#not pictured: my dripping wet socks and my very wet pants and also my probably bruised butt

[jejciu]

debil ze mnie...... na balkonie położyłem swoją nową słodką nereczkę (saszetkę) z misiaczkiem którą przywiózł mi dzisiaj kurier, bo troche pachniała taką fabrycznością więc chciałem żeby się wywietrzyła.. i przypomniałem sobie o niej dopiero przed chwilą, kiedy rozpętała się ulewa. i na początku nie przejąłem się zbytnio, no bo to tylko nereczka, przecież wyschnie - ale potem przypomniałem sobie, że zostawiłem przy niej metkę w kształcie OKROPNIE słodkiego misiaczka (uwielbiam zbierać urocze metki i używać ich później przy robieniu np. zakładek do książek lub wklejać je do notesików), i oczywiście wybiegłem w tą ulewę na balkon. i powiem wam tak - jeśli macie na balkonie sztuczną trawę, nie biegajcie po niej w trakcie ulewy. bo będzie śliska i nie będzie ANI TROCHĘ wchłaniała wody. załączam zdjęcie metki której niestety nie udało się uratować.

[imnotwolverine]

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

< PART 2 | PART 3 Women and Wine

Summary: Things don’t always go as planned. But Henry has learned that’s quite alright. If anything, it may just make you closer to loved ones. Also, the banana sock wearing princess is her clumsy-as-ever self. 

Word count: 2.178

Disclaimer: Breakup, teenage insecurity, fluff and wet dicks. I mean. In the fluffy awkward sense of the word. 

--

LOVE IS LIKE - Women and Wine

--

‘So far for an outdoor date.’ Aurora scrunched up her nose and looked down at Kal who didn’t pay any mind to the drizzle, nose sniffling through some bushes.

‘Sorry..’ Henry pouted, making her laugh.

‘You know, my apartment isn’t far from here. We can dry off, have some tea? I mean..’ She hesitated, looking back to Henry who got a particularly large drop of rain in his eye.

‘Mmpfff.’ He groaned, wiping furiously at his eye.

‘OH! Are you alright?’

Kal looked up and Henry chuckled. ‘So your initial reservations of not wanting to meet at someone’s place are...gone?’

She shrugged. ‘Drastic times, drastic measures. Come on!’

Kal yapped in agreement and Aurora laughed heartily, the heaven’s cold tears of rainwater not bothering her one bit.

‘Why..?’ The woman who had once kept his heart sobbed, thick tears rolling down her sweet cheeks. Henry swallowed as he clutched her hand a little tighter, her whole body shaking with agony. With every tear on her face he was less sure if he made the right decision.

‘Why don’t you love me?’ Her wine-red lip trembled. ‘Did I..’ She sniffed and burst into another onslaught of tears. Henry sighed quietly. Why did love have to be so hard? With a quick glance he looked at Kal who was lying in the corner of the living room, careful eyes looking back at his owner after he had been told off by the woman - the two had never quite gotten along.

Perhaps that had been a sign.

Henry waited for his mom to pick up the phone. It was Sunday, it was raining in London and he had nothing better to do then..

‘Hello dear.’

‘H-hi mom.’ Henry quickly clicked back to the flower webshop on his browser.

‘Are you alright dear?’

Henry laughed - even after all these years his mother was straight to business when her children called. ‘Mommm…’

‘What?! You never call so early in the day. I can remember the days when you called every hour of..-’

‘Mom, I’m fine.’

‘Alright alright. So there’s nothing the matter?’

‘Nothing. Or well, I just wanted to check if you’re home on Thursday, so your package won’t get lost like last time.’

‘Oh.. OH! Mother’s day. Henry sweetie. You know you don’t have to buy me flowers every year.’

‘And yet I do it anyway, mom.’

Marianne laughed before the line crackled, her voice hushed as she spoke to someone else - probably his father. ‘Alright. Oh! You are too good for me! Also, Colin’s at home. I’m picking up Nick’s cat, since they’re going on a holiday. So no lillies please!’

‘Noted.’ Henry stared at the pictured bouquet on his screen and smiled. 100 roses. ‘No lilies, got it.’

With a confirmative nod he pressed “order”.  

‘And say hi to dad for me!’

Awkwardly tugging at the far too tight and strange looking noose of a knot around his neck, young Henry waited for his father to answer his phone. Nerves were tickling his loins and the more he looked back at the reflection in the mirror, the redder he seemed to get. He had seen his father tie a tie a million times, and yet doing it himself left him suffocating and disappointed in his own abilities.

‘Henry boy.’ His father’s low voice crackled through the bad phone line. He was probably abroad right now.

‘Pa..’ Henry tugged at the tight material around his slim neck.

‘How’s it hanging, hmm?’ -- Colin tried his best to stay hip and cool, but it only made conversations between him and his sons more awkward. Henry silently rolled his eyes.

‘Ehm…’ He cleared his throat, wishing that for once his voice wouldn’t get pitchy mid-sentence. ‘I--’ He pulled at his tie again and managed to let the knot slide out like it had never been there at all. ‘I need your help dad.’

‘Something the matter? Henry, you know you can ask Mr. Mindel for help.’

‘Yea well..eh..I want to learn it myself.’ He squared his shoulders as he looked at his mirror reflection again.

‘And what is..”it” exactly?’ A mix of mirth and pride was heard in his father’s voice.

‘A tie. I’m..I’m trying to get this stupid thing on and ..’ Henry voice got pitchy and unleveled again and he groaned in annoyance.

Colin chuckled and hushed his teenage son. ‘Alright alright. First step..’

With a trained tug at the knot, Henry released the silk tie from his neck. Perhaps it had been a bit over-the-top to wear a suit and tie when going out for lunch and walk Kal with Aurora. But Henry just couldn’t help himself. These clothes just made him feel powerful and secure. Like a modern day armor, shining, sleek and - right now - also terribly uncomfortable and wet.

They had been caught by one of London’s infamous rain showers and had been soaked to the bone. Suit included.

Removing his tie, Henry let his eyes glide over Aurora’s cosy but luxurious apartment, Kal trotting behind Aurora as she ducked into one of the closets in the hallway to fetch some fresh towels.

‘You want one as well, hmm?’

Henry looked up and noted that she wasn’t talking to him, but Kal, the dog happily wagging his tail as he pushed his nose in the fresh towels in her hands. She laughed.

‘Alright then.’ With a quick swoop she pulled another towel from the closet before bumping it closed with her hip, offering one of the towels to Henry who accepted it graciously.

‘Shall I see if there’s some clean clothes that ..fit...you?’ She looked him up and down, obviously unsure whether ANYTHING would fit the colossal form of bulking muscle that was Henry. Henry shrugged.

‘I’ll keep this on if you don’t. Don’t worry.’ He smirked perhaps a bit too temptingly.

They both laughed and Aurora turned around before he could see the blush on her smiling cheeks.

Left alone in the hallway, Henry dried his face and hair, removed his jacket and sauntered over to the living area, which reminded him in a strange way of the 70s decor of some other woman’s home. Letting his eyes glide over the furniture he smiled; large leather couch with a bounty of pillows, Pilea pancake plants, the tiniest tv he probably had seen in his long life and then on the long wall on his right, one absolutely hu-freaking-mongous bookcase.

Turning his attention to said bookcase, he let his eyes roam over the more empty shelves, finding a book he knew well; it once had been his. But there was also her copy. The berry juice ruined one. King Arthur and His Knights. With curiosity Henry opened her berry ruined book, not sure what to find there other than exactly the same exact text. His eye fell on the personal note that was scribbled on the inside. Apparently it had been gifted to her.

‘To the woman who “doesn’t need no knights in shining armour”. Andy.’

‘I eh..oh!’ Aurora shrivelled away as she found Henry. Henry quickly shut the cover of the book, near stumbling back as he tried to apologise for snooping around.

‘I’m sorr-’

‘Sorry!’ She looked away. 

‘No I’M sorry, truly.’

‘No.’ Aurora shook her head and her voice sounded terribly queasy. ‘I’m sorry. Here. Hope it fits.’ She pushed a pile of what looked like a white shirt and jogging pants in Henry’s arms with a quick little glance in Henry’s blue eyes.

Did he fuck it up? Looking with a pained expression at the soft white and grey fabrics in his hands he sighed, forgetting all about his wet clothes and the way a little stream of water was running straight into his butt crack right this instant.

‘I didn’t mean to..snoop.’ He tried, but Aurora shied away even further, making a clear demonstration of turning away from Henry.

‘Aurora? Will you forgive me please?’

Aurora nodded with her head still firmly turned away.

‘Will you at least look at me?’

And then, with the slowest of head turns in human history, one beet red head looked back at him, lips biting to keep a chuckle at bay. Henry frowned, before realising that he had completely, utterly miscalculated the situation. She was not mad at him, she was.. With a slight slip Aurora’s eyes moved back down - before quickly shooting back up and away. So that was it huh? She was trying to look anywhere but to the very clear outline of his …

Dick.

--

So this is why men don’t partake in wet T-shirt contests.

‘Oh my gods!!--’

‘It’s like sugar--’

‘TURN IT OFF.’

‘So sweet.’

‘HEN.’

‘Good enough..’

‘HENRY.’

‘..to eat.’

Grumbling a hand appeared from beneath the fluffed up blankets, searching blindly for the phone that was blaring out happy tunes into the dark bedroom. In the background a shower was heard, Henry totally oblivious to his very displeased bedbug.

Turning off the hot stream of water, Henry wrapped himself in a towel, hair dripping wet as he brushed a hand over his cheek to check if it could do for the moment. Geralt could have a little stubble right? He grinned at himself in the mirror and made for the bedroom, silent feet padding to reach for his gym gear like he did every morning.

‘Baaaabeeeeeee.’ A groggy voice that in no way fit his pretty girlfriend erupted from the sheets. Henry halted his tiptoeing.

‘Your phoneeeeeee.’

‘OH! oh.. Sorry.’ Henry bit his lip as the groggy voice mimicked in horrid echo:

‘All I wanna do is get ye

Body next to mineeee.’

Henry chuckled as the sheets folded back a little so a grabby hand could reach for him.

‘Haha..oh why love, I’m WET.’

‘AS AM I. Now get in here.’ The blindly grabbing hand searched like a needy worm for anything it could attach to, making Henry chuckle even harder.

She truly was atrociously cute in the morning. With a quick flip of the hand he managed to slip back under, making the room echo with a loud squirming squeak.

‘HENRY.. YOu!’

The both of them laughed.

With a little kick in his step Henry stepped into his parent’s kitchen, the rural stone tiled room filled with the smell of fresh baking pastry and female chatter.

‘A rose..’ He pulled one of his hidden away hands from behind his back to offer a rose to his mother. ‘For my dear mom.’

Marianne chuckled and rolled her eyes at Henry’s antics, before smiling even wider when the other hand served an even prettier rose to the brunette with the princess name. Aurora snorted out with laughter.

‘YOU DORK!’

Henry gasped in mock-hurt and grasped for his chest. ‘My heart, my love! Why must thee hurt it so.’

Aurora stepped in and pressed a little kiss on Henry’s pouting lips. ‘For love cometh of the heart and not by constraint.’ She smiled and smelled the rose ‘..for love is free.’

Marianne chuckled. ‘Well it’s from the garden, so I guess it’s free. Can you call your dad for me? Lunch is almost ready.’

‘Why of course I can mother dear!’

Marianne widened her eyes, urging him to move on. Henry laughed and winked at Aurora before he made his way to the back of the house.

‘These men of ours. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.’

Aurora leaned into the kitchen counter and smiled. ‘It takes a lot to make a man. Tis true. But I do think Henry is a man enough on his own.’

‘You do?’

‘You raised him well you -- all of you did.’

‘Two books?’ Aurora frowned as she pulled the books from their pretty packaging. Henry was beaming with a smile from ear to ear.

‘The same exact..books?’

Henry nodded eagerly.

‘Hen..I know I might be a little clumsy, but…’

‘Nooo no. I thought..’ He scooted a little closer to her on the couch, making Kal grumble who had just found the perfect spot atop Henry’s feet. ‘I thought we could read together. On the plane? It’s a long way to Canada.’

Aurora flipped open the cover of the book on top, shrugging that Henry might have a point, before letting her eyes roam over the little note written in the inside of the cover page.

‘Careful with that berry juice, princess. x. Henry’

‘Youuu…’ Aurora moved to jab at Henry, but he managed to reflect her hand with practised ease.

‘Me?’ He grinned.  

‘Oh yes you.’

‘What about me?’ His smile grew wider.

Aurora shook her head then sighed in defeat. ‘Alright then. You win.’

‘I win?’ Henry acted overly victorious and smug.

Aurora’s smile melted away. ‘I..’ She swallowed. ‘-I think I love you. I wanted to say it when I meant it an--’

Henry’s smile dropped as well, eyes widening.

‘You..? You mean..’

‘You have to kiss me now okay? I mean..that’s what princes do when..--’

Henry didn’t skip a beat. 

And good gods did they kiss a lot. 

--

Also: good gods, who in their right minds places red wine on the edge of the couch seating with a pristine looking book like that nearby? Let’s just say the plane ride to Canada only had one copy of Pride & Prejudice - The Illustrated Edition on-board. 

--

End. 

--

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69​ @madbaddic7ed​ @luclittlepond​ @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @hell1129-blog​ @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide​ @elinesama​ @maddyreads14​

@beck07990

[elliyoyo]

Naughty School Girl (Roger Taylor/Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, heavy smut, teasing, semi-exhibitionism, humiliation if you squint, oral sex (male receiving), unsafe sex (hi, please use condoms, people!), and a pretty dominant reader.

Words: ~2.3k

A/N: This is the first fanfiction I’ve written in almost 9 months, so please go easy on me. I’ve seen lots of people saying 80s Roger is 110% a dom, but I beg to differ a bit. This was also directly inspired by the attached picture. Hope you enjoy and much love to all of you!

A/N 2: After finishing this fic, I’ve realized it’s much dirtier and longer than I thought it was going to be in the first place. Enjoy this while I go bathe in holy water :’)

This now has a part two called Good Girl!

“So, what d’you think? I like the length, and they’re giving me tights so I probably won’t have to shave or anything to be convincing…” Roger surveys himself in the mirror of his dressing room. You give him a once over before pushing yourself up off of the couch to see it a bit closer.

“Even if they give you tights, your hair will stick through it and look like a mess, Rog. I’ll give you a hand in shaving, but for the love of God, please do it,” you quietly say, wrapping your arms around his waist once you reach him. He’s still dressed as normal besides the skirt, but there’s something about it that gets you going more than usual.

“What if I catch myself on the razor?” His hands go down to his legs, where he messes with some of the hair for a moment, trying to imagine what it would feel like bare.

“Then I douse your boo boo in alcohol and we move on.”

“That hardly sounds pleasant, (Y/N),” Roger complains with a frown (which looks more like a pout in all honesty), draping a hand over yours on his waist.

“Tough shit, sweetheart. Pain is beauty when you’re talking about maintaining your body 101.” You lean up and press a kiss to the back of his neck as he laces his fingers in with yours.

“I’m gonna need more help than I think on this one, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely, yes. After all, which was of us was actually a school girl?” You drum your fingers over his a few times before pulling away to help him adjust his current outfit to be more realistic. You take his jacket and tuck it into the skirt, unzipping the top a tad so it wouldn’t bunch up every time he lifted his arms. Then, you push one of his socks down towards his ankle more, leaving the other pulled up as it was.

“Any mental notes to keep track of or are you just making me look risque?” He watches your motions in the mirror, eyes following every move.

“The main factor of being a naughty school girl is a little something known as shock factor.” You end the sentence with a loud, perfectly aimed slap of his ass, causing him to gasp and jolt forward.

“(Y/N), what are you doing, that hurt!” He rubs a hand on his ass and takes a moment to attempt to glare at you, but you’re just standing with a smirk on your face.

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day, seeing you prancing around in that skirt and talk about being in tights and— uuugghh…" You roll your eyes, a large grin plastered on your face as your thoughts progressed to what was under the skirt and how you hadn't had Roger in days. "Babe?"

"Hmm?" He had a wary look in his eyes, and for good reason. He knew exactly what was going through your head— a dynamic that you two hadn't really gone back to since he cut his hair because he felt it didn't seem the same.

“Can I take the lead today?” You teasingly press your hand to his hip, drawing small circles with your thumb as you get closer and closer to the small tent in his skirt.

He nods in response, but you want more. You firmly grasp his cock and he lets out a whine, bucking his hips slightly.

“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you, babe.” You innocently smirk up at him, slowly beginning to run your fingers over him through the thin fabric.

“Please, I want you to, (Y/N), it’s been so long since I’ve been on the bottom,” he rushes out, biting his lips so hard it might begin to bleed soon. He meets your eyes in the mirror again and gives you the needy puppy dog eyes that you can’t help but give in to.

“Okay, sit down on the couch and take everything off.” He reaches to pull the skirt off, but you stop him with a shout of, “Except the skirt!”. He nods, going for his jacket instead, slowly untucking it and sliding it off.

You walk over to him once he has taken off the jacket and skirt underneath, bringing yourself down in front of him with your hands on his inner thighs. You spread his legs apart and lightly drag your nails down from his thighs to his knees, causing him to shudder.

“Alright, I’m going to give you exactly what you want, but if you try to mess with the pace I set, I’m stopping. Got it?”

He nods, looking down at you expectantly with hooded eyes. You flip the skirt up and see that he was wearing what was most likely the tightest, shortest pair of boxer briefs known to man, showing off the wet patch on top of a very obvious outline. You grab the waistband and pull them down to his ankles, then kiss a line from his knee, up his thigh, finally planting one on the head of his cock. He lets out a moan and his hands go to instinctively shoot to your hair, but he stops himself with a nearly inaudible groan.

“You look so helpless, Rog. What do you want me to do? All you have to do is tell me with that filthy little mouth of yours, honey.” One of your hands reaches up and cups his cheek, a finger grazing over his lip.

“I… Please use your mouth on me. Please, I need it, it’s been so long since you’ve sucked my cock, (Y/N), please.”

“That’s all you had to do, Roger. Now, you know the drill,” you say before taking all of him in your mouth in one go, bringing your hand down from his face to circle around the base of his cock that your mouth couldn’t reach. You didn’t have the time or patience to tease anymore, so you didn’t bother. Plus, there hasn’t been a day in your life where Roger’s whiny begging didn’t convince you to do whatever he needed, so you got right to it.

He tensed up and let out a loud moan, his knuckles going white with how tightly he was gripping the edge of the couch since he couldn’t weave his fingers into your hair. You bob your head, your hand stroking him at the same pace so no part of him was left untouched at any moment.

“(Y/N)- fuck- I’m ‘nna come soon, please let me come, please…” His face is flushed red, both from the amazing blowjob he’s receiving and from the embarrassment of being so close to climaxing so soon. You pull off and look up at him with pseudo-innocence, running your tongue up the side of him while your hand is focused on the head.

“You want me to make you come? Huh? Do you want to come down my throat?”

“Please, yes, God, I want to watch you swallow all of it,” he whines, finally losing his patience and bucking his hips to try to get himself back down your throat. You pull off of him and completely away from him, licking your lips as you stand up. He looks up at you, his hands releasing the couch as he gives you a confused look.

“Well too fucking bad. What did you just do, sweetheart?”

“I… I don’t know! (Y/N) please, please keep going, I’m sorry!”

“How can you be sorry for something you don’t even know you did? Look at me!” You grab him by his chin and jerk his head up to look at you. There are tears forming in his eyes as he frantically searches his mind for what he did wrong before he remembers what you had said before. “Oh, yeah, that. Want to tell me what you did?”

“I… I bucked my hips when you told me not to mess with t-the pace, but I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just wanted more, I wanted to feel you, (Y/N), I’m sorry!”

“Really? It sounds to me like you’re just being desperate.” You shrug and use your foot to drag his underwear from his ankles so he could widen his legs. “I didn’t want to have to punish you or anything, but if you’re going to be bad, I have no choice, babe.”

“What d’you mean… punish me?”

“You can’t come till I do. And if you do, I’m gonna overstim you until you’re a shaking, sobbing mess. This time you’ll behave for me, right?”

“I promise. I swear I’ll be good.” He goes to reach for you, but you step away from the couch to undress, knowing that he’d end up taking over and screwing you against the wall if he had to chance to hold you.

“Stay there. No touching until I say so. You’ve already been naughty, sweetie, don’t push it.” You take your shirt off over your head and throw it at his face. He lets out a small laugh, knowing it was still his sweet girlfriend underneath the dominant attitude. You take your pants and underwear off as well, before strutting over to him to give him a kiss on his forehead.

You straddle him for a moment and make the split-second decision to give him a moment of freedom during this. You sink down on him slowly while also guiding his hand down to your clit so you could come quicker.

“Go ahead. Like I said, you come when I do, so the quicker I get there…” You lean in, pressing kisses to his neck and ear as you whisper, “The quicker you get to shoot your fucking load in me, Roger.”

