacable foe than never seemed to falter in its cruelty.

(Well, technically, I was the first person awake. Hera never really seemed to sleep, always tinkering with her ship at odd hours.)

Even back then, being involved in a war for our survival, I couldn't resist against the sense of optimism that flowed into me, looking out at the vastness of space. I felt young and invincible, able to shape the future as I saw fit.

There was no challenge that Sabine Wren, Mandalorian, could overcome.

But now . . .

A sharp series of pokes at my cheek, accompanied by giggling.

"Papa, I don't think she's going to wake up." My daughter, Mira, attempting to rouse me from my slumber.

My husband's voice, intimately familiar and filled with easy-going humor, replied in an amused tone. "Try the other cheek, maybe?"

Deciding to be playful, I let out a noise that some would unwisely call a snore. This was shortly joined by more giggling from my daughter.

I felt some pressure on my other cheek - and then, with lightning quick reflexes, snatched my daughter into a bear hug. "Aaaahhhhhh!" I growled. "Who dares disturb my precious sleep?"

The giggling erupted into squeals of laughter, bright and lively. "Mama!" Mira said, as I rolled around with her on my bed. "You're finally awake."

I peppered her face with kisses. "All thanks to you, little one. As punishment, I give you death by a thousand kisses."

"Gross! Papa, help me out here," complained Mira.

My husband, Ezra, stood at the side of our bed, dressed in casual sleepwear. His hair was still a little floofy from sleep, along with rumpled clothes. In the early morning hours, it was undeniably an extremely attractive look - well, at least it was to me, which is all that mattered. He stroked his beard, recently trimmed, looking thoughtful.

"Actions have consequences, cyare," he said sadly. "I'm afraid that's a fact of life."

Mira wriggled out of my embrace to glare at her father. "This was your idea, Papa," she retorted.

"Was it? I can't recall. Must be my old age."

I snorted and sat up in bed. "Is it time?" I asked.

My daughter looked at me, annoyance momentarily dropped. "Yes. Leaving for the Academy today."

"Soon, I might add," Ezra stated. He looked at his chrono. "Head over to the refresher, Mira. Let's get you ready now."

I stroked her hair, suddenly overcome with emotion. It seemed only yesterday that a medical droid had handed her to me, so tiny and fierce with life, swaddled in a blanket. The labor had been long and arduous, full of unexpected complications, but holding her in my arms afterwards - the ultimate manifestation of the love shared between myself and Ezra - was one of the happiest moments in my entire life.

She was our heart in physical form, stepping outside our chests into the big, wide galaxy. I knew we couldn't protect her forever, much as I wished sometimes to just lock her inside the comm-tower - she needed to spread her wings at some time.

I just wished it hadn't come so quickly. If only I had more time . . .

My thoughts wandered towards my late mother and father. Did they feel this way when Tristan and I started making our own way through life? Making choices that caused our paths to diverge far, far from home?

"Mama?" asked Mira, her voice worried. She stared curiously at me, her features a mix of Ezra and mine; I saw his smile at times, bright and guileless, but her eyes flashed briefly with a fire that reminded me all too well of my own - and my late mother's.

"Are you okay? You look sad."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. "It's a happy kind of sad, cyare. You grew up on us so fast, little one."

Mira smiled. "I'm a kid. That's what I'm supposed to do."

I laughed and pulled her into a big hug. "And you're doing such a great job of it."

Ezra seemed more composed than I did, but I felt through our bond in the Force that he was going through the same emotional turbulence I was. His tone was gentle as he said, "Mira, it's time. Say good-bye to your mother now."

My daughter gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek and sprinted out the door. Ezra looked at me. "Are you going to be alright?"

I sniffed. Allergies, I told myself.

Sure, Sabine.

"No," I admitted. "I just thought . . ."

"That today would take longer to get here?" Ezra said, finishing my train of thought. "I feel the same way, Sabine."

I reached out to grasp his hand. He squeezed it affectionately. "You get it."

"She's with us for only a little time," Ezra said quietly. "Let's just enjoy it while we can."

I couldn't say anything to that. I heard someone say once that children are a gift that are loaned to us for only a little while. At some point, we had to let them go find their own way.

Why is the last act of love always letting go, I wondered.

He leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead before leaving to attend to our daughter. "Get some more sleep," he said. "I'll see you after I drop her off."

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke an hour later to the rich aroma of freshly brewed caf. Shuffling out of the bedroom, I found Ezra in the kitchen with a mug of my favorite beverage.

I accepted it gratefully and collapsed onto the couch. Murley sauntered by, brushing his face against my legs - a regular routine for him, since the act resulted in his daily allowance of petting. With fond annoyance, I reached down to do so.

Once he was satisfied, the mangy loth-cat let out a purr as thanks and stepped away to find a warm spot to doze in.

"You live such a charmed life," I noted.

Ezra joined me on the couch, a bowl of freshly sliced golden plait-fruit, berries, and meilooruns on his lap. My stomach growled at the sight.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I held back from snatching the bowl from his lap. "You have to ask?" I said, trying not to sound like a hungry loth-wolf.

My husband grinned. "No. But it's fun to do so."

He picked at a slice of fruit and popped it into my open mouth. I chewed slowly, savoring the fresh fruit. In between bites, I finished my caf, and leaned my head onto Ezra's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked. My voice was still slurred slightly, a result of not fully being awake yet - the caf had yet to take effect.

I felt Ezra shift uncomfortably on the couch. "Well . . ."

I groaned. "Is that today?" I asked. "I thought it wasn't for another week, at least."

"Hey," Ezra retorted. "It was your idea. You said we shouldn't put off cleaning and maintenance any longer. This was the day we both agreed upon."

I grimaced. He was right. Ezra was a Jedi Knight, which came with enormous responsibilities, and Bo-Katan - the current leader of Mandalore - always needed my help corralling the clans into focusing on rebuilding our home world instead of warring against each other.

Add all that with the time-consuming demands of being a parent, meant that the comm-tower we called home had fallen into disrepair. We made it work; it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that meant some things fell through the cracks.

"I've changed my mind," I said promptly. "Let's wait another week."

"Sabine," he said patiently. "We have a pile of dirty laundry that is literally taller than our daughter. It needs to be done."

I really did not want to clean the comm-tower. Ezra and I had been so busy over the past few months and with Mira finally out of the house starting Academy, we finally had some alone time.

I had needs that had to be addressed.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, I thought.

With a firm hand, I turned his face gently towards me. His expression was curious, a question presumably about to be asked but I had already pressed my lips hungrily against his.

There was a moment of surprised silence before he melted into it, his need rising to meet mine. I pushed gently against his frame, and we fell gently onto the couch, still kissing passionately.

"Sabine," he groaned. "We have so much to do today."

"We do," I agreed, tracing a line of smooches down his cheek, his neck, aiming to make my way further down into more enticing territory. "So, it would be best if we finish this first so that our focus can be fully on the chores."

His voice dropped into a husky growl, signaling that I had won this particular battle. "You are incorrigible," he huffed out.

I was in the middle of pulling his shirt off as he spoke. "Oh?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Should I stop?"

He glared at me. "Come here."

I lowered my face to his, holding back laughter.

Ezra grinned and he pulled me into a warm embrace, kissing and making me breathless; making me feel alive.

_ _ _ _ _

True to my word, I was locked in on the chores after we finished.

Ezra puttered around the house, cleaning up the various debris littering the floors first before putting in the hard work of sweeping, dusting, and mopping to make sure our home was habitable again.

Meanwhile, I focused on the maintenance: checking the electrical systems, the power generators, and communications array.

Early on in our relationship, we had figured out a good system to handling the daily mundane tasks of everyday life. Ezra had clocked immediately that I hated cleaning; something that shouldn't have surprised him, given our prior co-habitation on the Ghost.

When I had poked him about it, since he had visited my room countless times, he pointed out that we were at war with the Empire during that period.

"I assumed that was the reason," he muttered, after seeing my incredulous expression. "I didn't know that was your default state, Sabine."

"It would have been," I admitted. "If Hera and Kanan hadn't kept being annoyingly persistent about cleaning up after myself."

Meanwhile, I had realized that Ezra lacked the mechanical knowledge and expertise that had been ingrained into me since birth - which, if we lived in a normal state-of-the-art apartment complex in Capital City, wouldn't be necessary.

But we had decided to stay in the old comm-tower instead. During long years of isolation and loneliness, the aging structure had served as home for both of us. It was an easy choice, one of the first we made together as a couple.

But that meant someone had to look after and maintain it. Which meant me.

Parts for upkeep were increasingly rare since the comm-tower was already past its prime during the Empire's reign, as the last of its line of communications towers before being phased out of service. When the Empire came to power, this proved to be a boon to the Bridgers, since the outdated machinery meant that it was overlooked during the initial Imperial survey of Lothal's resources - and continued to be so when their son claimed it as refuge after they were taken.

Because of the rarity of parts for use, that meant I had to regularly scavenge in junkyards across the galaxy to find components that could be used. My husband was competent in quite a few forms of mechanical repair, but the tower was a long-term care project and required the kind of ingenuity and complexity that he simply wasn't equipped with.

And I really, really did not like to clean.

So, the bargain was struck - I handled maintenance, he handled cleaning. It was a good deal which enabled us to avoid arguments and turn our attention and energy to more pressing matters (like what we had just done on the couch.)

I was on my back, dressed in an old flight suit borrowed from Hera, covered in old grease and spatters of oil, halfway inserted into an open vent that led to a circuit board that controlled the flow of our air conditioning. It sparked erratically mere inches from my eyes, which were safely shielded behind a pair of mechanic's goggles (also from Hera, but she didn't know that I had them).

I frowned, holding back a curse. This circuit board had been a problem since I had procured it from a shady Quarren vendor on Kijimi. But the discount he had offered was too good to pass up.

I see now why it was so cheap, I thought grimly. Should have known better, di'kut.

There was a nudge at my foot. I peered out to see the face of my husband, looking concerned, holding a large trash bag full of -

"Is that hair?" I asked, shocked. "That can't be all hair, Ezra."

He gave a faint look of disgust and shook the bag's contents. "Afraid so. I can't tell if this all Murley's or if Mira's been letting in some of his feral friends while we haven't been paying attention."

I craned my neck to find the accused in question and found Murley, our resident loth-cat and menace, taking up his usual place on my personal tool bench. He was watching us with curious eyes.

I pointed my electric torch at him. "Stop loafing around and help out. I don't let you squat here just to be cute and keep us company, you know."

Murley mewled in what I construed to be polite disagreement.

I wagged the torch aggressively to emphasize my next statement. "I'll kick you out," I promised. "For real this time."

The loth-cat blinked - and then proceeded to cough up a disgusting hair ball.

Ezra sighed. "Great. I have to clean up that now."

"He has his charms," I said, grinning.

He folded his arms, annoyed. "Which are . . .?"

"Well," I said. "For one, he does remind me of a certain handsome Jedi."

Ezra squatted down to me, a slight smile breaking through his annoyance. "Oh, does he?"

I reached up to stroke my husband's face affectionately. "Why do you think I kept him around so long?"

"Figured it was the other way around. He was hard to get rid of."

"So were you," I pointed out. "Seems like I have a penchant for being liked by strays."

He leaned into my touch - and then laughed when my stomach growled hideously.

Feeling my face flush, I went scooted back into the open maintenance shaft.

"Guess it's feeding time," Ezra chuckled. "What are you in the mood for?"

Trying - and failing - to sound nonchalant about the egregious announcement of my bodily functions, I answered, "Two Bantha burgers, large fries, and a meiloorun smoothie."

"I'm assuming both of those are for - "

"Me, yeah," I grunted, stifling the mild spike of annoyance. My hunger was finally making itself known after an hour of toiling away in the mechanical guts of our home and I felt it begin to poison my jovial mood.

"So, that will be three bantha burgers, large fries, and two smoothies, then. From Paldo's?"

Paldo's. My favorite local fast-food diner in Capital City run by an elderly Twi'lek named, you guessed it, Paldo. I was considered royalty by the manager there, much to my husband's amusement. There was even a framed picture of me on the wall, first thing you saw when walking inside. Mira always laughed with delight whenever she accompanied me for a meal.

"Yup," I said.

He eyed me. "I don't understand where you put all that food."

I gestured proudly at myself. Years of hard work, battle, and a stressful childbirth and yet my figure was still in top form for my age. "It's all in the genes, cyar'ika."

"Is that so," Ezra said dryly. "And are those same genes the reason why you eat like a newborn rancor, my cyar'ika?"

"No. That was the result of being raised with a brother, as you know."

"Oh, I do know," Ezra replied. "I met him, remember? Poor Tristan was all skin and bones, if I recall."

I swatted at him. He let out a bark of laughter and pivoted to the side, avoiding my hit. "Go get my food, husband mine. Or you'll see how a baby rancor reacts when deprived of sustenance."

With a teasing grin, he gave a mock salute and headed for the elevator. A minute later, I heard the tell-tale grumble of a speeder engine starting and then the familiar swoop sound as it sped off into the distance towards Capital City.

Sighing, I returned to my repairs -

A chime came from the communications console, indicating a visitor.

I frowned. Had Ezra returned already? I didn't hear the speeder.

I got up and walked towards the console to press the intercom. "Did you forget your credit chip, di'kut?"

The response was laced with sardonic amusement. "Hello, Wren. It's been a while."

I froze at the voice, familiar but not in a way that invoked pleasant feelings; it was familiar in the way that a warrior knew the sound of a knife escaping its sheath or the sound of a blaster powering on.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. Already my mind was racing, racing with horrible thoughts of Ezra and Mira.

"There's something I need to show you. May I come up?"

