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trulyhblue · 1 year ago

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Carded

Alessia Russo x Aussie! Arsenal! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, fluff, coarse language, suggestive if you squint.

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Alessia were a bit like Katie in the sense of your aggression — or, rather 'passion' as you put it gently — on the field.

Arsenal had a rocky start to the season, with a loss against Liverpool to being dubbed as 'second-halfsenal', as your fans and rivals alike found the comedy in your troubles. There was no technical malice behind the name, the girls would joke about it ever so often during training, but that didn't stop the hidden linger of doubt among the team. As the season proceeded, with the crucial derbies of both Chelsea and Tottenham, you started to notice how it was having a negative effect on your girlfriend.

You grew up in Melbourne, Australia, playing for your local club before being scouted by recruits when you were in High School. You joined Melbourne Victory at Seventeen, playing alongside your future Matildas teammates, Kyra and Courtney. The three of you went to school together, before graduating and parting ways. While they moved to the Sweden league, you chose to head to Bayern Munich, where you spent four years strengthening your skills and gaining wider international attention.

The move was incredibly difficult. You did not understand a word of German walking into your first day, and still struggle to communicate in the foreign language. It definitely helped when Lioness player, Georgia Stanway transferred from Manchester City, and you ended up spending a lot of time with the English girl.

Due to this connection, you had met the other Lionesses by association, one girl sticking out to you specifically.

You had properly met Alessia in a friendly match against your two National teams. It hadn't taken long for you to realise your feelings for each other, but the timing never seemed right. She was in Manchester, playing for United, and you were in Germany, both consistent in your hard work for your respective teams.

You both were called up for the World Cup squad, you playing as a regular starter in the Midfield. From your early career, you always had a deep-rooted chemistry with Kyra and Courtney, so the opportunities the three of you created set the scene for your forwards up front. It was heartbreaking losing to England in the Semi-finals, especially in a home World Cup. You remember how Georgia sat with you after the game, waiting until she knew you were okay before she went off to celebrate.

You reciprocated the kindness by watching the final, feeling upset for the Lionesses when the score did not turn out their way. The two of you wondered what the next step was for you.

You had trouble mulling over the end of your contract, knowing Georgia had just renewed hers. After the World Cup, the recognition of the public had a great turnout, and your agent was met with many expressions of interest.

When Arsenal's name popped up on that list, you knew it was a no-brainer.

You and Alessia had both transferred in the same week, Kyra a few weeks later. The blonde and you moved in together, having both no place to live and hit it off from there. Now, a few months in, you've never been happier.

"Alright girls, we can do this." You heard Kim shout from beside you. Alessia was holding your waist, fiddling with the hem of your shorts as the team huddled around each other.

"Go out and set the scene. First tackles, first corners, everything, alright?"

You were versing Chelsea, the London Derby, in a sold-out Emirates, and you could feel the nerves radiating off Kyra from in front of you. Kim was the Captain today, her Scottish accent shouting as both the starting eleven and subs hugged one another. The lead-up to this game was beyond stressful, the pressure of starting in such a critical game building on Alessia and you over the past few days. The whole ordeal was daunting, having not ever played in a derby of this significance before.

"London is Red, girls, let's go!" Katie shouted, earning the huddle to disperse as everyone took their starting positions.

You could feel the sweat compile over the creases in your hands, wiping them twice over before jogging to your place on the wing. You found yourself looking out to the crowd, waving at the group of fans chanting your name. Erin Cuthbert was quick to join your side, standing close by as the cheers grew louder in anticipation.

Alessia was upfront, watching you with adoring eyes. You offered her a tight-lipped smile, pursing your lips and blushing when she sent a toothy grin and thumbs up your way. However; the moment was short-lived as the referee was quick to blow her whistle, commencing the game.

It was apparent that Chelsea was not expecting the energy Arsenal brought to the game. Errors and miscalculated passes were being carried out left and right, the chemistry between both sides slipping beneath the heightening apprehension.

“I'm here!” You called, speeding along the wing as Katie hesitated on the other side of the pitch. The Chelsea girls had left your front wing open, crowding in the midfield, evidently oblivious to the mistake they’d produced. You heard Emma Hayes yelling to cover your end, but Katie had already seen you, crossing the ball to your end. Cuthbert was on your tail, trying hard to stub your sprint in an attempt to stuff you up.

Victoria was to your right, onside yet swarmed with about three defenders. Beth was not far behind; Chelsea defenders were swarming the box in a desperate endeavour to clear Arsenal’s attempt.

You had no other choice but to nimble the ball through Fleming’s legs and towards Vic, who helplessly maneuvered the ball through the maze of defenders before passing to Mead. Cuthbert had put her hands behind her back, using her body to shield Beth’s fake attempt at the goal. You watched with your breath hitched as Beth powered the ball to the goal, observing the swift motion of the back of the neck.

Alessia was the first to wrap your arms around you, holding you up, carrying you over to where Katie was gripping Beth for dear life.

The rest of your team celebrated around you, screaming among the thousands of people in the crowds, smiles etched on all your faces.

“You’re doing so well.” Less yelled, hoping you’d hear her praise over the booming echo of cheers circling the Emirates. She knew you heard her from the blush that spread your cheeks, making your already flushed face all the more flustered. Your girlfriend wrapped her hands around you, swaying you from side to side one more time before you patted her back and let go.

Her eyes watched your figure jog back to your spot near Cuthbert, who pushed her way into your shoulder before the whistle for the restart blew. You tried your best to ignore her antics, using your legs to propel you towards the ball.

Turns out, Chelsea didn't like what you just did.

Erin followed you up and down the pitch, tugging your shirt everywhere she went. Whenever you tried to run forward and make a chance for your team, the Scottish woman would yank you back, locking her arm around your body, keeping you glued to the sideline.

Chelsea evened the score only a couple of minutes later. The sweat dripping down your forehead was enough to tell anyone how hard you were trying. Erin wasn't the only one giving you grief; Fleming was always a few metres away, darting through the midfield easily without you to worry about.

You were finally given the ball from a cross from Victoria, who mustn't have realised how cornered you were. You hadn't left the sideline in twenty minutes now. Fleming was now to your left, running up against you with Erin’s arm holding your waist. You struggled to keep the ball at your feet, the crowd watching in delight as the three of you battled it out alone.

You had managed to dart the ball between Jessie’s legs, causing an audible reaction from the fans, but it seemed that your face was too preoccupied with meeting the grass to soak up any type of honour you were receiving.

You felt the ground against your cheek, your body falling from stubs to the foot. You groaned at the instant pain up your leg, causing you to hold your shoe and roll onto your back. The adrenaline from the game made the pang bearable, but you knew the tackle was far from clean way before the whistle had blown.