He lets out a loud moan at your words and quickly begins to circle your clit with his fingers as you ride him at an equal pace. You put your hands on his shoulders, giving yourself the power to keep riding him instead of having your entire body give out the moment he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“(Y/N), are you close? God, please tell me you’re close to coming, I want to fill you so bad,” he whines out, groaning when you tug his head up by his hair to look in his eyes.

“I am. I’m reeeally close, Rog. Fuck, let me know when you’re close and I—”

“I’m close, (Y/N), I’m close right now. I’m just imagining how tight you’ll be when you finish and how you’ll look with my cum dripping out of you and—”

“If you keep talking like that I’m going to come, babe,” you moan out, not even minding when his grip slips to your waist to push you down in time with his thrusts. He leans up and kisses your neck, desperately leaving a large hickey in his wake. When he begins to leave a second hickey, you feel yourself getting closer and closer. “Fuck, fuck, Roger, I’m going to come!”

“Can I please come with you? Please, fuck, I don’t think I can hold it back, I just want to come, please!” He feels you clenching around him and he begins to thrust even harder, shifting his focus from hickeys and the grip you have in his hair to how amazing you feel around his cock at the moment.

“Yes, come with me, babe! Roger, fill me with your cum like the fucking good girl you are!” At the last bit, his hips stutter and his eyes shoot wide open, so turned on he couldn’t control his orgasm if he tried. He lets loose and lets out a scream that can be described as nothing but guttural and intense. You can feel him coming inside of you and you simply let out moans rivaling his as you feel it drip out of you and pool on his thighs along with the inside of the skirt.

You both take a moment to calm down, him letting some tears run wild and you breathing as if you had just run a marathon. When you were both back to the point where you could talk, Roger gives you a teasing smile and suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

“Good girl, huh?”

“Oh, shut it… it was a heat of the moment kind of thing,” you mumble, cheeks flushed bright red.

“No... No, don’t get embarrassed... that was actually one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard, (Y/N).” He starts gently caressing your hair, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head as you continue to hide your face in the nape of his neck. “I just... I thought I was supposed to be a naughty school girl for you today.”

“Oh, well, would you rather I call you my naughty girl next time?” You lean in to kiss him on the lips, but you’re interrupted by a loud, boisterous laugh from outside the dressing room’s door, which causes you to jump apart.

“If you’d like my humble opinion, I think you should call him your little bitch, dear!” Freddie’s laughing continues and John quickly joins in, too busy giggling to even try and think of a joke to add on. “Brian, what do you think? Naughty girl or little bitch?”

“I frankly don’t care, I just need him ready for costume fittings,” Brian says with a rapid succession of knocks on the door. You and Roger get up and dressed as quickly as you can for two fucked out, still horny people still dripping with a mixture of bodily fluids. Meaning, you took forever.

As you head out the door, you slap Roger on the ass even harder this time and joke, “If I’m acting like this now, just imagine how I’ll act when I see you in the full get up, naughty girl.”

His knees nearly give out at the thought.

[bootyassnodt]

Nocturne - Our kind of love

An angsty, intimate, soft and vulnerable fic, featuring a very wounded Prosciutto, and fem!reader, from one of the first ideas I ever had about him, months ago. Potential trigger warning for blood and injuries. The music is Nocturne No.20 in C-sharp Minor, by Chopin

Your eyes were strained on the clock for god-knows how long. His voice was echoing in your head, as you were mentally replaying his reassuring way of saying goodbye for the millionth time. His usual, cold, cocksure promise of being home by 11 at latest, calling tonight’s hit a low-risk small job, before setting out in the night made your stomach knot to the verge of nausea. It was ten minutes past one and you already lost the sensation in your fingertips from continuously tapping on the kitchen table for the past two hours. 

You were cursing and scolding him mentally in the first hour, like an old wife, it was even comical, and if he could have heard it, you two would have had a good laugh over it. But as time passed, you felt smaller and smaller, your skin colder, your palms clammier, your throat more and more dry as the possibility of him never coming home crept into the back of your mind. It was always an option, he often reminded you despite your constant protest against the topic, this was part of dating a mafia man. A hitman, to be correct, and these times the reality bit into your heart a little harder than usual. Your lover, your partner, your sweet companion of years, the man whose arms around you were the closest thing to heaven on Earth, was killing people for a living. He was nothing more than a very professional murderer in an expensive suit, and he wouldn’t be the first to fall victim to his lifestyle. 

Half past one. He had never been out for this long without letting you know the reason behind it. Never broke a promise, never missed a date, never made you feel secondary in his life. Prosciutto was a good man, or at least good to you, and while you felt like you could kill him yourself for making you feel like this if he turns up alive, in your heart you were already bargaining with whatever god was up there, to bring him home to you safely, in one piece. 

Your mind barely registered the faint scratching coming from the front door, yet you shot up on your feet, only to fall back onto the chair, blacking out a little around the corners of your vision. The scratching became clearer, it was the sound of a key failing to find its way to the keyhole. Like those nights when you hastily tried to open the front door after making out in the taxi on the way home from clubbing all night, only to sloppily make drunken love on the couch and to fall asleep tangled into each other. This memory brought warmth into your heart and power to your limbs, so you hurried to the door with determination. It was him out there, no doubt about it, and a part of you truly hoped that he just went out for some drinks with his team after the job, and got hammered beyond the point of coming home on time. It was very unlikely, still, the most comforting option possible.

As you opened the door, Prosciutto basically fell on you with a tired grunt, his body like dead weight on your shoulders, but instead of the expected smell of alcohol, the heavy, metallic stench of blood filled your senses. As you tried to wrap your arm around his waist, you noticed the wide smear of dried blood on the white door, where he was probably leaning in the past minutes. Your hands were already getting sticky, and your face squirmed in horror when your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, with the off-red stains on your pajama shirt growing more prominent. You tried to lower yourself a bit so that you could match the gaze of your man, who was breathing heavily with his head hanging low.

- Prosciutto, is this your blood? - your voice was weaker than you hoped for.

- Some of it - he huffed, trying to straighten his stance. His right shoulder was unnaturally stiff, and as he tried to support his elbow with his left hand, he groaned loudly in pain, and leaned back onto you. - Okay, most of it.

- Jesus fuckin Christ, and what’s going on with your….

- Tesoro - he said firmly, looking into your eyes. - Bathroom. Now.

You carefully led him through your apartment, noting how his breath hitched at every step, indicating at least one broken rib. The pictures on the wall with that perfect, overjoyed couple looking back at you, seemed to be slightly judging this mess in the dim light. You tried to bite back your tears as you kicked the bathroom door open, and sat him down on the wide edge of your bathtub, carefully removing his shoes, socks and pants. At least his legs didn’t sustain any injuries, which was good news, but as you moved up to take off his jacket, Prosciutto instantly grabbed your wrist with his left hand, gritting his teeth in pain.

- Bring in the scissors from the kitchen - he growled, his voice being even deeper and raspier than usual. - You will need to cut the jacket off of me.

- Cut it off? But… - you looked all over the dark blue, well-tailored worsted wool piece, now fully soaked in blood, remembering the day he first came home in it with a beaming smile, looking like a movie star, ecstatic about his latest paycheck well spent. Tears welled up in your eyes. - This is your favourite....

- Babe - his expression softened, and he gently caressed your arm. - My right shoulder is dislocated, and I cannot put it back while wearing a jacket, and if I try to remove it with my arm sticking out in that angle, I’m afraid I will faint from the pain, or shit myself, or both. And we don’t want that, do we?

- It must be really bad if you are trying to be funny - you let out a dry laugh while wiping off your tears with the back of your hand. - I’ll be right back.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and tucked his disheveled fringe back behind his ear. The mixture of sweat and blood you could taste on your lips from his skin occupied your mind as you absent-mindedly raked through the drawer under the kitchen counter, looking for the biggest, stainless steel scissors you kept at home. It was more like a weapon and less like a tool, and you cannot remember if you or Prosciutto ever used it around the house before.

You knew all too well, how much Prosciutto loved to fix everything on his own, whether it was a dripping faucet, or a wound, or a ripped shirt, even after years of sharing his life with someone like you. Seeing him slumped at the exact same spot you left him, looking up to you with tired eyes, and a telltale expression of him fighting to hide the pain from you, was truly heartbreaking. You have never seen your man like this before, and you really thought you have seen everything from him. 

In the hopes of getting it sewn back one day, you started cutting the jacket along the seams, paying extra attention not to ruin the fabric itself, but the blood seeping out of it under your touch made this task more difficult than you hoped for. Freeing him from the heavy wool garment, you had to hold back your tears once more when you saw his graphite grey shirt also completely soaked in blood.

- The shirt too?

He nodded.

Putting a dislocated joint back in place was a way more arduous task than you have seen in the movies before, and you just did what Prosciutto said, as he seemed way too experienced in the matter. At that point, you didn’t even want to know, so you kept the questions to yourself. You put on some Chopin, as he asked, held his right hand firmly to his body from behind as he asked, closed your eyes as he asked, and kept yourself from vomiting when you heard the wet pop of the joint finding its place and felt your lover’s whole body twitch from the agonizing sensation against you. 

After taking a deep breath and acknowledging the good riddance of the tension, you ran the bath, and took the emergency kit out of the cabinet, sorting out the antiseptic, the gauze, the bandage and some adhesive plaster, before turning back to him.

- You of all people - you started while cleaning the blood off of his skin with a wet cloth. - How the hell did you manage to get this roughed up?

- Work, tesoro. You know how it is.

- Yes, I know, and this is not how it is! - you looked him straight in his ever glistening, bright blue eyes. - Prosciutto, what happened? 

- I got outnumbered - he shot his glance to the floor while exhaling sharply. - The intel was wrong, and I couldn’t use my stand. There were civilians, I had to go in.

- And I guess you were expected to show up, too - he nodded, while you uncovered more and more wounds, the water down there in the bathtub turning red. - One more question, why didn’t you go to the hospital? Or whatever is that back-alley butchery is called where you guys go after getting injured… 

- That was… not an option - he really didn’t like to involve you too much with his job, but you looked at him with an interrogative gaze, and he let out a defeated sigh knowing that he cannot escape. - That is where the job was, actually. Riz got intel that the lead doctor went rogue, giving over medical and stand info to an American gang.

- So you were sent there to clean up.

- Exactly. It seemed easy, the plan was letting Grateful Dead in while I have a cigarette outside, then burning some papers, then picking up a nice amount of cash on my way home to you.

- But there were civilians. Patients? Let’s see... children of crooks in debt, placed there as a bait to distract you?

- That’s my clever girl, give me a kiss - he pulled your chin towards him, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. Prosciutto was there, he was alive, and you finally let yourself relax into his presence.

- So you went in - you continued while wringing the crimson cloth into the bathtub. - Wait, where is your pistol?

- At the HQ, I had to leave it there to be repaired. Don’t ask.

- You were at the HQ and they let you go looking like this? Who was there on duty? Formaggio? Melone? I’m going to flay them alive!

- Calm down, gattina - he snickered, but held his side as the pain from the broken rib jolted through his body. - If anyone was there, they were sleeping already, I just left my stuff on the table with a note. Okay, now let me get up, I need a cigarette.

- The fuck you need a cigarette. With your blood pressure, and this kind of blood loss - you placed your hands on your hips. - Also, they were in your jacket, probably drenched too - He huffed, and shook his head, with a smile spreading on his face.

- All right, let me take a look in the mirror then - he stood up, taking a thorough look at his many injuries, some bullet grazes, some bruises, some cuts, most of them still oozing blood. - Bring in some whisky and two glasses if you may. We are celebrating.

- Celebrating? - You chuckled in disbelief, locking your eyes with his through the mirror.

- Tonight we are taking our relationship to the next level - he said, examining a particularly deep cut on the backside of his ribs. He turned to face you. - Because tonight, my love, I am going to teach you how to stitch up a wound.

It took you a second of blinking at him with hollow eyes. That was just so out of character for him, the man with a longer skin routine than yours, and the man almost ridiculously peculiar about the state of every inch of his flawless body. You decided to chalk it up for the blood loss.

- You really want me to do this? - you grazed your fingertips over his arm. - It surely will leave a scar if you let a rookie like me near your skin.

- Look how deep and nasty it is. Also, I cannot reach it properly. And you know, I actually wouldn’t mind getting a scar from you, it would be a nice change to have one worthy of remembering. Will you be a good girl and do this one for me? - He stepped closer to you, his left hand caressing down the small of your back as he pressed his forehead against yours.

- How could I say no to you - you whispered, and held his face in your hands.

You knew he was bleeding and in a considerable amount of pain, but that didn’t seem to bother any of you, at least not for that one, placid moment. You studied his face as if you still couldn’t believe he finally came home to you after those excruciating hours of waiting, and Prosciutto, well, he was looking into your eyes as if he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

- One more thing, tesoro - he leaned close to your ear to break the silence at last, in a hushed tone. - I know I made you angry. You worried about me, and I bet you were eating yourself alive waiting for me. It’s alright if you are mad at me, but please, do not think I don’t know what is at risk. I know I fucked up tonight, but I will always come home to you, as long as I am able to.

The tears you choked back in the past hours now let themselves flow without a barrier, and you buried your face into the crook of his clavicle, shaking. There was no further need for words, you just stood there, melting into each other’s embrace, trying to protect that little, perfect, safe haven you had amidst the kind of world your love was thrown into. 

Finally, you broke the hug with some gentle pats on his hip, and for a split second you could have sworn that you saw Prosciutto wiping away some tears too. God, he was beautiful. Beautiful, but bleeding, a matter that needed immediate assistance from your end.

- All right carino, let me patch you up - you said in a cheerful tone, turning to the emergeny kit. - I put on that white satin bedding you love so much, and if you bleed through that, I’ll have to kill you in cold blood.

He let out a hearty laugh, as far his ribs let him.

- As you wish, my love.

[squilliamnylander]

we couldn’t fake it | frederik andersen

Note: !!! This is a birthday gift of sorts for my b @imjustateenageloser who’s always ready to thirst over Freddie with me, and who always supports my writing. I based it on some thoughts she added in the tags on a freddie picture reblog, so I hope this is self indulgent for you babe. I’ve loved getting to talk w you over the last month or so, hope you had a wonderful birthday! 

Also, this should be good for readers of all gender identities! Please let me know if I messed up and didn’t catch it. If you reblog this (which I’d love for you to do!) please tell me what you think in the tags, even if it’s criticism - feedback makes my day!

Word Count: 1.8k

Ratings: smut, nsfw, but not as heavy as the last Freddie Andersen smut

You know he’s had a tough week before he even makes it back home. He usually texts you the second his plane lands - always wants you to know he’s safe and sound and on his way home to you - but today is different. He completely forgets to even tell you he was on his way home, and you don’t even realize the team has arrived back in Toronto until you see a peace-sign selfie of Mitch and Matt on Sydney’s snapchat story. He doesn’t call out to you when he walks through the door either, instead dropping his bags in the middle of the foyer and kicking his shoes off without bothering with the laces. He looks completely defeated, broken, with his shoulders hunched and arms crossed around his chest. He’s got helmet hair too, and it isn’t like him to leave the rink without at least showering. 

“Tough week?” and his silence is the only confirmation you need.

“D’you wanna talk about it?” 

He shakes his head, mumbles incomprehensibly before bringing his gaze up to meet yours. The bags under his eyes and the red scratch marks on his neck are complete give-aways that whatever is on his mind is hockey-related. Freddie has a bad habit of tugging at the skin of his collarbone when he’s frustrated with his game, and it keeps him up at night, sending him into a spiral of stress and exhaustion. It’s not something you can fix, not something you can ever talk him out of because he hates talking hockey with you. He likes to keep you away from the office, says you’re home to him, and being his safe space is what you do best anyways. So you drop it, don’t push him on the matter, instead close the distance between the two of you. You reach for his face, trace his jawline, swipe at the tears pooling in his eyes, and comb through the knots in his hair. He still doesn’t say anything, but you feel him lean into your touch, watch his eyelids flutter closed. Your heart swells; at least he isn’t shutting you out. 

“C’mere big boy,” you whisper, and he’s hesitant, holding himself steady, but a slight tug at his jacket sleeve brings him tumbling forward, and he willingly follows you into the bedroom. He let’s you handle him then, dropping his shoulders as you pull at his suit jacket and push back the white button down. He whines when your skin makes contact with his, and it’s the softest, most delicate sound you’ve ever heard from him. He’s needy, so needy, for more than just an orgasm, and you almost want to give up on trying to make him cum so you can just hold him, let him curl his 6-foot-4 frame into your chest while he cries. But it’s been three weeks since you had last seen him, four since the two of you had shared any kind of intimacy, and although it was selfish, you missed him. Missed his taste, missed the feel of him in your mouth, missed the way his long fingers scratch down your scalp. 

You take a second to pull back so you can take off your own clothes, knowing he likes the feel of your soft stomach pressed against his thighs, skin on skin, knowing that sometimes, he just likes to see you, to admire you. He reaches for you, though you’re not sure if it’s because he wants to hold you or be held, and you let him pull you in. He sits on the edge of the bed, bracing is knees around your torso, and rests his head on your ribcage. You breathe deep and slow, hoping he picks up on the steadiness of your heartbeat, and it seems to work as he relaxes further into you, pressing salty wet kisses to the stretch marks that cover your abdomen. 

He starts to move his hands down your back, tucks them under the waistband of your underwear, but you stop him, reach around and drag his hands up to your cheeks. He’s never failed to make you feel good, always loves to see you come undone, but tonight is not about you. It’s about him, about showing him the love he’d clearly been missing. 

“Freddie, lemme take care of you tonight, okay? Lemme make you feel good.”

He looks at you with wide eyes and flushing cheeks, and offers you a small smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes and still feels a little forced, but it’s something. It’s certainly enough to make you believe that he’s going to be okay. 

You reach for the buckle of his belt, undoing it and the zipper of his pants, before sliding them down his thick thighs. He’s half hard already, and you palm him over his boxers as you tug off his dress socks. You can hear his breath catch in his throat, can feel his thighs tense around your body, and you know he won’t last long tonight. He’ll probably be embarrassed about it too, but you don’t care, never will, because this is your boy - your man, the one you love with everything you have - and there isn’t anything he could do that would turn you away from wanting to make him feel like he’s on top of the world. Because in your world, he is. 

You try to let your actions convey those feelings, everything you can’t say to him right now, by kissing up his calves and brushing your fingers through the thick curls at the junction of his thighs. You slowly move back up towards his cock, nice and hard now in anticipation, and you breathe out against his shaft, reach for his hand and bring it to your neck. Freddie loves to hold you steady when you blow him, loves to hold you there so he can face-fuck you, hit the back of your throat just right, but he only takes the initiative when he’s in control, when he feels like he can keep himself together enough not to hurt you. You know he won’t do it tonight, no matter how desperately he wants to, so you take the initiative for him. You trust him, and you want him to know you’re all his tonight. 

He lets out a loud groan when you finally touch him, clenches his thighs to stop them from trembling. You take his cock in your hand, the weight of him warm, heavy and familiar, and tease his tip with your thumb, spreading his precum around his head. Anxious to taste him, you finally bring your tongue to his cock, licking up the underside of his shaft and taking his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue as you go. You aren’t going to tease him tonight - he’s definitely not up for it - and he lets out another whine, one you don’t get out of him very often. The sound encourages you, tells you he’s letting go and giving in to you, so you take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and letting your spit drip down the rest of his cock, slicking him up for your hand. Freddie is thick, and long, and you can’t fit him completely in your mouth - though not for lack of trying. So you wrap your hand around the rest of him, pumping slowly in rhythm with your mouth bobbing up and down. You keep a slow and steady pace, focusing on the musky taste of his cock and the grunts and groans spilling from his mouth. 

Knowing he’s close, you reach up with your other hand to roll his balls between your fingers, nails scraping the soft flesh of his inner thighs, and look up to meet his eyes. And it’s a beautiful sight for Freddie, almost too much, almost enough to send him right over the edge, the way his cock slides in and out of your mouth, the sound of your tongue smacking against his skin, the sound of your breath catching every time he hits the back of your throat. Danish expletives spill from his mouth, and he starts to really tug at you, one hand around your neck and the other in your hair, trying to pull you as close to him as he can. 

He fixes his gaze on you, slides his hand up from your neck so he can cup your cheek, and his thighs quiver around your shoulders, spasming every time he lets out a groan. You keep up your steady pace, and as you had expected, it’s not long before he’s releasing into your mouth, hot spurts of cum that you swallow as he lets himself fall back onto the bed. You keep sucking at him until he’s dry, and then keep your mouth around his length until he goes soft, kneading your thumbs into the tense muscles of his calves. You keep it up for a another minute, before he’s pushing you away instead of pulling you in, whining as before, in a way that sounds almost like a sob. He’s overstimulated, from the sights and sounds of being away for so long, and from your touch, so you give him some time, releasing his cock from your mouth and moving back to his taught muscles. You spend some time kissing his legs, dragging your lips down his inner thighs, swiping your tongue across his knees, sliding your nose around his calves with butterfly kisses, until his breathing finally slows down. He sits up first, taking a moment to admire the view of you on your knees for him.

“Babygirl,” he finally mumbles, and he lifts off the bed, standing all the way up, reaching for your hand and pulling you up to your feet. He bends down to kiss you then, cupping your cheeks, slow and soft, tasting himself on your tongue. “I love you,” you say when he pulls away. 