"No," I said firmly. "I'll come down to you."

"Sure," she replied. "It will be like old times."

I grab my lightsaber off a nearby work bench before heading down to see why Shin Hati had come to visit.

_ _ _ _ _

I have nightmares about this sometimes.

In my nightmares, she and I are dueling again. That cold night, years ago, after I had just unlocked the map to Ezra.

I beat the assassin droids and give chase to her, like always. She is wrapped in a cloak, blacker than the night surrounding us.

Her lightsaber blazes scarlet in the dark courtyard. I activate my own - and strike, my emerald meeting her scarlet in a blaze of sparks.

And then, in the nightmare, I stumble. My blade swings wide and I am left defenseless for a critical second.

Shin's blade comes down in a vicious arc, right through my exposed neck.

And I wake up, in a cold sweat. Ezra doesn't ask, he doesn't need to. He just wraps me in his arms and gently lulls me back to sleep.

This isn't my nightmare, however. But a part of me still feels the hot blaze of a blade made from pure plasma erupting in my gut.

Shin Hati stands across me in the tower's courtyard in broad daylight. Next to her is a speeder, sleek and shiny with fresh chrome. She's dressed in gray combat fatigues with a black bolero jacket worn over it. Her platinum blonde hair is longer now, tied into a short ponytail.

I probably don't look all that intimidating to her, now that I think about it, covered in an old flight uniform that's seen better days. But I hope the lightsaber hilt gripped in my hand is enough to make her cautious, at the very least.

Her eyes pierce mine with a wolfish stare. Finally, she shakes her head. "Well, you didn't have to dress up for me," she said.

"You should have called ahead," I replied. I made sure that my thumb was right over the activation switch on the lightsaber hilt. "I would have freshened up."

Shin cocked her head. "Thinking about it now, you didn't look that good last time we met like this."

She smirked. "Remember?"

An old searing pain ached in my abdomen. The scar.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

She slowly pulls from her jacket a holo-puck. "You need to see this."

"Toss it to me."

Shin complied. I caught it deftly, my eyes never leaving her face. She didn't move immediately for a weapon. I felt some of the tension drain from me - but not much.

"Play it," she urged.

I did so. The holo-puck emitted a recording, the blue static focusing into something sharper -

Something in my chest tightened and I felt myself inhale sharply. The recording was of Ezra and Mira.

From this morning. I watched the miniature holographic forms of my husband and child play out for a few more seconds - Ezra giving our daughter a hug before waving her off to the Academy - before the recording fizzled out in a shower of sparks.

I winced, dropping it. I realized a second later, seeing the warped and twisted metal, that I had squeezed it so hard that it broke.

I looked back at Shin. Something in my face must have spooked her because the former mercenary took a step back with her hands up, palms facing outward, in a placating gesture. "Wren, I promise. This was not me."

"Who?" I asked. The voice that came out was cold, colder than a winter on Krownest.

"Bothan private investigator. Their name - "

"I don't care for a name," I hissed. "Where are they right now?"

"I took care of them. They won't be following your family anymore," Shin said quickly. "But, more importantly, their employer is someone you know."

My teeth ground against each other in frustration. "Say it."

"Senator Xiono. He hasn't given up his personal crusade against you and your husband."

My stomach dropped at the name. Xiono.

He had already been a paranoid, suspicious politician before Thrawn had returned. The Imperial warlord's campaign against the New Republic had brought his planet's people nearly to ruin - and his wife had suffered grievously during the Grand Admiral's bombardment. Beset with grief and rage, the senator had railed against the Security Council for their failings - and had taken up a special fixation on myself and Ezra, who were caught in the middle of that mess.

There were only a handful of people who were aware of my involvement in Thrawn's return: Ezra, Hera, Leia, Zeb, Kallus, Ahsoka, and Chopper (no one actually told the astromech, he just figured it out all by himself). All had sworn to keep it secret, to protect me - despite my insistence against doing so.

But Xiono never gave up his line of inquiry, I knew. Chancellor Mothma had strong armed him to stay in line, but I always suspected that he continued to probe whenever he could.

The senator blamed Ezra and myself for what had happened to his home planet - to his family.

And he wasn't entirely wrong, a dark voice whispered in my mind.

But this was a new low.

My anger threatened to erupt from my chest, bellowing and screaming to the Lothal sky with all my pent-up rage.

Shaking, I asked Shin, "Why are you helping me?'

"I'm not helping you," she said, watching me carefully. "Your daughter deserves to have a family. I would not see her lose either of you, if it was within my power to prevent it."

I blinked, my rage momentarily forgotten. "I . . . I really don't know what to say."

Shin shrugged. "My job here is done, then." She took out her comm-link and proceeded to input a series of commands.

My own comm-link, hanging off my belt, chirped with an alert that a message had been received. I checked it quickly.

"What is this?"

"A place and a time," she responded. "The senator is expecting to meet his private investigator there. I thought you might like to meet him instead."

I considered briefly what Ezra would think. But he wasn't here.

"Thank you," I said. The rage came swarming up again, hot and eager. "I think I will."

_ _ _ _ _

The establishment was on the seedier side of Capital City. A dive, made from the wreckage of several TIE fighters clumped together, that served pirates, drunkards, and other sentient beings of dubious repute.

It was the perfect place for an incognito meeting, considering all the noise and ruckus.

A cloaked figure made his way hurriedly through the crowd, heading for a stone table enclosed in a dimly lit booth on the opposite side of the room. Another figure, slender and hooded, waved him over.

With the utmost discretion, Senator Xiono slid into the booth, huffing slightly. "This update had better have something good," he snarled to the booth's other occupant. "My contacts said you were one of the best, and I have yet to see anything of interest other than what color shoes Wren and Bridger's daughter wears to school!"

I lowered my hood. "I'm sorry you find my family so boring, Senator," I said.

To his credit, Xiono did not scream. His face went bloodless and pale, his lip trembled, his eyes widened - but the man was otherwise quite still.

Somewhere, amidst the storm of rage swirling inside me, I felt mildly impressed.

"Wren," he whispered. "Why are you - "

I placed my hands on the table with a gentle thump. Finally, he flinched.

I smiled, showing my teeth. "Do you read Mandalorian literature, Senator?"

He stared at me - and then, the faintest of sneers appeared on his face. "I wasn't aware your people had literature."

The sneer told me that he had been emboldened by my empty hands. But there were other ways to make someone afraid, I knew.

I nodded. "That's a fair point. Most of it was lost in the Purge. But the best stories always survive through word of mouth. Have you heard of the great Mandalorian warrior of legend named Akilles?"

"I have not." The disdain dripped off his tone, so thick I could almost see it congealing on his lips.

"Shame. You see, Akilles had a friend - another great warrior. One day, he found out that his friend had a mortal enemy, who swore to vanquish them. Akilles, upon finding out, proclaimed that there is no greater enemy than the enemy of his friend."

The ghost of a smile twitched on the senator's face. "Well, it seems that this Akilles and I agree on that."

I let my smile widen, showing more teeth. "Akilles went to confront the mortal enemy of his friend. And he gave him one warning."

I leaned forward; Xiono leaned back, as far as the booth would allow him. It wasn't much.

"There is no weapon; no army that can protect this enemy from the sheer hell that is Akilles rage."

"And," Xiono whispered carefully, "what happened to this enemy?"

"Akilles ran his sword through his gut. And then dragged his dead body throughout the streets of Sundari."

A chill silence fell between us in the booth, only interrupted by the occasional burst of laughter and conversation from the other diners.

The senator swallowed hard, his eye twitching. "What . . . might this enemy have done differently to avoid such a fate?"

I seized the front of his cloak and pulled him half across the table. He yelped, his hands scrambling, clawing for freedom but I ignored his feeble attempts at defense.

I stared into his wide eyes, unblinking. The fury within me seethed and poured molten fire into my next words.

"He could have left the planet. When he still had the chance." At the last word, I threw him back into his seat. He sagged, whimpering something incomprehensible.

I swept from the booth and went home.

_ _ _ _ _

"Mama!" yelled Mira, as I stepped from the turbolift. My daughter jumped into my arms.

"Hello, cyare," I said, squeezing her close. "How was the Academy?"

"It was a lot more fun than I thought. Made lots of friends - and a couple enemies, too," she added, almost as an afterthought.

I looked to Ezra. He shrugged. "I've already gotten some reports from the principal. She was standing up to some bullies."

I sighed and ruffled her hair. "It's a Wren specialty to have some archenemies wherever we go," I noted to him.

He snorted. "Don't I know it."

Mira squinted at me. "What's an 'arch-nemony'?"

I poked her in the forehead. "What, they didn't teach you that in linguistics class? Or, let me guess, you were too busy doodling in your sketchbook to pay attention?"

My daughter scrambled from my embrace. "I just remembered that I have to do homework. Gotta go now!"

I shook my head, amazed at her speed. "Never seen her so excited to do homework. She's hiding something."

"Yup," Ezra said. He glanced at me. "She's not the only one."

I kept my face still, turning to hang my cloak on a nearby coat hook. "What do you mean?"

"Sabine," said Ezra patiently. "Don't hide things from me. It doesn't work."

I scowled at him. "You know, sometimes it sucks being married to a Jedi."

"It's not the Jedi part that's telling me you're hiding something. It's the husband part."

He folded his arms. "Out with it. You were acting weird after lunch and then you vanished with barely a word."

I looked at the door leading to my daughter's room, biting my lip. "Can we talk about this outside? I don't want Mira to hear this."

I felt Ezra's worry rise considerably at my request, but his expression remained calm. "Of course."

Once we stepped outside, I spilled everything to Ezra. All of it.

When I finished, he let out a hiss of air and leaned against the balcony railing.

I went next to him, looking out over the view of Lothal's plains of grass and the glowing lights of Capital City in the distance.

"Bad, I know," I said quietly.

He reached out to take my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We can handle it. But next time, let's do it together, okay?"

As always, my husband's simple enduring faith in a better tomorrow continued to surprise me. "You're not mad?"

He snorted. "Mad at what, Sabine? You being yourself?"

I looked at him, smiling slightly. "You agree with what I did?"

He grimaced. "No . . . but I get why you did it."

My husband gave me a knowing look. "It won't keep him quiet for long. This will just fuel him to dig harder."

I nodded. "I know."

My voice hardened. "But he needed to know, Ezra. What it means to cross my family. Maybe, at least, he'll aim his fury at me next time - and not at you and Mira."

Ezra stood to look me directly in the eye. "Our family, Sabine. Promise me you won't go after him again. Not by yourself."

"I can't - I can't lose you. Either of you," I pleaded. "I can't bear it."

"It won't happen. If he comes after us again, we will face it together. I want your word, Sabine. Swear to me."

I let out a shuddering breath, feeling all the negative emotions escape with it. Then, quietly, I reached out for his hand and brought it to my heart. "I swear on my word and my honor as a Mandalorian," I said.

His blue eyes searched mine - and he nodded once, satisfied. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," I said. "What I did, all those years ago - it won't ever stop haunting us, will it."

"Don't be sorry," he replied softly. “You are worth it. Always. We will find a way."

I didn't know what else to say. I just hugged him close.

We stayed that way for a while, swaying gently with the evening breeze.

Then: "Ewwwwww."

I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?"

"It's finished," Mira said, sounding bored. "I want to play now."

Ezra smiled, shaking his head. "Too smart for her own good," he muttered to me.

"No such thing," I said, mildly offended. "Too smart for her own peace of mind, well, that's a more factual statement."

"And our own," he added.

I grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

"Nope." His smile lessened for a moment. "We had such a busy day. I'm sorry you didn't get a quiet night, like you wanted."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Ah, this is much better. There will be other nights."

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," I said. And we went inside, together.

_ _ _ _ _

I used to be a morning person.

I used to relish being awake in the early morning, watching the galaxy stream by in lines of stars, feeling invincible and young.

I watch my husband and young daughter sleep on the couch, her body sprawled across his lap in the boneless way that only youth can manage.

I don't feel young anymore. Or invincible.

I've traded that away for this. And, yes, it brings fear, and heartache, and the seeds of future joy.

That's life, as I've come to learn. Today was an odd day, full of challenging events, both big and small.

And it was not yet over. I snuggle close to my family - my two hearts, beating in quiet rhythm with one another - and prepare to fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day. And I will meet it with both of them.

