#more pics of this amazing shirt later

[the-sad-emo-princess666]

🕸 @the-sad-emo-princess666 🕸

[henry7931]

Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle

Miguel:

This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.

That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.

So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.

We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.

I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.

As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”

“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.

“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”

“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”

Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.

We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.

Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”

“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”

When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.

We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.

I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.

Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”

“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.

“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”

As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.

I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.

I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.

I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.

His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.

I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.

I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.

I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.

I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.

I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”

I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”

I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?

[the-massive-simp]

KINKTOBER - DAY 11 - mdni!

character: Childe

prompt(s): step siblings, voyeurism

warnings: masturbation(male and female), childe has a porn channel, he's a pervert, somnophilia but he doesn't touch reader uhh I think that's all (let me know if i missed anything. reader is female.

a/n: hehe. HEHE. this leaves things to your imagination, but I'll definitely write a part two for this one sooner or later. I'm a sucker for stinky perv childe ugh😔

kinktober masterlist here

♡

You've heard Childe mentioning he had a "part-time job" multiple times, which wasn't an unusual thing for university students. You knew it probably wasn't one of the big old classic jobs, like waiter or cashier, since he could do it from his room, but you thought that maybe he reviewed other students' assignments, edited videos or pics, or something like that. Surely, you didn't expect him to post porn videos.

It felt wrong to look at his channel, but you couldn't tear your gaze off it. The more you scrolled down the site, the more wrong you felt. You truly shouldn't be doing this. He's your stepbrother! The nice son of your mother's new husband, who always helps you with your assignments. The good cook who makes sure you've eaten and offers to come pick you up from your uni lessons. You knew you should have closed the tab, turned off your computer and tried to forget everything, but your eyes were glued to the screen, lips parted in shock. As you accidentally clicked on one of his videos and opened it, you couldn't help but notice how thick and long his cock looked. And how the pet names that slipped from his lips as he stroked his cock were the ones he usually used for you.

Wrong. It was wrong. But why did it make you feel so hot? Guilt couldn't stop you from bringing your hand down to your shorts, slipping under the hem to reach your panties, slowly rubbing circles on your clit. As he stroked his cock faster, sultry moans spilling from his lips, mixed with praises and degrading, you reached for your hole to find it already wet, the rush of adrenaline coming from doing something strictly forbidden adding to the pleasure. You slipped two fingers inside, curling them to rub against the spongy spot that made your toes curl.

♡

Ajax, or Childe, as his friends called him, often thought about you, his darling little sister. That's just what a good sibling does, right? But the way he thought about you would have made you run away from him.

Oh, how he wished he could bend you over and fill you with his cock every time you wore one of your little skirts. How his mouth watered at the sight of your pretty body lying, shirt riding up your tummy and tight little shorts doing nothing to hide the outline of your pretty pussy. How his dick ached as he pulled it out of his sweats, rubbing it to your sleeping form, that video quickly becoming the most viewed on his channel. Every time he pushed his steps to your room, just like now, he hoped to find you sleeping, or maybe changing, just to steal a peek at a portion of naked skin.

But today was the luckiest day ever. He stilled just before entering your room, an unusual sound startling him. He couldn't believe his ears as your soft moans reached them, his eyes widening, amazed. With one hand he slowly pushed the door open just enough to peek in, the sight inside rivaling his dirtiest dreams. You, lying back on your bed with your laptop open beside you, two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, perfectly on display for him. He smirked and opened the door.

♡

You matched the pace of your fingers with the one of the hand stroking the thick cock on the screen, and it didn't take long for you to feel your climax building up. As your pussy began to flutter around your fingers, a small whine escaping from your mouth, you felt the door of your room open, and the cheerful voice of your stepbrother reached your ears.

You quickly tried to cover yourself, telling him to get out and don't look, but it was to no use.

"Hey, I was wondering- Oh? What's going on here? Didn't know you were a fan of mine. I would have offered you much sooner the real thing."

♡

taglist: @optimisticparadisegladiator @callinz @sashiavi @suoscafe @yourlocalgrimreapers-blog @stvryyy @weichspuelertrinker @pb-n-gay @i-am-silver @prosciuttosblog @uwucakeroll @sanatixangell @ghostlycaptainair (couldn’t tag)

>if you want to be added to the taglist, you can do so with a comment, an ask or a dm!

[actuallysaiyan]

I Desire Your Attention(Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, lewd and suggestive themes, Small Might form, insecurities, oral sex(male receiving), daddy kink, age gap word count: 1k pairings: Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: Toshinori always feels like he's holding you back, but he wants to prove to you that he can still be so sexy for you. you come home to a very nice surprise. a/n: INSPIRED BY THIS AMAZING DRAWING BY THE LOVELY @mightytato !!!! Thank you for being awesome and drawing such amazing Toshi pics <3 dividers by @adornedwithlight

Even if you try your best to remind him that you are more than just attracted to him, Toshinori will always feel insecure. If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t use his muscular form anymore, he’d be able to feel just the slightest bit more secure in his looks. For you, he tries to see it but when he looks in the mirror, all he sees is a sickened, weakened skeleton of a man.

He thinks he could never keep you. You were an angel and you could be with someone so much better than him. Someone younger and who was closer to your own age. Someone with better stamina and who wouldn’t just hold you back. Someone who could make you happier than he ever could.

Throughout the day, you send him texts to remind him what time you’ll be home. It makes him happy that you’re so willing to be communicative with him like this, but it hurts his heart in a way.

He begins to think about you. Your angelic smile that always brightens his day. The way you say his name makes all the hair on his body stand on end. He thinks about how long it’s been since he’s been intimate with you and while his insecurities are yelling at him to forget about it, he knows what he has to do.

You come home later in the evening, excited to spend the night with your lover. You recognize that your schedules don’t always coincide the best, but making time for one another is important to both of you.

“Toshi?” you call as you enter his apartment using the spare key he gave you.

When you don’t hear an answer, you begin looking around for him. You think maybe he’s nodded off while grading papers. But you are so so so so wrong…

Your eyes widen when you see him in his office. With your mind so scrambled, you don’t even know where to look. His tie is undone and laying on his shoulders. His dark eyes are filled with such a lustful look. He smirks at you before biting his finger, giving him an even lewder look than before.

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down, looking at the chest that’s exposed. A few buttons unbuttoned is all it takes for that button-up shirt to cling to his pecs. Then slowly you look even further down, and that’s when you let out a little gasp.

His belt is unbuckled, taken off and the zipper to his pants is unzipped. You can see a bulge in his pants, and you know that he’s got to be somewhat aroused. Was he waiting for you? Was this your surprise?

“Why don’t you come sit on daddy’s lap, hm?” His voice was deep and gruff.

Your stomach flips as your brain tries to do mental acrobatics to understand just what’s going on. He winks at you, using the finger he was biting on to beckon you closer. You drop your bag and you make your way over to him, straddling his lap.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done to me?” you ask before kissing him hungrily. “You don’t know just how fucking sexy you look right now, do you?”

He swallows hard as he listens to your words and feels you kissing down his neck. His heart is racing in his chest. Toshinori knew he wanted to surprise you and he knew this would probably work, but damn this worked even better than he thought.

“There’s no way you think I’m that attractive.”

He’s shut up with you grinding your hips. Toshinori whines as your crotch rubs against the bulge in his pants. You do it again and again, showing him just how sexy you thought he is. You could never truly understand how he doesn’t know how good looking he is.

“You did this for me? All this? God, you must have wanted to kill me.” You breathe out in a wanton voice.

Your hands busy themselves with unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the rest of his chest to you. Your fingers gently run across the small patch of hair on his lower belly. He shudders at your touch, and he lets out a cute moan when you kiss lower and bite down on one of his pecs.

“Beautiful fucking man,” you groan as you continue leaving love bites in your wake. “Doesn’t even fucking know how beautiful he is.”

Toshinori whines and shudders; your words were proving to be almost too much. The bulge in his pants grows as he gets even more hard. He begins to buck his hips against you the more you bite down on his chest.

“You have no idea what kind of effect you have on me, sweetness.” He whispers hoarsely. “I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

You look up at him, smirking. “Poor pent up Toshi…”

You get on your knees in front of him, helping him pull down his pants. Then you begin to toy with him through his boxers; you make the little stain of pre get a little bigger. Then when you pull down his boxers, he’s a moaning mess.

“Look at you, daddy. At my mercy.” You say before licking the slit on his cock. 

He grips the arms of the chair hard, trying his best not to buck his hips up and hurt you completely. He wants to trust you with his pleasure because he knows you’ll always make him feel so good. With hooded eyes full of pure lust and love, Toshinori looks down at you and watches as you wrap your lips around the thick cockhead.

“F-fuck…” he says through gritted teeth.

His fingers tangle in your hair but he doesn’t dare push you. Your pace will be teasing, but he also knows it’ll feel so good. Toshinori knows you won’t withhold his orgasm; quite the contrary, you’ll probably overstimulate him until he’s just a puddle on this very seat. He’s in good hands.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[sugar-plum-writer]

Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3

Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)

A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~

Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?

Word count: 1.8k

[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]

Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.

Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious

He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.

"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"

His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.

"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck

"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.

As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly

"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.

"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving

"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.

The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued

"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.

"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"

Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"

Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.

His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.

"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom

"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze

"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours

"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;

He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm

"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?

"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands

"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine

"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit

"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing

"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick

"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.

Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this

But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips

"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans

"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"

Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"

"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust

"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head

There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute

Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched

Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go

"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress

"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.

"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily

"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum

Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.

A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life

Link to masterlist!

[luxurychristmaspudding]

super graphic ultra modern girl | On Call

summary: frankie, bug and luc go to pride.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader.

an: just some (a lot of) headcanons for my fav bi idiots. third person pov.

series masterlist

At this point, Bug is a well-seasoned Pride fiend.

She was going before she was out to her extended family, parading with friends, waving her little flag. She’d send pics to her dad, and he’d respond with a thumbs up selfie or a beer, cheersing to her and the gang.

She went to all the shows, did all the activities, ate all the food.

She’s a messy gal on a night out anyway, but she developed a bad reputation for running at the end of the night during Pride.

Frankie’s a little more lowkey by nature. He’s been to a couple of parades, one with Benny, but he’s more interested in the colourful, fruity little drinks he can sniff out at the park.

The morning of Pride, Bug wakes up extra early. She’s buzzing with excitement, busting through Frankie and Lucia’s front door with bagels and face paint and glitter.

Frankie just gawks at her, puffy eyed, from where he’s watching the coffee pot.

But he’s soooo quickly swept up with how excited and giggly Bug is.

He watches her do her makeup in his bathroom mirror, amazed. Her sparkly eye shadow, blush, fierce eyeliner. Cute little bi flags on her cheeks. She keeps catching his eye in the glass and laughing, patiently explaining things to him as he picks up palettes and brushes and other bits and bobs. 

He leaves her to get changed when Lucia wakes up, but she protests that she’s not even hungry, somehow infected with Bug’s enthusiasm in her sleep.

She’s wide eyed and slack-jawed when she bounces through the bathroom doorway. She gasps that Bug looks like a princess, which only makes her grin harder. 

Lucia wants her own makeup, and Bug plops her on the counter as Frankie watches helplessly, biting his lip against the smile that threatens to split his face in two.

He watches as she sweeps clean brushes over Luc’s skin, only swiping a little glitter over her cheekbones before asking if she wants little flags.

Luc claps her hands, giddy, head vibrating with a nod. So Bug paints little bi flags on her cheeks in kiddie-safe face paint as she babbles about what they’re gonna do later on.