“Thank you,” he whispers back. offering you a small smile that finally reaches his eyes and illuminates his cheekbones. You laugh at that, which is unfortunate, because with your head tipped back and your eyes closed, you miss the look of utter adoration that graces his features, miss how he finally looks calm, finally looks home.

And when you two finally fall into bed, underwear completely shed, he does curl up into you, making himself as small as he can so he can fit into the curves of your body, hands reaching around to cup your ass. And it’s okay that you missed the looks of love, it’s okay that he hasn’t said much since he got home, because what he whispers into your hair as you fall asleep is the only thing he really needs to say.

“You’re like home to me, y’know.”

“Mhmm,” you mumble, “glad you always come home."

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

My Rainbow

Warning: language, Fluff, fingering, foreplay, overstimulation, smut ( always wear your helmet to war)

Pairs: Levi x reader

Notes: huge fan of Levi thought I’d make this sorry if it’s trash. Look @sasukexme15 look I finished it for you yay.

Summary: Someone from Levi’s past requests a transfer to his squad. How could he say no.

(Y/N) (L/N), Levi hadn’t heard that name in so long. Last time he saw her she was 12 years old, last time he saw her she was pouting cause she couldn’t come along she was too little at the time, last time he saw her Farlan and Isabel were ...alive. It was the day he joined the Survey Corps, he never looked back. Now here she was, on paper at least, requesting a transfer to his squad. Of course, he was going to say yes. I wonder how much she’s changed?

-

Not much Levi thought.

He heard her giggles as soon as she arrived Eren and his friends surrounded her as soon as she arrived hugging her and asking questions. Levi couldn’t really see her with everyone surrounding her. But he could see the ribbons that tied her hair, by the looks of it she was 5′1. He could smell her sweet candy-like scent even through the strong musk of men. He could hear her angelic like voice even through the loud chatter of idiots, But even so, they were really distracting.

“ HEY, NEW BRAT FOLLOW “ Levi said he didn’t even see if she was following as he walked all the way to her room. ”This is your room. It’s filthy clean it by tomorrow night. Dinners in an hour. I’m sure one of the other cadets will explain how things work here. ON the field in the morning 7 sharp no-” Levi turned around getting ready to leave her in her new filthy room when he was attacked with a hug.

“I waited for you. I waited for you every day but you never came home. Then I- I saw you in the paper  ‘ Humanities Strongest’. I couldn’t believe it I thought you were dead but ... you just left me instead” (y/n) tried to pull away from Levi he pulled her back in and squeezed her tight.

“I didn’t mean to I didn’t want to leave you. We, Farlan, Isabel, and I, we got caught by the Survey Corps and Erwin forced us to join. I didn’t want him to find out about you so...I didn’t go back I couldn’t. And I’m sorry  I’m sorry I left you alone. what I did was unforgivable and you don’t have to forgive me....but I am your Captain so you're still going to have to deal with my shit on a daily basis.” Levi gave her a quick forehead kiss, the only affection he’s ever shown anybody ...ever, and let go of her “ dinner in an hour. Also, this never happened”.

(y/n) giggled as she watched her new mini Captain strut down the hall.

Turning to her new room (y/n) let out a huff he was right this room was filthy. Unfortunately over the years (y/n) had picked up Levi OCD which meant she couldn’t sleep or eat until this room was spotless. This was going to be a long night.

-

“You have to eat,” Eren said as he dragged (y/n) to dinner

“ But my room is filthy and I haven’t even made a dent in cleaning yet” (y/n) yelled struggling against Eren

“you can clean after you eat, (Y/N)” Armin said trying to help Eren seat her down. She really wanted to clean. All eyes were on them as they tried to handle her everyone was laughing. Having seen enough Mikasa got up and dragged (y/n) to the table “that filth isn’t going anywhere so sit and eat” she said, 

“actually bacteria grows very fast special in warm temperatures and it’s warm in here”.

Levi fought the urge to smile as he hears (y/n) go on and on about germs. He was happy to see that everything he taught her had stuck after all these years. He was also curious to see if her cleaning had improved, it was horrid when he left.

Dinner had gone by smoothly Eren and his friend explained Levi’s rules to (y/n) and convinced her to finish her cleaning tomorrow, much to her dismay. She was also filled in on Eren’s Titan abilities and what she missed after being separated during the Breach in Trost District. She really enjoys being with her friends. She had been away to long.

-

After dinner, Levi had requested (y/n) come to his office after she finished cleaning her room. He knew she wouldn’t come until it was done, he was a bit proud that he influenced that.

Levi nervously waited for (y/n) in his office. She had grown so much from the little girl he had known to follow his shadow. She was nearly a woman now and he was upset to say he was attracted to her. But she was still entirely too young he shouldn’t be having these feelings about her he was too old and she didn’t have the same feelings for him.

Fuck.

“ Captain Levi it’s me, cadet (y/n), you requested  me after dinner?” 

In a panic, Levi jumped up and began to fix himself and take a few breathes controlling himself. “come in”

(y/n) came in and closed the door behind her stepping in front of Levi’s desk. She looked around his office.

He had a couch on one wall and two bookshelves one on the wall across from the couch and the other on the wall next to the door. She couldn’t fully see from where she stood but it looked like he had a good selection of books, he even had a recipe for tea book. His desk was dull a stack of paperwork no photos or homemade gifts decorated his desk like others. It seemed lonely.

Levi notice (y/n) looking around his office and gave her time to look because it was her if it was anyone else he would have called them out on it and probably punished them. He noticed how her stares lingered on his desk.

“What, Brat, you don’t like my office or something” he playfully asked 

“No that’s not it. Your office ...your desk it seems so lonely and dull. You should really add some color to this place...Captain sir” (y/n) said saluting once again.

“ suppose you’re right. What do you think I should add “ 

(y/n) started thinking getting comfortable and taking a seat on the couch.” I’d say some flowers but you aren’t really a flower person, maybe a drawing or picture of something or someone important. Even a pencil holder would be nice.”

Levi chuckled and got up to take a seat next to her. “you haven’t changed at all. Still trying to add color to my life.”

They both leaned back into the couch Levi put his arm behind her.

“Well, roll life consisted of Black and red.” Levi looked confused “ Black as in bad things and people and red as in ......” Levi understood she didn’t have to finish.

“I also have white in my life. White as in good things like tea and good people ... like you” they both leaned into each other.

“you think I’m white”

“no actually you’re more like a rainbow” his lips hovered over her 

“A rainbow. Yeah I like the sound of that” they were both whispering now 

“my rainbow” Levi said and kissed her softly.

Levi’s lips were soft and gentle something she did not expect. His hands traveled but nowhere inappropriate just to her back to push her further into this kiss. The kiss didn’t last long but never the less it was sweet, gentle, and everything else she wanted it to be. With who she wanted it to be.

“Who knew a rainbow could taste so sweet” he rested his forehead against hers.

“Captain?” he groaned and let his head fall to her shoulder “Levi?” 

“yes” he squeezed her tighter 

“why?” 

“because I want you”

“why?”

“I don’t know yet actually. I just do. Maybe I’ll know later. But I’ll make sure to tell you when I figure it out.” Levi kissed her again this time harder

“Why don’t you know?” (y/n) asked pushing away from the kiss

“because.... theirs just too much to love too much to tell. I can’t give you anything specific right now.”

“then make a list” she whispered in an innocent yet sexy slur in his ear pulling him closer.

A shiver runs down Levi's spine as and he growls in her ear.

“I- I love how you listen you’ll what I say when I say without hesitation. You’ll submit to me without question” Levi pushed her down on the back of the couch put her hands above her head and tied them together with his ascot.

“I love your lips and the words that come out of them. Lips. so soft words, so innocent. I just can’t help self” Levi forced her mouth open and kissed her hard letting his tongue explore her mouth as she simply didn’t want to fight back. (y/n) moaned into the kiss. She blushed when he left her lips.

“I Love these.....legs. You’re as short as me” he chuckles “these long beautiful that walk in away just to drive me insane” He took off her shoes, socks, and pants and kissed his way up her legs. She squirmed as his lips moved all over her.

“I Love this stomach. I may have plans for it in the future” He ripped off her shirt and kisses up her stomach. she moaned as the button flew across her room.

“I love these swollen breasts. They’re so soft” Levi removed her bra and massage her left breast as he nibbled and sucked on her right nipple. Oh, what he had in plan in the future for these breasts. (y/n) bit her lips to hold back the scream that was trying to get out.

“ I love oh do I love this” Levi moved down to her panties he kissed her through them. (y/n) moved her head so that she was moaning into the couch cushion.  He kissed, licked, and sucked her through her panties he had her squirming and arching into his mouth she became wetter and wetter. 

“more please more” (y/n) moaned quietly against the cushion, as a result, her not so good begging he slowed down his pace. She began to whine and squirm more. Levi removes her panties.

“oh please, please, please”

Levi hovers over her dripping wet pussy “I think you can do better than that” he says breathing on her.

“Levi please oh please Levi more please more I need it I need it so bad I need you”

“louder”

“s-some one m-might here I-I-”

Levi gave her long yet quick lick “Louder”

“PLEASE OH PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE  I NEED IT I NEED YOU PLEASE MORE PLEASE” and louder she got.

Levi smirked as he dived in. Flicking at her clit he listens to her moan and holding her down by her torso with one arm as she arced. Slipping his tongue into her a tasting her walls. “oh my god” (y/n) bite her lip still trying to hold back her moans. Levi didn’t like this. Take one of his digits he slips it into her and curled it against her walls.

“Levi”

“You taste delicious. I love your taste I’d never get tired of it”

Levi crawled up her body and kissed her allowing her to taste herself on his lips. she moaned against his lips “I want you ...please”

With a nod, Levi got up. (y/n) whimpered as she watched him go to his desk and....organize his paper?

They were just having an intimate and very physical moment and he put it on hold to do some fucking paperwork. (y/n) was laid out across his couch naked in an extremely vulnerable position just for him and he was doing FUCKING PAPERWORK. He was actually sitting down at his desk and doing it. 

(y/n) sat up real and tried to remove the ascot that held her hands together. She guesses she wasn’t that important to him. It hurt to think he could do away with her so easily and just like that.

“what are you doing,” Levi asked not even bothering to look up from his paperwork 

“I..I-I’m going b-back to my room.” (y/n) was still struggling to get out of the knot 

“I’m not done with you” Levi stacked up his paperwork and put it in his drawer  clearing his desk. Levi stood up and took his jacket of placing it on the back of his chair. He unbuttons all his buttons on his shirt exposing his chest. “you think I was done with you. no, no, no I just had to clear desk didn’t want to have to redo my paperwork” Levi picked her up from the couch and set her on his desk he removed the ascot from her wrist he separates her legs. He undid his pants releasing his cock from the stressful tightness.

“ Play with yourself” she didn’t move, “I said play with yourself. come on entertain me. Do you instruction guidance.” Levi notice how she began to blush and look down  “you’ve never masturbated before, have you?” she shook her head no  Levi laughed 

“well guess I have to teach you”.

Levi took her Left hand and guided it in pleasuring herself. Levi whispered dirty things in her ear which got her wetter and made her moan louder. After a moment Levi stopped whispering in her ear and guiding her hand and just sat back and watched her. Even with him just watching her it turned (y/n) on like a flame.

“Stop,” Levi said once he noticed her reaching her climax she immediately moved her hand and cried out she closed her legs and shook from the climax that never came she was literally crying for pleasure. 

Let his cock out of his pants Levi lifted her off the desk and on to his lap. She straddled him and desperately tried to grinded against him.

“you’re pretty desperate for a virgin” (y/n) stopped all her movements “I’m not even in you yet and I can tell. It wasn’t that hard to tell. I’m your first dirty kiss too. You want to know how I know?

You’re blushing too much for this to not be your first, you’re moaning like you don’t even know how to control yourself, but do you know what they biggest clue of all was, behinds how you clenched around my tongue and fingers, .....that was your first time touching yourself I’m surprised you stopped when I said so you looked like you wanted more. Do you want more?” 

(y/n) nodded more hesitate 

“yes, the words do you want more? I could give you more. Just tell me?”

“ Yes please, I would like more. Can I have more?”

“yes, you can more, my lovely rainbow”.

Levi lined himself up with her entrance and moved it against her slit and clit. Slowly he pushed inside of her mouth opened up in a silent scream tears left her eyes as she clawed at his shoulder. When he finally bottomed out in her she was shaking and crying nails digging into his shoulder. Levi held her close and whispered sweet things in her ear as he held himself back. God, she was clenching on to him so hard he just wanted to pound her but he could this was (y/n) he was going to take his time with her. 

It was about a good 10 minutes before (Y/n) gave leave the okay. He started off slow she still cried but every time he stopped she beg him to move

.” Please I-I need j-just please don’t stop”

“if it hurts if you can’t let me know just let me know” Levi kissed her neck as he spoke against her skin. He wants to please her not to put her in pain he wants to make her feel good and give her a good experience. Then again he was making love with her in a chair this wasn’t so romantic.

Levi lowered her on to his cock very slowly and then lifted her he continued to do this thrusting into her repeatedly her whines and whimpers soon turned into moans and cries of pleasure. 

Levi began to thrust upward as (y/n) took control of her own and started bouncing on him.

“L-Levi I - I - ah ah” Levi knew what was happening her felt her clench around him. Levi lifted her up on to the desk and put her legs on to his shoulder. His thrusts were deeper than before she screamed as he hit her G-spot over and over again.

“L-L-Levi uh ah I...oh no oh” (y/n) being the innocent little virgin she was didn’t know what was happening with the feeling in the pit of her stomach she had never experienced a climax before. Levi, on the other hand, knew what he was doing he knew why she was screaming and crying.

(y/n) cried out his name and arched her back as she reached her climax. Levi had yet to reach his climax and continued to thrust into her slob like.

“Levi” (y/n) whimpered softly but he did not hear “

“L-Levi” she tried louder as she began to tremble under him from overstimulation. When Levi finally came she was basically spacing out all over his desk she wasn’t even their she was off in cloud 9. She couldn’t feel her body she felt like the sky. She was entirely somewhere else.

When she finally came back down to earth she was lying naked in an all-white bed a sheet covered her body. (y/n) looked around and saw Levi kneeling with his head on the side of the bed his hand in her hand. She gave it a squeeze and his head shot up. 

“Are you okay? I shouldn’t have - I lose control I'm sorry”

“It’s okay I loved it ... I love you”

“well, I’ve already made a list for why I love you” Levi leaned in a kissed her softly.

But a soft kiss turn heated as (y/n) slipped her tongue in his mouth and her hands moved to his hair. 

“No no you’re still recovering from round one Brat. How about you learn to walk again before we go for another round to” (y/n) blushed as he found out her plan 

Horny little bunny

“ Rest now My Rainbow. I’ll be in my office next door ” Levi kissed her forehead and tucked her in 

“where are you going?”

“I’ve got to finish some paperwork”

FUCKING PAPERWORK 

Request for tags or future stories open to anything (within reason)

@sasukexme15 @sexysamsungl @totallyweirdsam

[ask-pulligan-blog]

First Date

Finally finished with the story suggested by @killdogaan here is the rest of the first date scene! Story from INK BLOSSOM AU I hope you like the rest of it! 

After weeks of swiping left Peggy finally found a match on one of the many dating sites, she’s tried out. Today was the first date between them and was nervously getting ready. Fumbling all over her place stubbing her toes and running around frantically getting ready. Smiling wide and excited feeling the butterflies swarm around her belly Peggy goes to take a cold shower hoping it calms her nerves. After turning off the water and putting the towel on her body and hair she hears a knock on the door. Confused because she wasn’t expecting company Peggy rushes over to open the door. Her eye light up seeing Hercules standing with a bouquet. Holding the towel up with one hand she uses the other to pull him in. “Hercules Mulligan! Just the man I needed!”

Lifting the bouquet of flowers in greeting Hercules barely got a word out before he was yanked into the apartment. “Can I ask why-” he turned around to face her and turned red at the sight of a naked Peggy, with only a towel to maintain her modesty. “Oh, whoa, okay, um,” Herc fumbled over his words then realizing he should stop staring like a creep, averted his gaze and held up the flowers for a shield. “Petunias?”

Not acknowledging his tomato face Peggy takes the flowers, “They look lovely just as all the flowers you bring do.” Putting them in a vase with water she returns and grabs his arm to lead him to her bedroom talking along the way. “I have a date tonight and need the help of your amazing taste. Can you make me irresistible?”

The farther Peggy pulled him into the apartment the farther Hercules sunk into the friend zone. Nevertheless, he plastered a smile on his face to mask his simmering jealousy as he let her guide him into the bedroom. “Ah, sure! Don’t know what about jeans and regular t-shirts makes you think I have great taste, but I’ll do my best.”

“Pshh, Herc we’ve been friends for a long time. I know you like the back of my hand so don’t play that game of pretending you have no taste.” Once in the room, she opens the closet pulling out a sunflower printed vest with a black mini skirt, “Now before you say anything it gets better!” Smiling like a kid on Christmas she flips a mini switch making some of the flowers petal light up. “Perfect right!”

Hercules stood silently; watching the rhythmic blinking of the vest’s lights in shocked horror. He looked over at Peggy with grave seriousness, “Who hurt you?”

Giving a clueless smile she tilts her head at the question. “What do you mean? So I’m taking it you like the sweater!”

“Peggy,” he put a hand on her shoulder, “sweetheart, no” Taking the vest, Herc tossed it over to her desk chair before he ventured into the closet. “You can’t show up to a Tinder date looking like a cross between a PTA mom and a minor with a fake ID.”

“Hey!” Pouting as she watches the vest fly in the air Peggy puts her hands on her hips. “I thought that was a great vest.” Getting defensive she straightens her back letting the towel slip a bit.

Tsking in disapproval, Hercules selected a few tops and bottoms and laid them on their bed. “Not if you want to knock them off their feet. Also-” glancing over at Peggy he stopped mid-sentence as his face heated up again. “Uum,” Herc quickly looked back down at the clothes, “do you need me to leave so you can put a robe on or… something?”

Her face softening she sighs, “You’re right, I guess that wasn’t the best outfit.” Looking over the choices she picks up a yellow spaghetti strap dress and holds it against herself. “I think I’m going with this one, what do you think? And you don’t need to leave it’s quicker if you stay in case it isn’t perfect. You can cover your eyes but Herc, you’re my best friend I trust you.”

Herc gave another forced smile; internally tending to his wounded ego. With a low sigh, he sank down onto the edge of the bed. “Friend or acquaintance, I’m still a guy with a libido,” he chuckled halfheartedly to himself. Moving on from that he lifted his head and looked at the dress she was holding up. “Looks nice, but is it a casual date or a fancy one?”

“Well, I think a more casual date, he didn’t really give details just a place to meet.” Putting the dress down she plops next to Herc on the bed putting her hand on his arm, “Yeah but come on Herc, it’s not like you would actually date me.” Scoffing she looks down with a strained smile. Then quickly looks up, “so the outfit, should I try it on or something else? “

Honestly, he just wanted to come right out and say it. Just confess how he’d love to date her and how he’s had a crush on her for a while. But considering he was helping her get ready for a date, Herc didn’t think now was an appropriate time. Giving an equally strained smile, he elbowed Peggy playfully as he turned to look at the pile of clothing. “I don’t think your date would appreciate me stealing his date away.” His hands landed on a crop top and black jeans, “How about this?”

Smirking a bit at the playful attitude Peggy rests her head on his arm. “That is probably the one, and yeah but at least I know a date with you would be fun, who knows what Thomas Jefferson is going to do.” Getting off the bed Peggy goes to her drawer and slips on some black panties along with a pale yellow strapless bra. Throwing the towel on him with a laugh she takes the top and pants putting them on. “You can take off the towel and tell me what you think.” Fiddling with her fingers as she stares at him awaiting an answer.

Hercules jumped a little in surprise, grabbing the towel out of reflexive habit but leaving it over his face. “Hey!” He laughed at the unexpected move, “I don’t get to peek? Having a damp towel in your face isn’t the best y’know.” After waiting patiently, he finally dropped the towel with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Finally, give a guy a warning next time will you Peg…” Herc trailed off as he looked her up and down.

Chuckling she shakes her head then mumbles under her breath, “I wish you’d do more than peek sometimes…” Smiling awkwardly as Herc eyed her down Peggy blushes while rubbing the back of her neck. “Geez Herc, you’re making me feel like I’m an item at a grocery store with how hard you’re checking me out.”

The pun brought him back to reality, and Herc laughed to cover up the awkwardness. “That Thomas guy won’t know what hit him. You look amazing.” Quickly gathering the stray pieces of clothing, he put them back where they belonged in the closet. “Need any help doing your hair or anything?” Even though he had fulfilled his purpose, he’d quickly latch onto any reason to stay a little longer.  

“I think I’m just going to blow it, but if you want we can walk to the plaza together. Scope out the guy and then talk about it later with some cookies.” Taking the towel off her head Peggy lets her hair fall down dripping on the floor, using the towel to try and dry it. “Unless you have to go to the event already.”

