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billthedrake · 8 days ago

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LINEAGE (PART FIVE)

This chapter riffs on Peterbilt's and A4F's ideas. Here's hoping imitation is the best flattery.

Braden and I never took vacations for just us. It was always family trips with our kids. Two weeks at the beach in summer, and camping trips when the boys got older. Brade and I would each have a trip with Junior for one-on-one time with our eldest, and together we took Evan and Keith on an amusement park trip while Junior was at golf camp.

But it was me and Brade's 15th marriage anniversary, and we realized we'd never done the whole wedding ceremony. For us, incest marriage was a private thing, by necessity but also because my son and I had each other regardless of our love was sanctioned or not.

We were celebrating now with a stay down at a Caribbean resort. The Connors men were looking after our sons, and I told my work that any urgent matters could wait.

I don't think we realized how much we needed this. Time to reconnect, to rekindle that spark in the relationship. Braden and I had a good, healthy marriage, and we made a regular sex life a priority, but it could be tough to keep the romance while raising three boys. Parenting was a full-time job and involved a lot of routine.

I could sense Braden's eyes on me that first day. We'd had a quickie as soon as we'd checked in to our room. A hot missionary fuck. Braden knew I craved variety in bed and loved doing different positions. But Brade craved seeing my face and making out as we mated. So usually it was Brade's way. Not that I was complaining.

As I pulled on my swim trunks over my sated, soft genitals, I could see my son's eyes on me as he stepped back into the room after taking a post-fuck piss.

"Fuck, Dad... you still got it going at 52."

I paused and puffed out my chest a little. I'd been self-conscious about aging and all the gray hairs coming in. But the last few years I'd really hit the gym. I'd never match Braden's muscle perfection, but I wanted to fine tune the middle aged build I had.

"I won't lie, son, sometimes I worry about getting too old for you."

Braden was still naked, his hunky brawn on full display as he stepped up to me. "Jesus, Dad, you know I'm wired for you. For my father."

We'd just gotten off but were still chubbed. I could see my son's thick meat swing stiffly. I loved how he's shaved smooth for the trip, he looked like a porn model. His hands reached forward and felt up my chest. "The silver fur coming in is way fucking hot, sir..."

We kissed, more softly than just now. "Oh buddy..." I muttered.

Braden cocked his sexy grin. He was in his mid-30s now and was all man, but still seemed young to me. "I'm serious, Dad, you're as hot as you've ever been... I can see why Junior's so crushed out on you."

I gulped and pulled back, almost instinctively. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You got to notice, right? He's as into you as I was at that age. Maybe even more so."

"Brade..." I admonished.

Braden patted my bare arm in an affectionate way. "Come on, Dad, I know you're not gonna do anything inappropriate."

"No, I'm not," I replied curtly. "Besides, I don't think of Junior in that way."

Braden rolled his eyes and stepped away. He dug out the skimpier speedo he had in his suitcase. I wasn't sure if I was actually mad at him, but I knew I couldn't stay mad as I watched his thick muscled body fill out that swimsuit.

"Ready to hit the beach?" I asked in an are-we-OK kind of tone.

"Yep," Braden said.

The water was warm and still refreshing. I slathered sunscreen on Braden's back once we got back to our towel and he returned the favor.

"Feels nice, son," I said, leaning into his strong hands.

I heard a chuckle. "Need to go back to the room, Dad?"

Brade was right, I could go again, already. But I shook my head. "It's tempting, but let's save it, OK?"

"We got all week, Dad, right?"

"That we do."

We each lay on our towel and I dozed a little. I woke to find Braden sitting up, looking out on the water. He looked over at me and smiled. "I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Sport," I said. "Sorry if I was short with you earlier."

Braden shrugged. "It's the reaction I expected, honestly."

"Yeah?" I didn't know what he meant by that.

"I know you pretty well, Dad. For what it's worth, I'm glad you're a stand up father... it's just, well, you can be oblivious sometimes. I felt you should know."

"About Junior?"

"The kid fucking idolizes you, Dad. Not that I blame him."

I sighed. "How do we handle this?"

Braden chuckled. "I figured you'd have some experience in that department."

"Please tell me I'm not gonna have a rebellious teen on my hands again," I said with a wink. Braden and I could talk seriously about the bumps in our familial dynamic, but we also joked about it.

That got a real laugh from my son. "Junior's a good kid, Dad. We'll see how the others turn out when they hit adolescence."

I got a little quiet. "I know we said three was enough, Brade... but... you ever think about having more?" I was nervous bringing it up even. But the idea had been in the back of my head for quite a while.

"All the fucking time, Dad," Braden said.

"Damn," I hissed. I was boning up in my swim trunks.

"Dad... you're 52 and in your prime... and I'm still fertile..."

I gulped and turned toward him. Braden could certainly see my hardon now. "How many kids is too many?"

"I dunno, Dad. I know you'll do the budget spreadsheet and be all practical. But I want another son with you. More than one."

I nodded. Then in my parental tone, I said. "Then I want you going off the pills."

"Done," Braden said, and I was rewarded with a huge smile on his face. It made me realize I was doing the right thing. We were doing the right thing.

"Back to the room?" I said, standing up from my towel. My hardon was obscene but I didn't care who on the beach saw it.

"I thought we were waiting," he teased, lazily scratching his pec like he was just relaxing on the beach.

"Fuck that, son. I need inside you."

We raced back to the air-conditioned quiet of our room. I thought nothing could be hotter than Brade in his fucking skimpy speedo, but seeing the lycra slide down his meaty buns and over his thick hamstrings had me leaking in my own trunks. I'd barely started to slide them down when my studly son bent over on the bed, spreading his legs for me. It was Braden in full heat, and I let out a grunt.

"God fucking damn, Sport, you need your daddy?" I fisted my meat to smear the precum on its length. If Round One was Brade's way, Round Two was gonna be Bill's treat.

"Please, sir..." he said, his masculine voice deep as it was needy. "I'm still loaded up from earlier, but I need that potent dad semen inside me. He looked back at me, horny and a little nervous. "Just add extra lube, Dad."

I picked up the bottle where we'd left it from earlier and slathered a good deal on. I got off on seeing my son eye it with awe. I tell ya, if you ever have a son that looks at your cock that way, you'll never get sick of it. "We gonna make another kid, Braden?" I asked. It had been a long while since we'd worked preg talk into sex. It was overdue.

"Uh uh... maybe two. You think your sperm is powerful enough to give me twins."

I was on him now, kicking apart his legs wider and angling my hips down. "Tell me if I got too hard, Sport."

"Fuck me, Dad," came the ready reply. "Put that bare father cock inside me... ooof!"

It was a quick entry, rough, but Brade's hole was loosened from earlier and we were both crazy horned. "Hot fucking fertile, son womb." I was fucking him, fucking Brade. Steady, deliberate thrusts.

"You're the stud, Dad.... first Junior... then Evan, and Keith. Gonna go for number four."

"You've given me amazing kids, Brade... and grandkids. Fuck!" I was glad we'd mated earlier, since no way would I be lasting more than a minute now otherwise.

Braden gripped the sheets and arched his back. Taking me, despite the roughness. "Making incest kids, Dad. Best of our DNA."

I pulled out and actually gave him a smack. OK, I was out of control, but Brade didn't object. "Up on the bed, kiddo," I growled. "All fours." I needed a better angle.

I stepped and back and rather than immediately do as I asked, my son slid down to taste my hard cock, slurping my own earlier seed of it. "Fuck, Dad... I can practically taste my next brother."

He gave my meat one last kiss then rose up.

I took it easier this time, enjoying the extended session. No worrying about our sons knocking on the bedroom door to interrupt us, no time we had to finish by to pick the littlest ones up from school or drive them to some little league game. No need to be quiet.

For the next two hours, Braden and I enjoyed pacing out this incest fuck, going hard then soft, fast and slow, me guiding my hot son in multiple positions on the bed. Until I finally pounded us both off into a simultaneous orgasm as he talked about what our fourth kid was gonna be like.

Everything about it was magical, but the topper was the grateful look on Braden's face as we lay sweaty and naked, side by side on the hotel bed.

"You know it's gonna be two or three weeks before I'm actually fertile," Brade said. He was all grown up and in his 30s, but there was something innocent and youthful in his face just then, like he was 18 all over again and I'd just taken his cherry. My prick jerked at that thought.

"I figured," I said. "Consider that a down payment for the actual conception fuck."

That got a laugh from my son. "Damn, Dad, if that's the down payment, I don't think I can survive the breed session."

"You'll do just great, Brade," I grinned, leaning forward to claim a kiss.

***

Day One was honeymoon style sex, Day Two was a lazy recovery day.

Day Three was a huge surprise though. Braden and I had gone on a snorkeling activity organized by the resort. These things can be awkward but we made small talk with a father and son from the Midwest. At one point Brade pulled me aside and whispered. "You can't keep your eyes of them, can you?" I started to object, but he added," It's OK dad, they're smoking hot, both of them."

That was an understatement. The father had blue eyes that sucked you in and a killer smile. He was maybe five years younger than me an a total DILF. Graying temples, pumped and toned muscle, body hair trimmed to a neat half inch length. And his son was a chip off the old block, a tall, muscled jock looking kid somewhere on the cusp of high school and college. I enjoyed looking at these guys and later, Brade and I enjoyed talking about them as we fucked.

"Who do you think is the top, Dad? Father or son?" Brade asked as I slow pumped him doggy on the hotel bed.

"Oh, Daddy's the top for sure," I hissed.

"Fuck yeah," Brade hissed, getting into the fantasy. "Hope he sends Eric off to college with an incest baby in his belly."

"Fuck, Brade!" I growled. The idea had me cumming inside my son. Braden wasn't far behind, either.

We dressed for dinner, then afterwards decided to enjoy the hotel pool.

"Beats winter back home," Brade said as we lazily swam around and treaded water.

"I'll say."

Braden treaded over and leaned to whisper. "I wish I could kiss you right here, sir."

"Me too, buddy," I croaked.

I had to get out of the water or I really would start making out with my son in public. Since this was not a gay resort, we'd made the decision to travel as father and son rather than as husbands. I was now regretting that decision.

"I'm going to get a drink... want one?"

Braden didn't drink much at home, but we were on vacation. "Oh, yeah, a margarita. Thanks, Dad."

When I got back to the pool area with our drinks, Braden was in the whirlpool area.

"To vacation, Sport," I said clinking his plastic cup with mine.

"Happy anniversary, Dad," Brade whispered.

"Damn," I hissed.

"What?" Braden asked, concerned I was upset he'd said it in public.

I leaned in. "You just gave your dad a boner, that's what."

Braden smiled and leaned back in the bubbles. "You're giving me one now, too."

God, we were going to get in trouble here, for sure.

Only a booming voice interrupted the sexual thoughts getting out of controle. "Bill! Braden!" There was Doug Newcomb, the daddy from the snorkeling outing, in boardshorts, flip flops and a towel over his shoulder. Two paces behind him was his football jock son. "Mind if we join you?"

I had a moment of surprise then recovered my senses. "Please do."

I watched the Newcomb men toss their towels down and kick off their flip flops. "I would say it's a nice night," Doug said, "but who am I kidding? Every night is frickin paradise here."

It was weird to see the son be so quiet when the dad was so talkative, but I enjoyed getting a good view of his muscle... bulky but not overly beefy. Eric Newcomb may be young, but he was jacked, even more than Braden was at that age.

I felt self conscious, but I could see Brade's attention on both these guys as we all made small talk. Turns out Doug was an airline pilot, and Eric was a graduating high school senior who'd committed to play football at Nebraska.

"This is kind of his celebration trip," the father said, playfully mussing his jock son's hair. "I won't like that we wanted him to stay in state, but Nebraska's a better team, and I'm super proud of him."

I wondered if there was a Mrs. Newcomb but didn't see a wedding band on the father's left hand.

Normally quiet Eric spoke up. "The Gophers suck, Dad. You know that."

Doug shrugged, like he was conceding a sore point. He looked at me and Brade. "At least the kid's a Vikings fan."

It felt like we were witnessing a conversation they'd had many times. A ritual to keep from talking about the thing they wanted to talk about. Or maybe my imagination was getting away from me.

After the wine with dinner and the margarita, I was feeling a gentle buzz and maybe my inhibitions were down. I reached my arm across Braden's shoulder and let it rest. Passing it off as a normal paternal gesture, it was still forward. "Brade here's the sports guy in the family. I follow the local teams but don't get passionate about much besides golf."

That got a laugh from my son. I felt Braden's hand rest on my thigh. It was beneath the water and these guys couldn't see, which only added to the naughty thrill. My son was DEFINITELY on the same wavelength as me in being turned on by these guys. I gentled ran my fingers along his delt muscle but kept my attention forward.

Still, Doug could sense something. "So... are you guys actual father and son?" There wasn't disapproval in his tone but something curious and maybe a little freaked out.

I thought of switching our story, but we'd already committed to being on this trip as dad and son, not as partners. But before I could answer Brade piped in.

"Oh yeah... We look a lot alike don't we?"

Now it was the son's turn to react. "Oh yeah, definitely. I mean you have more muscle, Braden, but the face..." He blushed as soon as he said that.

There was something weird going on, but I wanted to see how this played out. I watched Doug slip his own arm around Eric's strong upper body, resting it on the shoulder like I had with Braden.

"That's cool," the father said. "I guess you never know."

