#my spouse owns more hair care products than me

[pigeontheoneandonly]

Routine

For @autodiscothings, whom I told I would write this thing about eleven million years ago.

The droning buzz of a hairdryer woke Nathaly Shepard from a sound sleep.

It took a solid minute to identify what she was hearing.  Another to raise her bleary eyes to the bedside clock.  0530.  Though an early riser by nature, it had been a very long night, they were in port, and she was relishing the thought of sleeping in, tucked warm into her own bed.

She rolled onto her back, and winced at a twinge in her hip.  Yes, a long and, ah, energetic night, and she had receipts to prove it.  Ones that seemed to get longer as she got older.  Shepard rubbed her eyes, old mascara flaking onto her fingertips, and reached out her arm across the sheets, fully intending to cuddle into Kaidan and go back to sleep.

And kept reaching, all the way to the far edge of the mattress.  Then patted the bedding, and finally looked up towards the bathroom. Right.  She could hear the hairdryer, ergo someone was using a hairdryer, and the only candidate was her intended body pillow.  Not that this answer made any more sense.  For all his years in the service and the early mornings that implied, she’d learned to schedule briefings after nine if she wanted any sense out of him.

Stifling a yawn, she dragged herself to sitting, shivering in the cold canned air of the ship. Wrapped the duvet around her shoulders like a cape and wandered to the coffee maker.  For a minute she made a bleary contemplation of the work required to load the machine, before deciding yesterday’s grounds still had some life in them and simply pressed start.

The hairdryer cut out.  Her ears rang in the sudden silence.  God, that thing was loud.  But as her hearing ramped back up into normal range, she detected another sound coming from the bathroom.  Whistling?

Shepard shuffled across the cabin.  Yes, definitely a whistle, off-key and a semblance of the same song they heard last night leaving Apollo’s.  She pressed her hand to the door’s haptic pad and it zipped open.

Kaidan stopped mid-bar and flashed her a smile.  Shirtless, a towel wrapped around his hips.  “Morning.”

Ordinarily she might have been distracted.  But instead, she stared in dismay at the dozen-odd tubes, canisters, and combs littering her sink.  “What is all… this?”

He raised his eyebrows.  “You don’t remember?”

At the shake of her head, he continued, “We were half asleep.  I said it would be hard to go back to a hot bunk after sleeping in the lap of luxury.”  Gesturing vaguely at her cabin.  “And you said to hell with that, and dragged us downstairs to collect my stuff.  I think you woke up half the crew scrounging around.”

A fuzzy memory of doing exactly that trickled back.  Exhausted Nathaly didn’t typically look after her interests quiet that well. “I guess that’s one awkward announcement we were spared.  But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

She picked up a jar.  “What is all this stuff?”

He gave it a glance.  “That one’s pomade.”

“Ok.”  Then it dawned on her, like an ancient horror rising from the sea.  “These aren’t all hair care products… are they?”

Hoping against every instinct and the evidence of her own eyes the answer was no.

Kaidan considered the array.  “Yeah. I mean, I always have to pick and choose to meet baggage allowance on deployment, and it’s been hard to find anything since the war started, but we make do.”  Then he got a look at her face.  “What?”

Shepard tread carefully.  “You’ve collected quite a few.”

“Well, you must have your own, right?  Since you lost most of your hair.”

That was delicately put.  Cerberus had shaved off eleven years of growth to better access her scalp, and in a little over a year it felt like it’d barely grown out at all.  Especially because she had to trim it to keep it healthy. Impulsively buzzing off the sides a few months after being resurrected hadn’t helped, either.  “I’m more of a wash and wear type.”

An expression of sudden understanding came over his face, a major mystery enlightened.  “You can’t do that with short hair. Especially not with all of it growing out of the top like that.”

“You can’t?”

“No.”  More than a bit of a suppressed chuckle behind that. “Come here.”

He pulled her into the bathroom.  She let the duvet fall off before it dragged through the puddle of water from his shower, and let Kaidan position her in front of the mirror.  He pressed his hand into her head, palm tickling over the buzzed portion above her ear.  “See how it’s sticking up here?”

The left side stood up perpendicular to her skull, a frozen tidal wave of red brushing up against his fingers.  “So? It’ll go down when I shower.”

“Which will only dry it into new and stranger patterns.”  His fingers combed through it with a fussiness that bordered on professional. “Let me show you an easy fix.  If you hate it, you can always wash it out.”

She heaved a sigh. But his hands felt good against her scalp.  “Fine.”

“Great.”  He seized a spray bottle.

A realization came over her.  “You’ve wanted to do this for years, haven’t you.”

“Well…”  He tilted his head back and forth.  “I always assumed you were rushed in the mornings. You get up so early.  I never realized you weren’t doing anything at all.”

Kaidan said this as if it were a great offense.  Which, considering his array of products, maybe it was.  She switched topics as he started to spray, lifting her hair to get at the roots.  “You know, it just occurred to me.  All these years and we’ve never done this.  The whole morning routine thing.”

“Gender-segregated bathrooms will get you every time.”  He scrutinized his work.

“I always thought hairspray came last.”

“It’s not—” Flabbergasted.  “Don’t tell me you’ve been in the navy this long and you’ve never heard of dry shampoo.”

Shepard snorted and leaned forward on the counter.  “Dry shampoo sounds like a wet sandwich.  Useless in every way.”

“It absorbs the grease.”

“So, now I’ve got a head full of greasy powder instead.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Is it possible for you to maybe curb the cynicism until I’m finished?”

This was not what she was looking for at the crack of dawn.  It was particularly not what she was looking for this morning.  But they’d come this far, so she might as well let him finish.  “If it comes out weird, you know I’ll never let you live it down.”

“A little confidence, please.”  But he smirked as he said it, and reached for another bottle.  The label had smudged.  He answered her unspoken question.  “Frizz control.”

She tilted her head to accommodate his motion.  “Feels oily.”

“It won’t when I’ve got it worked in all the way.”  His hands roamed her hair.  This ordeal felt as intimate as it did awkward.  Shepard had no idea which way to tip, emotionally.  Kaidan held her hostage by the roots.  All she could do was wait for it to be over.

Sure enough, as he combed the serum through, it became weightless on her hair—not that Shepard could see any difference in how it looked.  But Kaidan was just getting started.  “Great.  Now the big one.”

Her eyes widened as he pumped an entire ocean of white foam into his palm.  “That’s way too much—”

“Trust me.”

She watched it go into her hair.  “It looks like one of those idiot homemade shampoos.  Like I’ve got egg whites in my hair.”

Kaidan turned her around, so they were face to face, and she couldn’t see the mirror.  “Trust me.”

Shepard sighed and gave up all resistance.  His eyes were on her hair.  Hers fixed on his mouth, watching it thin and thicken as he worked, chewing it just the slightest bit when he got to a tricky part.  She hated standing silent like this.  Nowhere to go, nothing to do, because sometimes it felt like she’d missed him so much that she missed him still, now, even though he was here, right in front of her.  Like missing him was a groove worn down in her emotional treadmill.  A residual reflex.  Or like the metallic ghost of adrenaline in her mouth after she won an unexpected fight, lingering on after its purpose was spent.

All those things she didn’t want to remember came back when there wasn’t anything to say or do but wait.  The sound of his helmet hitting the shuttle frame on Mars.  How pale he got on the flight to the Citadel afterwards. Storming the Presidium in pursuit of Kai Leng, and hearing Bailey say over the comm all the Council’s guards are dead.

Something betrayed her, a flicker in her face, a slight stiffening of her posture, because Kaidan paused and lifted her chin with only slightly sticky fingertips.  “You ok?”

“I’m fine.” She forced an easy smile, reassuring. “I’m just… really happy you’re here.”

“Hmm.”  By all appearances, he didn’t totally buy it, but he only leaned forward and planted a light kiss on her mouth.  Then he made a few final adjustments, and spun her around.  “Ta-da.”

Shepard blinked. Her hand rose without any conscious thought and stopped bare millimeters from her hair.  “Can I touch it?”

“It’d be a piss-poor job if you couldn’t.”

Her fingers ran gently through the strands.  “It’s so soft.”

“Alcohol-free mousse is the way to go.”  He watched her in the mirror.

“It looks…” Intentional.  It had shape, and volume, more organized than natural thickness.  Not just a clump of red falling into her eyes.  “It’ll do.”

His face split into a smug grin.  Her glance was withering.  “Don’t think I’m going to let you do this every day.”

“Nah.  You’ll be doing it by yourself within a week.” Then he laughed as she gave him a shove. “Wanna bet?”

Shepard gave herself another look.  Very grudging.  “Well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do it like this, just sometimes.  Once in a while.”

He put his arms around her, kissed her cheek, and rested his chin on her shoulder.  “Despite what you’ve heard, change can be good.”

Her hand cupped his cheek, as she watched them together in the mirror, ridiculously domestic. Together.  “There’s at least one I could definitely get used to.”

His answering smile reached his eyes, and made it clear he knew she wasn’t talking about hair.

[sheep33hallow]

Little Izuku(BakuDeku) Part 1

Tags: ABDL, Age Play, Age Kink, DD/LB, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Established Relationship

Summary: They've been dating for a while and Katsuki has been wanting to change Izuku's diaper for a while. Izuku feel like it's finally time to indulge more into their kink together.

AO3

_________________________

 Izuku didn’t know what he wanted, or maybe he did? He shook his head. He was staring at a few of his reusable diapers on the bed, wondering if letting Bakugou do what he asked, was worth it.

 They’ve been dating for over a year and explore their ddlb, daddy/little boy, kink for a while now, it’s mostly platonic when they are in play, but Katsuki asking to change him just seemed so intimate. He couldn’t quite get why, since they often have sex when out of play. He was 29, and Katsuki wasn’t his first daddy, but unlike his other daddies, they didn’t know him since they were kids, nor did he let them change him as well.

 He almost felt that letting his boyfriend change his diaper, was like saving anal/virginity for your spouse. A supposed special moment. Katsuki understood it, but has made it very clear that whenever Izuku was ready, he’d be a pro at it. He doesn’t push or mock, but waits and nurtures him like a good daddy should.

 If it wasn’t for the fact that they accidentally saw each other at Blankie-con, they would have never known each other's kink. Izuku had been a regular at the con for a while, and because it was out of the country, he never thought he’d run into someone that knew him. Katsuki was there as a guest with his friend, Eijiro. They run a well known business in the community as designers and layout experts of an adult playroom. You want a high chair or playpen that will fit you? They’re your men.

 It was a shock to his core to sit through that panel, he wanted to run out a few times, but his friend, Ochako, held him down and told him ‘they didn’t wait in line for three hours to let Izuku’s unfounded fears ruin them from learning the new 2021 designs’. Once it was over, Katsuki messaged him on Line-book, to meet up for dinner. How the fuck was he recognized in a large crowed? Katsuki said a natural green-haired idiot in an All-might onesies, unsheed tears and a limited edition All-might plush isn’t hard to miss.

 Dinner went better than expected. He remembers Katsuki being cute in high school, but now he was on a whole other level. He screamed daddy vibes. He wanted to slide into the other side of the booth and be cuddled so badly. He didn’t know if Katsuki was even into boys, so he tried his best to keep his emotions down. They haven’t spoken much since graduating high school, so they just caught each other up to speed and promised to meet up again back in Japan.

 During the first two years, they rebuilt their friendship and Izuku got a few opportunities to model with and test out their products. He was gifted with an adult sized crib, that Katsuki designed himself for his birthday last year. The amount of tears he shed lasted for hours. Ochako told him he should just start calling him Daddy now because no other fool was going to match Katsuki’s vibes.

 He agreed and sent a text later that night to Katsuki. He still doesn't know where his boldness came from that night:

     I: Thank you Daddy for my crib. You always express your love to me through the most kind and careful ways.  

     K: Anything for my baby boy. Daddy is quite proud of you.  

 Laying in his crib in his spare bedroom, he almost threw his phone. His face was aflamed. No…. no...was his Daddy...Katsuki? He was trying to make a joke out of it, but could he have this? Katsuki alway made sure to take care of Izuku whenever they went out even though he made a decent living himself as a Data Analysis.

 He nurtured, spoiled and even yelled at Izuku sometimes when he went too long without a proper meal or sleep. Could he have this? Could he be so bold? The opportunity was there. He just had to get out of his own way.

     I: I’m proud of Daddy too, but you make me mad sometimes.  

     K: Oh, how so?  

     I: Always leaving me alone. Why don’t daddy stay sometimes?  

     K: There are certain boundaries I don’t wish to cross with my baby boy. Are you ready to close the gap and truly be mine?  

     I: I am.  

     K: Then within the next two hours, pack up your favorite little items and come over. We’ll get cosy and talk.  

 To be honest, Izuku didn’t want to leave his crib that night, but Katsuki officially becoming his Daddy was the better option and when he showed up at Katsuki’s apartment, it was proven true.

 They sat on the couch, Katsuki in his sweats and Izuku in his bunny onesie and binkie around his neck, they talked. They expressed their desires for each other was beyond their shared kink. Katsuki said he was nervous to say anything because he has scared off other lovers because his punishments or the aggravation in his voice can be a bit much. Izuku said him crying too much or acting bratty was his problem in his past relationships. These were quirks they’ve known about each other since childhood, so acceptance of each other’s issues has long been cemented.

 Brought back to the present by hearing the washer machine ding, the issues they were scared of showing each other honestly made their scenes better. Kacchan, as he is known now, thrived with a disobedient boy, or Deku, which Katsuki would call his bratty side,  because the spankings could be ruthless and Izuku’s muscular body could handle it. Izuku thrived crying his eyes out with Kacchan doing everything in his power to comfort and shower love onto him.

 Izuku took a picture of the diapers on his bed and started to form an idea as he went to change the clothes over to the dryer. Everyday he is grateful to have a washer and dryer in his apartment because when he used to live at home after college, washing and hiding his little items from his mom accidently discovering it was a chore. She was too helpful sometimes, god bless her.

 He kicked the dryer’s door closed and pressed the on button and walked into the living room. Flopping on the couch, he saw the clock and knew Kacchan would be here in a few hours and would stay the weekend with him. He’s been working from home for the past few days and needed to see and touch a familiar person. He grabbed his Power Ranger’s blanket off the floor and told Alexa to play a random anime.

 Before getting cozy he remembered her needed to text Kacchan the picture of his diapers.

     I: {picture insert}  

     Which one do you want to change me into?  

     K: Oh, Deku all done being a little brat, and gonna let Daddy change his dirty diaper?  

     I: No, I’m still a brat, but I decided why should I change myself, when you can do it for me?  

     K: Now, that is true. I’d do anything for you.  

 Love. This feeling had to be love. It’s what all those people in those ddlg(b) and abdl(adult baby diaper lover) forums talked about when they were able to finally meet someone who understood their kink fully. He never wanted it to end.

     K: Deku, I’ll change you into the red one, and when I visit later don’t shit into it the one I’ll change you out of. Pee is the level I’m at right now.  

     I: Of course. I can understand that. How’s Kirishima? I saw the live Q&A was rough.  

     K: Yeah, he’s fine. We wouldn’t have lasted long in the community if we couldn’t handle trolls. I might host the next one though. Kirishima doesn’t like to use the block button because he thinks some of the trolls are just closeted kinksters, but I’ll block a bitch in a moment.  

     I: Lol. That’s good to hear. Will you bring dinner when you come over?  

     K: Sure. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.  

     K: Give you some time to prepare that diaper. ;-)  

     I: I hate you.lol. The way we talk embarrasses me sometimes.  

     K: Not gonna lie, I feel the same, but it'll be worse when I’m making you cum from licking your pissy asshole. Haha. Bye babe.  

     I: Bye, you dork.  

   How well they’re able to switch in and out of their roles is another thing he loves about their relationship. In one of his last relationships, it was more of a 24/7 deal and it got exhausting when he wanted to talk about other topics besides little things and his ex kept dismissing him to keep the dynamic constant.

 Yes, he was a little, but he was also a man as well. Plus, his little head-space didn’t always keep a consistent age to it either.

 He put his phone on the coffee table and went to scratch his leg when he noticed he needed to shave again. He let out a breath. He wasn’t in the mood to shave, but being smooth made their scenes better. He saw the clock read 11:30am. He had enough time to procrastinate before he forced himself to the bathroom.

 He snuggled deeper into the couch. Sitting on cloud nine at the thought of seeing his Daddy later.

 __________________________

 Kisses were exchanged and dishes were sitting in the sink.

 They were currently sitting on the floor in Izuku’s playroom. Izuku was sitting with his legs under him on a changing mat. He didn’t see the need in getting a changing table, but if tonight goes well he may ask Kacchan to make one to match his crib.

 The leg-less onesie he was wearing was blue with bunnies all over it with green buttons that snapped in the middle of his crotch. His diaper was wet. Kacchan had the red diaper in his hand and was sitting across from him waiting for Izuku to give him the green light to touch him.

 Kacchan was smirking. His eyes were full of life. Waiting.

 Izuku had his All Might plush in his hands. He needed something to ground him throughout this ordeal. He knew he was probably overreacting about everything, but it was just a lot of him. Okay?! He hid his face behind the toy’s head. Hugging it tighter. He took a deep breath and raised his head to make eye contact with his Daddy.

 Kacchan wasn’t smirking anymore. His face looked as if he was contemplating something. The diaper still held firm. Even if he felt that he should suggest calling it a night, he didn’t want to say anything to Deku to disrupt any thoughts that he might be thinking. He wanted Deku to make his decision on his own. Little’s held the most power in a relationship. So he’d wait.

 Izuku finally found some strength to open his mouth. He wanted to see if this could bring them any closer than they already were.

 Izuku raised his hand. “Daddy”

 Katsuki crawled his way over to join Deku on the mat. He grabbed Deku’s hand and Deku felt a kiss upon his fingers before Kacchan laced them together.

 “Is my sweet baby wet?”

 Izuku didn’t respond. He didn’t know what age or ages he would go through tonight, but right now, he was non verbal.

 Kacchan placed the diaper down and let go of Deku’s hand to be able to lift him onto his lap.

 “I see you have All Might.Is he your favorite?”

 Izuku nodded. His eyes became half lid as he was spoken to.

 I love All Might too. He’s a favorite of mine along with Fat Gum.” Fingers stroked his back. “Say, I have a new animated All Might movie that I brought over. Want to watch it?”

 Izuku’s eyes opened a little. A...new movie? A new movie sounded fun.

 “Only one thing standing in our way. You know what that is, my sweet little boy?” Izuku shook his head.

 His answer was Kaccahn palming his butt. Oh! He forgot he was wet.

 He squeezed his plush toy when Kacchan lifted him off his lap and onto the mat. He didn’t like the sudden change and started to squirm away.

 Kacchan held him firm. “I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like it when I do that.” He started to rubbed Deku’s thighs to help calm him down. Deku wasn’t ready yet to forgive him and turned away.

 Kacchan leaned over him and rubbed their cheeks together. “I’m sorry.” He kept massaging Deku’s thighs until Deku’s turned his head to kiss Kacchan on his nose.

 “Am I forgiven?” He was smiling now. Deku gave a small smile in return. “Thank you”

 He leaned back up and settled in a more comfortable position between Deku’s legs. He picked up the diaper and showed it to Deku.

 “You see this? I am going to put this on you.” He ran a finger up and down Deku’s crotch. “Because you are wet.” Deku tilted his head at Kacchan. Shivering a little the more the finger caressed him. “I’ll move slowly.”

 And slowly he did. Popping each button as he opened the onesie. Moving the fabric out of his way. Caressing Deku’s hip as he took his time, inch by inch, as he slid the diaper down his waist. One leg at a time. He moved to put the diaper in the hamper when legs tighten around him.

 He looked back at Deku. “Kiss” The word spoken so innocently. A hand reaching out for him. He ignored the hand. His own hands going to Deku’s cheek that held him as Kacchan laid a small appreciation on his lips. He kissed his nose and forehead as well.

 “I’m going to put the diaper away and get the wipes. Okay?” His only response was a giggle as Deku placed his hand back around All Might.

 He did as he said he would and wiped any unpleasant area that still had a hint of urine.

 The wipes thrown in the trash. The clean diaper sitting ready in his hands.  Deku’s sweet, smooth legs spread eagle while he waited for him to move. Katsuki felt blessed in that moment. Being around a person that exceeds your own expectations in a partner, would do that to ya, he guessed. Love? Oh, he knew he loved Deku, Izuku, his baby boy. He hasn’t said it yet. Not the best person with emotions, but maybe Deku was feeling the same since this night was happening.

 They would talk more after Deku was fully out of his little space. Even after he changed him, he did plan on playing that movie and possibly tucking Deku into his crib later. So the conversation may happen tomorrow. There was no rush. His love was bright and strong for this masucline forest imp. Ha.

 Deku’s ankle was grabbed.

 “Hey” Eye contact was made. “See this?” Waving the diaper.

 He received a nod. “You ready?” Eyes shifted to the wall, but a nod was given.

 From the floor to Kacchan’s shoulder, his leg now laid.

 The diaper was opened, sitting in one hand. Kacchan’s other hand went under his hip; lifting him up slightly.

 The diaper slid under. A smooth butt rested upon the mat again. The diaper the added barrier. Kacchan pressed a soft kiss to his knee before placing it back on the mat.

 One flap to cover the chub and mass of green curls, left side secured, right side following after. Two snaps of buttons filled the air.

 It was done.

 The boy was dry. He….he is a good daddy. As long as Deku was game, this would be happening more often. Katsuki was thriving at this moment. A wide smile on his face. Just staring at the red diaper. His accomplishment.

 Deku felt safe. Felt love. Very few words were floating in his mind, but he felt like no other caretaker could ever be like his Daddy.

 Katsuki secured the onesie and moved to lay down with Deku. He felt tired now. All the build up for a quick task, but taking his time felt right. He looped his arm around Deku to pull him closer. All Might being crushed between their chest.

 “If you can respond, How are you feeling?” Asked Katsuki.

 “Safe…… Cold?” He face tucked in his Daddy’s neck.

 “Shit, you right. You’ve been on the floor for a while.” He moved to get up. A leg on his hip stopped him.

 “La’er”

 His face twisted. “De--”

 “Pease?” He hated that word. “La’er?”

 He grabbed the blanket falling off the crib. Covering only Deku in it. He didn’t need it. He often ran like a furnace.

 He decided to at least change their position. He leaned his back against the dresser with Deku in his lap. Deku made a happy noise and tried to snuggle more into Kacchan.      Like that’s even possible.     Katsuki thought. He kissed his boy’s cheek and a sweet coo was his reply.

       15 more minutes.     He thought.

Part 2

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

sk8 au week - day 2: royalty and soulmate

reki kyan was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he had yet to meet his soulmate. reki has heard the whispers of the people in the town about people who don’t find their soulmates. it’s not that he didn’t have one -he did, for your information, thank you very much- but because reki was from a royal family, and therefore a prince, he was to be married off and did not have the luxury of being with his soulmate. unless his soulmate was from another royal family, but reki had seen where his red string lead: straight into the center of the town below. so no such luck for another noble as his soulmate.

reki’s mother had tried to let him build friendships and hopefully relationships with the other royal children around his age, but reki had dreams about meeting his soulmate and never developed anything more than friendship with the other royals.

reki stared at his red string, eyes tracing its path down into the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. sometimes when he sleep he caught glimpses of a tall, pale, slender figure and bright blue eyes. reki wondered what those eyes would look like mere inches from his own.

suddenly a book smacked into the back of reki’s head, startling him from his daydream.

“what the fuck-“ reki’s head whipped around.

“hey there slime.” said a voice.

reki groaned at the sight of the boy sitting atop his desk.

“hello miya.” he grumbled.

“what’re you looking at?” the young prince asked, a catlike smirk breaking out on his face.

“nothing,” reki said pushing himself up and walking over to miya.

“so is your mom still making you meet that prince for dinner tonight?” miya hummed as he twirled a pen in his hands.

reki’s mother was much more kind with her son and his romantic predicament, compared to reki’s father who was ready to marry his son off without a meeting between the spouses. but after his father ran away with the sevrant girl he impregnated no one stuck to his old rules.

“yes, but i have a plan to escape and i need your help.” reki said placing his hands on miya’s shoulders.

“i’m all ears,” miya said leaning forward as if reki’s mother was outside the door and eavesdropping this very moment.

“ok so i need you to mix up joe and shadow’s schedules so they’re both in the great hall at the same time. we cant have a fancy dinner set up if the cook and florist are in there at the same time now can we?”

“i like what i’m hearing.”

“and then i need you and koyomi to either distract the stable hand while i sneak through the barn.”

“done. is that all you need?”

“yep. the rest is up to me. joe accidentally let it slip that his soulmate is the craftsman in town and that he sneaks out at the exit behind the greenhouses to meet him. so thanks to joe i’ve got my escape route all planned.”

“well look at this, prince reki ditching the feast planned just for him. who would have thought?” miya asked with a laugh.

“well after how the last dinner ended it’s not that surprising.” reki said with a shudder as he remembered the glazed goat falling onto the poor princess who was just looking for a potential marriage partner.

miya let out snicker at the memory. “well now that you say that...”

“anyways i have to hurry if i wanna make it before my mom sends a servant to make sure i’m ready.”

“oh right right let’s go. i’ll go get koyomi and head to the stables. see you soon.” and with a wink miya slipped out the door and was gone. grabbing a cloak from his bed, reki fastened the clasp and dashed out the room after miya.

he was sick of all this arranged marriage bullshit, he was sick of it all. reki just wanted to meet his soulmate and fall in love. he knew his thoughts were selfish though. he was the eldest of the four kyan children and his mom was doing her best to rule a kingdom by herself, so by default his marriage was bound to be political. it was very unlikely he would end up with his soulmate.

and so that’s why reki was going to meet his soulmate tonight. he would meet them and apologize for being a lousy soulmate before heading back to the castle to meet the prince who he was supposed to be dinning with.

for most of reki’s life he soulmate had lead to a place up in the snowy mountains. but within the past few years the string moved into the town below the castle reki lived in. just like fate his soulmate moved to his home town. but it was someone else’s fate, not his. so reki made up his mind weeks ago: meet his soulmate, apologize, then finally agree to a political marriage. his plan would take away his curiously about his soulmate, it would hopefully lessen his guilt about not being able to be with said soulmate, and it would make his mom happy. so why didn’t he like what he was about to do?

ignoring the heavy feeling in his stomach reki pushed on. running quietly through the halls reki hid behind stone pillars and over large plant pots when he needed too. finally reaching the barn reki slipped into there to see miya and koyomi talking away with the stable hand over a loaf of bread and some pieces of cheese.

slipping past the trio and out into the courtyard beyond reki doesn’t make a noise. he holds his breath all the way to the green house, and doesn’t let it out until he’s well into the tunnel behind it. some time ago a tunnel was dug in the large wall protecting the castle, the entrance was hidden by vines on both sides. the cave was known only to a select few.

as reki hurried through the cave he began to think back to some of his earlier suitors. he remembers his best friend who he could have seen himself marrying despite not being soulmates. but his friend got sick and went back to his kingdom and reki never heard from him again.

but tonight was about his soulmate. so reki trudged on, squinting for the cave opening.

before long the prince was stumbling out of the vines and onto the street. luckily it was mostly empty. empty except for a tall man with long pink hair and glasses.

at the sound of someone falling through the leaves he looked up but seemed shocked to see a teenager.

“your not kojiro.” the stranger blurted.

“and your not- actually i wasn’t waiting for anyone and i have no idea who you are...or who kojiro is.”

the man stared at reki for a minute before recognition flashed in his eyes.

“prince reki! what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“i um...well you see-“ but reki was cut off by a rustling behind the vines and a large figure falling out of said vines.

“kaoru you will never believe the day i had...” joe trailed off, eyes catching sight of a panicked reki and surprised kaoru.

“joe?” reki blurted at the same time joe said “reki?”

the two stared at each other before reki made a run for it.

but joe caught him by his hood so reki didn’t get far.

“kid what the hell are you doing here?” joe said apparently forgetting all formalities one should talk to their prince with.

“not of your business! and i could ask you the same!” reki yelled as he struggled to get free from joe’s grip.

“i’m meeting my soulmate. and i’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here?”

reki sagged, giving up the struggle. “same here,”

“you’re meeting your soulmate?” kaoru asked.

“yes, what about it?” reki said crossing his arms. it had all gone so good until now.

“aren’t you supposed to be in a arranged marriage?”

“yes so i’m going to meet my soulmate and apologize before agreeing to an arranged marriage.”

“what?” joe said, surprise causing him to loosen his grip. taking the chance reki dashed away. ignoring the yells behind him reki kept on running. nothing can stop me now, reki thought, i’ve come this far.

eyeing his string, reki ran through the streets watching it get tighter and tighter. reki was too focused on the string that he didn’t see the boy in front of himself until it was too late.

the boys slammed into each other hard, the medicinal products in the other boy’s hands clattering to the ground.

“oh shit sorry-“

“sorry-“

they both spoke at the same time causing the boys to look up at each other abruptly. the boy had bright blue hair that went down past his ears. he was tall and lanky, his skin almost as pale as snow. bright blue eyes that reki had sworn he had seen before. but when reki’s gaze meet the boy‘s hands, his heart stopped. a thin red string connecting reki’s own finger to this mystery boy’s, hung in the air. a red string of fate; a soulmate string. this boy was his soulmate.

eyes snapping back to the bright blue ones reki knew his soulmate saw it too.

“well shit.” reki blurted and the boy began to laugh. it was a sweet noise, like the chime of heavenly bells. and so reki began to laugh too.

“well i guess you’re my soulmate. that makes this search a lot easier then.” standing up and reaching out a hand to his soulmate, reki began to speak. “so you probably know who i am and therefore i can’t marry you -or be with you quite frankly- and i’m very sorry for that and it’s selfish of me but i have the responsibility of the kingdom on my shoulders and i can’t fail my people.”

“what? ‘kingdom’? what are you talking about?” the boy‘s blank stare bored into reki.

“...i’m the prince. and i’m going to be king someday. and as much i want to be with my soulmate -you-, i have to be responsible for my people -which includes you-.”

realization dawned on his face. “ooh, i see.”

“and honestly i don’t care about the difference of ‘rank’ between noble and townsfolk but other royalty do.”

“well my moms a doctor if that means anything.”