His lips curled into a smile as Peggy let her wet hair down. It was a cute look, messy and like a cute wet dog. “I don’t meet up with my friend until two, but I should have time for cookies and gossip later.”

“Perfect!” Moving to the bathroom a blow dryer is the only sound throughout the apartment. Once done with her hair and makeup Peggy goes back to the room jumping on Herc. “I’m very excited! It’s the first date I’ve had in awhile. Did you want to see his profile?” Not waiting for an answer she pulls out her phone showing him while still laying on top.

Herc grunted when Peggy landed on him, shifted so she was laying comfortably and he could see the phone. His eyebrows raised when he saw the guy’s profile picture, which was 90% curls and 10% face. “Damn, his hair’s bigger than my bank account.”

Rolling over so she’s on her back Peggy laughs, “Imagine how much he spends on hair products? But hey, it should be fun playing with his hair, bet it feels like a cloud!”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, “Hair like that takes time, he probably won’t let you touch it in case you mess it up.”

“Ha, I bet he’ll let me touch plus I like big things so I’m on a mission to play.” She gives him an eyebrow wiggle smirking.

An eyebrow raise was all Herc gave in response, which was pretty good considering how well he managed to mask the surge of jealousy that suddenly hit him. “His hair’s probably the only big thing.” He gave an innocent smirk back, then got out of bed. Stretching his arms above his head, he turned back to look at Peggy. “Ready to go? Don’t want to keep Mr. Big Hair Jefferson waiting.”

Quickly moving out of the way so she won’t tumble Peggy looks at him shook. “Oh, I don’t see your hair anywhere near as big as his.” Then lays out on her bed pretending to nap, “just five more minutes.”

That was a fair point. Herc shrugged, “I make up for it in other areas.” Moving down to the edge of the bed, he grabbed hold of Peggy’s ankles and started to pull her down towards him. “Nope, five minutes turns to ten, ten into fifteen, fifteen into half an hour,” he nodded towards the wall clock that read 1:23, “and next thing you know, you miss your date.”

Letting herself be dragged towards him Peggy looks up, “You know, when I imagined this I thought the circumstances would be different, but I’m okay with this.” Still surprisingly calm she takes a look at the time and immediately switches over to panic mode.”Oh no! The date is at 1:30 we need to hurry! Go faster Herc!”

Rolling his eyes Herc slowly starts tickling her foot, causing Peggy to burst into a fit of giggles squirming around to be free. “It’s not my date Pegs, plus you still need shoes.”

Having enough she taps the bed hoping for some mercy, “Okay, okay I’ll hurry! Can you please get my lucky sunflower clip and I’ll put on some shoes.” shaking so he let’s go of her legs Peggy goes searching for socks, making sure he left the room she puts on a pair of black converse running out before he could notice. “I’ll start walking! Make sure to lock up!”

Not waiting Peggy starts speed walking away, Herc was about to say something but hears the door slam. Grabbing the clip he moves to catch up lightly jogging to finally meet her. “You know for someone with short legs you sure do move fast.” Slowing down he transitions to a casual walk while Peggy keeps her fast pace.

Once arriving at the plaza down the street Peggy takes a breath panting a bit, “Huh, I guess I’m early,” wiping the little beads of sweat off her forehead she smiles at Herc. “Can I have my clip? Need it if I’m going to get lucky tonight.” Winking she playfully nudges her elbow at him. Handing over the clip Hercules forces another smile hating what she’s implying.

Cheek twitching a bit he takes a small breath and gives Peggy an adoring look. Moving in front of her he puts on the clip, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t need it to be lucky, you’re beautiful and charming I don’t think he could resist even if he wanted to.” Staring into her eyes for a second longer than friends he coughs realizing his actions. “Umm, w-well I’ll let you go. Gotta Meet up with Laf in a bit.” Taking a step back he rubs his neck then uses the other to give her a small wave. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Watching him slowly walk away she waves, practically glowing with excitement as Peggy looks around trying to catch a glimpse of Jefferson. Taking out her phone she just thinks he’s running late as the screen shows 1:37pm. Sending a message to him she puts her phone away hoping that any footsteps that come near might be his but after looking with hopeful eyes she turns back around her head slumming lower after each turn. Getting tired of standing Peggy takes a seat on the fountain fiddling with her fingers as she checks to see if he responded, but instead sees he saw it and no response. Swallowing the lump in her throat she starts taking deeper breaths noticing each and every person watching her, fists clench putting on a brave face as people stare with judgmental looks.She can’t help the pain in her chest as the screen shows 1:57pm knowing he’s not coming. Putting on the biggest smile she could muster Peggy wipes away the tears refusing to let herself cry over this, or at least in public. Waiting there she tries to control herself wishing she stayed home instead and not in a crowded plaza but never felt more alone.

In a store nearby you see a man with hair so luxurious you’d think he’d have been in a shampoo commercial, hunched down peeping at Peggy through a window. Sighing every few seconds his eyebrows scrunched up lost in thought not knowing he looked like a pervert.

Outside the same store stood another man absentmindedly tugging on his curls held together in a ponytail. Every so often he’d look down and tap out a reply on his phone, seemingly engaged in a conversation with someone. A little bored from waiting, he looked up and his gaze fell on a guy peeping suspiciously out a window. Following the man’s line of sight, his lips curled in disgust as he realized the man was staring at a woman sitting by the fountain. Quel putain de fluage  he thought aloud, muttering under his breath as he walked over to the shop and entered in a few strides. Ignoring the pastel displays and buzzing employees, he made a beeline for the creeper and harshly tapped on his shoulder. “Excusez-moi monsieur, but you need to leave that girl alone.”

Upon getting caught and called out Jefferson was in no mood to talk to anyone. Voicing his thought, “Shut up you stupid baguette-” turning around to face him Thomas stopped mid-sentence fumbling over words and thoughts. Oh, fuck he’s hot praying nobody could read his mind. Blinking to bring him back to reality he gets defensive, “Look, stranger, why don’t you go eat a snail or whatever the hell you do in Monticello, I’m busy.” Not bothering to continue talking he focuses back on Peggy, his stomach tightening even more when he sees her rub his eyes.

Lafayette blinked slowly in confusion. Did he just call him… a baguette? Shaking off the weird insult, he stood his ground. “Oh yeah?” Laf scoffed, pointing out the window towards Peggy, “busy doing what, stalking people?”

Lifting an arm trying to swat him away Jefferson sighs, “Not people,” lowering his voice to a soft whisper being gentle with his words, “her name is Peggy, and I screwed up with that beauty so here I am.” Getting up he faces Laf, “Talking to you, hiding in a store watching from a distance.”

His ears perked up at the familiar name but didn’t mention that he knew her right away. “Comment how?”

“Who do you think she’s waiting for?” Avoiding eye contact he looked at the ground his shoulders drooping and physic getting smaller every minute. “She’s out there all alone and sad because of me.I-I can’t go.”

Ahh, the poor bastard got cold feet. Lafayette went to respond when his phone chimed, and he looked down to read the text with a small smile. “You might be in trouble either way.”

He peeks up, “What how what do you mean?” Jefferson eyes him suspiciously, “How could I be in trouble?”

Giving a small chuckle, Lafayette slung his arm around Thomas’ shoulder. “Well, you see that big guy over there?” Lafayette gestured towards a tall, stocky approaching figure balancing two takeout bags on one arm. “He’s coming here to meet up with me for an event and,” he pointed towards Peggy out the window, “that’s his best friend over there that you ditched.”

Thomas took a look, then his eyes widened to the point anyone would have the fear they would pop off. “I, well it’s not like he would know I was the date unless someone says anything.” Then looks at Laf darting his gaze, “ plus I feel bad enough not like I need an ass whooping.”

“Relax.” Pulling his phone out he typed a quick excuse for not being able to make it before Herc could get close to the shop. Watching him through the glass he saw Herc read the text and could practically hear the sigh of disappointment from across the street. “There you go Mr. Stalker, those clue games aren’t my forte anyway.” Lafayette didn’t know why he called off his plans with Herc to save a stranger that didn’t seem like that good of a person; maybe his hair had hypnotized him.

Pursuing his lips, unsure how to feel right now he just takes a moment to look at Laf on his shoulders. “Um thanks, sorry for missing clue games? “

A grin spread across his face, “No need mon ami, but that was my food he walked off with, so as thanks, you can treat me to lunch.” Not waiting for Thomas to reply, Lafayette grabbed his hand and pulled him along as he left the store in search of a nearby cafe.   

Balancing the Subway bags on his arm, Hercules scrolled through his texts as he walked across the plaza, heading to the stairs by the chain of shops where he and Laf agreed to meet up. Suddenly a text from Lafayette came through: [Desole mon ami, something came up last minute and I can’t go :(. I see your lovely “friend” Peggy sitting alone by the fountain, be safe and use protection ;))] Hercules groaned in annoyance; slipping his phone into his pocket. It sucked that Laf bailed last minute like that and wait-, he said something about Peggy? Hercules scanned the area, his feet quickly carrying him towards the center of the plaza where the fountain was. She should be on her date, why was she alone in the same spot? Catching sight of Peggy, Herc’s chest tightened when he saw her slouched form and the questioning stares of people walking by. Not liking the way people were staring at her, Hercules walked up to Peggy and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey! Sorry, I’m late, I just stopped to get us some lunch.” Herc took her hand, keeping the smile on his face as his eyes said: “Play along.”

Startled by the voice Peggy looks up blinking away tears when she sees Hercules. Squeezing his hand she sighs, “Yeah, well I’m ready to go.”

Concerning leaked into his expression as he quickly pulled Peggy along until they were away from there, walking down the sidewalk until they were in a not so busy area. His car was just up ahead, and once they got to it Hercules stopped; turning around to face Peggy. “Peg,” he questioned in a gentle voice, “are you okay? Did something happen?”  

Shaking her head no Peggy moves to hug him burying herself in his chest. “I got stood up. He never came, I was just there not knowing what to do and it was horrible.”

He hugged her closer, lightly rubbing her back as she explained. Instantly he was pissed off and wanted to go find the guy just so he could beat him to a pulp. “It’s okay,” he reassured her, “it’s okay Peggy, guys like that don’t deserve a second of your attention anyway.”

“Yeah, I know, but it would have been fun going out you know?” Nuzzling against him she stays quiet for a moment enjoying his company trying to ignore her beating heart. “Plus you came over and helped me get dressed for nothing.”

Herc shook his head, “Not for nothing.” Pulling back from the hug he raised the Subway bags. “I have two subs and no partner for this murder mystery game I signed up for so…” He looked down as he rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “Will you be the Sherlock to my Watson?” Realizing how awfully cheesy that sounded, he stumbled over his words as he tried to backtrack, “W-what I mean is, I’ll be your date for today if you, y’know want.”

Chuckling a small smile appears on her face. “I’d be honored to be your Watson, and are you asking me out?” A light blush bloomed on her cheeks after asking it out loud.

Taking a deep breath, Herc steeled his nerves and held Peggy’s hand. “Yes,” a small smile played on his lips as he kissed the back of her hand, “And I promise to show you a better time then he would’ve.”

Peggy becomes an enthusiast mess repeating yes over and over as she hugs him again. “I’ve wanted to go on a date for awhile but I thought you weren’t interested. Of course, I’ll go!”

A laugh bubbled up from him at Peggy’s enthusiasm, returning her hug. “Well geez, if I’d known I would’ve asked a lot sooner.” Enjoying the hug but aware of the time Hercules tilted Peggy’s head up by her chin and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “As much as I love your hugs, we should probably wait until we’re at the place. We can eat in the car on the way there, sound good?”

Eyes sparkling she sighs reluctantly letting go, “fine I guess I’m just excited but we should probably actually go on the date huh?” Finally releasing him she starts walking towards his car eager to begin. “Hurry up, don’t want to be late.” Teasing him as she walks faster.  

He strides to catch up to her, “I’m coming I’m coming, this old body doesn’t move like it used to,” he replied with an elderly voice. Getting his keys out of his pocket he unlocked the car, then moved ahead of Peggy so he could open the door for her. With a flourished he bowed, making sure not to jostle the subs. “Your chariot awaits, Mademoiselle Schuyler.”

Laughing a bit she can’t help but smile wide, “Why thank you Monsieur Mulligan, and sorry to hear about your body guess I’ll be finding all the clues.” Taking a step inside she buckles up for safety because that’s important.

Rolling his eyes, Herc shuts the door and climbs in the driver’s side, not forgetting to put on his seatbelts. “I’m not much of a detective, more like the moral support guy, but I can interrogate people. Be the good cop to your bad cop or however you do it.” He started the car and listened to the engine purr before turning to face Peggy. “Okay, so before we go serious question,” Hercules pulled the subs out of the bag, “cold meatball sub, or cold meat lover’s sub?”

Thinking long and hard she points to the meat lover sub. “That one and can your poor grandpa jaw handle a meatball sub?” Sticking her tongue out because that is going to be a big tease from now on.

“You clearly haven’t seen me deepthroat a twelve inch.” Pulling out from the parking space, Hercules unwrapped his sub and bit off a piece, eyes on the road as he turned a corner.

Peggy snorts at the response, “Mnm I beat that’s quite a show, have to see it sometime.” Looking out the window she smiles at all the people and pets that pass, “do you know the place or did you want me to look it up?”

He shook his head as they pulled up to a red light. “It’s fine, I know where we’re going. It’s fine, I know where we’re going. It’s on the same street as this dance studio I go to.”  

“That’s good, I was worried your mind wouldn’t be what it used to be either. Dance studio?” An eyebrow arch as she shifts to look at him.

Smirking at the old man jab, he nodded. “It’s a good work out without feeling like I’m exercising.”

“Hmm,” she puts her hand on her chin, “that’s a good point, what type of dance?”

The light turned green and Hercules continued driving, occasionally taking a bite out of his sub. He kept his tone casual while focusing on the road, “Exotic dancing.”

She perks at the thought, “E-exotic dancing?” Her face turns red again looking away feeling embarrassed at her previous excitement.

He chuckled as her face turned red “Yeah, have you tried it”

“C-can’t say that I have, but it’s interesting you go and do it for fun.” She leans back in her seat looking at him for a quick second before turning away. “It’s kind of funny I didn’t know that about you, how long have you been dancing? Are you any good?”

The building where the event was taking place was just a block away. “Ah, it’s cause I don’t really talk about it, not something that comes up in conversation. But I’ve been there for three years now and,” he gave a modest shrug, “I’m decent? I guess you’d have to come see for yourself.” He smiled over at Peggy, thinking it was adorable how flustered she was.

“Well I bet you’re one of the best in class, and um,” biting on her lips she tries to look at him with a serious face, “I’d definitely come support you if I was invited. Make a poster and cheer the loudest.”

“Really?” Herc gave a small laugh as he pulled up to the building, parking in a spot that was just a few feet away. “Hmm, let me guess,” he leaned towards Peggy, studying her face as if he were in serious thought. “You were a cheerleader in high school, right? You have the attitude and the looks of it.”

She gulps not use to the close contact yet getting more flustered by the second. “Close but actually color guard, although I wouldn’t be opposed to wearing a cheerleading outfit when I come to support you.” Smiling as she tries to act normal ignoring how close he was.

He smiled wide, reaching over and ruffling her hair before getting out of her personal space. “My bad Sunshine, the color guard at my school were pretty anti-cheerleader, so didn’t mean to generalize.” Unlocking the car he hopped out of his side and shut the door, then walked around to open Peggy’s door. Holding his hand out for, her he tilted his head with a playful grin. “I gotta say, you’d look pretty cute in a cheerleading outfit.”

Breathing out in relief Peggy is unsure how she is going to survive with a more playful Herc. Then takes his hand, “you look cute in anything.” Trying to be smooth she cringed at her own line.

Humming at the remark, he helped her get out of the car. “Go raibh maith agat, but I’ve been told I look better without anything on.” He held back a laugh as he winked at Peggy, intertwining their fingers as he closed her door and locked the car. Changing the subject, he nodded over towards the building. “Ready to do some detective work?”

Her nose twitched at the comment feeling clingy all of a sudden. Tightening her grip on their fingers she stays still pulling on him, “yes but before that, Herc.” Taking a deep breath she moves to grab his shirt so he’s down at her height. “I-I mm,” shaking her head to gain some confidence Peggy leans in to whisper in his ear, “when I’m done with you, you’re not going to want to show yourself to anyone else.” Letting go she miles and starts leading him towards the building. “Yup let’s go, Watson!”

Completely caught off guard, Hercules stood there dumbstruck for a moment as he felt his face heat up. “I-I um, right behind you,” he gave her hand a little squeeze as she dragged him over towards the building, finally picking up his pace.  

Smirking because she finally felt like she has the upper hand Peggy opens the door for him. “After you Mulligan.”

She was so attractive it was unfair. Regaining some of his composure back, he chuckled at her words, “Why, thank you, for your service Schuyler.” He waited for her to walk through the door as well before glancing around, letting out a low whistle at the elaborate yet eerie Victorian theme.

“Wow,” she says in awe taking in the scene. “This is so beautiful! I can’t believe we get to do this! Where do we sign in?” Asking looking around not paying attention to Herc.

Herc took a break from eyeing the gift shop to look around for the check-in booth. “There,” he pointed to a line formed in front of a counter with attendants at it, “looks like people are in line to sign in.” Taking Peggy’s hand, they got in line behind groups of teenagers.

“Huh?” Then before another word she smiles realizing he took her hand. “It’s cute how much you’ve held my hand in this past hour.” Standing in line she lifts their hands, placing a kiss on his fingers. “Feels like a perfect fit.”

Smiling giddily, he waggled his fingers in her grip. “Your hands are so much smaller than mine, it’s cute.”

“Mmm, I think you’re cute.” Stepping forward as the line moves up. “Just everything about you is adorable.”

Hercules couldn’t help but smile wider, and he gave her hand a light squeeze as he averted his gaze. “Aw shucks,” he nudged Peggy playfully, “I’m just the big bad flower guy next door, nothing too cute about me. You on the other hand,” he whistled lowly for emphasis, “hot damn.”

“Herc!” smiling she playfully smacks his arm blushing, “I’m not hot ‘damn’ if anything that’s you with your dance moves. More of a sweet, kind of like a kinder egg. Never know what to expect but always a nice surprise.”

“Detective Kinder Egg sounds intimidating,” he joked. The line moved up, and they were one spot away from turning in their tickets. “I’ll agree and disagree though, you’re both.”

“And what will you be? Detective cutie on account how adorable you are?” Mocking in response. “Also am I going to have to say my name is Lafayette?”

Cracking a smile, Herc shook his head. “The tickets are under my name, and if you actually call yourself Detective Kinder Egg during this thing, you can call me whatever you want.”

“You know I will! And on that note does that mean I can call you later tonight?” Smirking with an exaggerated wink and then another one thinking she’s the best thing since sliced bread.

He muffled a laugh as the group in front of them moved on. “You know I live next to you, right?” Approaching the ticket collector, he pulled out the two ticket tickets he printed off the website and stated his name. The employees marked off the box next to Mulligan, confirming the purchase as he got the ticket stubs back. “The group murder mystery event is down the hall, the smaller rooms for minigames and puzzles are to your right, bathrooms on your left.”

Thanking the employee and moving out of the way Peggy starts heading towards the gift shop, “Go on ahead I’ll meet you at the group event in ten.” Not waiting for an answer she goes without him moving fast out of sight.

Peggy wai-” Too late, she was gone. Hercules sighed, he always got ditched for the gift shop. Figuring she’d meet up with him after the gift shop robbed her blind, Hercules wandered his way on over to the line for the group event and busied himself with scanning the rules.

Exploring the gift shop Peggy smiles seeing what she came in for. Grabbing a monocle and bowler hat for Herc she takes the “official detective hat and pipe” for herself. Making sure to pick up a magnifying glass at the checkout line before returning back to him. Hugging Herc from behind she puts the bag in his line of view. “Back and got what every detective duo needs!”

“Huh?” Blushing as Peggy hugs him he looks down at the bag, “Aww Peggy you didn’t need to get me anything.”

Nuzzling against him she reaches into the bag herself grabbing the monocle, “Of course I did! Plus I think we’ll find clues better with these accessories.” Herc takes the molecule and reaches into the bag smiling at the sight of the hats.

“I’m guessing that’s for us too?” Nodding her head Peggy lets go, standing next to him as she puts on her hat.

“Now all I need is,” reaching back into the bag she grabs a pipe and blows into it showing bubbles coming out the other end. “We are ready to solve crimes!” Herc puts on his accessories then the doors open letting all the guest come in.

A man with a bellhop uniform fakes a scream causing everyone to look at him, then in an unenthusiastic attitude begins. “oh no, there has been a murder. It’s up to all of you to solve it. Each pair or person must bring back a clue, you have an hour but the sooner you find it the sooner you can leave. Time starts,” he takes out a stopwatch then clicks it, “now.”

Everyone looks around confused as some start venturing off through the doors that lead to a path of mystery. Peggy looks at Herc who shrugs, then takes her hand dragging her to a nearby door. They walk around what appears to be a hallway looking for clues admiring all the details. Stopping Peggy takes a closer look at a picture pulling on Herc.

“Hey, look at the eyes.”

“huh? Why?”