I looked eyes with him. Fuck, those steel blue eyes were hypnotic. "I guess not." Then I gulped, trying to act normal, as I took a chance. "You guys, um, actual father and son."

That got a laugh from the dad and a smile from Eric.

"We are," Doug said. He looked over at Eric. They were silently trying to communicate with each other. The father's expression was more serious as he turned back to us. "Listen, I think we're gonna call it a night. Maybe we'll see you around?"

"Um, yeah," Braden said. I could tell he was trying to hide his horniness. "Have a good one, guys."

We watched these Midwestern hunks get out and reach for their towels. Their looser trunks clung to their ass and upper legs and I decided to memorize the view for later.

We were finally alone and Brade whispered. "Fuck, Dad... what just happened?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I mean, I have an instinct, but definitely can't be sure."

That night Braden and I enjoyed sex without cumming. We wanted to save up that load and, well, it was awesome to try something new. All foreplay, lots of making out, lots of naked body contact, until we were too tired.

***

The Newcombs were on our mind the whole next day. I felt guilty, until Braden confessed he couldn't stop thinking about them.

"I just feel bad, Brade," I said. "This trip is supposed to be about us."

He patted my thigh like he had the night before. "It is, Dad. But even the idea of another father-son team.... it brings out the best in our own incest."

I gave my son a soft kiss. "The Connors aren't enough?" I teased. We hooked up with those guys maybe once every three months, enough that we had an easy familiarity as a two-team incest foursome, but not so often that it felt like too much.

"The Connors aren't here, Dad," Braden answered with a smile. "I just love showing off the love and physical intimacy we have. That I have with my own father."

I nodded down at my crotch. "Look what you did, buddy." I had hope to save sex for later that day, but my prick had a mind of its own.

"Show me, Dad," Braden hissed. "Show me the dick that made me 36 years ago."

I undid the draw strings of my trunks and pushed them down over my dad boner.

"Hot," Braden said in awe than got down on the floor, between my spread legs.

I wish I had the willpower around Braden, but as he leaned forward to take me into his mouth, I let him. I let my own son blow me slowly, and lovingly, to completion. And once he'd swallowed most of my sperm I gave him a deep, soulful kiss.

Braden had a proud satisfied smile as he pulled back. This blowjob had been about me and my release. "Damn, Dad, your sex drive is off the charts on this trip," he laughed.

****

I thought that would take the edge off. Maybe Braden did, too. But after dinner we were both a little quiet as we walked back to the room. "Wanna try the whirlpool again?" I asked.

Braden knew what I was thinking. He wasn't upset at the suggestion, just the opposite. "Definitely."

So we change back into fresh swim trunks and grabbed towels on the way out to the pool area. It was dark with the glow of the pool lights making the Caribbean evening more magical. There was a newlywed couple swimming in the larger pool. And in the shallow whirlpool area were the Newcomb men, father and son.

Eric's face lit up when he saw us. "Hey," he said. Maybe the jock would never be the talkative one, but he was in a more social mood for sure.

"Mind if we join?" Braden asked.

"I'd be offended if you didn't, guys," Doug said with his killer smile. He held up his plastic cup. "Eric and I were just enjoying a couple of beers... 18 is the drinking age here, and even if it wasn't, well, like I say this is a celebration."

I set down my towel. "Maybe we'll join you," I said. "Can I get you another?"

Doug held up the cup, which was low. He seemed to be weighing whether he should. "Hell, it's vacation. Yeah, I'll have a beer, whatever's on draft." He turned to Eric. Again the silent communication, leading the son to say, "Yeah, Dad.. if that's OK"

"Two," he said to me.

I felt a strange thrill and naughtiness. I don't even know what I expected to happen. This was a normal resort, a mix of families and young couples. These guys were just being polite, I told myself. Minnesota nice.

When I came back to the pool with four drinks, the small talk was especially small. Talking about possible excursions for the next day, Brade asking Eric all about his football plans at Nebraska. Doug rambling on about the Big Ten.

But a half hour went by and that honeymoon couple left. It was just us in the pool area, and Doug's Minnesota nice shifted to something more direct.

"Sorry if we were rude last night," he said. "I just got a little freaked out."

His eyes were on me, then on Braden.

I knew to be cautious. "No need to be freaked out. And we didn't find you rude."

I could sense Eric nudge his father's arm. It was charming in a way. Doug blushed. "Eric thinks we should have stayed."

Maybe I couldn't read between the lines entirely, but I wanted to see. I placed my arm on Braden's shoulder, like the night before.

"Fuck," Doug swore, then copied me. Eric even scooted into the embrace. "It's nice to see a father and son who are close."

"Dad and I are real close," Brade chimed in.

"We had a sense," Doug said, almost whispered. "Didn't we son?"

"Yeah Dad," Eric said. He was shy but somehow not as embarrassed as his father.

I ran my fingers along Braden's shoulder. Not trying to be surreptitious like the evening before.

I watched and could tell Doug copying me.

"Fuck!" Eric swore softly. That got a chuckle from his father.

Doug gave his son a look, then looked back over at me and Brade. "I don't know about you guys, but this is still new for me and Eric.... we're figuring stuff out."

Goddamn, we were talking about incest as much as we could without outright saying it. I gave an encouraging nod. I didn't want to spook these guys, but I wanted to push the conversation forward. "That's the best part," I said. "Except for the stuff that comes after."

I felt Braden's hand on my thigh once more, only it didn't rest there but slid up to explore the hem of my trunks and paw at my crotch.

Doug gulped. "How much stuff?"

I gave a slight shrug. "The full monte," I said. "As much as you could imagine."

Doug was silent but Eric had a big smile on his face. "We couldn't figure you out," the teen said. Looking at me, he said. "You seem too young to be Braden's dad, Mr. Drake."

"Bill," I corrected. "I had Brade when I was 16."

"And you, um," Doug started to ask. "When did you guys....?"

I looked at Braden. He was horny and very thrilled. "You OK with me talking about it, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," he gave a nod.

I looked back at the Newcombs. "Maybe this would be better to discuss somewhere private?"

I could see Eric nudge his dad again, and Doug let out a small, nervous laugh. "I know, buddy," he whispered. Then looking at me he answered. "Your room work, Bill?"

I was hard when I got out of the pool. We all were. But we toweled off and wrapped the towels around our waists as we made our way to the room.

We were all quiet and there was tension and anticipation in the air. Once we were indoors, I paused. "I guess we should get out of the wet swim suits," I said. "I don't want to make you guys uncomfortable."

Doug looked at his son, who was now noticeably taller than the father by a good inch or two. More silent communication before he answered for both of them. "We're all men, here, Bill."

Braden went first, slipping down his suit. It wasn't his speedos but a lycra square cut suit. My son was somewhere between chubbed and erect, and my own dick was getting more in the hard state as I stripped down.

"Sorry," I said. Wanting these men to be comfortable.

"I'm the same way, Mr. Drake," the jock said. As he pushed down the trunks I saw his rigid erection stick up. His skin was pale, though he had a slight tan line from the time down in the sun.

"Here goes," Doug said, following suit. I took their wet trunks put them all in the bathroom. As I came back in, Braden had taken a seat in one of the chairs, with the father and son on the bed. I smiled because Brade had a good intuition, too. Letting this play out without pushing it more than we already were.

I took the free chair, sitting down and enjoying the thrill of being naked like this. "I need to answer your question, Doug," I said. "Braden and I have a sexual and romantic relationship. We have since he was 18."

The father nodded. But it was Eric's reaction that was amazing. "See, Dad, I told you."

I saw Doug's dick finally rise to full erection, getting past his nerves.

"The full monte?" the man said back, repeating my words back to me.

"The full monte," I said.

Brade chimed in. "We'd love to show you guys... if you're interested."

Doug looked over at Eric. The kid was in full horned mode and his thick tool was actually jerking up and down. "I know Eric is," the pilot said. He seemed emotionally torn as he explained. "We've just been experimenting.... jacking off together, that kind of thing."

"Jacking off is fun, too," I said. Wanting not to push these men too far.

Doug gave me a grateful smile. "Since he was 18 huh? You ever feel guilty?"

"Nope," Braden said with a laugh.

I looked over at my son with a smile. It was true Brade was all in, never looking back. "I felt guilty at first... maybe a couple of months," I explained. "Then I realized it was right for me and Brade. Those guilt days are long behind us."

"Cool," Doug said, in a tone he wished he didn't feel the guilt pangs himself.

I looked at Eric, whose eyes were on me, lusting after me. "If it's not an inappropriate thing to say, Doug, you have a very attractive son." My eyes swept back to meet the father's blue eyes. "No disrespect."

"None taken," Doug said with a smile. "I very much agree with you."

"You attracted to your dad, Eric?" Braden asked. He leaned forward and I could see he was rock hard now, and dripping. But his tone was cautious and respectful.

"Oh yeah," the jock said, with a smile. "Dad's like the hottest guy in the world."

I could see Doug's flattered smile.

"What about him turns you on, bro?" Braden asked. "If you don't mind sharing."

I was watching Doug closely to see if he'd object, but he had a silent, horny expression grow on his face as his son responded.

"I mean, you see it, right? Dad's a total DILF." It was wild seeing the shy kid get talkative all of a sudden. "But it's more than that his body. I don't know, maybe cause he's my idea of what a man should be."

"I hear ya, bro," Braden said. "I'm that way with my dad." It was like they were talking and bonding without me and Doug there.

He gave Eric a wink then turned to the father. "Your son is hot to trot for this, Doug."

I watched the father reach over and place his arm on Eric's bare shoulder, drawing his son closer. Eric complied, and now that both men were nude I could see how hard they were for this, for each other.

"I try to put the breaks on sometimes," Doug said, softly, to Eric as much as to us. "But I'm hot to trot, too."

I watched them lean forward and tilt their heads. Father and son were now kissing, softly but fully, with tongue.

I expected a swear word from Braden. I expected one from myself. But we didn't want to break the spell of the incest kiss.

But once they broke, Braden was getting out of his chair, kneeling down. I kissed him, feeling up his outer arms as we got into it.

"God, Dad," I heard.

Braden pulled off and I gave him a nod. He bent his body down and began taking me into his mouth. My eyes watched him swallow several inches in loving slowness before I looked up at the Newcombs. They were watching and crazy excited.

"You like watching this?" I asked.

"Hell yes." This time it was Doug's turn to show enthusiasm. "How often does he...?"

"Once a week on average," I answered. "But we prefer fucking to just about anything."

"Hot," Eric said.

I expected a response from Doug, but both guys watch as Braden got into it. My son's really good at giving head, but the audience had him making a show of blowing me. Alternating pace and pulling off to lick my nuts some. I loved watching him, but I loved watching the father and son team watch up. Eric's hands were now on his dad's dick, touching it, exploring it, feeling his father's hardness while his own teen dick stood up angry and hard. The jock leaned to whisper in his dad's ear.

"Yeah, buddy," Doug whispered back.

I watched excited as Eric got off the bed and copied the position Braden was in.

"Fuck!" the father hissed as his teenage son began licking his cock. He looked up at me.

"You enjoy watching this?"

I nodded. "You have no idea."

"I do actually."

We both enjoyed our incest blowjobs, alternating where we looked, getting off on our sons but also on having an audience.

Doug's face was getting flush and his upper body was tensing. "Oh damn, Tiger... you're getting your Big Man close." It felt like I was witnessing some private nicknames.

Braden moaned around my cock, suggesting the words were getting to him too.

"Gonna cum in your son's mouth?" I grunted, giving into outright sex talk at last. "Down his throat?"

He looked at me, almost with pleading eyes. "Uh uh. Fuck!"

"My son's gonna get me off," I added. "Any second."

I then watched Doug have an orgasm. Eric choked some on the sperm then gulped.

I held Braden's head down gently as I shot my wad, too. As hot as the fourways were with the Connors, something was special about how spontaneously this evening had developed.

But as Braden licked my dribbles and kissed my dad cock, I saw Doug dart up and run to the bathroom. He stepped back in and tossed Eric his suit. "Let's go buddy," he said curtly, already stepping into his trunks.

Braden wasn't comprehending what was going on. He pulled off. "What?"

I patted his cheek in a signal. "Sorry guys," I said.

"It's OK," Doug said, guilt and anger in his eyes. "Just we better go."

Eric seemed frustrated, sexually but emotionally as he followed his father out. He gave one last look at us. Wistful and grateful at the same time.

Braden sat on the bed now, his hardon long gone. "Is everything gonna be OK, Dad?" he asked, concerned. I couldn't tell if he was concerned for the Newcombs or worried they'd talk about our relationshipt to someone else.

I didn't worry about them making anything public. That was the last thing Doug Newcomb was going to do. "It'll be OK, son," I said. "They just need some time to figure the incest thing out."

I stood up and walked over to pat Braden's head. My son seemed grateful to the gesture and leaned in and nuzzled my soft cock with his face. I ran my fingers through his hair. "Want a little cuddle time, Sport?" I asked. "It's our belated honeymoon, after all."

Braden chuckled against my genitals. But he patted my leg. "Yeah, Dad. Sounds perfect."

#drakestories

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teaandjumpers · 21 days ago

Text

Occasion (obikin ficlet)

Summary: Obi-Wan gives Anakin a gift. Rated G. - - - -

“I thought we agreed you’d wear goggles at the workstation,” said Obi-Wan, sidling up to stand beside Anakin at his workbench.