“a prominent roll indeed but unfortunately not enough for the in-law of a prince. well not in my eyes, but in the eyes of others.”

the boy hummed in though. “well she was the queen of the kingdom in the mountains before my father fell to illness and some corrupt politician overthrew her and had us banished. do that mean anything?”

“you- you mean you were a prince?”

the boy nods.

“oh my god. oh my god! this may just work then! i may be able to be with my soulmate and still have a marriage that pleases the royal court!” reki’s eyes light up in happiness. “that’s only if you do want to be with me i mean.” he added.

“well you’re my soulmate, are you not? so we’re meant to be together, no?”

“well yes of course. but i wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it and all...”

“of course reki.” the boy said sweetly while reaching out and clasping reki’s hands in his own.

reki almost melted at the use of his given name spoken by his soulmate.

“oh wait can i call you that? is that ok?”

all reki could do was dumbly nod.

“my names langa by the way.”

“langa,” reki said testing out the way the name felt on his tongue. “i like it!” he smiled and watched as langa’s face turned red.

“well should we head to the castle or something to relay the news?” langa asked, turning to reki.

“hmmm i think we can wait a minute. wanna show me around the town?”

“it would be my honor.”

and so the two boys disappeared into the lively bustle of the town as the laughed away and held each other’s hand like a lifeline.

~ ~ ~

@sk8-au-week

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter seven: crash and burn

“we can destroy what we have written but we cannot unwrite it.” -a clockwork orange

She knocked on the door panel. She had no idea as to what time it was, but he did tell her to visit him whenever she could during their stay there in Germany. Sam awaited there in the hallway in her pajamas and she wondered if he even heard her knuckle on the wooden panel. Her body felt as though it was about to weaken and wither away even more from her being wide awake at the dead of night: indeed, a slight chill settled over her shoulders even with it being not too cold there in the hallway.

She knocked again.

“I'm comin', I'm comin',” he called out from the inside the room. A soft click on the other side caught her attention and Scott stepped out of the room with his hair disheveled and his eyes squinted a bit. He tugged his Sam Kinison shirt down his body to maintain modesty, and then he bowed his head and rubbed his eyes.

“Scott?” she asked him in a gentle voice.

“Oh, hey, Sam,” he greeted her as he rubbed his eyes again. “What's going on?”

“I need someone to talk to,” she confessed.

“Um—okay. Come on in.”

He stepped out of the way for her and she made her way into his bright lit room, a small space with merely one queen sized bed right in the middle of the floor: the bed spread had been bunched upon the floor right under the foot of the mattress. His suitcase stood upright against the dresser on the right side of the room. A small white bucket stood upon the table next to that, as did a crumpled up piece of tissue paper.

“Did you just wake up?” she asked him as he stepped around her and took his seat on the edge of the bed.

“I did, yeah,” he replied. “It only feels like I just fell asleep, too.” He cleared his throat and he ran his fingers through his thinning dark hair. “So what's going on?”

“Mind if I sit here next to you?” She gestured to the bed's edge right next to him.

“Not at all. Please do.”

She took her seat right there next to him.

“I spent the day with Alex—and I more or less left him behind at the train station close to the East German border.” Given it was so late, she drew a blank on the actual name of the place.

“What—What do you mean you left him?” Scott gaped at her. Even though he had just woken up, once the words left her lips he was wide awake and in total shock.

“Joey led me away from there because the train was leaving.”

“Did you tell him that Alex was there with you?”

“No, I—I couldn't,” she explained. “It's okay, though, Alex is back with us now. He's safe in the bed right now. But he was—he was pretty upset.”

“Yeah, I would be, too.” He looked on at her, horrified.

“I stood at the door of the train car and I called him when I saw him. He couldn't make it time, though.”

“Oh, I see. The train was aboutta leave and you were calling to him. The fact you didn't tell Joey about it, though.”

“Like I said—I couldn't. It was impossible.”

“Not if he was right there with you.”

“He was kind of away from me.”

“You still could've told him. Seriously, Sam—being on the outside of Anthrax has taught me that Joey's a good listener.”

“Well, it's just—” She cleared her throat. “—they don't really like each other much.”

“So?” Scott shrugged his shoulders.

“So what?”

“So what if they don't like each other? It's imperative that you could've told Joey. Or at least you could've stayed behind.”

“Thing is Joey dragged me onto the train at that point. But—like I said, Alex is back with us so it's neither here nor there at this point. I want to know how I can rectify things between me and him.”

“Well—did you apologize once you saw him again?”

“Yeah, that was the first thing I did.”

“And how'd he react to it?”

“He shouted at me and then he cried and ran back to the room. I stayed behind with Joey—”

“Good idea. You inadvertently gave him space.”

“And then I went to bed early because I felt bad about it. I get in the room and I changed my clothes, and—since it's me, him, Greg, Chuck, and Tiffany, and there's only two beds—I got in bed right next to him and I tried to console him about it right there. I could tell he was awake all the while, too. Oh! I forgot to say that he likened me to Aurora, too. He said that I became the very thing I'm up against and that's what Aurora became.”

“Wow.” Scott raised his dark eyebrows in surprise at her. “How are things with Aurora?”

“Ever since she got married, she's been on such an ego trip. Spends all her time at home with Emile and—they had twins a few weeks ago, too. I mean, you were at Alex's birthday party last year and she announced she was pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah, I was standing right there next to her. I didn't see anything wrong with it, though.”

“But you know, she made his day all about her. And the last time I spoke to her was on the phone over New Year's and—I didn't even recognize her, even over the phone.”

“Wow! So she got married and became a mother. She became a completely different person overnight it seems like.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, when Marge and I got married, I started to feel like a completely different person myself. It's a rite of passage if you will. It's like walking through a hallway but you become a different person at the very end of it. I'm sure you feel like a different person now than you did three years. I'm sure you feel like a different person now than you did on the twenty fifth of September two years ago.”

“I do,” she said in a soft voice as Cliff entered her mind.

“But he likened you to her, though,” Scott recalled what she said right before then.

“Yeah. He said I became the very thing I'm against. I just keep assuming he means the way Aurora's been behaving lately because I went with Joey—” She stopped right in her tracks. “He saw Joey on the train!”

“He probably did,” Scott said.

“He told me he doesn't know what I see in him. But Joey's my boyfriend—I had to go with my boyfriend.”

“There you go then. You answered your own question.”

“There what I go?”

“You chose your spouse instead of your friend. You were all about standing up for him in the face of Aurora choosing her romance instead of her friendship. You wanted her to think of her friend instead. It was something you were advocating up until that point. They have a word for that, Sam. It's called 'hypocrisy.' From what I've seen with him—with Alex, I mean—he absolutely despises that. That's his biggest pet peeve.”

“Is there a way to make it up to him, though? Is what I'm asking.”

“Well, you have to show him that you mean business. That you mean what you say and that you say what you mean. Really show it to him, too. Spend another day with him and show him something that you genuinely feel solid about. Another thing that can help with this is something intense. Show him that you care about him by grabbing his hand and yanking him out of danger rather than merely saying it. At least that's how it works with marriage—I'm sure the same thing can apply to straight up friendship, too. In fact, that also applies to a work relationship, too. One of the last things I told Joey before I left was you better start throwing your weight around here more or I'm out.”

“And he—didn't do it?” Sam was taken aback by that. Joey's playing his guitar felt like something that had been buried for so long and it took Scott's departure for him to realize that. It seemed uncanny in hindsight, that Scott had to leave in order for Joey to blossom as both a lead singer and a guitarist.

“Well, I mean, he kind of did. But I wanted him to be away from the hard drugs and the nonsense that comes with being a rock star. You know, when we were recording Among the Living, our producer kept wanting us to sound like Def Leppard?”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. The original playback was terrible, Sam. Charlie's drums were washed out, you could barely hear Frankie, and Joey's vocals bled out all over the place and it kept pissing me off all the while, too. Charlie was all like 'there's no way we can pull this off, Scott', like he was genuinely worried the record was fucked and we had to scrap it.” He knitted those thick eyebrows at her. “Have you spoken to Danny—Danny Lilker—lately at all?”

“No! Why? What's going on with him?”

“He actually had to scrap Nuclear Assault's second record because the production sounded like total shit.”

“Oh, no!”

“Yeah! When he told me that, I was like 'oh god.' So when Charlie and I were in the studio—all the way down in the Bahamas, no less—I was like 'oh, fuck, don't tell me we're gonna do the same thing Danny did with his record.'”

“So what'd you do?” Sam shuffled her feet underneath her and gave her hair a little toss.

“Turned off one of the microphones and turned up the distortion so there was more of a crunch to it. I told the producer about it and he goes 'okay', really slowly like that. Charlie was extra frustrated so he pounded on his drums extra hard. We were all pissed upon recording and it shows all throughout that record, too. But we saved our asses, though.”

“You still wound up leaving, though,” she recalled.

“Yeah—I was getting married soon and I needed to get away from the lifestyle Joey was living because he took it with him whenever we all got together.”

“I tried to get him out of it, though.”

“Keep getting him out of it,” he advised her. “He doesn't need to be around that shit, and neither do you or I or anyone. I've tried playing guitar while drunk and it's just—it just doesn't work out.”

“So you think maybe I should reach out to Alex in some way.”

“Yeah, actually show him something. He won't believe it otherwise. That kid is smart, Sam—his bullshit detector is more astute than that of most older adults.”

“Do you have any ideas?” she asked him, to which Scott shook his head.

“I'm afraid I don't,” he confessed. “I've crossed paths with him a few times in the past and even though it's enough for me to come to a conclusion with him that he's perceptive, it's not enough for me to tell you that.”

Sam sighed through her nose, and then she turned her attention to the dresser before them.

“You said you share a bed with them down the hall?” he asked her.

“Yeah. Me and him, and also Greg. I'm like nestled in between the two of them. I had to slide out from underneath the covers just to get out bed. You know, so I wouldn't to wake either of them up.”

Scott snickered at that.

“What?” she demanded, and he snickered some more.

“What!” she scoffed.

“Nestled in between two boys,” he chuckled.

“You know, Chuck and Tiffany made that exact same joke,” she pointed out. “How I'm in between two boys.”

“Kissin' all over ya and messin' around.”

“Scott!”

“You know, more often than not threesomes consist of two girls and one guy. But that's—that's kind of hot, though. Blowing two dicks at the same time—or blowing one of 'em and have the other lick you up. Or handling one of them while one of them is kissing you.”

Sam rolled her eyes at that.

“C'mon,” he teased her, “—I'm just tryin' to cheer ya up! I know Joey would do the same for you.”

“Yeah—you know, he would.”

Scott gazed on at her with a thoughtful look on his face once more.

“I haven't even told Marge this,” he began again, “but sometimes I think of going back to Anthrax. Like I think of calling Charlie and talking to him about it.”

“What's stopping you?” she asked him and he raised his left hand to her. “Oh, right, right... you can still do it, though. Don't make the same mistake Aurora made, Scott.”

He sighed through his nose at that.

“Hey—I have an idea. Seeing as it's hard for you to get back into that bed—would you like to sleep here for the rest of the night? It's late right now, too.”

“I don't really wanna bore you being here, though,” she pointed out.

“Why would it bore me?” he asked her.

“Well, because I'm just gonna go right back to sleep, though.”

“You know, being bored to tears is worse than being baffled to tears.” He patted on the bed behind him. “Come on. Come to bed.”

She sighed through her nose and then gingerly, she crawled back to the headboard and she lay down close to the edge of the mattress. Scott crawled back towards her as well and he lay down next to her with about six inches between them.

“I'm not gonna bite, you know,” he promised her.

She then remembered that he was married, and she was by legality herself. There was no way they would touch each other, or at least that was her assumption. She looked over at Scott and those thick dark eyebrows raised up a little bit to her. She sighed through her nose again and she inched closer to him. Still with a few inches between them, she lay there on her back.

“Besides, you looked like you were about to roll right off of the edge of the bed, too,” he noted as he sat up and made his way across the room. He switched off the light and he hesitated for a few seconds so his eyes could adjust to the darkness. Soon, she caught the sound of the covers next to her rustling. She helped him pull them up to her neck and shoulders.

Even though she was legally married at that point, she realized that she never once climbed in bed next to Bill. She had a room all of her own, but she wasn't any part of his family however. He just had there because he needed someone else there with him.

And she left him there. She left him there at the house.

But she couldn't afford to care however, especially after how he sealed up the whole entire house the couple of days before. He had to be left to his own helm and if that meant burning his own house down just to get inside, then he would do it. She felt more at home in New York, anyway, especially since Marla still kept her couch.

Within time, she fell asleep, and she soon awoke to Scott laughing at something.

Sam rolled her head over the plush pillow to find him seated cross legged right next to her.

“What's going on?” she asked him in a broken voice.

“God, this daytime German TV is hilarious,” he told her. “Can't understand a single word, but it's funny nonetheless, though. We even get channels from across the border, too, which is interesting.”

And she couldn't help but think of Alex right then, there in the bed down the hall with his socks and his little shorts.

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” she asked Scott.

“Me? No, not yet. Why?”

Sam nibbled on her bottom lip and then she peeled back the covers. She climbed off the bed and almost fell face first on the carpet.

“Bring back some streusel, please?” he called after her.

“Sure—” she called back as she hurried out the door and into the hallway. She returned to the room down the hall where Chuck and Tiffany were just coming right out the door themselves.

“There she is,” she said to Chuck.

“Hey, where've you been?” Chuck asked Sam as part of his good morning to her.

“I was just hanging out with Scott,” she promptly replied, “do you know where Alex is?”

“He's in the lobby getting breakfast—we were just going there ourselves,” Tiffany replied as she tucked a lock of golden blonde hair behind her ear.

Sam then doubled back to the lobby, and there by the window, all by himself, was Alex, with nothing more than a cup of coffee in hand. He flashed her a cold glare but he never moved from his spot as she came closer to him.

He held the cup down in front of him, with his hands wrapped around the base.

“Alex, listen to me,” she started, out of breath. Fuming, he took another sip of coffee but the fact that he glanced off to the side meant that he wasn't in fact listening to her. Indeed, as she cleared her throat to say something more to him, he downed the rest of it and stood up.

“Alex—Alex—listen to me. Listen to me, please.”

“Hey, Sam!”

She turned her head the other way and Frank and Joey waved at her from the lobby's entrance. But the boy who walked away from her was more important at that moment.

“Alex!” she called after him, and he kept on walking out of there through the other way. “Alex, wait—”

She chased after him even as he picked up the pace. But before he reached the door, she reached out to him and gently touched his arm. He tore around and glared at her, furious.

“Alex, please listen to me,” she begged him.

“I'm listening,” he snapped, disgusted.

She thought about what Scott had told her in those early hours. Her bottom lip trembled at the sight of him before her, so cold and hard. Colder than she had ever seen him before then.

“For crying out loud, speak, woman!” he barked.

“I wish there was something I could do to fix things,” she blurted out.

“Like what?” he demanded as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I—I don't know,” she stammered, and yet she couldn't cry. He closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He then shook his head and turned away from her.

He kept on walking to the glass front doors of the lobby, still with his arms folded across his chest. Sam's eyes were as dry as bone even as she watched him go onward to the curb. She stood there with her arms down by her side.

A pair of hands covered her eyes from behind her right then.

“Hi, Zelda,” she said.

“What the fuck! How'd you know it was me?”

She lowered her hands and set them on Sam's shoulders. Zelda peered into her face with a big beaming smile.

“How'd you know that was me?” she asked her again.

“I had a hunch of sorts,” Sam replied with a shrug and Zelda burst out laughing at that. “Are you ladies playing at Monsters of Rock?”

“Nah—I wish, though! We're just passing through here—playing in Dusseldorf tonight and tomorrow! And then we're gonna be in Amsterdam on Friday.”

“Aw, cool!” Sam stepped out from the doorway and she faced Zelda straight on.

“And then there's going to be a big air show not too far from here. Min and Rose both wanna go to that, but we're happy to treat all of youses to it.”

“An air show? Like, at a military base?”

“Yeah! Joey actually suggested it to us but the two of them were like, 'yeah, let's do it!'”

“When is it?” Sam asked her.

“Um, Sunday, I think? It's the morning before Anthrax and Testament have to take the stage but I think they can make it, though. Even though we're not playing at Monsters, we'll try and catch those two shows, though.” Zelda winked at her.

If nothing else, Sam could be treated rather well by everyone else there in Germany.

In fact, Chuck, Tiffany, and Eric all treated her to a road trip up to Dusseldorf to see the Cherry Suicides as they opened for that one band out of Seattle that Alex had spoken about that night in Providence: Soundgarden.

It was the first trip over to Europe for both bands nonetheless, and while the Cherry Suicides were as tight and big as ever, the second band was just as interesting. The bassist, an Asian man with long fine black hair past his shoulders, and the lead guitarist, a brown skinned man with a long dark beard upon his face, stood in mirrored positions from each other on the stage. The lead singer, meanwhile, had long luxurious jet black curls sprawled over his chest and shoulders, such that the mere sight of him made Sam think of Joey: the big soaring voice only added to the feeling as well. And all the while, she could hardly see the blond drummer in the back: but every so often, she caught a glimpse of that rich blonde wave back there.

Where the Cherry Suicides were powerful, fast, and toeing the line of thrash, they seemed to bounce and meander around, much like the riff that Alex had played for Greg and Eric in the hallway.

And also where the Cherry Suicides were obviously girly and feminine in their prowess, Sam almost expected these four men to have big thick muscles on their bodies. These four strong men with stoic expressions plastered on their faces.

“These guys are loud,” Tiffany shouted over the wall of noise they were making; they stood at the back of the room and they still had to yell at one another.

“Good loud, though,” Eric shouted back, “you know, there's good loud and shit loud.”

“The girls are good loud!” Sam joined in.

“Yeah, and Testament is, too!” he laughed at that.

Something about them baffled her as well. They were called Soundgarden, and yet the name didn't seem to fit them. They were different and yet they could fit a bill with Metallica, Anthrax, and Testament. Given both bands were playing for two nights, Zelda offered to let the four of them stay in their van with them overnight but Chuck talked her out of it.

“We'll see you ladies in a couple of days, though,” he assured her with an embrace. If Sam had to fall asleep in the back of the van, she would, just so she wouldn't have to see Alex in bed next to her that night.

A six hour van ride back down to Munich and she indeed fell asleep next to Eric there in the back seat. If nothing else, she would spend the whole day with Joey instead, and she knew she would have to as well given their lack of a date following her return from Schweinfurt.

She lifted her head and she peered out the van window at the royal violet early morning sky over the top of Munich. She turned to Eric, who had leaned his back against the wall of the van and folded his arms across his chest. He was another one whom she never got to hang out with all that much, and yet she still managed to fall asleep right next to him in the back space there.

She knew Joey wasn't awake yet and thus she stayed back there for a little while longer with her eyes closed and the back of her head pressed flat against the van wall. Soon, the first rays of fresh sunlight shone into the windshield and Eric groaned inside of his throat.

Chuck and Tiffany had gone off somewhere from there; but she finally opened her eyes and she gazed on at the column of amber sunlight as it shone through the glass before her. She thought of that morning back in New York when Cliff was alive and they enjoyed a fresh cup of Mexican hot chocolate together. She thought back to Joey's birthday whereby they stayed in that cabin together.

If only there was a way. If only there was a simple way she could make it up to Alex and tell him that she never meant to upset him or leave him there close to the border. A simple way in which she could snap her fingers and bury the hatchet between the two of them. She sighed through her nose and she looked over at Eric and his slumbering face.

For all she knew right at that very moment, it was close to being hopeless. She need not get worked up about a lost cause such as him. She could just go back to Joey from that point onward.

Careful not to wake him, she opened the side door of the van and she climbed out to the pavement. She left it slightly ajar so Eric could get out himself by the time he woke up.

Even though she spent the morning with Joey and they took a walk about the streets of Munich together, she still had Alex in her mind. All alone there in the hotel room and with no one to talk to given Greg always left the room and Chuck and Tiffany were doing as many couple things as her and Joey. Even though she crawled into bed next to Joey back in his hotel room, she still wished for a way on the other side of that wall, just so she could speak to Alex.

Show him. Give him her word, just like how Scott had told her.

She put her arms around Joey's slender waist and she lay her head against his chest. She took in the smell of his cologne and the soft soap that riddled his rich, sunbathed skin. She kissed the side of his neck before she tucked her head right underneath his chin. She slid her hands down his back and onto the backs of his thighs to feel his softness.

There had to be a way. There had to be a way as she fell asleep in Joey's lanky arms.

And for all she knew, the show the next day could be one to remember.

Indeed, when she and Joey awoke the next morning, and he was all eager smiles, she had to force herself to smile back at him. If only she could tell Joey what she was feeling right at that moment, about him and about her friendship with Alex, that is if she had a friendship with him anymore.

Joey told her something about the new album being dedicated to her and Marla for being such good friends to them, but she never properly paid attention aside from the mere nod of her head and a void smile. She stood there off to the side of the stage as Anthrax performed another brand new song for the German crowd before the large dark castle. They called it “Now It's Dark” and it felt so appropriate once the sun had set over them.

Within a few miles of the East German border and she knew the darkness had settled all around her. If only she had her journal there with her so she could craft out a piece of art so as to demonstrate her feelings at that moment. All the black ink and the cold swirls in the wake of Anthrax's darkness. In the wake of the psychedelic darkness that Soundgarden had bestowed onto her.

So much great art she wanted to make right then and yet all she could do was stand there and watch the four of them perform all of those German people.

Soon, Testament took to the stage. Alex stood on the far end with that little red guitar pressed against his body and those jet black curls sprawled down over his face so she couldn't look into eyes. Chuck's vocals never sounded so strong and it was obvious that Louie and Greg had taken notes of tightness from Rosita and Zelda.

They, too, performed a new song, and one that was new to her given she hadn't listened to The New Order yet, called “Trial By Fire.”

Her mouth dropped open as Alex put his foot up on the amp and appeared to perform black magic upon the red guitar. The disgruntled look on his face and the way in which he tossed his hair back with a flick of his head.

He was giving his all right then and there for them. He was giving his all right then and there for her.

Indeed, he turned towards her side of the stage and walked towards Greg, but her eyes locked onto his for a few seconds. And yet it was more than enough for her to feel his wrath. Those deep eyes as cold as the California mountains in the winter time. Colder than she had ever dreamed of before.

Colder than she had ever imagined and yet burned into her memory even as she made her way back to the room with Joey.

The Cherry Suicides kept their promise and treated them to that air show the morning before Anthrax and Testament took to the stage again later that night. Sam tied her hair up in a tight ponytail and she wore her best low cut white blouse for Joey, who in turn put on a bright yellow Anthrax shirt and a little pendant in the shape of a music note. He held hands with her as they walked right behind Chuck and Tiffany to the air base together: Alex was right in front of them, all by himself still, while Zelda and Rosita were laughing it up with Eric and Greg at the back of the line. They strode past a chain link which closed off the base from the main road; far across the field was a stretch of field where all the spectators gathered around. They were running late, or least that was according to Rosita, but then again, neither of them wanted to turn something like this down, especially since Joey himself recommended it to them.

Despite Joey's soft hand and the memory of holding him whilst they lay in bed together was still fresh in mind, she still kept her eye on that head of jet black curls before them. Once in a while, he turned his head and she spotted that little plume of gray over his brow.

Joey squeezed her hand and then he lifted it up and kissed the back.

“Quite the date, don't ya think, babe?” he asked her with a big beaming smile on his face.

“Yeah, definitely,” she replied; she gazed beyond him to the protective metallic awning across the way and she wondered really how many people were going to be there that day.

At one point, Alex turned his head and he pointed at something.

“Oh, hey, yeah,” Chuck said. Sam looked off in that direction as three planes took off, one right after the other. They had to hustle if they wanted to see the main attraction.

But if only there was a way. If only there was a simple way she could make it up to Alex, even with Joey right next to her. A simple way in which she could snap her fingers and make everything better between the two of them. She sighed through her nose.

For all she knew it was hopeless. She need not get worked up about a lost cause such as him.

She could in fact just go back to Joey from that point onward—

 BOOM.

 The group halted right in their tracks right before the air field.

“What the hell was that?” Tiffany wondered aloud.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Chuck pointed up to the sky, at the planes as they crashed into each other on the far side of the air field. Shards of metal sailed over the field. The group ducked back from the fence all the while.

Sam felt something hold onto her arm.

Alex yanked her down to the ground to get her out of potentially harms' way. Metal tore and shattered apart behind them, and Alex yanked her away from there. Horrified, Sam covered her eyes. There was another crashing sound and that time Alex yelped out like a frightened dog.

“OH MY GOD!”

He almost stumbled onto the sidewalk. She felt someone grab her arm: she uncovered her eyes to see Eric and Louie guiding them away from the scene of the accident. Sam's ears rang and thus she could hardly hear what Eric was yelling back at her.

They ran away from there and across the street to the awning and the hangar: Sam clutched onto Alex's shirt sleeve and she dragged him further away from the fence.

“Get away from there!” Eric sounded as though he spoke through a metallic tube. “Let's get the hell away from here!”

She peered back in time at the sight of the massive bright fireball as it fell right into the crowd near them, right before their eyes. All those people. Sam turned away from the sight so she wouldn't have to witness it, but it already burnt itself into the backs of her eyelids.

And it was right then she realized what the mysterious man in her dreams meant when he said that the clock was her friend.

That could have been any one of them in the crowd.

That could have been any one of them on the bus.

Their touch before her. The last time she could've have touched them.

Cherish every moment, every touch.

Alex panicked right then and there: his chest heaved from the horror behind them. Sam stood before him with her hands clasped onto his shoulders. The tears in his eyes. The way the color washed out from his face. It was so close to them and yet they were so far away from it, and yet he panicked anyway.

“Oh my god—are you okay?” she asked him. He looked on at her with a look of fear in his eyes. Big like marbles. His brow tightened up with alarm. His face twisted with sheer terror.

“Are you okay?”

She never saw him this vulnerable before.

She put her arms around him and held him close to her. He buried his face in her shoulder like a scared little boy. He wept at the sight: indeed, every time she blinked her eyes, she kept on seeing it there. Even as the fire ball dissipated and vanished into thin air.

“It's okay,” she gently cooed right into his ear. The distant wail of sirens caught her attention. “It's okay—I got you. I got you. You're okay.”

He shuddered and shook in her arms, but she still held his body close to her. She stroked his back and gently rocked him.

“It's gonna be okay,” she assured him in a near whisper. “Everything is gonna be okay. Help is on the way—it's okay.”

Sam held Alex's head close to her chest and he closed his eyes all the while. Eric and Tiffany surrounded them and Chuck stood right before them; the crown of Alex's head smelled clean and soft, as if he had just washed his hair. His hair meanwhile felt as soft as the fur on a teddy bear. Indeed, it was like holding a little teddy bear.

Even though she had no children, she had to hold him as if he really was her own.

The sirens soon approached them to tend to the fire and all those spectators who had been vaporized by it.

Her memory faded a bit from the feeling, and the next thing she knew, she was seated right next to him at the back of the ambulance. The medics had draped blankets over their shoulders and gave them hot cocoa even though it was warm, late August day. Joey took to another ambulance with Chuck and Tiffany while Eric, Zelda, Rosita, Minerva, and Morgan gathered with a few of the medics. Alex sipped on his cup and he sighed through his nose.

He then cleared his throat.

“Thank you for that, by the way,” he told her in a low voice, and she turned her attention to him.

“It was all I could do for you right then,” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulders, “was get you away from the fence and to safety. We were a ways away from it, but—still. We needed to get away from there.”

His fingers quivered a little bit on the side of the cup.

“Hey—” she started again as she realized what she had been given right there. He glanced up at her.

“I really meant it when I apologized to you the other night. I didn't ever mean to leave you behind at the train station.”

He shook his head.

“Nah—the next train was coming in about an hour so I just hung out there until then. The conductors and the workers in there were all real nice to me because, you know—ich bin ein Amerikanischer. Right?” He showed her a little smirk.

She giggled at that and then she gasped in amazement.

“That was good,” she remarked.

“The guy in the ticket booth taught me that one. Anyway, they told me to stay there because those soldiers were literally around the corner there. It was pretty nerve racking, though, to be there near the border of East Germany. But I'll tell you this.”

“What's that?”

“It was... actually kind of cool. I remember thinking, 'holy hell, I am literally a stone's throw from the Soviet Union. Li'l ol' me, of all people.' I never thought I would be that close to it. And like I said, that wall over in Berlin is going to come down some day. When I was talking to one of the conductors—I guess they want nothing more than for Germany to be a single country again. Apparently everyone in East Germany does, too.”

“So it's a matter of 'when',” she followed along.

“Right!” He sipped on his hot cocoa and gazed down at the ground.

“One of the guys in there also taught me a little Russian. You know, just being within range of it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“'Thank you' is spasibo—'thank you very much' is bol'shoye spasibo. 'Where's the bathroom' is gde vannaya and—I actually just asked him this for the hell of it.”

He turned his attention to her with his eyebrows raised and she stayed still there in anticipation. He cleared his throat.

“Ya khochu—” He lifted his gaze a bit as he recalled it. “—chtoby ty potseloval menya.”

“Come again?” she asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders at that. “Alex, what was that? That sounded dirty. Come on, you are my best kept secret after all.”

“Weird that you assume that,” he teased her as he took another sip of cocoa. “He goes 'little young man from America! We keep you safe from danger down street.'” He imitated a Russian accent at that and Sam giggled some more. They fell back into brief silence until she cleared her throat.

“So—second show tonight?”

To which he nodded.

“Yup, second one and then—we go home. Anthrax keeps on going, but we skedaddle back there.” He paused for a few seconds. “You know, it's funny. I don't really wanna—I don't want to leave.”

“I don't, either,” she admitted. “I kinda like Germany.”

“I do, too.” A little smile crossed his face right then. “I liked England, too.”

“I loved England,” Sam recalled. “Marla and I both loved it.”

“You know what's the one thing you and I still hadn't done yet?” he asked her, complete with a thoughtful expression across his face.

“What's that?”

“Visit Copenhagen.” She paused.

“Oh, damn!” She remembered it, too, and she tilted her head back and groaned in her throat at that.