“Oh, get up. What a fucking baby.” You heard Erin say, her Scottish accent full of malice.

“I didn't know Chelsea hired my Nephew.” An Irish accent quipped nearby. “Cause all he does is throw a tantrum when he doesn't get what he wants.”

“It was clean.”

“Oh, fuck off, you slimy t—”

You didn't get to hear the rest of their dispute, too busy nursing your foot with your hands. Steph had broken the two up, ordering Katie to run back to the other side. Sam Kerr was also around, kneeling beside you amidst the strain.

“You ‘right, mate?” Your Aussie Teammate helped you up, holding out her hands and rubbing your back as you regained balance. The Skipper had been your mentor since you joined the Tillies. The older woman was an idol of yours, and you looked up to her despite the few years between you.

However, you couldn't respond to Sam in time, for she was pushed away harshly by a certain blonde, her blue eyes reeling with anger at the sight of the tackle you endured.

“Stay away from her, Kerr.” She snarled, using her arm to support your weight onto one foot. You put your hand on her chest, shooting a silent apology to Sam, who shrugged nonchalantly before sauntering off.

“Y/N, are you alright?” The referee asked the yellow card still in her hand. You knew you had the power to play it over the top, but this game was everything to you. You didn't want to be subbed off any time soon.

But your girlfriend wasn't having any of it.

“She,” Less pointed to Erin, who was standing by a regretful Fleming. “Needs to be sent off for that. She's been harassing Y/N all game. It was obviously on purpose. Did you see it? It was stubs to the—”

“Lessi, stop, it's alright. I'm fine.” You swapped glances from your girlfriend to the Ref, who was still looking at you for reassurance in regard to your physical wellness. “I’m fine.” You repeated, and the whistle was quickly blown for a free kick, and a yellow toward Cuthbert.

Alessia looked down at you cautiously, eyeing your leg and the slight weariness in your step. “Are you sure?” She asked.

When you nodded, she jogged over to her position once more, sighing at your stubbornness as you prepared for your kick.

Ilestedt’s goal only a few minutes later sent all of the girls into a frenzy. You sprinted over to the Swedish player, jumping onto her back and kissing her head, laughing as you felt the rest of your team surround you in hugs and celebrations. The screams and cheers in the stands were phenomenal. No one expected the Reds to be beating the Blues so early into the game.

Erin was hot on your tail when Caitlin punted the ball towards you. You made the sprint down the line, your Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin both yelling out for a pass. You were about to boot it behind you, where Steph was waiting for the assist when you felt your legs give out for the second time that game. The grass met your face, the power of the fall leaving you in shambles, the ball long forgotten by the time your hand shot up to the blood running down your nose.

Steph was by your side, forgetting all about the game still in play. Alessia had gained possession of the ball, holding it in her hands by the time you had sat up, the whistling blowing when the Ref noticed the amount of red spilling down your shirt.

“Move your hand.” Steph uttered, holding your face and using her own shirt to hold your nose. “It’s not broken.” You did as you were told, your nose warm at the contact of the ground, only slightly sore. She looked up to Kim, who you knew was fuming underneath her worried gaze.

“I don't want to be subbed off.” You said, and you saw Kim nod, agreeing before storming up to the Referee, who was talking sternly to Erin.

Beside her was Alessia, with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed into a furious knot, you watching in horror as a yellow card was shown her way. Katie had made it just in time to take her away, gripping the girl’s shoulders and guiding her towards you.

The medics had come on to see to your nose whilst handing you another shirt to change into. They assessed the blood, which was slowly halting, and declared that you had just knocked it. You told them you didn't want to go off, and with a nod from Katie and approval from the Referee, you stood off the field patiently before you were allowed back on.

During those painstaking moments, you pondered on what Alessia had said that made her get the yellow. You knew Erin was already on thin ice, and in yesterday’s training, Jonas had said that if given the chance, Alessia was to take the penalties. You knew the English girl. She was never much of a violent person on the field, choosing to stay calm and collected rather than angsty and irate when something didn't go her way.

But in games like this, where everything was on the line, it was hard to deny the apparent tension behind her actions. When it came to you, she’d sacrifice everything. For you, she’d take a million yellows if it meant sticking up for you.

You had sprinted up near Fleming when the girls ran towards your goal. The stadium stood in anticipation, the adrenaline of Arsenal’s streak pumping through their cheers. Alessia found the ball under her feet, her shot hitting the back of the net with a swish. You couldn't hear anyone but yourself, the pain and exhaustion from the half leaving your body the very moment you wrapped your legs around Less’s waist.

The girl held you up with her hands, holding under your thighs, squishing the skin just under your arse before putting you down. You laughed at her cheeky grin, relishing the private moment between the two of you before the rest of the girls stampede their way around you.

“LESSI RUSSO!” Beth screamed, hugging the two of you as she jumped in excitement. Arsenal were beating Chelsea — the top of the ladder — three-one going into the second half. If they scored once more, it’d be the Blue’s worst defeat in five years.

The thought was the utmost motivation.

You would be lying if you said you weren't surprised to find yourself walking back on in the second half. Your nose had stopped bleeding during half-time, but the ache was still attending when you made your way to the wing.

Just before you went out, you felt familiar hands grip your waist, pushing you against the wall of your cubby. You saw Alessia’s glare eye your kit and the way she licked her lips at the sight of your flushed countenance. Her starved eyes roamed your face. Your lips met hers in a hungry kiss, knowing the rest of the girls were in their own world as they prepared for what was to come.

“You’re playing really good.” You said, holding her biceps, your finger drawing circles against her skin.

Alessia hummed, meeting your lips again, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away. “So are you, baby. ‘Making me so proud, you are.”

The compliment went straight through you. Her eyes continued to linger on you as you walked back out onto the pitch. You swallowed any pre-existing desire you had for the girl as Jessie Fleming walked by your side, offering you a curt, determined smile, then going stone-faced.

The rivalry in the second half displayed by both sides was nothing in comparison to the anger radiating in the last forty-five minutes of the London Derby.

Katie and Caitlin both got cards in two minutes of each other. Lauren James, Chelsea forward, fifteen minutes later. Illegal tackles were thrown left and right, pushing, shoving, ploughing everywhere you looked.

Emma Hayes must've thought Erin would've been sent off if been marking you for another second. Jessie was a much cleaner opponent, but as the time ticked over, the end of the match and the taste of victory near, the Canadian found haste in her decisions, making a rather late decision in tackling you near the sideline.