The younger man was hunched over the table, soldering something, his face too close to the tool to be considered safe.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t creep up on me like that,” said Anakin, not bothering to glance his way.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, leaning against the workbench. He had broadcast his approach through the Force, and he knew Anakin was aware of his presence, the younger man sending him a slightly annoyed ping across their bond.

Anakin was often hard to reach when he was working on a project, immersing himself completely in a task and finding it difficult to refocus when he was interrupted.

He felt bad for a moment, but he had a good reason for disrupting his former Padawan.

“I have something for you,” he said, keeping his voice light.

Anakin’s head shot up at the words, his shoulder-length hair whipping about him.

Oh, how he’d grown into those curls. When he had first started growing his hair out, the dark, golden strands beginning to coil near the ends, Obi-Wan knew that his soft-eyed Padawan was going to be a heartbreaker.

He just didn’t realize it would be his heart Anakin would be breaking. What a cruel fate to fall for your former Padawan. And a crueler fate to have half the galaxy fall along with you.

Obi-Wan had done all he could to rid himself of his feelings—the attraction, at least.

He had given up on not loving Anakin long ago, maybe even as early as that day on Naboo, standing beside his new apprentice, the young boy having been through so much already, standing tall alongside him as an entire planet cheered them on.

He had asked Yoda once, years before Qui-Gon took him on, what it was like for a Master and Apprentice, what shape a bond took.

“Different every Master and Padawan relationship is. Find your way there perhaps one day you will.”

And find his way he had. Or rather, it had found him.

He had loved his Master dearly, his Master’s presence in the Force always grounding, a warm fire that made him feel forever safe, like nothing bad could ever truly happen.

But Anakin—Anakin was like a supernova, an unending, thunderous storm, a screaming bright star that was impossible to ignore.

In those early years, he thought of little else but Anakin, his welfare and whereabouts.

Had his own Master woken repeatedly in the middle of the night, sheets drenched, a blind panic thundering against his chest as he searched the Force for his Padawan’s location?

Anakin had always been close. Almost always safe. And though Obi-Wan felt him in the Force, he always had to check, confirm it with his eyes, that Anakin was alive, healthy, there.

He was eternally grateful that his apprentice was strong in the Force. It meant Obi-Wan would never have to confront who he would be, who he would become if his Padawan was ever in any real danger.

Standing beside Anakin now, perhaps one of the strongest Force users in the galaxy, he felt silly, wondering if it was too late to take back his words. Wondering if the younger man had seen the small bundle he was clutching in his right hand.

Of course he had.

Obi-Wan wordlessly handed the package over, watching with some trepidation as Anakin untied the string holding the linen fabric in place.

The cloth fell away to reveal a model ship. It was still grimy despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts to clean the thing, the ship’s insect-like design making it difficult to thoroughly clean its delicate, spindly limbs.

He had bought the toy on a recent mission, passing by a storefront on a mid-rim planet where a child who looked remarkably like a 10-year old Anakin from behind had stopped him in his tracks, the young boy’s palms pressed against the smudged window pane as he gazed at the model ships neatly displayed on the other side.

How many times had a similar scene played out with Anakin, his Padawan’s gaze straying, fixing on a toy he would never have.

“It’s a Jedi Vector ship,” said Obi-Wan, the words clumsy on his tongue. “It was a High—”

“A High Republic ship,” finished Anakin, turning the model over in his hands, smiling as he did so. “I know.”

Anakin smiled up at him sweetly, and if Obi-Wan didn’t know the man, if there had been no planet-wide history between them, he would have grabbed him by the face and kissed him.

A ‘pathetic life form’ he had called him once. Anakin would have been a complete stranger in a different life, a speck of sand in a large desert of people who deserved better.

It was selfish, and very un-Jedi-like, but Obi-Wan was grateful that Anakin’s fate had been different.

“But what’s the occasion?” asked Anakin, still smiling, still looking up at him, still, somehow, every bit as spirited as he was before the war.

The occasion, thought Obi-Wan. The occasion was every occasion, every year, every month, every day, every breath the Force sought fit to gift him, here, alongside Anakin.

But he simply said—

“You are.”

#obikin ficlet #obikin #obikin fic #my fic #wrote this instead of watching the superbowl #already posted on ao3 but wanted to share here

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maxdibert · 5 months ago

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It’s the old chestnut that Snape fans from the livejournal days will recognize from discussions of Deathly Hallows when it first came out - the morality of the story basically boils down to ‘it’s fine when a Gryffindor does it’. Encapsulated by that low moment when Harry casts an Unforgivable and McGonagall approves of his gallantry rather than being horrified by what war makes of children. There’s a horrible streak of predestination to her characters. If a character is pretty, reasonably provided for, and sorted into Gryffindor then they are good even if their actions are by any objective standard not. If they’re unloved from birth, they remained unloved. Snape had to die without Harry ever having to reckon with the living man in the full knowledge of his true loyalties because she didn’t know what to do with the one character who wrote himself out of that binary.

For me, the best example of this is Tom Riddle. Rowling establishes that Tom is incapable of feeling affection because he wasn’t conceived out of love, essentially implying in a children’s series that if your parents didn’t truly love each other and you were the result of a poorly handled drunken night, then your life is more or less cursed. It’s like saying that if you aren’t born into a traditional nuclear family and your conception happened under questionable circumstances, then you’re doomed to choose the wrong path, that you’re somehow less of a person, that you won’t be able to feel the same way as others. This was something I thought when his backstory was revealed in the books, and honestly, even back then, as a teenager, I found it horrifying. Especially because, both in my case and that of most people around me, our families are quite dysfunctional or far from conventional, so that really hit me the wrong way.

Rowling has a very conservative worldview in general, and she projects that into the world she’s created through the moral foundations that govern it. As you rightly said, there’s no room in that story for people who weren’t born into privileged environments. If you were unlucky enough to be poor, to have parents who didn’t love you, or to have any sort of illness, then you’re either going to end up being really evil or even poorer and more miserable than rats. This ties into the blatant classism present in her work. And I’m not just referring to the blood-status dichotomy, but to the subtle classism that Rowling normalizes in her narrative, which is less subtle than she likely believes, because she probably isn’t even aware of it. It’s just another projection of her own biases. Rowling rewards characters who do good, even though they’ve always had it easy because they come from functional backgrounds, with the tools to make good decisions, positive role models, and healthy emotional relationships with their surroundings. Essentially, she glorifies people who were raised to be good for doing good, as if that were some kind of achievement. On the other hand, she demonizes characters simply because they don’t fit into her moral framework, without taking into account the social background that shaped them. She blames these characters for not overcoming their past, their traumas, and their hardships, for not somehow magically learning the difference between right and wrong, while completely ignoring all the socioeconomic and cultural mechanisms that play a huge role in shaping one’s worldview, especially in the choices made during youth when one is most vulnerable.

Basically, Rowling displays a complete cognitive dissonance in her work, creating very similar characters with equally reprehensible behaviors but treating them in completely different ways just because one reminds her of her high school crush and the other of a guy she didn’t like. And that’s a huge mistake and a sign of mediocre character development.

#jk rowling #anti jk rowling #she's basically a classist bitch #and the worst part is that she doesn't even know #severus snape #pro severus snape #severus snape defense #snapedom #tom riddle #harry potter meta

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airisu25 · 2 years ago

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HotchReid the narcissist conversation

By the time of season 2, Hotch and Haley's fights had been a regular thing. Jack's one then, they started to need more bonding activities for the kid besides eating and bathing. Meanwhile, the team was struggling after the fisher king case.

Hotch and Reid had always hit off since the beginning. He was Spencer's mentor, senior, role model in many perspectives. But they also shared dry humor, nerd culture, old souls, and just overall respect and admiration for each other. That led to the many many debates and arguments just for the sake of knowledge and entertainment between them.

In one of the fights, Haley accidently called Hotch a narcissistic because his devote for the job and the title hero (she later then apologized because we all said horrible things in a fight, but the deed was done).

He couldn't let it go and it came up in a psychology discussion with Reid. He didn't out right say it, but Spencer could read between the lines that Hotch was seriously considered he was saving people for his own ego.

To Reid, Hotch was one of the most selfless people he'd ever known including Marie Curie. He just went out of his way, using all the data, statistics, observations, interactions he had of the man to defend Hotch against, well Hotch (he was too angry to track down where this thought had came from). He even dared to bring up the religious household and bottomline abusive childhood due to the outburst emotion. He did that with such passion, anger, and protectiveness Hotch had never witnessed in the past 5 years they'd worked together. Remember in the early seasons, Reid always approached the victims and suspects with this soft young innocent kind way of his, not the passive aggressive and confidence he's gained within the next years.

So at this point their relationship was still platonic and professional with a healthy dose of trust and connection. Therefore, they both was surprised by the blatant deep adoration Spencer just showed. While Hotch didn't know what to do with the butterflies set free in his stomach, Reid was confused and embarrassed. Let's say it's a strangely important moment for both of them. And that's how Reid was so sure Hotch would remember it and get his message. All that trust and hope ended up with the shortest hug Reid has had with the team throughout the 15 seasons but also the first he initiated.

"I knew you would understand."

#hotchreid #hotch x reid #headcanon #criminal minds #no hate to Haley #their marriage was such a great plot #i just miss them #and the implied depth of the team dynamics in the early seasons #ugh the feels #heid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid

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mrhaitch · 8 months ago

Note

did you have any men you looked up to, growing up? did you have any role-models of healthy love that is properly received or given(whether in media or otherwise) that helped you arrive where you are as a loving, involved father and husband today?

Not really, no. Bits and pieces from some relatives or people who were in my life when I was younger: my paternal grandfather for one. He is a gentle and softly spoken man, who emphasises diplomacy and listening. One of his most frequent phrases, usually as a preamble to his joining a discussion is "From this point of view..."

I've always loved him for that, starting any kind of discussion fully prepared to be proven wrong, allowing the space for disagreement. It's a rare and wonderful thing.

A lot of how I am now also comes from idolising my aunt's partner from my early childhood. He was an academic and a musician, and he had a talent for making you feel seen. He was the first person to talk to me like what I thought and felt mattered, that my interests were valid. He was always kind, enthusiastic, and knew how to draw me out of myself. Sadly he and my aunt separated when I was in my early teens and I've never seen him again.

With that said, I've always had a very strong sense of self - a clear idea of who I was and what I wanted to be. Or, more specifically, what and who I didn't want to be - which was most of the men around me. Men who carried sadness and confusion like a weapon. Men who saw their partners as objects or toys or tormentors, and their children as burdens or irritants.

Haitch is probably the biggest inspiration, or rather who she made me want to be. The best relationships are the ones that show you how far you've got to go, the best partners are the ones that inspire you to be better. The ones that inspire you to discard fear, ego, and hubris, that inspire you to expose yourself to the possibility of being hurt. That make you want to take that step off the cliff into infinity, even if you can't see the bridge beneath your feet waiting to carry you across.

With all of that said - I don't see, nor have I ever seen, myself as being in anyway exceptional. My behaviour is, to my mind, just basic decency and humanity. If you love someone - show it. Treat them with dignity and warmth. If you have children or find yourself responsible for them, dig deep and find the things they need within yourself.

I'll wrap up with my favourite Kurt Vonnegut quote, because it's basically a tradition now for me to have a quote for every occasion:

#mr.haitch #pseudowho #mr haitch #mrhaitch #mrhaitch answers you too #one day i will learn to be concise but that is not this day

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 3 months ago

Text

ink ch.2

summary: Park Seonghwa has been given an ultimatum by his parents: a year to marry a woman of their choosing with the end goal of producing an heir to the family fortune since queer party boy Seonghwa can't be trusted with it. His solution? Get absolutely blasted in tattoos to scare off his possible suitors and their families. But why did his tattoo artist have to be so pretty and kind? It's enough to make him question some things. Possibly, everything.

pairing: park seonghwa x hwang hyunjin

warning: mdni, barebacking, oral sex, public sex

total word count: 30,328 | chapter word count: 3,061

ao3 link: chapter 2

II: some solutions present their own problems

Mingi was not his first choice of friend (he would never tell him that, of course, the man is a big, jealous, 6ft tall baby) to meet up with to show his tattoo design mock-ups that Hyunjin had sent over Instagram a few hours ago, but he was available now, unlike his other friends, and Seonghwa couldn’t wait to show someone.

Sue him, he was impatient.

Mingi worked as a model and had become very sought-after a few months ago, finally catching his big break. But it meant that he was either jet setting and extremely unavailable or very, very available. And needy. And clingy.

Seonghwa couldn’t lie though, he liked being needed.

He had never been needed until he befriended Mingi.

They used to hook up some in college and neither of them were the type to actually want a relationship but still Seonghwa found himself taking care of Mingi like they were together. It wasn't really reciprocated in the traditional sense but he had to admit, Mingi really had been there for him in his own Mingi way.

He was often surprised at the sage advice that Mingi always seemed to offer at just the right time.

Seonghwa felt himself smile as he crossed the street, spotting his friend singing to himself as he sat down at a table in front of the coffee shop, a cup of espresso looking comically tiny in the man's big hands.

He looked really good, Seonghwa had to admit. He was glad his agency wasn't one to force strict dieting, so Mingi looked trim but healthy, glowing from the inside. Seonghwa wondered if he had met someone.

“What's up!” Mingi's goofy deep voice resonated as he spotted his friend approaching, standing up to hug him.

Seonghwa used to shrivel into himself at the threat of physical affection, never having grown up receiving it. But somehow he had managed to befriend huggers. Now, he found himself missing it, sometimes even craving a hug from a friend.