“Just take a look and move towards your right.” Doing what she says Herc laughs noticing the picture following him as he moves.

“That’s cool, Detective Kinder Eggs noticing the little things.” smiling down at Peggy’s pouting face she looks away.

“At least I’m not Detective Hot Pants, now that’s embarrassing.”

Rolling his eyes he hugs her showing it was a playful comment. Moving ahead Herc starts walking around more looking behind paintings as Peggy tries to open more doors with no luck.

“What are we even looking for, what counts as a clue?” Herc asks taking notice of a vase.

“I don’t know,” smiling as he bends over to take a closer look she walks behind him putting the magnifying glass next to his butt. “but I do think I have all the evidence right here to say you have a fine ass.”

Chucking at her unexpected words he accidentally leans forward knocking the vase down to which Peggy immediately says, “Ooooh, you’re in trouble!” stepping back so she isn’t to blame.

“Peggy come on, what are we five? The worst they’ll do is make me pay, now you, on the other hand, keep speaking up and see what happens.” winking as he goes to pick up the mess, then squinted his eyes seeing a paper. “Hey, Sunshine, do you see this?”

“Hmm?” Walking over she takes the paper reading it, “Congratulations you’ve found a clue, now get to the room before the murder finds you!” Taking a look at Herc he looks just as confused as her. “Someone is chasing us? We should get back, fast.” Worried in her face as she puts the magnifying glass down to pull him up with both hands.

“Pegs, I need to clean up the vase mess, someone could get hurt!” struggling to go back to cleaning.

“No, we need to hurry!” grunting as her efforts to move him become useless. “I will leave you here.” Not waiting any longer she starts slowly walking backward. “oh, here I go!”

Gazing at Peggy and back at the mess he sighs giving in. “Okay wait for me.” heading back to the door Herc tries to turn it but it won’t open. “We might have a problem.”

“What? Here let me try.” Pushing him aside she tries but can’t open it. “What’s happening? Why is it locked? How do we get back!?!” starting to panic Herc grabs her rubbing circles into her back to calm her.

“Shh, it’s part of the game,  we have plenty of time to get back, let’s just go try more doors and see what happens. One step at a time.” waiting until she was better he takes her hand to the hallway of doors hoping one opens.

After trying multiple doors Herc finally finds one that opens but to a pitch black room. “Hmmm, Peggy wait right here, I’m going to see why this door is open.” entering the room the door with Peggy holding it open he goes exploring taking small steps trying to find a light source. Snubbing his foot on something and letting out a since Peggy goes in after him allowing the door the shut. Turning around Herc moves quickly trying to catch the door before it closes, pinning Peggy there without noticing.

“Peggy! Are you okay?!” turning the handle it’s no use as it locks from the inside. “please tell me you’re safe.”

Feeling him against her Peggy takes in a sharp breath trying to seem cool but her voice becoming a pitch higher, “Yeah totally cool, I’m good, very groovy!”

“Okay, just stay close-“ he turns red as Peggy shifts a bit stepping back to give her some space. “I-I’m sorry Sunshine! I didn’t know I was so close!” About to move back more he’s stopped by a shirt tug.

“No, wait please don’t. I-it’s kind of scary in this room and I like you this close.”

If he wasn’t blushing already Herc was sure he was about to die from how cute Peggy sounded as he nervously returned close. Both not knowing what to say until Peggy finally breaks the silence.

“Trapped in a closet with your crush, I think we both know what happens next.”

��Peggy, we aren’t kids I told you before.”

“Aww but Herc, you can’t stand there and lie to me saying you don’t want to make out.” trying to be as suggestive as possible Peggy puts her hands on his waist slipping them in his back pocket making the distance even smaller between them.

“I can’t even see your beautiful face, as much as I like your hands, it isn’t going to work.”

Feeling her heart beat faster at the word beautiful she can’t help but go aww. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

“The most beautiful person in the universe and beyond. As much as I do want to kiss you I would need help finding your lips.”

Kissing his chest to give him an idea where she is Herc starts leaning down until he’s centimeters away from kissing her. Both holding their breath for the long-awaited moment but just as the lips are about to meet, the door opens startling them both.

They fumble over each other letting their eyes adjust to the harsh light seeing the employee. “Oh no, you’ve been found by the murder, you have died.”

Looking at the other they laugh at the monotone voice walking out. Fingers intertwined they leave the mystery house sad they lost but happy for a good time. Heading to the car Herc notices a reggae band playing some sweet beats nearby and takes Peggy towards them.

“Pegs, come dance with me!” Smiling he spreads his legs getting in a squatting position swaying himself back and forth. Catching his smile she joins him as they dance for a few more songs not caring at the people watching as they laugh and enjoy having the other here. Paying them in the jar they had Herc takes Peggy home walking her to her door even though they live next to each other.

“You didn’t have to walk me,” secretly happy as she gets her keys out.

“You don’t have to be so cute and amazing but I guess we both go the extra mile.” Hearing the click of the open door he’s confused when she doesn’t open the door.

Facing him she sighs, “You know, even though I didn’t get laid, my lucky sunflower clip did pull through.”

“Oh, and how is that?” curious about what she’s trying to say.

“Well, I’m lucky I went on a date with the only person who could show me that good of a time. Which I’m hoping there will be another date?” smiling she looks away hoping he doesn’t get weirded out. Instead, his heart skips a beat putting one hand on Peggy’s door and the other on her chin making her look up at him.

Gazing into her eyes he nods, “There will be many more.” looking at her lips he waits to see if she’ll pull back before going for a kiss. Closing their eyes both feel the sparks flying as the kiss gets a bit more passionate before Herc pulls away panting.

“Wow,” Peggy just as breathless as him nods in agreement. “Wow indeed.”

Tempted to kiss her again he just ruffles her hat not letting his monocle fall off as he becomes a fluster mess walking down the stairs and up his own pair. Giggling Peggy opens her own door once he gets to his. Blowing him a kiss she then goes inside. Catching it Herc goes inside his own apartment where both are left smiling the rest of the night.

[onewfantaesy]

how does taemins mom react when she finds out her son is a god and there are people who are making sculptures and paintings of taemin??

At first, she doesn’t really believe it. She doesn’t believe that her son was made into a god and roams around the forest that’s practically her backyard, and she doesn’t believe that there’s a whole section for him in the pantheon. It wasn’t until a friend actually brought her to the pantheon to see it that she believed it.

There, in those paintings, was her little boy. There was no denying it was him. He had always loved the fawns, and now he was the guardian of them. She fainted.

Then, Taemin got scared during a storm a little while after she found out. He was scared, he was so scared, and all he could think of was that his mom would make it better. So he ran to where he used to live, knocked on the cabin door, and stared at his father when he answered the door and stared at him with wide eyes from underneath his dripping fringe.

“I’m scared,” Taemin whispered. “I want Mommy.”

His father brought him in, and both his parents knew now that there was no denying their son had been made into a god. He had an aura around him, like all the gods did, and it was green and gold. They had gone so long believing that their son was dead, had found his shoes and socks over on the beach and just assumed the worst when he hadn’t come home for weeks, and now here he was in their home, shaking from the cold and dripping wet in the living room.

Taemin had been scared of monsters when he was young, and he always slept in his parents’ bed at night. Even now, as a god, he continued to sleep in their bed whenever he was home. His mother loved every minute of it, because those months she went without her son were the worst of her life, and she loved having him close to her again. 

Then three or so years passed, and Taemin’s parents decided to have another baby. They missed having a child home all the time, missed having a child that could grow, and Taemin was excited at first. But then they had the baby, and Taemin missed getting all of their attention.

They stopped paying as much attention to him. All of their attention was on the baby, all the time. Taemin would come during a storm, still afraid, and his parents would stay focused on the baby - Taemin’s baby brother.

Taemin was replaced.

He loved his baby brother, and he loved his parents, but then the baby became a toddler, and he wanted to sleep in the same bed as their parents. There wasn’t enough room for all four of them.

“You’re a god, Taemin,” his mother said. “Nothing can happen to you anymore. Let your baby brother sleep with us.”

“But you turned my room into his room,” Taemin mumbled. “There’s nowhere for me to sleep anymore.”

Taemin ended up sleeping in the forest, and he stopped visiting his parents as much. Eventually, he stopped visiting them altogether. They hardly noticed when he was there, too intent on taking care of his little brother.

Taemin would visit, sort of. He would watch through the window and leave little trinkets on his brother’s windowsill. 

Eventually, artists caught Taemin in those moments. There were paintings of him crouching outside his parents’ cabin, watching them play with his baby brother through the window. Paintings of him leaving toys he made out of wood. Paintings of him playing outdoors with his brother and playing the panflute for him while their parents were gone. Paintings of him crying outside his parents’ cabin while they paid attention to his brother inside. There were poems and stories written about it, and eventually it circled back to his parents.

His brother was older by that point, older than Taemin was when he became a god. Taemin hated seeing his baby brother get older than him, because he didn’t know how to react. His brother didn’t know how to treat him at that point, either. Whenever they saw each other after his brother became physically older than him, it was strange. Sometimes they ran into each other when his brother was with friends, just hanging out in the forest. Taemin would pass by with the baby fawns and some bunnies following after him, playing his panflute and digging his toes into the grass and mud, and just generally being a childlike mess. Then he would see his brother, now an older teenager with his friends, and he would feel very out of place. 

“Isn’t that your big brother?” one of his friends would laugh.

“He doesn’t look so big, does he?” another would laugh.

Taemin’s eyes would go wide, he would get so worried, and he would hold his panflute to his chest and stop in his tracks as he turned to his brother. His hair would be filled with flowers, his pants would be rolled up to his shin, and he would be the picture of innocence - because he always was.

“Leave him alone,” his brother would say. “He’s a god, remember? You don’t want him to smite you or anything.”

But his brother never looked happy when he mentioned Taemin was a god. It was as if he was jealous, or angry. One day, after his brother’s friends had made fun of him and his brother said that line again, Taemin got upset.

“I didn’t ask to be made a god,” Taemin whispered, backing up and holding a baby bunny to his chest. “I didn’t ask for it.”

Then there as a clap of thunder, and Taemin flinched - he was still afraid of storms, and he probably always would be. Jonghyun hadn’t warned him of any storms, he had probably forgotten, and Taemin became so afraid when the first drop of rain landed on his face as he stared up at the clouds.

Taemin looked at his brother once and then ran. He was afraid, he was so afraid, and there was no one around to help him feel better. He ran to his hut made of leaves and twigs, and he crawled in it with one of the bunnies so he could wait out the storm.

He hadn’t noticed his brother or his brother’s friends following after him. His hut wasn’t very big, so only his brother was able to follow him inside, and even then, it was only his upper half that fit.

“Why are you scared?” his brother asked.

“I don’t like storms,” Taemin whispered, holding the bunny close to him. 

“Have you always not like storms?”

“Only since I woke up,” Taemin said.

“Since you woke up? Since this morning?” his brother asked, and they heard his friends laughing from outside.

Taemin shook his head.

“Since I woke up after I died,” Taemin said. “When I first became a god.”

“You died?” his brother asked. “Gods can’t die.”

“I died when I was human still,” Taemin said. “At the beach. During a storm. I drowned in the water, and then the All-Father made me into a god.”

There was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning, and Taemin cowered and hid his face in the bunny’s fur.

“It’s okay,” his brother stuttered, holding a hand out. “You’re going to be fine, it’s just rain.”

“I want Mommy,” Taemin whispered.

“Then why did you run here and not home?”

“Mommy and Daddy don’t want me around anymore,” Taemin whispered. “Not since they got you. They love you more. Because you’re not dead.”

“You’re not dead.”

“Just because the All-Father made me a god doesn’t mean I’m not dead.”

That hit his brother hard, because it really explained the way Taemin’s mind worked. He was still a twelve-year-old, even after twenty or so years. His brother picked him up, ignored the way his friends laughed, and brought him back home. They were both soaking wet, but his brother gave him new, warm clothes and held him while they sat on the couch. When they parents came home, his mother was so happy to see him. It had been so many years, and she hadn’t realized that she and her husband had made Taemin want to stay away, but she held him close, and Taemin slept in bed with his parents that night. His brother also stopped being so jealous of him, because it seemed like being a god wasn’t all it was chalked up to be.

[ginnyweatherby]

Reflection

So awhile back @thestanfoubrew and I discussed the possibility of Stan developing a bit of a DadBod a few years into his marriage, so this is that fic.

This is supposed to be a Christmas present even if it isn’t a holiday story to her for being such a lovely friend, but if anyone else is in the mood for 3000+ words of Stanfou family fluff, this could be a present for you too.  Hope you like it! :)

Stanley pulled his shirt over his head with a sigh.  It had been a long day at work, only to come home to his sons arguing, and his daughters were still fighting off colds, making them whinier than they normally were.

Lefou had been a saint, as usual.  He’d spent the day breaking up the boys fights, trying to keep the girls comfortable and rested, and still somehow managed to find the time to have dinner prepared when Stanley walked through the front door.  Maybe Stanley should do something nice for his husband soon to thank him for all he put up with…

“Nice view,”  Lefou’s voice startled Stanley out of his thoughts.  He looked down and noticed he still hadn’t thrown on a pajama top, and his pants were riding lower than usual.

“I’m going to bed,”  Stanley said, with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,”  Lefou said.  He grabbed a shirt from the chair next to the bed, gave it a quick sniff, and shrugged before pulling it on.

“You know we have a washing machine, right?”  Stanley peeled the covers back on the bed, before climbing underneath.

“I’m going to bed,”  Lefou echoed, as he joined Stanley on the mattress.

“Did they go down alright?”  Stanley had made sure the boys brushed their teeth and went to sleep on time, while Lefou attempted to put the girls down.

“Well enough,”  Lefou shrugged.  “They were exhausted,”

“I hate seeing them so sick,”  Stanley said, remembering how congested they both sounded, and Michelle’s lingering cough.

“Me too,”  Lefou agreed.  “Camille was acting much more like herself today, though,”

“That’s good,”  Stanley said, reaching over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table.

“Well, at least tomorrow is Saturday,”  Lefou said, burying himself deeper under the covers, scooting closer to Stanley.  The man radiated heat like a furnace when he slept, but liked to fall asleep snuggled up, before kicking the blankets off somewhere in the middle of the night – leaving Stanley half frozen.

“Says the stay-at-home-dad,”  Stanley teased, rolling onto his side to look at his partner.

“Exactly, it’s my day off,”  Lefou chuckled.

“Fine, I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow,”  Stanley said, as if he didn’t let Lefou sleep in every weekend.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,”  Lefou said, with a smile.  In the darkness, Stanley could only just make out the little space between his teeth.

Stanley laughed, before he began to drift off.  It was so easy to fall asleep when Lefou was playing with his hair like that…

“You need a haircut,”  Lefou said after awhile, jolting Stanley back into consciousness.

“Mmph,” Stanley mumbled, nuzzling his face deeper into Lefou’s shoulder.

“I’ve never known you to go more than six weeks without a trim,”  Lefou was being chatty tonight.  “Are you growing it out?”

Stanley shook his head, his eyes still shut.  “Haven’t had the time,” he mumbled.

“I could trim it,”  Lefou suggested.

“Do you really want to relive the time you cut Barney’s hair?”  Stanley asked, remembering the image of their poor son walking around with an uneven haircut for a week before Stanley took him to a professional to fix it.

“That’s different, his hair is curlier than yours,”  Lefou said.

“I’ll get it cut tomorrow if it bothers you so much,”  Stanley said.

“Oh, no,”  Lefou said, still running his fingers through Stanley’s locks.  “It’s growing on me, actually,”

“Mmhm,”  Stanley hummed, not convinced.

“Your sideburns could use a little work, though,”

“Goodnight, Lefou,”  Stanley rolled over to face the wall, pulling the blankets with him.

“Night, babe,”  Lefou said.  Stanley could practically hear the fond smile in his voice.

The next morning, Stanley kept his promise of letting Lefou sleep in.  He rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb his snoring lover, even though he knew Lefou would probably sleep through a plane crashing through the ceiling.

He could hear Camille babbling to herself in the next room, and knew it wasn’t likely she would fall back asleep.

“G’morning, honey,” Stanley softly greeted as he pushed her bedroom door open.  Michelle was drooling on her pillow on the adjacent bed.

“HI DADDY!”  Camille shouted.

“Shh, let’s let Michelle sleep a little more, okay?”  Stanley carried his youngest daughter out of the room, softly closing the door behind them.

“Are you hungry?”  He asked, brushing some of Camille’s hair away from her eyes.

“I AM!”  Came a yell from across the hall.

Stanley sighed.  So much for letting the others sleep.

“Bartholomew, hush, it’s still early,”

Barney turned the corner from his bedroom, skidding across the floor in his socks.

“But I’m starving,”  Barney whined, tugging on the bottom of Stanley’s shirt.

“I hardly think you’re starving,”  Stanley rolled his eyes, lowering Camille into her favorite seat at the head of the table.

“It’s true, Daddy,”  Barney continued, draping himself across one of the kitchen chairs.

Stanley bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at his son’s dramatics.  The boy was more like Lefou every day.

“Well, what are you starving for, then?”  Stanley asked, as he fixed Camille a cup of juice.

“Breakfast,”  Barney said, simply.

Stanley sighed.  Eggs it was, then.

By the time he had sausage sizzling in the pan, the rest of his family had wandered into the kitchen.  It was amazing how the smell of breakfast was the only thing that seemed to be able to get Emilien out of bed at a decent hour.

“Do you need help with anything?”  Lefou asked with a yawn, as Michelle crawled onto his lap.

“Nearly done,”  Stanley said, moving the plate of sausage onto the table. “Michelle, are you going to sit on your own chair?”

Michelle shook her head, nuzzling her face into Lefou’s neck.  At four years old, Stanley had given up hope that she might become a morning person like himself.

Stanley fell into his chair, and helped the kids fill their plates, before he loaded up his own.

“Whoa, Dad, that’s a lot of eggs,”  Barney said, now sporting a milk mustache.

“I’m bigger than you are,”  Stanley said, passing the boy a napkin, which he ignored in favor of his sleeve.

“Uncle Gaston eats a lot of eggs,”  Emilien said.

“Rumor has it he eats five dozen of them,”  Lefou commented, giving Michelle a bite from his fork.

The boys made little noises of awe, causing their parents to laugh.

Stanley began pushing his food around his plate, suddenly feeling a bit sluggish.  Perhaps his eyes were bigger than his stomach that morning.  He had been eating a bit more than usual, lately, but he and Lefou were decent enough cooks, and they did order takeout more often than they probably should…

“… You feeling okay, babe?”  Lefou asked, his face painted with concern.

Stanley snapped out of his reverie before he could let his train of thought go any farther.

“I’m great,”

In his younger years, Stanley made it a point to hit the gym at least every other day, but as of late, he was lucky to go once a week.  It wasn’t that he didn’t like to stay fit, but his life had gotten so busy between the boys’ school activities, or his work schedule, or whatever family outings Lefou had planned for their weekends.

The inactivity was making today’s workout session a bit more strenuous than usual.

He huffed as he upped his speed on the treadmill, his favorite workout playlist blasting through his headphones.  It felt good to exercise, even if he was getting a little winded.  He paused to take a drink from his water bottle.  Just a few more miles and he would head home. He really was getting old.

After a quick shower in the gym locker room, Stanley caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.  His too-long hair was still wet, dripping down his shoulders, and his face flushed from overexertion.  He’d also neglected to shave that morning, and now his face was covered in short, scruffy hairs.  Ten years ago he would have scoffed at his sloppy appearance.

With a last shrug at his reflection, he threw his gym bag over his shoulder and exited the locker room.

“Dad, do you have any pictures from when I was a baby?”  Emilien asked, throwing his backpack haphazardly on the floor.

“I do,”  Stanley said, picking up the bag, and handing it back to him. “Do you know why we keep hooks by the door?”

Emilien scowled, but put the bag in its proper place.

“What do you need pictures for?”  Stanley asked, as Barney darted past him, headed for the kitchen.  After-school snacks were very important to the younger boy.

“It’s for school,”  Emilien said.  “We have to make a family tree, and I think it would be cool if I used baby pictures instead of newer ones,”

“I think that’s a great idea,”  Stanley said.  “We’ll have to dig out some of my old baby pictures,”

“I bet there’s dinosaurs in the background,”

“Just how old do you think I am, kid?”  Stanley narrowed his eyes.

Emilien paused for a moment, thinking it over.

“Don’t answer that,”  Stanley stopped him, before lowering his voice.  “Just remember, Papa is even older than me,”

“He must be ancient, then,”  Emilien giggled.

“What’s ancient?”  Lefou asked, as he passed by, a snoozing Camille on his shoulder.

“Nothing, darling,”  Stanley said, throwing a wink in Emilien’s direction.

Stanley watched as Lefou lifted a heavy box from the top shelf of the hall closest.  “And here I thought I took a lot of pictures,”

Lefou rolled his eyes.  “What can I say?  Barney was a cute baby,”

“Are any of your baby pictures hiding in this box?”  Stanley asked, as Lefou handed it to him.