“I was talking to Lars just yesterday over the phone,” he continued, “and I guess they're up there right now. He told me he'll send us Danish ice cream. Real Danish ice cream, too.”

“I suppose you wanna give me some of that,” she teased him, to which he shrugged.

“If you want. I asked him, 'why can't you just give it to us now?' and he goes 'because I'd have to drive down to Munich from Copenhagen and by then it'll be all melty' and I was like 'alright, alright.'”

She giggled at him again as he took another sip of cocoa. Joey's words from the night of her birthday rang through her mind at that moment. Soon they would have all the ice cream at their helm. She knew Alex would have all the ice cream he could ever ask for, especially if last night's show was anything to go by.

The only thing she could hope for was if everything went well.

Anything could happen. One of them could have a fatal bus crash on a road somewhere. One of them could burn up in a fireball near an air base somewhere. One of them could have no time left.

The clock was her friend, and she hoped to keep it that way, just how she hoped to keep Alex her best kept secret.

[thesoobfiles]

pregnancy pains – a. skywalker

Request: anon, Anakin Skywalker x Reader where maybe she’s giving birth to the twins and Anakin comes back but he’s not with the dark side? Also, I wanna make the Reader like Padmé.

Words: 2.1k

Summary: Representative (L/N) of Aiphos is the secret wife of Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. Her Senator friends know she’s married, but to who they have no idea. She’s also 9 months pregnant and ready to pop; however, the stress of the war isn’t making her pregnancy any better. What will become of Mr. and Mrs. Skywalker and their child?

A/N: i really do feel bad when i pump out requests so late; but, please understand i try to write as often as i can. also, Aiphos is a product of my imagination to keep accuracy on all other planets in the Star Wars universe. i’d like to add i wasn’t sure how much anon wanted the reader to be like Padmé so i tried to give them a similar speech pattern and made them both involved in politics.

-

“Here, let me help you.” Senator Bail Organa hurries to my side as I attempt and wobble out of the Senate meeting.

“Thanks, Bail.” I say as I accept his help, placing my arm around his neck while his arm goes to my side.

“You shouldn’t be flying at this stage in your pregnancy, (Y/N).” Bail reminds me as we walk out of the building and over to my speeder.

“I know, I know; but it’s only to my apartment. It’s not like I’m flying all the way back to Aiphos.” I reason.

“Ugh.” I groan as I bend over in pain. The baby is kicking again. Fiery little one, just like Anakin…

“Are you alright? Should we go to the hospital instead?” Bail asks me with concern, “The Hospital Plaza is just around the corner…”

“My water hasn’t broken yet and the contractions haven’t started, so I’m going to have to decline.” I reply with a strained voice, still in pain from the baby’s little kicks.

Bail stands between me and my speeder and grabs a hold of my arms, “Are you sure?” he asks, putting emphasis on every word.

“Yes, Bail. I think I’ll be fine; my husband returns home tonight and I’m sure he’ll take care of me.” I say to try and put Bail at ease. Earlier this evening, Anakin left to handle some Jedi business involving Master Windu and Chancellor Palpatine. He said he’d come back soon and I’m hoping soon is tonight.

“You aren’t the only one to worry about my safety; Padmé lent me 3PO so I wouldn’t have to fly alone.” I say as Bail releases my arms and my speeder is now in view.

“Mistress (Y/N)! How wonderful it is to see you!” C-3PO announces from the pilot’s seat of my speeder.

“It’s nice to see you too, 3PO. Even though we just saw each other before the meeting.” I remind the gold-plated protocol droid.

“Yes, but those meetings seem to drone on for eternity.” He replies back as he resettles into the speeder.

I giggle at his statement and look back at Bail, “Be safe.” He reminds me.

“Always am!” I respond as I walk closer to the speeder, “The next time you see me, I won’t be wearing maternity dresses anymore!” I joke as I sit beside 3PO. I hear Bail chuckle as he waves goodbye. I wave back as 3PO starts up the speeder and zooms off.

“Have you told anyone of the marriage?” I ask curiously. C-3PO and R2D2 were the only witnesses Anakin and I had at our wedding in order to keep it secret.

“Of course not, Mistress (Y/N).” He replies, “Your engagement is a secret only R2 and I have the pleasure of knowing.”

“Not even Padmé?” I ask for reassurance.

“Not even Mistress Padmé.” He confirms.

“Excellent.” I say, feeling a little more at peace knowing no one knows of our marriage.

“Will Master Anakin be there when we arrive?” C-3PO asks curiously.

“He said he would return soon; I just hope soon is tonight, but I’m not really sure…”

As soon as I finished my statement, I notice my apartment coming into view. The rest of the ride is quiet as we approach the building. 3PO lands the speeder and climbs out. He then rushes to the passenger side to aid me.

“Thank you, 3PO.”

“My pleasure, Mistress (Y/N).”

We walk inside to see Anakin meditating in front of the fireplace, the only light source in the apartment aside from the moonlight shining in through the giant window. From what I can see, he’s still wearing his Jedi robes and his hair is a mess.

“Hello, my love.” He says as he gets up from his spot to come hug me.

“Ani.” I say as I wrap my arms around him, “Did everything go ok? With Master Windu and the Chancellor?”

“Everything went…” He trails off.

- 10 minutes ago –

I came running down the hall to see Master Windu with his lightsaber at the Chancellor’s throat.

“You are under arrest, my lord.” Master Windu says. He suddenly takes notice of my presence and looks in my direction.

“Anakin,” Chancellor Palpatine starts, “I told you it would come to this. I was right, the Jedi are taking over!” He wheezes.

“The oppression of the Sith will never return!” Master Windu assures him, “You have lost.”

“No, no, no,” The Chancellor’s voice changes from smooth and manipulative to deep and raspy, “You will die!” He shouts as he shoots lightning out of his fingers at Master Windu. He blocks it with his purple-bladed lightsaber and continues to defend himself, but struggles to gain control.

Chancellor Palpatine struggles as well, to say his next few words, “He’s a traitor!”

“He is the traitor!” Master Windu retorts as he pushes his defense against the Chancellor.

“I have the power to save the one you love.” Chancellor Palpatine wheezes as his skin begins to change from the contact of his own lightning, “You must choose!”

“Don’t listen to him, Anakin!” Master Windu urges me as he pushes his lightsaber further in the Chancellor’s direction.

“Don’t let him kill me.” Chancellor Palpatine says as the lightning begins to stop flowing from his fingertips, “I can’t hold it any longer… Anakin, help me.”

“I am going to end this, once and for all.” Master Windu states with determination in his voice.

“You can’t, he must stand trial.” I reason with him.

“And what of Count Dooku?” Master Windu inquires, “Did he not deserve to stand trial?”

I widen my eyes at his statement. I’m caught off-guard by his reminder and am rendered speechless; he has a valid point.

“Remember, it was the Chancellor that told you to kill him.” He reminds me, “Why would a member of the Senate and leader of the Republic urge you to kill him when there was another way?”

“He-he’s distracting you, Anakin!” Chancellor Palpatine quickly shouts.

“Think about it, Anakin…” Master Windu urges me to take into consideration the situation at hand, “Does ‘he was too dangerous to be kept alive’ ring any bells?”

I look up at Master Windu and he looks back at me with hope and I look down at Chancellor Palpatine and he looks up at me with fear, for he said those words to me not too long ago.

“I can sense you are torn between decisions, young Skywalker. May I add that the only reason the Council hasn’t granted you the status of Master was because we were afraid the Chancellor was using you to spy on us?” Master Windu provides, “Once this ordeal is over, the Council has decided to give you the title of Master.”

“Empty promises, Anakin! He just wants to hinder you from making the best decision!” Chancellor Palpatine shouts.

“Make the right choice, Anakin.” He says calmly, ending his argument. I think about the Chancellor and his allegiance, about the Jedi Council and their decisions, and about (Y/N) and what’s best for her.

“I understand what needs to be done, Master.” I reply and step back from the fight at hand. Master Windu nods in my direction and quickly thrusts his lightsaber into the former Chancellor’s heart. He gasps and dies moments later.

- 5 minutes later -

“… great. Everything went great.” Anakin finally states with a smile on his face.

“That’s wonderful, Ani.” I say as I begin to feel something trickle down my leg. I step back from our hug only to double over in pain.

“(Y/N)! Are you alright?” Anakin asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Yeah,” I manage to say, “my water just broke. No big deal…”

“Oh dear.” I hear 3PO say from his place by the couch.

Anakin sweeps me off my feet with ease and rushes out the door. I grunt as I hold my stomach in an attempt to take away the pain.

He kisses my forehead, “Don’t worry, I’m taking you to the hospital.” I moan in response.

He runs to my speeder and gently places me in the passenger seat. He jumps into the pilot seat and wastes no time in speeding away from the apartment.

“Ah!” I shout as the baby continues to kick me.

“The contractions… Are they close together or far apart?” Anakin asks me and I respond with another proclamation of pain.

“Close together it is.” He says, somehow going faster than he already was.

Within a couple seconds, we are outside of the Hospital Plaza. Not the best place in my opinion, since this hospital is so close to the Senate building, but who am I to complain when there’s a child pushing itself out of me?

Anakin messily parks the speeder in the hospital parking lot. He hurriedly jumps out, rushes to my side and picks me up in his arms once more, running into the hospital.

“Someone, help! She’s going into labor!” Anakin shouts in the waiting room of the hospital. I groan after his plea and within seconds, a doctor and a couple of medical droids come with a stretcher. Anakin places me on the stretcher and follows them as they push me into an all-white room with various medical equipment.

The doctor stands in the doorframe and holds his hand out in front of Anakin, “Spouse only.” He states in a deep voice.

“Well good thing I’m her husband.” I hear him reply sassily. If I weren’t in so much pain, I might have laughed.

The doctor ushers him in, closes the door and shuts the curtains to the observation window.

“Agh!” I shout as I have been doing for the past couple minutes.

By the time Anakin comes over and holds my hand, they’ve already laid me down on the bed in the room and prepared me to have this baby.

“Push.” The mechanical voice of the medical droid instructs me.

“Well what do you think I’ve been doing for the past few minutes?!” I ask, exasperated.

Anakin chuckles beside me and holds my hand. I squeeze his hand with all my might to hopefully relieve some of the excruciating pain I’m in. He bends down and whispers sweet nothings into my ear.

“It’s ok.”

“The head is visible.” The droid states.

“This will all be over soon.”

“The lower body is all that is left.” It drones.

“I’m here for you.”

I close my eyes as I focus on the sound of his voice and bringing this child into the world.

“It’s a boy.” The medical droid says as it hands the baby over to the doctor.

“Luke.” I say, still in pain. Something tells me, Luke isn’t the only baby I’m giving birth to today.

The doctor finishes cleaning up Luke and gives him to Anakin.

“Hello there…” He says as he cradles the baby.

“There is another one on the way.” The droid confirms my suspicions.

“What?” Anakin says, surprised. He looks over at me, but I’m too focused on getting this other baby out. This one is a lot less painful and comes out relatively quickly.

“It’s a girl.” It says, handing her to the doctor to get cleaned up.

“Leia.” I announce, finally done giving birth for the next couple of years.

The doctor finishes cleaning her up and hands her to me, “Congratulations, Ms. (L/N). You’ve given birth to-“

“Twins…” Anakin cuts him off with a smile on his face. He looks over at me and Leia and his smile widens.

“Why Luke and Leia?” Anakin asked curiously.

“I don’t know; those names just… spoke to me.” I decided.

“Luke and Leia Skywalker…” Anakin says, “has a nice ring to it.”

[writing-radionoises]

clear waters

ship: not ship centric, background kunikidazai and shin soukoku

genre: pure fluff

prompt: the ada goes on a family outing

notes: the new chapter has caused me nothing but pain so i wrote another installment in the ada akutagawa series

Atsushi has offhandedly mentioned over lunch break that he had never been to a zoo.

Akutagawa had agreed with him, stating that he hadn’t either, and really had barely been around Yokohama.

Hearing that gave Dazai a pit in his stomach, truthfully, though he’d never say that aloud.

Akutagawa had been with the agency for a little over six months now, they had put their past behind them maybe three months ago.

Dazai had watched the other flourish from afar, watched him open up and feel happy.

Dazai had watched from afar, watching Atsushi and Akutagawa’s relationship develop, giving them little pushes now and then to the final product.

It went unsaid, but Dazai knew what they were to each other. They smiled freely with each other, exchanged small talk frequently over work, and other such things.

Akutagawa had a habit of bringing in hot chocolate for Atsushi whenever he went to get tea.

Dazai had had enough relationships to know what they were to each other.

He was just glad he managed to make it all come together…

Though other than that, the gentle pushes to a relationship, Dazai remained uninvolved with Akutagawa.

Perhaps it was just neglect, or subconsciously avoiding it.

Dazai could recall being dragged to the zoo a couple times by Elise…

“Gin always wanted to go,” Akutagawa explained, sipping at his tea as he looked back up at Atsushi, “Never had enough money, nor time… So it never happened.”

Atsushi smiled in return, “I had never left the orphanage until I was eighteen, I’ve been meaning to take Kyouka for awhile. I think she’d really like it, you know?”

“Then why don't we go?” Dazai said with a smile, from his position on Kunikida’s desk.

Kunikida glanced up at his spouse, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Do we have time for that?”

“Probably not!” Dazai replied, “But regardless, it should be a little family trip! Have a break, we can take the whole agency. I bet Fukuzawa-senpai wants to see the big cats~”

“I wanna see the penguins,” Ranpo proudly announced, “I’ll go ask him.”

“Ranpo, wait-” Kunikida said, though Ranpo had already left the room as the blond sighed and nodded.

“Give in~” Dazai said to the other, ruffling his hair gently.

Atsushi smiled once more, shaking his wrist with glee, “I’m gonna go tell Kyouka!”

He passed his cup to Akutagawa as he dashed for the other side of the agency.

Fukuzawa had, of course, agreed. Dazai knew he could rarely say no to Ranpo, led alone Kyouka, who was extremely excited for the trip.

The group took the bus into the Yokohama zoo and from there, split off into a couple of different groups.

Fukuzawa, Kyouka, and Ranpo immediately went off towards the aquatics section. Kyouka wanted to see otters, and Ranpo wanted to see penguins. Dazai is fairly certain Fukuzawa just wanted to see the other two happy.

Yosano, Tanizaki, and Kenji moved off into the reptilian section, with Kenji mostly leading the way, and Tanizaki clearly nervous.

That left Atsushi, Akutagawa, Kunikida, and Dazai together.

Dazai was fairly certain Kunikida wouldn’t let Dazai alone in a public ever, so he expected this.

Atsushi held onto Akutagawa’s hand, and led them out into the big cats section.

Dazai and Kunikida followed suit.

One way or another, Kunikida and Atsushi trailed off more towards the lions, while Akutagawa seemed mesmerized by the tiger exhibit.

Dazai stayed back, standing beside Akutagawa and watching him intently. He occasionally glanced back at the tiger exhibit, of the tiger just happily basking in the sun. A smile came to Dazai’s face.

“You like tigers?” Dazai asked, to which Akutagawa nodded.

“I thought you knew that,” he replied, looking down at the locket around his neck and fidgeting with it.

It was a golden heart locket, the chain tucked underneath the collar of his short sleeved white blouse. Dazai was pretty certain there was likely a photo of Gin inside the locket, since the two siblings separated, though he had never actually seen it. The most notable part about the necklace was more of the charm on it, next to the locket. It was a simple charm, half of the full yin and yang symbol, the dark side of it.

Dazai had seen Atsushi with the other half of the symbol, clipped onto one of his handmade bracelets that Kyouka had given him.

“Well, I assumed you did,” Dazai replied, half mindedly running a hand through his curls, “Though I thought I’d confirm.”

“Why?” Akutagawa asked, looking up at Dazai in confusion, “What does it matter?”

“Why not?” Osamu replied with a chuckle, “You’re a part of the agency now, you’re like family. Why shouldn’t I know some things about you?”

Ryuunosuke glanced away, looking back at the tiger with a face of dismay.

“... I’m not used to that.”

“Used to what?”

“People wanting to know me as a person, and not just a weapon,” Akutagawa explained, followed by a soft sigh, “There wasn’t a point to getting to know me when I was in the Port Mafia, most of the people I met there were more interested in my ability than my person. Now that I’m here, it feels like whiplash.”

“Ah, I thought the same thing,” Dazai mused, propping up his face in his hands, “I used to be so angry with everyone at the agency, I’m not sure why. Everyone was kind to me, and yet, I still thought everyone there was out to get me… I suppose there probably is a reason I could figure out if I dig deep enough in my memories, but that never goes well.”

“Mm,” Akutagawa hummed in response, nodding along, “It may be… Strange to me as well, because I had never really had a family before.”

“Oh?”

“I barely knew my parents, and I hated them,” Akutagawa said, followed by a slight laugh, “I had always wondered why they bothered creating my sister and I if they were never going to care for us… Regardless, I didn’t know them long, as you know, I grew up on the streets.”

“I remember,” Dazai remarked, “You looked like a drowned rat when Odasaku and I first found you. I just about had to apprehend you to get you to take a bath.”

A smile appeared on Akutagawa’s face as he instantly hid it behind his hand, followed by a laugh.

Dazai stops mid thought at the sight, a certain unnamed emotion making its way into his chest, as if being hit with a sudden understanding.

For the first time in the six or seven years Dazai had probably known Akutagawa, it was the first time Dazai had seen pure joy on the other’s face.

Not fear, not unease, not stress, not anger.

Pure, and unfiltered joy.

It was almost hard to comprehend, Dazai had known this kid since he was fourteen, maybe fifteen, and never seen a genuine smile.

He almost felt like a proud parent, having taken in this kid off the streets and cared for him enough to finally feel joy again.

… Is this how Odasaku felt, all those years ago?

“Dazai?” Ryuunosuke asked, looking up at the brunette with curiosity.

Dazai snapped out of his thoughts, of his own epiphany and gave Akutagawa a smile.

“Hey, let’s go find Atsushi, alright?” He said, ruffling the smaller one’s hair as Akutagawa gave a nod.

They left the tiger exhibit, and met up with Atsushi and Kunikida at the center of the room. Atsushi had ran for Akutagawa instantly, catching the other in a practically bone-crushing hug.

“Ryuu! There you are, I was just about to text you!”

“I don’t answer my texts ever, jinko.”

“Well maybe you should! I’d like to know where you are sometimes!”

“No.”

Dazai looked at the two and laughed, then looked up at Kunikida and gave him a wave.

“Did you have fun, mister honey bunny?”

Kunikida rolled his eyes, “Call me that again and I’ll divorce you.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I might,” Kunikida replied teasingly, “But yes, it was interesting. I take it that it was the same for you?”

Dazai nodded, glancing back at Akutagawa, who was now being clung to against his will.

“Yes, definitely,” Dazai replied, happily, “I learned Akutagawa likes tigers.”

“Ha,” Kunikida remarked, rolling his eyes as he glanced at Atsushi and Akutagawa, “Never would’ve expected that.”

[searchingwardrobes]

First of all, I know it seems like I have abandoned my fanfic writing, but I promise you, that isn’t true. I was actually working on I Promise to Kiss You the other night, and I am SO close to posting that final chapter! BUT, I must confess that Josiah and Kate from my book The One Who Sees Me have just been invading my muse. Tuesday night, this story just poured out of me.

I talked about this on my Facebook Live, but one part of Josiah’s personality that was really important to me was that he is safe. A man being safe is almost a bad word in rom-coms and romance novels, but it shouldn’t be. Men should absolutely be safe. Women should feel safe in their arms, safe sharing their hearts, safe enough to completely be themselves. So here is a story told from Josiah’s point of view in which he ponders how important it is to him that his wife feel safe. Oh, and some fluffy marital bliss and domesticity.

Rated: M for a married couple being open and free about sex, I guess, just to be safe, but it’s only discussed, not portrayed

Words: 1,300 and some change

Oh, and you can get a copy of The One Who Sees Me here , if you’re interested.

Tagging some who might be interested or at least humor me when it comes to my babies from Lightport : @snowbellewells​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​ @hookedonapirate​​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​ @reynoldsreads​​​​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​​​​ @optomisticgirl​​​​​​ @spartanguard​​​​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​​​​ @jrob64​​​​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​​​​ @distant-rose​ @klynn-stormz​​​​​ @carpedzem​​​​​ @cheerynoir​

Josiah Barrett was distracted. Not because he didn’t want to hear his wife tell him about her day. On the contrary, he looked forward to reconnecting over dinner. Or reconnecting as much as a one year old flinging peas on the floor allowed. He honestly didn’t understand men who complained about their wives always wanting to talk. There was no one he enjoyed having a conversation with more than Kate. It had always been that way.

No, he was distracted because his head was full of plans for Valentine’s Day. A few months ago, he and Kate had purchased a “rekindle the romance kit” recommended in a couple’s devotional they were reading together. Not that he felt in the least that the spark was gone. Kate turned him on just walking into the room at times. It was just that ever since Haley was born, they found they had to be more intentional when it came to their relationship. Hence scheduled date nights, the couple’s devotional . . .

And the romance “kit.”

The rule of the kit was simple - open an envelope and follow the instructions to create a romantic moment with your spouse. No excuses, no skipping cards, no matter how awkward it made you feel. The pink cards were for the husband to do for his wife while the red cards were for the wife to do for her husband. They usually took turns planning their dates using the cards, but for Valentine’s Day, they had both opened one. That’s what had Josiah so distracted.

He couldn’t stop mulling over his plans for the next evening. While he and Kate shared dinner at a restaurant, his brother was going to decorate their car like he had on their wedding day. Only, instead of “just married,” Micah was going to write “happily married.” On the way home, Josiah was going to take a detour to Founder’s Park, where he had proposed all those years ago and dance with Kate just like he had then to “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias - their song.

Kate was going to love it, and he was giddy with excitement.

A loud, clattering sound startled him out of his reverie. Haley squealed loudly and slapped the tray of her high chair. Josiah laughed.

“She threw her sippy cup. Again.”

He glanced at Kate as he bent to retrieve the cup. She was staring nervously at her plate, pushing peas around with her fork.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I haven’t been listening, have I?”

She gave him a wane smile. “It’s not that. I know teething isn’t exactly a riveting topic.”

Haley took the cup from his hand and started sucking down the water inside. Good - maybe they had a minute or two reprieve from the cup throwing game.

“What is it then?”

Kate bit her lip and blinked as if holding back tears. After a long pause, she blurted out, “I can’t do it!”

He frowned with concern. “Do what?”

She dropped her fork with a clatter and pressed both hands to her face. “The card,” she mumbled behind her fingers, “for Valentine’s Day.”

He said nothing, trying to process her words. Haley fussed, and on auto-pilot, he sprinkled some snack puffs onto the high chair tray to distract her.

Kate ran her hands through her hair as she looked up at him. “I know it says not to skip cards, but I can’t, Josiah. I just can’t.”

Now he was alarmed. He was always careful to be a patient and tender lover with Kate, knowing she had been victimized in her young, innocent years. The cards for wives were always sexual in nature, but it was a Christian product, so nothing had been inappropriate. So far, anyway. Kate had been emboldened by the cards to get past her shyness: dancing for him, initiating sex, making love in unique places around the house, but none of it ever seemed to upset her. She would blush and giggle, and he would assure her that he found her incredibly sexy, but he had never seen her afraid.

Was she afraid? That was one thing he never, ever wanted her to feel with him.

He realized he had been quiet for too long when she started speaking again in a hurried, nervous tone. “It just grosses me out. I mean, the thought of doing it makes me physically repulsed. Can I please pick another card? Or just do my own thing?”

Good Lord above, what was on this card?

“What does it want you to do?” he whispered, then he inwardly berated himself.

It shouldn’t matter, you idiot! She clearly doesn’t feel comfortable doing it!

“It wants me to let you . . . “ she hesitated for a beat, then blurted out, “eat fruit off my

body!”

At first, he was rendered speechless. That had not been what he had expected. Well, he wasn’t really sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t fruit.

“It’s just so . . . sticky,” she added, wrinkling her nose in an adorable way.

Then he couldn’t help it - he burst out laughing. Haley startled, dropped her cup again, then joined her Daddy with gleeful belly laughs despite having no clue what was so funny. At first Kate gaped at him, which only made him laugh more. Soon, she was chuckling too. They laughed and laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks and they could scarcely breathe.

“Fruit?” he finally gasped. “You had me so worried, and then it’s all about fruit?”

“Don’t laugh,” she giggled. She rolled her eyes at him and tossed a wadded up napkin at his head. “You know how I feel about food fights.”

He did. Every time they saw one on TV or in a movie, it grossed her out. The thought of ketchup in her hair or mashed potatoes down her shirt made her shiver with revulsion. “You know somebody has to clean that up,” she would always say.

“Come here,” he told her, opening up his arms. She blushed sheepishly as she rose from her chair and rounded the kitchen table. She curled up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Kate,” he told her, brushing her hair off her forehead and tucking it behind her ear, “all I need is you to be perfectly satisfied. If anything - anything at all - makes you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. I never want you to feel that way when we’re intimate, even if it’s just something like sticky fruit.”

She smiled down at him, cupping his jaw with one hand, a picture of perfect contentment. Just as he longed for her to feel with him.

“I love you,” she lowered her lips to his and kissed him thoroughly, running her fingers through his hair.

“I love you too,” he replied huskily when she finally pulled away.

“My alternate plan is to feed you chocolate covered strawberries.”

“I like that plan.”

She kissed him again, but then they were interrupted by Haley’s squeals. The sight of their daughter had them both laughing again.

“Sweetheart,” Josiah told his wife, “I don’t think our daughter shares your opinion on food fights.”

Their one year old had mashed up her peas and then rubbed it into her hair. With a half chuckle, half groan, Kate got off Josiah’s lap and went to unbuckle their daughter from her high chair.

“Which would you rather clean?” he asked his wife. “The chair or the baby?”

“The baby, definitely.”

He watched his wife, her strawberry blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head, no makeup, clad in yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt. She balanced their daughter on her hip as she wiped tiny hands and cheeks with a baby wipe. Her smile was bright and her eyes sparkled as she spoke lovingly to their child. Despite the messy peas still in the tiny girl’s fine hair, Kate pressed a sloppy kiss to the baby’s freshly wiped, chubby cheek, making Haley giggle. Josiah’s heart swelled with love for this woman: his best friend, his wife, the mother of his child. He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“What was that for?” she asked him.

“Like I said, I just need you.”

[discotreque]

Disco 3.08: The Sanctuary

This week IRL was a real mixed bag for me: a lot of messy and barely-manageable anxiety about my health, my day job, and uhhhh *gestures outside*—but also I’ve recently fallen in love (from a responsible social distance)—so it’s been equal parts re-writing professional emails to edit the panic attack out of my tone and gazing dreamily at Discord notifications with cartoon hearts in my eyes. It feels like my life is going to hell in the cutest, coziest handbasket—which is to say that Michael Burnham could not possibly feel like a more relatable character to me right now.

I continue to have issues with the writing at a strange medium-level—somewhere between micro, where the dialogue and characters are really good, and macro, where I’m digging the pace of the overall season, it almost feels like something went wrong in the assembly process, and the script ended up a little bit less than the sum of its perfectly good parts. Again.

But that’s such vague criticism as to be nearly meaningless, and it’s hardly the most interesting level to spend time on anyway. If I zoom out, the parallel season arcs of “getting used to the future” and “the mystery of the Burn” are hanging together wayyyyy better than the Red Angel saga did last year.

And if I zoom in? This episode was funny as shit, wtf.

The discourse re: Tilly these past couple of weeks has been bullshit, and I have a whole angry thing to say about it—but honestly, if you can’t appreciate Doug Jones and Mary Wiseman as a comedic duo, I’m not really mad: mostly I pity the lack of joy in your heart.

Everyone on this show is so funny. Doug’s prissy little delivery absolutely slaughters me (“Execute!...?”), Mary will make a face sometimes that has me screaming laughter into my hands, and I’ve gone on before—and will again—about Sonequa Martin-Green’s egregiously underrated comedy chops.

They were obviously casting for folks w/ jokes in the new season too: David Ajada is no slouch in the dry-delivery or the goofy-face department; his energy and chemistry with Sonequa are as suited to comedy as they are to romance (i.e. extremely 🥵). Anthony Rapp and Wilson Cruz we knew about, but Blu del Barrio—a certified tiny baby!!!—holds their own and lands every smartass whiz-kid one-liner just on the right side of “too precious to stand.” (I almost always at least chuckle, and never roll my eyes, and for a “teen genius” character that’s literally as good as it gets.) And living legend Michelle Yeoh is clearly having the time of her life, omfg.

Disco’s not funny-funny like Lower Decks, but they do funny-on-purpose better than any live-action Trek except maybe DS9. They have such a deep comedic bench they don’t even need Tig Notaro—they have her on just to flex, I presume.

(I don’t know if I’m predicting, per se, that Strange New Worlds—with Rebecca Romjin’s deadpan, Anson Mount’s twinkly eyes, and Ethan Peck’s twinkly-eyed deadpan—is going to have a tone somewhere between Disco S3 and LwD—but I mean... it kinda has to, right? And you know they kept the number for Rainn Wilson’s agent.)

***

At the start of this episode, I was “sure, why the fuck not” about First Officer Tilly; by the end, I was completely on board. And to everyone who’s still wringing their hands about “the real military” this (always from people who have no idea how actual militaries work, lol) and “Lt. Nilsson” that (she... already has a job on the ship? And no character traits besides “stoic” and “furrows brow”? Oh, I get it—she’s skinny and blonde)—y’all are kind of embarrassing me.

“Rank” and “position” (and “seniority” and “day-to-day duties”...) aren’t the same thing, in Star Trek or any IRL military. Yes, the permanent first officers of normal-duty Starfleet ships we’ve seen have usually been command-division officers with the rank of Commander—but not always. Star Trek: Discovery-A, if you will, is a unique show about a unique ship in a unique situation: “B-b-but that’s not how they do it on Star Trek!!!” isn’t a legitimate criticism, not of this—it’s the mournful cry of an entitled pissbaby who isn’t having their hand held all the way to the fireworks factory.