When they’re finished, Luc stares at herself in the mirror, SO pleased with her little flags - ‘for Papi and Bug!’

And when Bug turns to him, clapping her hands and announcing that it’s his turn, Frankie can hardly say no. 

Luc is twirling around the room in her cute little dress, Frankie in his jeans and t-shirt and cap as he perches on the bathroom counter.

Bug whips his cap off, all ‘you gotta let those curls fly, baby!’ 

And he cannot stop giggling at her.

He’s familiar with the touch of brushes and paints and glitter from his and Lucia’s makeover evenings, but his heart is pounding as Bug smudges a little blush on his cheeks, baby pink glitter over his eyes, and flags matching hers and Lucia’s.

He keeps his arms folded to save his hands from reaching for her waist. But he can’t fight the way his lips purse when that little frown line appears as she does the flags. He’s not thinking about kissing it away. He’s not.

‘What are you pouting for, pretty boy?’

And Lucia agrees through excited shrieks that he is pretty, and Bug is pretty, and Lucia is pretty, and she wants breakfast.

Bug ties her bi flag cape around her neck when they join the parade, the streets alive with colour and music. She takes Frankie and Lucia’s hands, pulling them into the crowd, laughing and turning to Frankie with a smile so big it makes his heart melt.

Luc eventually wants her own little cape, so Bug darts off to find one. She comes back minutes later, successful, and Frankie ties it loosely around her neck. She feels like a superhero.

As the parade gets going, Frankie hoists Luc up onto his shoulders. Her little feet swing against his chest, little hands grabbing onto his ears, his curls, his forehead. 

‘Watch the facepaint, mija.’

Luc is delighted with her view. She’s constantly pointing out her favourite outfits, floats, and costumes. She gets little high fives from folks moving around her, and Frankie cannot keep the joy from his face.

Bug can’t stop looking at the two of them. A little family.

Bug introduces Frankie and Luc to a bunch of her friends. They’ve heard so much about them, and Frankie files away Bug’s little look of shyness for later.

They give Luc tonnes of rainbow stickers. She sticks them all over her outfit, beaming at the attention.

They all swap stories and laughter, conversation coming so easily to Frankie with Bug next to him. The warm pressure of her knee, the bright burst of her laugh. Luc takes a particular liking to Camille and Lucas, who show her how to make daisy chains. They have matching necklaces by the end of lunch.

And he feels so at home. So accepted and understood, and he understands why she loves it so much. Not just the fun, the party, but people who love and treasure you.

The trio disband to explore the kids area, full of more face painting, crafts and games. Lucia makes a pride-themed bracelet with Bug’s help, which she’s thrilled with. She makes a matching one for Frankie before he’s even finished his first, thick fingers struggling with the little beads. Bug feels her knees go a little weak at the way his tongue peeks out when he’s concentrating.

Frankie gives his bracelet to Bug. She slips it straight on, thumbing the beads with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

Frankie blushes right to the tips of his ears.

Lucia drags them to the dance party, holding both their hands as they take it in turns twirling around. She’s laughing uncontrollably, hands in the air as Frankie sweeps her up in his arms, spinning her high before swooping her low.

Bug photographs everything. The bracelets, her friends, the parade. Frankie and Lucia dancing, selfies where their faces are all smooshed together, bright and so happy.

Frankie asks her to send them to him, and he quickly makes a selfie of the three of them all grinning his lockscreen.

A few months later, he changes it to his actual favourite - one where Bug and Luc’s grins are still the same, but this time he’s pressing a kiss to Bug’s forehead. If he looks carefully, he can still see the light of surprise in her eyes.

They indulge in every food truck they want to. They get huge cones of colourful ice-cream from one, Luc’s covered in sprinkles which eventually cover Bug when she sits in her lap to eat it.

Frankie thumbs a splodge of ice-cream from Bug’s nose, licking it from his skin on instinct. He freezes when he realises he’s done it, and she’s not thinking about it. She’s not.

Luc picks out a small rainbow plush toy from a merch stall, a keepsake to remember the day by. Bug gets one too, and they nickname them the Pride Pals.

Frankie naturally has to get one too, because he has to match with his girls.

They catch a few performances, Luc clapping along on Frankie’s shoulders when her legs get too tired.

Not too tired, as it turns out, to join a dance group that invites kids on stage to boogie with them.

Later in the afternoon, they find a quiet, shaded spot where Luc takes a nap all curled up in Frankie’s arms. Frankie and Bug chat away, little bean soothed by the rumbled of her dad’s voice.

When Luc wakes up, they find a spot to watch the sunset. Bug breaks out glowsticks from her bag, and they watch the fireworks together. Luc back on her spot on Frankie’s shoulders, Frankie with his arm wrapped around Bug, Bug’s arms wrapped around Frankie.

Luc holds both their hands on the way home, squealing as she’s swung between them. She provides them with a comprehensive rundown of everything that’s happened as if they weren’t there, chattering about her favourite things. She wants to go every year, and she especially wants to see Camille and Lucas again.

‘I’ll see what I can do, bean.’

Frankie’s managed to find a different babysitter for the night, but they still make sure to tuck Luc in and read her a story. They both leave their numbers with the sitter, just in case.

When they arrive at the club, sunwarmed and refreshed, Bug takes Frankie’s hand and pulls him through the crowds. It’s electric - bright lights flashing through his eyes, bass felt deep in his belly.

They find her friends again before hitting the dancefloor. It’s easy, people moving freely amongst the clutch of bodies. Easy, even when Bug leans in close to giggle in his ear about how he dances like such a dad.

He’s not thinking about her warm, sweet breath on his cheek. Not about her palm on his chest. He’s not.

And she’s not thinking about his mess of curls, his plump lips. His arms in that t-shirt, how he moves his hips. She’s not.

They might be oblivious, but Bug’s friends aren’t. There are cheeky flashes of raised eyebrows that they miss, knowing smiles.

When Camille and Bug go to the bathroom together, she’s shaking Bug’s shoulders.

‘Are you fucking blind, baby?!’

Bug laughs it off, because she is, indeed, fucking blind.

An outrageous amount of fruity cocktails are drunk, even more toasts made to the day they’ve had. A new cheers to every new friend that joins the group of dancers, and Frankie is grinning so much it hurts.

He can’t remember the last time he felt free like this. So himself. Not a dad, not a soldier. Just Frankie.

It makes his heart swell with gratitude when he looks at her. 

Bug is the life of the party, screaming along to Chappell Roan and MUNA.

At some point, someone discovers there’s a photo booth. 

Drunk and fizzing with energy, the whole lot of them pile in, howling with laughter at the mess of faces in the images.

At some point, it’s just the two of them left. A set up, orchestrated by Camille. They don’t know that. Don’t remember how close they got, the soft feel of each others mouths, the breathless laughter. So carefree in the pictures, the forgotten kisses frozen in time. 

Bug finds the pictures the next day, at the bottom of her bag. Her cheeks burning, giddy and nervous, she hides them away and tries to decide how best to bring it up.

She doesn’t. Frankie is so hungover the next day he can barely remember there even being a photo booth.

He also cannot remember sending the drunk texts to the babysitter. Barely comprehensible check ins, answered extremely graciously by the amused friend-of-a-friend. Frankie makes sure to tip her the next morning, voice hoarse from singing and apologising.

Tired now, they find themselves tucked into a back corner, laughing and talking, wrapped in each others arms.

Camille is hollering from the dancefloor because they’re kissing. THEY’RE KISSING.

She brings it up casually a few months later, AMAZED to discover Bug has no recollection of it at all.

Because, and I quote, ‘it felt like I should have been paying to watch it’.

They get fries and nuggets on the way home, walking hand in hand through the city lights before they figure out how to summon an Uber.

When Frankie wakes the next morning, there’s purple, blue and pink all over his pillow. And he has to gently explain to Luc why she has to talk quietly around him.

And when Bug knocks with iced coffee a little later, he’s never been so sure he’s in love with her.

happy pride! <3

divider from @saradika-graphics

[headcanonenthusiast]

Alex Keller x chubby reader headcanons

Guess who's back with a 3rd Alex post in 3 days? These headcanons will be entirely SFW, focusing on a chubbier, gender-neutral reader, because Lord do we need more headcanons on this man, especially with chubby readers 🥲

Just a quick reminder that y'all are beautiful, no matter your weight 💙

Enjoy! 

-Ik I mentioned this in my NSFW Alex headcanons, but that one (obviously) was more sexual. But, he will still force you in front of a mirror, even in a non-sexual context, arms hugging you from behind while he whispers in your ear about how beautiful/handsome you are. 

-His fingers trail on each and every stretch-mark, observing them with pure delight. 

-And if you dare to complain about them, he's shutting that right down. 

-"What do you mean you don't like 'em? They make you look like a tiger, and everyone loves tigers." 

-"Yeah, but tigers aren't chubby." 

-"They can be. And when they are, they're extra cute." 

-Probably proceeds to show you this pic as well

-Your belly has become his personal pillow. 

-Its also almost like a stress ball to him, too. He'll softly knead at it like dough when y'all are cuddling, pressing kisses to the skin and tickling you with his facial hair. 

-When he gets home from a particularly long deployment, all he wants to do is just bury his face in your belly and forget about life for a while. 

-Will also ask for pictures of your tummy while he's away. Tells you how much he can't wait to come home and cuddle with you. 

-"That belly is the perfect pillow for me, baby. Can't wait to get home and fall asleep on you ❤"

-Absolutely doesn't take anyone shaming you for your body. He probably gets more pissed than you do, but he isn't super confrontational. As much as he'd like to knock the person out, he doesn't, and just leads you away instead.

-If those harsh words get to you, he'll drag you back to the mirror and gently ask you to tell him the specific things you don't like about your body. Then, he'll caress and compliment whatever you point out.

-"What do you mean your thighs are too big? They're literally the softest things in the world. You're nothing short of a warm, cozy pillow, baby. My pillow." 

-Also has an obsession with your thighs. Please let him kiss and squeeze them, he'll probably never be happy again if you don't. 

-Can't stop touching your stomach. He's also obsessed with that. 

-He'll make you feel like the most beautiful/handsome person in the world just with his words, which are always sincere.

-"Hope you know that you've got the best smile, baby doll." 

-If you're at a stage in your life where you actually want to lose weight, he hopes you do it for yourself and noone else.

-Always reassures you that he'll love you no matter what you look like. 

-"I don't care what you look like, baby. You'll look amazing no matter what you do." 

-Will actually help you work-out if you wanna try it. Always there to encourage you and honestly just sees it as more time spent with his wonderful partner.

-Also, he'll only be wearing a thin white shirt and gray shorts while exercising. Do with that what you will 🤭

-Goes clothes shopping with you a lot. 

-If you find clothes that you really like but they don't fit, he'll rub your shoulder comfortingly while searching the racks for another size.

-And if the store barely has anything that fits you? He's fuming about it on the way home and then tries to see if he can get you something customized to fit you. 

-Enjoys bathing with you just so he has an excuse to touch at and clean your body. Rubs soap all over your tummy and makes sure it's all nice and clean so he can fall asleep on it later. 

-Picks you up constantly and grins when it makes you giggle. 

-Once when you were especially sleepy and he made breakfast, he simply just scooped you up, carried you to the dining table and grabbed you a plate. You were definitely 100% awake after that. 

-His lap is always avaliable for you to sit on. 

-Sometimes pouts when you don't sit on it and looks at you with the saddest eyes until you do. 

-"Aw, is my lap not comfy enough for you, dolly?" 

-And if you insist you'll crush him, he looks at you like you have 5 heads. 