Pathetic.

“Hi, Mingi. Please remember that I do have to breathe in order to live.” He said into the man's shoulder as he was being squeezed affectionately.

“Oh, my bad.” He chuckled as he let go.

Seonghwa was suddenly nervous to tell Mingi his idea for some reason, the man was so practical that he was sure he would balk at the idea of spending (he's sure he would call it “wasting”) money on something so frivolous.

He tried to stall, “How was Copenhagen?”

Mingi laughed, “It was great, but you texted me to meet up so what's up?”

Seonghwa took a deep breath, “Well my parents uh… you know what, I need a drink first.”

Five minutes later, iced banana milk matcha in hand, Seonghwa sat back down in front of his friend, “Okay.” He cleared his throat, “Um. My parents gave me an ultimatum. Marry a woman of their choosing, or get cut off.”

“Easy, put me in a wig.”

“Mingi, they've met you.”

“Yeah. Damn.”

“I only have a year.”

“You should run away.”

Seonghwa laughed dryly, “I already considered that.”

“Wouldn't work.”

“Nope, wouldn't work.”

“Damn. What are you gonna do, man? You're like very gay.” He said this so gravely that Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile.

“Am I? I hadn't noticed.”

“I've literally been inside of you.”

“Ugh, I know. You ever miss it?”

“All the fucking time, man. You were the best dick I ever had, I swear.”

“Aw, Mingi. That means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. Stop stalling. How are you getting out of this?”

“Tattoos.”

“Tattoos?”

“Tattoos. What respectable family would let their daughter marry me if I get blasted?”

“I literally can't think of a single one.”

“Exactly.”

“But they're so expensive. And you're squeamish as fuck, bro. I saw you swoon at a paper cut one time.”

“Yeah but… like how else am I gonna get out of this?”

“You could legally change your name and get a real job.”

“I fear I don't have the right DNA for work, Mingi.” He sighed dramatically.

“Your tattoo artist is hot, isn't he?” He raised an eyebrow, eyeing Seonghwa suspiciously.

“Okay, just because you're right-”

“I knew it!” He all but yelled.

“But to be fair! I found that out after deciding to get the tattoos. His face isn't even on his Instagram page!”

Mingi chuckled, “I can't say shit, I'm fucking my manager.”

“I knew it!”

“How the hell could you possibly know that?”

“You're glowing, man.”

Mingi blushed, “Oh, well. I kinda like. Maybe am really into it. For real, you know?”

“I really don't, but I'm happy for you. My baby's growing up, I could cry.”

“No you couldn't.” Mingi narrowed his eyes at him, knowingly.

“No,” Seonghwa laughed, “I couldn't. What's his name?”

“You’re deflecting again.”

“Fuck.”

“So, do you know what you're getting yet?”

Mingi had scrolled back and forth through the sketches Hyunjin had sent at least 10 times now, his jaw open nearly the whole time. Seonghwa couldn’t blame him, Hyunjin had outdone himself. He had drawn Icarus’ fall from the sky with the sun, clouds, and feathers on fire raining down around the figure. From everyone else's perspective, Icarus was falling. But when Seonghwa would look down at it, it would look like he was flying. It was done in a sort of block print style with thin lines, detailed but not crowded.

“Bro,” he said, finally, “This is actually so sick.”

Seonghwa breathed a sigh of relief, “It's actually really good, right?” Almost bouncing with excitement.

“It's so good. You're telling me he's talented and hot?”

“So hot.” He moaned, leaning back in his chair.

“You can't fuck your tattoo artist.” Mingi said sternly.

Seonghwa pouted for dramatics, “But whyyyy? He's so pretty. Please can I? Pretty please?”

Mingi rolled his eyes, “What if it ends badly and then you have this guy's art permanently all over your body? I'm assuming you're not stopping at a half sleeve?”

Seonghwa had felt a little silly after Hyunjin had informed him there was no way he could do a full sleeve all in one go. How was he supposed to know? Not that Hyunjin was rude about it or anything, Seonghwa was just easily embarrassed when he's found out to be uninformed about something.

Seonghwa slouched, “No, of course not, I have to get covered. And I know you're right but have you considered that I want to so bad?”

“I'm not one to take my own advice, obviously, but ink is way more permanent than a manager. Just. Be careful, okay man?” Mingi gave him a serious, sympathetic look.

“I know, I know. I will. Fuck.” Seonghwa's head dropped into his hands.

“I'm glad to hear it.”

“Tell me about this manager who's dick is not as good as mine.”

Mingi looked bashful all of the sudden, “Um well. She doesn't have a dick actually.”

“No way! Song Mingi is dick sober?” He was astounded.

“Completely dick sober, bro.” Mingi nodded, barely containing a smile.

“Did I know you were bi?”

“Probably not, I don't think we've ever really discussed my dating history and I happened to be on a long dick only streak there for a while so. Who knows.” He shrugged.

“You really like her though?”

Mingi was beaming, “I really, really do, man. She's a little older than me and ridiculously funny and super smart like she just says shit sometimes and I'm like that's the smartest thing I've ever heard, you know?”

“You're really smart, too, Mingi.”

“Thanks, Hwa. I mean yeah, I know I am, and I'm not saying she makes me feel dumb, actually she tells me I'm smart, too. But I just-”

“I think you're in love, dude.” He interrupted, already seeing the signs.

“Probably.” Mingi sighed contentedly.

“Well, let me know when the wedding is, if I'm not dirt poor and on the streets, I'll get you something nice.” Seonghwa offered dryly.

“Shut up.” Mingi shot back.

“Never.” Seonghwa answered impishly.

“Thanks, man. I'm glad we got caught up.”

“Me too, Mingi.” And he really was. He felt way better about things than he had prior to talking to Mingi.

“I've gotta go, but I'll catch you later, okay? Send me pics of the finished product!” He stood up and started walking off, “And don't fuck your tattoo artist!”

“I won't!” Seonghwa called after him.

“You're a bad liar, Park Seonghwa! Later!”

Seonghwa was a horrible liar.

The leather of the tattoo chair was cold on Seonghwa’s back. He had worn a flannel over his black tank top and reached back to gather it from behind him where he had taken it off to pull it back up over his left arm, leaving the right one exposed for what was about to come.

Hyunjin walked around the corner, drying his hands off, “Do you think they're going to talk or just trade off trying to sneakily stare at each other the whole time?” He was referring to the fact that Jeongin was out in the lobby with Seonghwa's friend Yeosang.

Seonghwa laughed at how accurate it was - he had brought Yeosang along with him for moral support because he was a calming presence, and he happened to be available since Seonghwa’s appointment was in the late afternoon and Yeosang had gotten done with the Intro to Philosophy class he was a teacher's assistant for around an hour ago, but mostly the first reason. “Well, I don't know, mine's a Gemini so it's completely possible.”

Hyunjin sighed dramatically, “Damn, mine's an Aquarius. They're hopeless.”

“They're probably communicating telepathically.”

Hyunjun laughed, “Yeah but not to each other.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“To their home planets.”

“Probably neighboring home planets.”

“Yeah but they'll never figure that out either.”

They smiled at each other, savoring the ease at which they had friendly back-and-forth. All Seonghwa could hear was Mingi's voice in his head telling him not to fuck his tattoo artist.

He could do it.

He could be strong.

He wouldn't seduce him.

Probably.

The care and precision with which Hyunjin was doing his job was fun to watch, almost intimidating. Seonghwa had always admired people who were good at their craft. It's probably how he ended up going home with so many bartenders and baristas. He'd start out genuinely watching them work and always seemed to forget that staring in such a way was easily perceived as flirting. But there was something so mesmerizing about someone who was confident and careful with their hands like that. This was no different. Hyunjin had already very cautiously shaved Seonghwa's upper arm with a razor and was now lining up the stencil with the transfer ink, hovering above the pen marks he had drawn on Seonghwa’s bicep and deltoid in order to achieve perfect symmetry and straightness, hovering millimeters above, hands steady as a rock.

“Remember, if it looks weird at all, please tell me. We can take it off and start over at this stage. I don't mind repositioning it 10, 15, even 100 times, but what I don't want is you to look at it tomorrow when it's in permanent ink and think ‘my shit is all crooked’, okay?” He pressed the paper down, smoothing it out carefully before peeling it off, “Okay go take a look in that mirror and tell me if it needs fixed.”

Seonghwa stood up and looked in the mirror. It was hard not to be excited. The piece looked even better on skin than it had on paper. He moved around, looked at it from all angles, flexed. It was perfect. Nailed it on the first try.

“I think you actually did it perfectly on the first try.” He turned to Hyunjin, having a hard time hiding his smile.

“Sweet,” He winked, “Not the first time I've heard that.”

Seonghwa gave him a jokingly judgy grimace as he resumed his position on the chair, “What does that even mean?”

Hyunjin snickered, “No clue. You ready?”

Seonghwa felt his heart rate pick up, nervous all of the sudden, “Um, yeah, I don't think I'll be more ready any time soon.”

Hyunjin walked over with the ink gun in gloved hands, laying his left hand on Seonghwa’s shoulder gently, framing the transfer ink, and leaning in to get started. Seonghwa could feel Hyunjin’s breath on his bare skin and couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of warmth curling in his abdomen at the sensation.

Which was quickly erased by the first bite of the needle on his skin. He's surprised he didn't flinch.

Hyunjin seemed to read his mind, “Just tell me if you need to take a break, okay? Please don't try to be stoic.”

Seonghwa grit his teeth. He was embarrassed by his low pain tolerance. But he also felt he wouldn't be able to hide his discomfort from Hyunjin, so he agreed, “Okay, will do.”

Hyunjin had only gotten halfway through the outline of Icarus when Seonghwa started to feel woozy, palms cold and clammy, forehead beading with sweat, lightheaded.

“Um, Hyunjin,” His vision was going black around the edges, “Can we uh, stop for a minute?”

Hyunjin pulled back immediately, “Oh, yeah of course,” then looked at him, “Jesus, I should have stopped sooner, I'm sorry.” He took his gloves off and reached for the paper towels, handing some to Seonghwa, who used them to dry his face.

“No, no, I'm sorry. I was a little scared I'd pass out, this is honestly better than I assumed.” He gave a shaky laugh.

Hyunjin smiled fondly, “You need something with sugar.”

Seonghwa nodded, “Yes, probably so. Unfortunately I did not plan ahead.”

Hyunjin was already digging through the drawer at his station, pulling out a candy bar, “Start with this and then why don't I send our odd little friends on a mission for boba down the street? I want some, too, this is mostly selfish, I promise.”

Seonghwa took the candy bar, and bit into it greedily, immediately feeling better after swallowing his first bite, “Okay, sure, that sounds good. Thank you.”

Hyunjin looked at him, amused, “Yeah, of course.” Then called over his shoulder, “YANG!”

Two voices replied, one confused, “Yes?” And the other a bratty, “What?!”

Seonghwa shook his head, “He thought you said ‘Kang'.”

Hyunjin's eyes became half moons and his head tipped back in laughter, “Can you both come here?”

Hyunjin had finished the rest of the outline of Icarus by the time their friends got back with their drink orders - he had only made fun of Seonghwa a little bit when he needed to study the menu for the boba place before ultimately taking his suggestion for the “silly strawberry drink” he thought he would like.

He was correct.

Upon Seonghwa's request, Jeongin and Yeosang had pulled up chairs in Hyunjin’s studio - he needed a distraction - and were now playfully bickering upon Yeosang's insistence to tell them about how Jeongin had asked for the barista's number at the boba shop.

Jeongin was blushing and pouting, defensive and embarrassed, while Hyunjin had to stop tattooing due to his and Seonghwa's laughter by the time Yeosang had finished the story.

“And then, she finally understood what he was asking, she wrote it on the receipt-”

“STOP!” Jeongin whined

“- and he threw it away!” Yeosang finished

“Out of habit!” Jeongin defended himself.

“You threw it away in front of her! In the trashcan right outside the shop!” Yeosang was not going to let his new friend off the hook easily. Arguably, calling someone out like that was not the way to make friends but it weirdly seemed to be working.

“You fumbled.” Hyunjin and Seonghwa said at the same time, looking at each other in awe at their synchronization, then laughing again.

Yeosang tucked a piece of hair behind his own ear (or, he tried to but ended up tucking nothing), looking at Jeongin with playful eyes, which was met with Jeongin sticking his tongue out, earning a blush from Yeosang.

It went on like that until Hyunjin had to kick the other two out due to them turning into too much of a distraction and not wanting to be in a hurry to finish up at least the outlines during this appointment, planning to spare him from shading until next time. He paused every few minutes or so to drink his boba, or at least he was using that as a cover, because he seemed to be able to sense when Seonghwa was in need of a break by now.

Seonghwa couldn’t stop admiring his arm - even without shading and some detail work, it was beautiful. “Hyunjin, thank you. It's better than I dared to imagine. How did you learn, anyways?”

Hyunjin smiled, a tinge of sadness behind his eyes, “You're very welcome. And that’s… a long story.”

Seonghwa smiled, “I have tons of time.”

“I just tortured you for three hours and you want to spend more time with me?” Hyunjin smirked at him.

“Call me a sadist, I guess.”

“Hey!”

Seonghwa laughed, “You're the one who called it torture! Come on, let me buy you dinner.”

He didn't know why he said it. He could still hear Mingi's voice telling him not to fuck his tattoo artist.