“Fuck, sorry.” She spoke, and while remorseful, she seemed too engulfed in the loss to speak much truth. She took her yellow graciously but made no attempt to reconcile with you. She walked over to Sam, who gave her a scornful glare, making the younger girl cower. You took your time getting up off the grass, stretching out the tension in your hamstrings before straightening back onto your feet.

On her way over to you, Alessia shot the dirtiest glare she could muster towards Fleming, not realising that many fans would catch the interaction on their phones. She made her way over to you, kissing the top of your forehead, making no endeavour to hide her public affection towards you.

Your relationship with Alessia was extremely private. You didn't want the public to know every detail of each other, and how you lived day to day in each other’s company, but that didn't mean you didn't like to tease your relationship over social media every once and a while. The Arsenal girls were all for a photo dump on Instagram, and many of the fans had caught onto your close proximity in some of the photos.

One of them in particular caused the rumours of your relationship to form. It was in Katie’s dump, a couple of weeks after your move to Arsenal. A group of girls were all sitting together in a booth, somewhere in a random London pub, but there wasn't enough room, leaving you to sit on Alessia’s lap when the photo was taken. From there, everyone assumed the two of you were dating, and while neither of you confirmed anything, it wasn't a secret you were trying hard to keep.

The game proceeded and not long after, an easy penalty was given to your side after a Chelsea defensive miscommunication. It was Alessia who took it, and the crowd made deafening sounds of joy as the Reds crowded around each other in celebration.

You were beating Chelsea 4-1.

The feeling was euphoric. Nothing could beat the sour, everlasting annoyance planted on Cuthbert’s face. Nothing could take you away from the overwhelming happiness that overtook your body when the full-time whistle blew, leaving Arsenal in glee at the massive takedown on the reigning top-of-the-ladder.

Alessia was up against you the moment you met each other’s glance. She pulled you off the ground, spinning you around in circles, making you squirm and squeal as she tickled your sides.

“You did so well, baby.” She sounded, her breath tickling your ear. You shivered, trying hard to hold in your yearning. Alessia knew how to rile you up, hands coming up to glue to your shoulders, massaging the knots that had formed from the tiresome run you just had. You groaned at the relief. Alessia smirked at the whines coming from your mouth.

“All for me, baby?”

You hid your face in her chest at that, face red at her undistinguished connotations. She laughed, holding your chin, placing a quick peck on the side of your lips, pulling you back into her afterwards.

You waited until she was soaking up the silence, a small smile decorating your sweaty face.

“Did it all for you, Lessi.”

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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

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Finally Home

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!military doctor!reader (r is Lucy's adopted sister)

Summary: You enlist your boyfriend Tim to help you surprise your (adoptive) sister Lucy after being deployed for several months.

Warnings: brief angst and depictions of loneliness/depression, then lots of fluff!

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Being adopted into the Chen family continues to be the best thing that ever happened to you. It didn’t help your shyness much, but the love and sense of belonging you’ve found outweigh all the bad you’ve experienced. When you joined the military, becoming a military doctor, you overcame your shyness enough to be a great doctor. However, when you stop being a doctor, you’re back to the shy sister Lucy knows and loves.

The last time you were stateside, you met Tim Bradford and fell for him quickly. During the six months you were home, Tim learned nearly everything there is to know about you, and he loves all of you.

Now, in your seventh month stationed in Europe, you look forward to your weekly call home. You call one of two numbers: Tim or Lucy. They’re always together when it’s time to answer, so you know you’ll get a chance to talk to both of them and grow shy from across an ocean. Your dog is sitting beside you as the call begins.

“Hey, sis!” Lucy greets happily when the line connects.

The picture is blurry today, but you smile when you see your sister. She’s in her uniform, in an empty office at the police station. Being seven hours ahead means you usually catch her or Tim while they’re at work.

“Hi,” you answer. “Is Tim there?”

“He’s actually on patrol,” she answers. “I’m sorry; there’s a huge problem here right now so they’ve got a ton of people out there.”

“That’s okay. How are you?”

Lucy looks up when a door opens and turns the computer away.

“I’m pretty good. I want to hear about you, though, because not much has changed here.”

“Move,” Tim demands.

You can only see his hand as he reaches for the computer, and you duck away from the camera as they compete for your attention.

“Chen,” Tim says.

“Which one?” you ask.

“The one whose badge I can take. Just let me say hello.”

“Why don’t you just sit together?” you suggest. “Not to say I don’t enjoy this.”

Tim huffs as he pulls a chair beside Lucy, forcefully turning the computer so you can see both of them. He smiles, and you forget what you were going to say.

“Any word on when you’ll be home next?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing. I’m hoping to hear something soon though. There isn’t much happening, so they’ll probably need to move me soon anyway.”

“Then they should let you call more often,” Tim comments.

“I agree. I miss you.”

Tim elbows Lucy gently.

“She meant both of us,” Lucy argues. “Didn’t you?”

You nod and look up suddenly.

“I have to go,” you explain. “I’m so sorry. I love both of you and I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.”

“I love you,” Tim replies.

“Love you, sis. Be safe,” Lucy adds just before the call ends. “I miss her, Tim.”

“I know.”

Lucy continues staring at the blank screen, and Tim asks her about something he noticed days ago.

“What’s going on?”

“I just- I’m sad all the time. I don’t know if it’s just because she’s gone because I’ve been dealing with her deployments for years, but the only thing I want, have wanted for weeks, is to see her. It’s hard doing everything without her when she’s the only person I want to share things with.”

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Bradford, Chen, we need you back out there when you’re done. This crime spree is getting worse each time we try to make progress,” Wade says.

“Lets go, we’ll ride together,” Tim offers.

“Like the good old days!”

“I hope not exactly like those.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Superiors are giving you a choice,” your MC commander begins. “Transfer to Germany or temporary leave before being stationed in Fort Bliss, Texas.”

“What would I be doing in Texas, sir?” you ask.

“Continued training and teaching, mostly. And the temporary leave is only two months, but after all this time in Europe I assume you’d return to sunny Los Angeles.”

“I’d like to take the Fort Bragg position, sir.”

“Okay, I’ll let the Surgeon General’s office know. I’m sorry to have interrupted your call; video broadcast has ended, but if you’d like to make a phone call, share the good news, go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk into a private office, dialing Tim’s number and hoping he’s alone. Lucy has been down the last two times you’ve talked. She hides it well, but you’re her sister and can see through her.

“Bradford,” Tim answers.

“Chen,” you reply. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah, I am. What’s going on?”

“Is my sister okay? She’s seemed really sad.”

Tim sighs before he answers, “She misses you. A lot.”

“Then I need your help with something. I’m coming home.”

“When?” Tim asks. “I mean, I’ll help you with anything, but I’m so happy to get to see you again.”