-"Thats the craziest thing I've ever heard. Come on, love. Get your pretty/handsome ass over here."

-Pats his thigh when he wants you on his lap, too. His arms immediately wrap around you when you sit on him, giving you a hug so tight it takes your breath away for a sec. 

-Never allows a negative word about yourself fall from your mouth.

-"Don't say that, baby. It's not true. Not at all." 

-"I wish it wasn't so hard for you to see yourself from my perspective. You're amazing, sweetheart. Always have been and always will be." 

-Would absolutely be a wonderful partner overall, no matter your body type or background. Alex genuinely couldn't care less about what you looked like, and would totally throw compliments at you so much you'd get flustered. 

Let's gooo another one done! I'm sure y'all can probably tell that I'm chubbier myself, and as such I'm here to provide for my fellow chubby readers out there with content on this wonderful man 🙏

Feel free to leave requests on who I should do next!

[joelsbeard]

pre-outbreak!joel when you're pregnant ❤️ part 3

These are extra fluffy and spicy lol, enjoy!!

You buy a pregnancy pillow bc you're just so sore all the time! and find it so hard to sleep, but you end up using it only half of the time, the other half you use joel as your pregnancy pillow hehe. You lay on your side and throw your leg over his hip and rest your belly on joel's torso while he holds you and massages your lower back with one arm. He loves that you use him as your pregnancy pillow bc he can immediately feel when the baby kicks and he can rest his hand on your stomach ❤️ You wake up or go to sleep hearing him talk and sing to the baby 🥺

Shopping with you isn't his favorite since a lot of the time it's you looking around at stuff while he just waits for you and holds your bags lol, but he loves going shopping with you to get things for the baby 🥺 you still are of course much more enthusiastic, always pointing out the cutest little toys and blankets and clothes (you're like "baby please we have to buy this for her!!🥺" and its a little bib that says "mommy loves me" 🥺) but also bc his papa bear instincts are already kicking in and he wants to make sure you buy the best, safest, and sturdiest carrier, stroller, etc.

Speaking of which, with his contractor background he does build a few things for the baby 🥺 He builds the most beautiful crib and rocking chair, and surprises you with it once he's finished. You had no idea he was building the crib, so you were really confused when he would be so nonchalant when you were at the store looking for one, but you figured all the stuff in the garage or work shed was just materials for the rocking chair. You cry when you see he built a crib for your baby 🥺 (you fuck him right then and there lol you LOVE your man and you're so happy he's the father of your baby)

Sometimes he has to make sure you don't go too overboard with buying too much baby stuff (its so hard, everything is so cute!!) and he just reminds you that you can add it to your baby shower registry

He is the sweetest man ever, and always gives you massages for your sore muscles and swollen feet (and once he massages all the soreness out of you he fucks you because 1. how could he not 2. he's just "making sure you feel extra good" LOL)

During your second trimester he is MORE than happy to dick you down when you're feeling horny, and since your initial nausea and morning sickness have subsided you are now just horny 24/7, and you fuck like a million times a day lol. Every time you're like "🥺 babyyy I'm horny :( take off your clothes like rn" LOL he's like "awww does my baby want sex :(" then he rips his shirt off and immediately manhandles you (without hurting you or the baby ofc) onto the nearest surface lol and later in your pregnancy when you're more uncomfortable he'll make sure to hold you up or put you on the bed or something so you can enjoy it as much as possible hehe.

One time he's like "I hope the baby is okay with all of our... increased physical activity LOL and I hope I'm not hurting her" and you're like "😭 baby i'm sure its fine lol, the doctor said it was okay and it helps me feel better" and he goes "yeah but still if i think about it sometimes it is kinda weird, wouldn't wanna poke her or anything" HAHA but you say "well she'll have to deal with it it's how she got here in the first place, and if its too uncomfortable for me I'll stop" and yes he fucks you afterwards ❤️

He goes crazy with how big your tits get, you always catch him looking at your tits and you're like 🙄 "babeee" and he's like "what, can a man not look at his girl's tiddies? I can't help it, the girls are looking great" LMAOO which of course you can't deny, you've been taking more ✨spicy✨ pics of yourself before you started showing since your boobs really did look amazing lol. He's definitely gotten more obsessed with how big they've gotten during sex, and he's always squeezing them or spending time kissing them even more than he usually does lol. He's just like "god I love these tits so much🤤" and you're like "yeah well remember these are for our daughter!!" "fair enough but these were mine first okay" ( men 🙄)

You decorate the baby's room together 🥺 he thought about surprising you entirely and doing it all himself, but he decided it would be more special and a good bonding activity for the two of you to decorate it together ❤️ You of course plan it all together, but he takes care of the actual heavy lifting with moving the furniture and painting (he doesn't want you breathing it in since you're pregnant) and you have a fun time assembling some of the easy stuff together lol.

Your favorite part is finally getting to hang up all the adorable outfits and onesies, and putting the little socks and headbands in the drawers. You buy a good amount of baby books so you can both read to her.

Tommy gives you the onesie and bib ⬇️ at your baby shower LMAO

The bib is hilarious, and you do end up actually using that onesie sometimes when all her other laundry is dirty 😭 every time joel sees the baby wearing it he either sighs or goes "can't argue with that" LMAOO

[opiumsturn]

WRONG PERSON.

C.STURNIOLO / / y/n-pink // chris-orange // NSFW!!

In which Chris send a certain pic to the wrong person..

Heyy its naz! -This is my first story! - 18+

will be taking requests-link at the end!

I was at my best friend's house which was the triplets.

I'm closer to Nick than I am to Matt and Chris.

At the moment, we were watching Outer Banks. Chris sat on a different couch from Nick and me, while Matt was on another couch as well. Nick and I were sitting on the same couch, with my legs crossed over Nick's legs. We had just finished the second episode when Chris got up to go to the bathroom.

"Hold up, I'm going to the bathroom," Chris says, looking down at his phone as he walks past me and Nick towards the bathroom.

not even 2 minutes later my phone buzzes. It's a notification from Snapchat that read..

"New snap from Chrisss 🫶"

I open the snap to see a dick, Chris's dick.

I was shocked for a second until my phone started blowing up

CHRISSS🫶-

SHIT NNONO NO Y/N THAT WASGT MEANT FOR U STOP FUCK IM SORYY SHITTT

ME-

calm down dont apologize its a nice dick.

CHRISSS🫶-

upstairs my room now.

I squeeze my legs to ease the tension between them and get up.

"I'm gonna go to bed now guys ill see yall tomorrow," I say not wanting anytime to see Chris and what his dick would do to me.

I go upstairs to Chris' room seeing he was already in there.

"Shit" Chris huffs out.

He gets up and without another word, he grabs my waist pulling me in for a kiss. his tongue sliding on my lips for an entrance which I give.

he slid his tongue down my throat with his hands roaming all over my body somehow he unstrapped my bra and started sliding his hand to my shirt pulling away

"you sure ma?" he asks. shit that fucking name had me weak to my fucking knees.

"yes, Chris. please" I huff barely managing to control myself.

"Please what mamas? use your words baby. "

"please fuck me chris." i say barely above a whisper.

not even finishing my sentence Chris grabs my ass and lifts me onto him dropping me on the bed un-clothing me. he takes my bra off my shirt,and my pants leaving me in only my white laced panties while he takes his clothes off above me revealing his 8 inch hard cock leaking pre-cum.

i sit up grabbing Chris' shoulder.

"chris sit down" i tell him. he grabs me rotating our postion so im now on top of him. i move lower down taking his 8 Inchs in my hand moving my hand ever so gentley before kissing the tip and licking his slit.

"mmpgh fuck." Chris huffs

with that i take all of him in me at once deep throating him all moaning on his cock sending vibrations all on his body

"mmph mamas your..so.ff..ffcuking good oh ugh right there ma dont stop." chris moans out barely being able to contain hisself.

i bob my head up and down his dick before he starts up again.

"Ma..ma Im gonna..Cum ugh dont stop mm" he groans

I pick up my pace and not even a few more movements he fills my throat and i swallow him all pulling out the while strips of cum following.

"ugh that was amazing ma holy shit" chris huffs. without wasting time he picks me up so hes now above me

he basically rips my panties off and throws them somewhere in the room teasing my folds.

"so wet for me ma" he says taking his two finger rubbing circles up and down my folds teasing me to my max

"Chris pl..please stop teasing i..cant please"

"Okay mamas" he says shoving his finger in me stretching me out. only the two finger he put in me sent me to let out the most pornographic moan loud enough matt and nick could have heard us.

"mamas be quiet we wouldnt want matt and nick to hear now would we?" he asks slowing his pace. i couldnt even manage to spit words out noding my head and biting my lip.

"good girl" he says going back to his pace

he starts to move his fingers at an unreal pace adding a thrid finger sending me near my climax.

"CHRIS MMPH" i moan loudly "im gonn..a CU..m" i spit out

"Not yet ma i wanna fuck you senseless" he says pullin his fingers out putting them in his mouth.

"mm ma you taste so good mmph" he says taking hand hand speading my legs open teasing my enterance with his tip rubbing up and down.

"chris please." i mumble

"please what mamas" he says knowing hwat hes doing to me.

"please fuck me chris" i moan out and with that chris slowly enters into my pussy groaning

"augh" chris groans "your so tight ma holy fuck." he mumbles

"faster chris" i say barely managing my words out.

Chris starts to move faster and faster to the point where hes moving at an animalistic pace. at this point im a moaning mess trying so hard to be quiet.

chris' thrust grow quicker somehow making me reach my climax

"augh im so close mamas cum with me" he says

"yes..chris" i say reaching my climax holding in til chris tells me too cum'

After a few more thrusts chris ques for me to cum

"now ma cum now." and with out any ferther we both came on eachother our warm white liquids oozing on eachother.

"holy fuck ma your amazing" chris says flopping next to me

"what are we now chris?" i ask

"your mine."

[2cupids]

nasty mark & yy headcannons 🤭?

say no more 🤭

—

cw: yangyang takes an up skirt pic of you (non-consensual), overstimulation, panty stealing, and mark sniffs and licks your dirty panties

mark

mark’s busy working on a song and has barely paid you any attention today so you decide to act bratty. you come up behind him while he’s sitting in his chair and run your hands down his chest only to have him push your hands away. you dip your head down to trace the shell of his ear with your tongue and whisper to him how bad you need his dick in your mouth; he tells you can have it later, not right now. when you bring him a bottle of water, you lean over in front of him in a way that makes your t-shirt ride up to show him you don’t have on anything underneath it, including underwear. still nothing. you eventually go to bed, a bit agitated and you’ve just gotten comfortable when mark walks in. he apologizes for being so busy and not giving his you attention. at first you pout and try not to give in but you’re so needy that you can’t help it. his lips connect with yours and you gladly welcome them. his hand finds it’s way to your body and down to your core and within minutes you’re cumming around his fingers. you expect him to pull his fingers out and suck them clean like he usually does but he gets on his stomach instead and latches his lips onto your clit and resumes fucking you with two fingers. you try pushing his head away; it’s not that it doesn’t feel good, because it does but you’re sensitive and it’s overwhelming. he doesn’t budge. you whimper, “too m-much.” his mouth lets go of the sensitive bud but his fingers keep pumping inside you. “you wanted my attention and now you’ve got it baby. be careful what you wish for next time.”