But Seonghwa genuinely wanted to hear more about him.

He was almost sick at the realization that he might actually be interested in someone as a person and not just for his looks.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “Okay, fine. But just so you know, this is way out of the norm for a typical artist/client relationship.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel proud of himself, “Are you saying I'm special?” he cheesed and blinked sweetly at him.

“You're definitely something else.” Hyunjin finished wiping down the tattoo chair, “And you're lucky you're my last appointment for the day.”

Hyunjin stopped cleaning for a second to look at Seonghwa and he felt the same feeling as he did when he first met the artist, like he was being studied. But this time there was something else behind his eyes, darker, almost hungry.

Seonghwa refused to let his brain believe it could possibly be attraction.

“Noted. I feel very lucky, Hyunjin.” He said after his mind stopped whirling with excitement at his thoughts.

What the hell was he getting himself into?

#ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez mingi #ateez #ateez smut #strangers to lovers #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids jeongin

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cowboyjen68 · 2 years ago

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hi jen! i’ve been following you for a very long time, and i haven’t considered myself lgbt in any way (i just think you’re the coolest), but i’ve had a bit of a strange experience this year — i seemingly fell completely in love with this friend of mine, this strong and kind and beautiful woman. we’ve always had a very close and special friendship, and she’s basically everything i’ve ever wanted. like i said i’ve never felt something for another woman before, but she makes me feel really special. she makes me feel like i’ve never felt before. and it’s kind of been weighing on me, because the experience of loving her has been so much more enormously positive and joyous for me than the experience of loving any man i have in the past. and it makes me feel kind of comfortable to love her and be a woman with her. so i feel conflicted. obviously i know i don’t have to (or can’t?) redefine my whole identity because of this one experience, but it feels so special and different and right

Hi. I know our culture ( including the LGBT+ culture) pushes this notion that we must pick one and go crazy with it. Get the tattoos, hang up a flag, wear all the shirts. It seems everyone if very keen on making sure everyone has a tight grasp on their sexuality and must them immediately and head first dive into whatever they perceive as that "community".

The real facts are, humans are complex but in a world less full of constant information about sexuality and attraction and whatever other kind of boxes people seem to NEED us to fit perfectly in, sexuality would be simple. We would grow, learn, experience things and eventually understand what fulfills us and who we are truly sexually and emotionally able to bond with in a meaningful way.

Some of us figure it out early. Perhaps we can push aside the noise or we had good role models who gave us space to explore while setting healthy examples. Some of us just need experience and time. Others go through life not really caring to name their sexuality beyond the moment or relationships they are currently experiencing.

Being a lesbian I can't speak for or understand bisexuality except knowing that I have a firm sexuality and know understand who I am attracted to and why. So my best guess is any sexuality is like that, straight, bi, gay etc. It takes time and life experience to figure things out and bisexuality is often sort of either placed as a blanket on people as in "all people are a little bisexual"--(They ARE NOT) or " if you are bisexual you are probably just gay". Both bullshit information that is out there more than it deserves to be. SO hearing those things women who meet another woman who piques her interest think "I am straight, it is just this one time and it probably isn't real" OR " was i wrong all these years about men and I am really a lesbian". Being bisexual is lovely and powerful because you get to explore both sides of the human experience in a meaningful way.Being attracted to men and women should be celebrated as a unique way of experiencing the world.

Bisexuality is a real thing, Even if it is one special woman that wakes up that feeling and it never happens beyond that, enjoy that emotion and connection. You can decide if you would like to be "out" or not on either side of that relationship. It is up to you.

I hear later in life lesbians say similar things to what you say and there is a push in our society to be straight because that is the default, the majority of people are straight. It is up to you if you want to weigh the connection you have had to men and how you feel about this woman and decide if you past relationships were more based on what you though you were supposed to be doing and less informed by your true attraction and needs. In retrospect you might realize that all along your "attraction" to men was superficial, a duty or role you thought you had. It is okay to explore that. Don't worry to much about either label and it is okay to be wrong.

I believe it is not our sexuality is not what changes but, with time and experiences, our understanding of it does.

#lesbian #bi woman #sexuality

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sourpatchys · 1 year ago

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My honest thoughts on Daryl Dixon 1x5.

!Spoiler warning for those who haven’t seen it!

Honestly? I’m screaming and crying and throwing up.

Personally, I don’t ship Caryl, but oh boy, was I excited about that radio transmission.

(I don’t hate Caryl I just really enjoy healthy platonic relationships in media, pls don’t hate me)

I’m like 99.99% sure Carol said that Rick was back and OHHH BOYYYY am I even MORE excited for The Ones Who Live— it’s honestly the perfect set up for the two series to connect. I will fight someone on this.

I feel so bad for Laurent :(

All my homies love Laurent >:[

The fact that he was lied too for so long really shines though in this episode.

And I don’t mean that in a bad way— he’s literally just a kid, all he wants is a family like it used to be.

And now? He’s on a quest with the first male role model he’s ever had that he honestly looks up to, not because he was told too, but because he wants too, knowing he’s going to be left with strangers.

Hearing him ask why he couldn’t just leave with Daryl honestly broke my heart.

And ISABELL!!!!

Girl was just going to kill herself?? Just like that??

I need to know what that note said, I will literally start eating dry wall if I don’t find out in the next episode.

Don’t even get me started on Daryl’s outburst.

I don’t think we’ve seen him like that throughout any of the main series. At least not towards a child.

I stg I thought he was going to start crying when Laurent said he just didn’t want to be alone.

I know I did. I sobbed so hard, I had to PAUSE and gather myself after that one.

This is— truly a side of Daryl we’ve never seen before. His past is coming up but by bit, he’s going in between who he’s become and who he started as.

And he was willing to lose his eye?? Are you being fr right now?

I’m absolutely losing it.

This is still fresh because I literally JUST watched it, but as for Cons, I don’t think I have any?

Obviously, he’s a little more clumsy in this series than what’s to be expected given his history.

This episode really just gave me everything I’ve been wanting in terms of storyline.

We learned about the ship, about what Daryl did, why they’re after him.

We got to see, up close, how the walkers are being mutated. It’s a man made mutation, which is so fucking interesting— you cannot convince me that it isn’t.

We finally got to see the speech

Isabell, Laurent and Daryl are all in the same place again. Granted, they’re surrounded by people who hate them but that’s beside the point.

Using people as walker food?? On such a large scale?

I have so much more to say but this is already so long.

Please leave your thoughts, I would love to hear how everyone else feels, even the negatives!

In any case, my feelings on this episode can be described as shown below.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon spin off #daryl dixon show #the walking dead daryl #screaming and throwing up #twd daryl #twd

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nemolfc · 2 years ago

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𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬, �� 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫? 𝐎𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐒𝐀? 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡? 𝐌𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞… 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 )

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐩

[ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ( 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 ) ]

[ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 ]

( the second I read the request, this song came into mind )

Her mother had always told her that loving someone means that you go through the good days and the bad days together, that no matter what; you attempt your best to triumph through the hardships in order to maintain a healthy relationship as contrary to the picturesque image the films and television shows provide, falling in love was never sunshine and roses yet it also contained the dark clouds and rainy days, Maya had never experienced the notion of falling madly in love with someone up until she met Jordan Henderson.

Their first encounter was quite hilarious, being a popular artist with a massive following; she'd been contacted by the management of his football club to paint a mural of the players as means to celebrate their incredible achievements; and Maya, being a lifelong fan of the club had agreed almost immediately seeing as the payment was good and she'd be granted access to interview and meet some of the players in order to also write memorable quotes on the mural, the first person she met - or rather - nearly tackled due to her clumsiness was none other than captain himself.

Initially believing that he'd brush her off, or worse rudely speak to her; she'd been surprised by how calm, collected and genuinely polite he was to her, offering to help her and show her around the training center as well as meet and speak to every single player along with the coaching staff, throughout her time working on the mural; she'd gotten close to several of the players, one of them being the vice captain, James Milner.

One day, while she was working; James was keeping her company as she spent most of the time alone. " You know " he said, " I think Hendo's got a crush on you "

Maya halts her brush strokes to cast him a confused look, " Pardon? "

" Come on Maya, you can't possibly too oblivious to the way our Skipper has been looking at you " James states with a smile.

" Did it ever occur to you that a man and a woman can just - " Maya trails off before chuckling, " Oh I don't know, be friends "

" I don't think he believes that but if you do " James said, " You'll break his heart "

" James, I think it's time you start in investing in bettering your eye sight cause there is no way Jordan likes me like that " Maya chuckles, adding a few strokes to even out the details.

" And why is that? " James asks her with a challenging tone.

" I'm not a beautiful model, or the standard image of WAG's that people are used to, I'm just an independent artist who got lucky " Maya murmurs.

" That's rubbish, and if you won't believe me, pay attention to Jordan during training " were James's last words before he makes his way to the training pitch.

Not thinking much of it, Maya decides not to dwell on his words; joining the training session later on, to observe the players and hopefully work on the mural more -- every now and then, her gaze gravitates towards Jordan who seemed to work on a different gear during training, she looks away for a moment, dismissing James's words from her mind.

It wasn't until later on after training, just as she was making her way towards her car; she's stopped by the sound of Jordan calling her name causing her to turn around to see him jog up to her. " Hey " Jordan smiles.

Maya beams, " Hi! what's up? "

" I've been meaning to talk you for a week and a half but I've been chickening out every time " Jordan begins with a nervous chuckle.

" Ok " Maya said with a confused smile.

" I ... " Jordan began, momentarily losing himself in her doe shaped eyes, blinking twice; he rubs the back of his neck, hoping that she did not see the dust of pink on across his cheeks. " I like you, like a lot and I don't know if you like me back, and it's totally fine if you don't like me back " he chuckles, " But I would love to explore a possible connection, cause I think you are so talented and quite possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life "

To say that Maya was stunned would be an understatement, " I ... I'm speechless " she muttered, truthfully she had harbored a crush on Jordan from their first encounter yet opted to remain silent on her feelings so as to not complicate things. " I thought I wasn't your type to be honest " she states with an embarrassed chuckle.

" I can assure you " Jordan said, " I'm not like those other fools you see, I've actually grown fond of you because of your personality and how kind you are, So? " he asks with a smile.

" I would love to go on a date with you " Maya beams.

" Good " Jordan exhales a deep breath. " I'll phone you soon, yeah? "

Maya nods, " yeah " she leans closer to press a kiss on his cheek. " I'll see you later "

Three years had passed since that day, full of highs, lows and everything in between as falling love is not a fairy tale yet neither Maya nor Jordan wanted to give up on their love; that alone motivated them to work through every single hurdle that came at them, be it Jordan's hectic match fixtures or Maya's excessive need to isolate herself when things become too much, the pair were certain that their love can triumph anything that is thrown their way.

And yet, they definitely did not expect such a hurdle of this magnitude.

The 22/23 season was a blunder on Liverpool with several players departing, and the after effects had shown on Jordan who'd been on the unfortunate receiving end of a lot of criticism and hate by some of the fans of the club - and while he wanted to keep Maya away from it all, she insisted on helping him the best way she possibly can, homemade meals, inviting him to join her whenever she painted and often times at night, allowing him to be as vulnerable as possible by embracing him in her arms to comfort him; attempting her best to silence the voices inside of his head.

It didn't seem enough, least not to Maya who'd been under the impression that he was set to return to the club in the 23/24 season - he'd been training, working hard which had garnered the attention of several people online, some hopeful for a good performance whilst others felt the need to further criticize him, demanding that he leaves the club; she'd hoped that he didn't allow their words to affect him yet she had no idea of the storm that is lurking in the corner.

It started with a rumor, she'd been scrolling on Instagram when her best friend sent her a DM of Fabrizio Romano's post in which he reported that Jordan is considering an offer made by the Saudi Arabian club that goes by name of Al-Ettifaq; at first, she brushed it off, believing that it was merely just that, a rumor as there was no possible away that Jordan could depart from Liverpool.

Yet as the week dragged on, the whispers got louder; they'd revealed the amount of money that was being offered, and the benefits - and with each day, that ludicrous rumor became a reality when Jordan returned home just before the first match of the pre season was set, she'd tried to call him a few times, yet he didn't answer and it took another week of silence before that damned video had dropped and it set in stone what she and so many others didn't believe was possible.

Jordan Henderson departed from Liverpool Football Club after twelve years.

______________

" Maya! " Jordan calls out for her as he entered their shared home looking around, " Babe "

" I'm in the kitchen! "

Jordan walks into the kitchen; the first thing he noticed was her viciously chopping the tomatoes to throw them in the sizzling pan, while he believed that she didn't hear about anything, given the fact that she doesn't go online much, only for her art; her current actions prove otherwise. " Babe "

Maya looks up and forces a smile, " Hi, how was the medical test? did it go well? "

Jordan heaves out a sigh, casting his eyes down for a brief moment before looking up. " Maya " he began slowly.

" Tell me, when was I supposed to know? one month, two months maybe three months after you left " Maya states, furiously wiping away the tears as she laughed, " I didn't want to believe it, I thought it was a fucking rumor Jordan, the man that I love, the man that is so loyal to the club is now walking away, disregarding his morals for a fucking lump of money "

" If you can just calm down, I can explain " Jordan said.

Maya turns her back to him, busying herself with cooking. " What can you explain Jordan? I feel lied to, because I tell you everything about my life, from my galleries, to the commissions, the good and bad. I don't hide it because that's what being in a relationship is all about, two people communicating " she paused, choking back a sob. " But clearly that doesn't apply to you because, you've been secretive about the whole thing "

" I had my reasons " Jordan exclaims.