“A few.  I think there’s some of my sister in there too,”

“Did your parents make you two dress alike too, or was that just mine?” Stanley carried the box into the living room.  The boys were at school, and Stanley had promised to have a good assortment of baby pictures for Emilien to choose from when they got home.

“No, our parents let us be individuals,”  Lefou teased, as they sat on the floor, and he lifted the lid from the box.

“The tragedies of having sisters who are triplets, I suppose,”

“Ohh, look at him,”  Lefou cooed, as he displayed a picture of a little baby in a car seat, the tiniest patch of red hair on his head.  “This was when I first got to bring him home,”

Stanley smiled.  He’d looked at baby pictures of Barney before, but he knew there were still ones he hadn’t seen.

Stanley rooted through the box, before he emerged with a photo of Barney, a few months older.  “Was this his first birthday?”

“Can’t you tell from the frosting beard?”  Lefou laughed, taking the picture from him.  “Who’s that, Michelle?”

Michelle climbed onto his lap, and inspected the picture.  “Camille,”

“No, darling, that’s Barney!” Lefou said.

Michelle laughed at the thought of her older brother as a baby.

“I bet I have some of you as a baby,”  Lefou said.  He rummaged through the box, before pulling out a copy of one of Stanley’s favorite pictures.

“Is that Camille?”  Michelle said, pointing at it.

“That’s Camille, yes,”  Lefou said, moving her finger, “but that’s you,”

Stanley didn’t have to look at the picture to know they were looking at the moment Michelle first met her sister.  Camille was in Stanley’s arms, while a five-month-old Michelle balanced in Lefou’s lap.  She was looking intently at the little bundle Stanley was holding, one hand stuck in her mouth, the other reaching for her new sister.

Michelle continued to look with them for a few more pictures before she got bored and wandered off.

“Oh, I forgot this one was in here,”  Lefou breathed, as he found another photo.  Stanley looked closer and felt his heart tighten.  It was a picture of Lefou holding another little baby – this one with his same dark hair and eyes.

“Emilien won’t be able to use this one, I suppose,”  Lefou said, with a watery smile.

“We’ll tell him about her soon, don’t worry,”  Stanley squeezed Lefou’s hand, and opened his mouth to continue when he heard Camille wailing from her room.  She had been taking a nap, and rarely woke up from one in a good mood.

“I’ll get her,”  Stanley said, standing up.  “See if you can find any embarrassing pictures of you.  I’m sure the boys would love to see them,”

Lefou nodded, gently placing the treasured picture next to him.  “I’ll keep looking,”

By the time the boys returned home, Stanley and Lefou had managed to make a decent sized stack of baby pictures to choose from.  They didn’t know if Emilien would want silly pictures or more serious pictures, so they picked a few of each, which he and Barney were now going through.

“Is that Emilien, Daddy?”  Barney asked, pointing at a picture his brother was holding.

“That’s him,”  Stanley nodded.  It was one taken shortly after he adopted Emilien, the proud smile of a new father on his face, as his sisters crowded around.

“Dad, you were so skinny,”  Emilien noted, after they’d gone through most of the stack.

Stanley frowned.  He hadn’t noticed much of a change in his body type over the years.  He took the picture from his son and his frown deepened.  He did look thinner.  And younger.  Granted, the picture was taken about decade ago, when he only had one child to chase after, but still.

Stanley looked down at himself, a little self-consciously.  He was still relatively fit, but he knew he’d gained a few pounds, mainly in the middle region.  He supposed his steady diet of fast food and their hearty home cooking was catching up with him.

Barney giggled, as he took out another picture.  “Look at Michelle’s hair in this one!”

Stanley smiled as Barney pointed at his sister’s bedhead, forcing his negative thoughts aside.

“Stanley, are you alright?”  Lefou asked, as he walked in their bedroom to find Stanley staring at himself in the full-length mirror.  “You look… concerned,”

“Am I still attractive?”  Stanley asked, looking at Lefou in the reflection.

Lefou snorted.  “Is the sky blue?”

“I’m being serious,”

He watched as Lefou’s smile faded away, a confused pout taking its place.  “What’s this about?”

Stanley sighed.  “Have I let myself go?”

Lefou walked up to him and squeezed him from behind.  “If you have, I need better glasses,”

“Emilien pointed out that in those old pictures, I look so much thinner… and my hair was always done… and I always bothered to shave, unless I was going for facial hair,”

“… did you ever go for facial hair?”  Lefou asked, resting his chin on Stanley’s shoulder.

“Find the pictures from when Emilien was about two,”  Stanley said.  “I had a beard and everything,”

“I’ll be on the lookout,”  Lefou said.  “But honestly, you still look amazing, all the time.  I’m a little jealous how you can wear sweats and still look hot, while I have to wear a three-piece suit to even begin to look presentable,”

“That’s a lie and you know it,”  Stanley turned his head, and pressed a kiss to Lefou’s forehead.  “Although I have been wearing sweats a lot, lately,”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

Stanley sighed, but smiled.  “Maybe it’s midlife crisis creeping in,”

“If you’re already midlife, I don’t want to know what that says about me,”  Lefou released Stanley’s middle, and they made their way to the bed.

“I know I shouldn’t feel bad,”  Stanley said, draping the blankets over them, “because I’m really happy.  With you.  With the kids.  With everything,”

“We all have low moments, babe,”  Lefou said, with a yawn.  “You think I’m always Monsieur Confidence?”

“You always seem to be,”  Stanley said, honestly.  His husband never really seemed to care what others thought of him, as long as he was happy.

“Most of the time, I’m happy with myself, and the way I look,”  Lefou admitted, “but then I catch sight of my profile, or the stretch marks on my thighs and wonder what I’d look like if I were different,”

“I wouldn’t recognize my own husband,”  Stanley said.  “You know I love the way you are,”

“And I you, dear,”  Lefou said.  “That’s exactly my point,”

Stanley nodded, reaching over to turn off the lamp, even though he was far from tired.

“Night,” Lefou said, snuggling closer into Stanley side, wrapping an arm around him.

Stanley squeezed his partner, before closing his eyes.  He had some things to think about.

“Barney, where’s your reading homework?”

“Emilien, do you have your family tree project?”

“In my backpack!”

“I’ve got it here, Dad!”

It was a few weeks later, and life had moved on as usual.  Stanley still felt self-conscious on occasion, but he supposed that was human nature.

Even though as a teen and young adult, he tended to lean more towards the vain side, he supposed it didn’t really matter now.  He was healthy, he was happy, and he had more important things to worry about than if he had to go up a size in trousers, or if his hair was a little messy.  He didn’t want his kids to grow up worrying about their appearance or being unhappy with themselves.  He wanted to be a good role model for them.

So, he’d thought about it a lot.  He considered going to the gym more regularly, and cutting back on the fried foods.  While he probably still would, it would be more in an effort to stay healthy, rather than for vanity.

He had a husband, and four wonderful children who loved him just the way he was, and that should be enough.  That was enough.

“Bye, Papa, love you,”  Emilien leaned up and gave Lefou a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye, Dad, love you,”  He echoed, reaching up to kiss Stanley’s face, but before he could, Stanley fell to his knees and squeezed his son, maybe a little tighter than usual.

“I love you, kid,”  Stanley murmured.  “No matter what,”

Emilien allowed the hug to continue a moment more before complaining about missing the bus.

Stanley laughed as he released, giving Barney a hug, as well, before the boys dashed out of the house.

“… you alright?”  Lefou asked, after the door slammed behind Barney.  “That was… unusual,”

Stanley turned to look at his husband.  “I’m fine,”

As he watched the boys’ bus pull away, and heard his daughters playing together behind them, Stanley draped an arm around Lefou’s shoulder, and his smile widened.  “Actually, I’m perfect,”

[trasheddie]

Help Me Out

(A/N: so this is a little fic about the Holy Trinity because I love them and I need all three of them to be okay. Also, the fight scene fallout is based on the headcanon I posted for it on here earlier. Can also be read on AO3.)

ONSDAG 12:25

Isak wasn’t there when she walked into class.

She’d known there was a good chance he wasn’t going to be, considering he probably had a broken nose and she hadn’t seen him around the previous two days, but it still hurt when her eyes landed on his empty seat. Sana had spent the better part of the weekend drowning in guilt over what happened at the karaoke bar. Visions of sticky, blood-covered hands stained the backs of her eyelids every time she closed them, along with ones of Noora’s disappointed face and Yousef’s frame pressed against hers. It had been a hellish way to end what was supposed to be a nice afternoon.

Sana sighed and plopped down at the table. It felt empty without the blond boy next to her. She never realized how much she enjoyed their friendly banter until he wasn’t around, and it left her with a sick feeling in her stomach knowing that it was her brother’s fist that was responsible for his absence. She hadn’t bothered trying to talk to Elias about the fight. He had already shut himself in his room by the time she’d gotten home Friday night, and at that point she’d been too drained to bring it up anyway. He wasn’t acting like himself lately. Instead of being the sporty, fun-loving big brother that she knew, Elias was getting drunk and starting brawls with teenagers. Sana was officially worried about him.

The teacher called the students’ attention up to the board to begin class. Sana pulled out her textbook and resolved that, at the very least, she could take some notes for Isak so he wouldn’t fall behind. The boy was ridiculous when it came to passing biology, even if he liked to pretend that he never stressed about anything school related. Sana remembered seeing him nearly blow a gasket the one time he missed a pop quiz on a sick day. She rolled her eyes at the memory and smiled a little. Maybe focusing on work would help take her mind off her disastrous social life for a while.

ONSDAG 13:30

Sana headed straight to her locker when the bell rang. Usually she would grab a bite to eat and sit with her friends, but the thought of facing Noora and Vilde after everything that happened made her gut twist unpleasantly, so she decided against it. She considered looking for Eva, or possibly Chris instead. They had been distant recently and she missed them a lot. Out of all the girls, those two were the easiest to talk to and right now she could use a distraction.

Sana walked out the front doors and in the direction of the courtyard where most kids hung out for lunch, but stopped short when she heard a familiar high pitched giggle. Her gaze zeroed in on the blonde hair and pink jacket immediately, situated in a sea of similar looking girls, all with trilling laughs. Vilde looked like she was having the time of her life. Noora and Eva flanked her sides, with Chris not far away, smiles bright and gleaming. Another ten of the twenty Pepsi-Max crew sat around them in a circle, including Ingrid and Sara, who completed the ensemble.

Sana felt a vicious stab in her abdomen as she looked at the scene. This was her worst nightmare. Tears gathered in her eyes and she had to tilt her head up to keep them from falling.

They don’t need you, she thought.

They don’t want you.

She quickly turned and rushed for the gate of the school. She couldn’t be here, it was too much. She needed to get away.

ONSDAG 14:00

Wandering around the streets of Oslo proved to do very little for Sana’s mood. It had started to rain about ten minutes into her escape and she hadn’t brought a coat or an umbrella, meaning she was now completely defenceless against the chill that was setting in. Her makeup was running from tears and her shoes were soaked through to the point where her socks had gone soggy. She’d also somehow managed to walk in the opposite direction of her house, giving her nowhere to go for shelter other than a local coffee shop. She was debating on whether to just brace herself and walk in looking like a mess when the street sign caught her eye. Sana thought she recognized the name from somewhere. Skovveien, huh.

She dug her phone out of her pocket and flicked through her messages, trying her best not to get more droplets of water on the screen. Sure enough, there it was in a text conversation with Isak from just a few weeks prior.

(Fra Isak)

                  Heiii

(Til Isak)

                  What do you want?

(Fra Isak)

                  Rude. Are you helping us move today?

(Til Isak)

                  Depends. What’s in it for me?

(Fra Isak)

                   My everlasting gratitude?

(Til Isak)

                   Haha no but really

(Fra Isak)

                    Free pizza? :)

(Til Isak)

                    Hmm… I’ll think about it

                    What’s the address?

(Fra Isak)

                   The Kollektivet first

                   But then Bygdøy allé

                   Right off of Skovveien

                   There’s a little back alleyway

(Til Isak)

                   I’ll check my schedule

(Fra Isak)

                   How kind of you Sanasol

                   I’m honoured

(Til Isak)

                   You should be, I’m very busy you know

                 Sana bit her lip. The last thing she wanted to do was cause Isak and Even more trouble; they had enough going on as it was. One of them was injured physically, and the other was probably dealing with the emotional trauma that comes from seeing one’s ex-best friends in public, but Sana was freezing and wet and really didn’t want to catch a cold. She grit her teeth together. It wasn’t like her life could get much worse anyway. With as much composure as she could muster, she steeled herself and walked in the direction of the apartment.  

                 She reached the door within a minute. Sana didn’t have to guess which buzzer was theirs; there was a rainbow flag on it, right next to the number 408. Despite the swirling chaos inside her head, she found herself grinning. To think that six months ago Isak was the kind of guy who kissed girls in bathrooms during parties and acted like a stereotypical hetero bro. He’d changed so much in such a short period of time and Sana was secretly very proud of him, even if she had trouble showing it.

She hesitated with her finger over the button. Would they let her in if she called up?  They might ignore it all together if they were trying to hide from the world. They didn’t come to school for a reason, Sana. Luckily, she didn’t have much time to stew in her thoughts, because suddenly the door to the stairwell was being pushed open by an elderly lady. She looked crotchety, with an old cable knit sweater wrapped around her shoulders and a face that said, “I’m old and not afraid to complain”. The woman made brief eye contact with Sana, giving her a once over and Sana had to hold her breath for fear she might say something to set her off. However, instead of making an ignorant comment, the lady shot her a small smile and held the door open wider for her. Sana blinked, but tried her best to grin back, nodding at her as she passed through.

                 With what was left of her nerve, she began to climb the stairs. It almost felt as if she was having an out of body experience. She was aware of her feet moving, of her heavy breathing and the constant dripping of water onto the carpeted floor, but she was simultaneously detached; like she was watching herself in a movie. Before she knew it, she was already at the door and her hand was poised to knock. She gave the wood one quick rapt with her knuckles and let her arms fall limply at her sides. Suddenly, the whole thing seemed like a terrible idea. She was only going to inconvenience the boys. What were you thinking?

There was shuffling on the other side of the door, a slight thump like someone had tripped and then the entrance was swinging open to reveal a very disheveled, very tired looking Even Bech Næsheim. He was wearing a pair of striped blue pyjama pants and a t-shirt that must have been Isak’s because it was a bit too short for his torso. His blonde hair was sticking up in several different directions, obviously lacking its usual product, and his blue eyes were sleepy.

“Sana,” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

Sana tried not to squirm under his gaze. She hadn’t thought of what to say when she got to this stage of her plan.

“I, uh- well Isak wasn’t at school and neither were you and I just- I have biology notes for him,” she tried.

“Sana, you’re soaking wet,” Even said.

His eyebrows were creased with concern and it made guilt flare up in Sana’s stomach again. She didn’t come here to worry him. But why did she come here then? She started to back track as fast as she could.

“You know what, it’s no big deal, I can give it to him another day. I’ll just go.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Even said, grabbing her shoulder lightly to stop her from turning away. “It’s fine. Come inside before you make yourself sick.”

He opened the door further and ushered her inside the apartment. She’d seen a few pictures of the place on Instagram and Facebook, but it looked much smaller in person. There were piles of boxes stacked throughout the living room and front hallway, teetering dangerously, like miniature models of the leaning tower of Pisa. The walls were cream and mostly bare, save for a few movie posters that were obviously Even’s, (the amount of Baz Luhrmann merch he had was almost concerning), and a lamp stood in the corner next to an old but comfortable looking couch that had a Star Wars blanket thrown over one of the arms. It was a little messy, and cramped, but very much Isak and Even.

Even disappeared for a moment and leaving Sana to drip awkwardly onto their hardwood floor. When he returned, he had an armful of towels and a sweater in his hands.

“We don’t have tons of clean clothes right now because there is something wrong with the dryer,” he said, huffing out a laugh. “But this should at least be a bit warmer than what you are wearing now.”

He smiled kindly at her and Sana’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“The bathroom is just down the hall if you wanna go change,” he said, pointing around the corner and towards the kitchen.

“Thank-you,” Sana said.

She quickly slipped inside and switched out of her wet shirt. She also tried to ring out her hijab the best she could and re-wrapped it so that it wasn’t clinging to her neck anymore. After washing her face and wiping away her streaky makeup, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back, tired and numb. She wasn’t sure she recognized the girl in front of her anymore. With a sigh, Sana hung her shirt over the side of the tub to dry and walked back out into the living room.

Even was waiting for her on the couch when she got there, two mugs of tea balanced on the edge of the coffee table. He glanced up at her, a tentative smile on his lips and patted the spot next him. Sana quietly obliged.

“Where’s Isak?” she asked, picking up one of the cups gingerly.

“He’s just in the other room sleeping,” Even said. “He’s had a rough couple of days.”

Sana grimaced. She knew the other boy was probably exhausted. She still didn’t know the extent of the damage, but judging by the look on his face when she’d pressed her fingers to his nose, he had definitely been in a state of shock. He probably had a mild concussion as well.

“Is he… alright?” she asked.

Even nodded, but a shadow passed over his face.

“His nose isn’t broken, thankfully. He took a couple of good hits, though. He’s also slightly concussed, but apart from that it’s mostly just bruises and cuts.”

Sana felt tears well up in her eyes again. Things were never supposed to end this way. She felt so incredibly stupid for inviting her brother and his friends. It hadn’t even occurred to her that Isak and Even would be there with their school mates. If she’d just thought ahead, none of this would have happened. She was about to open her mouth to say so when another tiny voice called down the hall.

“Evi, who is it? Where’d you go?”

Isak’s lanky frame came into view and Sana’s heart stopped all together. His face was a mottled canvas of blues, purples and blacks. His left eye, which was usually a clear moss green, was cloudy and nearly swollen shut. Burst blood vessels ran down his cheek in crisscrossed patterns, matching a nasty red gash that split his lip. He looked very pale and tired and a whole lot smaller than someone over six feet should. Sana had to force herself not to look away.

Even stood up and went over to him, pressing a feather light kiss on his forehead.

“Sorry, baby,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you. Sana came for a visit and to drop off some notes for you.”

Isak’s eyes drifted over to the slightly damp girl sitting on their couch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his lips broadened into a soft smile.

“Ah, Sanasol. How sweet of you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have put on something nicer,” he joked, gesturing to his sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt.

Sana shrugged her shoulders.

“I didn’t really plan it. It just sort of happened,” she said.  

She turned her gaze down to lap and fiddled with the string of Even’s hoodie. She didn’t know what to say or how to act. A large part of her was shocked that neither of the boys were yelling at her or telling her to leave. After all, she was the reason Isak’s face looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. She watched her hosts exchange a worried glance out of the corner of her eye. She felt Isak settle onto the couch next to her and saw Even’s feet move to do the same. A careful hand came up to her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“Is everything alright, Sana?” Isak asked.

Sana wanted to laugh. Things had never felt less alright in her entire life. One of her best friends was pissed at her and another had stabbed her in the back. She was being ousted from her own bus, ostracized by her classmates and her crush had gone ahead and kissed another girl after making her think that he liked her. Not to mention her brother had slammed his fist into one of the only people she felt she could trust and she had managed to bring up ugly past aggressions between Even and the balloon boys. The world had been crumbling around her for weeks and now it was all just laying at her feet in a giant heap. She didn’t realize she was crying again until Isak’s grip got tighter.

“Hey, hey, Sana, what’s wrong?” he asked, worry seeping into his voice.

Even shifted from where he was sitting and kneeled in front of her, offering up a box of tissues. Sana pulled a couple out and blew her nose.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?” Isak asked.

Sana did laugh this time, but it was devoid of humour.

“For everything,” she said. “For your face, for the karaoke bar, for showing up at your doorstep and dumping my shit on you when you’ve already had a hard week.”

Isak shook his head vigorously and rubbed his hand up and down her arm.

“You don’t have to apologize for any of that. What happened was not your fault, okay? It had nothing to do with you.”

“But it did,” Sana took a shaky breath. “Elias is my brother.”

Isak let out a chuckle and tilted his head to the side.

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

“You know?”

He nodded.

“Yeah, Even told me.”

Sana glanced at the boy kneeling in front of her. He was staring up at her with big, incredibly blue eyes, apology and regret written all over his face. For someone so young, he had experienced more than his fair share of pain and heartbreak. Sana cared about him an exuberant amount.

“You…” she started.

“Not everything,” Even said, his gaze landing on his boyfriend. “But most of it. An overview, at least.”

“I shouldn’t have invited them,” Sana said. “I didn’t think about it. I was being selfish. I wanted to see… well either way, it was stupid and I’m sorry.”

Even put his hand on her knee and gave her a soft, sad smile.

“There we go with that word again. Sana, listen to me. The fight wasn’t your fault. That was me and Mikael and Elias. You couldn’t have known that was going to happen, so please stop blaming yourself for it.”

Even punctuated the last part of the sentence by making her look directly into his eyes. Sana sniffled and accepted yet another tissue. Isak gently kicked out his foot to tap his boyfriend on the leg, catching the older boy’s attention.

“Okay, don’t you go blaming yourself either, dickhead,” he said. “I was the one who shoved him and Elias was the one who started throwing punches, so you had no part in it.”