You press your lips together, feeling heat rising in your cheeks.

“I should be there in a week or so, but I’ll let you know a date when I have one.”

“Okay. And the help?”

“I want to surprise Lucy. Any ideas?”

“Well, there is a restaurant she can’t stop talking about.”

“Tim? I’m going to be home for two months.”

“I get you for two months?”

“I can’t wait,” you answer sarcastically.

“Give me a date and time and I’ll get Lucy there.”

“Will she get suspicious?”

“Who do you think I am? She won’t have a clue.”

✯✯✯✯✯

A week later, Lucy has been checking her phone nonstop. She hasn’t heard from you since you abruptly ended the last call, and her concern and sadness about missing you are beginning to overflow. All of her fellow cops have noticed, so when you call and ask a few of them to meet at Lucy’s favorite restaurant to cheer her up, they happily agree.

“Get ready,” Tim demands at the end of the shift. “We’re going to dinner.”

“Why?” Lucy asks.

“Because we’re both worried and need a distraction. She’s fine, but you’re going to make yourself sick worrying like this, Lucy.”

“Okay. Give me ten minutes. Where are we going?”

“Your favorite.”

Lucy smirks as she walks to the locker room. Tim checks his phone but hasn’t received any message saying you landed.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Easy, boy,” you whisper, patting your dog over the Military K-9 vest as the plane lands.

The other passengers are kind enough to let you get your duffel bag and exit the plane first, rushing to the car rental counter and leaving for the restaurant. You’re running late, and don’t even think about letting Tim know you’re back in Los Angeles. As you park, seeing the ‘Service Animals Welcome’ sign on the door, you realize you forgot to tell Tim your dog is with you.

“Let’s go introduce you to my family.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you call Tim.

“Hey,” he answers. “I don’t have long before your sister shoves me over a balcony to talk to you.”

“Patio?” you ask, smiling.

“Yep.”

“I’ll be over in a minute.”

“Is that my sister?” Lucy asks, attempting to pull Tim’s arm away from his ear to take the phone.

“Tim, I have to go. I love you. Tell Lucy I said hi,” you say before ending the call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Lucy sits down, dejected. She tries to enjoy the appetizers and her friends sitting around her, but she wishes you were at the party. The door opens, and Lucy glances over before picking up her head and giving her full attention to the person walking through the door. Her jaw drops as she watches you walk toward her, a dog at your side. Lucy’s shock turns to a smile as she jumps from her seat to hug you. As you return her hug, smiling as you whisper how happy you are to see her, Tim’s hand covers yours as he takes the leash from you.

“Hey, bud,” he says to the dog. “Lucy, could I get a turn?”

“No,” she says against your shoulder.

“Hi, Tim,” you greet, turning your face away when he smiles.

“Hiding from my smile,” he muses. “Can you survive two months with me?”

“Two months?!” Lucy repeats, pulling back.

“I like your dress,” you murmur, seeing her for the first time in too long. “And, yes, I have two months of leave before I move to Fort Bliss.”

“Where is that?”

“Texas.”

“You’re staying stateside?” Tim interjects, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrug, turning in his arms to hug him.

“Welcome home,” he says, kissing your jaw as his arms tighten around you.

“Thanks for helping me with the surprise.”

“I’ll always be here with you.”

“So will I!” Lucy adds.

“Are you going to fight to hug me now?” you ask.

“Yes!” everyone at the table answers.

“And you brought a dog!” Lucy cheers, lowering her hand to pet your dog.

“I love you,” Tim says, pulling a chair out so you can sit between him and Lucy.

“I love you,” you reply softly. “I have one more thing I didn’t tell you, though.”

“What?” Lucy and Tim ask together.

“The position I took is a teaching job, so I’ll have more time to visit.”

They hug you simultaneously, no longer fighting over who gets to go first. You drop your chin towards Tim’s arm and smile. When your dog puts his paws in your lap and joins the hug, you know you are finally home. Sitting at a table with the two people you love most in the world, you know the next two months will be amazing, even if you're shy the entire time.

#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #lucy chen #requests #fem!reader

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dreamwatch · 5 months ago

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Mine is Yours

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

It’s been a year since Eddie’s been home.

He pulls up outside the trailer in Forest Hills. Wayne’s truck is more beat to shit than he remembers, but the thing was on its last legs when he left for Indy in ‘87. Theres gaffer tape holding up the rusting rear bumper, and the tires are near bald.

He let’s himself inside, careful not to wake Wayne; the one blessing that came from all the shit of 1986 was that the government gave them a double wide and the old man finally got a bedroom again. That was the one thing Eddie could never quite shake the shame of, especially when he was a high school senior seemingly unable to graduate. He’s hoping today’s visit will make up for it a little.

He takes his sneakers off, new ones he only bought a few weeks ago, lines them up neatly next to Wayne’s work boots, then heads into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. He had an early start, and what with the flight from LA (a flight!) and the drive from Indy, he’s aching for sleep.

He takes his coffee over to the couch, the red pleather one they picked up for a steal (because it was ugly as shit, Robin had said), puts his feet up and closes his eyes. Just for a minute.

“—die. Eddie. Hey, rise and shine.”

He wakes with a gasp, wisps of a memory, of leathery skin and tails and razor teeth.

“Wayne?”

“There he is.” Wayne straightens up, back cracking as he does. “You never said you were coming, or am I going senile?”

“Both,” Eddie says around a yawn.

Wayne sticks his hand in Eddie’s curls, ruffling them gently. “If you want breakfast and a place to stay, be nice.”

Eddie rolls off the couch, giving Wayne a hug before following him into the kitchen, perching himself on a stool to watch as Wayne sets about making them breakfast at five in the afternoon.

“Is everything okay? Not that I’m not happy to see you, just a long way to drive for a catch up.”

Eddie grins. “Actually, I flew.”

“Flew?” He whistles. “My boy, the rockstar.”

They sit at the table together, bacon, eggs and toast laid out in front of them, Wayne catching him up on the comings and goings of the plant and Forest Hills; old Rose Hannigan still being a nosey bitch as usual, and Dougie has a new dog and god the damn thing won’t stop barking during the day. It’s nice. It’s so different from LA, so small in the best way, and even though his relationship with home, with Hawkins, is so complex, cut through with slithers of painful memories, he misses it. He does. It doesn’t make all that much sense.

Or is it just Wayne he misses? The man who loved him and protected him when his father couldn’t (wouldn’t). The man who gave him everything and more, who was working himself to an early grave to look after a boy that wasn’t his own.

Eddie grabs his bag from the floor and slides the white envelope out, still neat and crisp. He pushes it across the table.

“What’s this?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Open it and find out.”