" What are they? If it's about the hate, I told you time and time again that what matters is the fact that you have so many people that care about you, myself included, you're a vital part of this team and every one knows that so what could possibly drive you to go a place that you yourself criticized " Maya states, attempting her best to remain calm.

" Maya " Jordan sighs, " I had to leave because a lot of things were crashing down, I love this club, and this sport but this season wasn't going to go the way I wanted it to so ... after talking to Jurgen, I realized that I had no place left in the squad, they'd brought in new midfielders, where does that leave me? So I did what I knew was best, yes it's not the smoothes transfer but it's what I need "

Maya sighs, grasping the counter with both hands; her tears rolling down her cheeks. " What about me? "

" I ... " Jordan paused, " I was going to ask you to move with me "

" So my needs are pointless so much that I'm expected to just uproot my life and go to a whole new place for you huh! " Maya nods. " I am just a piece of the puzzle, I get no say in this "

" That's not what I mean by that " Jordan interjects, his voice breaking. " I wanted to wrap this up quickly and come to you so we can talk this through "

" No Jordan " Maya shakes her head, " The proper thing you should have done was speak to me before all of this so that I would not have to find out about my boyfriend leaving to another place through the fucking internet " she turns off the stove, places the knife and storms out of the kitchen to head to the bedroom.

Jordan follows her with a confused expression across his face as she pulls out a bag, " what are you doing? "

" I'm leaving " Maya states, " If I'm not part of those plans you have then I don't see why I'm here, so go ahead, travel and play football but I'm not ready to sacrifice my career just yet "

" Maya, baby " Jordan pleads with her, " please don't do this, don't give up on us "

" Jordan " Maya interjects, with tearful eyes as she said. " YOU! you gave up on us the minute you decided to do all of this on your own so I'm going to give you what you clearly need, the space to play as you wish " she grabs the bag, her purse, phone and car keys. " Just know that I love you, but you didn't consider that at all "

That was the last time she'd seen him, he'd departed to Croatia per the report of the news; and while she was initially angry -- she had kept up with the team he joined which was managed by his former teammate and friend Steven Gerrard.

Two months had passed since their last encounter, Maya had been fully immersed with her newest gallery; titled, Regresa A Mí - the theme of the gallery being heartbreak -- it'd been a global success ending with several well known critics hailing her for blending ancient and modern art styles together; and with a twist of fate, she'd been contacted by some people who work in Riyadh which is the capital of Saudi Arabia, they wanted her to host her next gallery there and while she was hesitant at first, she ends up agreeing with the silver blink of hope that maybe, she'd see him again.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, she; along with her mother travel to Riyadh to begin working on arranging the setting and ensuring that every painting safely arrives, while she was knee deep in working, her mother who'd noticed how her daughter had been working so hard to avoid her emotions which caused her to make the decision that she knew, could either go extremely well or awfully wrong.

Two months felt equivalent to two years, he'd tried to move forward and pour his focus on this fresh start, yet each time he does; he finds himself late at night, scrolling through her social media account to check up on her, he'd seen the photos and news articles regarding her gallery, one painting in particular had caught his attention and in turn tugged on his heart the worst way possible, the painting depicted a woman crying; the woman being her despite her denial but he knew.

He'd convinced himself that she was better off without him, despite wanting to call her, despite wanting to travel back to London and leaving football behind just to see her again; it had been a rollercoaster of emotions that had definitely affected his performance during training, one night while they were in the midst of preparation for their match against Al-Hilal, he was approached by Paulo, his teammate.

" Are you ok Jordan? " Paulo asks him, " You've been off for a few days "

Jordan looks up, and forces a smile. " I'm ok, I just ... " he paused, " I remembered someone "

" Your ex girlfriend? " Paulo asks him.

Jordan's eyes shot up, " How did you ...? "

Paulo chuckles, " My wife is a big arts fan and had shown me the account your ex girlfriend owns, It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together since you like her posts, a lot "

" Yeah " Jordan nods with a sad smile, " We didn't end on a good note actually, she wasn't on board with my move here "

Paulo tilts his head, " She wasn't on board or you didn't tell her directly? "

" A little bit of both " Jordan mutters. " I miss her mate, like a lot! " he chuckles.

" You can see her you know " Paulo said.

Jordan looks at him with a curious look, " What do you mean? "

" She has an upcoming show in Riyadh " Paulo explains, " I got three tickets, for my wife and I, a friend was supposed to come with us but he has something came up, take the ticket and come with us "

" I'll think about it " Jordan smiles, " Thanks Paulo "

Paulo pats his back, and returns to training. Jordan mulls over Paulo's words, debating on whether or not he should phone Maya but opting not to, as he shifted his focus back to training.

___________

Galleries were always a nerve wrecking process for her, to have art crickets from all over the world coming to see your work definitely takes its toll on her; but she was thrilled nonetheless, to grow and become a better artist then where she started years ago; while her mother conversed with people Maya did not really recognize, she retreats to a corner, nursing a drink in her hand while observing her surroundings and that's when her gaze landed on him.

Close to three months had passed and it felt like a lifetime, he looked quite handsome with the suit; and he wasn't alone, he was accompanied by a couple, all three conversing while they looked at one of her paintings; she inhales then exhales a deep breath and was about to escape when she heard his voice call out her name, reminiscent of the first time.

" Maya " Jordan whispers.

Maya turns around, forcing a smile in order to conceal the crashing waves of her conflicting emotions. " Jordan " she breathes out his name with a smile.

Jordan excuses himself, leading Maya to a more secluded corner to really get a good look at her. " Wow " he murmurs, " You look -- wow " he chuckles.

" Yeah, the highlights are a change " Maya gestures to her hair before smiling. " You look good "

" I'm trying " Jordan said with a sad smile. " It's not been easy "

" Jordan I ... " Before Maya could say anything, she hears her mother call for her, and turns to him. " Can I see you sometime? "

Jordan nods, " How about tomorrow night after the match? "

Maya nods, " ok " she smiles, " It was nice seeing you "

" Nice seeing you too " Jordan smiles.

After a rather disappointing match which saw Jordan's side loosing, he looked forward to taking his mind off of the loss by meeting Maya once again, she sent him the details of the hotel she was staying in and he drove to pick her up, taking her to a popular restaurant in the area which he managed to get a reservation in, once they ordered their meals; Jordan takes the chance and asks her, " How have you been? "

" Living through my art " Maya responds, " It wasn't easy but I managed, you? "

" It's not easy either, I miss it there but ultimately I made the proper choice for the sake of the club " Jordan said, " It's what they wanted and what should have happened "

Maya shakes her head, " Somehow I don't believe that "

A wave of silence takes over them for a moment before it was interrupted, " Did you ...? " Jordan trails off.

Maya chuckles and shakes her head, " No, you? "

Jordan laughs, " I can't possibly forget the best person I've known "

She gives him a smile, just as their meals arrives; they eat in comfortable silence, and then Jordan suggests a stroll near the beach, there were no words exchanged between them for the first fifteen minutes until Jordan speaks up, " I want us to try again "

Maya sighs, " Jordan "

" Hear me out please " Jordan pleads with her, stopping halfway. " I love you Maya, so much and while at first I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away ... seeing you now made me realize what an idiot I was for letting you go, so ... if you'll give me a chance, we can give this whole thing a redo, in a proper way this time "

Maya grows silent, she couldn't exactly lie to herself and say she hadn't thought about it, " What do you mean? "

" We organize some form of way to keep in contact, I fly back to England whenever I can, and vice versa and if we can't see each other, calls and texts can work " Jordan said, " I just .. I don't want to let you go Maya "

Maya chews on her bottom lip, debating on how she could approach this before a sigh escapes her lips, " It's not going to be easy for us "

" I know " Jordan nods, tentatively wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her into a kiss that was full of longing laced with pain of not seeing her these past few months, " But we can work through this "

Maya nods, resting her forehead on his; yes, falling in love is not easy but when you find that one special person; even if they break your heart, if it's meant to be, you'll find your way back to them and she definitely found her way back to Jordan.

#hendo #jordan henderson imagine #jordan henderson #jordan henderson fanfiction #liverpool fc #al ettifaq #lfc #Spotify

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prismatoxic · 1 year ago

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I want to know about Confrontation!

(the post this ask is referencing)

that one is the first fic i started writing about these guys:

my intention was to explain how tobias and cam first started their romantic/sexual relationship, and i actually did get into the beginning of the sex but then got distracted by other things, as my adhd self is wont to do

it's from tobias's pov, explaining how he's felt like things have been different with cam lately:

It’s impossible to deny that things have felt different for a while. Of course, that’s just what happens when children become adults; Tobias knew it was coming, one way or another. He just wasn’t expecting the way things have shifted—the way the air around Cameron has become electric, like he’s full to bursting with a sort of energy he’s never had before. Deacon feels subdued by comparison; he’s more mature, now, effortlessly engaging in adult topics and learning a sort of precise control over his emotions. Tobias is incredibly proud of them both for coming as far as they have, but... It’s still strange, with Cameron specifically. Looking back, he supposes it began when Cameron started going to college, which makes some amount of sense. His parents have always been overbearing, and any amount of freedom would be expected to change him. They’ve never liked Tobias or Deacon—efforts to coordinate their sons hanging out were usually in vain—and on top of being resistant to Cameron’s most important non-familial relationships, they’re also, at best, dismissive of the trans thing. A perfect cocktail of underlying resentment that will surely lose them contact with Cameron as soon as he doesn’t rely on them at all anymore. (As Tobias understands it, they're still paying for his schooling.) Living in the campus dorms, Cameron surely feels liberated; he's mentioned in passing how hard it was to get his folks to agree to let him move out in any capacity. He also spends a lot more time here, at the Rivera household, than he was ever able to before. It’s nice seeing him so enthusiastic about life and having fun. It’s nice that he clearly feels safe here. It’s nice that he’s blossoming into a young man. And it’s weird how different his presence feels now, but frustratingly, it’s hard to quantify how or why.

things take a turn after deacon's 21st birthday; tobias takes him out drinking and it goes well. he's been trying to model a healthy relationship with alcohol for his son, but when deacon seems to have taken that lesson to heart, tobias slips up a bit because it's not an active concern anymore. (he's long-divorced and depressed; he's done everything to be a good father, not only for deacon but for cameron as well, but the man is Sad.)

anyway while drunk he manages to wind up looking at porn and that rabbit-hole eventually leads him to cam's, uh, camshow. whoops! he's so worried his son's best friend is like having money troubles or something that he doesn't stop to think about what he's doing until he's watching. then, uh, well, this isn't doing anything but making him feel like a creep.

naturally deacon is at work the next day and naturally cam comes over for a visit. tobias decides making sure cam is safe is more important than hiding his shame.

“So, what, you’re gonna tell me to stop?” Cameron spits, and the words and venom with which they’re said makes Tobias look at him again, stunned. The way Cameron is positioned now, hugging his legs almost defensively with something deeply betrayed in his eyes, Tobias fears for the worst. ...then it clicks. This isn’t about the sexual nature of it, Tobias seeing him in such a state. It’s about control. It’s about how his parents would lose their minds and demand he cease immediately; how they’ve always dictated everything he can and can’t do. Maybe that’s what the sex work itself is about, too. Freedom. “...That’s not why I brought it up,” Tobias says softly, and Cameron seems to relax just a bit. “I’m just worried, Cam. I don’t like the idea of you being backed into a situation like this out of necessity.” He continues before Cameron can speak up again, clearly poised to do so; “But if that’s not what this is, then... it’s none of my business. If it’s what you want to be doing, then that’s your decision.” Cameron watches him a moment longer, and then the tension starts to bleed out of him, replaced instead with what looks like guilt as he curls in on himself. “...God, Toby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, looking away. “You’ve always supported me. I shouldn’t have gotten mad...” “It’s okay,” Tobias assures, pushing past his own conflicting feelings to reach out and gently set a hand on Cameron’s upper back. “I know how your parents are. I should have chosen my words more carefully.” He smiles when Cameron looks over at him again, adding, “Just be safe, okay?”

but tobias makes a mistake as cam opens up a little more about it; he indicates that he actually was in the stream, not that he just realized it was happening. and cam, who's been hot for toby for ages, seizes the opportunity. he's actually a crafty little bastard under the cute surface.

so, you know, mutual attraction (despite tobias's insistence that he's too old for cam) leads to sex. but tragically i moved on right when it was getting good 😔 i gotta go back to it.

#tox answers #toxwrites #toxoc: tobias rivera #toxoc: deacon rivera #toxoc: cameron woods

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walkingstackofbooks · 2 years ago

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Just realised I missed this one out seemingly 😅

DS9 2x12 The Alternate thoughts (I'm rewatching, so possible future spilers)

Quark and Odo's, uh, thing, is so obvious, whatever it is that they have

"You're serious?" "Have you ever known me know to be?"

The switch and bait, I knew there had to be an ulterior motive - yes, Odo, excellently played XD

Ughhh, Mora. He's half treating Odo like a child, half still like an experiment - "Haven't quite managed the ears yet", "Is the suit a suit, or part of you?" - really horrible intrusive questions, aren't they?

Just noticed that Odo's hair is modelled after Mora's...

Mora, Odo KNOWS this station, he KNOWS Quark's motives better than you. As do we - Quark was DEFINITELY hoping this would be a distraction to Odo.