[cherrythepuppet]

puppets before Christmas [Part 4 and a half]

Its a 4 and a half because I'm lazy and only did half the work ha ha @cloudy-dreams

"It goes something like this” (Y/n) Said as they played the theme of jingle bells on a pair of bells “How about it? Think ” (Y/n) asked “A one, and a two, and…” The band then began playing Jingle bells in a flat-key

Then Howdy yelled “Next!” and the band left while Wally came “Wally!” I need your help more than anyone's!” (Y/n) Exclaimed

“You certainly do, (Y/n)! I had the most terrible vision!” Wally said“That's splendid” (Y/n) Replied “No, it was about your Xmas. There was smoke and fire!-” Wally was cut off

“That’s not my Xmas! My Xmas is filled with laughter and joy and this--my Christmas outfit. I want you to make it!” (Y/n) Told him“(Y/n)!, please, listen to me--it's going to be a disaster!” Wally yelled

“How could it be--just follow the pattern. This part is red, the trim is white” (Y/n) Said, “It's a mistake, (Y/n)!” Wally groaned“Now don't be modest, who else is clever enough to make my Christmas outfit?” (Y/n) Chuckled

“Next!” Howdy yelled “I have every confidence in you!” (Y/n) Smiled at Wally“But it seems wrong to me, very wrong…” Wally mumbled before he walked away and Home’s Henchpeople came

“(Y/n)! we caught her! we caught her!” Julie exclaimed as Eddie and Frank dragged in a large sack that resembled a body bag- “Perfect! Open it up Quickly!” (Y/n) said Frank opened the bag and the Easter bunny popped out ‘That's not Wally Claws!” (Y/n) told them

“It isn't?” Eddie asked, “Who is it?” Julie asked, “Not Sally Claws...take them back!” (Y/n) yelled “But We followed your instructions-” Julie was cut off “We went through the door-” Frank was cut off

“Which door? There's more than one. Sally Claws is behind the door shaped like this!” (Y/n) told them while showing them a Xmas cookie in shape of tree“I told you!” Frank yelled as Julie hit his arm and then the two began fighting as Eddie stood there like an awkward teenager, (Y/n) Sighed before stretching out their face and screaming

Frank and Julie instantly stopped fighting but Julie stuck her tongue out at Frank, As Frank was about to say something Eddie grabbed his hand“I'm very sorry for the inconvenience, sir. Take him home first and apologize again” (Y/n) said while Eddie, Julie, and Frank began dragging the easter bunny back “Be careful with Sally Claws when you fetch her. Treat her nicely!” (Y/n) Called out

~

“You will be a decided improvement over that treacherous Wally” Poppy grumbled as she was looking at blueprints “Poppy, the plans!” her assistant said while they placed a different set of blueprints on the table“Excellent” Poppy replied

~

“This time, this time” “Making Christmas” “Making Christmas” “Making Christmas, making Christmas Is so fine” “it's ours this time, And won't the children be surprised It's ours this time” “Making Christmas”

“Making Christmas” “Making Christmas” “Time to give them something fun” “They'll talk about for years to come” “Let's have a cheer from everyone It's time to party” “Making Christmas, making Christmas”

“Snakes and mice get wrapped up so nice With spider legs and pretty bows” “It's ours this time” “All together, that and this “With all our tricks we're” “Making Christmastime” “Here comes (Y/n)!”

“I don't believe what's happening to me My hopes, my dreams, my fantasies! Hee, hee, hee, hee!”

“Won't they be impressed, I am a genius See how I transformed this old rat Into a most delightful hat”

“Hmm, my compliments from me to you On this your most intriguing hat Consider this substitute A bat in place of this old rat Huh! No, no, no, now that's all wrong This thing will never make a present It's been dead now for much too long Try something fresher, something pleasant Try again, don't give up!”

“All together, that and this With all our tricks we're making Christmastime!” “This time, this time” “It's ours!” “Making Christmas, making Christmas La, la, la It's almost here” “And we can't wait” “So ring the bells and celebrate” “Cause when the full moon starts to climb We'll all sing out!”

“It's Christmastime! Hee, hee, hee!”

~

“Kathleen, Bobby, Susie, yes, Susie's been nice. Nice, nice, naughty, nice, nice, nice. There are hardly any naughty children this year” Sally mumbled as she read through her listThen the door chimed “Now who could that be?” Sally asked herself while she got up and then answered the door to see Eddie, Frank, and Julie

“Trick or treat!” The three exclaimed before attacking Sally and knocking her unconisoucs then shoving her in the bag “I feel bad…we just knocked out a pretty woman” Julie said

“Julie no-”

~

(Y/n) was wearing their Christmas outfit as Wally was Fixing the sleeves “You don't look like yourself (Y/n), not at all” Wally mumbled “isn't that wonderful! Why It couldn't be more wonderful!” (Y/n) grinned “But you're the Pumpkin Ruler” Wally replied “Not anymore! And I feel so much better now” (Y/n) Said

“(Y/n), I know you think something's missing. But-” Wally paused as he accidentally pricks (Y/n)'s finger with a needle “Sorry” Wally mumbled “You're right, something is missing but what? I've got the coat, the boots-” (Y/n) Was cut off by Eddie, Julie and Frank barging in

“(Y/n), (Y/n)! this time we bagged her!” They all exclaimed“This time we did!” Eddie said “She really is Sally Claws (Y/n)” Frank added “And She’s Pretty!” Julie grinned “Julie no-” Frank was cut off by Sally yelling

“Let me out!” Sally demanded as (Y/n) Opened the bag and Sally came tumbling out “Sally Claws in person! What a pleasure to meet you!” (Y/n) exclaimed while they grabbed Sally’s hand to shake “Why you have hands! You don't have claws at all!” (Y/n) mumbled

“Where am I?” Sally asked as she looked around “Surprised aren't you? I knew you would be! You don't need to have another worry about Christmas this year” (Y/n) Told her“What?!” Sally yelled “Consider this a vacation Sally, a reward! It's your turn to take it easy!” (Y/n) Said, “B-but there must be some mistake!” Sally shouted

“See that She's comfortable-” (Y/n) paused just as the three were about to knock Sally out again “Just a second fellows!” Of course, that's what I'm missing” (Y/n) finished as they took Sally’s HatJulie grabbed Sally's arm and then dragged her off

”You just can't!- Hold on where are we going now?!” Sally asked “This is worse than I thought, much worse. I know…” Wally mumbled

“Me? On vacation on Christmas Eve?!” Sally said, “Where are we taking her?” Frank asked “To Home! of course. There isn't anywhere in the whole world more comfortable than that and (Y/n) said to make her comfortable. Didn't They?” Eddie replied

“Yes, he did!” Julie grinned “Haven't you heard of peace on earth and goodwill toward Humanity?!” Sally asked “No!” The three yelled with a laugh

~

Wally was sneaking back into Poppy’s lab as Poppy slept, he went back to his room and grabbed things he thought he would need such as fake limbs and a jug of Fog juice

~

The three were laughing as they tried to get Sally down the Chute “Don't do this. Naughty children never get any presents!” Sally shouted “Her rays are in the way” Eddie said “She might not fit” He added

“If She can go down a chimney then She can fit down here!” Frank said before Julie successfully pushed Sally down the chute, Sally screamed for a moment before landing on the ground with a thud

“Well, well, well, what have we here? Sally Claws, huh? Oh, I'm really scared So you're the one everybody's talkin' about!”“ha, ha You're jokin', you're jokin' I can't believe my eyes You're jokin' me, you gotta be This can't be the right gal She's ancient, She's ugly!”

“I don't know which is worse I might just split a seam now If I don't die laughing first! You'd better pay attention now 'Cause I'm the Boogie Man And if you aren't shakin' There's something very wrong 'Cause this may be the last time You hear the Boogie song, oh!”

“Ohhh” “Ohhh” “Ohhh” Ohhh” “Ohhh, he's the Boogie Man!“Release me now Or you must face the dire consequences The children are expecting me So please, come to your senses!”

“You're jokin', you're jokin' I can't believe my ears Would someone shut this fella up I'm drownin' in my tears It's funny, I'm laughing You really are too much And now, with your permission I'm going to do my stuff!”

“What are you going to do?” “I'm gonna do the best I can Oh, the sound of rollin' dice To me is music in the air 'Cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man Although I don't play fair It's much more fun, I must confess With lives on the line Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy Now that'd be just fine!”

“Release me fast or you will have to Answer for this heinous act!” “Oh, brother, you're something You put me in a spin You aren't comprehending The position that you're in It's hopeless, you're finished You haven't got a prayer 'Cause I'm Mr. Home And you ain't going nowhere…”.....

[u10como]

Love, Toes and Pistons, part 2

The Harper family home stood on a quiet suburban street, its white picket fence and neatly trimmed hedges looking maybe too perfect, almost artificial. Riley, 18 year old girl with brown eyes and auburn hair tied in a short ponytail stood on the sidewalk, dressed in a knee-length dress and flip-flops, feeling a nervous flutter in her chest as Alex led her up the front steps, his hand gently brushing against her shoulder in reassurance.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Alex said, his easy smile a stark contrast to the way Riley felt.

“I’m not nervous,” Riley lied, biting the inside of her cheek. Her tone betrayed her, though, and Alex chuckled.

“They’ll love you,” he said. “Well, my mom will for sure. My dad... might take some warming up.”

“I can't help myself,” Riley muttered. “I really don't work well around people outside our garage.”

Alex stopped her just before they reached the door, turning to look at her seriously. “Hey, if it gets weird, we’ll leave. Okay? You’re not doing this alone.”

She gave him a small, grateful nod, though the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen.

Inside, Alex’s mom, Marianne Harper, greeted them with a warm but slightly tentative smile. She was a shortm slightly chubby woman with friendly, round face and kind eyes. Her husband, Richard, was a taller, sterner presence, his expression immediately betraying dislike from the moment he recognized Riley as the cocky mechanic who worked on his brakes before.

“Mom, Dad, this is Riley. Riley, my parents” Said Alex to introduce them.

“Hi, Mrs. Harper, Mr. Harper,” Riley said, stepping forward with a polite smile.

Marianne offered her hand for a handshake, awkwardly pausing as her eyes flicked to Riley’s shoulders, the sleeves of her T-shirt hanging flat and empty. Riley saved the situation by raising her foot, which she offered for a handshake. Marianne hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking it, her polite smile intact.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Riley,” Marianne said. “Alex has told us a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Riley replied.

Richard, however, didn’t move to greet her. His arms remained crossed over his chest, his lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze wasn’t openly hostile, but it was critical, sizing her up as if she were an applicant for a job he was sure she didn't deserve.

“So,” he said finally, his tone neutral but tinged with skepticism, “you’re that girl who worked on my Camry.”

“Yes, sir,” Riley said evenly. “Glad it’s running better now.”

He grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t offer more.

***

Few moments later, the four of them sat down to dinner, a roasted chicken and baked potatoes that Marianne had clearly put a lot of effort into. Conversation was light at first, focused on Alex’s classes and plans for college, but it didn’t take long for Richard to steer the discussion toward Riley.

“So, Riley,” he began, cutting into his chicken, pronouncing Riley's name as if it stung his tongue. “What makes you think you're a good match for my son?”

“Dad,” Alex interjected, his tone warning.

“Well, we're happy together,” Riley replied. “We actually found out we both liked each other for a long time, but were both too afraid to make the first move.”

Richard raised an eyebrow, briefly looking at Alex. “Did you, now? I get what you see in my son, we're well off and he's going to attend the best college in state, but what exactly you bring to the table, besides disability checks?”

“Dad!” Hissed Alex angrily.

“No, it’s fine,” Riley said, putting her foot reassuringly on his shoulder, her voice steady though her jaw tightened. “I can assure you, i never received a single disability check in my life - never applied, actually. I'm dealing with school well enough and i'm good at my job to have a lot of returning customers. If i'm not mistaken, your car should be enough of an evidence in that matter”

Richard leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Sure, you did a solid job on my brakes. But my son needs a housewife to take care of the household. Someone who can cook, clean and raise his kids, not some armless grease monkey.”

“Dad what the hell?!” "Richard!" shouted Alex and Marianne almost simultaneously.

The words hit Riley like a punch to the gut, though she forced her expression to remain calm. She met Richard’s gaze directly.

“With all due respect, sir,” she said, keeping her tone cool, despite gritting her teeth “Alex and I care about each other. What we do with our lives is our business and i can assure you, i've been handling stuff back home since i was little. And i've been doing that practically all by myself ever since my dad busted his leg last year.”

Marianne stepped in, sensing the rising tension. “Richard, that’s enough,” she said firmly before turning to Riley with a more apologetic expression, attempting a 5 minutes past 12 damage control. “Riley, what i think my husband is trying to say is in a really bad way is... Living with such a severe disability like yours is a challenge not only for you, but for your potential partner too. Alex is our only son, and we want to make sure he’s making choices that are best for him.”

Riley softened slightly at Marianne’s tone. “I understand, Mrs. Harper, and i don't blame you for thinking so. I can asure you, i’m not trying to take advantage of Alex or hold him back. And i am used to taking care of myself and not to lean on anyone's help. We just... Like each other, why is it so hard to understand?”

Alex reached for Riley’s foot resting on the table in front of her and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Mom, Dad, I’m not a kid. I know what I’m doing, and I know who Riley is. If you can’t see that, then you don’t know me as well as you think.” With that, he nonned to Riley and they both left the table, ignoring Richard's angry shouts and Marianne's attempts at calming him down.

***

As they left the house, the tension in Riley’s shoulders finally began to ease, but involuntary tears started welling in her eyes. Alex walked beside her, reassuring arm around her shoulders.

“Well, that went about as well as I expected,” she said dryly, fighting the urge to cry.

“Don’t let my dad get to you,” Alex said. “He’s stubborn, but he’ll come around. And my mom already likes you, i can tell.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You stood your ground and handled it like a champ. She respects that,” Alex said, grinning.

Riley gave a small smile. “Well, I’m glad someone does. Your dad’s got a ways to go, though.”

Alex stopped, turning to face her. “Hey. If my dad doesn’t get it, that’s his problem. Not ours. You’re incredible, Riley. I’ve known that since the moment I met you, and I’m not letting his opinions change that.”

Riley looked at him, her brown eyes softening. For the first time that night, the knot in her chest loosened completely.

“Thanks, Alex,” she said quietly.

He leaned in and kissed her, and for a moment, the doubts and judgments faded into the background. She looked up with teary eyes and smiled. "Come on, let's hang out at my place. No use standing here out in the streets.

***

The garage was quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead the only sound breaking the stillness. Riley and Alex sat on an old, faded loveseat tucked into the corner of the shop, its fabric stained with years of grease and hard work. Riley’s Pacer sat nearby, its hood up, waiting for new aftermarket 6-1 headers she was saving up for last few months.

Alex leaned back, his arm draped casually along the back of the couch, while Riley sat cross-legged, her foot resting lightly in his lap. His fingers were intertwined with her toes, holding them the way most people might hold a hand.