If it had been anyone else saying it, the words would have probably sounded rude, but coming from Isak it only sounded fond. Leave it to a seventeen-year-old boy to make an insult seem endearing. Sana smiled a little despite herself. She really did love these boys.

“Alright, good. So now that we have that out of the way, do you wanna tell us why you skipped class and took an impromptu walk in the rain?”

ONSDAG 17:00

After pouring her heart out to the two of them about the Russ bus and Vilde and even about Yousef, Sana felt marginally better. Isak and Even had listened intently the whole time, offering noises of indigence and confusion at different moments and graciously not commenting when her voice cracked over certain parts. It was nice to let it all out and more importantly to have someone care enough to pay attention. By the time she had finished it had begun to grow dark outside.

“Screw them, Sanasol,” Isak finally said, his long fingers playing with Even’s pant leg.

At some point during her speech, Even had migrated back to the couch and wrapped himself around his boyfriend, so that they were now in a tangle of limbs. Sana usually hated PDA, but they looked so cozy and happy that she couldn’t even fault them for it. There was something about their interactions that made all her qualms about relationships melt away. Sana liked that they gave her space while simultaneously making her feel welcome and she liked that even though they were stupidly in love, they didn’t shove it down her throat the way Vilde and Magnus did. She was comfortable around them.

She smiled at Isak and his outburst.

“That’s easy for you to say, Isabell. They aren’t your friends.”

Isak spluttered and put his hand on his chest in mock offence.

“They are too my friends. Eva and I are best buddies. And Noora was my roommate not even a month and a half ago.”

“Yeah, but you don’t see them every day. And you have other people to hang out with. Like Jonas and Mahdi.”

“So, come hang out with us.” Isak said, pushing his toe into Sana’s thigh. “We’re your friends, you know.”

Sana fake glared and poked his foot, but felt her heart warm at the offer. Maybe she didn’t have to do this alone after all.

“But what about Elias and Mikael and Yousef?” she asked, risking a glance at Even.

He met her gaze softly. There were obvious nerves showing in his expression, but he still grinned at her. He brushed his fingers through Isak’s hair gently.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “We can deal with it when the time comes. For now, let’s just worry about the next minute.”

He and Isak shared some sort of private smile at the words and though it should have made Sana feel left out, it didn’t. She just smiled along with them.

“Okay,” she said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

[murasakiyuzu]

Um if ur still doing that writing prompt could u do #1 for noiz and Aoba because I love your noiao fanfic so much😊 OR koujaku and noiz with #33 whichever speaks to u more

FINALLY i have it.

since you mentioned liking my fanfic, i wrote a little post-ending story, using the two prompts because I love noiz and aoba Floofing All Over the Place and i also love koujaku plotting noizs demise. what a great relationship. 

i hope ull like it! (and excuse any typo/grammar mistakes, i wrote half of this between 2am and 8am, ill fix things up slowly lm a o)

On AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10830039

Was itreally a “reception” if it was just a bunch ofmid-twenties-to-late-thirties men in yukata drinking sake and laughing loudlyaround a coffee table? That’s what Noiz asked himself, watching Mizuki’sfriends make jabs at each other with a cup held loosely on his fingers.

Heshouldn’t have expected anything different, really. Mizuki and Sei didn’t suitthe idea of wedding receptions Noiz had constructed from the many parties hehad to—begrudgingly—attend. One of them being Agnes and Emilia’s; he still had headachesjust from remembering the sheer extravagancy of the celebration. What kind ofwedding reception lasted two days?

Mizuki andSei were the very opposite of that. Firstly, Sei hated crowds and noisiness, sothere was no way a big party would’ve been a comfortable endeavor for him.

Secondly,Mizuki still hated spending money, the cheapskate.

But thenagain, Noiz thought with a snort as his lips touched the rim of his sake cup,Mizuki would’ve gladly gone bankrupt paying for a party if it was for Sei. Thishuge house they were in right now was proof of that; picture frames of thecouple’s shared life littering the walls and every flat surface sans the floor.

So, insteadof a big party with a big cake, famous photographers and hundreds of strangersin crisp suits and long dresses… Mizuki and Sei settled for a small gatheringin their living room, counting with only the wedding ceremony’s few guests. SeragakiTae, Haruka and Nine decided to forgo the little celebration, but it was stillquite rowdy; Koujaku and Mizuki exchanged little stories from their growing uptogether, and Mizuki’s teammates tackled them with their own perspectives, dragginggraceless guffaws from each other.

The oneperson that could mind it, though, was fast asleep, head lolling on Mizuki’sshoulder. Mizuki had tried to stop Sei from sleeping so early, it’ll mess up your sleep schedule you dummy,but his husband ultimately curled up along his side on the sofa and dozed off.Mizuki simply wrapped a supporting arm around his waist and kept onentertaining his guests with an easy smile.

Noiz didn’treally have much to contribute, so he contented himself with watching the trading of quips and teasingover the coffee table. The sake didn’t inebriate him but set pleasant, simmeringwarmth under his skin, enough that he quickly discarded his suit jacket and tie,undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt. There was only one thing botheringhim as his gaze floated towards the empty spot beside him, the grey zabuton gonecold but still rumpled under the weight that was there before.

Where theheck was Aoba?

To thinkAoba had told his father that he would keepthese delinquents in line, and now he was gone. It had been almost twentyminutes since Noiz had returned from the bathroom and Mizuki told him Aoba hadleft for a moment, waving him off dismissively when Noiz asked where he went.

Aftersending all the wedding pictures Theo demanded from him (I may not be able to take the time off to attend it but you’ll be myeyes at their wedding, Wim!), Noiz got up from the floor with a grunt,slipping the phone back into his pants’ pocket.

“I’mgonna look for Aoba,” he let Mizuki know, not waiting for any vocalresponse since his friend was busy sneering and playfully kicking Koujaku’sshoulder.

The raucouslaughter and banter ebbed away as Noiz stepped away from the living room. As heroamed around the house, he thought of where Aoba could be, and came up withnothing; the house was spacious but didn’t exactly count with many rooms. Havingfound the kitchen and bathroom empty, he had to move to the less likely places.He wasn’t surprised to find the dark storage room uninhabited, as well as Mizukiand Sei’s bedroom.

The lastroom was a place he hadn’t, in fact, visited before. Noiz slid the door openwith his shoulders set stiffly, worrying he was snooping around too much andinvading Sei’s privacy. Noiz didn’t worry or care for Mizuki’s privacy,obviously.

The firstthing he noticed was the array of colorful canvases spread around the room,some propped up on easels while others were leaning against the walls. Noizremembered vaguely that Aoba told him about Sei’s sudden interest in art, butNoiz never imagined it was something to this scale.

Splotchesof bright neon colors and thick dark lines might’ve momentarily distracted Noizfrom the next obvious thing in the room, but it didn’t take long for Noiz’sgaze to fall upon the open doors on the other side of the room, displaying the dimlylit lawn and trees’ roots.

That, andAoba’s back as he sat with his legs folded on the edge of the outer corridor. The tussled hair spilling between his shoulder bladeswas a strong contrast to the deeper blue of his yukata.

With hiseyes narrowed, Noiz closed the door behind him silently, padding towards thelonely figure staring out at the yard.

“Aoba.”

The otherman flinched at the sound of his voice. But what made Noiz raise an eyebrow wasthe sputter of repressed laughter that followed. Before he could call out tohim again, however, Aoba twisted around to look at him.

Almost atthe same time Noiz registered the flushed cheeks and wobbly grin pulled acrossAoba’s features, his green eyes zeroed in on the bottle of sake between hisboyfriend’s legs, pale thighs peeking through the opening of his blue yukata.

“Noiz~”Aoba greeted with a syrupy lilt to his voice, visibly swaying in place. Noiz startledout of his leering and blinked down at Aoba, momentarily torn between grimacingand snorting.

“Areyou drunk?”

Aobasputtered with maybe a bit too much spit involved.

“No! I’m okay! I can’t feel my toes,though!”

Noizcouldn’t hold back a breathy laugh. He plopped down beside Aoba, feelings hishazy eyes boring into his profile. As Noiz let his legs dangle over the edge, thegrass blades tickled at the tips of his toes through his socks, moist with dew.

Outside, inthe shadows of the room’s artificial lighting, they were bathed in softmoonlight. The sky was clear and cloudless, the spring chill falling over themlike a veil. Against the deep blue undertones, strokes of silver illuminatedAoba’s glassy eyes, the gentle line of his nose and cheekbones as he continued to look at Noiz with fawning eyes.

“Whatis it?” Noiz asked, smiling crookedly.

Aobablinked, body shaking momentarily with a silent hiccup. Then, his browsupturned minutely and his hazel eyes flashed with something—something that Noizquickly realized with a shock that was tears,welling up fast and drip dropping down Aoba’s pink cheeks.

Noiz openedhis mouth uselessly. Even if he had any words, Aoba would have easily—andliterally—blown them away as he slapped his hands on each side of Noiz’s faceand stumbled through his next sentence.

“W-why…are you so pretty, you bastard?”

Aoba was glaring at him as Noiz simply stared, lipsgaping dumbly like a fish’s. Their long silence was broken by a hiccup fromAoba, which seemed to fling him into another rampage.

“Y-you’reso freakin’ pretty with your crazy green eyes and s-soft hair, it’s so—hic!—so hard on me, you know? Do youknow how many times I took out—hic!—crumpledpapers with kiss marks and phone numbers from your s-suit pockets on laundryday? You don’t even realize they’rethere, do you!”

“I doknow they’re there,” Noiz grumbled, eyebrows twisted in a frown. “Ijust don’t care.”

“Then care!” Aoba cried, squeezing Noiz’sface harder between his splayed hands. Noiz winced slightly. “I get s-soangry when I see those numbers with hopeful women’s names I’m just ughhh, I know you can’t wear the ring atthe office and—hic!—it’s not awedding ring anyway, and even if we got—hic!—married,it’d be bad if people knew but if people doesn’t know, then they think theyhave a chance with you and I’m just… ughhhh!”

Noizgrinned—as much as he could with his lips smooshed between his cheeks. Deepdown, but not as deep as it probably should be, he was happy that Aoba wasactually capable of this much possessiveness. Aoba never showed this side ofhim, at least not while sober. It filled him with faint satisfaction, but healso thought Aoba shouldn’t even think of these things.

“Theydon’t have a chance anyway. You know that.”

“I knooow,” Aoba moaned stubbornly,and Noiz huffed out a laugh. “I just- I want everyone to know, like, yeah,this gorgeous guy is mine! I see him naked on a daily basis and we use the sameshampoo!”

“God,Aoba,” Noiz laughed and Aoba dropped his hands from his cheeks to hisshoulders, dropping his head.

“Can Itell you a secret?” Aoba queried after a short moment of quietness.

“Whatis it?”

“I’mactually super drunk.”

Noiz snorted.

“Thissake is the best shit I’ve ever tasted and I’ve completely lost sense of howmuch I can drink before I’m fucking smashed,” Aoba explained, looking upat Noiz under wet eyelashes. His sudden crying spell seemed to have gone away.

Noiz smootheda hand over his back. “I know.”

“Noiz…I love you.”

There wassomething dangerously heart-wrenching about hearing these words amidst the slurof inebriation in Aoba’s tongue. Noiz gulped.

“Ilove you too.”

Aobashifted closer, nuzzling his nose and his cheek against the line of Noiz’s jaw,burrowing his face on his neck. Noiz distantly heard the sound of the sake bottlefalling over the edge of the platform.

“You…smell really good,” Aoba marveled with his breath puffing against Noiz’sskin, made hotter with the buzz of alcohol in his veins.

Noiz shivered, trying to rein in the arousal raising the hairs on his arms and legs. That was the least appropriate situation for sex—even if he usually didn’t care for that. It was hardly worth the very real possibility of Mizuki catching them in the act and making things weird for the next many months to come.

“Noiz…please, marry m…”

Wide-eyed,Noiz waited for the rest of the sentence. It didn’t come as a surprise,however, when he heard and felt the light snoring on his neck. A small, softsmile bloomed in his face.

When Noizreturned to the living room, having carefully carried Aoba from Sei’s studio,the room was almost completely vacated. The coffee table was still litteredwith empty cups and plates which earlier carried snacks. The guys from DryJuice were nowhere to be seen, and even Mizuki and Sei weren’t on the sofaanymore. Instead, Koujaku was sitting on one corner, contemplating the unlitcigarette between his fingers before raising his eyes to the newcomers.

Koujaku’seyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as Noiz walked up to the other corner of thesofa and sat there soundlessly, heaving Aoba onto his lap. His boyfriend curledup against his chest like a cat, still deep in slumber. His ponytail was almostcompletely undone, falling in haphazard strands over his face.

Noizbreathed.

“Somethingabout you makes me want to commit extreme violence,” Koujaku promptlysaid, lips curling in blatant distaste as he side-eyed Noiz.

“That’sa lot of complicated words coming from you,” Noiz retorted with an amused grin.

Koujakusneered at him, but before he could get an insult in, Aoba was tightening hishand on Noiz’s shirt, frowning.

“N-noo… I’m not… gonna wear a whitedress, Noiz…”

Noizblinked down at his boyfriend, and from Koujaku’s “absolutely disgusted” expression, he had heardAoba’s words just as clearly.

“Oh,you two finally showed up!” Mizuki said with a chipper tone as hereentered the living room, having changed his yukata for sweats. Then, his gazemoved from Noiz and Aoba to Koujaku. A teasing grin slowly stretched across hisface.

“Third-wheelin’it like a champ, I see.”

Koujakusimply flipped him the bird and Mizuki laughed heartily.

“Willyou two sleep over?” He asked, turning his eyes back to Noiz. “Wedon’t have a guest room but I can get out the futons for you. You can use Sei’sstudio, there’s enough space there.”

Noizthought it over for a moment. He’d prefer sleeping on a regular bed any givenday, but it was a bit too late already to bother Tae-san. He nodded in agreement.

“Alrightthen, I’ll fix you guys up,” Mizuki said with a bright smile.

“AndI’m leaving,” Koujaku announced, sentence arcing into a yawn that hequickly muffled with a hand. “Day starts early tomorrow. Again,congratulations on your marriage, Mizuki.”

Theyexchanged a quick hug, slapping each other’s back for good measure beforeparting. Then, Koujaku turned a glare towards Noiz.

“And Idon’t accept you yet. Aoba is too good for you.”

“Thatis true,” Noiz acquiesced coolly. Koujaku merely squinted at him even morethreateningly and left the living room. When the front door clicked shut,Mizuki sighed.

“Don’tmind this guy. He’s just too protective; Aoba’s been like a little brother tohim since forever.”

“Ithought he was pissed off because he actually has a thing for Aoba.”

Mizukisnorted. “As far as I know, he’s straight as a ruler, but,” heshrugged. “Who knows? Aoba had his fair share of admirers growing up.Koujaku’s always been there, so maybe I just didn’t notice. I don’t think it’slike that, though. I mean, imagine protecting something your whole life, andthen this something sleeps with this guy you hate?”

“Oh,so you finally accept he hates me?” Noiz asked, a brow cocked up.

Mizukishrugged again. “I haven’t given up on hope completely. If you guys can’tbond over your protective instincts for Aoba, then I guess nothing else can bringyou together. Just try jumping in front of a bullet for Aoba or something; thatwould probably touch Koujaku.”

“Don’ttempt me,” Noiz said under his breath, prompting a laugh from Mizuki. Theredhead turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner, humming under hisbreath as he went after the guest futons.

Noiz lookedup at the ceiling, wrapping his arms a little bit tighter around Aoba’s frame.He glanced at the silver-colored ring on his finger, which had been there forso long already that he barely ever thought of it. The weight of it on hisfinger was simply part of his body; the temperature was the same as his skin.It was so integral to his person that more than once he only remembered to takeit off when he was in his car, in front of his office.

Aobagrumbled something unintelligible under his breath and Noiz fondly looked downat his peaceful expression.

All ofAoba’s worries and anxieties… they could talk about that tomorrow. If Aobadidn’t deny every word, that is. And then, maybe they could talk aboutmarriage.

Noiz’sfingertip trailed easily over the ring on Aoba’s finger, twin to his own. Itwas but a slight bump, like the raised skin of a scar long healed. The sametemperature, a part of his body.

Leaning hishead on the back of the sofa, Noiz played with the idea of not removing hisring before heading to work on Monday.

[wellesleyunderground]

Katahdin (Rangley, ME to Baxter Peak, Northern Terminus) by Allison Broadwater ‘09 and AJ

It took 184 days, 2189 miles, and 4,370,000 steps, but we finally made the summit of Katahdin around noon on October, 13. But before that, we had to finish the mountains of southern Maine, make it through the 100 mile wilderness, and ford 10 streams and rivers. 

Our first ford came two days before Monson, before the 100 mile wilderness. There were no signs or warnings like elsewhere on the trail. Just one white blaze on the south shore of a river and one blaze on the north shore. We had thought about it so much that when it came time to cross, it was a huge deal. It shouldn’t have been though, there was nothing too bad about it. It was cold and wet and you have to take your boots off, but you warm back up pretty quickly. We didn’t even lose any oxen. 

Arriving in Monson, we made arrangements to stay at Shaw’s, an AT staple going back decades. At the hostel, we had a home cooked dinner (meatloaf, potatoes, rolls, salad). The strange part, though, was that this hostel probably had 15 hikers staying that night and we only recognized one of them. Not to say that we know every single northbound hiker, but it’s strange to run into someone new at this point in our hike. Now there were 14 new faces. 

Monson is the standard stop before entering the 100 mile wilderness and most people come into town for a week of supplies. It is also the last trail town before Katahdin. This means that northbound hikers worried about weather or the October 15 deadline could jump ahead to Monson to make sure that they can climb Katahdin. We never really found out for sure, but we assumed this was the reason for so many new faces in Monson. 

Back in the Whites, we were doing a large load of group laundry and I came up short a pair of pants. This meant that, in the Maine autumn, I only had gym shorts to hike in. Monson seemed like a groovy little town but it didn’t look like a town that would have an REI, or Walmart, or even a souvenir shop that sold sweatpants with sparkly writing on the butt. Luckily, for “thrift store prices” the hostel owner sold me a pretty nice pair of lightly worn smart wool tights. This was a good thing. The nights in the 100 mile dipped below freezing and we have both lost some body insulation over our journey. 

We carried exactly 7 days of food with us, plenty for 6 days in the forest and 1 day up and down Katahdin. The 100 mile wilderness is the largest expanse of forest through the most isolated part of the trail. The party line is that there is no way to re supply or get rescued from the forest except back the way you came in. In reality, this wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was definitely more isolated than any other part of the trail. 

Day 1 in the wilderness had only one major climb but we didn’t make it as far as we had planned and ended up camping at a shelter 4 miles short of our goal. This was a big deal because of how tight our supplies were stretched. To make matters worse, day two ended the same way- a couple miles short. At least we were able to get cell reception on a mountaintop and let our families know we were still alive. Day three was more of the same, but we didn’t have the luxury to stop at nightfall- again short of our goal. We knew that rain had been forecast for our day 4 and that day would have three mountains, with one open summit. We wanted to get as much of that as possible done without rain. Our little bubble of hikers stopped at a nice campground and had a fire going by the time we got there. It was hard, but we managed to get water and actually put our packs back on to get a few more miles done in the dark. We camped on top of cold, windy, cold Hay mountain in a makeshift tent spot. We got our earliest start ever the next morning to get some hiking done before the rain. We actually got to the top of our last mountain before Katahdin, White Cap, before it rained. This was great because once the rain started, about 9am, it came down hard and lasted all day long. It was very, very cold. The internal debate was whether to put my cotton gloves (why do I even have these?!) on to keep my hands from going numb. They would never dry and wouldn’t be very warm, but would be better than nothing. In the end, I decided to put them on and it was 100% the right decision. 

It rained while we ate lunch. It rained through a river ford. It rained while we put up the tent and cooked dinner. At times it turned to sleet, but never snowed. Crawling into the tent wearing like 5 layers, all soaked, was super not fun. But it got better eventually! We threw on our one dry set of clothes and got into our sleeping bags and eventually didn’t notice how wet everything was. 

I took a misstep across a bog

The next day was hovering in the 20s when we woke up. Putting on our dripping, frozen socks and shoes we decided that it wasn’t in the cards to do any morning hiking. We built a fire with wet wood and our awesome outdoors skills and warmed up ourselves and dried our clothes a little. We managed to leave that day, day 5, around 10:30 in the morning. We did 19 miles before throwing our tent down in a dirt parking lot. The next day we did 18 to get us successfully out of the 100 mile.

First view of Katahdin. 16 miles as the crow flies, 40 trail miles

Finally, we were back in civilization, at least circa 1980: there was no cell coverage and nobody accepted credit cards. But at least the road was paved for, like, a half mile before turning into gravel. We had arrived at Abol Bridge! Closest town: Millinocket, 11 miles away. 

We had known about Millinocket since about Harpers Ferry because the ATC had posted signs from Baxter officials pleading with thru hikers to 1) walk in small groups, 2) not stand on the Katahdin sign, and 3) not bring alcohol into the park. This last point was hammered home with the statement, “Save the drinking for Millinocket!” This gave us two impressions, that either the ATC was throwing Millinocket under the bus or Millinocket was party central.