he’s never found himself sexually attracted to older women, but there’s something about you. yes, you might be his friend’s mom and twice his senior but you’re. every time he hangs out with your son, his eyes are on you more on you than the video game he’s supposed to be playing. he can’t but fantasize about you and all the things he wants to do to you and about what it’s like to sleep with an older woman of course, a milf as they’d call you. he wants his face between those pretty tits of yours and between your legs, covered in your essence while you moan his name. one day you’re out of the house when mark comes over, much to his disappointment. but an idea pops into his head. he excuses himself to the bathroom and makes a b-line to your bedroom instead. he slips in and immediately goes to your dresser, searching for the drawer that your panties are in. he grabs a pair towards the back of the drawer and stuffs them in his pocket. on his way out, he passes by your laundry pamper and he opens it in hopes you have some used underwear in there, and you do. right on the top. he picks them up and brings them to his nose, your womanly scent fills his nostrils and god, do you smell amazing. he almost cums untouched right there on the spot. if you smell this good, how do you taste? without thinking he licks and sucks the fabric of your panties, hoping to get just a small taste of you to satisfy himself. he savors the taste, you taste better than he ever expected. he needs to find a way to get your cunt in his mouth soon or else he might just go crazy.

yangyang

he loves seeing you in skimpy little skirts. thinking about how if you sit a certain way or the wind blows a little too hard, or any small action could result in your panties showing. even though you two are dating he doesn’t tell you because he thinks you’ll find it weird so he keeps it to himself. sometimes when you two go shopping together, he stands on the escalator step right behind you and pulls out his phone and snaps a picture under your skirt. he doesn’t check the picture to see what color your panties you have on or if you even have any on, he waits until he gets back to the dorms to look at the picture. the wait is agonizing, but so worth it. you have on a pair lacy pink thongs that perfectly show off your ass and he feels himself getting excited, various dirty thoughts begin to run through his head. he lets his hand slide down to pump the length of his cock in his sweats. he only means to calm himself down but he ends up masturbating to the photo, thinking about how he would love to just flip your skirt up and fuck you like the slut you’re dressed like and fill you full of cum. he finishes embarrassingly quick, with his load landing on his phone screen instead of inside your warm cunt where he wishes he was. he goes to clean and guilt washes over him. he goes to delete the picture but he can’t bring himself to do it, he puts it in his my eyes only folder.

yangyang having a high sex drive means he can fuck you any and everywhere. that also means nothing can stop him, there’s no obstacle he can’t overcome to get his dick wet. so when he got you to his empty, shared bedroom and his bed was a mess with clothes thrown all over it, he has to find another option, quick. he’s not about to fuck you on the floor and the only other option is his roommate, xiaojun’s bed. he doesn’t even think about it twice before he pushes your back down onto xiaojun’s bed, getting ready to fuck your brains out about to fuck. he’ll wash his sheets and apologize to him later.

[collapseintonever]

mcr at project revolution in charlotte, nc. august 8 2007. photos by buttertooth on livejournal. picture commentary under the cut

pic 2:

When MCR first came out onstage, Gerard strutted on like he was all badass with a black bandana on his face. For some reason, he reminded me of an anime cartoon character when he was wearing that. Anyway, the decision to wear the bandana came back to bite him in the ass later because he couldn't get it to untie from his neck when he realized how ridiculously fucking hot it was out there. I didn't realize it was still around his neck but he made a comment about it between songs when he was trying to catch his breath. Haha. Oh well, everything can't always go perfectly, right?

Anyway, since the picture of him (that I tried to take) with the bandana turned out all blurry and awful, here is a picture of Gerard just after he took it off. Might I point out how foxy his hair looks. Hooray for Gerard not looking like a mad scientist when I saw them perform!

Gerard made multiple comments on the heat, but you know what? He sort of deserved being hot since he was out there in his JACKET! It's a wonder he didn't pass out. He did spend a lot of the time lying on the stage or sitting. Early in their set (maybe three or so songs in?) he said something to the effect of (this is NOT a direct quote, just a paraphrase) "I was going to say something later about guys taking their shirts off, but, fuck it, it's too hot. Go ahead and take them off now." Then when they got to "Prison" he said it again about just the guys taking off their shirts and that he didn't care what size you are, you're still attractive. Gotta love Gerard and how he tries to make the fans feel good about themselves. I think he was just trying to charm the guys out of their clothes, though, really. He stressed that only the guys should take their shirts off and swing them around their heads. I think some guy threw his shirt up there and he picked it up and swung it around, but it could've been a rag or something. It was a black cloth of some kind, anyway. And of course, someone threw the obligatory feather boa up there, and Gerard put it on. I swear, Gerard must be crazy because he's in a jacket, singing his lungs out, on a stage with PYRO in the 103-degree heat for fuck's sake and he puts one of those itchy feather boas on.

pic 3 & 4: Unfortunately, these were the only two pics that had Ray in them since he stayed wayyyyy over on his side and I couldn't see him. But his playing and singing was amazing as usual!

pic 5: Right before the pyro came on Gerard said "Shit!" which I took to mean that he knew it was about to happen and he didn't want to feel the heat. I could be wrong, but that's what it seemed like.

pic 6: Towards the end of the concert Gerard said (again just a paraphrase because i didn't get it all, unfortunately!) that he was sweaty and nasty and everyone should "make some noise" because of it. I love MCR and all of the band members, genuinely I do, but if Gerard didn't take a shower after that concert, he is officially a nasty motherfucker. :P

Frank was a little more sensible with his attire, since he was wearing a sleeveless shirt. He flopped down at one point and it just looked like he was hating the heat.

On the second song (which I managed to get video of! Woot Woot!) Frank's guitar string broke (I think that's what inspired his fit of rage) so he smashed up his guitar. Then he picked up the one with the zombie on it and started playing again. The picture above came after he smashed up the first guitar.

pic 7: When he came down to my end of the stage, I could see that Gerard had something written on his neck again. I think it said "Truth" but it could just as well have said "Truce" because I could only see the first three letters. I don't know why it would say "Truce," but it could've (ETA: I read a review somewhere that it did indeed say "Truth". Stil havent seen any pics of it though). I tried to get a picture of his neck, but it came out blurry. Boo! Hiss! If anyone else has proof of what it said, I'd love to see the photo.

pic 8-10: And for those of you out there wondering, there was some mild Frank/Gerard action going on. By the time it happened, I had already used up all my video space and could only take photos. But the good news is that my camera has a photo burst option which lets you take three photos in a row. They're not the best photos ever, but I did get the shots when Frank walked past Gerard and grabbed Gerard's crotch. And I got Gerard's reaction to it. It happened really quickly so it was easy to miss.

pic 11: Oh and about halfway through, Frank put either a shirt over his head (one of the one's that got thrown onstage when Gerard told the guys in the audience to take their shirts off), presumably to mop up the sweat, but maybe he just wanted to be a weirdo. In the first photo it looks like Frank is smelling his armpits but really he's trying to wrap the cloth around his head.

pic 12-14: He played with the cloth over his head for most of the song.

pic 15: Gerard singing and Bob drumming away…

pic 16: Just Gerard…

pic 17-18: Frank taking a sip of water in the dark… …then spitting it on the audience. It didn't land on me. Not to sound horridly grungy or anything, but I kinda wished the water would've landed on me because I would've welcomed anything that would help cool me off at that point.

pic 19: Frank and Matt in the same stance. And yes, Matt, Frank does have a nice ass.

pic 20: Gerard pointing….

pic 21: And now for a little Matt Cortez: Gerard said he's got "arms of steel" and he ain't lyin'…

pic 22: Matt Cortez, being awesome. Gerard even gave a shout out to him and walked by and ruffled his hair…

pic 24: Matt's back…

pic 25: Matt's so cool, you can see through him!

[stillfoodforguys]

It was getting close to my birthday, so I decided to pluck up the courage to request a special present from one of my friends. I’ve thought he was hot the whole time I’ve known him, so he was the perfect choice to fulfil one of my biggest fantasies.

“So, you want me to eat you then take a pic afterwards? You’re into some weird stuff bro, but I’ll let it slide. Might actually feel nice being stuffed like that.”

After I’d fully stripped and lay on my bed, he also took off his shirt to reveal his smooth, toned body. I always thought the only thing lacking about him was his flat stomach, so I excited to personally become the thing that would stretch his belly out to a more desirable size. He started at my feet so I could watch the whole process, guiding them carefully to the back of his throat and sucking on them for a few seconds before swallowing.

I could hear him straining as each gulp forced more of my body into the warm, tight grip of his throat. It was quite the challenge I’d set him to consume another man, but he was determined to finish. It was an incredible sight to watch his stomach expanding as my legs slipped inside, and I couldn’t wait to witness the final result.

By the time he reached my waist, I could tell he was starting to enjoy this more and more. Rather than just quickly lathering me up with saliva to help swallow me, his tongue was now slowly caressing my skin as though he was taking the time to savour my taste. The fact our enjoyment was mutual turned me on even more, and I was dying for him to swallow my arms so that I could jerk off and relieve the tension. Annoyingly they were the last thing to be slurped past his lips, my friend letting out a deep sigh while his belly swelled outwards as the full weight of my body settled within.

A few minutes later, something hard hit me in the head as it dropped into his stomach, which turned out to be my phone. As promised, he’d snapped a pic of himself stood in front his bathroom mirror, his big, round, man-filled gut in clear view. It was amazing to see how I’d transformed him, but I was a little annoyed that he swallowed my phone and got it all slimy, so I asked what hell he was thinking. “Well how else are you supposed to see the pic? It’s not like I’m letting you out. Didn’t you hear what I said? The deal wasn’t to just swallow you, it was to EAT you.”

I was naive to have given him complete control over me like this. I thought I could trust him to release me afterwards, but instead I’d foolishly offered myself as a willing meal. I struggled the best I could against his stomach walls, which were slowly tightening around me with each belch that rumbled through his gullet and out of his mouth. He rubbed his erection that had surprisingly grown from the feeling of my movements inside him, a little precum soaking into his sweatpants as he thought about digesting me.

“It’s kinda hot thinking about how my gut’s gonna turn you o to sludge in a few hours. I shouldn’t have called it weird earlier, I think I might like this…”

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Espansivo

Chapter Twenty four

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Tiny, Sera Siege, Charlie, Donna, Jody, Patience, Nancy Fitzgerald, Andy Gallagher, Lee/Pam, Gibson child OMC, Annie/Bobby, Kevin

Word Count: 2308

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, hope

A/N: Dean gets to do the thing he loves to do. The brothers have a moment. The band gets ready to rock.

Series Masterlist

Dean rolled over in bed and smiled to himself. Tonight, he’d be on stage, starting the tour at home with back-to-back nights at the Forum. They were due in for set up and soundcheck by three, but he and Sam usually got there earlier. Plus, he wanted to check in on Jody and Donna. He hadn’t got the chance to talk to them since the conference call with their band, manager and Crowley and Bobby. 

Sheriffs, Psychics and Secretaries was their opener for the whole stretch, giving them a softer, sultrier intro than most of their fans expected. But Dean liked to play favorites, and once he found out they were free, he made it happen. Bobby helped, having worked with Jody when she was barely out of high school and starting out as a background singer.

The four piece all women band would definitely boost their Canadian ticket sales and Dean hoped to collaborate a bit further down the schedule.

He should have gotten up, but instead he just unplugged his phone and checked his messages. The band was pumped, Pam texted at seven with a pic of Gibson in one of the latest shirts from merch, which Dean hadn’t even seen yet. Then there was Kevin, who sometime after midnight asked how often they’d be able to do laundry, packing at the last minute like a true rookie.

Luckily, Pam had answered without too much sarcasm, so Dean didn’t feel bad for missing it. He sent a ‘get pumped’ gif and finally crawled out of bed.