“You reall think your mom might actually like me?” asked Riley, her tone casual, but hopeful.

Alex chuckled. “I'm sure of it. She might not be the most open minded person in the world, but he's always been kind and understanding. Dad… well, he’ll come around eventually. Or he won’t, and I won’t lose sleep over it.”

Riley gave a skeptical snort. “Sure, that’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to be the one proving yourself to everyone.”

Alex squeezed her foot lightly. “You don’t have to prove anything to him, Riley. Nor to anyone else. If he can’t see how amazing you are, that’s his loss.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, pretending to study the shelves of tools across the room. “You’re way too nice to me, you know that?” she muttered.

“And you’re way too hard on yourself,” Alex countered, his voice gentle.

They enjoyed the intimate moment in quiet peace, until the sound of the back door opening broke the silence.

“Thought I heard voices in here,” Gus’s gruff voice announced.

Alex straightened up slightly as Riley’s father entered, a six-pack of root beer bottles dangling from one hand. Gus’s limp was more pronounced in the evening, his cane tapping rhythmically against the concrete floor as he approached.

“Evenin’, Dad,” Riley greeted, waving her foot, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

“Evenin’,” Gus replied, his sharp eyes landing on Alex. “So, you’re the Harper kid I’ve been hearin’ about.”

Alex stood up politely, offering his hand. “Yes, sir. Alex Harper. It’s nice to meet you.”

Gus eyed the handshake for a moment before setting down the root beer and taking Alex’s hand firmly. “Gus Greaves,” he said. “I’ve seen you 'round town. Didn’t know you were courtin’ my daughter.”

“Dad!” Riley exclaimed, her face burning.

“What? ’s the truth,” Gus said, his tone matter-of-fact as he released Alex’s hand.

Alex, to his credit, handled the scrutiny with grace. “Yes, sir. Riley and I have been seeing each other for a little while now.”

Gus grunted, his expression unreadable as he grabbed three bottles of root beer from the six-pack, popped their caps against the edge of the workbench, and handed them out. Riley took hers with her left foot, and Alex nodded in thanks as he accepted his.

Gus sat down on a stool, leaning on his cane with one hand while taking a swig from the bottle with the other. “I like you, kid,” he said after a moment, his tone still gruff but warm.

“Thank you, sir,” Alex said.

“Don’t ‘sir’ me. Makes me feel old,” Gus said, waving him off.

Riley laughed quietly, taking a sip of her root beer.

Gus’s tone turned serious as he looked at Alex. “Now, I’ll be straight with you. I ain’t got a lot of love for your old man. No offense to you, but i feel like he’s got a way of lookin’ at people like they’re nothin’ unless they fit some mold he’s got in his head.”

“None taken,” Alex said, his voice steady. “I don’t agree with him, either.”

Gus nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response. “Good. You seem like you’ve got a decent head on your shoulders. And you care about Riley, which is all that matters to me.”

“I do,” Alex said without hesitation, glancing at Riley, squeezing her foot gently. “A lot.”

Riley felt her heart skip a beat at the sincerity in his voice.

Gus tipped his bottle toward Alex. “Then you’ve got my blessing - so long as you treat her right. You don’t, and we’re gonna have a problem. Understood?”

“Understood,” Alex said with a small, nervous smile.

“Good,” Gus said, leaning back slightly and taking another swig. “Now, you two behave. And don’t forget to lock up before you head out.”

“Will do, Dad,” Riley said, her voice soft but grateful.

Gus gave Alex one last appraising look, then turned and limped out the way he came, leaving them alone again.

Alex exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Well, that wasn’t as terrifying as I thought it’d be.”

Riley laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Trust me, you passed. If he didn’t like you, he’d have made it very clear.”

Riley and Alex spent the rest of the evening chatting about anything and everything. They swapped work stories, teased each other a little, and shared dreams for the future, their words and laughter echoing through the quiet garage. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the kind that only happens when two people feel completely at ease with each other. Eventually, Alex glanced at his watch, realizing how late it had gotten.

"Oh, i should probably go home by now. I doubt dad cooled off, actually, but he'd be downright furious if i arrived home after midnight," Said Alex with apologetic smile. Also, i should catch some sleep, i promised Mr. Novak i'll cover Old Bob's saturday shift."

"He's taking a weekend off? That's unlike him." asked Riley, thinking of the old, friendly cook at Novak's Bar & Grill. "Hope he gets well soon, he made the best short ribs."

"Yeah, about that..." Sighed Alex. "Bob's not been feeling well recently. He said he wants to retire in few months and stepping down as the grill chef. And Mr. Novak offered me his position on a full time basis right after i graduate high school."

"Did you accept?" asked Riley, raising her eyebrow

"I'm tempted to, but... Dad wants me to go to a college..." Answered Alex with a heavy sigh.

"The real question is," Asked Riley, "Do you want to go to the college?"

"What do you mean?" asked Alex, confused.

"Exactly what i'm saying,", continued Riley, "What do you want to do for living? Do you actually want to be a lawyer?"

"I mean, it pays well..." Said Alex, looking down at the oil stained concrete floor.

"That's not the point and you know it," Said Riley, putting her foot on Alex's shoulder, looking him in the eyes with understanding smile. "Tell me. Do you enjoy cooking?"

"I do, but..." replies Alex, "Dad says it's a nice hobby, but terrible career choice."

"Oh screw your dad, honestly!" Raised Riley her voice, nudging Alex in the chest with a big toe, "I'm not asking about what he wants, i'm asking you."

"I mean..." Said Alex slowly, "I loved cooking since i was 12..."

"Are you good at it?" asked Riley, knowing the answer long before Alex's modesty allowed him to says it out loud.

"Yeah. Wouldn't be scheduled for a grill chef promotion otherwise, i guess..." said Alex with all honesty.

"Then go for it!" Said Riley triumphantly.

"But the college..." stuttered Alex.

"Chefs don't need a degree." Said Riley matter of factly. "Chefs need talent and a lot of practice. You have plenty of the former, but won't get the latter if you're wasting your time on some law school for next four years."

"Everybody needs a degree, it... gives you options" Said Alex, slowly realizing the mantra his father's been giving him his whole life wasn't as universally true as he was led to believe.

"Do i look to you like i need a goddamn degree, Alex?" asked Riley with a half smile.

"Well, that's different..." Muttered Alex. "I mean, you already have a carrer here at this garage..."

"And you have carrer at Novak's, so what's the difference?" Asked Riley. "And who says you can't open your own restaurant one day?"

"You know what? You're right. I'll tell Mr. Novak i'm taking his offer." Said Alex, feeling his own resolve building up, "The worse part will be telling my father. But that's a problem for tomorrow. Today's problem is getting home before midnight. I should really be going now. Good night, Riley." With a kiss, he sighed, turned around and left. Riley looked after him for a little while before she yawned, raising her left foot to cover her mouth. She then pressed a switch on the wall to close the garage door, turned off the lights and went home through the back entrance.

***

Next morning, the sun streamed through the open garage door, casting warm golden light onto the shop floor. Riley sat on a stool next to her Pacer, her left foot deftly guiding a ratchet wrench as she tightened bolts on the new headers. Gus sat nearby, sorting through a box of assorted small parts, music playing softly from an old radio perched on a shelf.

A shadow fell across the entrance, and Riley looked up to see Marianne Harper hesitating just inside the doorway, her hands clutching a small purse. Riley wiped her brow with the back of her foot and gave a cautious smile.

“Mrs. Harper,” she said, her tone polite but tinged with surprise. “What brings you here?”

Gus glanced up, sensing the conversation will flow more naturally without him around muttered something about needing to check on the fresh batch of bearing lube and quietly retreated into the back office.

Marianne stepped further inside, her expression unsure but determined. “Good morning, Riley. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Riley replied, setting the ratchet down and turning to face her. “What can I do for you?”

Marianne hesitated, glancing around the garage as if trying to gather her thoughts. “I... wanted to apologize,” she began. “For last night. For Richard.”

Riley raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, letting Marianne continue.

“He can be... stubborn. Condescending even,” Marianne said, choosing her words carefully. “And he doesn’t always think before he speaks. But Alex... I mean, yesterday, after you two left our house together ,he came home a while later, but happier and more self assured than I’ve seen him in a long time. And I can see that’s because of you.”

Riley felt a warmth rise in her chest at the words but kept her expression measured. “Thank you, Mrs. Harper. That means a lot to me.”

Marianne smiled faintly, stepping closer. “Please, call me Marianne. I just wanted to—well, I thought it might be nice if we could get to know each other better. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Riley said, gesturing toward a couple of stools near the workbench.

Marianne sat gingerly on one, smoothing her skirt as she did. Riley perched on the other, crossing one leg over the other casually.

Marianne fidgeted for a moment, then looked at Riley with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... how do you manage everything? The garage, day-to-day life—everything—without...” She trailed off, glancing meaningfully at Riley’s shoulders.

Riley blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Without arms, you mean?”

Marianne flushed. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Riley said, cutting her off gently. “You’re not the first person to ask, and you won’t be the last. The short answer is: practice. When you don't know anything else from the day you were born, you kinda don't think about it. You just do.”

Marianne nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It must have been difficult growing up.”

Riley shrugged, smiling faintly. “It had its moments. But my dad was always in my corner. He never treated me like I couldn’t do something - just made me figure out how to do it differently. That’s why I love working here. It’s where I feel most capable.”

Marianne’s gaze softened. “That’s remarkable. Alex said you rebuilt your car’s engine yourself. Is that true?”

“Yep,” Riley said, a note of pride in her voice. “Took me a couple of weeks, but I got it running like new. Well, unless i'm tinkering with it, likew now.”

Marianne smiled, but there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She hesitated before asking, “Do you... ever worry about how people see you? I mean, being... different?”

Riley’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “I used to. A lot. Especially in school. But I realized people’s opinions don’t change what I can do. If someone can’t see past this” - she shrugged her shoulders to emphasise her point- “then that’s their problem, not mine.”

Marianne nodded slowly. “I admire that. It’s not easy to have that kind of confidence.”

“It’s not always easy,” Riley admitted. “But I’ve got people in my corner. My dad and Alex, mostly... that makes a big difference.”

Marianne looked down at her hands, twisting the strap of her purse. “For what it’s worth, I think Alex is lucky to have you. I didn’t know what to think at first—not because of you, but because I want him to be happy and... protected.”

Riley tilted her head, understanding but firm. “I get that. But Alex isn’t a kid. He doesn’t need protecting—not from me, anyway. We’re partners. We look out for each other.”

Marianne looked up, her eyes meeting Riley’s. “I can see that now. And I’m sorry if I doubted you. I really am.”

Riley gave her a small, genuine smile. “Thank you, Marianne. That means a lot.”

Marianne smiled back, her earlier tension easing. “I hope we'll get to know each other better, Riley. And maybe... we can start fresh?”

“I’d like that,” Riley said with a smile.

Marianne stood, smoothing her skirt again. “I should let you get back to work. But thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

“Anytime,” Riley said, standing as well and offering her foot for a handshake.

This time, Marianne did not hesitate before taking it, her grip firm but kind. “Have a good day, Riley,” she said as she turned to leave.

“You too, Marianne.” Smiled Riley.

***

Later that day, Riley was underneath the lifted frame of an old Ford pickup, deftly tightening bolts with a socket wrench clamped between her toes. Gus sat nearby on a rolling stool, rubbing his knee absently while examining a part catalog.

The sound of screeching tires tore through the calm, followed by the slam of a car door. Gus looked up, brow furrowed, as heavy footsteps echoed on the concrete. Richard Harper stormed in, his face twisted in fury, his gaze locking onto Riley.

“You!” he bellowed, pointing a shaking finger. “What have you done!?”

Riley scooted out from under the truck, wiping her feet on a piece of rag, her brown eyes narrowing at his tone. “Swapped my headers and started working on this car's suspension,” she said evenly, standing tall. “Why?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Richard snarled, his voice booming. “You’ve been filling Alex's head with nonsense! Talking him out of college to stay a cook like some—some no-good dirty drop out.”

Gus began to rise, but Riley held up her foot to stop him. “Mr. Harper, I didn’t fill Alex’s head with anything,” she said firmly. “I supported his decision. He made it on his own. He’s eighteen. That’s his right.”

Richard’s face reddened, his jaw tightening. “Supported his decision? To throw away his future for - what? Flipping burgers?” He sneered. “You’re dragging him down, you selfish, worthless...”

“Careful,” Gus growled, his voice like a low rumble of thunder.

But Richard ignored him, taking a step closer to Riley, his hand slashing the air between them. “...worthless armless bitch, and you’ve got no damn right to...”

The crack of Gus’s cane against the floor silenced him. Gus was up, moving faster than Riley had ever seen him, his cane abandoned behind as he closed the distance in an instant. Before Richard could react, Gus’s fist connected with his jaw in a single, sharp motion, sending the younger man sprawling to the concrete floor.

Riley froze, her mouth slightly open in shock She never saw her father this angry before. He could be strict and grumpy at times, but this time, he was genuinely furious. Richard sat on the ground, dazed, rubbing his chin, his fury momentarily replaced by confusion.

“You listen to me, you self centered little prick,” Gus said, his voice low and full of steel, standing tall over Richard with his broad shoulders squared. “I don’t give a damn who you are or how much you think the world revolves around you. You don’t come storming into my shop, shouting at my daughter, and throwing slurs around like you’re God Almighty.”

Richard scowled, attempting to push himself up, but Gus pointed a warning finger at him, halting his movements. “No. You’re gonna sit there and listen, you sonofabitch.”