Here’s what an argument supported by the text of the first 37 episodes of Star Trek: Discovery actually looks like: Sylvia Tilly is nervous and lacks self-confidence, but once she gets over herself—which she can do pretty much instantly in a crisis, even when hilariously intoxicated—she is competent as hell. In lower-stakes situations, without intense pressure to focus her attention, she sometimes gets sidetracked by her own insecurities; at her best, she channels that anxious energy into ambition, drive, and being scrupulously organized.

The only person Tilly doesn’t always get along with is Stamets, and even Stamets’s husband thinks he’s an asshole. Since Season 1, we’ve seen her easily socializing with the rest of the crew, who seem to universally adore her. And she’s also happy to leave her social comfort zone at a moment’s notice: she aligned herself with Ash Tyler (miss you, Shazad!) when no one else would, and she instantly befriended Po even when Po was in Weird Feral Alien Princess mode and Tilly had salad in her hair. She doesn’t like confrontation, but she’s brave enough to initiate it anyway if she needs to, and she’s compassionate with other people’s feelings while still setting firm boundaries. (Her graceful dodge of Rhys’s tipsy kiss at the party in 1.07 lives rent-free in my head to this day.)

No, Tilly didn’t finish the Command Training Program—but she started it, which is almost certainly more command training than any of the lieutenants whose names we know, all of whom are Ops or Science personnel with, presumably, specialized non-command training of their own. The same could be assumed for any unseen ranking officers on this science ship with an entirely volunteer skeleton crew.

And seriously, about Nilsson: she’s my #3 background bae after Octopus Head and the lady on Pike’s Enterprise with the spiky red face, but her job is Spore Drive Ops, not personnel. If she’s running after Saru with a holo-clipboard, who’s going to look serious and push holo-buttons when there’s a Black Alert? *drops holo-mic* Drumhead!

***

The stuff on Kwejian, though. Ooof. Ol’ Two-Takes Frakes directed this one, and between the kinetic energy he always adds to the camera and the scintillating performances he evokes, things stayed moving so briskly I almost didn’t notice Book’s entire “homeworld” was a rental house outside Vancouver, a couple acres of adjacent woods, and like six or seven people.

It’s a hot mess in retrospect, but in the moment it gave us the intensity of Book and Kyheem trying to hurt each other’s feelings by poking at 15-year-old wounds, which as a sibling with complicated sibling relationships I found both funny and devastating—not to mention Frakes directing “shaky bridge” explosion falls at an obvious intensity of “10” on an outdoor location shoot. It falls apart at the slightest scrutiny, but I can’t lie, on first viewing I was totally along for the ride.

***

I’m dying to see where this Georgiou thing goes. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to assume she got Cronenberg’d a couple weeks ago, probably to get her under the thumb of this century’s Section 31, and that her arc is going to take Michelle Yeoh off this show in a way that sets up the S31 show. But also, I don’t care so much whether I’m right, I just want to watch Michelle Yeoh—and Sonequa Martin-Green, and also David Cronenberg tbh, and bring back Shazad Latif while you’re at it—get wherever they’re going.

It’s also a fun and interesting direction to take the comically-evil comic relief character and show that her performative moustache-twirling is partly habit and partly a transparent emotional defence against very real fear and vulnerability. We’re all products of our circumstances, and a radical enough change in circumstances can afford almost anyone at least the opportunity to change. I can’t say Emperor Georgiou would have been my first choice of protagonist for that storyline, but it’s not like Michelle Yeoh’s not going to fuckin’ crush it.

***

Miscellany:

So the Burn had an origin point, and now that point is broadcasting a signal that’s somehow both a haunting melody that everyone seems to know—but no one can remember learning—and a Federation distress signal. What the fuck, y’all. I have full-body goosebumps just typing that.

Saru workshopping his own captainly catchphrase with the aid of Tilly’s extreme sincerity and organizational skills is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened on this show—followed closely by the uncomfortably lingering reaction shots when he’s trying them out on the bridge 😂 (And omg please give Rhys and Bryce the dumbass buddy-comedy C-plots they deserve next season, I beg you.)

I would do a little “prop watch” entry on those Kwejianian(?) bolt-throwing rifles, but I’d have to stop drooling over them first. “Curvy polished hardwood” seems to be New Trek shorthand for “extra sleek and futuristic” (cf. the bridge of the USS Titan in the LwD finale), and I have to say: I am fully into it.

Restating my prediction that we will not see Detmer and Owosekun get together this season, because we will find out that they’ve been together for ages. Everyone knew—Pike even knew!—it just never came up in front of the audience before. That would be one of the cutest ways to do it imho, and one of the funniest too, especially as a meta-joke about how much character development didn’t happen in the first two seasons. (That said, if we get to see their first kiss, I will be screaming with incoherent joy for days, so this is a real win-win for me.)

Speaking of cute: IRL spouses Mary Wiseman and Noah Averbach-Katz, both Julliard-trained actors (it’s where they met!), can’t quite hide their chemistry in the scenes between Tilly and Ryn. I loved seeing Tilly be a hardass when Ryn was rude to the captain, but that sparkle in her eyes didn’t quite match the context <3

And speaking of people who are VERY OBVIOUSLY IN LOVE: that last scene with Book and Michael, and his nervous little “yeah, I said it” eyebrow lift, and her irrepressible giggle as she’s walking away... it was almost too much. Especially right after the queer-family scenes with Stamets and Culber and Adira. My poor heart is going through a lot lately, and I guess I’m just glad Season 3’s emotional intensity is melting it with soft sweet scenes like that instead of kicking it down repeated flights of stairs like Season 1.

***

Next week: everyone stops caring about the Burn and starts trying to solve an even more important mystery—why is this (holographic) dude wearing an early-2360s uniform with an early-2370s combadge?

[formeandmyfics]

At the H.R.

JUGENEA FAN FICTION

Set during Easter Parade, now that Gene’s ankle is all healed, Judy & Gene are able to be together again. Rated MA - for spicy but a sweet finish

January 1948

Gene had been at Ciro's for a few minutes, sitting at a booth nestled in the corner, nursing a Brandy Manhattan on the rocks. Friends and peers of his were all chatting to themselves around him.

The 'Metro' gang usually took up the two large booths on the east side of the nightclub every Friday night, as if it was reserved, and tonight had been no different. It felt good to Gene to be out like this again.

"That pianist sounds amazing," Angela Lansbury commented as a darker-skinned gentleman played some jazz tunes over the piano accompanied by a jazz drummer. During each band's breaks, there was always a pianist playing to keep the atmosphere lively.

Lena Horne leaned over a bit towards him, to speak to Angie, who was sitting on this other side of Gene, "His name is Bud Powell. Lennie knows him. He's working on an album right now."

"Oh, good for him. He's very talented."

Gene smiled and took a sip of his drink. He was honored to be sitting between two beautiful ladies, even if they were unknowingly ignoring him. He checked his watch and kneaded his eyebrows. Judy was unpunctual, but not when it came to Ciro's. She was always here, every Friday night, on the clock.

A sudden burst of laughter from the adjoining booth next to him, where Van Johnson, June Allyson and Jimmy Stewart, to name a few, got Gene's attention. He leaned back to see if she was there. Whenever there was a roar of laughter, usually Judy was the culprit of it. But, she was no where to be seen.

Gene turned back around, and when he glanced up, he did a double take. On the dance floor, just up ahead from their booth, where couples currently stood talking, instead of dancing, there she was. Judy was in deep conversation with Ann Miller, her current co-star, and looking radiant. Her off the shoulder black cocktail dress was simple, but she made it anything but.

"Hello, earth to Gene," Lena said waving a hand past his face making him flinch.

"Huh?"

"I asked when you were going back to the studio."

"Oh, ah," he said diverting his eyes from Judy to look at Lena, "We start shooting in a few weeks."

"The Three Musketeers," she asked curious

Gene couldn't help stare back Judy's direction, "Yeah."

"Seems everyone's in it but me," she joked as a lot of their friends there tonight, including June, Angela & Van Heflin, were going to be in the film with him.

When Gene didn't answer, as his gaze seemed to be fixated in front of him, Lena looked to see what had his profound attention. When she saw Judy up ahead laughing hysterically with Ann, her lips curved into a smile.

"I'm not the only one not in your next film, hm," she said leaning into him teasingly.

"What," he asked looking at her. When she nodded towards Judy, he shrugged, "Oh, yeah, Judy's not in it. But she's still in the middle of filming 'Easter Parade'."

The mention of the movie made Gene want to wince. Everyone that knew him, knew how disappointed he had been in breaking his ankle. He had been so excited to do that film, as the music and script were divine, but ever since staring their affair up again during 'The Pirate', he wanted to continue it while working with her on this project. She wanted it even more that she went so far in having Vincente replaced as director. Part of it was because him as director didn't quite work out so good for him as husband at home as well. But, also, because she didn't want any interference with their own relationship. He had a great time rehearsing until the accident. That was 2 1/2 months ago. He was, however, happy that he had helped talk Fred into taking his place, as he wanted only the best with her, and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing the movie.

But he was more looking forward to seeing Judy tonight. Oh, they had seen each other around a few times during those months, doing post-production VR work at the studio for 'Pirate', as well at a couple house parties, where their spouses were present, but not alone. They hadn't been alone since the night before that god damn tennis game.

"She's looking very pretty tonight," Lena said.

"Yes, she is," he said casually taking another sip, his eyes glancing back up at her.

"I wonder why she's by herself tonight," Lena asked but then went on in an exaggerated tone, "Oh, that's right," she snapped her fingers, "I heard he was in New York on business."

Gene's gaze finally left Judy's to look at the woman next to him with a quizzical eye, "You don't say."

"What a shame that she's here alone. Personally, I don't think any woman should roam about at a nightclub without a date."

Gene chuckled, "Believe me, Judy is not alone. She knows practically everyone in this joint, and she knows how to work a room. She can easily get a ride home, if she needs one."

"What about you?"

"What about me," he asked trying to act blaze but her intrigued tone started to make him nervous.

"Would you give her a ride home?"

"I'd always give her a ride home, of course. She's a friend," he said taking another sip, the ice now clunking together in his nearly empty glass.

Lena leaned her chin on her hands and lowered her voice, now teasing, "How good of a friend?"

Gene put his glass back on the table, no smile apparent, but then he forced a chuckle thinking Lena was joking around, but deep inside, he had a feeling she wasn't. He knew her acting abilities was better than she was putting on.

"Good enough to know how she likes her eggs in the morning," she asked, in a whisper, so no one else could hear. And her tone signaled to Gene that she knew.

"She doesn't like eggs in the morning, she likes fruit and waffles," he said smiling bashfully.

Lena laughed and pushed his arm, "You devil."

They both looked the other direction as Angela and, fiance Peter Shaw, slid out of the booth. Now alone, they were able to talk a little more openly, but still with lowered voices.

"I find it very hard to believe that Judy told you about us."

"She didn't. Over Christmas break, when we were at Sardi's, I overheard her and Kay Thompson in the bathroom when they didn't know anyone was in there."

"Oh, God," he said, "Does she know that you overheard?"

"Oh, yeah. She was very embarrassed and swore me to secrecy," off Gene's look, her eyes widened, "I haven't said a thing, not even to my husband. I swear, Gene, your guys' secret is safe with me. I don't care what two people do, that's your own business. I ain't butting in, but..."

Gene laughed and shook his head, "Yeah?"

"From what I heard, I have to say, maybe you should be the one giving Judy that ride home," she smiled cheekily with her eyebrows raised.

"Dare I ask," he said not feeling bashful at all, but more amused.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I'm too much of a lady to say," she winked, "Now, wish me luck. I've got to stop over at the Penitentiary Fox table over there, say hi to some people."

"20th Century Fox," Gene corrected.

"You say Potato," she mumbled and scooted out.

Judy gently swatted Ann's back as Annie walked away laughing, when Lena slid by her, placing a hand on her lower back.

"Just so you're aware, dear, there's a certain handsome, dark-haired, dancer over in the Metro booth that hasn't taken his eyes off you."  

Judy watched as Lena kept on walking, heading the other direction. Judy looked down, fiddling with her nail, and was smiling a bit. She already knew who the man was. And just the thought made her insides quiver with excitement. She knew he would be there. Frank had mentioned it to her when he declined her invitation to go out, just like he had with Gene before her, because of a cold he was battling. Frank was a gentleman, and he treated her like a lady, but at the same time spoke to her like one of the guys. She was quite bold herself with him. He was one of the people who knew of her on-again-off-again affair with Gene, so he had no hesitation in telling her that the man couldn’t wait to get her alone again.

Slowly turning her head his way, with a bit of a shy smile, their eyes met.

Gene sat there in the booth, alone, staring at her with a very sexy expression as he lit a cigarette. For a moment, Judy felt like the world around them was non-existent as they held a gaze, his smoke slowly exhaling from his lips, as music echoed in her ears as if it were under water. When he took the cigarette away from his mouth, he licked his lips, and his gaze turned more intense. Judy placed her hand on her stomach feeling those delightful butterflies that he never failed in giving her, even after all these years.

"Judy...Judy..."

Judy faintly heard her name, and she saw Gene's eyes look to the right of her, before meeting her eyes again but she couldn't process it. Gene smiled, tapping his cigarette on the tray, before motioning to her to look beside her. She gave him a questionable look before she heard her name again.

"Judy," Jane Powell giggled.

"Huh," Judy asked now looking over at the blonde. Others were looking at her, smiling, as well.

“The band’s up there, honey, they’re asking you to sing.”

Judy saw that the bang had come back on stage and the conductor was motioning for her to come up.

“Sing us a song, Judy, come on,” he said cheerfully.

She giggled and nodded before heading through the crowd her cheered her on as she made her way to the stage.

“How about a slow one, is that alright,” she asked the audience through the microphone before turning to the conductor who showed her a set list and they agreed on ‘If I Had You’.

Gene watched her in a comfortable way. He was used to what her presence could do, he was familiar to the energy she gave off, so it was no surprise to Gene when no one slow danced as they did with other singers. When Judy Garland sang on stage, all eyes were upon her. She just had this captivating thing about her.

And as much as he never tired of her singing, as much as he heard her a million times before, even being lucky enough to sing with her, the sound of here right now made his dick hard. It wasn’t particularly her singing that turned him on, but that voice of hers, the one he knew very well

It was the voice that laughed with him over funny anecdotes, the voice that talked to him about the meaning of dreams and life and the universe, the voice that came out of her in a series of sounds as they made love. That woman up there was his best friend that he knew, not only intimately, but as a person. And he missed her so fucking much.

Their time back together on ‘Pirate was intense and hot. They were basically fueled by frustration, not only at work but in their personal lives as well. When they had started pre-production on Easter Parade, they were both more relaxed and their private time together was unhurried, still passionate, but softer. Then that was taken away because of a reckless moment during a sport. Though he enjoyed every encounter with her, every day that went by, especially now that his ankle was healed and he was free to come and go as he pleased, he found himself wanting to make her feel so good she forget her own name.

As Judy sang, her eyes slyly kept drifting his way. He knew he had her undivided attention, which always flattered him, and made his ego a little bigger. Ever since he met her, she seemed to only see him even in a room full of other men, some with whom desired her. He knew her attention was much more than just attraction, because it was that way for him as well, which he assumed is why their temporary separation had been almost excruciating this time around. When she finished the song, everyone clapped and cheered for another, but she politely declined. A few people had stopped her once she got off stage, and at first he felt a little impatient, but then Van slipped into the booth next to him and started chatting about their upcoming film. While talking to Van, he heard her voice behind him, followed by slight bump against his arm as she sat next to him. When his conversation finished, he turned to look at her, but she was conversing with her co-star Peter Lawford now, who was standing up with a drink in hand. Peter acknowledged him with a nod, and Gene nodded back, to which Judy turned and gave him a smile, placing a hand on his leg, before turning back to Lawford. It looked like a friendly gesture on her part, but it made his skin tingle. As the two seemingly gossiped, he took advantage of letting his eyes scan over her as she was sitting close. He could smell her familiar perfume as he stared at her flawless, porcelain skin that he was overly familiar with. The black velvet, sweetheart-style bodice of her dress was enticing. Judging by the curve of her breasts slightly pushed above it told him she was wearing one of her teddy’s underneath, which she frequently wore when wearing dresses like this. And he had frequently loved seeing them. She was no ‘pin-up girl’ as she once told him, but boy, she knew how to make lingerie look good. “…Alright,” Peter chuckled, “I’ll see ya later, Judes.” “Bye, darling.” Judy maneuvered her body and turned towards Gene. They both just smiled, a warm smile, and though there was relief in their expression, sparkles were also in their eyes. “Hi.” “Hi.” Judy had this overwhelming feeling to just jump into his arms, but she had to remind herself where she was. “How’s your ankle?” “Well, I can’t be going around doing jumping jacks hours on end, but I no longer need crutches or bandages.” “That’s good,” she said and purposefully grabbed the carton of cigarettes, nervously clearing her throat before going on, “You start your next film in a few weeks, right?” As Gene reached for his lighter, he noticed she seemed anxious. “Yeah,” he replied as he lit it for her. She exhaled, “And, ah, they’re letting you do all that physical acting already, even though you have to be careful?” “Well, the scenes with my fencing numbers they’re going to shoot at the end of filming when I’m pretty much all healed,” his eyebrows furrowed as she nodded and fiddled with the cigarette between her fingers. “Why are you making small talk?” Judy didn’t meet his gaze, but she flirtatiously smiled, “Because I’m trying to refrain from what I really want to say to you.” Gene smiled wide, his slight crows feet making her weak, “Well, I’d really like to hear it.” She giggled, “I bet you would.” He chuckled with her, and under the table, he turned his palm up which she immediately linked her fingers in his. “So, I heard that Vincente is out of town.” “Yes,” she responded with that familiar lisp. “That’s good,” he said,o

“Oh, it is,” she said fishing for attention.

He leaned into her ear, his voice deepening, “Yes, because I can’t think of anything else but being inside of you again.” “I had a feeling you’d say that…” she said not shocked at all by his confession, as their eyes linked, “…which is why I asked Kay to watch Liza tonight.” “How’d you know I’d be here,” he asked intrigued. “A little birdie told me. I called ahead for a reservation at the H.R.” Her hand slid out of his and she fiddled with her small purse in her lap. He pretended not to take notice, as he took a sip of water, but soon felt something metal slide into his hand. Looking down, he grasped the hotel key. Judy watched him quite provocatively as he tried to hide a smile as he placed it inside his breast pocket. She swore he was blushing. “That’s pretty risky,” he said, then teased her, “What if I didn’t have an excuse to get away?” “I knew you’d make one,” she said innocently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Before he could respond, two middle-aged ladies, definitely out-of-towners, came up to their table asking them each for autographs which they happily agreed to. Luckily, the tourists didn’t stay around and strike up a conversation. As they walked away, Judy looked at him quite seriously, “Gene?” “Hm?” “I don’t want to just go there. I want to sleep in your arms tonight.” “I know,” he said back, “I'll have Frank call Betsy and tell her I passed out at his place. She won't miss me. Did you bring your own car here?”

“Yah.”

“Then I'll meet you over there."

Judy gave him a coy smile before she bounced her way out of the booth.

“Oh, honey,” he said as she passed him about to head out.

“Hm,” she asked turning on her heels.

“I gotta ask you something,” he said motioning for her which she walked over.

He took her elbow so she’d lean down a bit, “Lena said she overheard you tell Kay something naughty about me.” Off Judy’s look he went on, “In the ladies room. What did you say?”

Judy looked around to make sure no one was looking and she put her hand up as she whispered in his ear. He listened a moment, and quickly his eyes widened before his smile did.

He looked at her, his mouth slightly a jar, and she raised her arched her eyebrow, “Room 215, dear.”

He watched her walk out of his sight before letting out an impish chuckle.

Judy drove east on Sunset Blvd, heading towards Hollywood Boulevard. It was less than a 10 minute drive, but during that short duration, she enjoyed the views as the streets were quite lively that evening. When she saw the large ‘Hotel Roosevelt’ sign up ahead, lit up in red over the tower, another rush of butterflies filled her tummy. She hadn’t been acting a seduction with Gene. She truly wanted him. Not only did she miss the meaningful conversations with him, as they could be honest about nearly anything and everything without judgement, but she missed the comfort he encompassed as well. But, most of all, she missed the sex and a truly great orgasm, which was what she had told Gene. Sex with him went beyond just physical for her, and for him, she knew. They connected emotionally, mentally, and felt comfortable in their skin. She longed for that again, as it had been at its peak before Gene’s accident.

As Judy pulled into the side entrance of the hotel, where the valet was stationed, she waited behind another car. One thing she loved about this hotel was not only the history and elegance, but the discreet atmosphere. This hotel was more busy than The Chateau Marmont, which was the most private, and discreet hotels of them all in Hollywood, but she had heard that Mr. Mayer was having a party there tonight. She was not about to step into that hot water.

When Judy saw the lady that got out of the Cadillac in front of her, she cursed and slid down in her seat a bit. The designer hat was a tell: Hedda Hopper.

Still hunched down, Judy watched the gossip queen walk into the side entrance, when the door opened startling her.

“Ma’am,” the young valet said. When he saw Judy’s deer-in-the-headlights look, he gave her a confused look.

Judy immediately sat up, and smiled, “Good evening, thank you.” After taking her valet ticket, she head to the back entrance and let out a breath, hoping to God, Hedda wasn’t standing right there.

When she walked into the back lobby, Hedda was occupied at the check in desk. Luckily, Judy already had the two room keys. Nonchalantly, she walked past the woman, but as she did, she noticed Gene up ahead making a call. She wasn’t surprised to see him already there, as she had gotten interrupted by friends in the lobby of Ciro’s as she was leaving. He must’ve left just before her.

Gene was pressing Sinatra’s house number when he saw Judy walking towards him. But she wasn’t smiling. She was looking at him eyes wide, with a warning expression, and her pace was swift. When he silently asked her what was wrong, she nodded as if to look behind her, before she kept on walking past him towards the elevator.

He looked the direction she nodded and saw Hedda facing his way, but conversing with a bellhop.

“Fuck,” he whispered and turned around so his back was to her.

Gene closed his eyes. Jesus Christ, that was the last thing they needed.

“Hello?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s Gene.”

“Hows it going?”

“How you feeling?”

“Hopped up on every cold remedy out there, boy, including a hot toddy. What are you doing calling me? I thought you were going to the watering hole?”

“I was, but I’m at the Roosevelt now.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because Hedda fucking Hopper is behind me, and I don’t want her to see me. Listen, do me a favor.”

“Depends.”

“Not depends. You backed into my car at Gleason’s on New Years, man. I still have the dent. You owe me.”

“Yeah, ok, what’s up?”

“Call my wife, tell her I passed out at your place.”

“Why?”

“What does it matter? I’m not coming home tonight and I need a good excuse.”

He heard Frank break out in a naughty chuckle, “Ooo, oo, oo, you gone get some, huh? It’s our girl ain’t it? Ain’t it?”

Frank’s playful voice made Gene smile, “Just do it, would ya?”

“Yeah, I got your back. Tell Judy I said hi.”

Gene heard Hedda’s heels on the marble floors coming closer and his voice got quieter, “I gotta go.”

After hanging up, he kept his back to the woman, pretending to look through the phone book, nearly holding his breath as the footsteps passed him.

“Gene,” he heard her unmistakable voice and he closed his eyes sighing, “Is that you?”

Turning, he presented her with a movie star smile, “Hedda, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” she squealed and accepting him into a hug, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just came for a few drinks at the lounge. Ciro’s got too busy for my taste,” he fibbed.

“Oh, mine, too. Also, it seems they’re letting anybody in nowadays. Why don’t you come have one more drink with me? We’ll catch up?”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I was just heading out. But let’s do lunch soon, yeah?”

“Oh, heaven’s, I’d love that. I’m going to keep you to your word.”

“You do that.”

“It’s good to see you out and about without crutches, darling. You have a good night.”

“You, too, love. You’re looking very pretty.”

Hedda giggled like a school girl before she turned and kept walking. The minute she was turned, Gene practically ran towards the stairs next to the elevator.

Gene unlocked the hotel room door and, when he stepped in, he immediately noticed her heels were laying in the middle of the floor, a sign to him that she made it to the room.

“I’m here,” he called out kicking off his own shoes next to her stilettos.

“I’ll be right out, darling,” she said from the bathroom.

He stood next to the closed bathroom door, “Hedda fucking saw me, baby, she tried chatting. I blew her off real quick.”

He heard her giggle from inside, which made him smile as he walked over to the closet door. He was hanging up his suit jacket when he heard the door open behind him.

“Can you believe Hedda showed up,” he heard her say incredibly, “Out of all people, the gossip Queen.”

“Well,” he said slipping his tie off, “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been one of our spouses.”

He turned around to face her, about to close the closet door, when he saw her. She was minding her own business as she took off her earrings, standing there in a black, strapless, lace teddy which had garters attached holding up her thigh high stockings.

Judy made a disgusted face at the thought of what Gene just said, “Oh, geez, please don’t say things like that. Don’t even think it.”

“Oh, honey,” he mumbled impressed, and turned on at her attire, as he swung the closet door shut behind him.

As Judy tossed her earrings on the bedside table, she looked at him and immediately noticed him eyeing her body with a look that would scare a virgin.

“What,” she giggled.

Gene looked at her in disbelief by her question, “You,” he chuckled. Judy walked up to him and placed her hands arms around his neck, “You’ve always seen me in lingerie.”

“I know, but,” he said looked down at her full, but petite, breasts against his chest, “Over two months, honey.”

“Well, I probably would have surprised you naked, but I actually need help getting out of this,” she gestured to the back of it.

“What, your handmaiden off duty,” he teased.

“Tonight she is,” she teased back, undoing a few of the buttons on his shirt, as she spoke with a very seductive voice.

He stayed still as she undid each one. When she finished, she slid the white dress shirt off his arms and then immediately ran her hands under his undershirt. Gene’s chest rose as he took a slow, but deep, breath in as her flat hands ran up his toned stomach to his chest. Gene closed his eyes as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on his neck, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin as she did so.

Leaning back, Judy lifted the undershirt and he lift his arms so she could toss it off him. When she leaned in to kiss his chest, he immediately grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to look up at him, in a good, and oh, so sexual, way. The sudden move made her gasp in an excited delight as she was staring straight into his eyes. Their eyes clouded over. He wanted to fuck her and she wanted to be fucked. Gene leaned in to kiss her, but he stopped short of her lips, eyeing her face up and down as her eyes closed and her lips parted. When her eyes opened, not feeling his kiss, a kiss she longed for, she saw his eyes twinkling with tease. She wasn’t in the mood for games.

Judy leaned forward to kiss him, but his hand slid up the back of her head, taking her silky hair in his fist, and he held her back, gently, but in control. Gene leaned in to kiss her again, and her mouth opened, but he then diverted, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck, sucking a bit with each one. She leaned her head back a bit and sighed, feeling his heavenly touch. She barely felt his other hand fumbling with the back of her teddy, where the lace criss-crossed up a series of hooks.

Gene leaned back from her and swiftly turned her around, her hands falling flat against the full-length mirror on the closet door to balance herself. It was another move that surprised her, but she loved knowing he was frustrated.

“What the hell, Judy,” he said.

“The back is built like a corset.”

“Why doesn’t this have a zipper like the others,” he said, his expression showing as if he were looking at a map of greater Pittsburg.

Judy let out a breathy laugh and looked at his reflection through the mirror, “You have to slide the ties from the hooks.” He started one, and it caught, she she spoke up, with a tone as if she were talking to an impatient child, “Gently.”

Gene looked up her with a stubborn expression and yanked, none-so-gently, her body slightly yanking with it. He did it again, and then another, until she felt the garment getting looser.

“Or that,” she said, “But ruin my new lingerie in the process,” she mumbled but let him continue.

Gene ignored her as he looked down at her bottom, slightly arched back, as she held herself against the mirror. She was only inches away from his growing erection.

Judy was looking down, not noticing that he took a step forward, until she felt him against her bottom, and then there was another yank. She smiled biting her bottom lip as she felt the excited tingles in her tummy now evolve as an exquisite ache between her legs.

When he was done with the last one, she turned around and he took another step, his body now over-towering hers, her back pressing against the mirror.

“Never wear that again, please.”

“You seemed to enjoy the view,” she said as her finger nails tickled his sides.

Gene’s expression was softer as he moved some hair away from her face before he finally leaned down to kiss her. Judy wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him tighter as his lips tugged and pulled at hers, as his tongue slid erotically over her own. She reciprocated back just the same until they were both breathless.

He pulled back and rest his forehead against hers a moment, relishing in the moment of being with her again. But when he heard her whisper, “I’ve missed you,” he wanted to give her what she came here for..so badly.

Reaching down, his hands grasped her thighs right under her tush, and lifted her up. They both let out a small grunt as her body landed against his, her thighs high around his waist. She giggled as she looked down at him as he walked them across the room, towards the bed, smiling back at her.

Suddenly, Gene dropped her onto the mattress, like a doll landing on her back, and she let out a shriek. But before she could process anything, he grabbed her under her knees and yanked her towards him, his hips between her legs now. He leaned over her, holding himself up off her body as his hands sunk into the mattress next to her head and he gave her another delicious kiss. As he did, Judy reached down and unclasped her garters from her stockings, anticipating his next move was to rid her of the material she was wearing. And last thing she wanted to do was frustrate him more with ladies’ complicated undergarments.

Just as she expected, he stood back up so he could undress her. He lowered the teddy from her chest, pulling down until her legs accommodating it to slide completely off of her. It was inside out by the time he tossed it behind him. Gene gazed upon her as his hands ran over her black thigh highs, “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled, always feeling beautiful when they were together, and she reached her hands up, over his, to help him slide the nylon down.

Gene slid her hands away, “Leave them on.”

She smiled, rolling her eyes teasing, “Leg man.”

“Shh,” he said with a certain kind of seriousness he possessed whenever he was concentrated on something.

The bed made a slight sound as his body shifted, towering over her again, her hand was grasping his hair as his mouth  reminded her that he was not only a leg man, but tits, too. As he gave equal treatment to the other, she whimpered, and he could feel her try to press her thighs together, but his one knee was kneeling between her, making it impossible to do so. His other hand traveled between them, to help her relieve some of the pressure. He wasn’t surprised that she was soaked already, she normally was whenever he was about to make love to her. But the thought of how much he could arouse her, never failed to make his dick as hard as an 18-year-old.  