"I integrate as much as I want to", and quite right too

"Tell me about this police thing..." "I enjoy my work as Chief of Security." STOP DOWNPLAYING HIS ACHIEVEMENTS

Oh my goodness, I can't stand him, I genuinely hate him. He's so clearly manipulative and abusive, gah.

As always, Jake and Sisko are wonderful. I'm with you on Klingon opera, Jake. I love how terribly Sisko is justifying why Jake should have to learn it.

"Just because you suffered through all that doesn't mean I have to." "Yes, it does." This reminds me of his conversation with Bashir in Forsaken about the ambassadors - "So now you take the same perverse pleasure in doing it to me" - man, Sisko definitely is consistent XD

I actually can't remember how this episode goes, they definitely don't find the changelings...

Mora bringing up a story Odo doesn't like, directing him to "Tell her", and when Odo does interrupting like he's a child is not how you treat people you love! Or at least it could be in friendly banter but this isn't! It's infantilising and patronising

Jadzia had such a tight, polite face - good for her not showing too much interest once she realises how uncomfortable Odo is.

Oh! Is this the hologram one?!

Lol, that "lifeform" is just those whaddya-call-them metal things you use in primary school with magnets. Iron filings! That's the one.

Okay, so not the hologram one, then...

I've often thought Odo and Julian have a lot in common: I hadn't added complicated parent relationships to that thought but now I kinda want to see Odo being able to talk to Julian about his complicated feelings and having someone who actually understands listen

Sisko again forgetting not everyone has a good dad... It must be nice to be Sisko

Well, I guessed that the being wasn't going to stay there as soon as Miles said "level five security" - if it's highly secure there's gonna be a breakout, right?

Jadzia! I thought she was benched for this episode, but yay, she's back!

"Doctor Bashir wouldn't listen to me and hid my clothes so I wouldn't leave." I love her to PIECES, and I DO like their friendship

Sisko just being like "yeah get to work" XD It's good enough for him that Jadzia managed to escape Julian

"I'm moving in closer. If you run into my wife, don't mention I did this." Oh Miles, that is not healthy communication.

"I'll come home tonight and she'll ask me how my day was and I'll say, fine, honey, how was yours? Sometimes I think she really doesn't want to know the truth, so I do us both a favour and..." Oh Miles, THAT IS NOT HEALTHY COMMUNICATION

Come on Jadzia, you knew how he'd respond to that suggestion.

She did it with such a straight face I'm genuinely not sure if she was goading him or if he's just imagining that

Ughhh that interaction was kind of fine until this monologue tho :( The flirting is fine since they're both fine with it - but why the writers gotta make Bashir so creepy

He's about to be got!

Ooh, no, he got away :D

Even if you WERE right Mora, telling Odo what he thinks is not the way to go!

Yeaaaa, Odo and Bashir sure could have a lot to talk about wrt parental figures who are proud because they see their sons as their achievements, and not proud for their sons' sakes

Mora, talking like that behind someone's back is never a good move. Man, Jadzia is so uncomfortable

No, Mora, Dr Bashir would try to understand!

SHUT UP MORA, THE CREW WOULD NEVER

Fuck you, Mora, turning him against his friends.

I do get that Mora is genuinely worried and concerned for Odo, but he's just bad and incapable of doing anything well

Just because you "gave him more than anyone else in your life" DOESN'T mean he owes you A THING - that is the first step of parenting

Oh I DO remember this episode now XD eventually got there

And now Mora is trusting the crew? Has he finally realised he can't go it alone? Or has he resigned to them "putting Odo in a zoo".

"If maximum stun doesn't bring him down immediately, we set phasers to kill." "Commander." "I know, Major." Oof, that cannot have been an easy order to give.

Self awareness! Finally! Bit late, but we can work with that!

"I prescribe rest because it's hard for a doctor to go wrong with that one." 👍

Odo has never been my favourite character, but I do like him, and this episode is just so heart-breaking. And infuriating. Go away, Mora, forever please.

#ds9 #ds9 2x12 #ds9 the alternate #andi watches ds9 #WSB

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mystical-flute · 5 hours ago

Text

Sands of Time Chapter 2

I was lucky enough to have two gorgeous pieces of art done for the @ygobigbang! This piece was done by Schatten-Light on Bluesky!

Chapter 2 on AO3

Warning: This chapter contains child abuse.

The future empress would end up being a woman named Irisa Kasai, an economics major at Gozaburo’s university, and the daughter of a military general. She was a kind, gentle woman, but she knew the importance of her future position in the world. She would be an excellent role model for the young girls in the world, and got along well with most people, which would help with Japan’s relationship with other countries. As much as he disagreed with his father about how to run the country, international relations was something he absolutely agreed with - he knew it was important to keep sweet with countries in terms of trade and tourism.

The wedding was elaborate, of course, with guests from all around the world - if the country’s leader, or heir, hadn’t made it, other delegates were sent in their place. It had been an excellent way to show the world what the future emperor and empress would be able to do, and Irisa performed beautifully. Gozaburo didn’t know if it was love he felt for his bride, not quite yet but… he was certainly quite happy with his choice to marry her and elevate her status in life.

And that happiness only grew when she blessed him with not one, but two very healthy sons, the same way his mother had blessed his father. With the future secure, there would be no reason for people to question the stability of the royal family, not when another generation was healthy and capable to follow in his footsteps whenever he took the crown.

And he could feel the heaviness of the job slowly beginning to press down upon him. His father had been taking ill more frequently, and he could tell that the doctors were concerned.

“Gozaburo… how are you feeling?” Irisa asked him.

“I’m fine. President Owens is set to arrive right on time, and the chefs have everything prepared and in the warmers or coolers, ah, and mother has promised that she will make an appearance on Father’s behalf,” he replied, eyes rolling over the paperwork in front of him. The President of the United States was en route, and he needed to make sure the details for the evening were completely set in stone.

“That’s not what I mean,” Irisa said, breaking him from his thoughts. “I mean how are you feeling about your father…?”

Gozaburo leaned back against the chair he was in. It was a fair question, really. His father was a great man, and had led Japan for thirty-five successful years. He had inspired people and had given much to the causes he truly believed in, though Gozaburo laughed at what exactly those causes were. However… Gozaburo couldn’t deny that he was excited, eager for the chance to take the crown for himself.

“I just hope my father’s passing is peaceful,” he chose to say. Though Irisa saw more of him than the media ever dared to imagine, there were still some things he kept to himself. “I think that is what he deserves after shouldering the burden of being the emperor for so long. A peaceful journey to the next life.”

Irisa nodded, glancing over at the boys, who seemed to be too wrapped up in their Duel Monsters cards to be paying attention to their parents’ serious conversation. Or rather, Seto was trying to organize his cards and Mokuba was trying to see all the pretty pictures. Seto didn’t seem to care though, and patiently waited for Mokuba to look at them before they were sorted. “Gozaburo… promise me you won’t be too hard on Seto when the time comes. Let him be a boy for a little longer before he has to be a prince.”

Seto was a brilliant boy, excelling at a rapid pace through his lessons, and only eight years old. Gozaburo knew he was going to make an excellent emperor one day, but he had to apply himself, not pay attention to silly games. Irisa, though, encouraged it, and Gozaburo, not wanting to give anyone any ammunition against the Kaiba name, so he would allow the games… for now.

“I promise, Irisa,” he said, giving her what on Gozaburo’s face was a kind smile. “But we are going to have to tell him that his life is going to change soon enough.”

Irisa nodded again and looked over at the boys. “I know. And we will, before… it happens. He will be a great emperor one day. He is so kind and open and so, so smart.”

Gozaburo followed her gaze and nodded. “Yes, he will be a force to be reckoned with when he gets older.” There was something in his son that he could sense - a hunger to be the best, to stand at the top; the very same things Gozaburo felt in himself. He knew he needed to keep that ambition going in his son - there would be no weakness in the Kaiba name. His sons would be strong, and he would make sure that Mokuba was prepared for the throne as well, unlike when Gozaburo had suddenly and unexpectedly been put in this position.

“Your Imperial Highness? President Owens is ten minutes out,” Hobson, the family’s butler, said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Thank you Hobson. Boys? Come on, put the cards away. It’s time to greet President Owens.”

“Papa, who’s that?” Mokuba asked, bored now that Seto was packing the cards away in his box.

Gozaburo forced himself to chuckle. “President Alexandra Owens is the president of the United States, Mokuba. She just took office this year, and this is going to be her first time in Japan. You boys will be on your best behavior, right?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Of course, Father,” Seto said with a smile. “We can let her know all about Japan. Maybe she would like to see the hall of portraits!”

Ah, the past. His son was too much like his grandfather sometimes. When were people going to focus on the future instead of the past? Yes, Gozaburo was glad his photo would hang in the hall one day, but that didn’t mean people had to be dragged through it to look at him. His mark was going to be all over Japan before he was through being the emperor.

“Perhaps she would. She is on a rather tight schedule though. But we can see if she can fit it in,” Irisa said, cutting off Gozaburo’s protest. “Come on, let’s go tell her hello.”

Gozaburo smoothed a hand down Mokuba’s hair, trying once again in vain to tame it. Honestly, where the erratic hair his youngest had came from he would never understand. Both families kept their hair neat and tidy, but Mokuba must have gotten some mutant gene from a long-dead ancestor or something.

Outside, he could see the press already lined up along the drive, waiting for the motorcade to arrive. Luckily, the news of the new president’s visit had overshadowed - for the most part - his father’s ill health. It wasn’t unusual for Gozaburo to greet foreign guests, after all, and since Seto was the heir, it was time that he started learning as well.

“Put on your suit jacket, Mokuba. It’s chilly outside,” Irisa said.

Sloppy dress would not do, so Gozaburo raised a brow at his younger son, who quietly complied and put the jacket on just as the palace gates opened and President Owens’ car pulled in.

“Welcome to Japan, Madam President,” Gozaburo greeted, smiling a little as she bowed politely (it was nice having other world leaders bend to him), and did so in return. “I am sorry my father could not meet with you.”

Claudia Owens shook her head as she followed the family inside. “It isn’t a problem, Imperial Highness. I do wish him well though.”

Gozaburo inclined his head. “My family appreciates that, very much.”

How dire his father’s health was hadn’t made it to other world leaders. Good. Despite his mixed feelings on his father, the last thing the man needed in his dying days was the press hounding him, or, God forbid, hounding his emotionally fragile mother.

“I’m looking forward to what Japan and the United States can do for each other. Right now, I’m pushing for environmental reform and better access to public transit.”

“I believe we can help you when it comes to public transit. Our trains are some of the best in the world,” Irisa said with a polite smile. “I believe Kenji would be willing to help, wouldn’t he, Gozaburo?”

Gozaburo nodded. “I believe so, yes. I’m quite interested in how the U.S. developed technology to suck pollutants out of the air to use for fuel. We can work out some sort of trade agreement, I’m sure.”

Over tea, a deal was struck - Gozaburo’s first major agreement with a foreign leader.

Later that night, Michihito was dead, and Gozaburo's era began.

To Gozaburo, his era meant he focused on technology. Phones became smaller, more portable, and connected to the Internet, an invention not due to Gozaburo or anyone in Japan, but an invention he was happy to take advantage of. Japan flourished, technologically, with high speed internet, robots to help with intricate medical procedures, and drones… Gozaburo quite liked drones. They helped keep an eye on things in Japan, if there were any detractors to his reign, and drones were also innocent enough that whatever Gozaburo did with them, people didn’t question it, because people had drones for a lot of things. Photography, insurance purposes… even scientists used them to track wild animal populations.

Yes, he was quite happy with how drones were helping him keep Japan in line.

He was not able to keep his son in line, however. Seto was a brilliant mind, the top of all of his classes, and Gozaburo had actually allowed him to skip whatever classes he needed if it meant getting ahead but… he was distracted by that damn Duel Monsters game, to the point where he competed against others. Gozaburo had allowed it, and Seto was an excellent player, ranking high and even being the champion of Japan for several years, but he had been thinking about what Seto would need to do for him in order to keep him in these stupid competitions, and Gozaburo had finally figured out what that was going to be.

Seto was going to forfeit his right to choose a bride.

The last thing Seto needed was more distraction, since he was so hyper focused on Duel Monsters, that getting distracted by women would do him no good. He was already in college a year before most people had even graduated high school - the sooner they got his future marriage squared away, the better.

There was a young woman he had in mind, one from a family Gozaburo knew he could trust, from a family that had been taking care of the Kaibas for generations. One more favor would hardly hurt them.

“Gozaburo, are you certain this is the best path forward?” Irisa asked quietly. “Surely there is another thing he can do than you taking this choice away from him.”

“Something must be done. He is already too distracted by Duel Monsters to be distracted by women as well. Besides, she will make an excellent addition to our family, don’t you think?” Gozaburo said.

Irisa sighed. “You know I love spending time with them, I just worry that neither of them will actually love each other.”

Even after all these years, Gozaburo could honestly say he wasn’t sure he truly loved Irisa, not in the way movies and television shows seemed to think people should love each other, but it was something he would never tell her - the last thing he wanted was to cause the family to look shaky on anything.

“Even if it isn’t love, they will build a mutual respect with each other, I’m sure,” Gozaburo said, trying his best to give Irisa a smile.

“Your Imperial Majesty? Your guests have arrived, and Prince Seto is waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase.”

“Thank you Isono,” Gozaburo said. “Tell our guests we’re on our way.”