Gus took a step closer, towering over him. “You’re angry because Alex wants to cook? Fine. That’s between you and him. But let me tell you something. Your son’s a good kid—kind, talented, and smart as hell. He’s the kind of son any father ought to be proud to have. And if you can’t see that, then I pity you. Frankly, it’s a damn miracle he turned out the way he did, growing up with such a bitter, small-minded asshole of a father like you.”

Richard’s jaw tightened, but Gus didn’t give him a chance to speak. “As for Riley?” Gus gestured toward her without breaking his gaze. “This girl has more grit and heart than you’ll ever understand. She’s built a life with her bare feet most men with ten fingers couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And she’s done it while putting up with people like you, who can’t see past their own god damn noses.”

Gus’s voice softened slightly, though his eyes remained hard. “You’re not gonna win your son back by tearing others down, Richard. You’re just gonna push him farther away. If you care about him at all, you’ll stop and think before you lose him for good.”

Richard sat there in stunned silence, his hand still on his jaw. The garage was deathly quiet, save for the faint hum of compressor in the back.

After a long pause, Gus straightened, grabbing his cane. He winced as he shifted his weight onto it, clearly feeling the strain of his actions. “Now, get out of my shop,” he said quietly but firmly. “And don’t come back unless you’ve got an apology on your tongue.”

Richard glanced at Riley, whose expression was a mixture of defiance and quiet pride. Without a word, he scrambled to his feet, dusted himself off, and stormed out, his footsteps fading into the distance.

As soon as the sound of Richard’s car disappeared, Riley let out a low whistle. “Well, i'll be damned dad. Never saw you this worked up before.”

Gus sank back onto his stool, shaking his head. “Damn knee’s gonna make me pay for that tomorrow. But it was so worth it."

Riley crouched next to him, her grin wide despite the lingering tension. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Gus looked at her, his weathered face softening into a small smile. “The hell I didn’t. Nobody talks to you like that, kid. Not in my shop. Not ever.”

Riley’s chest swelled with emotion, and she gave him a playful nudge with her foot. “You’re gonna make me cry, old man.”

“Save it for someone else,” Gus muttered, though his smile lingered. “Now get back to work before I remember what I pay you.”

Riley laughed and got back under the truck, feeling a renewed sense of gratitude for the man who’d raised her.

***

Just as Riley had settled back under the truck and Gus resumed thumbing through his catalog, the screech of tires in the gravel driveway pulled their attention back to the open garage doors. A familiar old sedan pulled up, and Alex stepped out, his face tight with worry. He hurried inside, looking between Riley and Gus like he was bracing for the worst.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asked, his voice tinged with panic. “Dad stormed out of the house, and I just knew he’d—” He stopped abruptly, noticing the bruise forming on Gus’s knuckles and Riley casually sliding out from under the truck.

Riley tilted her head, a sly grin on her face. “Your dad stopped by. We had... a chat.”

Alex’s shoulders sagged, his face flooding with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I... God, I knew he’d do something like this. I should’ve said something, or stopped him...”

Riley held up a foot to cut him off, the movement as firm as her tone. “Alex, stop. You’re not responsible for what your father does. You don’t need to apologize for him.”

“But—” Alex started, his hands gesturing helplessly.

“She’s right,” Gus interjected, his gruff voice commanding attention. He stood up from his stool, leaning on his cane as he approached Alex. “Your dad’s got his own damn issues. That’s on him, not you. You’re a good kid, Alex. Don’t let him make you feel otherwise.”

Alex hesitated, glancing between them, then nodded, though the guilt still lingered in his eyes. “What did he even say?”

Riley shrugged nonchalantly, though her tone carried a hint of sharpness. “Oh, the usual: How I’m ‘ruining your future,’ and how I’m a ‘worthless armless bi-’”

“Riley!” Alex interrupted, his face darkening with anger and embarrassment. “He actually said that?”

“Doesn’t matter what he said,” Gus cut in, his tone resolute. “What matters is, he was wrong. And I told him so. Now, let’s change the subject before my blood pressure gets any worse.”

Riley smirked. “Fine by me.” She looked pointedly at Alex, her expression softening. “So... how’d the promotion talk go?”

Alex hesitated, clearly still upset about his father’s behavior, but Gus gave him an encouraging nod. “Go on, kid. Let’s hear it.”

Alex took a deep breath, visibly shifting gears. “It went... really well, actually. Mr. Novak said i can start training under Old Bob. Said if I do well, I could make station chef in a couple years.”

Gus whistled, impressed. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all. And you’re gonna take it?”

Alex nodded, but his enthusiasm was tinged with uncertainty. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, it’s what I love doing, but... it’s not exactly the kind of career people get excited about. My dad sure doesn’t think much of it.”

Gus snorted, waving his hand dismissively. “Your dad doesn’t think much of anything that doesn’t fit the neat little box in his head. But let me tell you something, Alex: Life’s too damn short to spend it doing something you hate. You’re good at cooking, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, his voice steadying. “I think I’m pretty good.”

“Then do it,” Gus said firmly. “Find a way to make it work. You’ve got a talent for it, and you love it. Doesn’t matter if it’s not the highest-paying job in the world. A joyless, high-paying career isn’t worth much if you’re miserable every day. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Alex blinked, taking in Gus’s words, and a small smile began to spread across his face. “Thanks, mister Greaves. That... actually means a lot.”

Gus grunted, brushing off the sentiment with a wave of his hand. “Just don’t let anyone - including your old man - make you doubt yourself. You’ve got what it takes, kid. You’ll do fine.”

Riley grinned, leaning casually against the truck. “See? Told you.”

Alex smiled, the tension finally breaking. “I should probably go now, my shift starts in 15 minutes. I'm just glad you're okay. By the way, dinner’s on me tonight - drop by Novak's, both of you. I owe you big time.”

“Deal,” Riley said, her grin widening.

As Alex turned to leave, Gus called after him. “And hey, kid.”

Alex paused at the door, looking back.

“Next time your dad comes around acting like a fool, let me deal with him. I’ve got a good punch left in me yet.”

Alex chuckled, the weight on his shoulders lifting just a bit more. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, mister Greaves. For everything.”

Gus just waved him off, his expression softening as Alex disappeared down the driveway. Riley watched him go, her heart full, then turned back to her work, knowing she had the support of the two best men in her life.

***

The cozy atmosphere of Novak’s Bar & Grill welcomed Gus and Riley as they stepped inside. It was a quaint place, filled with the scent of sizzling meats and freshly baked bread. The hum of conversation and clinking silverware mixed with soft background music, creating an inviting din. A friendly hostess seated them at a booth near the open kitchen, where Riley could already spot Alex through the pass, his focus unwavering as he worked the grill alongside Old Bob, a friendly-looking, dark skinned, obese man in his sixties.

Gus settled into the booth with a groan, leaning his cane against the table. “Been a while since i was here. We used to go a lot with your mother, bud since she passed away, i stopped going out to eat,” he reminisced as hew smiled with a hint of sadness, scanning the menu.

Riley smirked, her eyes following Alex as he plated a dish with quick precision. “Did it change here a lot since then?.”

Gus snorted, though there was a twinkle of amusement in his eye. “Honestly? Not much. Just Old Bob got a lot thicker. And older. we used to call him Big Bob back then. Word is, he used to be the rising star in the high school football team before he busted his leg. That was like a year before i started my freshman year, but among the football guys, he was a legend for years to come.”

A server arrived to take their order, and Gus went for the house special: a juicy ribeye steak with garlic mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus. Riley, after much deliberation, opted for a hearty burger topped with caramelized onions, cheddar, and a tangy house sauce.

***

The food arrived promptly, and the first bite left them both impressed. Gus nodded in approval, savoring the steak perfect medium rare, while Riley enjoyed her burger.

“Kid’s got talent,” Gus admitted between bites. “If he had anything to do with this, he’s got my stamp of approval.”

Riley chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Guess I picked a good one, huh?”

“Not bad, not bad,” Gus said with mock seriousness. “But he has some big shoes to fill. Big Bob maybe didn't have the raw talent like Alex, but 45 years of experience more than make up for it.”

Riley laughed. She knew Alex wasn't one to back out from a challenge, especially in something hew loved doing.

As they finished their meals, Alex emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel tucked into his apron. His face lit up when he saw them.

“Hey, glad you both came! I see you just finished,” he said, a little breathless but smiling. “So, honest opinions—how was it?”

“Best steak I’ve had in years,” Gus said immediately, gesturing with his fork. “Cooked to perfection, and the seasoning? Just right.”

Riley grinned at Alex. “That burger? Amazing. You’ve got a real knack for this.”

Alex blushed, clearly pleased but trying to play it cool. “Well, technically, Old Bob still cooked the steak and the burger. I just prepped most of it and helped with the plating.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Gus said firmly. “You’re learning from him, and it shows. Don’t downplay your part in this.”

Alex smiled, his confidence bolstered. “Thanks, mr. Greaves. That means a lot. And Riley... glad you liked it.”

Riley tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Liked it? I’m thinking of coming back tomorrow for seconds.”

Alex laughed, and Old Bob's deep voice called his name from the kitchen. “Duty calls,” Alex said, glancing back. “Thanks for coming, you two. I’ll catch up with you later.”

As Alex disappeared back into the kitchen, Gus leaned back in the booth, a satisfied grin on his face. “Kid’s gonna do just fine here.”

***

The buzzing of a tattoo gun filled the air as Riley sat in the chair at Ink & Iron, a small but reputable tattoo shop downtown. The walls were lined with flash art and framed photos of grinning clients showing off their fresh ink. Riley’s bare shoulders gleamed under the bright overhead light.

Alex sat next to her, holding her foot. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern and a hint of admiration.

Riley glanced at him, her lips twitching into a smirk. “You’ve asked me that five times already. I’m fine, honey.”

“Just making sure,” he said, his expression softening. “You know I think this is awesome, right? ”

The tattoo artist, a friendly woman named Megan with brightly dyed blue hair, chuckled as she worked on the delicate sunflower design. “You two are adorable,” she said, pausing briefly to wipe away excess ink. “And for the record, Riley’s been a champ. Barely even flinched.”

“Told you I could handle it,” Riley said, her voice light but her tone carrying a note of pride. She glanced down at the design taking shape on her shoulder. The petals of the sunflower stretched gracefully across her shoulder, covering the spot where an arm would otherwise begin. “I’ve been thinking about this for months now, but it never felt like the right time. Now, though…” She trailed off, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked at Alex. “I’m ready.”

Alex leaned back, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I think it’s perfect. You’re turning what some people see as a weakness into strength. Something beautiful.”

Riley’s smirk softened into a warm smile. “I guess it took me a while to work up my courage to finally do this. And you've got a lot to do with that.”

Alex blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “All I did was remind you of how you did the same for me just a week ago.”

Megan looked up, grinning. “Okay, lovebirds, I’m almost done here. Ready for the big reveal?”

Riley took a deep breath, nodding. “Sure. Let’s see it.”

Megan swiveled the chair slightly and held up a hand mirror. Riley craned her neck, her eyes locking onto the vibrant yellow sunflowers blooming on both shoulders. They looked like they belonged there, like they’d always been a part of her.

“Wow,” she breathed, her voice tinged with awe. “It’s... perfect.”

Alex stood, stepping closer to get a better look. “It really is.”

Riley turned her gaze to him, her smile widening. “Thanks for coming with me. I don’t think I’d have done this without you.”

Alex shook his head. “My pleasure. It was the least i could do after you helped me build up the guts to say no to my dad.”

Riley laughed and grinned. “Couldn't see a great cook wasted on some lousy law school.”

“Fair,” Alex said with a grin, stepping back to let Megan clean and cover the fresh tattoos. “But seriously. Thank you. For everything.”

As they left Ink & Iron together, Riley felt more confident than ever before. Her shoulders, once a source of insecurity and stark reminder of being different, now carried a bold declaration of her resilience, her uniqueness, and her unwavering strength. And with Alex at her side, she knew she could face any challenge the life can throw at her.

[vilentia]

An Unforeseen Reunion

Eddie Munson x reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

Summary: an unexpected visit leads to a joyful and emotional reunion, rekindling old connections and creating new memories.

This is part 2 of what was originally planned as a one-part story.

****

Two years had slipped by since Eddie Munson left Hawkins and you behind. Those years were filled with growth, change, and a persistent longing that neither time nor distance could diminish. Now, standing nervously outside Eddie's apartment in California, your heart was a flurry of excitement and apprehension.

The journey to see him had been a whirlwind of emotions. Every mile traveled intensified the anticipation of seeing Eddie's face, hearing his voice not through a phone but in person. The memories of your last day together in Hawkins were vivid in your mind as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

As the door opened, revealing Eddie, time seemed to stop. He was slightly different—hair trimmed, a new maturity in his eyes—but unmistakably the Eddie you remembered.

Eddie froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Is this actually happening?" he uttered in astonishment.

"It's really me, Eddie," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

In a heartbeat, he enveloped you in a hug, lifting you slightly off the ground. The hug was tight, filled with years of missed moments and unspoken words. "I can't believe you're here," he said, his voice muffled by your hair.

"I've missed you so much, Eddie. More than I could put into words," you confessed, holding him tightly.

He gently set you down but kept his arms around you. "I missed you every single day. I can't... I just can't believe you're actually here."

You looked up into his eyes, those familiar pools of warmth and understanding. "I wanted to see you, to be with you, even if it's only for a short time."

Eddie's hands gently framed your face. "You being here is the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. How long are you staying?"

"As long as we need to catch up," you replied, a hopeful smile on your lips.

Eddie's laugh was like music to your ears. "Then let's not waste a single moment."