As much as he loved touring, there was one thing that hotel rooms couldn’t compete with and that was his own custom-made shower. So Dean took his time, luxuriating beneath the hot water and amazing pressure. If he rubbed one out to take the edge off before a long day, that was his business.

And if the image of you on your knees in said shower was what pushed him over, he’d never admit it.

He got dressed and found the lukewarm pot of coffee Sam left for him in the empty kitchen. Dean sipped his coffee and strolled around the house, saying a silent ‘see ya later’. Their luggage and instruments littered the foyer, waiting for Tiny to pick them up and store what they didn’t need on the bus until they left Sunday night.

He finished his coffee on the pool deck, making sure the hot tub lid was on tight and everything else was put away. He knew their people would take care of anything he missed, but it helped him feel prepared to go through the motions. He’d never forgiven himself for not cleaning out the fridge before their first tour and ended up having to buy a whole new one.

Sam showed up with food and an extra set of toiletries and chargers for them both. Another thing they learned the hard way along the way. Always keep a set of clean underwear and a spare shirt, toothbrush, and deodorant in a backpack, just in case. And they didn’t even fly.

“Thanks, man,” Dean held up his pharmacy bag in gratitude, set it on the counter where he wouldn’t miss it and put his mug in the dishwasher.

Sam settled onto one of the stools, unwrapped his sandwich, and asked before he took a bite, “you ready?”

“Are you kidding?! I’m fucking stoked.” Dean shoved some chips into his mouth and waited as Sam finished chewing.

“No, I know, just checking in. It’s a long tour— longest we’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean looked down at his food and sighed. “Is it weird that the length doesn’t scare me? It almost feels right, like the longer we go, the more we prove them wrong?”

“The proverbial them? Yeah, I get it. It’s a marathon and they’re used to a sprint.”

“Exactly.” Dean bit into his own sandwich, the mayo pooled at the corners of his mouth and he savored the mix of flavors and textures. Damn, Sam still got him what he liked, even if it’d kill him someday.

“And Missouri is good with video-conferencing?”

Dean nodded and swallowed, wiping off the mess on his face. “Yeah, honestly we barely meet in person anymore anyway. She knows we’ll be on the road.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dean watched Sam’s mouth pinch as he thought of other things he should ask Dean. And things he didn’t want to bring up but probably should.

“It’s okay, let me have it. What else has got you so constipated?”

Sam looked pained at the accusation, but he huffed and got over it. “Look, I just need to know you’ve got a backup plan— plans even. If something sets you off, things you can do to keep it together or work through it or whatever.”

“Bobby asked you to check on me, didn’t he?”

Sam glared. “Can you blame him?”

Dean tossed his napkin on the counter and rocked back on his heels. “No, I guess not.”

“Trouble too— wanted to make sure you weren’t too distracted with the Bela stuff to tour.”

“She said that?”

“In not so many words.”

Dean chewed on that for a second. “Huh.”

Maybe you weren’t so unaffected after all. 

“I’m good, man. I’ve got the tools okay? Breathing, meditation or mindfulness or whatever it’s called these days, but also I can hit the gym if it’s too much or even call Missouri if it’s an emergency. I know what to do. And besides, it’s not like I’m used to living in the rage high these days— you know? I’m not that guy anymore.”

Sam looked Dean in the eye, his puppy dog eyes were intense but forgiving. “I know you’re not— I’m proud of you by the way. That guy last tour would have cussed me out for even asking.”

“Or broke your nose,” Dean agreed.

“If you could even reach it,” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and dug back into his lunch.

Dean pulled his guitars out of the back of the black Yukon Tiny had picked them up in. His sunglasses and cap on tight as he kept his head on a swivel in the underground parking ramp, knowing there’d be photographers all over the place as soon as they could weasel their way in. Once Sam had a bass on his back, his own acoustic in one hand and another bass in the other they headed inside, with Tiny and Co’s escort and curt nods toward the venue staff.

They were greeted by a very flustered event coordinator named Sera who wasn’t expecting them for another hour.

“Not a problem, we’ll stay out of your hair. Can’t do much until Charlie is ready for sound check anyway.”

“The redhead?” She squirmed, clearly annoyed. “She’s already here, too. Look— just don’t break anything. Your publicist is sorting through badges down the hall, please just have your security team meet with Mike, our security head before anybody starts moving freely beyond this level— or the stretch of dressing rooms.”

Dean and Sam shared a look, they never expected special treatment, but as the headliners they had come to expect a little more, not reverence, but respect at least.

“Whatever you say lady,” Dean agreed and picked his instruments back up so as not to seem like he’s getting too comfortable.

She motioned for her assistant to follow them as she stormed down the hall the opposite direction they’d arrived from.

“We asked the opening band to stay on their bus until we could vouch for them, but now that you’re here— we can do that. Where’s your manager anyhow? I thought I had sent him all of this already?”

“He’s with the road crew, Bobby likes to work his way in. So, let me get this straight, you haven’t let anyone besides our head tech and publicist in yet today?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been charmed too many times by an accent Mr. Winchester— they’ll get their passes and everyone can do their jobs.”

He did not envy whatever bullshit spiel she’d given Benny.

She gestured for Sam and Dean to lead the way into a small cul-du-sac of offices in which they instantly spotted you in the middle one, untangling lanyards with a stack of plastic ids stacked in multiple piles all strewn across a usurped desk.

“Oh thank god!” You practically growled. “Here.”

Dean set down his guitars and took his pass and handed Sam his, who was shuffling awkwardly inside the small space. 

“You seen Bobby?” Sam asked you.

You rolled your eyes. “No, but he hasn't stopped calling me to figure this out. So I’m going to go start handing these out, please go find Victor so the girls can get situated. I feel like they got the unwelcome wagon this morning— after hauling ass down from Vancouver, too”

“On it,” Dean agreed. “Just gotta drop off our gear and we’ll go find ‘em.”

The venue’s staff all seemed to have other places to look than at the very urgent glares from you and the brothers.

“I’m sorry, I’m just used to a lot more layers to an organization than however it is you’re set up,” Sera snipped, sidestepping behind her desk that you had clearly pushed back to make room for sorting.

“Yeah, we don’t hand off stuff to underpaid lackeys, this band is a family business,” Dean snapped back.

“Clearly,” she said unamused, eying the space between Dean and you suspiciously. 

It was then that he realized you were both wearing ratty Zeppelin shirts and he exhaled. He turned to Sam and tipped his head back toward the hall, Sam nodded in agreement and then Dean leaned in to whisper to you, “good luck.”

You grunted in your throat, but faux smiled at him at the same time, basically saying ‘you’re lucky I love my job.’

If Dean could muster up some bravery and more self esteem, that smile could have been saying ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“You got this,” he insisted and turned to once again haul his gear back down the dark concrete hall.

SPS, as Jody and Donna’s band was dubbed for ease, all practically tackled Dean after he knocked on the door to their tour bus and brought them their golden tickets.

“Dean-o, it’s so good to see ya,” Donna beamed, stealing his hat and turning it backward in order to plant a wet one on his cheek.”

He chuckled, “you too, D-train. Alright, ladies, let’s get you unloaded. Sam’s outside, too, so put him to work.”

He hugged Jody next and then shook Nancy’s hand, since she was more reserved with her physical affection than the others. And lastly there was Patience, who mimed slugging him on the shoulder before giving him a side-armed hug. 

“Thanks for putting our name in the ring, can’t tell you what this means to us, Dean.”

“Nah, come on. Besides, you guys earned it. Let’s get you ready to kill tonight, alright?”

Her big brown eyes sparkled and Dean suddenly realized he was ushering in a new generation of musicians. Between her, Nancy and Kevin, this was the youngest troupe they’d worked with since the rest of them were that age.

“It’s going to be amazing.”

Something in Dean knew she was right.

Pamela reassembled her kit herself after absolutely admonishing the rookie roadies who had dared to start without her. Annie had Gibson in the wings as Phantom Traveler took the stage. Their mics were a nightmare to sort out, but Charlie was good at what she did so she got everything in line and prepped before they got too far behind. She’d also helped SPS and the in-house tech team so they could maximize the space. It was a helluva venue to start off in, but Dean wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Opening night’s setlist had been locked since the second rehearsal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t expand it if they were so inclined. Encores might have become expected, but the number of songs could always vary.

So Dean had them go over a few untouched oldies, things he wanted dusted off, just in case.

The energy between the band was unmatched. Easy smiles and intuitive rifts flowed forth the longer they played. Sure, they were nervous, Dean and Kevin probably the most. But it wasn’t fear, it was anticipation.

Dean soared with each note. It had been so long since he’d felt this alive. And after the past few years and the places he’d been, the things he’d put them all through, especially after losing Cas’, it finally felt like he had pulled himself out of the abyss. His band beside him, Dean was ready for the tour, but also whatever came after. 

As they were moving things to the wings for SPS to take the stage in a mere two hours and six minutes, Dean heard your laugh over the chaos. Looking around, he spotted you and Andy, the band’s go to photographer getting candid shots of the crew and band. It was like night and day, seeing you relaxed and excited now, compared to how frustrated and embarrassed you had been earlier in Sera’s office.

Dean knew he was in trouble this tour, having you so close, so present, and for so long was going to kill him slowly. Or his resolve at least. He’d taken on the Bela deal to get back in everyone’s good graces. And he’d even had some fun. 

But she wasn’t you.

Sam knew it and he was pretty sure Bobby and Annie knew it too.

Maybe if tonight went well, maybe it’d be enough.

Maybe he could be free from the tabloids and Twitter feeds and be allowed to make his own decisions again.

Maybe it was time for more.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 25: Vivace

[celebtf]

Golf with Niall

It was a sunny day outside and I was talking a walk in the city. The sun beat down with intense heat and I felt the need to drink water, but there was no shop or waterstand nearby.

I walked a little longer in the intense heat, I finally saw a white tent, so I walked towards the tent and it was part of this budle of tents .

As I was walking around at the location I saw it, this was a Compition in Golf, I know nothing about golf but I needed water that was for sure.

As I was walking towards the waterstand, I saw him, That was Niall horan walking past me " What do I do, do I follow or not " I took to seconds to think and later started following Niall to his trailer, he's ofc a Vip guest so he gets something a little more fancy.

I followed Niall a bit till he got to his Trailer, and I was not far behind him, he didn't close the door all the way so I saw my chance so I took it and opened the door without really thinking what I was doing.

The Shower was running, I could here that, Niall was singing in the shower so he probably didn't here me opening the door. Niall had left his clothes out here on the couch, I couldn't help it, I went for it and took a look, I found his underwear, socks, tight pants, a shirt and watch, perfect that's all I need. I started sniffing Nialls underwear and took of my pants, I needed to be fast.

My clothes were off and I stood there nude and put Niall's sweaty underwear on, they felt amazing against my naked ass, I took his shirt and put it on next with his Pants too.

I could see it happening, my arms grew bigger and more hairy, I felt this pain in my back and legs, I was growing. My hair got shorter and a more blond tone, when I looked in the mirror I could see my face change, I was Niall.

The shower was turned off, and out came Niall with a towel around his waist, I took a golf club from the bag and hit him. I started dressing Niall in my own clothes, started with my underwear and socks, I could see his dick shrink and hair grew black and messy, Niall himself shrinked and his face changed.

" Ouch what happend? " the accent was american and in a deep voice. " Hii Niall " I said with my new brittish accent " I would love to chat but I got a golf game to get ready for". I tied niall up with handcuffs and a ballgag and satt down at the table with a mirror.

I snapped a few pics getting ready " This body is so hot, I am so hot "

I took out the golf clothes from my new bag and put them on " Niall this pants are so tight, you can really see everything and this leather glove on your... I mean my hand are looking so hot laughed and left Niall in the trailer and went out and played the game.