He gets a raised eyebrow back for his trouble, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Wayne. Doesn’t want to miss this.

Wayne grumbles about envelopes being too sticky these days and then he pulls out the slip of paper tucked inside and comes to a stop.

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s a check, Uncle Wayne.”

He shoots Eddie a scowl. “I can see it’s a check. Where�� I don’t understand.”

Eddie fold his arms on the table in front of him. “The album is selling. It’s doing good, actually. We’re big in Germany, the UK, I think we’re doing pretty good in Japan too. You know I wrote most of those songs, right?”

Wayne gives him a little nod.

“Well I got a nice royalty check for that. Just came through a few weeks ago.” He gestures at the paper in Wayne’s hands. “And this is for you.”

“Eddie this is… Jesus Christ. Ten thousand dollars? You can’t be serious?”

And Eddie is full on smiling now, grinning ear to ear. “I got thirty thousand.” He laughs. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Eddie, I can’t take this.”

“You can and you’re gonna.” He’s deadly serious now. “These come quarterly, this one’s the second. They’re getting bigger. Sales are growing, so, there’s more coming. And even if there wasn’t, doesn’t matter. I want you to have this—“

“No—“

“Wayne—“

“No!“

“Jesus Christ, you stubborn old fart. I have money now, which means we have money now. I’m not in LA busting my ass for me, I’m doing it for us! And this is the start. That truck should have been put out to pasture before I started high school. You’ve never had a vacation. I’ve never seen you spend a dollar on yourself.”

“Never needed anything.”

“How about wanting? You get to want, Wayne. You deserve to want. And how about not having to worry where the money’s coming from when the roof leaks, or the boiler breaks? I don’t want you to have to worry anymore.”

Wayne shakes his head, but the fight is leaving him. “Ed…” he says, a little choked. He reaches his hand across the table and Eddie grabs it.

“I love you, old man. I want you to have this. Please?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that? Even before this,” he waves the check in the air. “I’ve always been proud of you.”

“I know. So, you going to take it? Get a new fucking truck?”

Eddie can see the pride on his uncle’s face, but he doesn’t need to; he’s always known. Always felt it.

Wayne squeezes Eddie’s hand, still looking a little shell shocked but smiling. Happy.

“Reckon I might.”

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin fic #eddie munson #wayne munson #good uncle wayne #good nephew Eddie #stranger things #the munsons #Fluff

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sissylittlefeather · 7 months ago

Text

Your Love's Been A Long Time Coming: Chapter 5

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long. I've been dealing with a lot of writers block and I'm honestly not even sure this is any good. I have so much for Elvis and Viv that I want to get to. I hope people continue to read it. Or I'll just write it for me. But if you do read it, please please please leave a comment. I live for comments.

Need to catch up? Here is my masterlist.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, cussing, oral sex (m receiving), swallowing, teensy bit of angst

Word count: ~2.4k

Oh, Elvis, she thinks. Why won't you come and rescue me from myself?

******

In December of 1962, Elvis brings Priscilla over from Germany in an attempt to stop thinking about Vivian. He hosts a New Year's Eve party and invites everyone, including her. He's hoping that seeing Viv and Priscilla in the same room will help him realize that Viv is not what he's looking for. He's been thinking about it a lot and honestly, she's too independent anyway. She probably wouldn't make a good wife. Priscilla, on the other hand, is young enough to still be molded and she seems ready to do whatever he asks. Isn't that what a wife should be? He repeats it like a mantra: not Vivian. Not Vivian. Not Vivian.

At the party, Priscilla and Viv reconnect briefly. He forgot they had known each other in Germany. Elvis nods and smiles awkwardly and then she turns to move around the party, leaving him with Cilla by his side. For the most part, he's successful in staying focused on Cilla. He catches glimpses of Viv briefly as she walks through the crowd, always with a drink in her hand.

Finally, he finds himself next to her at the table with the food in the dining room with no one else around.

"You're really serious about this thing with Priscilla?" Viv asks with her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. Why?"

"She's a teenager."

"She makes sense to me, Viv." Vivian shrugs and concedes.

"I can't argue with that. She's not very complicated, so I believe that she makes sense to you." Elvis turns to look at her suddenly. Is she jealous?

"That's not fair, Viv."

"Is it not? I'm sorry. I just think you need someone more like..." She stops short of what she was going to say. He has an idea of how that sentence would've ended, though. "It doesn't matter. You like simplicity."

Something between rage and frustration bubbles up inside him.

"Which one of my friends are you fucking tonight, Viv?" He immediately regrets saying it as her mouth pops open and her eyes get glassy. "I'm sorry-"

"No, that's fair. Maybe Red." She turns and walks away from him quickly.

"Viv!" He calls after her but she doesn't turn around. "Goddamnit."

"You okay?" Elvis hears Cilla and works to recover his facade, turning to face her.

"Oh yeah, it's nothing, baby." She smiles and he is filled with the desire to take the stairs two at a time and go to bed. Alone.

******

Vivian sits in the bathroom trying to compose herself after her conversation with Elvis. She's a joke to him. And this girl, this Priscilla, she's what he wants. She'll never be that. She wasn't that sweet and demure even when she was 17.

Someone knocks on the bathroom door and she wipes her tears, assessing her makeup in the mirror, and opens it. It's Red. But despite what she said earlier, she pushes past him and goes straight to the front door. She has no desire to see Elvis and Priscilla kiss at midnight.

******

Elvis and Vivian avoid each other as much as possible before the spring of '63 when they both pick up the film Fun in Acapulco. Viv still hasn't managed to land another speaking part, but her work as an extra keeps her paid enough to eat. And when it doesn't, Elvis makes sure she's taken care of.

Filming the same movie means being on set together and after their last encounter, it's pretty awkward. Still, when Elvis finds himself in a particular predicament, she's the only one he can find to help.

His least favorite part of this movie is the pair of tiny blue shorts they have him wearing in several scenes. They're a lot like the ones from Blue Hawaii, but for some reason these just won't come off, especially when they're wet.

That's how Elvis finds himself in this situation. He has to go the bathroom. Badly. But they're in the middle of filming. Once the director finally calls cut, he's absolutely ready to burst. He makes his way to his trailer, frantically trying to figure out how to get his shorts off. Thats when he sees Vivian.

"Viv!" She stops dead in her tracks, recognizing his voice. She turns to him.

"What, Elvis?"

"I need your help." His desperation is palpable.

"With what?"

"Just come with me, please." He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his trailer. Once inside, he shuts the door and turns to her. "I have to pee so bad I might die."

"Okay? What does that have to-"

"I can't get these fucking shorts off, Viv."

"Oh, shit."