You stepped into his apartment, a space that felt instantly welcoming, a reflection of Eddie himself. It was filled with little bits of his life—posters of bands, a guitar in the corner, and a small, makeshift recording setup.

As Eddie gave you a tour, his voice was animated, filled with enthusiasm. "This is where the magic happens," he joked, gesturing to his guitar. "I've been working on some new stuff. I wish you could have been here to hear it as it came together."

"I would have loved that," you said, imagining the nights you could have spent listening to him play, sharing your thoughts, and just being together.

Settling on the couch, you both shared stories of the past two years. Eddie talked about his journey in California, the struggles and small triumphs of trying to make it in the music scene.

"What about you? How's life been treating you back in Hawkins?" Eddie asked, his gaze fixed on you.

"It's been okay, you know. Hawkins will always be home, but there's always been something missing since you left," you admitted, feeling a surge of honesty.

Eddie reached out, taking your hand. "I felt the same way. There were so many times I wanted to just come back. But I knew I had to try and make it here, for my music, for myself."

"I always knew you would make it. You're the most talented person I know," you said, pride evident in your voice.

He smiled, a little bashfully. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. You've always been my biggest supporter."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only comes with a deep, unspoken understanding. As the evening deepened into night, Eddie's expression grew more serious.

"I used to imagine this all the time, you know," he said quietly. "You, here, with me. It seemed like a dream I didn't allow myself to have."

"I guess dreams do come true sometimes," you whispered, feeling a sense of contentment enveloping you.

Eddie nodded. "I've learned that dreams are nothing without someone to share them with. You being here makes everything feel complete."

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Let's make the most of our time together, Eddie. Let's make new memories, just like old times."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I'd like that. New memories with you are the best kind."

In that moment, the past and the future seemed to converge, creating a perfect present. You were together again, and though the future was uncertain, the now was all that mattered. You were with Eddie, and that was enough. It was more than enough.

[sephirthoughts]

Father: Verb

Epilogue (2 of probably 4)

Summary: 11 year-old WMD Sephiroth is assigned a new handler/bodyguard, named Vincent Valentine.

LISTEN I LIED OK. THERE ARE MORE THAN TWO PARTS TO THIS EPILOGUE I CAN'T HELP IT. a lot of people need to have their loose ends tied up and who am i to deny them? after this, there's a heavy one (mom needed her own entire chapter), and the fun one (for everyone else) will be last. i think. who knows, at this rate.

gratuitous sephiroth because he's beautiful

“You guys come from Nibelheim?” asked a shirtless, very suntanned teenaged boy, who had just carried in a crate of vegetables. “No? Oh, man, did you hear what happened over there? Earthquake opened up natural gas vents, blew Shinra Manor sky high. The Mt. Nibel reactor melted down, too. Town’s ok, but the reactor’s fucked. Lot of people out of jobs, now. They’ve been showing up here, all week.”

“Is that so?” replied the customer he was addressing; a tall, slender, extraordinarily handsome youth, with black hair and crimson eyes. “How unfortunate.”

“Know what I heard?” the first teenaged boy’s equally shirtless and suntanned brother piped up, as he carried in another vegetable crate. “I heard a bunch of those monsters they were making there broke loose, and that’s what did it. They say Shinra’s covering it all up, by claiming it was earthquakes and gas leaks and shit. But my best friend’s girlfriend is in the fourth infantry and she told him—”

“Alright you two, shut your yaps and get back to work,” a trim, middle-aged woman in an apron and sundress scolded, shooing away her gossiping sons, who rolled their eyes and stalked off, with their crates of vegetables. She beamed at the customer they’d been chatting to, as she unfolded a paper bag and filled it with the wrapped sandwiches he’d ordered. “That all for ya, honey?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the youth nodded. “Oh—and a chocolate chip cookie. Thank you, ma’am.”

The little blonde boy at his side reached for the oversized cookie, but the youth took it and put it into the bag, with the sandwiches.

“No more sweets till after lunch,” he admonished. “You can’t grow up tall and strong like me, on an all-cookie diet. Now give me your hand and don’t run off.”

The woman behind the counter smiled warmly, to see the older boy (brother she assumed, though they didn’t look much alike) taking such attentive care of the younger, and the little one minding him so well, holding his hand and doing as he was told, without fussing or making a scene.

Just then, the sound of a crash and two young, male voices arguing came from the back of the shop. She sighed, shaking her head. If only her two idiot sons were so well-behaved and thoughtful as those two. They must have a much better father.

Oblivious to the unfavorable comparison they’d created for the other two young men, the black-haired youth and the tiny blonde boy walked down the bustling street, hand-in-hand, till they reached one of the many nearly-identical stucco buildings, with terra cotta roof tiles, that were as common as sand, in this beach-resort town.

This particular one was a small house, that was rented to tourists by the week, and had the advantage of being almost directly on the beach and also close to the town center, where all the shops and dining were located.

“Ms. Strife, we’re back!” the older boy called out, as the two entered. “Take off your shoes, Cloud, we don’t want to track sand all over the place.”

“Boys, thank the goddess,” a young blonde woman said, from the kitchen table. She’d been sipping iced tea and flipping through a copy of Midgar Magazine, but as the two approached, she collapsed in her chair and flung her arm theatrically over her face, like a tragic heroine. “You’re just in time to snatch me from the jaws of starvation! Quick, quick, my roast-beef sandwich! Before I waste away to nothing but bones!”

“Mama’s being dramatic,” the little blonde boy informed the older one, pursing his lips. “Don’t give her any, till she says please and thank you. That’s the rules.”

“Ah, my cruel son,” his mother intoned, reaching over to capture him in her arms and tickle his ribs, while he giggled and kicked. “No use trying to escape, Cloudy boy! This is your punishment for betraying your poor, starving mother! Oh, thanks for picking up lunch, Seph. If you don’t mind getting your pa, I’d appreciate it. He hasn’t come out of his room, yet, and I don’t dare disturb him.”

“It’s alright. He hates the sun and he doesn’t eat, anyway,” Seph answered cheerfully, taking a seat at the table. “He’ll probably sleep till sunset.”

“Uh-huh. But he’s definitely not a vampire,” she said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, as she set her wriggling son back on his feet.

“Vampires eat blood. People blood,” Cloud asserted, with a grimace. “Mr. Valentine can’t be a vampire.”

“Cloud is correct, my father doesn’t drink blood,” Seph confirmed, as he poured glasses of milk for himself and Cloud. “But he used to sleep in a coffin.”

“Disappointing,” Claudia lamented, through a bite of her sandwich. “I bet he doesn’t even turn into bats or explode in direct sunlight, either.”

Seph arched a black eyebrow. “Would you prefer he was a blood-drinking monster?”

“If he’d turn me into one, too. It’d be kinda cool to be a vampire.”

“Mama! Be good!” Cloud scolded, mortified by his mother’s laissez faire attitude toward joining the ranks of the undead.

“Tch, what’s the fun in that? Besides, if I was good all the time, you wouldn’t exist, my darlin’ little bossy-boots.”

Seph nearly choked on his sip of milk, and covered his mouth with a napkin, coughing and sputtering.

“What’s being good got to do with having a kid?” Cloud wanted to know.

“Nothing, baby, mama’s just being silly,” his mother replied breezily, ruffling his golden hair. “Alright, boys, I hope you dirtied up some laundry for me to wash, or I won’t have anything to do to earn my keep around here, before the boss wakes up.”

“You did laundry yesterday, Ms. Strife,” Seph pointed out. “We’re wearing the only clothes we’ve dirtied up.”

“What about your linens? Those must need a wash, right?”

Both boys shook their heads.

She slumped defeatedly. “Can’t one of you be a team player and wet the bed? Are you trying to make me obsolete?”

“My father doesn’t really expect you to be working, all the time. He mostly hired you so that I wouldn’t be lonely.”

“I know that, but…I’m just so grateful to him, for getting us outta that shithole town—”

“Mama!”

“Oops—I mean, that dirthole town. Anyway, I can’t ever repay your pa for giving us this opportunity. So I at least want to do everything I can to be useful.”

“You’re already doing more than enough, Ms. Strife,” Vincent’s deep voice said, from the archway, where he had appeared unnoticed by the group.

“Father!” Seph smiled, hopping up to throw his arms around him, as if they hadn’t seen one another in a week.

“Ah, well—ha ha. I just wish I could do more for y’all,” Claudia said awkwardly. “Seph looks after Cloudy all day, and aside from cooking dinners, I hardly have any housework to do. I feel like a regular bandit, taking what you’re paying me.”

“Don’t worry, Ms. Strife, I have more money than my father and I will ever know what to do with,” Seph assured her. “If we can use it for something that helps you and Cloud, and makes us happy at the same time, why not do it?”

Claudia raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you mean your pa has money?”

“No, it all belongs to my son,” Vincent said serenely. “Since I have been legally declared dead and have no wish to be declared living again, Seph is the sole heir and legal possessor of the family assets.”

“That’s right,” Seph put in cheerfully. “Plus, I emptied Hojo’s account before Shinra froze it, so I have all of my fake father’s money, too.”

Vincent nodded approvingly and patted Seph on the shoulder.

“I’m guessing there’s more to that than I want to know about,” Claudia remarked. “I was just wondering, why us? I mean, Cloudy ain’t even close to your age and I’m a high-school dropout who’s never been outta Nibelheim. There’s gotta be better companions for a couple rich, educated gentlemen.”

“Ms. Strife, do you believe in omens?” Seph asked. “Or portentous dreams?”

“Uh. I’m as religious as the next person, I guess. You’re not saying you had a dream about us, are you?”

“I am saying just that,” Seph nodded earnestly. “That day we first met, in the bakery, I had the strongest feeling that there was some fate between us. Then that night, I had a dream. A messenger from the goddess came to me, and showed me…a lot of confusing things, about the future. But amidst all the chaos, the thing that stood out most clearly was little Cloud, here. He is deeply important to the Planet, and it’s my goddess-given duty to act as his guardian angel. To protect him and help him, any way I can.”

This was all news to Cloud, who was staring at the older boy, with eyes as wide and round and saucers. He’d even stopped eating his chocolate chip cookie.

“It’s so strange you’d say that about a dream,” Claudia said, with a glance at her son. “Because…well, you wanna tell ‘em about it, baby?”

Cloud frowned and drew into himself, shaking his head.

“Is something the matter?” Seph asked, looking back and forth between them.

“Cloudy had a dream that night, too. He came running into my room, screaming about the town was burning down, and we had to get out of the house. Scared the tar out of me.”

As she said this, a look of pain flickered across Seph’s face, so briefly that no one observed.

“I ran to the window to look, but everything was quiet, just like normal. I told him it was just a nightmare, but he kept saying it wasn’t a dream. He insisted that the town was gonna burn and the boy with the silver hair was gonna fly down and save us from the fire, cause…uh. Cause you’re an angel. With wings and everything.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Cloud muttered sullenly, without looking up. “I wasn’t even sleeping.”

“I thought nothing of it, but then the very next day, there was that huge explosion at the manor,” his mother went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Broke windows all over town and shook our whole house. Then all those helicopters started flying over and a lot of big trucks came roaring through. People running by said the manor went up like it was full of dynamite. Cloudy was trying to drag me out of the house, to go over there, but it was too dangerous, and the soldiers wouldn’t let anyone anywhere near it, anyway. It was plain eerie the way it happened right after his dream, and all. I mean, the town didn’t catch fire, but it was damn close. They say rubble got thrown all the way to the old Lawson cabin, in the outskirts.”

Seph nodded gravely. “I’m glad no one from the town was harmed. It seems the goddess truly was protecting you.”

“You and your father, as well. Unless you think it was just dumb luck that you weren’t there, when it happened.”

“I don’t believe in luck. But, in any case, that’s my reason for having you two with us. I want to protect Cloud and take care of him, no matter what it takes. If that means helping you establish yourselves in a better place, with more opportunities than Nibelheim, then that’s what I mean to do. But we can talk about all of that another day. If you don’t object, I was planning to take Cloud to look for shells and beach glass.”

“Sure,” Claudia smiled. “I mean, as long as the boss doesn’t mind.”

“Father?” Seph prompted, when it became clear Vincent wasn’t aware he was being deferred to.

Vincent looked startled. “Hm? I’m the boss? When did we decide that?”

“You’re my father and Ms. Strife works for you. You’re literally the boss, in that respect.”

“I see,” Vincent said, slumping gloomily. “Then my first act as the boss is to tell everyone to do whatever you like. But don’t keep Cloud out too late. And if you get the slightest whiff of trouble, you call me. Do not engage. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Seph said dutifully. “Come on, Cloud. Let’s go change into our swimsuits.”

“Leave your dirty clothes on the floor, this time!” Claudia called after them. “I need something to do!”

“My son is…very spiritual, Ms. Strife,” Vincent said, once the boys had gone. “I hope his ideas don’t trouble you. If so, I’ll ask him not to say such things, in your son’s presence.”

“Oh no, I don’t mind at all. The goddess speaks to everyone in different ways,” she said, as she began to clear the few lunch things from the table. “So, when were you planning on telling me the truth, about who you two are, and why you’re on the run from Shinra?”

A little while later, Cloud and Seph were headed to the beach, hand-in-hand, with plastic buckets hung over their arms. Cloud was wearing bright blue swim trunks, with a yellow starfish pattern, and Seph was in black surf shorts and a white v-neck t-shirt.

He’d pulled his shoulder-length hair back into a low ponytail, and with his outsized height and visible muscle tone, he looked much older than fourteen. Cloud, however, was small even for a boy his age, and so they made something of an odd pair, as they strolled along at the surf line, stopping, ever so often, to pick up shells and colorful bits of sand-tumbled glass.