When Judy felt Gene leave a trail of kisses down her stomach, his mouth about to replace his hand, she tried scooting away and he lifted his head.

“No, no way,” she said adamantly.

He looked at her a little taken back. She loved when he pleased her that way, and he loved it. He loved her reactions and had intended to give her, her first orgasm of the night that way.

As if she could read his thoughts, she sat up, “I want you to be inside of me when I come.”

Most of the time, Judy always had some form of a second orgasm during intercourse, after coming from Gene’s mouth. It was not as strong, but still delightful. However, tonight she was afraid that her body might fail her if she came just from oral sex. And she knew she wouldn’t last long. She wanted to savor the time with him. That’s why, after she slowly undid his buckle and dropped his pants, she caressed him with her hand instead of her mouth, because she knew he wouldn’t last either.

Standing, but bending down as he sucked on her lower plush lip, he willfully took her wrist away from him. It twitched when he did, missing the feeling of her soft milking motions. After laying her back down, he rest his body on top of hers, but not to crush her, and they made out for a few minutes, always enjoying that type of intimacy. The kisses became erotic, heavy, as his hands caressed her breasts down to her thighs and up again. Her fingertips dug at the skin on his back, her hips rising to get closer to his hard arousal that slid up and down her entrance.

She whimpered in frustration and agony, “I can’t,” she managed to get out against his lips. She didn’t speak an entire sentence but he knew she couldn’t wait any longer. Her body was hot and bothered, as was his, but with a more refrain.

Standing up, her bottom at the edge of the bed, he held her thighs against him as he slowly slid into her. Her walls immediately grasped him making him groan loudly with relief and satisfaction. His reaction amused her as she let out a laugh through her gasp, feeling his pulse in an opposite rhythm of hers, making the sensation feel delicious.

He wasted no time fucking her and she responded whole-heartedly. Her sighs quickly turned into mewling cries as the pressure made her forget her surroundings. All she concentrated upon was the feeling of him sliding in and out and a burst of a feeling of love spread through out her chest, tingling her nipples. She bit her bottom lip and arched her head back as her hands slid over her breasts in a sensual way. Gene reached forward, placing one hand on top of hers, to remind her he was still there as she seemed to be drifting into another world of pleasure.

But his movement hit her just right, and she lifted her head gasping, “Right there.” “Yeah,” he said, mostly to himself through a sexual haze as his hands braced against her hips, keeping her in that same place so he could give her a great finish.

Her cries turned into loud moans as her body tightened, and started to twitch around him and his pace quickened, his hips smacking hard against her skin. Judy’s hands reached above her head, grasping the white comforter as if something to hold onto as the buildup was making her toes curl.  

“Oh,” she squeaked but lost her voice as it burst long and hard inside of her. Gene didn’t let up either, he kept at it, fucking her through her orgasm to make it last.

He didn’t even remember feeling her that tight around him and it made him dizzy as all his muscles were strained, his face nearly red, trying to hold out until she was sated. He was about to let himself go when she suddenly grabbed his wrist and gasped.

“Oh, Gene,” she tightened again whimpered, “Please.”

Feeling her coming again, made him proud, but was torture. He thought he was going to die at the sensation of not coming then. But he held himself together, nearly holding his breath, as he pounded her to a second orgasm. When he felt her gush around him, he let go without warning and his knees buckled. His hand quickly braced himself on the bed before crushing her.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned loudly as he continuing his pace as he shot out inside of her but it kept coming. “Fuck,” he repeated.

When he himself was completely drained, and her aftershocks wore off, he collapsed onto his back next to her. His skin was red, his heart was pounding, he felt like he just ran a marathon, but it was so worth it. He turned his head to look at her, and her hands were on her forehead, looking up at the ceiling almost in shock. It made him laugh through his heavy breathing.

She, in turn, let out her own giggle, “Oh my Gosh.”

Jazz was playing softly over the radio as Gene leaned next to the window, in one of the hotel’s, white complimentary robes, smoking a cigarette. He looked deep in thought as he stared down at Hollywood Boulevard still all lit up and still lively. His eyes saw the surroundings, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Anything exciting happening out there,” Judy asked as she walked out of the bathroom in a matching robe.

“No, but for what time it is, there’s sure a lot of people out.”

Judy walked over and peeked out, her eyes fixated on groups outside of Graumans Chinese Theater.

“Most likely tourists.” “And probably all taking pictures with your hand and footprints.”

“Yours soon, too, darling.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

“Because I am. How can they not? All I did was sing about a rainbow and be Andy Hardy’s girlfriend. You’re one of the most talented dancers and actors I’ve ever met.”

Gene let out a chuckle and placed his hand on her back rubbing up and down, “You’re sweet.”

“No, I’m honest,” she corrected and walked over to the bed.

He followed suit and they sat opposite of a silver tray of fresh fruit and veggie’s that they had ordered from room service.

“What were you thinking about at the window?”

“Oh, just about being here right now and how everything sees alright in the world, even though I know it’s not. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time, even though I’ve been off work all this time,” he made a face as if he were contradicting himself, “Does that sound silly?”

Judy nodded as she took a bite of a strawberry, “No.”

“Or maybe it’s just the ‘afterglow’ of sex,” he teased.

Judy heard his playful tone but she could tell there was something else behind it. She spoke carefully, “When’s the last time you had sex?”

Gene looked up at her a little hesitant at first, then responded, “When I was with you,” he said and bit into a carrot stick.

Judy gave him a genuinely surprised expression, “Are you joking?”

“Why would I joke about something like that?”

“I don’t mean it like that, darling, I’m just a little shocked.”

“Why? Because I’m married?” Judy gave a nod and he continued a little irritated, “What does that matter, anyways. How about you?”

“Just as long.” Gene gave her a look that showed he didn’t believe her and she immediately defended herself, “I’m serious. I mean, I’ve given...” she tried to find the right word to be respectful to Gene, “I’ve been a generous wife.”

Gene immediately made a disgusted face and put his hand up not wanting to think about her giving her husband a blow job.

She continued, “But he hasn’t been interested in anything else.”

“Do you think it’s because he knows about us?”

“No,” she said popping a grape into her mouth, “That’s the funny part. When he found out about us on our last picture, you know, our history together way before he and I even got together, he kind of accepted it that I wasn’t going to give you up.”

“Vince is a very ‘happy wife, happy life,’ kind of guy.”

“The thing is, Gene, we still made love after that. But now, we kind of have this cloud over us. He’s still lovely as ever towards me, I know he’s still disappointed that I got him replaced on Easter Parade.”

“He’ll come around.”

“I’m back with you, darling,” she said reaching over to place her hand on top of his, “That’s all I care about at the moment.”

Gene picked up her hand, kissing it, before she pulled away. They were silent a moment before she spoke up again, “Gene?”

“Ya?”

“Why has it been so long for you?”

“Does it really matter,” he asked sounding a little angry.

“Yes, because I just told you about me and Vincente. You said earlier that Betsy wouldn’t miss you if you disappeared for a night. Why?”

“Because she jumped in the sack with Ted Harper, my golf partner, while I’ve been recovering. He’s the same guy whose house I was at when I broke my fucking ankle.”

Judy’s mouth opened in complete shock. Betsy was the last person she ever expected to cheat.

“Yeah,” he said seeing her reaction, “Can you believe that?”

“Is she still with him?”

“No clue. We had words,” he chuckled remembering their screaming match, “Oh, boy, did we have words. She says they aren’t anymore, but I’m not sure what to believe. I ran into Ted the other day. It took everything in my power to punch the living daylights out of him.”

“Why even bother, Gene.”

“Because she’s still my wife and he was my golfing partner. It’s disgusting, a complete disgrace.” When he saw her look he continued, “Imagine if you were home sick and you found out that, say,…Kay slept with your husband during that time…”

“I’d be devastated.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you and Betsy right now?”

“We came to equal terms, let’s just say that. We’re going to try to move past it.”

“Are you kidding,” she asked, “She slept with your friend after you broke your ankle, how can you just let it slide like that?”

“The same way she’s letting it slide that I was sleeping with you after she had my baby.”

Judy dropped her fruit and looked at him wide eyed, “She knows?”

“It slipped out when we were fighting. I guess I was trying to hurt her in the moment, hurt her the way she hurt me. I regret it, but at the same time it feels good that she finally knows. That’s where we ‘shook hands’ sort-to-speak.”

“Gene, I cannot believe you told her!”

“What are you getting pissed about? Your husband knows.”

“My husband is a part of the studio system. He knows to keep his damn mouth shut. What if she opens her mouth and ‘let’s it slip’ to someone else? A reporter will hear it, it’ll get out, and the studio will eat us alive.”

“She won’t do that. Besides, she only thinks we had an affair during My Gal. As far as she’s concerned, we’ve moved on and you’re married in a studio’s match made in heaven.”

“You won’t tell her about now?”

“Nope, same reason you won’t tell Vince. So, let’s just move on from this conversation, shall we?”

“Fine,” she said with a raised eyebrow, “I was getting bored anyways.”

“Oh, you were getting bored?”

“Mm, hm,” she said popping another piece of fruit in her mouth.

“Let’s make you un-bored then,” he said before grabbing her arm.

She shrieked as she landed on his lap, but screamed in laughter as he started a tickling match.

It was 10 a.m. and the sky was a very dark gray. Jazz music was lightly playing over the radio as rain pound against the hotel window, rare, but not unheard of, for Los Angeles. The morning was so very comfy, and so very titillating for Judy, as Gene had woken her up with his head between her legs. It was so delicious, she felt simply heavenly, as she sleepily enjoyed the unhurried attention of his mouth slowly building her pleasure. Gene heard her moan as he felt her hand go to his head, running her hands through his hair massaging his scalp as his head moved ever so gently, and rhythmically, against her. Lifting his hands, he untied her robe so he could run his hand along her breasts to heighten her sensation. Suddenly, her belly started quivering unevenly followed by mewling cries and he knew she was close. He smiled against her as he locked his arms around her thighs to hold her down in place. Usually she ended up pushing his head away as she came, but he wanted to feel it. His licks against her pearl became more intense, only stopping to suck hard, before releasing and starting over again. Judy grabbed his hair in her fist, arching her back, moaning. The sound of his mouth pleasuring her just accelerated her pleasure and she couldn’t help but give off a breathy giggle with happiness. Everything about him brought her happiness. Gene barely heard her whisper that she was coming as the sound of her giggle made his heart explode. He wanted to climb inside of her being, her soul, and never leave. When he felt her thighs lock against his head, followed by her loud cry, he quickly moved his mouth to her entrance, moving his tongue in and out of her as her muscles wildly contracted around it. Judy thought she’d die of the sensation, and for a moment, had a selfish thought of wanting him to stay there forever.

When he felt her body relax, his softly kissed his way up her body until he reached her lips, and then they enjoyed a lovely, and passionate, good morning kiss. When he pulled back, she smiled gently lifted her arms from his waist and placed them around his neck, “That felt amazing, thank you.” “You are very welcome, sweetheart,” he replied and leaned in for another French kiss. Judy felt his arousal against her stomach and she reached down to caress him. He didn’t show any signs of resistance as her wrist moved up and down at a steady pace, their mouths sucking and pulling at each other’s lips, until he buried his face in her neck to lay kisses there. When Judy heard his soft groan, she released him and placed her hands on his chest pushing him off of he. He rolled over, laying on his back, his head lifted slightly against the head board as he watched her straddle him. And she easily slid down onto him. Gene loved overpowering her during sex, showing her how much she was desired, but he also loved this: her tiny body on top of him as he was completely buried inside of her. With her open robe slightly falling off her shoulder, Judy’s hips slowly grind back and forth against his pelvic bone as she pressed her hands slightly on his chest to balance herself. She felt Gene’s finger tips start to caress her thighs up and down and she linked eyes with him. When she did, the look on his face, the way he was staring as her, made her feel loved so much that the sensation made her almost tear up. Gene saw the unconditional love reciprocated on her face, and he exhaled roughly through his nose, keeping his own emotions in check. But Judy could see right through him, like he could her. “Come here,” he said, placing his hand on the back of her neck and she complied, leaning forward to kiss him. For minutes, his hands swept her hair off her face, their foreheads touching as she she breathed against his lips and cheeks. Her movement of her hips brought higher and higher until he was groaning, his hips bucking up into her until he shot out his love into her again.           Judy stood in front of the mirror, in her cocktail dress, placing her earrings back on, when she watched Gene walk out of the bathroom, now back in his suit. He looked a little solemn, which mirrored her own feelings. Neither wanted to leave the other. When he leaned against the wall, placing his hands in his pockets, his eyes met hers through the reflection. Judy lowered hers a moment before turning around and walking straight to him, placing her cheek on his chest. His arms engulfed her and seemingly they both glanced at the time. They had only ten more minutes until she had to check out, they could already hear the maid’s carts in the hallway. “Do you think there’s a difference between loving somebody and being in-love with somebody?” Judy thought for a moment, knowing exactly where this was heading, “Love to me is a lot of things, Gene, and being in-love is very broad.” “How so?” “Because I think it feels different with each person. I’ve been in-love with different men, and each time none of it felt the same. When you’re in-love with someone, you just know, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” “Does that scare you?” “Love doesn’t scare me.” “Why don’t you look at me and say that,” he said leaning back. She stood up straight and looked at him in the eyes, “Love doesn’t scare me.” “Yes, it does.” “Someone’s love for me doesn’t scare me. My love for others scares me, because of them possibly not feeling the same. Does it scare you?” “What scares me is being head-over-heels in-love with someone and I have to hide it.” Judy looked down, shaking her head, “Gene…” “Judy, let’s face it, we fell in-love. And like you said, there’s was no stopping it.” “The timing is horrible.” “It sure as hell is.” It was no secret to them that neither were ready to leave their families. It was something they both understood, as they were dealing with on a personal level. If they were prepared, they would’ve done so years ago. “Can’t we just be together,” she pleaded, “Even though I’m in-love with you, I still love my husband, my family. I’m not ready to  give either of you up.” Gene chuckled and kissed her, “I feel the same way. Is that selfish?” “Not to me, but it would sound preposterous to others, don’t you think,” she giggled. “Well, we’re anything but simple, you and me,” he was quiet a moment, thinking, before he continued, “Honey, can we make a deal?” “Hm?” “Two more years…I’ll give it two more years. If we’re both still not happy with our spouses, let’s make a deal to just end it with them and move on together. Otherwise, what’s the point?” Judy moved her lips, about to speak, but she thought about it to herself a second. Gene looked at her with apprehensively but when he saw her finally smile, he relaxed. “Deal,” she said reaching her hand out to shake his but instead he took it and kissed the back of it. A knock on the door startled them and they heard ‘housekeeping’. “Be out in a second, thank you,” Gene yelled. He turned back to her and put his hands on her face to kiss her once more, “I love you.” “I love you, too.” “See ya at the studio.” “You bet,” she winked.

[swinners1990]

Not So Berry Part 2?

Finished @lilsimsie’s ‘Not So Berry Challenge’ and looking for something else to keep you occupied? Well i was bored today and decided to write up my own 10 gen challenge for Sims lovers! I tried to go for aspirations I’ve personally not used, also the traits don't particularly match the generation colour but i find it fun having a colour to work with! Please let me know what you think of this and if you try it!

Basic Rules:

1. Each heir must represent the colour given for that generation (i.e hair, make-up, clothes and home items)  2. The colour of your sims spouses don't matter, nor dose the gender unless stated.  3. Cheats can be used, but not excessively.. (you can use freerealestate for your first home or mccc cheats for number of babies) 4. You may live in any world unless it is stated in the rules.  5. Keep lifespan on normal. 6. Every generation must complete both aspiration and career unless stated otherwise. 7. If you do not have all the packs and cannot do some aspirations or caeers etc. then adjust that generation to what you do have! & have fun! 

Generation One; Charcoal (start as teen with parents)

You’re a angry teen who’s parents don't understand why you wear thick black makeup and can always been seen in a band tee-shirt or anything with chains. Growing up with two strict military parents (you may cheat both parents high up in the military career) you are always rebelling, sneaking out after curfew to meet with friends or to drink at the local bar. Your parents are always nagging at you, so you have enough and leave for the big city, they think you wont make it on your own, but you’re stubborn enough to grind and grind to prove them wrong.

Traits; Mean, Kleptomaniac, Erratic  Aspiration; City Native Career; Baby Sitter (teen) & Odd Jobs only when a young adult/adult/elder (you may keep the Baby Sitter part time job after aging from a teen)

Rules;

1. Master City Native Aspiration. 2. Live in tiny apartment. 3. Never marry & only have one child 4. Master Guitar & Handiness skills plus two other skills of choice. 5. Have neutral relationship with child. 6. Leave home the day you age into a young adult. (or while a teen, but I'm unsure if teens can move out alone?)

Generation Two; Rainbow (all multicoloured clothes/hair/item's etc.)

After growing up in a dark colourless home, you want to be surrounded in as much colour as possible, you wanted it to look as if a rainbow crash landed in your home! You didn’t have a good or bad relationship with either of your parents, and being an only child was lonely, all you’ve ever dreamed of was a big happy family!

Traits; Good, Family Oriented, Childish Aspiration; Big happy Family Career; Professor

Rules;

1. Master Big Happy Family aspiration and Professor career. 2. Max the Research & Debate, Parenting, Bowling & Cooking skills. 3. Have at least 4 children. 4. Marry an adult sim while you're still a young adult. 5. Have a family bowling day out once a week on a day of your choice. 6. All children must share a room.

Generation Three; Hazel

Your home was always crowded, sharing a room with all your siblings you could never hear your own thoughts, so you spend most of your time outside playing, reading, playing the violin or cloud gazing, dreaming of a quite life by the sea.

Traits; Bookworm, Loves Outdoors, Child Of The Ocean Aspiration; Beach Life Career; Diver (teen) / Marine Biologist 

Rules;

1. Master Beach Life aspiration & Both Careers. 2. Max Fitness and Violin skills. 3. Must live in Sulani. 4. Have a mermaid best friend. 5. Have a close relationship to all children. 

Generation Four; Pearl

As a toddler you loved life on the beach, but once a child you went to school and discovered the Drama Club! You fell in love with acting and spent all your time in front of the mirror practising lines! You had stars in your eyes and nothing would stop you from being famous!

Traits; Self-Obsessed, Materialistic, Ambitious Aspiration; World Famous Actress Career; Actress

Rules;

1. Master World Famous Actress aspiration and Actress career. 2. Max the Acting, Charisma and Wellness Skills. 3. Join Drama Club after your first day at Grade School. 4. Have a butler and a maid. 5. Marry another famous sim. 6. Live in Del Sol Valley. 7. Become a 5 Star celebrity.

Generation Five; Mauve

While having celebrity parents was fun at times, they was always busy and you spent a lot of your time with the staff. After a while you started enjoying the company of animals rather than other sims. You decide that you want to run your own Veterinary business, but don't want it just handed to you like any other rich kid. So you BORROW the money from your parents for a small starter Vet Clinic & pay them back as soon as you start making money. (you can ask for large loans if your charisma is high enough, if not then use money cheats then cheat the money away to “pay it back”)

Traits; Cat Lover, Dog Lover, Cheerful Aspiration; Animal Lover Career; Vet Owner

Rules;

1. Master the Animal Lover aspiration. 2. Adopt stray animals only. 3. Lot traits to be both Cat & Dog Hangout 4. Max the Veterinarian, Pet Training and Knitting Skills. 5. Donate all knitwork to charity. 6. Marry an employee. 7. Vet Clinic must get to at least 4 Stars.

Generation Six; Emerald

Growing up surrounded by cats and dogs meant you was never alone, which in turn was an issue as that's all you wanted at times! As a teen you would love nothing more than to take a cooler to the local lake and spend hours alone, fishing! And if you wasn't doing that you would be out back crafting away!

Traits; Loner, Neat, Maker Aspiration; Angling Ace Career; Fisherman (teen) / Freelance Crafter

Rules;

1. Master Angling Ace aspiration and Fishing career. 2. Max the Fishing, Fabrication and Piano skills. 3. Have twins only. (don’t matter how many sets, but all children must be twins-Good luck!) 4. Fabricate most of own furniture. 5. Be engaged but never marry.

Generation Seven; Tangerine 

Being a twin was amazing and you loved your sibling, they’re your best friend! But sometimes you never got all the attention, it was shared.. EVERYTHING was shared! When teens, your twin becomes more into sports. While you are always glued to a phone or computer screen. Constantly taking selfies and updating your social media.. Finally getting the attention you've always craved! 

Traits; Hates Children, Self-Assured, Jealous  Aspiration; Fabulously Wealthy Career; Internet Personality

Rules;

1. Master Fabulously Wealthy aspiration and Internet Personality career. 2. Marry a rich sim. 3. Constantly upload videos, blogs & drone recordings. 4. Max the Media Production, Singing and DJ Mixing skills. 5. Hire a nanny daily to take care of any children you have.

Generation Eight; Cotton Candy

Your parent lived online for as long as you could remember, you had a good relationship with both your parents but you was always closer to you father. You found beauty in the greenhouse, and was never more relaxed than while you was tending to the garden and bonding with the bees. Your aim is to make your neighbourhood greener than your grandparents hair! You have one BFF as a child, but once teens the friendship turns romantic! 

Traits; Greenfiend, Recycle disciple, Vegetarian Aspiration; Freelance Botanist Career; Botanist

Rules;

1. Master Freelance Botanist aspiration and Botanist career. 2. Max the Gardening, Flower Arranging and Herbalism Skills. 3. Have a well maintained garden. 4. Don’t Woohoo until after married. 5. Have an outdoors/Beach wedding to childhood best friend. 6. Live in Evergreen Harbour  7. Make your neighbourhood green.

Generation Nine; Powder Blue

You had a happy free childhood and loved your parents dearly, but growing up you longed for adventure! You would jog everyday dreaming of climbing Mt. Komorebi! After taking a vacation there as a teen you fell in love with the scenery and culture, after that you concentrated on your training to do the big climb! 

Traits; Active, Proper, Outgoing Aspiration; Mt. Komorebi Sightseer  Career; Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Rules;

1. Master the Mt. Komorebi Sightseer aspiration and Extreme Sports Enthusiast Career. 2. Max the Rock Climbing, Snowboarding OR Skiing and Fitness skills. 3. Successfully climb Mt. Komorebi. 4. Have a ‘No shoes Allowed’ household. 5. Only ever do a ‘Respectful Introduction’ 6. Go jogging every morning.

Generation Ten; Sunflower Yellow

Your parents love for adventure rubbed off on you, they always taught you to follow your dreams, so you do and you set your sights on Archaeology! It was exciting and a different kind of adventure to your parents mounting climbing!  You'll be the next Indiana Jones, but how will you fund your full time adventures? Why not write about your amazing adventures too? Surly people will read about that!

Traits; Adventurous, Genius, Romantic Aspiration; Archaeology Scholar Career; NO JOB. (Odd jobs are allowed on occasion)

Rules;

1. Master Archaeology Scholar aspiration. 2. Write & publish books about your adventures. 3. Max the Archaeology, Writing, handiness and Selvadoradian Culture skills. 4. Only ever vacation in Selvadora 5. Marry a Selvadorian native.

I hope you enjoy this challenge as much as the original Not So Berry Challenge! It was so fun to come up with! 

[justcallmefox89]

Mammon’s Wedding Part 2 -Truth or Dare Series

Mammon and Arianthi visit the human realm to get some much needed time away, but not everyone is pleased by their absence from the Devildom.  Time away from home makes the couple think about their future together.

(Artwork is a commission of my OC Arianthi and Mammon by @daddydemus​  They are an amazing artist so go visit their page and show them some love.)

This story is told from the perspective of my female OC Arianthi, and also features my enby OC Jax, from the Artist in the Devildom series.

NSFW: blowjob, face fucking, unprotected sex, demon sex, foreplay, soft gentle sex......just some good old fashioned smut y’all.  

I sit wrapped in a large blanket on the hard packed sand of the beach watching the sun start to set and fog roll in over the water.  There’s a soft shuffling sound behind me and I smile to myself when I hear familiar muttering.

“What are ya doing out here?  Tryin’ to freeze to death?”  Despite his grumbling Mammon sits down behind me, pulling me between his legs so I can lean back against his chest.

“And what was the big idea leavin’ me alone like that?”  He kisses my temple, pouting.

I wrap his arms around me and squeeze his hands gently.  “I’m sorry baby.  You were sleeping so well I didn’t want to bother you.”

I can almost feel him frowning behind me.  “Are ya not sleepin’ again?”

“I’m ok baby, I promise.  I slept a little bit but I wanted to come watch the sunset.  There’s nothing like this in the Devildom.”

His arms tighten around me.  “Sure isn’t.  D-do ya miss it?  When you’re there with me?”

I lean my head back against his shoulder and tip my face up, silently asking for a kiss.  Mammon obliges and I savor the feeling of his lips against mine.  

“Sometimes I do,” I answer once we break apart.

“O-o-oh.”  

“I had 24 years of sun and different seasons.......24 years of this.”  I gesture out to the ocean.  “It’s hard to just let all of it go.”

Mammon stays silent, his body tense.

“I’ll never regret trading this to be with you,” I murmur, raising his hand to my mouth to place a tender kiss on his knuckles.

The tension automatically flows from his body and he chuckles.  “Of course ya don’t.  Who would ever regret bein’ with THE Great Mammon?”

I laugh and gently squeeze his thigh.  “You are so full of it.”

“But ya love me,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into my neck, tickling me.

“So, so much.”

We sit in companionable silence, watching the horizon turn pink as the last few rays of the sun disappear.  

“What would ya think about stayin’ here?  About maybe not going back?”  Mammon finally asks.

I twist in his arms little so that I can look at him.  “I didn’t think that was an option.”

He gives a lazy shrug.  “There’s nothing sayin’ I have to stay in the Devildom.  I just can’t ever go back to the Celestial Realm.”  

His places his hands gently on my stomach.  “And if we ever get another chance at startin’ a family don’tcha think we’d be better off raising the kid here?”

I frown a little, considering his words.  “But what about your brothers?  And your modeling?”

He doesn’t look at me, just shrugs again.

I stare up at the sky, watching stars appear in the velvet darkness.

I miss this.  Seeing the sky and the sun.  I know he would miss his brothers though.  I would miss them.

“I think we should go back,” I finally say.  “That’s where your family is.  I don’t really have anything holding me here, just my friends from college, and we can visit often enough to see them.  Besides, if we have a baby that’s anything like you I’d like to have your brothers around.  I’m sure we’ll need all the help we could get.”

“Hey!”  Mammon pretends to be offended then squeezes me tightly.  “Are ya sure about this baby?”

I nod.  “I’m sure.”

He gives a low rumble of happiness before kissing the top of my head.  “So what are ya wantin’ to do about the wedding?”

“Oh.  Well, how does it normally work in the Devildom?”

Mammon scratches his head, thinking.  “I mean, it’s not really a thing down there ya know?  But there are commitment rituals for the ones that want to do it, just most of ‘em don’t stick with one person forever, so those are pretty rare.  How do ya do it here?”

“Some people turn it into a whole big production,” I say, laughing.  “Before the wedding there are usually bachelor and bachelorette parties and the wedding shower, which is just a classier party with better gifts.”  

Mammon smirks.  “So parties and presents?  Sounds good so far.”

“Then there’s the wedding itself where you promise to love and take care of each other forever.”

He squints at me in confusion.  “We already did that.”

“Um well, a few of my friends have gotten married and they all had their ceremonies in churches.”

Mammon wrinkles his nose like he’s smelled something foul.  “I liked the party thing better.” 

“Don’t worry I’m not crazy about that either.  I don’t care where we get married, just that we do get married.  Most people have a reception after their wedding though, which is just another big party with booze and food and dancing.”  I pat his hand and smile at him reassuringly.

He nods begrudgingly.  “That sounds ok.”

I think for a second, trying to remember other details from different weddings I’ve attended.  “There’s a lot of paperwork you have to fill out and submit to the government to make the marriage legal.  And all the girls I know from college who’ve gotten married have taken their spouse’s last name.”  

“So ya got to turn in some papers to get married?  That’s what makes it official?  Not the lovin’ each other and promisin’ to be faithful and all that?”  Mammon looks singularly unimpressed.

“Welcome to the human realm.”

Mammon suddenly frowns.  “I don’t have a last name,” he grumbles.

“You could always take mine,” I say teasingly, smiling and booping his nose.

He doesn’t laugh the way he usually does when I boop him; instead he looks unusually serious.

“Mammon Wolf,” he says, knitting his eyebrows together, considering.

I stay quiet, rubbing gentle circles on the palm of his hand with my thumb.

“Mammon Wolf.”  He tries it out again, rolling the name around in his mouth.  He finally breaks out into a wide smile.  “I like that.  I wanna do it.”  

“Yeah?”  I look down at my hands, suddenly feeling very shy.

Mammon rubs his nose against my cheek.  “Why ya being all blushy baby?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, trying to hide my face against his chest.  “I guess......it just makes me really happy you’d want to do that.”

“Mmmmm.  You’re so cute when ya get all shy like this baby,” Mammon teases, kissing my neck softly.  “I still think it’s stupid ya gotta fill out paperwork to get married.  The promises are more important than some pieces of paper.”

I cuddle deeper into his embrace.  “You’re not wrong.  It’s not like you could fill out the paperwork anyway.”

“Mmm.”  He nibbles on the delicate shell of my ear.  “You wanna go grab some food?”

“Grace’s?”

I feel him smile as he kisses my cheek.  “Sounds good.” 

He helps me to my feet and we walk the few hundred yards back to our Air BnB hand in hand.  We’ve been staying in a tiny town on the Washington coast for two weeks now, our return date to the Devildom still undetermined.  We’d spent our days so far exploring the beaches and small shops in town, returning to the beach house in the afternoons to cuddle and take long naps.  

I leave the blanket hanging on the porch railing and follow Mammon into the house.  

“Shower with me?”  Mammon raises an eyebrow and smirks at me.

I tap my chin and pretend to think about it.

“Oi!”  He grabs my hips and pulls me towards him, growling low in my ear.  “Ya really gotta think about it?” 

I run my hands under his shirt, walking my fingers over his abs and up to his chest.  He shivers beneath my touch, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.  I move my hands lower until my fingertips skirt the waistband of his jeans.  He closes his eyes and tosses his head back, subtly rocking his hips forward.  I run my hand over the front of his jeans, gently palming his hardening cock.  