" Hii Niall I'm back " he was in the same place as I left him. " This pants and your.. I mean my new body just made me so horny out on the field" I took out the ballgag from his mouth " Let's see how you like sucking yourself " I laughed..

[my-castles-crumbling]

6 through 11, 29, 21,22,24,25,27,31 (btw your pride makeup was amazing wish I didn’t suck at makeup),34 for pride asks

Ooo, okay! And thank you so much! If you want tips, let me know!

6. (If you're out) do you wish you came out sooner? Later? Or was it the right time? I mean...I don't regret doing things the way I did. I wish I had been more educated sooner, though. Like if I had known about like the existence of nonbinary people, I would have come out a lot easier. But yeah, I don't regret my own timing, if that makes sense.

7. Are you the "token" queer person in your family? There are other queer people in my family, but I'm definitely the most outspoken, so I'm kind of the rainbow sheep lol.

(Already did 8)

9. When did you realize you weren't cishet? I started having dreams about kissing girls...and it took me a bit, but I realize that was pretty gay lol.

10. Something that gives you gender euphoria (whether you're cis or trans): Small shirt, big pants lol

(Already did 11)

21. What message would you give to your younger self? Babes, you're gay and you're not a girl. And that's okay. Stop trying to conform to cishet standards.

22. How do you usually celebrate Pride month? My wife and I go to Pride events! It's a lot of fun <3

24. Do you practice any religion, if so how does it play into your LGBT identity? Do you feel welcomed by your spiritual community? Nah, I'm not religious.

25. What queer discourse frustrates you the most? People need to STFU about celebrities' sexualities, especially if they're literal children. I definitely used to debate about shit like that, but I realized it can be hurtful, and it's not really my business.

27. What gender-neutral terms for yourself or others do you use (i.e. joyfriend)? I use they/them pronouns and then I tend to switch off with gendered terms, it gives me more euphoria. (Handsome/pretty, etc)

29. Are you currently partnered, or if not are you interested in having partner(s)? I have a wife <3

31. Post a pic in your pride gear (or it can just be a selfie or anything else lgbt). I'd rather not post any more pics, but there are some out there of my pride makeup!

34. What would make life easier to exist as a queer person? I mean, no more transphobic or homophobic laws, to start lol. But just like...empathy and understanding would be amazing.

Thank you for the asks!!! Happy Pride!

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twenty

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel plans something amazing for you.

a/n: i’m late I know and I used the same joel pic in the last moodboard but there’s only so much pre-show plot joel I can get my hands on and fuck he just looks so good??? I had a lot of fuckin fun writing this, can’t wait to see what y’all think 🤍

word count: 7k

warnings: y’all know the drill by now, and nothing super heavy or explicit in this part.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters✨

3 years later - 2013

“Wait, wait, wait.” Frank’s waving his hands, his eyes squeezed shut. “Tell me again. You what?”

You huff a laugh, hands wrapped around the cup of coffee resting on your thigh. It’s the good shit, from the tin that Frank hides even from Bill. You’re pretty sure he saves it only for your visits, namely ones like these where you two get to relax in the house, chatting away while Bill and Joel are off somewhere in town, fixing something or adjusting some measurement. You learned quickly to keep your distance when the two of them got to talking construction, opting to hide with Frank while your other halves did their thing.

“You know this,” you repeat, but reach into your collar, pulling at the chain around your neck until your ring pops out from your shirt. “It was one of the first things I ever told you, when we first met.”

“Bullshit,” Frank says, shaking his head. He crosses his arm over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “I would remember.”

“How old are you again?” you quip, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Maybe your memory’s going, old man.”

Frank’s jaw drops, and he reaches forward, batting at your hanging boot. “You little shit.”

You laugh, and he laughs with you.

“Okay, but really. Tell me again.”

It’s been a long three years.

Thankfully, things have stayed relatively the same in the QZ, and you’ve remastered the art of sneaking out. Joel is a magnet, glued to your side every time you set foot outside the walls, and while Tess has accompanied you more than once on your trips to Lincoln, she’s a little more content to stay in the QZ than before, and you can’t blame her.

Robin moved in with Tess, and has quickly become part of your little family. However, at Tess’s insistence, she knows nothing about your smuggling operation. As far as she knows, the three of you just take whatever jobs you can get from FEDRA, Joel keeping up his handyman position in your building, you keeping up appearances in the radio room.

You’ve curated your own little collection of radios. There’s the main one, still in your tiny room at Abe’s, but the radio in your apartment now plays the coded songs from Bill and Frank; sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies when you’re due for a visit, and eighties if there’s trouble. So far, there’s been no eighties, and you’re grateful. You’ve become pretty attached to the two older gentlemen living in the little town of Lincoln, and these days, Frank rivals Tess for the title of your closest confidant. 

You’ve got a little handheld radio too, for the off-chance you’re out of Boston for an extended period of time, and not heading for Lincoln. Bill had supplied it after your fifth visit, handing it to you as you packed up your bag in the dining room.

“Here,” he said quietly, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, not hearing him approach. “This works on the same frequencies we’ve been communicating on. If you’re ever out of Boston, take it with you, and it’ll still play Frank’s songs.”

You’d stared at the bearded man for a long time, your hand slowly reaching out to take the device. “Thanks, Bill.”

He gave you a curt nod. “You’re welcome.”

You still can’t get a read on the guy, even three years later. Frank insists that you’re his favourite of your group, that he’s got a soft spot for you specifically, but is still wary of Joel. Though you know every conversation Joel and Bill have that revolves around construction and protection gets Joel an inch closer to Bill’s good side.

Since Tommy left, Joel has changed in some ways, stayed exactly the same in others. The day after your first visit to Lincoln, he was home early. Too early. Early enough that you hadn’t even really gotten out of bed yet when he was barging through the door, slamming it shut behind him. It made you flinch, lurching to your feet and calling his name.

He had his hands pressed to the door, his shoulders hunched, head hung between them. You crossed the apartment quickly, laid your hand in the middle of his back, and Joel’s entire body quaked beneath your touch.

“Baby, what happened?” you asked, your worry evident in your tone. “Where were you?”

“Tommy’s gone,” he murmured, and his voice snapped on his little brother’s name. “Fuckin’ Fireflies shipped him off to their base in Minneapolis. He’s gone, Liv. He left us.” Joel pushed off the door, turned slowly towards you, and the sadness in his face made your heart ache. “He left me.”

“Oh, Joel.”

Since that day, he’s become more stoic. More brutal, in ways. Smuggling has become a more common occupation in the QZ, and Joel’s been quick to let the competition know just who you are, and that you were here first. Robert — the head of a rival group with a penchant for taking your drops before you have the chance to reach them — has taken to calling Joel the attack dog. “And your wife’s the one holdin’ the leash,” Robert joked once. Joel gave you a sideways look, and you just nodded. He broke the fucker’s nose.

You’ve crossed paths with Marlene on more than one occasion since Joel’s encounter with her when Tommy first left. Unfortunately. You instantly didn’t like her, but the feeling seemed to be mutual. Every time she looked at you, you felt like you were walking on eggshells, and your mind always begged the question: did Tommy tell her you’re immune? She’s never come out and said it, never asked or alluded to it, but you can’t shake the feeling, the worry, the anxiety.

The radio info she gave Joel wasn’t bullshit, at least. You gave it a few days, like she said, and then found the frequency, called out to the Minneapolis base. The voice that first answered was one you didn’t recognize, but you asked for Tommy specifically, name-dropped Marlene — who you’d yet to meet, at that point — and a moment later, your brother-in-law’s voice floated through the headset.

“Hey, Liv.”

“You’re alive.”

Tommy chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. Guess you talked to Marlene, huh?”

“Joel did,” you answered. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

“She’s a good person,” Tommy replied, and you stifled the urge to roll your eyes. “Lots of good people out here, too.”

“You know, I’ve never been to Minnesota,” you said, tapping your fingers against the radio table. “But I bet it’s not as nice as Boston.”

“Liv—”

“He wanted to apologize, Tommy,” you spat out, pressing your palm to your forehead. “When we got back from that run, the day before you left. He said he was gonna find you, and he was gonna fix it.”

The radio crackled with silence for a moment before, “Well, it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Can’t you just—”

“I’ll check in, when I can,” he said, ignoring you, cutting you off. “Let you know I’m alive, but I won’t…I won’t talk to Joel, all right? Not yet. I’ll leave messages with Abe, if I can’t get ahold of you, but I just…I don’t wanna talk to Joel. Okay?”

His tone told you there was no negotiating. Defeated, you leaned back in the chair, tugging on the headset cord. “Okay.”

Tommy’s refusal to speak to his brother didn’t exactly help Joel’s mood. In fact, he nearly put his boot through the fucking wall, reached for one of the stashed bottles of whiskey. When you tried to talk about it, all you got was, “Well, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to him either.”

Weeks passed, and neither of them would relent. You begged Tommy on multiple occasions, tried to talk Joel into coming with you to Abe’s, but they’re both stubborn asses. Joel even tried to use the same tactic he had before Tommy left Boston — literally fucking you into submission — but you didn’t let him get as far this time. In fact, you threatened to hold out on him completely. 

Easier said than done, especially when he had his face in your throat, nipping that spot under your jaw that turned you into putty. “I know all your little places, Liv,” he mumbled into your skin, and you groaned. “I know you what gets you goin’. Always have.”

“So help me, Joel, I will go stay with Tess,” you threw back, and he’d pulled back almost instantly, something between shock and fear in his eyes. Something prickled in your chest, but you pushed past it. “You can’t bury your problems, baby. No matter how good it feels.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours, his lips softly parted. He swallowed so thickly you saw his throat bob, and then he leaned down slow, the tip of his nose just brushing yours. It was a soft kiss, softer than you were expecting, one hand adjusting to cup the back of your head. It wasn’t hungry, but gentle. An I love you pressed against your mouth.

“Tomorrow,” Joel murmured. “I’ll go with you. I’ll talk to him. I’ll try.” Something flashed in his eyes, that streak of Miller stubbornness returning. “But if he won’t talk to me, there’s nothin’ I can do.”

And those fuckers talked for hours.

There was a smug sense of accomplishment that came with watching Joel sitting at that tiny table, the headset pushing his hair in every direction, hunched over the microphone. You busied yourself with your notebook, half listening to their conversation. Joel grabbed you when you wandered close, hauled you into his lap as he said goodbye to his brother.

Once the radio was quiet, he yanked the headset off, dove his hand into your hair, and pulled your mouth down to his. You squeaked in surprise, letting your arms drape around his neck, one hand sneaking down the back of his collar. His palm cupped your jaw, kissing you soundly, and when he pulled back after a moment, his eyes were shining.

“Thank you.”

It’s continued, ever since you got them both to pull their heads out of their asses. Joel still has his days where he’s more mad at Tommy for leaving than anything else, occasions where he grumbles at you to just tell his brother he says hello when you tell him you’re heading for the radio. You make up excuses, tell Tommy that Joel’s working when he doesn’t come with you, and Tommy seems to believe it, for the most part. Your chats are scheduled, Tommy letting you know the next date and time he’ll check in before you say your goodbyes, and he’s stuck to every one since.

Neither you or Joel has asked what he’s doing in Minneapolis, why Marlene sent him, what the Fireflies have planned for Minnesota. You honestly don’t know if you want to know.

Visits to Lincoln have become a staple, and you’re grateful as hell. Twice a month, if you can manage it — most of the time, you visit even if the song that comes through on the radio is sixties (nothing new). You feel restless in the QZ, the imposing walls and the reminders of everything weighing on you more and more with every passing year.