“Why’s your hair and your eyes different now?” Cloud asked, as they crouched to paw about in the wet sand.

Seph smiled at him. “Did you like them better, before?”

Cloud nodded.

“I’m sorry I changed them, then. But people are looking for me, and they’d recognize my silver hair and mako eyes, right away. I have to disguise myself when we’re in public, for now.”

“What’s mako eyes?”

“I have been regularly treated with mako infusions, since I was a baby.” Seph dispelled the crimson illusion on his eyes, and Cloud leaned close, to inspect them. “My eyes are naturally light blue. That green in the center is from the mako.”

“Why aren’t the black parts round, like other people’s?”

“I was just born that way,” Seph said, with a rueful smile.

He preferred not to explain to the child that, despite his purification by Chaos, the effects of Jenova’s cells on his body couldn’t be reversed. The damage had already been done, as it were, and so the related traits were permanent. Among these, were his slit pupils and silver hair.  

“Do they look scary?” he asked Cloud. “Like monster eyes?”

Cloud shook his golden head. “They look like cat eyes. Cats are nice.”

���When we settle down somewhere less temporary, would you like to get a cat?”

“Yeah! Lots of cats!” Cloud said excitedly, then his face fell. “But what if your pa won’t let us?”

“Don’t worry, I happen to know that my father likes cats. Even if he didn’t, he’d let me have as many as I wanted. He has a lot of paternal guilt, and I’m afraid it manifests in over-indulging me.”

“What’s paternal guilt?”

“It’s when a father feels bad for not being a better father, or for his child having had an unhappy life. None of what happened to us was his fault, of course, but he still blames himself.”

“Is that why he’s sad all the time?”

“Yes, partly. He has suffered a lot. But I’m doing my best to take good care of him and make him happy.”

“But you’re not supposed to take care of him. Grown-ups are supposed to take care of kids,” Cloud asserted.

“Don’t you take care of your mother, too?”

“Mm. Yeah, I guess so.”

They dug around for a while in silence, but for the roar of the ocean and the plunk of shells and glass into their buckets. When there was nothing more to be scavenged, they moved on, in search of another spot.

“What people are looking for you?” Cloud asked.

“Shinra. They are not nice people. But it’s nothing you or your mother need to worry about. There’s no one in the world who can hurt you, if you’re with me and my father.”

Cloud made a dubious face. “Not even soldiers?”

“Not even soldiers.”

“What if they have guns?”

Seph’s eyes flashed with bloodthirsty intent. “If anyone dared to use a firearm in a manner that threatened you, they wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.”

Cloud’s eyes went round and his mouth fell open. “You would kill them?”

“Yes.”

“Have you…killed anyone before?”

“Yes, I have,” Seph answered, matter-of-factly. “Does that frighten you?”

Cloud thought about this for a moment. “Well, why did you kill them? Were they bad?”

“Not all of them. I have killed and hurt people, who didn’t deserve it. I was very little, not much older than you are, now. When I couldn’t control my emotions, bad things happened, and people died. I didn’t know right from wrong, back then, because no one taught me. But I do now. Those bad things won’t happen again. Never. I’m going to protect people, not hurt them. I’m going to save everyone, this time.”

Cloud picked up a broken sand dollar and fiddled with it. “Did you didn’t save everyone before?”

There was an oddly mature pointedness to the question, that made the hairs prickle up on the back of Seph’s neck. “Cloud, do you ever…remember things that haven’t happened yet?”

The boy started to shake his head, then paused and turned it into a hesitant nod. “Mama says it’s dreams, but it’s not when I’m sleeping. And sometimes the things I remembered happen.”

“What kind of things do you remember?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Cloud, you can tell me anything. I promise, I will always believe you.”

“W—well, ok. I dreamed about…you, before I knew you. And then we saw you at the bakery. Mama already told you about the dream where you flew down to save us from the fire. But after that, I dreamed about you again. You didn’t look like you look, but I know it was you. You were big and tall, and you had a long jacket and long hair, all the way down to your butt. And you were burning everything and standing in the fire and…and I had to kill you.” Cloud burst out sobbing and threw his little arms around Seph’s waist, burying his face in his t-shirt. “I don’t want to kill you! I won’t do it! I won’t!”

Seph picked him up and cradled him tightly in his arms, rocking and soothing him, pressing kisses to his golden head. When the boy was calm again, he set him down on his feet, and crouched to be on his eye level. “I know what you saw was terrible, but it will never happen, I promise.”

“You believe me?” Cloud sniffled, wiping his pink-rimmed eyes.

“Of course I believe you. I saw the same thing.”

Cloud’s eyes went wide yet again. “You did?”

“I did. I think what we both saw was a memory of a different future, from before I changed everything. That was the future where I didn’t save everyone.”

“But it’s not gonna happen now?”

“No. The things we saw were real. Terribly real. But they’re not, anymore. I’ve broken the shackles of fate, from all of us. Now, we’re free to make our own destiny.”

Cloud gave a bewildered frown. “You talk weird.”

“I know,” Seph smiled.

“Your pa talks weird, too. Like he’s from a book.”

“Well, he’s an old man. He can’t help it. I’m just weird. Is that alright?”

“Mmm…yeah, it’s ok,” Cloud decided. “You sound smart, like a grown-up. But you don’t act all grumpy and bossy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Only, don’t get into the habit of assuming all grown-ups are smart. A lot of them are extremely stupid. Especially the grumpy and bossy ones.”

Cloud laughed delightedly at this, as Seph took his hand, and the two walked on, to seek out another spot for gathering shells.

“Do you think my mama and your pa will get married?”

“To each other? I certainly hope not. Then we’d be brothers.”

“You don’t want to be brothers?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Cloud said quietly, lowering his head to look at the sand he was kicking.

Seph squeezed his hand. “Don’t be sad. It’s not because I don’t like you. I don’t want us to be brothers, because I want to marry you, one day.”

Cloud gave a start and jerked it away, his round cheeks turning bright pink. “You want to marry me??”

“Yes. Not for a long time, though. When we’re grown up.”

“B—but I’m a boy! Boys can’t marry boys!”

“I think it’s good we got you out of Nibelheim, sooner rather than later,” Seph remarked, making a distasteful face. “Those kind of backward ideas seem to be epidemic in small towns, like that.”

“What’s a backwards idea?”

“A backward idea is one that relies on ignorance, prejudice, or blind adherence to tradition, to make a moral judgement, about something with no inherent morality attached.”

“Uh…”

“For example, the idea that two men or two women can’t be married. People like to say it’s wrong, but what is actuallywrong about it? Is it bad for a woman to love another woman and want to be her wife? Is it bad for a man to want to build a life and a family with another man? If it’s not wrong for a man and woman to do those things, why is it wrong for two men or two women?”

Cloud thought for a moment, then his face lit up, like he’d had an epiphany. “It’s not! It’s the same!”

Seph gave an approving nod. “Exactly. When you hear moralizing statements like that, never just accept them. Interrogate the idea and form your own opinion.”

“What’s interrogate?”

“It means to honestly ask yourself what you really think. If you can’t decide, ask someone you trust. Seek out other perspectives and information. Never take a right or wrong statement at face value.”

“Ok. If I can’t decide, I’ll ask you.”

Seph blinked. “Wait, me? You mean…you trust me?”

“Uh-huh!” Cloud beamed. “You’re my guardian angel. Even if you don’t have wings.”

He had to swallow against the aching tightness in his throat, at the pure, guileless sweetness of this innocent child. A child he remembered as a young man, looking upon him with the bitterest animosity, as he drove a sword through his gut—after Sephiroth had done the same to him. But…that wasn’t truly them. They would never become the mortal enemies, who drew one another’s blood in madness and hatred. Destiny was defeated. Their fate was their own to write.

“Cloud, can I tell you a secret?” Sephiroth said, leaning down to speak softly in the boy’s ear. “I do have wings.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY we all deserved a beach episode i think

next chapter

[hopesallwegotleft]

Elf

Guess who's still working on the 12 Days of Jalim challenge. Prompt #3: Elf Words: 917 Summary: Salim finds a surprise waiting for him in his e-mail inbox. Note: Had to do some tinkering to stage Jason's e-mail chain, so for reference, it's in reverse order, with newest replies at the top and oldest at the bottom. Salim's original response is the one with the most > arrows, right under the "Original reply:" part.

The boxy computer monitor emits a bleak, bluish light, stabbing at his eyeballs like a million microscopic needles. Salim'd rather sit on the couch with a good book, or warm himself up with a cup of hot tea, or chat away the afternoon hours in his old village's chaikhana.

But it is an effective way of gathering news about Zain, now that his son is settling into his own life. As much as he would love to travel to Highgate every day, to see his son living the life he's wished for himself, it's not always feasible. Nor is calling Zain every day, just to hear his voice—so happy and more mature every day that Salim's heart leaps up to his throat in pride.

Instead, there is the Internet, through which he can keep in touch with not just Zain, but his friends and family scattered around the globe. As he checks his personal e-mail, however, it's not Zain's reply to his recent mails that catch his attention.

At the top of his inbox is a line of bold letters from one of the Americans he bonded with during his harrowing ordeal in an abandoned Sumerian temple. Sergeant Nick Kay. 'Thought you'd get a kick out of this too,' the line reads.

When he opens the e-mail, it takes a while for the picture it contains to finish loading. The moment it's merely halfway done, his eyebrows jump up to his hairline.

In the middle of his screen is a scanned photograph of a young boy wearing a ridiculous costume. Covered in an ill-fitting, green tunic with a wide, red jester collar. As more of the picture loads, the boy seems to be drowning in his clothes. The cap of his costume is bright red with white fur trimming, sinking down the boy's forehead. But not enough to hide the pointed ends made of foam fitting over the boy's ears. Parts of the outfit clash with each other; it looks as if someone stitched some green clothing into a tunic and bought a cheap santa cap to go along with it. 

The boy glowers at someone off-camera. Possibly the person responsible for the costume, the photograph, or both, Salim can't tell.

From the high cheekbones, the lean face with bright brown eyes, and the already prickly attitude, he knows without a doubt who the subject is. Nick must've omitted it from his e-mail because it is as clear as day.

After he takes a minute to compose a response to Nick's e-mail, expressing gratitude for thinking of him and wishing him a joyous Christmas, he scans the rest of his inbox for a particular chain of e-mails.

A few lines down, he finds Jason's most recent reply. In it, Jason lets him know he landed safely back in America, that he enjoyed meeting his family, and that he's doing well.

His mouth curves up in a big smile, like it does every time, when he reaches the last part. Where Jason writes he looks forward to seeing him again. 

Or, 'You'd best get your ass over here soon if you're gonna keep sending those long fucking replies. Told you I ain't one for reading,' as Jason put it.

He clicks the small arrow at the top of the e-mail to compose his response. As he types up the short mail, his mind keeps conjuring up the image of Jason trying to hide a light blush at the realization Nick forwarded such a picture to him. And at Salim's response, possibly.

Though, Salim thinks, Jason had built up such a shield around himself when they first met, it's possible Jason would remain stone-faced while checking his inbox. 

He recites a quick prayer for Nick's safety, then sends the e-mail to Jason. Next, his habitual correspondence with his son absorbs all of his attention. 

His chest fills with warmth at reading the new experiences Zain has had in Highgate, and he answers his son's e-mail by letting him know he's doing well. Which isn't fully true in this lone, empty house now that his son and family are gone, but it's true enough, and he refuses to needlessly burden his son.

By the time he has sent his long reply to Zain, he finds a response from Jason. Or several, according to the bold number in brackets behind the subject line. Immediately, he navigates with the cursor to the relevant line. Hovering above it, he takes a second to wonder if he should first brew some tea so he can enjoy Jason's e-mail to its full extent.

He decides against it, unable to wait to hear what Jason has to say for himself. Scrolling to the bottom until he sees his initial reply, he begins reading the thread of e-mails Jason sent him.

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

Complete thread history: Pussy. >> Don't go silent on me now. >> >> Showed you mine, so show me yours. >>>> Don't tell me your school never made you do anything embarrassing. >>>>>> Can't believe he sent that shit to half the goddamn world. >>>>>> >>>>>> I was in fucking 2nd grade. The hell did you expect? >>>>>>>> I'm going to kill Nicky. >>>>>>>>>> Original reply: >>>>>>>>>> You may be the angriest little elf I've ever seen, my friend.

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

He lets out a single, loud laugh at Jason's e-mails. Then he hits reply and, grinning, spends even more time behind the computer screen, just to be able to converse with this strange American man. The man that his thoughts keep straying to.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Bₐᵣbᵢₑ Wₒᵣₗd

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐤����, 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʙᴀʙʏɢɪʀʟ! ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: None, reader gets called 'Barbie', just harmless flirting between Jake and reader

Masterlist

That day wasn't a really good one, you and Grace were out in the woods for hours looking for samples, but it seemed there wasn't any new plants to get samples from. So you put your avatar bodies to rest in the cabin and decided to wake up in the link pod. When your pod opened, you sat up and stretched out, your back felt sore for some reason. You heard Grace yell over her cigarette. You hoped off your pod and walked around to greet her.

Then came Max with two new individuals. "Grace I'd like for you to meet, Jake Sully and Norm Spellmen." He said gesturing to the two gentle men behind him. When he spotted you, he quickly introduced you too. "Oh, y/n, meet Jake and Norm." You sent them a small friendly wave. Jake couldn't help but stare at you. It's been a while since he's seen a pretty face like yours. Here you were, standing, wearing your bright pink jumpsuit, making you stand out from everyone with a white coat and sad colored clothing. He saw saw the bit of makeup you wore. You didn't seen afraid to express yourself in front of your colleagues.