“Uh,” Mammon whimpers.  “Play fair baby.”

I lean forward to mouth the sensitive skin below his ear.  “Never.”

He gives me a stinging slap on the ass and laughs.  “Go get in the damn shower human.”

I give him one last grope for good measure then sprint to the shower.  He chases after me laughing and calling my name.  We help each other undress and step under the stream of warm water, still teasing and laughing at each other.

“Help me wash up baby,” Mammon murmurs suggestively, rubbing his body against mine.

“I don’t know......” I tease, pushing my hips back against him.

“Come on Ari, please.......” he whines.

I love it when he calls me that.

I wrap one hand around the back of his neck and pull him in for a searing kiss.  His tongue brushes mine and I reach lower, stroking his cock as he gasps into my mouth.  His hips move on their own accord, thrusting his cock into my hand as he grips my waist.  We’re both slick with soap and desperate with need; the build up of two months without sex.

Not quite yet.

I smirk and speed up the movement of my hand, listening as Mammon’s breathing picks up, waiting for the little cues that tell me he’s getting close.  He sucks in a deep, shaky breath as the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tighten.  When he bites his lip and his eyes start to flutter closed I know it’s time.  I slow my hand, gripping the base of his cock and pressing the palm of my other hand firmly over the head.

“Unh!”  Mammon’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.  “W-w-what?  Why?” 

I take a step back and brush my wet hair out of my face, shrugging innocently at him.  

“Babyyyyyyyy,” he whines as he uses his body to press me against the cold tile of the shower, rubbing his hard cock against my thigh.  “Don’t stop.”

I reach around him to grab my shampoo, ignoring his pleas.  He ruts against my thigh needily, whimpering into my neck while I lather my hair.  I let him play while I rinse and then condition my hair, confident that he won’t cum without permission.  He bites down hard on my shoulder, trying to get my attention.

I grab a fistful of his hair and jerk his head back.  Hard.  

“That wasn’t very nice baby,” I murmur, nibbling a path up his neck to his ear.  “Be a good boy and don’t do it again.”

He mumbles something unintelligible as he reaches for me, trying to pull to me closer.

“What’s that baby?”  I tug on his hair again.

“I won’t do it again miss,” he whispers, resting his forehead against my shoulder.

“Such an obedient boy,” I praise him before dropping a series of soft kisses over the taut skin of his chest.

“Please Ari, please.......please,” Mammon whimpers, rocking his hips, desperate for more friction.

“Mmmmm........I don’t know baby,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a teasing kiss on the lips.  

I stretch up on my tiptoes to bring my mouth close to his ear.  “Wouldn’t it be more fun to wait until later tonight?  It could make the finish a little more.......explosive.”

Mammon goes stiff and his whole body shudders; I can almost hear his thoughts.  On one hand, some quick shower fun and a nice orgasm now.  On the other hand, hours of teasing, frustration, and orgasm denial culminating in some no holds barred sex......which he hasn’t had in months.

I watch his internal debate for a full minute before he growls in frustration and lets me go.  

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, turning the temperature of the water down to freezing and standing directly under the spray.

I shriek and jump out of the shower.  I hear Mammon yell, “Serves ya right!” before I grab a towel and scamper out to the bedroom to get dressed.

An hour later we’re finishing up a doubles game of pool at Grace’s, a low key pub that we discovered our first night here.  Our opponents are another pair of tourists and Mammon being Mammon, has bet $100 on the game.  It was a good bet considering our opponents have yet to make any of their shots and all we have left is to sink the 8 ball.

I study the table, trying to decide which pocket to call.  Mammon is animatedly chatting up the other couple, gesturing wildly with his hands while they laugh.

“Hey baby?”  I call out to get his attention.

“Hmm?”  He turns his blue eyes to me and raises his eyebrows.

I raise my pool cue.  “Come help your girl make this shot?” 

Despite the blush on his cheeks he gives me a cocky smirk as he saunters over.

I hook his pinky with mine and grin at him.  “So what do you think I should do?”

He tilts his head and studies the table for a moment before gesturing and saying, “Corner pocket.”

I pout and look up at him through my eyelashes.  “Help me?”

He raises his eyebrows.  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”  

“Is it going to work?”

He doesn’t even hesitate.  “Damn right it is.”

I giggle as he stands behind me and we lean over the pool table together.  He hold his hands over mine, back flush to my chest, our hips pressed tightly together.  Mammon bites his lip in concentration as he helps me line up the shot and I subtly press back into him.  He starts a little but doesn’t loose focus.   I press my hips back a little more and grind my ass over his cock.

“Fucking hell baby,” he mutters, stepping back quickly.

“You ok?”  One of our opponents asks.

“Just fine,” Mammon answers between gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at me.

I blink back at him innocently before calling and sinking the shot.  I lean against the pool table and smile at Mammon as he collects our winnings and then walks back over to me.

“Nice shot baby,” he says as he leans down to kiss me gently.

“Couldn’t have done it without you Mr. Wolf,” I murmur against his lips.

His eyelids flutter at the sound of the name and he shivers in delight.  He grabs my hips and lifts me onto the pool table, standing between my legs.

“Say it again,” he growls.

“Say what?”

“You damn well know what.”  He nips at my earlobe.  “Say.  It.  Again.”

I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist.  “Come here and kiss me Mr. Wolf.”

“Fuuuck.”  He brings his lips down on mine, jerking me into a rough kiss.  I flick my tongue against his and he moves to grind against me, stopping himself at the last moment.  

“Hey you two, knock it off!”  A playful voice reprimands us as a dishtowel smacks against the side of Mammon’s face.

We break apart sheepishly and Mammon helps me down from the pool table.

“Sorry Grace,” I apologize to the bar’s titular owner.

“No you’re not.”  She smirks at me, brown eyes shining.  

“Not even a little.”

She laughs, pushing her white hair out of her eyes.  “How much did you take off those tourists?”

“$100.”

“Play you for it,” she challenges Mammon with a grin.

“Feelin’ luckier tonight than ya were a few days ago?”  He smirks.

I think I’ll leave before the shit talking truly starts.

I kiss his cheek for luck.  “I’m going to go talk to Jordan.”

“Bring me another beer when you come back?”

“Sure thing my love.”

Mammon smacks my ass as I walk away and when I turn back to glare at him he and Grace are both laughing.  I smile and roll my eyes before making my way to the other side of the pub, looking for Grace’s wife.  I find her cleaning glasses at the far end of the bar.

“Hey you,” she greets me as I slide onto a bar stool.  “Where’s your man at tonight?”

I nod towards the pool tables.  “Playing pool with your wife.”

She chuckles.  “Get you anything?”

“Two more pints of Guinness?”

“Sure thing kiddo.  Do you mind if I finish these glasses up first?” 

I shake my head then rest my chin in the palm of my hand to relax and watch her work.  A loud whoop comes from the direction of the pool tables; Jordan and I both look over to see Mammon sink a trick shot.  He looks up, searching the bar for me, wanting to show off.  He relaxes and smiles wide when he realizes I’ve already been watching him and gives me a small wave.  

“When are going to marry that boy?”

“Hmm?”  I twist on my stool to face Jordan.  “Sorry, what did you say?”

She grins at me.  “I said, when are you going to marry that boy?”

“Just as soon as I can,” I answer softly.

She frowns a little, pale blue eyes studying me carefully.  “Somethin’ not working out with the wedding planning?” 

I stare at her, mouth open.  “Someday you’re going to tell me how to do that.”

“You pick up a few things when you’ve been bartending as long as I have.  So spill.  What’s the problem?”  

I shrug, tapping my fingernails on the bar top.  “There’s nothing wrong.”  

I think back to the earlier conversation at the beach.  “Mammon has some......special circumstances and he isn’t able to fill out the paperwork so we can get married.”

She arches an eyebrow at me.  “So?”

“So........what?”

“So what does some paperwork matter?  That’s not what makes the marriage.”

I keep tapping moodily on the bar top.  “That’s what Mammon said too.”

Jordan grabs one of my hands.  “Look kiddo, you think Grace and I had legal paperwork when we got married in ‘79?  We wrote our own vows and got married anyway and we’re 41 years strong.”

I nod, following along.

“Let me ask you something; where ever you two are going after this, is having legal paperwork going to make any difference to your situation?”

“No.”

She grins at me.  “And I know you’re both over 18.  So go on and marry that boy your way.”

I find myself grinning back at her.  “Thanks Jordan.”

She slides two more pints of Guinness across the bar.  “No worries.  But it looks like your guy could use a little rescuing.”  

I turn to see a petite redhead standing entirely too close Mammon.  As I look on she reaches out and strokes his arm with her fingers, smiling brightly at him.  He quickly steps out of reach, looking down at her in confusion.

I dig a twenty out of my pocket and slap it down on the bar.  “Thanks Jordan.”

“Go get ‘em tiger.”

I grab the two pints and purposefully stalk back to the pool tables.

Is this what Mammon feels like all the time?  Jesus Christ.  No wonder he gets cranky.  

I set the two pints down on the pool table then hug Mammon from behind, slipping my hands into his front pockets.  

“Make a new friend baby?”  I ask.

A rush of air leaves Mammon as he sighs in relief.  “Nope.  Just missin’ you.”

He moves me to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.  

The redhead frowns prettily, eyes flickering between Mammon and me.  “I didn’t know you were here with someone.”

I hold my hand out.  “I’m Arianthi.  His wife.”

Mammon momentarily starts behind me before sighing happily and hugging me to him more tightly.  “My wife,” he echoes.  

“Amy.”  She gingerly shakes my hand.  “Um, well.....I should be getting back to my friends.”

I hear Mammon chuckle behind me as she scurries back to her friends.

“What was that all about?  Were ya feelin’ jealous?”  Mammon’s tone is equal parts shock and amusement.

I turn in his arms to face him.  “Yes.”

His mouth drops open.  “Oh.  I didn’t think you’d admit it.”

I laugh then nuzzle my face into his chest, mumbling softly.

“What’d you say baby?”  

I sigh.  “I said you’re mine.”

He grins down at me.  “Goddamn right I am.”

“I didn’t like seeing her touch you.  At all.”

“Ohh, I like this cute little face you make when you’re jealous.”  Mammon runs his fingers along my jaw.  “Thanks for rescuing me baby.”

I give him a soft kiss.  “Anytime.  Now drink your beer before it gets warm.”

We stay at Grace’s until last call then wander back to the our beach house hand in hand.  I dreamily gaze at Mammon as we walk, admiring his profile in the soft light of the moon.  His hair and gold jewelry stand out in stark relief against his tan skin, and his blue eyes glow in the darkness.

Mammon catches me looking.  “Oi!  Whaddya starin’ at?”  

“You.”

“What for?”  He grumbles.

“You’re really pretty Mammon.”

Mammon’s eyes go wide and his face flushes.  “O-o-oh.”

I slip a hand in one of the back pockets of his jeans and squeeze.  “You’ve got a great ass too.”

“Yeah?”  He gives me a cocky grin.

“Oh yeah.”

We climb the porch steps and I wait while Mammon fumbles with his keys to unlock the door.  I stand behind him, pressing my breasts against his back and running my hands along his thighs.

Mammon’s hands shake a little and he nearly drops his keys. “Damn it baby.”

He tries to sound gruff but the breathy tone of his voice gives away his excitement.  I reach around to stroke him though his jeans and smile at his sharp intake of breath.

I lean forward to kiss his neck.  “Come on Mr. Wolf.......get door open so we can go play.”

Mammon groans, hurriedly shoving the key into the lock and turning it so quickly I’m afraid he’s going to snap it off.  He quickly pushes me inside, kicking the door shut behind us before he picks me up bridal style and carries me into the bedroom.

I yelp in surprise when he unceremoniously drops me onto the mattress.  “Mammon!”

“You’ve been teasin’ me all damn night,” he mutters, yanking his shirt over his head.  “Rubbin’ that cute ass on me, feelin’ me up every chance ya got.”

He kicks his boots off next.  “Kissin’ on my neck the way ya know I like it.”  He unzips his jeans.  “Makin’ me a goddamn horny mess.”

He steps to the edge of the bed and pulls his cock free of his jeans, stroking and staring at me hungrily.  “Get over here and finish what ya started in the shower.”

I shiver in excitement and my eyes roll back in my head a little.

Stern Mammon makes his appearance.

“Right away Mr. Wolf,” I murmur, moving so that I’m lying on my back, my head hanging off the edge of the bed.  

“Holy fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, moving to to stand over me.  “Are ya sure baby?  I-I don’t know if I can be gentle about this right now.”

“I’m not asking you to be gentle Mammon.”  I look up at him and very deliberately open my mouth wide.

He lets out a guttural moan and works his jeans down a little lower on his hips.  Cock hard and heavy in his hand, he strokes as he rubs the head over my lips and tongue, teasing me and letting me taste his pre-cum.  He’s trying to ease me into it, to not start off too rough right away; his hands are trembling, the muscles in his legs straining against his urge to give in and ruthlessly fuck my face.

I reach out and grip the back of his thighs with my hands, urging him forward.  He looks down at me uncertainly.  I urge him forward a little more, opening my mouth wider and taking his cock deeper into the warmth of my mouth.  The fragile thread of his self control snaps and Mammon places his hands on the mattress, one on either side of my head, and rocks his hips, thrusting his cock deep into my mouth.

My back arches up off of the bed and I choke a little as I take the entire length of Mammon’s cock into my mouth.  His eyes widen in alarm and he attempts to pull back but I dig my fingertips into the soft flesh of his thighs, holding him still.  His hands grip the sheets and he hisses in pleasure.

“Ya really want it like that?”

I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock in slow, lazy circles.

Mammon’s eyes flutter closed and he lets out a deep growl.  “Tap my leg three times if ya need to breathe.”

He withdraws then snaps his hips forward repeatedly in a punishing rhythm, barely giving me a chance to take a breath before bottoming out in my mouth again.  The sound of fabric ripping fills the room and cold air rushes over my chest.  Mammon pushes the remains of my shirt and bra aside and caresses my breasts gently, the soft touch at odds with his rough treatment of my mouth.

I gasp around his cock as Mammon’s cool fingers tease my nipples, pinching and tugging them to sensitive buds.  I close my eyes and relax my throat, humming in pleasure.

“Oh fuck.”  Mammon’s voice is breathy and I can feel his his body tense as he nears orgasm.

I reach up and behind me to drag my fingernails down his abs, scraping gently at the sensitive flesh.  Mammon shivers and thrusts into my mouth one final time, his thick, warm cum filling my mouth and sliding down my throat as he moans out my name in pleasure.  He takes a few deep, shuddering breaths before pulling his softening cock out of my mouth and helping me sit up.

I swallow his cum and greedily suck in a deep breath of air before smirking at him.  He immediately flushes pink and looks down at the floor shyly.

“Whaddya lookin’ at me like that for?”

I shrug out of the remains of my shirt and bra, using the ripped fabric to wipe my mouth and chin.  “You’ve never used your strength like that before when we’ve......you know.”

His eyes widen.  “I-I’m sorry.  It just felt so good, it was too good baby, I just needed to.......”

“Don’t be sorry!”  I reach out and pull him down onto the bed with me.  “I liked it.”  

I cuddle into him, dropping soft kisses down his neck and across his collarbone.  

“Yeah?”  Mammon smirks down at me.

“Oh yeah.  You owe me a new bra though.”

He chuckles.  “When we get back to the Devildom I’ll buy ya all the lingerie ya want baby.”

I laugh and tug on his jeans.  “How ‘bout you take these off and get in bed with me?”

“After a blowjob like that I’ll do anything ya want me to.”

We both shimmy out of our jeans and slip beneath the cool sheets, cuddling close to each other for warmth.  I curl my fingers tightly around the object I pulled out of the pocket of my jeans before I got into bed.

Mammon taps a finger against my closed fist, smiling softly.  “Whatcha got there baby?”

I reach for his hand and gently press a simple platinum band into his palm.  He looks at me in confusion then raises the ring to look at the writing on the inside of the band.  

“What’s this say?”  He asks softly, tracing the engraving with one slender finger.

“Da mi basia mille, dein mille altera,” I whisper, running my thumb gently over his full lower lip.  “’Give me a thousand kisses, then a thousand more’.  It’s Latin, from a love poem by Catullus.”

I take the ring from him and slip it onto the ring finger of his left hand.  He gasps quietly, blue eyes flying up to meet mine.

“I love you so much Mammon.  You are the only person I want to kiss for the rest of my life.  I promise I will always be on your side; I will always be your best friend and your fiercest protector.  I promise to make you laugh every single day, and to never let you forget how very loved and wanted you are.  I’m so excited to build a life with you and to see you be a father to our children.  I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find you and I’m so proud to call you my husband.”  

I bring his hand to my lips and gently kiss each finger, lingering on his wedding band.  

Mammon gives me a shaky smile and pulls me tight to his chest.  I can feel his heartbeat thundering beneath my fingertips and he presses a soft kiss into my hair.  

“If ya would’ve told me a year and a half ago I’d be gettin’ married and tryin’ to start a family and bein’ more responsible I woulda thought you were out of your damn mind.  Especially if ya told me I’d be gettin’ married to a human.”

I swat at his chest playfully and he grabs my hand, kissing my fingertips.

“I’m bein’ serious when I say you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me.  And I’ve been alive a long damn time.  You’ve always made me feel important; you make me brave and you make me confident.  I promise I’ll always keep you and our family safe.  I’m gonna work so hard to never let ya down again.  I can’t promise I never will but I’m always gonna try.  I promise to keep bein’ your best friend and to always put ya first.  I’m gonna do everything possible to be the best husband and dad I can be.  I love ya so damn much it hurts sometimes, but I’m never gonna stop.  I’ll love ya until my very last breath.  Thank you so much for bein’ my wife baby.”

Mammon holds me close and cups my face in his hands, kissing me softly, a few happy tears dropping onto my cheeks.  I thread my fingers through his silky hair and pull slowly on his bottom lip with my teeth.  He sighs into my mouth and I brush his tongue with mine, tasting him.  I grip his hips and slowly pull him on top of me, arching my body up to meet his.

“Please Mammon.......I need you,” I murmur against his lips, breathless with lust and happiness.  

His whole body shudders at my whispered request and a soft pink blush dusts his cheeks.  “I need you too,” he replies, shifting his body so that his hips rest between my thighs.  

Mammon lowers his head to my neck as one large hand slides down my waist to my hip.  He drops a series of feather light kisses against my neck and I throw my head back against the pillows, giving a soft gasp of pleasure when he slides one slender finger deep into my pussy.

He moves his head lower and gently sucks on of my nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and fangs.  I grip the sheets beneath me tightly and whimper when he slowly adds a second finger.  He strokes me gently, delicately, taking his time to work me into a frenzy.  Mammon’s mouth moves to my other nipple to lavish it with attention while his fingers slide out of my pussy to trace teasing circle around my clit.

“Mammon.......”  I let go of the sheets to card my hands through his hair, flinching in surprise when I suddenly feel his ......horns?

My eyes fly open to see Mammon above me, still stroking and suckling, fully in his demon form, his wings spread wide as he pleasures me.  I slide my hands into his hair again and teasingly stroke the skin around the base of his horns.

“Holy fuck,” he whimpers, before his eyes open wide in realization and he starts to pull away from me.  “I’m so so-”

I grab his face in my hands and pull him back down to me, passionately kissing him.  “Don’t you dare apologize,” I order him when finally break the kiss.

“’I’ve never shifted in the middle before, I mean.......you don’t mind if I stay like this while we.......”  He trails off, the tips of his ears scarlet.

I stretch languidly, pressing my body flush to his.  “Not even a little bit Mr. Wolf.”

He smiles at me shyly.  “Well in that case......”

Mammon lowers his head, kissing and biting along my collarbone, before working his way up my neck and across my jaw.  His hands caress my thighs and he gently pushes my legs back until my knees are touching my chest.  He gives me a deep, sensual kiss, his tongue entering my mouth at the same moment he slides his cock into my pussy.  He slowly bottoms out, rolling his hips as his thick cock stretches me.

“Tell me how ya want me Ari,” he whispers.

“Be gentle with me tonight Mammon.”

He nods, pressing soft kisses all over my face as he hooks my legs over his shoulders and pulls out, before slowly thrusting back into me as deep as he possibly can.  He presses his face against my neck, sliding his hands up the mattress to grip mine and pin them above my head.  I don’t resist, fully surrendering my body to his worship.

“You are everything,” he murmurs, mouthing at the sensitive skin beneath my ear, continuing his slow, deep thrusts.  He keeps my wrists pinned with one hand and uses his other to slowly trace the curve of my waist down to my hip.

I arch my body, trying to feel as much of his skin against mine as possible.  

Mammon’s hand slides back up to cup my jaw and he tenderly brushes his thumb over my lips.  I open my eyes to see him gazing down at me adoringly; his blue eyes soft and hazy with tears of joy and love.  I raise my hips to meet his every deep thrust, captivated by the way his body moves as he fucks me.  

He pulls away from me for a moment to adjust our position, lowering my legs  and allowing me to wrap them around his waist.  He pushes up to his knees and lifts my hips to thrust his cock deep into my pussy.  I bite down hard on my lower lip in an effort to stop from screaming out.  

His hand comes back up to stroke my cheek and he gently works his thumb into my mouth.  

“None of that baby,” he purrs, rolling his hips, each movement carefully calculated to allow his thick cock to stretch me even further.  “I wanna hear every little noise ya make tonight.”

“Yes Mr. Wolf,” I mumble around his thumb.  

His eyes roll back a little as his hips stutter.  “Keep that up and I’ll cum before ya know it,” he mutters.

I grab his hand, guiding it down to my breast and whisper, “I’m sorry Mr. Wolf.  Please forgive me?”

He groans, hands tightening on my breast and hip so hard that his fingernails prick my skin.  A shudder runs through his wings and he snaps his hips forward in one brutal thrust.

“Fuck,” I gasp.  “More Mammon, more.”

He smirks at me, pulling all the way out before thrusts his cock back into my pussy excruciatingly slowly while his lazily circles my clit with one fingertip.  

“You said ya wanted gentle baby,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna work ya up nice and slow.  Make ya cum so hard and leave ya so fucked out you won’t wanna leave this bed for days.”

Mammon rolls my clit between his thumb and forefinger as he buries his cock in my pussy, sending me over the edge.  He holds still as I cum, my pussy clenching and spasming around his cock.

“Fuck I love makin’ you cum.”  He resumes his languid pace, slowly working my body up to my next orgasm. “Do you even know how pretty you look, cummin’ all over my cock like that?  And ya feel so fuckin’ good, all tight and wet just for me-”

He moans loudly and buries his face into my neck.  I wrap my arms and legs around him to hold his body flush to mine.  I slide one hand into his hair, reaching up to grip one of his horns.  

“Ari.........Ari please baby,” he whimpers, nipping at my neck.  “I’m gonna cum if ya keep doin’ that.”

I snake my other hand into his hair, gently wrapping my fingers around his other horn.  “Cum for me then.  I’m so close.....I want you to cum with me Mammon.”

He shivers in response and his wings flutter.  “Yes........yes baby.”

I kiss his neck, leaving gentle bites, and close my eyes as I lose myself in the sound of our breathy moans and the feel of his cock deep in my pussy.  Suddenly he presses his forehead against mine.

“Look at me baby, please.  I need to see you,” Mammon whimpers, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

I look up at him; taking in his disheveled white hair and the way small beads of sweat roll down the firm muscles of his chest.  He bites his lip, hungrily looking down at me with wide blue eyes.  I feel my second orgasm coming on, hot and quick.  I pull his face closer to mine and kiss him gently, tracing his lips with the tip of my tongue.

Two more deep strokes and I orgasm again, my body pressed tight against Mammon’s.  He follows me quickly, whimpering as my pussy clenches around his cock and his warm cum fills me.  

We stay joined for several long moments and kiss softly while Mammon cradles me close to his chest, his wings draped over us.  

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you too.  So much,” Mammon replies, nuzzling his nose against mine.

Thirty minutes later I emerge from the shower, smiling to myself when I walk back into the bedroom and hear Mammon snoring softly.  He’s stretched out on his stomach, his head cradled on his right arm, while his left arm is flung out in front of him and resting on my pillow.  The early morning light seeps through the window, highlighting the bright white of his hair and making the platinum of his wedding band spark.

Too adorable.  Must.  Take.  Picture.

I find my D.D.D. and snap a quick picture, writing a quick caption and uploading it to Devilgram.  I tag Mammon in the picture and grin when I notice that he’s made a change to his Devilgram page.

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

Several hours later Diavolo is sitting in his office at R.A.D., taking a break from a mountain of paperwork that has accumulated since Arianthi has been in the human realm.

With Mammon.

Diavolo’s face darkens and he scrolls through his D.D.D. searching for something to take his mind off of her.  His eyes suddenly widen and he grits his teeth, the small muscles in his jaw twitching as he stares down at the screen of his D.D.D.  His hand tightens on the device and it shatters, small pieces of plastic raining down onto the surface of his desk. 

Barbatos silently steps forward and sweeps the remnants of the D.D.D. into a small wastebasket and makes a mental note to pick up a new one for his master.  

Barbatos says nothing as he watches Diavolo despondently cradle his head in his hands.  The only sound he makes is a soft sigh as he exits Diavolo’s office.  If only Diavolo had listened to his subtle suggestions on wooing Arianthi.  Things could have been so very, very different for his lord.  

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

Jax and the six demon brothers lounge in the living room after dinner.

“Has anyone heard from Arianthi or Mammon today?”  Lucifer inquires as he sifts through student applications to R.A.D.

“Not me,” Satan answers without looking up from his book. 

“Nope,” Beel and Belphie say in unison.

Levi and Jax shake their heads while Asmo frowns down at his D.D.D. in concentration.

“Asmo?”  Lucifer raises his voice to catch his younger brother’s attention.

“What?!”  Asmo asks, startled.

“I asked if anyone has heard from Mammon or Arianthi today.”

Asmo shakes his head then returns his attention to his D.D.D. and frowns again.  

“Is there something wrong Asmodeus?”

“Oh, no.  Mammon changed his screen name on Devilgram is all.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes before picking up a pen and turning his attention back to his work.

Jax lays their head in Beel’s lap and smiles up at him as they pull out their D.D.D.  Beel gently runs his fingers through their hair before opening his potions textbook and beginning to read.

Jax brings up Devilgram up to check Arianthi’s page, curious to see if she’s uploaded any new vacation photos.  They pause on her newest photo of Mammon and give a soft smile. 

“Awwwww,” they coo, drawing the attention of the brothers.

Levi quirks an eyebrow at them.  “What was that for?”

“Arianthi posted a really cute picture on Devilgram of Mammon sleeping.”

“What!”  The brothers all scramble for their D.D.D.s to check the post.

Lucifer smirks while Levi and Satan snicker and Asmo re-blogs it.  

“This is too good,” Belphie chuckles.  “I wonder if he’ll make her take it down once he sees it.”

“It’s cute,” Beel murmurs, leaning down to kiss Jax’s forehead.

Jax smiles at the picture one last time and starts to exit Devilgram when something in the picture catches their attention.  They scroll to Mammon’s page then quickly go back to Arianthi’s page.

“Holy shit those crazy bitches really did it!”  They exclaim, sitting up so quickly they startle Beel into dropping his book.

“Who did what now?”  Levi asks, annoyed.

“They got married!”

“Who did?”  

Asmo’s eyes go wide as he puts the pieces together.  “That’s why he changed his screen name!”

Lucifer scowls.  “What are you two talking about?”

“Mammon and Arianthi got married!”

“WHAT?”

Jax motions everyone over to them and opens up Mammon’s Devilgram.  “He changed his name to Mr. Mammon Wolf.  Wolf is Arianthi’s last name.”

Everyone but Asmo looks at them skeptically.

“Now read her caption - ‘My present, my future, my forever’.”

Lucifer looks at him, completely unimpressed.  “Is that supposed to mean something to us?”

Asmo sighs.  “That caption is so disgustingly sweet only a newlywed would have written it.”

“Weak,” Levi scoffs at his younger brother.

Jax rolls their eyes and brings up the picture Arianthi posted of Mammon sleeping.  “Look!  Look at Mammon’s left hand.”

“Oh my dark lord,” Lucifer breathes.

“Is that....?”  Satan whispers.

“That’s a wedding ring.  I’d bet my right nipple on it,” Jax says triumphantly. 

Mammon’s brothers share one long, shocked look while Jax sits in smug silence.  

A small smile slowly forms on Lucifer’s face.  “Well.  It seems that we’ll need to prepare a party to welcome them home.

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

After posting the picture to Devilgram I slip back into bed with Mammon, snuggling under his arm and close to his chest.

His eyes blink open slowly and he gives me a soft smile.  “Hey wife,” he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Hey husband,” I murmur, gently brushing my lips over his.

Mammon chuckles and his arm tightens around me.  “How ya feelin’?”

“Sleepy.  Happy.  Loved.”  I sigh in contentment as I sink deeper into his embrace.

He kisses my forehead.  “How ‘bout we get a little more sleep and then I’ll show ya just how loved ya are?”

I roll onto my side and he pulls me to him, my back flush to his chest, and he curls his body around mine protectively.

“I love you baby,” Mammon say softly, kissing the back of my neck.

“I love you too,” I murmur as my eyelids flutter shut and I drift off to sleep, safe and warm in my husband’s arms.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

31. The One That I Get to Build With

Previous Word Count: 7608

Hazel was less irritated with Grace and Simon when they were honest with her and told her that they were going to be involved in a relationship, but not openly. They didn’t want anyone else to know, mostly because Grace was very secretive and didn’t want the same people who often intruded into her social media to find their way into this relationship, as they attempted to build it.

So, the simple rule was that if someone made a comment about the relationship not to respond to it and if someone asked about it, not to answer. They just moved the conversation right along, like the relationship had not been mentioned. Grace and Simon used to do that all of the time. Hazel, they worried might find it more difficult, but they were counting on the fact that most people who might ask her would be online, where she could easily ignore them.

Simon went to his parents’ for Thanksgiving. Apparently, his dad begged him to , because he was certain that this would be his mom’s last one… Simon guessed that Grace was making him soft, because he couldn’t say no. It felt wrong to just refuse. “You gonna be okay?” Grace asked, the night before his flight.