"I'm going to piss myself."

"Well, they're already wet." He looks at her with panic on his face.

"Are you gonna help me or not?!" She tries to focus and make sure she doesn't laugh.

"Yes, come here." She tries to tug on the shorts, but they don't budge.

"What if I kinda lift them off of me before you pull."

"Yeah, let's try that." Vivian gets on her knees in front of him to pull when he says to. He looks down at her on her knees in front of him and looks at the ceiling. He whispers to himself.

"Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard."

"What's that?" Viv asks.

"Oh! Nothing." He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on what's happening.

"Okay, I'm gonna count to three. You lift them and I'll pull down. 1... 2... 3!" She gives his shorts a firm tug and they come down to his thighs. What neither of them realized about their plan is that pulling the shorts down means his dick is going to be right in her face.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry." She tries to look away, but he whimpers, trying really hard not to pee on her. Finally, she gets the shorts down his legs and off and he runs into the bathroom. She sits in the living area with his shorts in her hand, laughing quietly.

He opens the door a little and hollers to her.

"Toss me the shorts. I think I can get them back on." But he can't. After about 12 minutes of struggling, he comes out with them stuck on his thighs, his hands covering himself. "Can you...?"

"Yes, I will. Come here." He waddles over to her with his hand still covering himself. He goes back to praying his body won't respond to the image of Vivian on her knees in front of him. He's doing okay, until she gets the shorts up higher and she puts her hand on him gently to try to stuff him into the shorts. He whimpers at her touch and becomes noticeably hard.

"God, I'm sorry..."

"It's okay; it happens, Elvis." She keeps trying to pull the shorts up despite his massive rock-hard erection.

Just then, there's a sharp knock on the door.

"Elvis, we need you back on set. Now." It's the director.

"Uh, just a second?"

"We don't have any more seconds. Wrap up what you're doing and come out. Now." They can tell by the director's tone that he assumes Elvis must be in there having sex with someone. Elvis is annoyed. That would be a much better excuse than what's actually happening.

He looks at Vivian frantically, his dick still standing at full attention with her on her knees trying to tuck it into the shorts. She whispers.

"It's not gonna fit like this. Can you... fix it?"

"Make it go away, you mean? I don't really have time to use my hand. And I can't think it away. That never works for me." It does work sometimes, but he knows it won't with the image of Viv on her knees.

"That settles it, then."

"Settles wh- OH MY GOD VIVIAN." Elvis falls backwards and braces himself as Vivian wraps her mouth around his cock and starts moving. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

He moans softly as she pulls off of him to explain.

"You need this gone. This'll work and it'll be faster than your hand. You want me to stop?" She looks up at him with his dick in her hand.

"No..."

"This is purely functional." She pulls him deep into her throat and sucks on him. His eyes roll back with the sensation of her warm little mouth on him. He's dreamed of this for so long, but the reality is better than he ever could've imagined. Her mouth moves skillfully up and down, complemented by her hand moving his foreskin back and forth. She licks a circle around the head and then deep throats him again. He grunts as his orgasm begins to build and he knows he won't last much longer.

The director pounds on the door again and hollers something, but Elvis is incapable of listening. Viv is working him with her mouth and hand, pulling out all her tricks to get him off as quickly as possible.

"Oh, god, Viv... that's so good..." He moans as she gets him closer and closer to the edge. He's gripping the counter behind him so tightly that his knuckles are white. She pulls back off of him and looks up at him with her big blue eyes, licking the precum off the tip of him.

"Let go, baby. You have to cum. Now." Something about her telling him what to do pushes him the last little bit and he tumbles into a mind-blowing orgasm, shooting his release down her throat. She swallows it easily, sucking until he relaxes, and then stops.

"Holy fuck, Viv..."

"Ah ha!" She cheers as she's finally able to get his shorts up and tuck his package into the front. Standing up, he looks into her eyes and wants to kiss her so badly. Still, despite what just happened, he's not sure he can.

"We're gonna talk about this later."

"Okay."

Just as the director is about to knock again, Elvis opens the door and walks out.

"What? I had to go to the bathroom."

******

Viv waits about ten minutes and then makes her way back to where she's supposed to be filming, in shock over what just happened. And now he wants to talk about it? What is there to say?

******

Elvis doesn't see Vivian again until the summer after the shorts incident. He can't decide if she's purposefully avoiding him or just busy, but she stays away. Part of him wonders if she's avoiding the conversation they were supposed to have after the blowjob. It never happened.

In July, Elvis is in Memphis just before he leaves for California to meet his costars and start filming his next movie. He comes across Vivian on Beale street.

"Viv!" When she sees him, she looks for an escape and doesn't see one, so she waits for him to catch up to where she is. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I've just been really busy."

"Look, I really need to talk to you. I'm leaving for California at 3. Will you come with me to Graceland? Please?" She looks around again for an exit and then looks back at him.

"Yeah."

"Good!" He grabs her hand and practically drags her to his car. They make small talk about what they've both been doing for the whole drive. Once they get to Graceland, Elvis settles them into the tv room.

"Are we ever going to talk about the head you gave me?" Viv shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable.

"What is there to say, Elvis? I sucked your dick to get it back in your shorts. That's it."

"That's it?!" He thinks back to the incredible orgasm he had at her doing. He wouldn't mind it happening again.

"Yeah? That's it." All of a sudden, something else bubbles up inside him and he stands up.

"VIVIAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Wrong with me?!"

"Do I really mean so little to you that you can suck my cock and have absolutely no feelings about it?!"

"It was just to-"

"Get my shorts on. I know. Why am I just a sex object to you? Something to play with when you've been drinking?"

"What?" He's not talking about the blowjob anymore.

"Why do I mean nothing to you?"

"Elvis... I-"

"Why can't you see how much I-"

"Will you let me finish?!" He sits back down on the couch seething. "You don't mean nothing to me. You mean too much to me."

"Too much? What does that mean?" Vivian rolls her eyes and he's somewhere between wanting to slap her and wanting to kiss her.

"Elvis. Do you remember what I told you when you got in the fight with Joe?"

"Which part?"

"The part about how if I let myself, I could fall in love with you?" His heart pounds wildly in his chest.

"Yeah?"

"I've wanted you since the moment I met you. And not just for sex. Sex is like... I don't even know what it means for me but it's not love and you... I..." His stomach turns over and he's overcome with a need to take her in his arms and show her what love can be. Is she finally admitting what he's felt for all these years?

"Viv." He whispers it and cups her cheek in his hand. She leans into his touch. Just then, there's a knock on the door. Elvis curses loudly and then gets up to answer it. It's the Colonel.