"Get a look at this Barbie." Grace commented, referring to Jake. "What's wrong?" you asked, a bit confused by her annoyance. "I needed his brother, you know the one that trained for this." She said, rolling her eyes. Before you could say anything. She left, to tell Peter off while Max tried talking with her. You just lightly chuckled by her stubbornness. "Sorry about her, we had a bad morning." You said turning to both Jake and Norm. "Really? Barbie?" Jake asked with a small smirk on his lips, as if he was trying not to laugh. "Yeah, she came up with that nickname. I got used to it by now." You mentioned.

You gave Jake a good look, you couldn't help but feel your face heat up. "Damn, if I knew the marines were as cute as you, I would of signed up." You said with a small cheeky smile. Making Jake laugh by your flintiness. "Could say the same about you" He replied making you giggled. You then heard your name getting called by Grace. "I better go, can't keep her waiting. See ya around." You said to Jake, walking away.

You met with Grace again, still seen the annoyed look on her face. "Come on Grace, give the guy a chance." You said, trying to reason with her stubbornness. She looked at you in the face, then her eyes widen a bit and she sighed. "Oh god." She groaned. "What is it this time?" you asked. "You like him don't you?" she asked, looking at you. "No?! We only just met!" you said to her. "Yeah yeah, if you didn't, your eyes wouldn't be sparkling the way that they are now." She said to you. It was true, you couldn't help but already like the guy. "I don't care what you do in your personal time. Just, don't do something stupid and don't let your feelings get in the way." She commented. You replied. "Yes, mom." you joked, making Grace give you a small glare.

The next morning, you were already up and ready for the day. You weren't really going to do much but just be around the base in your avatar form. Once you had got into the pod, you were linked to your avatar. You were awake back in your avatar, getting up from the wooden cot. You went over to change. You got a change a clothes from underneath the drawers from the cot. You slipped on some shirts and a white shirt with pink trimming on. With the 'Barbie' logo written in the old 80s words pink. How ironic considering your nickname to Grace was 'Barbie.'

As you put on your hoop earrings on, you watched Grace avatar wake up. "Morning boss" you said with a smile, as she sat up. She looked at you, seen that you had put on your pink hoop earrings. "You know those are a safety hazard right?" she commented, putting her boots on. "Oh come on, is not like we're going out to the woods today." You said, applying on a bit of clear gloss on your lips. "Yeah, yeah." Grace just said, getting up from the cot, heading out. When you finished applying your gloss. You began to put your shoe on. Once you had laced them up, you went out as well.

At the stepped, you watched a familiar avatar coming your way. It was non other then Jake. You watched as Grace had small interaction with him, tossing him a yovo fruit which he caught and took a bite. He had seemed to like the fruit. You then stepped closer to them. "Morning Jake." You said to the man who was still eating the fruit. Then came Norm. He began to do some some flexes. "I am a living god" he teased, then he tripped over, but quickly got up, making you giggle. "Alright alright, Norm you come with me and Jake, you go with Barbie." She said.

You then guided Jake into the cabin, giving him a small tour of the place, as well as giving him some clothes to change into. He just wore a dark grey shirt and some pants. You then took him around the base, telling him where everything was and places he is able to go to. You also got to know a bit about him and he got to know a bit about you until it got dark. Luckily for you, their was an empty bed for him to take next to you.

Everyone was getting ready for bed, Jake was looking at the end of his braid, looking at the little pink tendrils swirling around. You were taking off your earrings when Grace walked by and told Jake to not mess with that or he'll go blind. You just chuckled. "I did the same thing the first time." You said, putting your earring on the small wooden nightstand. When the lights when out, you laid down in bed, getting comfortable. You looked over at Jake, seen worried expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, laying on your side to have a better look at him. Jake then turned his head to you. "What if I mess up?" he asked you. "I mean, you never really know. It's your first time doing something like this." You commented. "But, just take it easy, you'll be okay, just don't get yourself killed." You added with a small smile, seen him chuckle. "I'll keep that in mind." He said, laying his head on the pillow. Before you went back to the real world, you had to say something to him. "You know, If you're in need of a friend, I'm here." You said to him, seen the small nod and small on his lip. He then closed his eyes and so did you.

[coffeecat1983]

Mario Bros: Date Night pt 1

(caution, some of this story will have strong homophobia, mention of being drugged, drunken behavior)

Set about a year after the movie:

     "I donno Lu, maybe this is a bad idea."    Luigi raised an eyebrow at his older brother as he helped adjust his bow-tie.      "Hey, you already invited Peach, you can't back out now. I mean, c'mon, she's across the hall getting ready to go."    Mario groaned, tapping his foot. The dance shoe shone with the fresh polish Luigi had given it earlier. He and his twin were in their old bedroom at the Brooklyn apartment, now converted to a guest bedroom.      "But a family date night?" he groaned again.     "We've done it before with other dates, and Peach knows about the details." Luigi said, turning his attention to adjusting his own tie. "She could have refused, ya know. So quit bein' so nervous."    Mario sat on the edge of one of the beds, letting out a laugh. "Heh, usually I'm sayin' that to you."      "That's why it's good advice." Luigi said with a smile.

   Across the hall at Arthur and Marie's, in their room... Peach lifted the top off the dress box and gasped softly.      "I hope the fit is right." Marie said with a smile. She placed another box beside it. "There's this to go with it."    Carefully setting the first box aside Peach opened the other, her eyes wide at what it held.      "How can I thank you for this? They're beautiful."      "It's our way of welcoming you to the family." Marie replied. "We've been going to this club together for a long time, and when Mario said you liked reading about the 1920s' and 30s', we all agreed you should come with."    She opened the closet. "Now that doesn't mean we'll be in your hair all night, you two will get plenty of time alone, too." she said as she began looking through her own outfits. "I remember the first time Art took me on a date there. We had a wonderful time that night."      "Does everyone wear special outfits?" Peach asked. Marie hummed as she thought it over.      "Most do, especially on weekends but you'll see a few people in regular clothes. too."    There was a knock at the bedroom door and Arthur called out. "Ladies, it's almost showtime!"      "Give us a sec!" Marie called back.

   It was an interesting group that gathered outside the apartment building that night. Mario and Luigi were dressed in fine pressed white dress shirts with dark brown pants and black dress shoes. Dark brown suspenders and bow-ties of their signature colors completed the looks. Giovanni was waiting near the cars, dressed in a sleek black tux and pressed white shirt. Arthur was wearing an outfit similar to the bros only his had a silk, yellow pinstripe vest and black bow-tie, with a newsboy cap on his head. Tony was in black pants and dress shoes, his vest as black as his curled hair with thin tan stripes. A black fedora completed the look.    The men turned as the main door opened and the ladies of the group came out. Marianna was first, in a simple powder blue 1930s' dress with her hair wrapped in a white wrap. Darting up the steps, Giovanni took his wife's hand and walked down with her while Luigi slipped past to hold the door open.      "You ready for this, kid?" Arthur asked, nudging Mario.      "Y-Yeah, I think so." Mario blushed. "I- woah." Peach came out next. She was wearing a baby pink flapper dress with white fringe. Crystal beads were on the fringe, glittering in the light. A matching pink cloche hat with small white feathers finished the outfit with white dance shoes.      "Y-You look amazing." Mario breathed. Peach blushed and in the background Arthur and Tony were snickering, stopping with a sharp look from Giovanni.      "Thanks," she replied, more shy than he had ever seen her. "You look really handsome."    Marie was last out, dressed similar to Peach but in a lavender dress with silver trim and a silver headband. Offering his arm, Luigi led his aunt down the stairs.      "Everyone ready?" Giovanni asked. With agreement all around, the group separated into the two waiting cars and took off.

   The trip came to an end as they pulled in to the parking lot of a brick building. The orange neon sign read 'The Blind Tiger'. As the group gathered before going in, Arthur held an arm out to Marie before kissing her cheek.      "Can't wait to hit the dance floor with you, babe." he purred, making her laugh.      "Have fun! Gio and I are going to get a table." Marianna said as she and Giovanni went in.    Following, Peach gasped softly, gripping Mario's arm a little tighter as she looked around. The club had red carpeting spread out in the entrance, leading to a large polished wood dance floor. Tables draped in white cloth were set up along the edges, with a few enclosed booths for privacy. A long mahogany bar was along one wall, the dark wood 's lacquer shining beneath the lights.    While Arthur, Marie, Mario, and Peach went for the dance floor, Tony made a stop and spoke to the DJ before joining Luigi at the bar and the two ordered their drinks. Tony raised his glass to Luigi.      "Cin cin."    Luigi grinned and returned the cheer, tapping his glass to his uncle's. Both then turned to watch the dancers.      "So, what didja have to say to convince your bro to ask Peach out?"    A quick laugh. "Nothin' big, just threatened to show Peach more of his baby pictures if he didn't ask her." Tony snickered into his drink. "Kiddo, you are somethin' else."    He glanced up as a song began. "That's my tune." Tony slugged back the rest of the drink and strolled over to the table and held his hand out. Marianna laughed and accepted, joining him on the dance floor. The two moved sleekly and Peach was surprised at how Marianna was able to keep up, her feet gliding over the wood as though she were floating in the air. Both twirled and danced a bit until he danced her back towards the table. As the song continued, he went back out and Arthur stepped aside to give Marie a chance with his twin.      "Ladykiller." Arthur smirked.      "Jealous?" Tony grinned, sashaying a bit to show off his hips with a wink. He and Marie finished out the song with a sleek dance before she returned to Arthur's side.    As the song came to an end, the DJ came on.      "Ladies and gentlemen we have a special request tonight. Please clear the dance floor for our very own 'Boys from Brooklyn'!"    Tony and Arthur looked at each other before turning towards Giovanni. Their older brother gave a nod and a rarely seen sly smile as he walked past.      "Gotta show people what you two can do." he commented, returning to his seat. Mario and Peach glided off the floor and over to their table. The twins took their places on the dance floor, Marie hand-in-hand with Arthur as a song came on. Mario leaned over to Peach.      "They don't do this very often but it's so good."        What played out was like a scene from a movie. The lights focused on Arthur and a blue light, low and rich, covered Tony as he stood to the side. The light brightened to a yellow as Marie walked past, Tony giving her a glance as she went to Arthur's side. The couple began to dance, keeping pace with the piano and guitar of the song.    Gliding neatly around them, Tony kept his head down as he moved to the smooth saxophone that came into play. The beat picked up and he took Marie's hand, dancing her away from Arthur as the lights shifted to focus on them. Pulling off Tony's Fedora, Marie slipped it on her head.    The beat smoothed out then grew again as Arthur twirled on his toes, catching Marie's arm in a gentle hold. Taking the hat he play shoved it back at Tony before the couple fell into perfect step, the lights bright and following them as Tony was once again bathed in blue light. As Arthur and Marie finished their moves, Tony slipped the hat back on and with one last twirl, bowed his head as the light over him dimmed even further, leaving him alone as the couple struck a pose.

   Applause from the other patrons surrounded the trio, prompting them to take a bow. As they returned to the tables, Peach grew curious.      "How did you guys do that? It was incredible!"      "Heh, the twins have been doin' that routine for years." someone replied. A man that was about Giovanni's age had come up. His light brown hair held streaks of white, and he was dressed in basic black slacks and a white button-up top. He clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder.      "Gotta admit, you boys, and lady, still got it."      "We've been doin' that dance since we were teens," Tony explained to Peach. "Art and I came up with a version of it for a school talent show, and then Marie joined us."    Marie sighed as she took a seat. "My mama insisted I take dance lessons as a kid. Imagine my surprise when Art showed me he knew how to dance, too!"    Giovanni folded his arms as he thought back to the twins teen years. "Had to keep you two out of trouble somehow, and a few dance lessons during summer vacations helped."    Tony snort-laughed. "And Art's got me beat on the dance floor. He went and took tango lessons without me!"      "Eh, had to impress my gal at our wedding." Arthur purred, running a hand down Marie's thigh and kissing her neck. She squeaked and grabbing him by the collar, pulled him close.      "It worked, too." she said, kissing him.

To be continued....

(The song that Art, Tony, and Marie dance to is "Milla's Dream" by Parov Stelar)

Part two here

[toomuchracket]

Office nerd helping girly move in. or maybe him moving in with her 🥹

at his core, that sweet boy is actually a nosy little bitch (journo, after all), so helping you sort through all your belongings and decide what to keep and what to chuck before you move into his house is great fun for matty - there's a minor argument about getting rid of some of your records that he already has at his, but aside from that it's a nice time. although, you end up keeping far more than you thought, because every time you tried to put an old item of clothing in the "donate" pile matty would gasp and go "but i haven't seen you in this yet!" lol; he finds a lace-trimmed olive-green satin slip dress you forgot you had and almost goes into cardiac arrest over it, looking between the dress and you(r tits) and biting his lip, rolling his eyes when you say "i haven't been invited to any events where i can wear that one in years!" and replying "oh, i'll find one, trust me, darling", fiend that he is. but he's a sweetie for the most part, frequently pressing little kisses to your face and telling you he can't wait to wake up beside you (and maggie lbr) every morning, and on moving day itself he's diligently carrying the boxes upon boxes of stuff into the house like it's nothing (and his arms while he does... mhmm yes) and unpacking like "cleared a lot of space for you here, babe. shall i get some things out for you and you can rearrange however you want later?", bless him. it's a busy day, but a happy one, and even though you're both exhausted by the end of it as you eat your pizza (maggie's conked out on one of her many beds ages ago), you still stay awake long enough for matty to "make you feel good in OUR bed, darling", after which he falls asleep on your chest lol. it's very cutie <3