“Yeah,” he answered, sadly. “I’ll stop by to see your parents, while I’m out there.”

“They’ll probably be at a banquet or something. Hazel and I are going to do some charity and bring some people to shelters, then have dinner together and retire in our jammies to have movie night.”

Simon groaned, “Why do you have to rub that in my face?”

“Don’t complain.” He pouted silently. “You’ll be able to be around for Christmas, if you’re still playing your cards right.”

“I’m never gonna mess this up.”

“Awww. Well… see you when you get back.”

She made sure that was correct, because whenever Simon got back, the Monday after Thanksgiving, Grace was asleep in his bed. He’d given her a key almost as soon as they decided that they were going to give themselves a try, but she didn’t really use it. He was grateful that she had that night. Seeing his family had been enough to make him grateful for what he escaped from. After he washed up, he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. She stirred to ask him how it went, and when he said he didn’t want to talk about it, she simply rested her head on his chest, kissed his tattooed pec, and went back to sleep. The scent of her hair gave him a comfort that he had forgotten existed the previous few days. This was one of the things he was thankful for, wrapped up tightly in his arms, in his bed.

.

Simon and Hazel decorated his house for Christmas. Really, Simon decorated and Hazel critiqued, but it was “helpful,” for her to tell him everything that he seemed to be doing wrong… for a while. It was actually extremely cold and he didn’t usually spend that amount of time outside in such weather. Plus… the criticism. He wasn’t fond of being criticized, even after years of therapy. Eventually, he told her, “I think I can handle some lights, Hazel. I graduated from MIT.”

Hazel rolled her eyes and told him, “You say that to me and I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean any more than you know what you’re doing with these lights.”

“Hazel…” He said it then took a pause to catch his breath and realign his patience. That was what Grace called it. Realigning your patience. She’d take a look at him and ask, “Do you think maybe you need to realign your patience?” Not to calm down, and not accusing him of getting upset, but asking him to realign his patience and somehow, every time, he got soft and did exactly that. “Good job, Gray Eyes,” and a strum of his ponytail later, he’d be a cool pile of putty for her to mold… But Grace was inside of the house and her little Christmas slave-driver was not the model of invoking patience…

“Gra-a-a-ce!” Simon called out. “GRACE!” He said louder and more short.

She came running outside and immediately checked on Hazel. “What is it? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Please, get her cocoa or something,” Simon said. It was given like an order and gave Grace pause, to look at him like he was out of his mind. “Please?” He repeated, softer. “I need to realign my patience and it’s hard to focus in this cold…” She softened up too.

“Come on, Haze,” Grace wrapped an arm around Hazel’s shoulder and guided her inside. Simon got more done now, but he hoped that it looked okay. Hazel had caused some doubts. Eventually, Grace called him and told him to come inside and recalibrate. He groaned, but knew that it was a commandment, not a suggestion. Besides, he was freezing his balls off.

Whenever he walked in, it felt so refreshingly warm. The house smelled like pine, fire, and some sort of candles that Grace had lit all over the opening of the house. Hazel and Grace were in the kitchen. Hazel, seated at the island with an absurdly large mug that her GlamMother got her for winters in New York and a plate of something that smelled remarkable. Grace took his coat and hung it on the rack and gestured at his shoes. He set them on the rack next to the door and she led him to the kitchen. “Since Hazel is a great helper, she helped me to try out my first recipe from a recipe book that I got as an early Christmas present!” She cheered.

Simon didn’t look excited about it. Everyone knew that of Grace’s many talents, the only ones that happened in the kitchen were usually DIY natural beauty products. She gently forced him into the seat next to Hazel and began to excitedly prepare him something.

Simon leaned towards Hazel and whispered, “I’m sorry about losing it out there. Level with me. Should I be worried?”

Hazel smirked and tilted her head, “Are you suggesting that Our Grace can’t follow the instructions in a recipe book, Simon?”

“No… Just… wondering if she can…” Hazel snorted. It didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t devoured her gingerbread men.

“Okay, SO… Here is a cup of crock pot hot chocolate and…” she turned around with a mug and a plate and it looked vaguely familiar. “Gingerbread Man VS Snowman S’mores…” Simon gasped, recalling being with his Nana dad's mom, before she died and making an entire murder scene with her gingerbread man cookies and the marshmallow snowmen that she was going to melt into the cocoa… he then let out a hearty laugh about that situation.

“I wanted to try to be a good girlfriend for Christmas, so I called your dad while you were away and he shipped me your grandmother’s recipe book that she gave your mom when she passed away. He said that nobody has used it in years. It is SO descriptive! AND… She notated the stuff that each of her kids, grandkids, and their spouses and stuff loved. So… I found all the ones marked “Simon,” bookmarked them, and discovered that you helped her create one of her treats!”

“I can’t believe she recorded that!” He laughed, explaining, “What I did was ruin a bunch of her stuff and whenever they caught me, my dad was ready to give me a spanking, but Nana intervened and asked, “Don’t you see that the boy’s a genius? Why, he just created my new favorite treat!” We took the broken gingerbread cookies and the snowmen, made smores and pretended that it was the after effects of a warzone. She let me tell the story of how they were fighting, because she’d missed out on that part of my game… That was… actually my first creative story that I shared with anybody. So, you actually just gave me a really special gift, because I hadn't considered that historical memory in years.” Grace’s eyes were wide and glossy. Simon stopped laughing to come to hug her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Grace.”

“Don’t thank her yet, you haven’t tasted it,” Hazel teased. She bit off the head of one of the additional gingerbread man cookies that weren’t in the war. It was actually really good! Simon’s grandma must’ve left great instructions, or Hazel was to thank for Grace following through so well with them.

Simon put off the rest of the decorations until the next day. Whenever he finished, Hazel was actually awestruck. The scene? Elves taking the sleigh on a joyride, one of them hanging off of the rails, one on a reindeer's back, one controlling the sleigh and one ducking in it, peeking out.

“How did you do this? How did you do that?” She asked about various aspects of the scene.

“I graduated from MIT,” Simon said, taking a sip of a mug of cocoa with a melting snowman marshmallow in it. Hazel still didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she now at least respected it.

Christmas Eve at Grace’s was everyone’s wildest dreams come true. At least the three of them. Grace had arranged matching jammies - they weren’t identical, but you know… the same designs/color pattern. They were reindeer themed and she had some for Samantha, as well. Samantha and Hazel had wearable antlers. Simon and Grace had hoodies that “turned them into” reindeer.

They worked on each other’s hair - Grace being exceptionally good at braids now gave Hazel an elaborate celtic braid that she had been wanting for a while, and Simon two French braids. Hazel and Simon bickered over who could be better at doing Grace’s hair and she wound up with one of them on each side, turning her into a lopsided headed hot mess. She took selfies of the act in progress and even went live to show people what she was doing with her Christmas Eve… just because sharing certain parts of her life was fun…

OF COURSE, she anticipated that she might accidentally get a shot of Simon’s face as she did this, but she was careful to try not to. Whenever she DID accidentally do so (or maybe someone heard his voice or Hazel say his name in the background or something), she had plenty of comments to ignore about the matter. But, someone within minutes had already created posts about Simon and Grace in family pajamas and doing each other’s hair.

When she turned it off, she reminded them that they weren’t saying anything about it. But, all of them had their own photos and people definitely were piecing together the matching pajamas, even though Simon wasn’t posting full photos of himself on his… he DID post photos of Hazel, Grace and Samantha. Eventually, Hazel, with her doe eyes told them that she wasn’t used to having a Christmas like this and she wanted an actual family photo. Simon made it happen, as the one who was best at it, and Hazel changed her profile pic to it. This was a Christmas dream come true for her, so Grace didn’t raise a fuss about the nosy people. Simon was grateful for that, too, as he wrapped himself around her, while Hazel laid her head on her lap for them to watch Christmas movies until Hazel fell asleep. Simon tucked her away in her bed, setting the atmosphere of the room the way that he had seen Grace do several times in the time that they had been spending time sleeping over at each others’ - the lighting, the diffuser, her Tuba stuffie, and Samantha had come into the room and curled around her feet. Simon gave Hazel’s hair a strumming and shut the door quietly behind him.

Whenever he went back out, Grace wasn’t in the living room anymore and she’d turned off the TV, so he presumed she went to bed, as well. He picked up any clutter they left laying around and put things back where they belonged before he retired too. Grace was… awake… She wasn’t in her matching pajamas anymore. Instead, she had on a red nightie that hardly covered anything, with some fun stuff beneath. He froze, shut the door, locked it. She leaned back against the pillows and smirked, “It’s Christmas Eve. I believe that you have something to show me.”

“Permission to present, Ma’am?”

“I consent.” Simon smiled and removed his pajamas before approaching the bed and removing his boxers. “Bring it here, for further inspection,” she said, with a teasing smile. He climbed into bed, and saw that she had on pasties that read “Naughty” and “Nice” and her thong had a picture of a mistletoe on the front. He stared at it and looked up at her. “I consent,” she repeated, to answer his unasked question.

They still weren't going all the way. Grace wasn't sure when she might be ready for that and Simon wasn't pressing his luck by asking for more. Besides, there were things far more important than sex and while her using favors and acts as a means to keep him… in line, he was more than appreciative about the fact that he was invited to spend New Year's Eve with she and her friends.

Whenever Mr. and Mrs. Monroe came over for the opening of the presents, Grace was back into her pajamas again and nobody ever would have known just how naughty she had been the night before. Hazel got more presents than were even reasonable, and Grace was given a lot by her parents and Simon, as well. Simon was surprised that her parents had bought him gifts as well. He had expected ones from Grace (was unsure about Hazel, but glad to receive from her too). There was… a lot of love he was feeling. It reminded him of whenever he used to spend holidays with the Monroes and be treated at least like he mattered, if not like family. He cried about it, apologizing to the Monroes for everything he'd done. Mrs. Monroe brushed it off, but he and Mr. Monroe wound up talking at length about things men are supposed to do and not supposed to do, why he had been disgusted by Simon's decisions, etc. At the end of it, Simon did feel like Mr. Monroe forgave him. Mrs. Monroe was always going to feel how she felt, and that was alright. It had to be, just like it had to be, that Simon was always going to feel how he felt about his parents… who also sent gifts for him and Hazel with the Monroes. Hazel and him decided that they would video call them together to thank them. Faith looked terrible. She looked like a fading ghost. But, she was starting to be nicer. Probably the guilt and the fear of thinking that something was next.

For Simon? What was next was here on Earth. Christmas Day yielded him having to put together things for Hazel and Grace, finish making sure that dinner was right, and continually try to score brownie points with Grace. The Monroes were staying at an upscale hotel, but stayed at the townhouse well past nightfall. Grace had kept certain things steady - the candles, sometimes throwing a little handful of herbs she selected into the fireplace, everyone’s drink glasses, and check-ins with Simon, to make sure he was still feeling okay, as this was their first Christmas together and her family could be stressful, etc. He was great. He never wanted it to end. He felt needed and wanted. He felt cared for and acknowledged. He didn’t even have that anxious feeling that it was all going to go away.

He wound up having to carry Hazel to bed. She fell asleep on her grandparents’ laps, playing on a new device they got her, which he put away first and tucked her in, accordingly.

“He seems very comfortable here,” Mrs. Monroe said.

“We’re working on things, Mom,” Grace said, nodding. Her parents had about the same amount of information that everyone else had about this situation. The more that they knew was that Simon would be there for Christmas. They hadn’t expected him to have slept over, in matching pajamas, to be cooking the food, building the toys, and certainly not for him to be tucking their granddaughter into bed. “We’ve been working on things since maybe a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, give or take a few days.”

“So, he’s made this place a second home in a month’s time.” It was a statement.

“Mommy! Stop.”

Simon returned, just as cheerful as before and paused when he noticed the energy in the room. He pointed his thumb towards Hazel’s room and said, “I may have to add something in there to make storage more optimal, with all the new stuff..” Grace just smiled and nodded. “Did I interrupt something.”

“Just my reservations about you being here,” Mrs. Monroe said. Simon frowned and he nodded. “But, my daughter is an adult now. She makes her own decisions and if you tell her too much that she doesn’t like, she moves across the country and rarely calls…” Grace groaned, “SO! I guess my reservations will merely dissipate, like they’ve done in days past.”

“I think you should definitely feel how you feel…” He bit his lip and told Grace, “I’ll head home.”

“Head home? You’re not gonna stay?... and… help me clean up in the kitchen?” She asked… not wanting him to leave her alone with her parents and not wanting to say that either. But, he took the hint.

“Right! Sorry. Of course, I am.” He squeezed her hand and sat down beside her. There was some silence, then he broke it, “I know that everyone has reason not to believe me and I’m not going to beg anybody anymore… except for Grace, sometimes. At this point, it is out of everyone’s control whether or not I can be trusted, as Grace has decided to try to trust me. It’s now up to me to live up to that opportunity. Everyone is welcome to come to my house tomorrow and go through and see what I’ve been up to lately.”

They spent some time at his house the next day and now, Mrs. Monroe wondered, “Why didn’t you just host Christmas here?”

“Maybe next year,” Grace said, with a shrug. It was the best thing that Simon had heard. He smiled and blushed and puffed his chest out. She was considering that she hoped to still be with him next year. That was a perfect ending to his Christmas, and he prayed for New Year’s Eve to go well, too.

.

Shana fortunately was not going to be there. She and her girlfriend were in Cali for Christmas and New Year's. In fact, there were several other people that were there that hadn't been around for the birthday party Simon had sort of crashed. Tulip, Mikayla, and Julliard chick who he found out was named Chapa were there, along with the Black ginger dude, who they called Meta, and Damita, Grace's alleged best friend. There were about a dozen other people too. Among them, Ghairrisahn, and truth be told, seeing her again, and in close quarters, Simon was still a little bit smitten by her. But, he also kept looking at Grace, who had worn what was essentially sparkly jewelry out.

It was luminescent chain mail two piece, pleated like victory curtain swag that flowed like water and sparkles like embers whenever the light caught it. The cup only bra and seamless panty beneath was so customized to her skin tone, he'd thought that she was naked beneath and initially almost injured himself when she took off her fur coat.

Nobody in the room was as sexy… Though… he really had to admit… Her friends were all pretty sexy.

Someone offered him a beverage, and he declined, "I don't drink."

"Are you both straight edge?"

"No. I take a lot of meds and have a partially functioning liver and less than stellar spleen. Couldn’t afford to drink, if I was even tempted to."

"Jesus! A medical condition?"

"Ummm… the meds, yes. I've got delusional tendencies, ummm… not heavy, but enough that I need the additional assistance. The organs were the consequences to one of my many, many aggravated episodes."

"Which… were not actually related to his psychosis," Grace offered and threw him a look, wondering why he was divulging the information this way.

"Not directly. I have some struggles, but I also can be an asshole," he chuckled. "A little childhood trauma, poor early development resources and a personality disorder that I've been working through, with a lot of help…" he looked at Grace and she cupped his chin and smiled at him. That was enough to help him relax.

"You don't have to tell people all of that, Gray Eyes. “I’m on medication” is enough, or even, just “I don’t drink."

"It's… fine." He smiled back, his heart uncontrollable as he looked her way. God, she was beautiful and precious. He loved her so much. He loved that she was with him again, and that it was more than it had ever been before.

"How bout a virgin daiquiri?"

"Sure, thanks."

The night mellowed out after a while. Grace went to call in with the nanny to check on Hazel when it was her bedtime. Simon watched her as she stepped out of the room, sparkling and waited to see her strut back inside. "Hazel just went to bed," she told him.

A few moments later, Meta asked Simon, "Have you heard Grace freestyle?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Freestyle."

"Freestyle?"

"Rap…?"

"Rap…???" Simon immediately thought about when they were younger and Grace tried to rap. She was probably 13 he was sure not 14 yet, and it was both miserable to hear but the absolute best thing because it was so comical. That thought alone steered him from the surrounding conversation that followed onto laughing uncontrollably.

Grace and Ghairrisahn stared at him and others tried not to laugh at his response. Grace simply thought, ‘So, you’re just gonna sit here and laugh in my face like this?’ Tears were streaming from his eyes! When he finally composed himself he took a few moments trying to breathe again and asked, "Hmm?" he repeated, “Rap? Like… rap music?” He got up to find some tissue and Grace folded her arms, smirking. “I’M GONNA PEEE!!!” Simon called out, rushing to the bathroom.

He returned a few minutes later, seemingly composed, but muttered the word, “Rap,” and laughed again, though not as hard, this time.

Ghairrisahn suggested, "Let him listen to her Fat P**** verse."

Simon choked and his eyes were wide, "Her what?"

"Oh my God, you guys! That was so long ago!" Grace said. "Please, nobody have that! I already had to sit here and watch this man laugh harder than he ever has in all the years that I’ve known him."

"I have it," Damita said. “I still jam Fat P***y. Salty that they never made and released that. That was dope. We can always use more p***y songs, in my opinion.”

Simon was definitely on board to keep hearing pretty women casually say the P word, but his face must have shown his confusion, because Grace explained, "Whenever I first tried to make my mark in the New York music scene, they were wondering if I could rap, and I had been practicing…" Simon started laughing again, but she talked over him, "BECAUSE, I didn't like the way I used to sound. So I was trying to tap into like the hot girl aesthetic and when Sahn called to ask me if I wanted to write some songs for her and maybe work on demos with her, one of my more risque songs that was all singing of course, they asked, can you throw in a rap verse?"

“Here’s the verse,” Damita said and turned it up:

“Ever since I was a baby sucking on my mama teet, everybody realized, wasn't nobody hot as me.

I was born with it, true, I got it from my mama. Grew up, glowed up, now these b****** want drama.

Can't be mad at me cuz your men keep flocking. Girl I don't want them n****s, I tell them to keep walking.

Why do she? Act like she all that, stuntin hard, swear to God on all them alleycats.

Why she never shook when every other bitch would be?

I got too much of my own to ever act like a groupie. Every real n**** know that girl so bougie.

Why so many high rollers be wanting her to choose he?

Maybe that's because they know she got that good coochie.

That's right, fat p***y on my stat sheet. They wanna hit, but I only let ‘em eat me.

Pucker up, work that tongue until they can't breathe -

And only if they got the energy to please me… Fat P***y…”

The song went on to soulfully and smoothly sing about fat P, and there were whispers and ad libs that he knew were Grace. By the end, he wondered where her rap was. "What happened?"

"I practiced and got better at rapping, so my verse sounded good, but they didn’t like it. They felt like it was too much.”

He laughed. "That wasn't you!" They played it again and she rapped and sang along. Simon had a look in his eyes as he was forced to admit, "Well… you definitely got better than the rapping I remember."

Then, he was once again thinking about how she sounded way back when. It caused another fit of laughter. “Boy, fuck you!” Grace said and playfully kicked him. Even still, he couldn’t stop laughing.

What made matters worse was whenever Damita asked, “Was your rapping as bad as the freestyle you did on Tuba’s show?”

“WHAT???” Simon asked and howled at the sky. “PLEASE! PLEASE… Do you have that?”

“It’s online,” Damita said.

“Woooooow. You are such a fake friend,” Grace said.

“You… did it in a studio audience…”

Simon found the clip and it wasn’t actually bad. It was definitely of the Kids’ Bop variety, but he loved it. “You’re good at rapping now. Because, I mean… do YOU remember when you first tried?”

She shook her head, “No, that sounds made up. I think you imagined it.” Simon stopped smiling and stopped to think, with an anxious look on his face. Grace caught her mistake and winced. She climbed onto his lap and said, “No, no, no… I'm sorry. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean that. You didn’t imagine it. I definitely tried to rap and sounded like somebody’s suburban Becky with a struggle blaccent.” He took a deep breath and nodded. She took his chin in her hand and forced his lips to pucker for her to kiss. “Sorry about that. I promise, I didn’t mean to make you panic.”

“S’ok.” He smiled.

Ultimately he had Damita to send him the audio of the demo. As funny as the idea of her wrapping had been before, he couldn't deny that there was something very appealing about getting to hear her say that word over and over.

Ringing in a new year kissing her lips in front of other people felt like a tremendous accomplishment. Appearing in several of the photos with her and her friends that were circulating social media, and then leaving with her on his arm, in that goddamn bracelet from Tiffany's and the fur coat. Ghairrisahn gave him a kiss on the cheek goodnight. He and Tulip exchanged contact info for a possible work project later. Nobody punched him. He was able to get some friction action from Grace, to the point of losing control in his pants, and he had a new catchy song to sing and rap about.

Every time he brings it up, it's either him laughing about how he remembered her old rap, or him rapping sporadically about having a fat P… which.. also gave him a little chuckle. Neither of them knew at that time that he would walk around the house rapping it for a few weeks, every few months, for quite a while.

"For someone with little compact titties and a tight little petite butt, you do have a pretty fat pu-"

"I will definitely react in displeasure if you finish that statement…" They gave each other wincing smiles. He punctuated his by kissing her on the nose real quick.

.

Whenever Valentines Day rolled around, she told him that she didn’t really want to do anything… which he HATED, because he loved that day! But, she wanted to be lowkey and she didn’t think that he could manage lowkey. She decided to make him one of his beloved ASMR videos, of her eating chocolate covered fruit and sucking on ice cubes with edible flowers in them. “This is gonna help smooth me over for a long time,” he said watching it. “I made you a video too.”

“Send it to me!” she said.

Whenever she opened the video and it was a fanvid compilation of her dancing in music videos or her social media posts, played to match up with Fat P***y, she cackled, then shook her head, “I am so tired of your ass,” she joked.

That was around the time that the revised second book of Esmoroth: The Idol Princess Falls was released.

Hazel decided that she would read them to Grace, because it had become obvious that Grace was never going to read them for herself and things were always easier to hear when they came from Hazel. She loved Hazel’s voice. She was able to get both books read to Grace by the end of Spring Break that year. Grace frequently texted Simon her complaints with this Idol Princess and how she was depicted. He was working a lot of the time and grateful of that fact. She wasn’t cool with most of the first book. She warmed up with the second one, EVEN THOUGH the Idol Princess died near the end. Correction: The Future King KILLED her! KILLED HER. He tried to explain that he couldn’t change that portion. That it was important to the plot of the third book, where the Future King would be hunted down because of this murder and go on a journey to bring the Idol Princess back!

It was extremely important.

“Okay, but how does she ever forgive this motherfucker after the way that he turned on her for something that was a misunderstanding?? HE KILLED HER, SIMON!” He knew that most of her emotions were because of who those characters represented. That book sold more than the first one and she found herself in the Esmoroth fandom… at least incognito, seeing that the Idol Princess was actually quite hated and many were relieved of her death. They didn’t know yet that she would be back and it took a lot out of her not to tell those punks! Did they even read the same book?? Simon found her on the porch swing, with her phone, crying.

“Grace…”

“It’s the exile from the Apex all over again.” He kneeled beside her. “They’re treating her exactly like they treated me and what am I gonna do? Get upset over a fictional character? No. I’m upset over the fact that whether she’s fictional, or whether she’s real, this is what people always do. We can’t do anything right.” She wiped her tears. “She tried really hard to make everyone happy and she died trying to help him. Trying to SAVE him, and he purposefully killed her, and they STILL see her as the bad guy. It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the Apex and I’m sorry for the Esmoroth fandom…”

She sighed and shook her head, “Fuck them nerds, Man.” She said. But, she was still hurt. Mostly, because it felt so much like reopening wounds that she thought she had healed from. It got so bad to the point that Simon almost backed out of publishing the last one, but he HAD to publish that one! That was the story of how the Future King was willing to go through every trial and tribulation, face every danger and fear just to get his friend back. What he hadn’t told her was that the character ultimately has to be willing to die, himself in order to awaken her. He had a few different possible endings and he wasn’t sure which one was most sufficient. He figured that might be because his future with Grace wasn’t always very clear. Particularly after he awakened that pain of betrayal inside of her.

The couple’s and group therapy was especially helpful during this time, because she honestly felt unreasonable in how upset this story made her, and had to remember and realize that her feelings weren’t necessarily towards the book’s feedback, but her own unaddressed hurt for the way that she had been treated. Sure, she had forgiven Simon, but at Simon’s initial harm, she had been subjected to thousands of hurtful opinions and harassment. She had spoken to a few people and rectified things - Shana, Simon, her parents… but what about the general public? What about her former “friends” and “followers” online? The people who she didn’t know before who appeared simply to speak on how much they hated a 16 year old girl. The people who made her life hell by forcing their way into her mentions, and into her mind… and once again… Simon, because he KNEW that they would and he KNEW it would hurt, because she had been very open with him at the time that such things were hurting her.

How was she supposed to build with someone who she would apparently for at least a long time, if not forever, she would think about how he tore her down. How he learned everything about her when they loved each other only to use things against her when he thought they didn’t.

Once upon a time, Simon was convinced that he had never done anything wrong in his life and that every time something happened that was wrong in his world, it was because of the people around him doing things to him, which was true in certain cases, but certainly not in every case, and definitely not in Grace’s case… But, once he felt attacked, all bets were off and he wasn’t letting up on her. It reached the point where she wondered if it was her fault and while she suffered her breakdown, before he was ever forced to get help of his own… she had attackers from all sides. Strangers. Associates. Fake friends… And they all rose against her, despite the fact that she was already down and the fact of the matter was and always would be that she was already down because Simon KNOCKED her down.

And… she had loved him through it. She’d always loved him. It was something that she felt so stiupid about for so long, while she was recovering, and for a time, she didn’t feel that way. In fact, as of the moment, Simon had done absolutely nothing to make her recall the hurt. She might have been offset by reading those books, and escalated it by checking out the fandom, but while he would always have a fear of abandonment from his mom or whatever… she was starting to feel like she would always have the fear of his betrayal. She was willing to hear him out, to work on establishing boundaries and rebuilding trust, rebuilding love, but there would probably always be the underlying torment, “I didn’t know how much he hated me, before. How can I ever know that I haven’t made one of his hard to determine mistakes and that he isn’t in the process of making me pay for it?” She asked, crying. “I just… have to trust him… but… I thought I did, then suddenly… I realize out of nowhere, maybe I don’t. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I never will.”

Simon started crying but he put one hand over his face and tried to suck it up. “The worst part is that he’s done nothing to provoke this wave of distrust… so it feels like there's not really anything that he could do to reassure me. He was already in the process of reassuring me and this just arose…" Simon sobbed. "Simon…" he shook his head. "This is what happens. When something comes up, he feels responsible, then I feel bad."

"I AM responsible. It doesn't matter if it was years ago. The damage was done and I'm the one who did it."

"Have you to tried taking some space apart to just be able to find each of your bearings without leaning on how each other makes you feel?"

They hadn't. But, now that the counselor suggested it,they would. Grace worried about Simon… that he might… react. She spent the first few days paranoid, checking behind her and being startled by every surprise sound at home.

During that time, one of her music videos released and the internet was abuzz with the racy nature of her single Lovedrunk Country and certain scenes in the video, including her choreography which included pole dancing, a peepshow setting, and at least one lapdance in which she is seen dancing with her thighs open in the recipient's face.

Someone (many someones) asked Simon what he thought about the video and he said, "It's an incredibly sexy video with awesome costume design and chorography. Who doesn't want to be the guy in the chair?"

She'd warned him whenever they were filming of some of the stuff in the video, but she had forgotten by the time it aired and worried that he might have too.

Grace: Heyyy… How is everything?

Simon: Confusing.

Grace: How do you mean?

Simon: I'm on so much meds right now.

Grace: For what?

Simon: The usual + I'm sick. ☹️

Grace: Do you need some help?

Simon: I don't want to trouble anybody.

Grace: Ummm. Who is "anybody?" Your concerned lovelady is worried! I'm coming over.

Simon: You don't have to do that. I need you to feel safe.

Grace: Are you contagious?

Simon: It's an infection. But… I meant because of therapy…

Grace: It's passed. I miss you, Fool.

Simon: 🥺 I've been miserable.

.

That happened from time to time. They'd be flourishing. They'd be fine. Then, they'd be frustrated and need to give each other a little room (technically, it was almost always Grace), as Simon really did seem as though he was willing to go through anything just to make sure he was always near her. Sometimes that meant going through time apart from her. But they didn't put their relationship on hold. Whenever they were taking space it was literally just that. Going to their own homes for a little bit until everybody was comfortable again.

By May, Hazel's 11th birthday, they threw the party at Simon's house. That June, Grace's album came out. That July, Mrs. Monroe said that she was looking for a surrogate, so that she and Mr. Monroe could try again at another child. Simon's 24th birthday, he announced that a major studio made a deal with him for the Book of Esmoroth. By Grace's 24th, the Monroes had found their surrogate. That Halloween, Simon and Hazel had dressed as some characters from some sci fi or fantasy world of theirs and Grace was dressed down, in a hoodie and some yoga pants with her fro pulled forward. Because, she was always dressing up and having to look amazing. Halloween was a day that she dressed up by not dressing up at all. Four days later, Simon's dad called to tell him that his mother had "Gone to be with the Lord."

Simon didn't want to go back to her services if Grace wasn't going to be with him. So, her parents kept Hazel while she went along for emotional support… and Simon needed more than he thought he would for losing his mom..

She was "dead to him" long ago. Even in her last days, it was like staring at a corpse that was making groaning noises. She'd lived past when they thought, but she never actually told Simon that she forgave him, and people's insistence on saying that now Faith and Hope were together just made him furious.

He took a leave of absence from work and saw the grief counselor a little more frequently. Grace made recipes she had bookmarked, hoping that might make him feel better on the home front. He wasn't coming out of the house, so she and Hazel spent Thanksgiving week at his.

Hazel wondered, "Are you going to be well enough to cook for Thanksgiving? You might not remember, but you said that you'd make turducken… if you don't… Grace will try… three birds will have died in vain…" Simon snorted and tousled her hair. "She's really worried about you."

"I'm trying really hard to get better for you two…"

"No. That's not what you need to be doing. You need to be trying to get better for you."

"My therapist has told me that before."

"And what? You pay him to not listen to him?"

Simon shook his head, "I don't understand why I'm so sad. She was a bad person who was bad to me. She hurt me and made me as bad as her, maybe worse. Why would I care that she's gone?"