You made a good call, with Frank. He’s exactly what you needed, exactly when you needed a friend like him.

A friend.

That’s what we are. Friends.

You sip your coffee as Frank gets up, heading towards the fridge. You’re perched on the kitchen counter, one boot swinging beneath you, cup resting on your leg. “I definitely told you we were married,” you say, lifting your brow as he opens the fridge, bending to fish something out.

“You definitely did not,” he replies, and as he straightens, your mouth drops open at the big bowl of strawberries in his hands. “I made good use of those seeds we traded for.”

You nearly fall over as he holds it towards you, letting you pick. The fruit is cold between your fingers, and when you sink your teeth into the strawberry, you feel like you could burst into tears. “Oh my god.”

“I know,” Frank replies, and sits back down at the small kitchen table, the strawberries between you. “Eat as many as you like; they’re growing like weeds out back.” His hand smacks against the table. “But I am telling you, Olivia, you never told me you and Joel were married!”

You nearly choke on the berry, wiping juice from the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you swallow it down. “Don’t you full name me,” you say with a laugh, knowing he’s joking. “Not like it was a real wedding or anything. We nearly died.”

Frank balks. “Pardon? No, you definitely never told me this.”

Reaching for another strawberry, you recount the story. Joel proposing, the FEDRA office, the car bombs, the Fireflies. How shaken you were. You can see the understanding on Frank’s face; you’ve told him about your time in Boston before Joel too, what happened on Outbreak Day, the days and weeks and months that followed.

You can feel your voice quaking slightly as you finish the tale, and Frank scoots his chair closer, reaching out and putting a hand on your leg. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

“Don’t be,” you say, staring down into your coffee cup, shaking your head. “We’re both alive.”

“But you never got the dress?” Frank asks, and you try to ignore the pang in your chest. “The first dance?”

“I have the ring,” you say, like it’s a consolation. “I’ve been trying to find one for Joel for forever, but how fucking morbid is that? Wearing some dead guy’s wedding ring? And Joel said the same thing, when he proposed, that it wasn’t the same, no big white dress, and I told him I didn’t care. I don’t care. If things were normal, I would have dragged his ass to Vegas the first chance I got. But…in retrospect, it just would have been nice to have my family there, say vows, something like that. Instead of some FEDRA thug telling me to sign on the dotted line.”

“I get it,” Frank says, squeezing your leg. “It’s okay, you know, to wish it was different. I think we try to push that away, to just accept the world like it is now, but it’s okay to miss the way things were. Tears have crawled up the back of your throat, and there’s a noise from outside, Bill calling Frank’s name.  There’s no panic in it, and Frank leans to glance out the window. “I’ll be right back. Have some more coffee.”

You refill your cup, steal another few strawberries. You give it a few minutes, and when Frank doesn’t come back, you slide off the counter, coffee in hand, and wander the house. You’ve seen it a bunch of times, at this point. Frank even tried to teach you piano, and you both laughed until your sides hurt at how awful you were at it.

Your boots seem to move of their own accord, walking down the main hall towards the front door. The walls are lined with picture frames, a few on the tables near the foyer, and your eyes drag over each photo. There are lots of old photos, people you assume to be Bill’s family. Some look as old as the first World War, and you pick up one frame, confirming your suspicions when you see the back of the frame reads 1917.

A photo in the middle of the wall catches your eye. A man and a woman, standing outside a church. They both have stoic smiles on their faces, and the man looks so strikingly similar to Bill that you realize it must be his parents. His mother wears a white dress, a veil in her hair, gloves with little pearls around the wrist. His father wears a dark suit, a carnation flower pinned to his lapel, his hair neatly combed. His mother holds a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, her arm slipped through her new husband’s. 

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. Fuck, how different things could have been…

What if you had never left Austin? You would have had two whole years of normalcy with Joel, in theory. You could have gotten to know Sarah better, you could have—

You cut the thought off abruptly, but every what if it branches into makes your chest ache. What if you had moved in? What if you had gotten married? What if you’d had a baby, made Sarah a big sister? What if…

The sound of the front door makes you flinch, and you hiss as coffee spills over the edge of your mug, hot liquid on your hand. “Fuck!”

“Oh, shit, hold on, baby,” Joel says, and disappears into the kitchen, reappearing at the other end of the hallway a moment later with a towel. He takes the cup from you, wiping the droplets from it before he’s reaching for your wrist, inspecting your hand. “You okay?”

You nod a little too enthusiastically, chewing at your lip. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, but hands you your coffee. “You about ready to go? Should start headin’ back soon.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

+

A month later, and the first eighties song plays over the radio. You recognize it instantly; Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. Joel grabs the book Frank had supplied, confirms it’s 1981, and your heart drops into your toes.

“Joel, we have to go,” you say, your heart leaping into your throat, instantly looking around the apartment. Where’s your bag, where’s your bat, where’s—

Someone knocks at the door, and you sigh with relief when you see Tess on the other side. “Oh, thank god. We have to go.”

She squints at you. “What?”

You throw your hand in the direction of the radio, still playing The Police. “Eighties. Trouble.”

“Fuck,” she grits, and you just nod.

The entire trip has you on edge. Every time you have to stop for a moment, or hear the warning scream of an Infected, your toes are curling in your boots, fingers tapping against the handle of the bat. You’re terrified to think what you might find in Lincoln.

Joel keeps close to your side, his hand resting at the top of your spine as you walk. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he tells you, and you want to believe him, you really do, but the world hasn’t given you much reason to hope for the best.

When you take that final turn and Lincoln comes into view, you hold your breath. Everything looks the same, nothing’s on fire, you don’t see anybody bleeding in the street. As you approach the gate, your stomach is in knots.

And then Frank appears at end of the sidewalk, beaming at you as you approach, and you’re officially confused. “You’re here!” he calls, arms spread wide as he reaches the gate, punches in the code, letting the three of you inside. Tess closes the gate behind her once you’re all through, and just as you’re about to ask what the fuck is going on, Joel grabs your face, giving you a soft kiss before he’s disappearing, following Tess in the direction of the wine shop.

Frank gives you an innocent smile. “Do you trust me?”

“I did,” you say, your heart still stuttering as he puts his arm around your shoulders and starts to lead you away from the gate. “You played eighties! I thought something awful happened, you fuck!”

He laughs. “A cruel trick, I know,” he says, clucking his tongue. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“What are you—”

“Close your eyes.”

“Wha—”

“Just do it, Liv.”

With a heavy sigh, you just shake your head, lifting your hands and covering your eyes with them. “Joel and Tess are in on this too?”

“They are,” Frank answers, both hands gripping your shoulders, steering you in the direction he wants you to go. “It’s a good surprise, I swear to you. Just trust me.”

“You ever play eighties again, Frank, I will keep my ass in Boston.”

“Sure, you will.”

You huff, half-heartedly angry, but let him continue to lead you. You’re instantly turned around, no idea where Frank is leading you, and it’s not until you come to a stop and he releases you, tells you to open your eyes, and you see you’re standing in front of the clothing boutique.

“Inside!” Frank declares, yanking open the door. “Let’s go!”

He pulls the door shut as soon as you’re inside, the tinkling bells overhead ringing and echoing through the shop. You slide your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, looking around. “You really not gonna tell me what’s going on?” you ask as Frank brushes past you, heading towards the back of the boutique.

“Where’s the fun in that? C’mon!”

You’re less and less annoyed with every step. Frank tends to have that effect, and even though you’re still reeling from every awful thought you’d had on the trek from Boston to Lincoln, the smile he gives you as he comes to a stop in front of one of the mirrors at the back earns your forgiveness. There’s something in front of the mirror, what you assume to be a mannequin, draped with a dark sheet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he says, letting his hand skim over the fabric, “but my mother was a seamstress. She taught me a thing or two, and it’s surprisingly come in handy now, fixing Bill’s favourite shirts and what have you.” Your brow pinches with confusion, but Frank keeps talking. “And I know you’re mad, that we rang the alarm when there wasn’t a need, but I mean it, you just have to trust me, and this will be amazing.”

With a flourish, he pulls the sheet away, and your jaw drops.

It’s a dress. A white dress, made of silky-looking material. Floor-length, short sleeves, and flowers embroidered into the fabric everywhere you look. Pearly buttons line the side, and you can see it’s more like a satin slip underneath with the more filmy overlay that’s embroidered.

It’s a dress.

A wedding dress.

You clap your hand over your mouth, tears instantly filling your eyes. Is this…? What…?

“Joel?” is all you manage to squeak out, and Frank just nods.

“It was mostly his idea,” Frank admits with a shrug. You take a step closer to the dress, almost scared to touch it, worried there’s dirt or something on your hands that will stain the fabric. “When you were here about a month ago, he brought it up to Bill. He agreed, and I helped with the finer details.”

“Details?”

“The dress,” he says, jutting his chin towards the mannequin, “and a few other things. This is only the first part, Liv.”

The tears are in full force now, and Frank makes a little noise, coming to stand beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You drop your head against his shoulder and he lays his on top of yours. “You made this?” you ask, your voice quiet, swiping at the tears under your lashes before pointing to the dress. It’s literally so beautiful you could cry. You are crying.

“Hah, not exactly,” Frank replies, rubbing your shoulder. “I found it in the back of the shop. If I tried to make it myself, it’d probably end up looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a wedding dress. But, put it on, we’ll see how it fits, and if you need any alterations, I’m your man.”

You feel like you’re in a dream, as he carefully pulls the dress off the mannequin. You take it with careful hands, heading for one of the dressing rooms and closing the door behind you. Laying the dress gently on the bench inside, you toe off your boots, shimmy out of your jeans, unbutton your shirt. Then you pause, frozen in place, staring at the dress.

It’s been more than a few minutes, you realize after a moment, and Frank calls your name. “You okay? Need any help?”

“I’m good,” you call back. In truth, you’re staring at yourself in the mirror. More specifically, the scar on your side. The bite. Frank calls your name again, and you cover it with your hand, pulse thumping through the mark. “I just need a sec.”

“Okay,” he replies, clearly unconvinced, but then the thought crosses your mind that if he tries to help, he’ll see the scar, and everything they’ve planned will go to shit.

Clearing your throat, you reach for the dress.

It fits like a fucking glove.

Almost sheepishly, you step out of the dressing room, and Frank gasps when you do, a giddy laugh reaching your ears as you feel them go hot. “Liv, you look beautiful.” He reaches for your hand. “I mean, you are beautiful, but oh, it’s perfect.” Before you can say anything, he all but pushes you back into the dressing room. “Change back, we have to go back to the house to get you ready.”

An hour later, and you’re standing in the spare bedroom of the house. The dress is laid out on the bed, your hair is freshly washed, and you feel so clean you almost want a nap. Frank had left some lavender-scented soap in the shower, and you can’t stop smelling your skin.

A knock at the door almost makes you flinch, and you call that it’s open. Tess steps through a moment later, and your breath catches at her dark red dress, her hair tucked behind her ear, a flower pinned with it. You both just start to giggle as she walks over to where you’re standing in front of the mirror. She stops behind you, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders, and you cover one with your own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad?” you scoff, still laughing. “I should be, but I’m not.” You chew at your lip. “We’re having a wedding?”

She meets your eyes in the mirror, leaning her head against yours. “You’re having a wedding.”

It feels almost like you expect it would have, if the outbreak had never happened. Getting ready, laughing with one of your best friends. There’s no curling iron, but Tess puts little braids in your hair, flowers like the one behind her ear forming a crown on top of your hair. She gives you a tube of mascara and a lipstick, jokes with you that they’re probably well expired, but they’ll do the trick. “What’s life without a little risk?”