"My boy, we need to head to the airport. You need to be in California soon." Elvis nods and then turns to Vivian, who has followed him up to the foyer. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"We will finish this when I get back, okay?"

She nods.

But he doesn't come back. Not this version of him anyway. The costar he goes to California to meet is a woman named Ann Margaret. And when he meets her, Vivian and all her complications become a distant memory.

But Priscilla? Priscilla won't go down so easily. She moved to the United States to marry him and she won't be deterred by the small matter of him being in love with another woman.

Elvis is trapped between three women and Vivian? She's the quietest of the three with what she assumes is the smallest claim on his heart.

She fades into the background easily, watching the feud that happens between Ann Margaret and Priscilla, her love for him never diminishing, but they never finish the conversation that they started.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x oc #Elvis x Vivian #Elvis Presley x Vivian choquette #your loves been a long time coming #ylbaltc

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i-magines · 2 years ago

Text

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 4

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.

a/n: i’m really happy with all the comments i got on the past chapters!!! just don’t know how to answer them with this account and not my personal one :/ should they fuck already or nah? let me know

word count: 1,851

After your last encounter, Pedro was being extremely weird around you. If you could even say that, since it was very clear that he was also avoiding you. This has been going on for about 2 weeks now and it made you feel super insecure. You didn’t get why he was behaving like this. Did he regret the little moment you had in the tub? Did you do something that made him change his mind? You felt confused and, being honest, a little abandoned.

In the mornings, you went straight to the set and, at the end of it, you ran back to your cabin. You felt very lonely without his company and even though you had a crush on him, your friendship was what you’ve been missing the most. The stories, the laughs, the looks between scenes. When you had to interact because of work, he avoided your eyes and was very quiet around you. For the past couple of weeks, you didn’t do much other than hang out with Flo on the only day off you had — and even that was odd, because Pedro left a few minutes after you got to Flo’s cabin. All of this was consuming you and making you feel terrible.

You were off duty when the producer called you. They were working on positioning the lights and rehearsing, but the extra actress who was supposed to be in the scene didn’t show up. Being a budget movie being shot in the middle of nowhere in Germany, the producers had to figure it out with what they had in hand. Trying to keep the situation only between the producing and directing teams, as the scene called for a more intimate approach, they asked you to be her stunt. You knew what scene it was and you got chills thinking about it, as you walked towards the cabin they were in.

Waiting for you were the director, the cinematographer, Flo and Pedro. The only form of illumination in the room were candles strategically positioned for the shooting. The director approached you. Not much time for the ceremony, Flo put your hair down and applied some makeup on your face.

“I’m gonna need you to strip down, girl friend”, she let you know, a bit embarrassed.

You already knew about that, so you had already prepared your mind to do it. You took your clothes off, keeping on only some nude panties. Flo added some makeup on your body as well, and left the room.

“Okay, let’s roll then.”

You and Pedro laid down on the bed together. He was still wearing his clothes, only some shirt buttons opened. He was on top of you, but didn’t dare to look at your eyes. It felt like forever for them to make sure about lights and angles.

“As you know, this scene isn’t about love”, the director started. “It’s about fucking. That’s all I have to say. Action!”

You both didn’t move.

“I said, action!” He shouted.

Your body felt tense underneath his and it all felt kind of mechanical, as he put his hands on your face and started to come closer to you. Well, this is how acting is supposed to be, you thought, as you put your hands on his hair, trying to make sure you were following the director's briefing. He suddenly stopped.

“Sorry, Dave”, he said, completely ignoring you under him. “I don’t think I’m feeling it with her, she is too young, and I feel like this whole scene doesn’t add up to the movie itself.”

“Excuse me?” The director looked confused and slightly offended.

“I’m not doing it”, Pedro simply said. Dave looked infuriated. “I know I have a veto power on the contract and I’m using it.”

“That’s why I don’t work with Hollywood stars like yourself”, he said after breathing in and out very slowly. “I just wanna point out what incredible ironic is your problem with her age, giving that I’ve lost track of how many times it got to me that you two have been suspiciously close with each other.”

You saw in Pedro’s eyes the same anger as the day you went clubbing. The producer came back into the room, after hearing the voices a little louder going on inside.

“I think it’s better if we all calm down”, she said. “Look, this scene has been controversial since day one, even the studio heads thought so. Let’s leave on hold now and we can have a meeting later this week—”

“No, Donna”, Dave interrupted her. “I’m doing it with or without him.”

“Just to make myself clear, neither is she doing anything”, Pedro said pointing towards you with his head. “I’m vetoing her as well. Go get dressed, Y/N. Now.”

You did as he told.

“This situation is ridiculous at this point”, Donna looked nervous and tired. The two of them had been fighting for days over every single thing on the set. “I will take this matter to the studio, no shooting tomorrow. Everybody out of my sight."

You left the room first and you had to practically run, because it was pouring rain. After all that, you weren’t even sure you still had a job anymore and you just felt so fragile. You heard steps behind you, but you didn’t stop. Pedro called your name. He got to you once you had to stop to unlock your cabin door.

“Can we talk, baby girl?” His words made you slowly turn to face him. You both already wet from the rain.

“Don’t you fucking dare to baby girl me, you fucking asshole”, you didn’t raise your voice, but he could see the hurt in your words.

“Y/N, I couldn’t do it— this whole situation”, he tried to defend himself.

“Fuck you Pedro. Fuck you a million times”, you were a bit louder now. “Did it cross you pretty little mind that I need this fucking job? That I need people to fucking like me? Get off your ass and look around, man.”

“You are no actress, especially for a scene like that”, he said, raising his voice too.

“Why do you care? You don’t even recognize my existence anymore”, you felt like crying.

“That’s how much I care!” He ran his hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me since I met you? Being around you and saying no to every single one of my instincts demanding me to fucking make you mine? Since day one, Y/N. Since I saw you in that goddamn bathtub.”

“Who the hell asked you to do that?” You stared at his brown eyes.

“You didn’t even want people to know we were friends”, he did his best to not sound like he was blaming you. “I never know what to do around you and you don’t make my life easier with all those fucking mixed signs.”

“I fucking told you!” You come off louder than you meant. You take a tone down as you repeat yourself, “I fucking told you.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Can we go inside, please?”

You did as he asked and got you both towels. He sat on the corner of your bed.

“Look, sweetheart”, he began. You were still standing up, looking at him. “This whole thing… The age gap, it just— it won’t work out in the long run. After what happened, I truly felt bad with myself, as if I was taking advantage of you.”

“Wow, hold on a minute”, you shake your head. “Sure you are like, over 20 years older than me, I get that. But who the fuck was talking ‘bout forever? And most importantly, Pedro, I thought we fucking were friends! Why didn’t we talk about it?”