"It doesn't matter why. You do, and that's gotta be okay, because you obviously can't control it. Let yourself feel whatever you need to and try to get better for you. In the meantime, I wasn't playing about that turducken. You… can't let Grace try to take on something like that. She just started making edible food like… this year…"

He cackled and Grace peeked in, "Hey Ho Whoa! Is my loveman feeling better?" He caught her eye and forced a smile. She knew it was fake, but it was the first he'd tried in weeks, so she felt better. Simon forced himself into the kitchen that week to make Thanksgiving happen. Grace and Hazel followed whatever instructions he gave for additional help, and after he was actually up and about making himself useful and spending time with his favorite two people, he felt better too.

This year, he was thankful for another year with them… "Oh God… I let our first anniversary slip by!"

"Simon… I don't know what day that was even."

"November 5th," Simon said. "Because that remember, remember the 5th of November rhyme was in my head…"

"Ohhhh." Grace winced and she bit her lip. "I mean… it makes sense you forgot… the day started with your mom…" Simon frowned. That was the same day?

"SHE. RUINS. EVERYTHING!" he roared. Hazel squealed and fell to the floor. Simon got up and stormed out of the back door. Grace heard him screaming and hitting things and it had been a really long time since he did anything like that. Hazel was crying… so she wasn't a turtle. Grace helped her up and brought her to her room then went to check on Simon.

He was bound to snap, the way that he had been holding everything in all month. He was pacing and she stayed on the porch and observed. "Simon?"

He shook his head, "No. No, I'm not coming back inside like this. "She just… with her last breath had to take something else away from me…"

"She took nothing but her last breath, Si."

"That day can't be special without me having to think about her dying!"

Grace came down off the porch, "That day can be whatever we say it is, because we're still here. She's dead. Her power should be gone, Simon." She offered a smile, then asked, "Did I ever tell you about the first ceremony that Hazel and I ever attended together?" She explained meeting Hazel, and the way that she put everything to rest for her… "I think one of the main reasons that you can't get past this is because you felt like you were supposed to be giving her tribute. You felt like because you were sad and morning that that meant that you had to pay your respects. But when you tried you didn't find any. That's okay Simon. You don't have to pay respects. You could simply send her off with your truth. Whatever that is you've got to face it. you can't bottle everything in and then just explode like that in front of Hazel. She was terrified."

He looked guilty and sad as he rushed back in to apologize. Hazel took it well. And when he mentioned that ceremony of theirs, Hazel and Grace went back outside with him so that he could have his own. It was mostly accusations, frustrations, and some yelling… but he got it all off of his chest, the way that couldn't be done at a proper funeral. After that, he honestly and truly started feeling like his good self again.

By Christmas, as was hoped the previous year, Grace still had him in her life. They did Christmas at his house that year.

Next

[snowflake-of-destruction]

Haynus grass is greener

Very little actual Haynus, mentions of everything else under the sun except some of the ones this au was originally created for. Typing this directly into an ask response was a Mistake 

Save the date, the card pressed into Hayner's hands demanded in curling script overlaying a photo of Ventus with a dark haired woman in his arms. Their foreheads are pressed together and eyes are scrunched closed--tightly so they get creases at the edges that imply smile lines, a calculated gesture--but they still somehow look at peace despite how clear it is that they are posed and his wide smile is strained, possible from effort of keeping his fiancée lifted at the best angle for the photo for however long the photograph needs to set up shots when Ventus isn't used to lifting anything heavier than the brown leather man purse ("It's called a satchel, Hayner. Half my colleagues carry them.") he insists on carrying around even when he visits Hayner on the field, possibly from other reasons. They look happy. Hayner feels a tightness in his throat, so he turns the card over. 

SAVE THE DATE the card commands once more when turned, imperative not leaving Hayner a choice, and gives more information. 

Months away. He has time. 

Time for what he doesn't know.

"She's pretty," Hayner says, hoping casual compliments make up for a bitter tone that would have made him cringe if he had less discipline. He sounds like a jealous teenager. 

He should have said congratulations. You were supposed to say congratulations in these situations. Why did he remember something so basic so late? He can't say congratulations now it's not the first thing out of his mouth, or it's clear he's forcing the nicety.

"Xion's gorgeous," Ventus says her name like a love confession, enamored and oblivious to all else as he smiles at the photo on his desk--a new fixture in the office but an older picture-- that shows the same woman, much younger, clad in a blue and white striped bikini and holding a large blue sunhat on her head with one arm, sat on his lap. Ventus's smile is more carefree here, though the younger Ventus in the photo isn't looking at Xion but staring into the eyes of the boy that sits beside him, bronzed, muscled, and blue eyed with longish brown hair falling into his eyes. His mouth is slightly open so he may have said something just before the picture was snapped. A conversation would explain why Ventus's attention is distracted and the other man is paying no mind to the blue haired girl in the red and white beach sarong that matches the board shorts he's wearing with arms around his neck and cheek pressed to his.

The desk decoration would seem to indicate Ventus and Xion have been together for years, their relationship an immoveable constant even if they did take their time deciding to make commitment official, but Hayner knows better. 

He was left at the altar. The first piece of gossip Hayner had ever learned about Ventus at a faculty party a few years ago that had bored him until the blonde had walked into the room.  Ventus was called poor thing and brave for coming out, so it had been recent then. Hayner had introduced himself, made small talk, but any flirtation was an accident of natural charm. Hayner respected the relationship mourning period. They exchanged numbers, but it was to talk about Doctor Who and Legends of Tomorrow.  He wouldn't take advantage.  There wouldn't be whispers at the next party about how he'd swooped in while Ventus was vulnerable. Besides, when he'd put out a few  casual feelers with other party guests asking whether Ventus's mysterious would-be spouse with poor decision making skills had been a man or a woman the answer had been  disappointing, though he didn't presume that was the final word on Ventus's tastes. A guy could hope at least.

Hope wasn't unfounded as it turned out, but not everyone cared as much about gossip and appearances as Hayner did apparently.  Hayner waited three days to text Ven asking his opinion on his favorite Who companion. Ventus apologized when it took him a few hours to respond. He was out on a date. Vanitas said hi.

Vanitas was a mistake. For anyone at any time. Hayner should know. He struggled over how to tell Ventus without sounding too jealous or too knowledgeable, but Ventus learned quickly enough on his own. The lesson just didn't seem to stick with him. Ventus and Vanitas were on and off again for long stretches of time, hardly ever casual whether they were together or apart, during which Hayner played the role of sympathetic friend and confidante as he and Ventus grew closer. He'd given boyfriend advice and questioned  life decisions that had led to him being a romantic comedy trope, but he hadn't just been biding his time until he won in the end. Not just that. He enjoyed Ventus's company, and he wouldn't ask more than pizza nights, ballgames, and talks about how they didn't understand memes today or even back in their own day, and so were probably never cool. 

Then Vanitas left for a long weekend and came back with a wife. It should have ended the games. Instead, Hayner hadn't even had time to process the news brought to him by Ventus shoving his phone in his face as he elbowed his way through his front door into his living room, or scroll through the blurry, poorly composed pictures Vanitas had sent of him and a pretty, vaguely familiar redhead, standing in front of the Bellagio, posing with a white tiger, in what was only vaguely recognizable as a wedding chapel with what appeared to be a young Tina Turner wearing a balloon crown that matched the ones they were donning for that particular picture, and, in the final photo, flashing matching rings, before Ventus had tacked on, "So, then, I slept with my ex, which made me feel even worse. We're not getting back together...I don't think. It was more...I don't know what it was. I want to say solace, but I think it's revenge. I still want revenge."

Hayner forced out a few comforting words, soothed Ven that it couldn't be revenge. He was too good a person to use others like that, even if he had the thoughts. He'd been confused and hurt. It was understandable. Ventus should have come to him, not to his ex. 

Ventus had started to explain how he'd ended up with his ex, something about visiting his brother and finding the ex at Roxas's house, which should have raised even more red flags, but Ventus switched the subject halfway through and asked, "If I had come to you, do you think the night would have gone much differently?" too coy and composed to completely jive with the distressed image of a few minutes prior.

Over breakfast the next morning, they'd had a much more productive talk about Ventus's issues with both Vanitas and Xion, and what patterns needed to be broken before Ventus attempted any serious connection with someone new. Hayner had made it clear he didn't mind giving Ventus time and space to sort himself out. A little more waiting wouldn't hurt. A year of being single was what Ventus suggested for himself. 

Apparently, Ventus had decided he wanted to make the same mistake twice with the girl who had left him at the altar, and this had to be where Hayner drew a line.

"You'll come, right?" The faith in Ventus's eyes made him physically ill.

" 'Course." He never had a chance.

There were plays worth of monologues Hayner wanted to make, but words cut his tongue and the roof of his mouth like shards of glass when he tried to force them out.

A polite, perfunctory knock on the frame of the open door to announce that Ventus had another visitor, probably one more appropriate for his office hours, saved Hayner from his struggle. High hemline, pigtails, a parody of a cliche that asked, "Professor, is this a bad time? I need to talk to you about my last essay."  Hayner excused himself before the student could say she couldn't afford the bad grade Ventus had given her and she'd do anything to raise it. At least that's what Hayner uncharitably assumed the dialogue would be. 

Later, Hayner would be shown a picture of Strelizia Wynn and swear he didn't know her personally but he recognized her face and he'd seen her with Ventus on that day.

Both Ventus and Hayner ended up hurt by the fact Hayner hadn't walked away sooner.

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

sk8 au week - day 2: royalty and soulmates

reki kyan was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he had yet to meet his soulmate. reki has heard the whispers of the people in the town about people who don’t fine their soulmates. it’s not that he didn’t have one -he did, for your information, thank you very much- but because reki was from a royal family, and therefore a prince, he was to be married off and did not have the luxury of being with his soulmate. unless his soulmate was from another royal family, but reki had seen where his red string lead: straight into the center of the town below. so no such luck for another noble as his soulmate.

reki’s mother had tried to let him build friendships and hopefully relationships with the other royal children around his age, but reki had dreams about meeting his soulmate and never developed anything more than friendship with the other royals.

reki stared at his red string, eyes tracing its path down into the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. sometimes when he sleep he caught glimpses of a tall, pale, slender figure and bright blue eyes. reki wondered what those eyes would look like mere inches from his own.

suddenly a book smacked into the back of reki’s head, startling him from his daydream.

“what the fuck-“ reki’s head whipped around.

“hey there slime.” said a voice.

reki groaned at the sight of the boy sitting atop his desk.

“hello miya.” he grumbled.

“what’re you looking at?” the young prince asked, a catlike smirk breaking out on his face.

“nothing,” reki said pushing himself up and walking over to miya.

“so is your mom still making you meet that prince for dinner tonight?” miya hummed as he twirled a pen in his hands.

reki’s mother was much more kind with her son and his romantic predicament, compared to reki’s father who was ready to married his son off without a meeting between the spouses. but after his father ran away with the sevrant girl he impregnated no one stuck to his old rules.

“yes, but i have a plan to escape and i need your help.” reki said placing his hands on miya’s shoulders.

“i’m all ears,” miya said leaning forward as if reki’s mother was outside the door and eavesdropping this very moment.

“ok so i need you to mix up joe and shadow’s schedules so they’re both in the great hall at the same time. we cant have a fancy dinner set up if the cook and florist are in there at the same time now can we?”

“i like what i’m hearing.”

“and then i need you and koyomi to either distract the stable hand while sneak through the barn.”

“done. is that all you need?”

“yep. the rest is up to me. joe accidentally let it slip that his soulmate is the craftsman in town and that he sneaks out at the exit

behind the greenhouses to meet him. so thanks to joe i’ve got my escape route all planned.”

“well look at this, prince reki ditching the feast planned just for him. who would have thought?” miya asked with a laugh.

“well after how the last dinner ended it’s not that surprising.” reki said with a shudder as he remembered the glazed goat falling onto the poor princess who was just looking for a potential marriage partner.

miya let out snicker at the memory. “well now that you say that...”

“anyways i have to hurry if i wanna make it before my mom sends a servant to make sure i’m ready.”

“oh right right let’s go. i’ll go get koyomi and head to the stables. see you soon.” and with a wink miya slipped out the door and was gone. grabbing a cloak from his bed, reki fastened the clasp and dashed out the room after miya.

he was sick of all this arranged marriage bullshit, he was sick of it all. reki just wanted to meet his soulmate and fall in love. he knew his thoughts were selfish though. he was the eldest of the four kyan children and his mom was doing her best to rule a kingdom by herself, so by default his marriage was bound to be political. it was very unlikely he would end up with his soulmate.

and so that’s why reki was going to meet his soulmate tonight. he would meet them and apologize for being a lousy soulmate before heading back to the castle to meet the prince who he was supposed to be dinning with.

for most of reki’s life he soulmate had lead to a place up in the snowy mountains. but within the past few years the string moved into the town below the castle reki lived in. just like fate his soulmate moved to his home town. but it was someone else’s fate, not his. so reki made up his mind weeks ago: meet his soulmate, apologize, then finally agree to a political marriage. his plan would take away his curiously about his soulmate, it would hopefully lessen his guilt about not being able to be with said soulmate, and it would make his mom happy. so why didn’t he like what he was about to do?

ignoring the heavy feeling in his stomach reki pushed on. running quietly through the halls reki hid behind stone pillars and over large plant pots when he needed too. finally reaching the barn reki slipped into there to see miya and koyomi talking away with the stable hand over a loaf of bread and some pieces of cheese.

slipping past the trio and out into the courtyard beyond reki doesn’t make a noise. he holds his breath all the way to the green house, and doesn’t let it out until he’s well into the tunnel behind it. some time ago a tunnel was dug in the large wall protecting the castle, the entrance was hidden by vines on both sides. the cave was known only to a select few.

as reki hurried through the cave he began to think back to some of his earlier suitors. he remembers his best friend who he could have seen himself marrying despite not being soulmates. but his friend got sick and went back to his kingdom and reki never heard from him again.

but tonight was about his soulmate. so reki trudged on, squinting for the cave opening.

before long the prince was stumbling out of the vines and onto the street. luckily it was mostly empty. empty except for a tall man with long pink hair and glasses.

at the sound of someone falling through the leaves he looked up but seemed shocked to see a teenager.

“your not kojiro.” the stranger blurted.

“and your not- actually i wasn’t waiting for anyone and i have no idea who you are...or who kojiro is.”

the man stared at reki for a minute before recognition flashed in his eyes.

“prince reki! what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“i um...well you see-“ but reki was cut off by a rustling behind the vines and a large figure falling out of said vines.

“kaoru you will never believe the day i had...” joe trailed off, eyes catching sight of a panicked reki and surprised kaoru.

“joe?” reki blurted at the same time joe said “reki?”

the two stared at each other before reki made a run for it.

but joe caught him by his hood so reki didn’t get far.

“kid what the hell are you doing here?” joe said apparently forgetting all formalities one should talk to their prince with.

“not of your business! and i could ask you the same!” reki yelled as he struggled to get free from joe’s grip.

“i’m meeting my soulmate. and i’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here?”

reki sagged, giving up the struggle. “same here,”

“you’re meeting your soulmate?” kaoru asked.

“yes, what about it?” reki said crossing his arms. it had all gone so good until now.

“aren’t you supposed to be in a arranged marriage?”

“yes so i’m going to meet my soulmate and apologize before agreeing to an arranged marriage.”

“what?” joe said, surprise causing him to loosen his grip. taking the chance reki dashed away. ignoring the yells behind him reki

kept on running. nothing can stop me now, reki thought, i’ve come this far.

eyeing his string, reki ran through the street watching it get tighter and tighter. reki was too focused on the string that he didn’t see the boy in front of himself until it was too late.

the boys slammed into each other hard, the medicinal products in the other boy’s hands clattering to the ground.

“oh shit sorry-“

“sorry-“

they both spoke at the same time causing the boys to look up at each other abruptly. the boy had bright blue hair that went down past his ears. he was tall and lanky, his skin almost as pale as snow. bright blue eyes that reki had sworn he had seen before. but when reki’s gaze meet the boys hands, his heart stopped. a thin red string connecting reki’s own finger to this mystery boy’s, hung in the air. a red string of fate; a soulmate string. this boy was his soulmate.

eyes snapping back to the bright blue ones reki knew his soulmate saw it too.

“well shit.” reki blurted and the boy began to laugh. it was a sweet noise, like the chime of heavenly bells. and so reki began to laugh too.

“well i guess your my soulmate. that makes this search a lot easier then.” standing up and reaching out a hand to his soulmate, reki began to speak. “so you probably know who i am and therefore i can’t marry you -or be with you quite frankly- and i’m very sorry for that and it’s selfish of me but i have the responsibility of the kingdom on my shoulders and i can’t fail my people.”

“what? ‘kingdom’? what are you talking about?” the boys blank stare bored into reki.

“...i’m the prince. and i’m going to be king someday. and as much i want to be with my soulmate -you-, i have to be responsible for my people -which includes you-.”

realization dawned on his face. “ooh, i see.”

“and honestly i don’t care about the difference of ‘rank’ between noble and townsfolk but other royalty do.”

“well my moms a doctor if that means anything.”

“a prominent roll indeed but unfortunately not enough for the in-law of a prince. well not in my eyes, but in the eyes of others.”

the boy hummed in though. “well she was the queen of the kingdom in the mountains before my father fell to illness and some corrupt politician overthrew her and had us banished. do that mean anything?”

“you- you mean you were a prince?”

the boy nods.

“oh my god. oh my god! this may just work then! i may be able to be with my soulmate and still have a marriage that pleases the royal court!” reki’s eyes light up in happiness. “that’s only if you do want to be with me i mean.” he added.

“well you’re my soulmate, are you not? so we’re meant to be together, no?”

“well yes of course. but i wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it and all...”

“of course reki.” the boy said sweetly while reaching out and clasping reki’s hands in his own.

reki almost melted at the use of his given name spoken by his soulmate.

“oh wait can i call you that? is that ok?”

all reki could do was dumbly nod.

“my names langa by the way.”

“langa,” reki said testing out the way the name felt on his tongue. “i like it!” he smiled and watched as langa’s face turned red.

“well should we head to the castle or something to relay the news?” langa asked, turning to reki.

“hmmm i think we can wait a minute. wanna show me around the town?”

“it would be my honor.”

and so the two boys disappeared into the lively bustle of the town as the laughed away and held each other’s hand like a lifeline.

~ ~ ~

@sk8-au-week

[fae-fire]

Yehn’li Khete (LFRP)

basics ––––

REAL NAME: Yalvus Lux Ilvanus, Suffragium Tertius Architectus Magiteci ALIAS: Yehn’li Khete. Mostly goes by just Yehn. Yehn’li or Mr. Khete is also accessible. AGE: Early 30s, looks deceptively a bit younger RACE: Keeper Miqo’te GENDER: Male, He/Them SEXUALITY: Pansexual MARITAL STATUS: Single  SERVER: Balmung/Mateus

physical appearance ––––

HAIR: A light reddish-brown. Almost strawberry blond. His hair extends past their shoulders and some chunks are longer than others since he mostly just cuts it himself. EYES: His right eye is black with a permanently dilated pupil from an injury in an explosion. His left eye is a bright green-blue. HEIGHT: 5′6″ BUILD: Small frame, lanky with more of a lean cut to him. He isn’t weak though as he’s dedicated the last five years or so of his life to metal working and crafting, so he’s got quite a bit of lean muscle. More of a runner’s body than a warrior’s though. DISTINGUISHING MARKS: His left leg is a magitek prosthetic. He has a small scar on his cheek from the same accident. His foot tends to be dirty with soot or just...dirt from walking around barefoot. There is a Garlean brand-like tattoo on his back over his right shoulder blade. It appears to have been cut with a knife to try and remove most of it so there’s a lot of scar tissue there. COMMON ACCESSORIES: Goggles on his head. A few tools laid out in what could look like a surgeon’s pack...even though he’s an engineer. 

personal –––-

PROFESSION: Former scientist for Garlemald. From a conscript family, he took on a Garlean name as he gained more respect in the medical field. He worked mostly on neurological-based technology. He still has a list of every test subject and what he had done to them. Many of his experiments were just for fun. He is now...retired. Away from Garlemald as he was in it for himself, not the Empire as a whole and didn’t care for their plans in the long run. He now is a tinkerer of random things, takes on odd jobs, fixes magitek prosthetics, and is “totally clean” of the criminal life...sometimes.  HOBBIES: Crafting and gathering junk to sell. Explosives. LANGUAGES: Common. I am unaware if Garlemald has its own language but he’d know that if it does. Bits and pieces of Hingan from hiding out in Kugane. RESIDENCE: He has two shops--one in Limsa and one in Kugane. The Kugane  one is safer due to the rules around weapons so he’s most likely there. FEARS: Being sent back to Garlemald, the Empire killing him, the alliance arresting and/or killing him, nutkins

relationships –––-

SPOUSE: None. CHILDREN: None. PARENTS: Birth parents are (probably) alive, but not of consequence SIBLINGS: None. OTHERS: None.

traits –––-

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded /open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / in between

faithful / unfaithful / in between

additional information –––-

SMOKING HABIT:

never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS:

never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL:

never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

RP HOOKS –––-

THE MOTHERLAND: Garleans and ex-pats may have heard of him. Whether you need an ally in an unfamiliar land (though one that may drive you a bit mad) or are chasing down a deserter, there’s plenty of routes to choose from.

WANTED: Got an itching for justice against a known criminal? Could be an open route there though I’d have to discuss for pre-established knowledge since god modding and all that cool stuff. But definitely bring it up if you’re interested in that. 

MAGITEK: In need of a magitek prosthetic tune up? Some illegal weaponry? He’s your guy. Though a lot of his product is unstable since a lot of is made from blackmarket parts and some of the Ceruleum is refined by himself...but that’s irrelevant! You’ll get a good bargain! 

I’M CLEAN NOW...UNLESS?: Yehn will swear up the ass that he’s not part of that criminal life anymore. Though who is he kidding? The man is addicted to chaos, murder and explosions and it’s not that difficult to get him to tip his hand. He still has his hands in a lot of pies and may prove to be a good criminal contact. Or enemy.

TO THE SKIES OF DRAVANIA: My main RP is focused around Sky Pirates and Yehn becoming an airship engineer. If you are also a sky pirate, that may be a useful avenue for adventure. Or at least fixing your engine... You may find him around Ishgard and Dravania as well.

Extended Background Details––––

I probably forgot something but Yehn is an ex-scientist based around studying the body and has a laundry list of lives he has taken. He left the empire to seek a life of his own since the Empire didn’t line up with what he wanted and he felt stifled by the professional environment he was in. It’s been around five years since he left and in that time he has gotten into some trouble here and there but keeps trying to quit his ways, though he really does love his work around the body and taking things apart. He focuses most of that energy into making random things to sell, and has used his knowledge around magitek and science to go more towards an engineering route and live the good-guy life, but self sabotage is a thing. He also kinda loves explosives and did blow his own leg off... Though he’ll lament about how he lost it in the war. The story changes every time. He’s pretty guarded about who and what he is and comes off as lazy and bemused.

In any case, this is a fairly dark character overall and this is kind of a warning to explain that. My OOC values and views don’t align with my character’s and he’s still very much a work in progress alongside my partner’s character. 

what I’m looking for ––––

Anything really, though this is more of a profile post than actually LOOKING for new RP since I am busy IRL. I’d like to delve in to some plot based rp a bit more, make some connections, friends, enemies, contacts. I’m open to head canons and plotting, but I am not open for RP at the moment unless you can handle slow discord replies because of working from home with the pandemic. But I try... I don’t really RP in game though. I stick to discord because I really don’t have the time to sit in game and RP anymore.

oocly, I am ––––

A nerd who Rps? Mostly darker RP that gets in on mature themes, etc.

I have a 9-5 job, pacific time (currently working from) and I run and exercise regularly and that takes priority for me. Replies from me won’t be instant.

I am a multi-paragraph RPer. I will usually match who I am RPing with, but I DO type a lot. You have been warned!! I don’t do one-line RP. If that is your style and you are annoyed by multiple paragraphs, I may not be the right partner for you.  

I do a lot of darker RP with a lot of questionable themes. I am not the person to go to for tavern RP and constant casual RP. While Yehn can be social, I’m not really looking for happy go lucky small talk, if that makes sense. It doesn’t really fit the character. 

My rules for RP are still being made, but you can call me Rae. Pronouns are He/They. 

you can contact me via ––

Tumblr DM. Discord upon request. Contacting me in game is not a good idea probably since I’m either afk or offline a lot.

@crystalxivrp @balmungrp @mooglemeet @ffxiv-crystal-rp​

[vixeyfoxworth]

this ain't for the best my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me.

we can't make any promises now can we, babe? but you can make me a drink

BASICS

Name: Victoria Grace Foxworth Nicknames/Alias: Vixey, Vix, occasionally Tori. She really hates being called Vicky and though she’s nice about it if it happens she does address it and ask if they not call her that. Face Claim: Emma Stone Age: Twenty-nine Gender/pronouns: Cis woman / she/her Sexuality: Pansexual. Vixey’s never really felt like she develops feelings based on gender, it’s always based on the human and their connection and character. Date/Place of Birth: June 6th / New York City Currently:  Avonnola Occupation: Actress, previously performing on Broadway

HISTORY

Childhood/Family Life: Vixey grew up in an incredibly loving and supportive home. Her father’s a veterinarian, primarily serving exotic animals, while her mother, a veterinarian primarily serving farm and domestic animals. Her father spent a few years working around the world before her parents met and then after they met they were able to do a bit of traveling thanks to his job. From day one Vixey was taught to love and care for animals always. She was raised vegetarian, using locally sourced animal products. Growing up Vixey thought her parents may push her to pursue their dreams for her but to her surprise they were fully supportive of her little girl as she pursued choir and the theatre clubs in school. From a young age Victoria loved to perform, commanding a room when she walked in without effort, sometimes due to her striking red hair, but most of the time it came naturally thanks to her personality. Due to her parent’s jobs, and her dad eventually opening his own practice, Vixey’s always lived a very comfortable life. Though Vixey was born in New York City, her parents are both from small towns in Tennessee and made sure to expose Vixey to more than just the fast paced city life.  Education: In high school Victoria was a big of a teacher’s pet. She got her undergraduate degree in theatre performance and went on to get her MFA in acting and most of the time questions if she even needs it. Accomplishments: Pursuing her dream of becoming an actress and performing on Broadway. Being nominated for a Tony Award and being nominated and winning various other drama related awards. Completing her master’s degree as that was one of the biggest headaches of her life. Regrets: Vixey isn’t very big on actively regretting things, mostly because she knows if she does she’ll dwell on things and it’ll only make her feel worse. She tends to be incredibly impulsive and can also be jealous so she doesn’t like to give herself time to think too much about actions. She certainly regrets things she’s said to people in the past, especially when she’s been upset. Secrets: tbd.

PERSONALITY

Positives/Virtues/Skills: She’s kind, loving, empathetic, a team player, self-confident, a good listener, and very efficient when it comes to completing a task. Victoria learns fast, she’s a visual learner and loves to collaborate with others. One of her favorite things about performing on stage is that yes, it’s important to pour everything you can into your character for yourself but also for the sake of the show. Unless it’s a one woman show, you’re never truly alone on stage - and even then you’ve got a tech crew truly making you shine. Vixey’s always been very complimentary of her off stage coworkers. She’s reliable in a way but also unreliable in others. If you want someone to help you, she’s your girl, but if you want to go out on the town with someone who will stick by your side the whole night no matter what, she’s probably not because she’s been known to disappear for the night with a partner or with new friends she’s made.

Flaws/Weaknesses/Negatives: Vixey can be jealous and is often stubborn, wanting to make decisions and do things on her own terms, and it isn’t always to her benefit or the benefit of others. Though she can be patient, she tends to have a short fuse and can go off about little things, though she tries to apologize and own up to her mistakes in that regard and has gotten better. She tends to act impulsively, especially when it comes to somewhat non-life altering decisions. Vixey knows if she thinks too long about something she’ll overthink it so she tends to act without thinking. She’s working on it but it still happens.

Personality Type:

ESFP - Entertainer

Likes & Dislikes:

Vixey’s favorite color is red, she loves anything that sparkles, her music taste varies on the day, she’ll listen to almost everything. She took dance classes as a kid and kept up with them through college. She loved playing the piano as a kid and though she doesn’t play anymore she could if she had to. She loves shopping and thanks to her comfortable life has never really had to worry about treating herself every now and then. She’s not necessarily one for designer brands, unless it’s for a special event or she finds them at a discount. Vixey loved a good bargain but often comes across as materialistic thanks to her hobby. She actually doesn’t like going into designer stores, they feel more like a museum than a store to her. She likes to pick up and try things on before buying them and she doesn’t feel super comfortable doing that in those stores. She likes to be in control of a situation, she’s not necessarily bossy and she doesn’t always like to be in charge or in a leadership position but she definitely likes to be in control of her own thing. She loves plants and comfy beds and naps in the afternoon. She hates phone calls and rude comments on her instagram. 

Dreams/Ambitions:

She’s already achieved her dream of becoming an actress and she only hopes to continue that. She’d love to open her own dance studio someday to help others pursue their own dreams. She figures in another life she’d work in a bookshop or library but she isn’t so sure her own need to constantly have something to do would serve her well in a job like that.

Fears:

Abandonment or being left out. As an only child Victoria had a difficult time connecting with other kids right away until her parents finally enrolled her into a preschool program. That didn’t last long, though and it wasn’t until Vixey was in school that she finally had proper interaction. She was often left out of games early on and a lot of kids made fun of her hair, saying he looked like a fire engine but eventually she just focused on the fire part. Later when she began to date she dated.. a lot, but was either left or left before she could be left.

RELATIONSHIPS

Parents: Katherine and Jeff Foxworth Siblings: Victoria is an only child. Children: None, and though she may not admit it, she wouldn’t mind having a big family someday. Spouse: n/a Current Partner: tbd Ex-Partners: tbd Friends: tbd! message me for wanted connections :) Enemies: tbd! message me for wanted connections :)

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

Build: 5′6″, slender, loves to wear heels to appear taller than she is, especially around men who are taller than her. Hair Colour: Red Eye Colour: Hazel Green Distinguishing Marks: Victoria has a tattoo on her left side just under her breast, two butterflies, that she got on a whim after college.