Frank appears at some point — looking well-put together in a dress shirt and jacket, his hair neatly combed — and offers you a little bouquet of daisies from the garden. Tess jokes that you should carry the bat instead, and you all laugh.

And then you’re ready. 

“We’ll be waiting out back,” Frank says, and both he and Tess peck your cheeks before they’re gone.

It’s time.

You give yourself a few minutes, wait until you can’t hear your friends’ voices anymore, until it’s just you in the house. You go to walk out of the bedroom, you really do, but you find you can’t do it. You sink onto the edge of the bed, curling your hands into the fabric of the bedspread, forcing yourself not to cry.

It almost feels like you thought it would have, but there’s a glaring difference.

You only ever let yourself imagine this once, with Joel. After you left Austin, when you were back visiting for the Fourth of July. You let yourself think about what would happen, if you never went back to Boston. You let your fantasies run a little wild.

Anna would have been your maid of honour, Sarah would have been the flower girl. Your mother would have cried and your dad would have walked you down the aisle. You would have said your vows in the same church your grandparents had been married in.

You don’t know what’s waiting for you outside, and you have no doubt it’s wonderful and beautiful and far more than you deserve.

But…Anna. Sarah. Your parents.

You hear the door creak open downstairs, hear someone’s feet on the stairs. You’re expecting Frank, maybe even Joel.

You’re not expecting Bill. Same as Frank, he’s combed his hair, tucked it behind his ears, and while he doesn’t have a jacket, his button-up is tucked into his pants. “Olivia?” 

He’s the only one who’s exclusively called you by your full name since…well, since your dad. With him, it was either honey or Olivia, no in-between. And while you’re pretty sure Bill didn’t say your name once on your first visit to Lincoln, he’s greeted you with a curt mumble of your name each time since.

“I’m coming,” you say, starting to get up, fanning your wet eyes. “I just needed a second.”

Bill pauses in the doorway, staring at you. “It’s okay, you know, if you need another one.”

You sink back down, feeling your chest go tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bill tells you, and slowly, he steps into the room, walking towards the bed and sinking down beside you. “Today is about you, after all.”

You swipe at your cheek. “I’m surprised you agreed to this,” you say, and Bill lets out a little chuckle. “Not the best resource management.”

“Y’know, you say something to Frank once and he never lets you forget it,” he grumbles, shaking his head, but there’s a rare smile on his face. “It was Joel’s idea, I’m sure Frank told you.” You nod. “And I…I’ve had a soft spot for you, Olivia, since you two first showed up here. And it took me a while, but I realized, it’s because you remind me of Frank, in a way. You’re both…” He squints, waving his hand in the air.

“Feisty?”

“Feisty,” he agrees, “and headstrong, and loyal. And while I might not like him very much, I know Joel’s done right by you. He’s a good man, and he loves you, so when he asked for my help with this, I said yes.”

Your breath shakes a little as you sigh, leaning over until your head is resting on Bill’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I know, but I’m still grateful. I never could have imagined…” You trail off, feeling the tears crawling back up again, and Bill puts his arm around your shoulders slowly. “I just, I always thought that when I got married, my family would be there, that my dad would walk me down the aisle, and I just…” You shake your head, holding your breath and trying to force the tears down.

“I know it’s not much of a consolation,” Bill says quietly, and slowly gets up, offering you his hand, “but I’d be honoured to walk you down.”

+

It’s not what Joel had envisioned, when the idea had first come to him. At this point, he can’t even quite remember what he had pictured, because whatever it was, the end result is better.

It’s late in the day. You’d left Boston late morning, arrived mid-afternoon, and while Tess had hurried Joel through a shower and getting dressed, leading him the back way out of the house while you came in the front, everyone careful not to let you see each other, the sun is starting to set. But it’s perfect, golden light covering the grass, sunbeams filtering through the trees. He can hear birds, and as he stands there, fidgeting with his hands clasped in front of him, he’s struck by how truly grateful he is, how he never could have imagined any of this.

Whatever thoughts had once crossed his mind, this is better.

He had the idea the last time you were in Lincoln. Bill had called Frank outside to ask something about their stockpile in the bunker, which Frank had rolled his eyes at, and Joel had expected you to follow Frank out, but when you didn’t, he asked.

“She’s inside, enjoying her coffee,” Frank had replied with a little smile, waving his hand toward the house. “There’s extra; I’ll send you two back with a thermos full.”

Joel had waited for Bill’s protest, but it never came, and Joel just grumbled his thanks.

“Liv was just telling me about your wedding day,” Frank said, and Joel’s ears perked up. “Leave it to FEDRA to make something beautiful so impersonal.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed, staring down at his boots. “It’s not the day I woulda given her, if I had the chance.”

And there it was, the first spark of something. He couldn’t give you the wedding you’d probably dreamed of as a little girl, but maybe he could give you something else.

“Say, could I ask y’all a favour?”

Frank was overjoyed at the thought, and Joel again waited for Bill’s protest, but again it never came. Frank promised to look after the details, Bill agreed to build something in the backyard to hold the ceremony, and the plan was hatched.

Joel had felt guilty when the radio started playing. The song had been his idea, and he’d done his best to feign surprise when the song came on. You were too busy worrying to really notice, thankfully, and he knows he’s sure to get an earful at some point or another.

It’s small, obviously, but it’s perfect. Between two tall oaks in the backyard of the main house, Bill constructed a wooden archway, a lattice pattern filling the gaps, and long vines of ivy twisted through. It’s painted white, matched to the few chairs set in front. There are flowers in matching vases either side of the arch, and there are stones that line the path from the house up to the arch, a makeshift aisle.

Tess stands in the middle of the archway, a few pieces of paper in her hands. She looks great, Joel’s told her as much, and she just laughed and thanked him and said, “Just wait til’ you see her.” Frank sits in one of the chairs, one beside him for Bill, another two set on the other side, one for Tess. He’d asked her if she wanted to bring Robin along, but her reluctance to involve her girlfriend in the more dangerous parts of your lives overshadowed her want to have her there.

Joel sees the back door of the house swing open, and Bill steps out first. He extends his hand back inside, and you reach out to take it, lifting the skirt of your dress as you take the two steps down onto the grass. Joel can’t help but chuckle when he sees you’re barefoot, but then his eyes move up your pretty white dress, the flowers in your hair, the giddy smile on your face, and he thinks he might topple over on the spot. He tugs at his tie — yeah, he’s wearing a fucking tie — and Tess must catch his slight sniffle as tears spring in his eyes, because she nudges his arm. “Told ya.”

Frank reaches beneath his chair, producing a small radio with a cassette player. You turn towards them all fully, and Joel can see the shock in your face just as Frank hits play. Bill offers you his arm just as the first chords start to play, and you’re smiling so big it makes Joel’s face ache just looking at you. He wants to kiss that grin, has to stop himself from running full tilt at you and doing it right then and there.

He sees the recognition in your face as you start to walk towards him, your hand tucked into the crook of Bill’s elbow.

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be lovin’ you.

Led Zeppelin. The same tape you once bought him for his truck back in Austin, the same one you played the night the two of you became the two of you once more. 

When the mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

He can’t take his eyes off you, as you get closer and closer. He’s committing every inch of you to memory, for the millionth time. He’s torn between wanting to rip that dress right off of you and wanting to keep you in it for the rest of your life. He’s so fucking in love with you, he can’t believe he has you, that he found you after so many years, that he’s managed to keep you still.

You reach the end of the aisle, maybe three feet from him, and Bill stops you, turns you toward him. He leans in and pecks your cheek, and then turns to Joel, shakes his hand. Joel takes a step forward and Bill places your hand in Joel’s, giving him a nod.

Kind a woman, I give you my all, kind a woman, nothin’ more.

You arrange yourselves in front of the arch, and you turn to hand your little bouquet of daisies to Frank before taking both of Joel’s hands, squeezing your warm fingers around his. “Holy shit.”

Everybody laughs, the song fades out, and Tess clears her throat.

“Well, this is about as close as we can get to traditional, I guess. It’s fitting, I think.”

Joel’s listening, he swears he is. He can hear every word Tess says, every chuckle from Frank and even Bill, every hitch in your breathing. He can hear the birds in the trees and the thump of his own heart. But he’s focused on you, the little twitch of your hands in his, the way you’re smiling at him.

God, he wishes Sarah were here. Her memory still carries a slice of pain — he knows it always will — and though it aches, all he can think of is how well the two of you would have got on. He can still remember your first accidental meeting so clearly, and the times that followed. His daughter was too smart not to see through your “I’m a good friend of your dad’s” introduction, and even after you left for Boston, she had asked after you more than once.

“I like her,” she’d said once, casually, over breakfast, like they were discussing the weather. “She makes you all…shiny.”

“Shiny?”

“Yeah,” she’d continued, poking at her eggs. “All bright and stuff. It’s a good thing.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

And somehow, here you are again, making him feel all bright and shiny, even after the world ends.

“Joel?” Tess prompts, and Joel snaps out of his memory, Tess handing him a piece of paper. “You wanna go first?”

“Oh,” he grumbles, taking the paper from her, reluctantly letting go of your hands so he can see the words he’s written on the page. “Yeah.”

Your brow furrows slightly as he clears his throat, your jaw dropping slightly. “You jackass, you wrote something?”

Joel feels his cheeks go hot. “I did.”

You’re shaking your head, but you’re beaming. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Luckiest man on earth,” he agrees. Then he remembers the paper in his hands. “Now, let me read it to you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, your voice laced with your smile. “I’m listening.”

+

Ten years ago, on this exact day, I walked into a hardware store. I was just lookin’ for a drill bit, stopped in on my way to a job on the other side of Austin. Never in a million years did I think I’d walk down the paint aisle and find you standing there, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, smilin’ at me like I’d won the damn lottery.

Didn’t know back then that I’d fall in love with you so hard. Didn’t know you’d break my heart and mend it all in one shot, that I’d lose you before I really had the chance to love you properly. Then I lost everything, we all did, and I just…

It wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. I was a jackass, when I first found you again, and I know I haven’t been perfect since, but, goddamnit, Liv, I’ll never love another woman the way I’ve loved you. Not in a million years. Not until my heart stops beatin’, and maybe even after that.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, being able to love you the way I do. Luckier still that you agreed to marry me. I know I’m not the easiest sometimes, I know none of this is, but I swear to always love you, protect you, with everything I have left. Forever.

+

You’ve been crying since you saw him standing beneath the arch. You’d given up on wiping the tears when Tess started talking, and then when Joel pulled out his vows, it was even worse, but you didn’t care.

He folds up the piece of paper, stuffs it in his pocket, and you have to hold back from launching yourself at him. Joel takes your hands again, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles, and you take a deep breath. “So that’s why you played eighties,” you say, shooting Frank a look. He’s crying too. “Ten years ago, today?”

Joel nods, lifts your hands to his lips, dots kisses across your fingers. “To the day.”

You take another deep breath. “Well, I would have written something, if I’d known, but all I really want to say right now is that I love you, Joel Miller. You’re right, it’s not easy, but standing by your side, it makes it easier, makes it worth it. I’m the lucky one, to have found you even after all of this, and no matter what comes our way, I got you, baby. Forever.”

+

It’s a sweet kiss. It’s an I love you brushed across his mouth. It’s hands in his hair and your body pressed against his. He tries his best not to mess with the fabric of your dress too much, the material soft as anything against his palms. Faintly, he can hear Tess and Bill and Frank cheering, somebody whistling, and the birds are still singing.

It’s perfect.

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