Not to put down Millinocket, it was a fine town, but they were not cultivating anywhere close to the party atmosphere we were expecting. So because of that, it was kind of boring. It could stand to be spiced up a little. Maybe a change in the town slogan would help. I don’t know if they already have a slogan, but we thought of better ones. Allison and I each came up with one, but I won’t reveal who thought of which, so as to not bias the vote. There is the cruddy, plain slogan, “Come rock it in Millinocket!” Or the clearly better, “Don’t Millinocket ’til you try it!” We will let the voters decide. 

The most incredible part of leaving the 100 mile was knowing that the saint, Steve Broadwater, was somewhere in Millinocket in a warm dry cabin waiting to pick us up after our summit. We kept missing meeting up with him the day we arrived at Abol bridge. How did anyone make plans before cell phones?! But the next day, after our stay in the thru hiker exclusive campground The Birches, we finally met him before our climb and he had brought with him something that has been on my mind for about 6 months: pepperoni rolls! After eating a half dozen, we were ready to climb. 

One of the best quotes ever

Katahdin itself was everything we had been told. It was the hardest, steepest, rockiest mountain on the trail. It had hands down the best views too. We made it to the top in record time to beat the impending rainstorm. We hung out at the summit long enough to eat lunch and take pictures, then booked it back down, only losing the trail a few times. Steve met us in the parking lot with more pepperoni rolls after our 7 hour hike up and down the mountain.

Our time in Maine was concluded in spectacular fashion in a secluded (though really all of Maine is secluded) cabin, spending an entire day eating, propping our feet up, watching TV, and airing out our soaked.. everything. A few trips to fast food, a couple real dinners, and a trip to the AT cafe finished up our experience in Vacationland. I don’t know if Maine really is The Way Life Should Be, but it was unlike anywhere I have ever been, and we liked that. 

I don’t know how we did it. On some days I couldn’t even tell you why we were doing it. But in the end, we did it- and we did it how we wanted. Our journey wasn’t heroic or impossible. It wasn’t something we were thrown into against our will. It wasn’t even something that helped anyone else. But it was our journey. In the end, if the only thing we accomplished was reaching a goal that existed solely in our own minds, then I’m still extremely proud of it. What we learned about Appalachia, the wilderness, backpacking, and each other are things that we will remember for the rest of our lives.

AJ

P.S.

Next stop: Virginia! (After a 22 hour drive). We skipped some miles before our week of canoeing down the Shenandoah back in June. So we have to wrap up those miles and then, finally, home! This won’t be our last post though. We will have a few more about what gear we loved or hated and some pictures that never made it into others.

Reposted, with permission, from Allison Broadwater’s blog. For context, be sure to read the origin story of this trip.

[drlindamurraytenacity-blog]

WHAT FOLLOWS IS A BOOK - COMPLETELY UNEDITED-- TO READ THE EARLIEST ENTRIES GO TO THE OLDEST BLOGS © Dr Linda Murray Dishes, Bottles, and Diapers-----I have many memories of the kitchen in our house in Scotland. This is probably because I spent a lot of time in this room. By the time I was five I could get my baby brother his bottle and heat it up, I could wash out dishes and dirty bottles in the sink. I had to stand on a chair to do it but I managed. I had also learned how to change a wet diaper. I needed to help my mother she was ill and cried a lot. Kevin was also my responsibility and my ‘birthday present’. Everyone was so proud of me because I was such a big help. But I realize now that this was not a good thing for me. Who was mothering me? Tools—I have a memory of an elderly man who lived in the flat next door I was attached to. It seems like the was time I spent with him and this time must have something to do with carpentry. He stopped us when we were leaving the house for out last time. It would not have been remembered if it had not been related to something he gave to me and me only. It was a hole rasp and a plane both very old. He said he wanted me to remember that I was special. He told me that these were very old and he wanted me to have them since he said that I was going to be a builder. I was not sure what he was saying about me bur I know now. He said to take good care of them since they were special as I was special. I remember meeting him between the side by side duplexes just as we were leaving out flat forever. I was sad so sad to leave and he wanted me to take something that belonged to him when I was leaving and he tried to make me feel better. I don’t know how the plane was transported to Canada but I found them both in my fathers work shop on 610 Silverstone street. I have them both still and through many purges. I have no memory of our time together on wood crafts I was but the plane reminds me I had been fascinated by this old tool when he used it and he explained how to use it. I felt I was loved by this little old man and I had the same feelings even when I did not know how to label them. I think my father thought this was an inappropriate gift for me to have and took them for me and put them in one of our boxes. I was so sad to leave this old man so sad. Yes, I still have both of the tools in my workshop and the plain still workes. The Bannister------I remember that in the building at 10 Shilling Hill there was a large bannister on the staircase. It was huge and had a great big curve at the end of it. I remember all of us kids sliding down this bannister. My gran did not want us doing this. Why I don't know. I guess she was scared that one of us would get hurt. I remember that whenever my gran was not around that my aunt and my grandfather would let us slide down all of the way and they would catch us at the bottom so that we would not get hurt on our landings. Its funny all of the stupid little things you remember from your childhood. I had little continuity in my early life so all of my memories are just like little single slides in a movie. The snap shots are bright and clear but the beginnings and ends of the experiences are completely absent. Kim and the Brewery-----When I was in grade three I had a friend named Kim. She and I would walk home from school each day. Kim’s father was an important man in a brewery close to my grandmother’s shop. We would walk through the brewery after school each day. What an amazing place this was. I was fascinated with the process. Everyone knew Kim's dad so all of the workers talked to us and answered our questions. The smells were inviting had also been told to keep out of the place so going was what my father called 'direct disobedience' (more on this later) so this was risk taking behaviour. I still remember these walks whenever I smell beer or hops. The Caravan------After our mother had died I remember being taken on a road trip by my father. We were all singing in the car together. We sang 'Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley'. We were meeting some of my dad’s friends and were staying overnight in a small caravan. A caravan is like a small trailer for camping. I cant remember how long we stayed but I have some fantastic memories of the trip and of my dad's friends. We stayed up late and played cards and when he put us to bed he had made us small sleeping bags out of wool blankets. He had sewn them himself by hand so that we would be warm. There was something magical about this trip for me I am not sure what it was but I still love to camp today and I am very good with starting campfires. It was like I was a natural pyromaniac. Mince, Potatoes, and Peas-----The semi-private primary school we attended provided milk for students in the morning and in the afternoon and it also provided a hot lunch. I liked getting lunch at school especially when they were serving mince, potatoes, and peas. Mince is a ground beef dinner where the hamburger is fried and a brown gravy sauce is made using flower, the drippings of the meat and some Bistro gravy mix. I had told one of the cooks that this was my favourite lunch and that they made mince really well. I would go up to get my lunch and the cook always gave me extra mince and peas because I liked it so much. She would smile and give me a quick wink. This is a really warm and fuzzy memory. This dish is still one of my favourite meals, especially on a cold day. Wetting Myself---I was lucky the first two years of school to have such a loving teacher. I was not so lucky when I began my third year. I don't remember the name of this teacher but she was miserable. She took all of the joy out of learning anything. She would make us come up to the front of class for oral reading. We would march up two at a time and have us read out loud. On one of these days I was to read with another boy in the class. So there we stood by her desk and read. Suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom. I tried to tell her and she kept reprimanding me for interrupting the boy who was reading. Then it was my turn. And I could not concentrate. I needed to go to the bathroom so badly. I kept asking to leave but she was adamant that I was not getting to go to the bathroom until we were finished reading. Well that just wasn't soon enough for me. I wet myself standing on the spot. The urine went all over the floor and soaked everything I was wearing. Finally she let me go to the bathroom. She called the principal to take care of my wet clothes. This was brutal. I had to walk home with wet underwear, wet socks and wet shoes. Luckily I had worn my kilt that day and because it was so heavy it pulled down so  my kilt stayed dry. My father was furious and the principal wasn’t so impressed either. I don't remember much of the rest of the time I spent in this bitches class. Underwear ---Third grade at this school in Scotland was brutal after the first two years with Miss. Grace. And our lives were significantly disorganized as my father tried to cope as a single father even with my grandmothers ‘help’. Getting things together in the mornings was tough and lots of things were forgotten. The school I attended had us in uniforms. White shirt, maroon Blazer, grey pants and grey skirts or kilts. We had grey socks and black underwear. We also wore grey and maroon ties. It was standard stuff for British school children. You could tell which school every child belonged to by their uniforms so you could get into major trouble if you misbehaved going to or coming from school. We all had regulation gym shorts also. The rule was that you had to wear a white t-shirt and black shorts. Sometimes kids forgot their gym clothing and they would be made to sit out of gym class while all the other kids played. One day I forgot to bring my gym clothing and the gym teacher who was getting angry with kids forgetting their gym clothing, went nuts. She made those of us without the proper uniform attire to strip to our underwear and take part like that. I was sick to my stomach that I had to strip to my underwear. This was almost about the same time that I had wet myself in front of the whole class. Knitting------In grade three we also all learned to knit in our classes. We would have a craft teacher come into the class with all of the supplies and she would instruct step by step. I loved these times, because I was already able to knit. I remember either my mother, aunt and/or gran teaching me at home. The teacher showered me with praise for doing such a good job. Most of the students were not interested. The policy in class was that both boys and girls should learn to knit, but many were not happy with the situation. I loved this time with the crafts teacher. And my love of crafts to this day has helped me immensely. I have weathered many depressions with getting myself doing some craft. “Bring the past only if you are going to build from it” . . . Dominico Estrada . . .sp J.F.K.----In 1963, when I was eight years old, my father decided to leave Scotland for Canada. In preparation he needed to find us a nanny to come to Canada with us. To find a nanny he decided to advertize for one in the local newspaper. A local paper sent a photographer to take our pictures for the article. We were to leave right after/before Christmas. I remember sitting on the couch with my brothers for our picture. The TV was on and the show was interrupted for a special news bulletin. The news was about the shooting of John F. Kennedy. The news show actually showed the footage of him being shot over and over again. I knew that this was news about America and I knew that Canada was considered part of North America and I was scared. I felt horrible that this was happening in America. I did not need this on top of everything else. They shoot people over there. They kill their leaders. I was terrified inside. But I couldn't let it out. More loss. More fear, more loss of control. I was shaking on the inside. I told my dad that I did not want to go. But it wasn't up to me! Star Weekly----In the evening my father used to let us watch a television show after dinner. The favoured TV show was a musical show called Star Weekly. This show presented popular groups and musicians. On one of these shows the Beatles were featured. Wow, their first live broadcast and we were watching it. I knew they were good but I had no idea just how popular they were going get. We learned all of their early songs and when they eventually became a hit in the United States and Canada. We were ahead of our friends and classmates and knew the words to their hits.

[wetmalissa-blog]

Exploring Convenience Wetting

An idea popped into my head one morning when I stepped into the shower. Before I turned the water on I decided I wanted to pee right then and there (for the sexual thrill, of course!) I stood with my legs tight together and released my morning torrent. But a detail struck me! The process was remarkably silent. My pee was just streaming down my legs, branching off to the backs of my thighs and spiraling around my calves all the way down to the bottoms of my feet, where it would pool and ripple before finding its way to the drain. I peed harder to see if it would be any noisier than the feint hiss it made slowly spraying from my pussy. The small rivers turned into a waterfall between my legs, clinging to the sides of my inner thighs, forming a beautiful, dancing, golden curtain before spiraling around my knees and jettisoning in small streams off my calves to splatter on the ground. If I peed really hard it would form a powerful arc, shooting high off my inner thigh and making a lot of noise against the cold tile floor. As you can tell it had a hypnotizing effect on me. The real take-away from this little experiment was that if I restrained the flow just right, the process was virtually silent! And I was in the shower so not only was I standing on a noisy tiled floor, I was standing in a small, enclosed, noisy tiled room! Again-- hardly any sound! (At least until it poured down the drain.) It dawned on me that with the right skirt this could be a discreet and convenient way to pee in public! I decided that this theory needed to be tested.

I hardly got any work done at work. I was too busy imagining how the rest of my day would go! Water was my constant companion and the bathroom became a forbidden zone. When I got home at 1:30, like I usually do, my bladder was uncomfortably loaded. The nagging pressure in my groin excited me as it mounted. Especially because I knew my moment of relief would happen in public. But first I needed to pick out my outfit, and more importantly my skirt! In order for it to work like it did in my shower simulation I first needed to discard my panties. Going commando in pants is one thing, and not all that uncommon for me, but being pantiless with a skirt is something I’ve only ever done on rare occasions. It honestly made my experience that much more exciting! (I’m sure that’ll be evident as the story progresses!) I picked out my light grey, high-wasted, corduroy skirt that buttons together down the middle and comes down to mid-thigh. It’s perfect because its kind of a loose fit on my thighs and the stiff fabric makes it hover over them without too much clinging. I also wore a black tank top with a jean jacket and my auburn converse. It was actually a pretty cute outfit! At this point though I really had to go—not pee pee dance desperate but it was getting pretty bad. It occurred to me that in the right circumstances I could pee in this outfit multiple times on the same day! I grabbed a towel from my dryer (the same one I used for my Tuesday story!!!) and my purse and headed out—but not before downing a cold glass of water!

I wanted to go to a store again, and actually go IN the store this time! I drove to a nice shoe store (which will remain nameless) and strolled inside. I could feel the cool air currents against my bare pussy as I walked and the knowledge of what I planned to do was making me moist. The memory of my previous experience was actually giving me a lot of confidence. Plus I wouldn’t even have to worry about pee stains on my pants giving me away! I browsed the aisles looking for one with suitable privacy. Although the idea of having an ‘accident’ in front of somebody again really excited me, I wasn’t very keen on getting in trouble with any store staff. Eventually I found a pair of boots that I wanted to try on and a naughty thought popped into my mind. Suddenly I heard a friendly voice from over my shoulder, “Are finding everything alright?”

I spun around and matched her smile, “Oh, yes! I’m just browsing.” She was a young black girl, about my height, dressed nicely and wearing a nametag I couldn’t read. She then told me what I imagine her usual spiel was: that if I needed anything she’d be up front. I was tempted to stage an accident right there—she would probably feel sorry for me and at least let me run out of the store in embarrassment. But I remained composed, let her walk away, and grabbed the boots I wanted to try.

I sat on a bench, pretty aware that if I were to spread my legs my vagina would be on display for anybody who passed by. Then I took off my convers, and my socks too, and took all the paper stuff out of the boots. Once I got them on I stood up and assessed myself. They were dark brown and came up to the thickest part of my calves, just below my knees. One: they were a little big, and two: that was perfect because I needed to pee and I wanted them to capture as much as possible. I walked over to one of those slanted mirrors and looked down at the reflection of my legs. What I was about to do was so wrong but I had come too far to back out now! So I held my legs tightly together, let my arms hang loose, took a deep breath… and exhaled.

I didn’t feel any wetness at first. In fact I made the mistake of thinking I wasn’t pushing hard enough! I guess an appropriate term is ‘over-corrected’. In an instant there was pee streaming down my thighs, branching out every which way, flowing into the legs of the loose boots I was wearing. I concentrated hard to try and stop the release—I had only wanted to do a short burst! But I was pissing uncontrollably at this point and my branching stream had become a waterfall torrent clinging to my legs. I started to feel warm piss pooling in the boots around my feet and quickly rise above my ankles. Some of my pee started to shoot in streams off my calves down onto the carpet! But there was nobody nearby to hear the quiet splatter (and I suspect that even if there were the store music would have sufficiently drowned it out). I was so turned on I stopped trying to cut the flow entirely and just let my bladder do what it had to. I was peeing even harder now and a small puddle on the floor started to form— but most of it was still going in the boots! I looked down at the angled mirror and got a nice picture of what I looked like from the ground. Holding my thighs together that tightly and peeing that hard made my piss spread wildly from my pussy to the sides of my legs. From the reflection in the mirror you could see how the pee was gushing around my upper thighs farther up my skirt! Some of it was even shooting to the against the inside of my skirt and dripping off the bottom. I threw my head up in relief and ecstasy, closed my eyes, sighed, and peed until I couldn’t anymore.

Once I was finished I carefully took the boots off (making sure not to spill any of my pee) and placed them back on the shelf. I felt so incredibly naughty and knew that some poor soul would inevitably find it! My legs and feet were glistening and warm and there was a wet circle on the carpet about 1½ feet in diameter where I had stood. And thank god nothing showed on my skirt! I used the paper bunches from the boots to wipe my feet dry before placing them carefully on top of the lake of piss inside each boot. Then I put my socks and convers back on and made my way to the exit with my heart absolutely racing! As I passed by the girl behind the register, I smiled and waved goodbye to her like any innocent shopper would do. She reciprocated, not suspecting a thing.

When I got to my car I wiped my legs and crotch with my towel and sat down in the drivers seat. I was still breathing heavily from all the excitement. I could still feel warm piss dripping from my yearning pussy and immediately unbuttoned the front of my skirt to masturbate! When I finished (which didn’t take long!) I started to plan out the rest of my day: go to class in the evening, head to a bookstore afterwards to study, and drink a lot of liquids during it all! And, most importantly, find a chance to do that again!

Like I said earlier, I go to class on Monday and Wednesday evenings. The building I have to go to is pretty deep in the city and I prefer taking the subway to fighting traffic (which is an absolute joke in city limits). There’s a station not too far from my house so I can drive there and take the rest of the way by train. I had already started drinking some sweet tea before I got home from the shoe store to grab my computer bag and get ready for class, so my bladder didn’t have much of a reprieve. By the time I stepped on the train I was already desperate enough to stage an accident! But I’m a stickler for adhering to a plan so I continued holding. The classrooms in my college are in kind of semi-circle shape, with ascending rows of chairs and long, curved desks that face the lecturer. What I realized part way into class is that the desks are just tops, so there no wall in front to shield my legs from whoever happened to look up and out to where I’m sitting. I parted my legs some to give anyone who wanted a peak a good view of my bare pussy. For most of the time, though, I was just waving my knees back and forth to tolerate the urinary pressure that was mounting! I suppose that still gave any onlookers a good view, if not a fleeting one.

When I got to the bookstore to study after class at around 9:30 I was really bursting! It was the full package of desperation: crotch grabbing, legs crossing, I even had to stand up and walk around to regain my composure at times. And the armchair I sat in was right next to the bathrooms! Needless to say I didn’t get much studying done! I thought about peeing in the chair but I didn’t want to get my skirt soaking wet—I had to come home to my husband after all and I hadn’t packed anything to change into. I looked over to the empty Starbucks built into the store and decided now was the time. So I packed up my computer and headed that way. There was just one employee sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading a book. By the time I got to the register I was genuinely bursting! I ordered a coconut mocha macchiato. I was already holding my legs tightly together, honestly doing everything I could not to start pissing. While he was making my drink I asked him, “What book are you reading?” My voice must have been shaky from how desperate I was.

“I’m actually re-reading it,” he said. This guy was pretty young, but tall, probably in his late teens, and had gauges in his ears. He started telling me all about Dune and how it was one of the best science fiction books ever written.

I didn’t actually hear everything he was saying, though, because I had already started peeing.

I could have held it but psychologically I had given up. I glanced down at myself for an instant to see it streaming around my legs. It felt so warm… my legs had actually gotten a little chilly sitting in the bookstore for so long. I was careful not to get too excited and push too hard—I didn’t want to be too noisy. Of course, there was no way to silence the hissing it made as it poured out of my pussy. Mr. Barista seemed oblivious enough, what with the easy-listening music and the sound of a macchiato being made. While still telling me about the book, he handed me my drink and I took a sip. My socks and converse were getting soaked. Still peeing, I asked him if it was new. I couldn’t believe what I was doing! I was casually having a conversation with a stranger standing not 3 feet in front of me and peeing! This guy would probably be the one who’d clean up my puddle too! I don’t remember everything he told me but apparently the author was a super interesting guy and there’s like 5 other books in the series or something. I got a chance to look down and see the huge puddle I was standing in. It really was massive and along the edges of it my pee had started to flow along the cracks between the tiles. And I was still going! Relieving myself felt so good and I must have had a huge grin on my face. I stood there talking to him until he was done. He told me that book was a store copy and he’d give it to me to buy if I wanted.

“Maybe another time.” I said. “How much for the coffee?” He sat down to continue reading after I paid. Everything ended up being timed perfectly—my bladder was empty by the time I handed him my money. I took a sip of my coffee, said goodbye, and turned to leave. My shoes squished as I walked, but I didn’t dare look back to see if he had noticed. I left the store as fast as I could and made my way to the subway station to head home. My legs were glistening for a while but they were dry before I made it to my station. Nobody seemed to pay my wet legs any mind on the ride home. I’m sure the inside of my skirt must have gotten a little wet, but its thick corduroy and wouldn’t show much if it was—my shoe store experience was proof of that! All in all, it was a clean getaway and when I got home I managed to get my socks, converse, and towel in the wash without my husband noticing.

I have many future adventures to share-- I can’t wait to write them down! I’m curious to hear if anyone’s done something similar and of course I’d love to hear your feedback regardless!

Take care and stay tuned!