Isono bowed and quickly left the room. He had only been here a few years, but he was the best of all the guards at keeping Seto and Mokuba in line. Gozaburo was pleased.

“Father, what is this meeting about?” Seto asked. His spine was straight, his chin tilted up just so as a show of his authority, and his hands were relaxed at his side. Excellent. Even though Duel Monsters distracted him, it seemed like it wasn’t permanent.

Or at least, Gozaburo would make sure it wasn’t.

“You will find out in a moment, Seto,” Gozaburo said, gesturing to Seto to follow them into the sitting room.

“Genji, Miaka, Reika, thank you for meeting with us today,” Gozaburo said politely as he gestured in return to their bows of respect. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Genji and Miaka’s daughter, Reika, was Seto’s age, and also in the dueling circles with her cousin, Yugi, though not as prominent. Sure, it was not an ideal match, but the people who already liked Seto due to his love of dueling were bound to enjoy that their future rulers were both duelists, and if there was one thing Gozaburo cared about, it was appearances.

The Mutou family did so, hands folded in laps, but it was Genji who ended up speaking. “Your Imperial Majesties, what’s this about?”

“I have a proposition for the both of you that I think you’ll be very happy with,” Gozaburo began, his lips curling up just slightly. “I propose that we enter Seto and Reika into an arranged marriage, for when they’re older.”

He could see the jerking reactions immediately. Reika’s head snapped over to her parents, eyes wide with fear. Genji’s jaw had clenched and unclenched several times, and Miaka had placed a hand on Genji’s in order to try and calm him down. Gozaburo was a little surprised, honestly - what peasant wouldn’t want to marry into the ruling family? He could provide them with anything they desired, and all they had to do was agree to a marriage that wouldn’t even happen for half a decade or so. Twenty five, perhaps. That was a decent age to get married, and the bride and groom would be adults at that point, finished with their studies and established in their lives.

Seto had reacted to, though to his credit, the only flinching he did was curl his fingers into a fist.

“What - ah, what made you think of this, Your Imperial Majesty?” Miaka asked, her voice a little scratchy, like she was swallowing back fear. “This is rather sudden.”

“I apologize for catching you off guard. However, I believe this is in Seto and Reika’s best interests. Seto will be able to continue his studies and lessons about being an Emperor without distraction, and Reika gets the biggest elevation anyone could ever hope to achieve, and more of a platform for her musical talents. I have heard she intends to major in piano performance once she enters university, isn’t that right?” Gozaburo said, eyes swiveling to the girl.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” Reika murmured, hands clenched so tightly in her lap he could see the color leaching from them.

Gozaburo could see something in her gaze, though it was quickly dropped to her lap, her hands relaxing just slightly so they could return to their pinkish hue.

Calculating, a look he often saw in his son. It could be useful, if it was harnessed correctly. Thankfully she was on their side instead of the side of someone who wanted to bring harm to the Kaiba family.

“Father, may Reika and I take a walk? I would like to show her around her… future home,” Seto remarked suddenly. “I would like to start with the garden.”

“Hm? Yes, yes, that’s fine. There are some details I would like to finalize with her parents anyway,” Gozaburo said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. How strange, it felt like centuries ago, his father had done the same thing with himself and the Mutou brothers, a fateful day that had led to this moment.

Seto rose to his feet and extended a hand to Reika, who took it as she rose to hers, and the two teens swept from the room.

Gozaburo settled back in his chair and grinned. “This is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”

There was nothing but anger as Seto led Reika through the palace to the gardens. How dare his father do this? While he had known marriage was expected of him, and while he knew there were certainly worse brides out there than Reika, having the choice ripped away from him was infuriating. Really, it was just another set of bullshit rules set upon him by his father - rules Seto knew were made especially for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said when he knew they were alone. Isono was giving them enough space that Seto’s words didn’t reach him. “You shouldn’t be tangled up in this mess.”

“Thank you,” Reika replied, her spine was straight, yet her eyes never fully met his gaze. “I take it this was news to you as well?”

He nodded. “Yes, I suspect Father did this due to my involvement with Duel Monsters. He’s tried to stop me from playing for years, but somehow I convinced him it made the family look good. I was naive to think he wouldn’t have agreed without wanting some sort of payment or deal on my end.”

Exerting even that small amount of independence from his father had come at a cost, and he didn’t just mean this current arranged marriage. But if that was what had to be done to ensure Mokuba’s and his mother’s safety, it was a price Seto was more than happy to pay… and now he had Reika that needed protecting as well.

“What happens now then? Your father seemed to imply that I’m not marrying you the second I graduate high school,” Reika questioned.

“Father likes to surround himself with successful people. You will attend your university and get your degree as normal. Where have you thought of going anyway?”

“The plan was Kyoto, but I’m starting to think I should broaden my horizons and go elsewhere in the world.”

How lucky she was to even have that option.

“I’m sure wherever you go, they will be lucky to have you. You have quite the talent.”

Knowing her since infancy helped this whole thing. They had watched each other grow, had gone to the same Duel Monsters events, and he had watched her perform several times for various events put on by the family.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Highness. That is high praise coming from you.”

It was a manufactured response, one he had heard hundreds of times for hundreds of things, which meant he couldn’t be sure if she truly believed in his compliment.

“If you decide to attend a university outside Japan, where will you go?” he asked.

“Julliard might be nice. It’s in the United States. In New York City.”

Ah. The other side of the planet. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to travel so far.

“Then I have faith you will get into Julliard,” he said. “We don’t have to be enemies in this, Reika.”

“This is just a lot to take in right now, S - Your Imperial Highness. It is not a slight against you.”

Seto nodded and gestured for her to sit with him on one of the marble benches his grandmother had installed. “I understand. It’s a lot for me to take in as well. Were you… already seeing someone?”

“Me? No, not at all. Domino High frowns upon students being in relationships anyway, so... You, though, you were rumored to be dating Egypt’s dueling champion, weren’t you? Kisara Al-Malak?”

Seto scoffed a little. “That was just a short teenage fling. Don’t worry, you aren’t breaking her heart by being in a relationship with me.”

“That’s good, I know Yugi would hate to have to destroy her and break her heart further in this year’s world championships.”

He raised a brow. “It’s awfully bold of you to assume Yugi will be Japan’s Duel Monster’s champion this year.”

“The way you dueled last year I don’t think he has much to worry about.”

That was something he liked about Reika, that she could hold her own in conversation with him, even if she was still a little hesitant to interact with him at all given their different stations in life… though, he realized, that had rapidly changed. She was on equal footing with him now, technically. She could say such things without worry that he would retaliate against her except with biting sarcasm.

Unlike his father.

“Miss Mutou, your parents are looking for you,” Isono suddenly said. “They’ve finished their work with His Imperial Majesty.”

There was a look of relief that flickered on Reika’s face, before she rose to her feet, following Seto’s movement. “Thank you, Isono. Goodbye Your Imperial Highness. I suppose I’ll see you soon.”

Seto nodded and took her hand before she was able to step away. “Goodbye, Miss Mutou. And by the way…” He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. “You can call me Seto now. We are to be married, after all.”

He didn’t miss the flush on her cheeks before she pulled away. “Goodbye, Seto.”

When she had followed Isono back inside, he waited until they’d disappeared down the hall before following them, meeting his father in the hallway. Good, just what he wanted.

“Father, may I speak to you?”

Gozaburo paused in putting a cigar to his lips (in defiance to his personal doctor, Seto knew), and sighed. “Very well. We can speak in my office. Fuguta, inform the other guards and our family members that we are not to be disturbed.”

“Yes, of course Your Imperial Majesty,” Fuguta said, bowing and leaving them to walk to the office alone.

Seto knew what this meant - he had to choose his wording carefully unless he wanted another permanent reminder of what happened to those who dared to defy him. Though no one, even Seto, was able to prove that Gozaburo was eradicating political enemies and detractors, the fact that people seemed to be going missing once in a while spoke volumes.

That would not happen when he was Emperor. No, when he was the Emperor, he wanted to look into the future, and more importantly, he wanted his subjects to be happy, no matter what they thought of him.

And he would make sure the family name was able to live on for good reasons, Gozaburo would just be a terrible footnote in history, a nightmare Japan would be able to wake up from.

“Well? What is it, Seto? I have a meeting to get to,” Gozaburo grumbled as he took a seat behind his desk, lighter flashing and the stench of cigar beginning to fill the air. “I will be informing the governors of your betrothal.”

“I will not take up too much of your time, Father, I promise,” he said. The first time he’d done this, his stomach had been in knots, but now it felt as easy as breathing. He was numb to these games, numb to anything Gozaburo could do to him and him alone. “I want to make sure Reika stays safe before she enters our family. With her still being in school and doing public events on Suroguku’s behalf.”

Gozaburo raised a brow. “You know I will see to it that she remains safe. It would do no good for her to be injured or killed before she marries you and produces an heir.”

That had his stomach rolling. The fact that his father could discuss that so casually, like he and Reika were nothing but cattle, made him ill.

“I don’t just mean safe. I mean happy. I do not want you to control what she does or doesn’t do. She will not be the heir to the throne, I am.”

“She will be at your side and it would not do for her to be an embarrassment to our family.”

Seto’s eyes narrowed. “That isn’t fair, Father. You know Reika, you have for years. Her interests are music and Duel Monsters and there is zero reason to believe she would bring harm to the name Kaiba.” There had been no story in any sort of paper about a wild night Reika had - even though she was technically still in high school, social media had blown up recently, and though Reika was active on it, no one had said a bad word about her, and nor had she posted anything embarrassing on it.

His father’s eyes sharpened, and Seto wished he could regret speaking up against him, but he couldn’t. His father was a danger, and he needed to mitigate that danger as much as he could before he was allowed to take the throne.

Gozaburo rose from his seat, stalking his way around the desk until he was standing in front of Seto and looking down on him in the way Seto knew he metaphorically already did.

“Get on your knees, boy. You know what happens when you mouth off to me,” Gozaburo said, taking a long drag of his cigar as he waited.

Seto knew the drill by now and did what his father said. Cigar today, not the belt. His father must have been feeling generous, still in a good mood after obliterating Reika’s future. But as long as Seto could keep Gozaburo’s wrath away from her, it would be worth it. It had to be.

The only sound that escaped him anymore was a hiss as the hot ash from Gozaburo’s cigar met the marred skin of his shoulder. His body, though, rippled in pain, muscles tensing and twitching until Gozaburo granted him reprieve, and stepped back. Seto knew not to move until Gozaburo was back behind his desk.

“Clean yourself up and get back to your studies. Oh, and I expect you to make a speech to the governors after dinner regarding your betrothal.”

Of course he was dragged into this. Still, Seto swallowed back a grit of pain as he slid his shirt and suit coat back over himself, concealing what his father had done. “Yes, of course father. I’ll get to work on it right away.”

Gozaburo’s hacking cough concealed the sound of the door closing behind him.

Isono met him outside, and one twitch of Seto’s head was all the man needed in order to follow him to his room and grab the large first aid kit they kept stowed in Seto’s private bathroom.

Isono was the only guard to know the truth of why it was there. It hadn’t even been there at the start, but when Seto was twelve and got his first punishment from his father (that one had been a belt to the back, not a cigar burn), Isono, then a new hire, had found Seto desperately trying to get blood out of his shirt, unconcerned with the blood that still ran down his back.

Isono had cleaned him up, had made sure to get him painkillers and water, and had promised the soiled shirt would never see the light of day again (it hadn’t, and Seto still didn’t know where it had gone). After that, Seto had known he was the one he would trust the most, and Isono had quickly made his way to being the head of Seto's household.

“Master Seto, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle anymore.”

Isono sighed as Seto discarded his shirt and jacket on the marble bathroom floor. "You should not have to deal with this at all. What could he possibly be angry at you for now?"

"I wanted to make sure Reika would be safe from his wrath. He seemed to think I was speaking out of turn. It's not fair that he thinks he can destroy her future."

"He might destroy yours if you are not careful, sir," Isono warned, ignoring the hiss Seto let out when cool water ran over the burn, washing residual ash away and trying to heal the wound. This was an old routine now, but that didn't make dealing with the aftermath any easier.

"He won't. I already know what my future is supposed to be. He can't do anything without looking bad," Seto replied. "But right now, I want to make sure this whole thing is easier on Reika."

Isono hummed, carefully drying Seto's skin and placing a cold compress against it. "I suppose so, sir."

"Seto!! Do you wanna play Capsule Monsters with me?" Mokuba's voice suddenly boomed through the door to his suite.

Seto cursed and pushed himself up, ignoring the way the compress dropped from his shoulder and the frantic placing of gauze on the burn. He quickly pulled a clean, white shirt on, just in case Mokuba tried to come into the room. "I'm sorry, Mokuba, but I can't," he said, cracking the door open and looking down at his brother with what he hoped was a painless smile. "Father wants me to give a speech tonight. I'm trying to work on it now."

Behind him, he heard Isono pick up the discarded shirt, and knew right then that the compress and remaining gauze had been tucked away.

"Can I help? You have to make Reika sound good you know!"

He raised a brow. "Do you doubt that I will make my fiancee sound good?"

"Sometimes your speeches are boring, so yeah."

Seto rolled his eyes, but opened the door more fully for his brother. "Fine. You can help me work on it."

Mokuba bolted into the room, already chattering away about the speech.

#yugioh #yugioh big bang #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #gozaburo kaiba #fanfiction #sands of time

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