“I’m sorry—"

“I’m not done”, you interrupted him. “I’m no kid. I’m a fully grown woman who knows what she wants and I expected that after our last conversation you already knew what that was.”

You came closer to him.

“You are not manipulating me, Pedro”, you said as you got on your knees in front of him. “I want this, I want you. I fucking need you so badly.”

Your words gave him chills. You both knew that what you were craving would have a lot of implications for both of you.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes sparking. “Are you sober?”

"Unfortunately, I am”, you promised. “Please, don’t make me beg.”

You didn’t have to.

Pedro finally pulled you closer for a warm, passionate kiss. He held your neck with one hand, using the other one to pet your cheek. You made sure to reciprocate the intensity, getting your tongues to touch, making the kiss deeper. Your stomach felt like it was upside down, butterflies all over the place.

"Fuck, sweetheart", he growled in the middle of the kiss, you got goosebumps all over your body. He got you up and made you sit on his lap, so his hands could run more freely through your body. "You're so fucking beautiful, you know that?"

The thought of Pedro thinking you were beautiful made you blush. He had mentioned it a couple times before, when you're hanging out together, but in a more subtle way. You let your hands wander through his neck and arms, finally being able to touch him as you’ve been wanting since you two met. A moan escaped your lips and that was the sign Pedro was waiting to push you down to the bed, getting on top of you. You loved the feeling of this warm body on yours and you could feel the heat from between your legs increasing.

All you could think about is how you wanted him all over you, touching every single possible part of your body. His smell felt inebriating, as if he was the only thing you senses could process at this moment. Time stopped making any sense and you both pulled away after a while, gasping for air. He let his body fall down next to yours and you laid on your side, turned to face each other.

"You're a good kisser", he says, switching his look from your lips to your eyes.

"You're not bad yourself", you both giggled. He let his hand rest on your waist, putting you a little closer, saying nothing for a while. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just— I guess I’m worried about you”, he said, avoiding looking in your eyes now. “Keep thinking about what Dave said, people gossiping about us.”

“Usually I do my best to not listen to what people say,” you started. “But I guess I’ve been afraid of running the career I barely started.”

“I get that and I’m sorry I can’t protect you from it, sweetheart.”, he touched your cheek with his thumb. “We’ll just keep it between ourselves.”

CHAPTER 5 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86 @eliffluisa @jbcalway (does anybody know why i can’t tag some people?)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro x reader #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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gemglyph · 19 days ago

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I’ll give you all some advice, but first let’s take a walk together through some of my life.

I have some family that was killed in the Holocaust. I did not learn this until recently, but in retrospect I probably should have known.

What I had learned (when I was “old enough” and it was therefore deemed okay to talk about) was that my ashkenazi family narrowly avoided being slaughtered in the Holocaust by escaping to the US before the US closed its borders to jewish refugees.

I have always known since I was little that some of my family are jews from Sicily. They avoided pogroms (jew hunts) by hiding that they’re jewish. This part of my family immigrated (probably actually fled) to the US prior to WWII (or WWI, my family bickers about this. We don’t have records, I guess).

In both instances, they have to hide who they are to protect themselves.

Life happens, jews persist, I’m born.

Elementary school, I’m told by my family I can’t talk about my home life at school. I’m singled out by my peers and bullied for being different. I move states. Go to an entirely different elementary school. I’m singled out and bullied for being different. Jewish. Kids know this word, I know this word, it’s the 2000s, people use jew as a slur. You know that they mean it that way. Because they say it like it’s wrong.

Middle school, I only fit in with the “weird kids”. I have maybe 5 friends.

One of my friends mom is obsessed with taking me to church if I were to attend a sleepover. When I stop spending time over there because she made me uncomfortable, two of my friends confess they’re only around me because they’re trying to convert me to catholicism.

I have 3 friends.

One of my friends say they can’t be around me because it gets them bullied for associating with a jew.

I have 2 friends.

One of my friends moves away.

I have 1 friend.

It takes me being in high school for two years before I actually make any new friends. Some online, some in person. I find a couple more people I connect with and call my friends. I don’t fit in with the rest of my classmates. I’m aggressively bullied by two different groups of classmates. Jew is still used as a slur. People yell “Heil Hitler” at me in the hallway. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve actually seen the Nazi salute in person.

Because “I look jewish enough, people can just tell. It’s a joke”.

Is it? Is it a joke?

2016. I just graduated highschool and I’m in my first week of my first semester of community college. I’m stalked to my car after night class and basically pinned between my car and a big truck. He grabbed my hair and hit my head against my car. This extremely tall man tells me he should beat me to death right now because I’m a disgusting jew. I believe he will.

I’m saved by a stranger who pulls up and makes the man uncomfortable enough that he leaves. In the large truck that had been parked next to me.

I had nothing on me that is “visibly jewish”. He followed me because I look jewish enough to torment. Because I am.

I hate myself for months because I froze. I start paranoia carrying concealed knives and pray I don’t have to use them. I obsess over learning self defense. I’m disabled and not sure I’d actually be able to protect myself. I learn anyway.

2017. I drop out of community college for a few different reasons. I’m stalked on social media. I delete a lot of my accounts.

I find a job. I’m harassed every shift for six months by a supervisor who said he was happy his family was Nazis in Germany. Among many, many other things. Such as gas chamber “jokes”. My manager tells me it was a joke and to not take it too seriously.

I was working at Starbucks.

2018. I’m told that my grandma dying is a good thing because there’s “one less jew in this world”. My grandma was buried in a grave at a local christian church that she attended most her life because that was the only community she had. We never said anything to anyone (it wasn’t safe). This was supposed to be a family friend. This is my grandma’s funeral.

Later I find out that someone stole the things we left at her grave.

2020. I’m working as a pharmacy technician. My coworkers find out I’m jewish and tell me “not to wear anything that could show that because the area isn’t safe” for me. Because I’m jewish.

I stay at this job for a year before returning to school.

2021. I don’t tell anyone, people guess because I “look jewish” and ask me based on appearance. I have found a more accepting community, but I don’t share much. I’ve learned better.

2022. I make it to University. I don’t talk much to classmates, but I make friends.

2023. I talk about religion with a friend at school, they find out I’m jewish. Some people start avoiding me after October. I have said nothing other than mentioning I’m jewish.

2024. I am told, to my face, by a college student, that jews control the United States government, the media, and Hollywood. Citing a major conspiracy theorist. When prompted to consider his sources, he tells me I’m only saying that because I’m jewish.

This list is not exhaustive, but it is exhausting. I’ve faced this shit my entire life and I’m not alone. My story isn’t unique.

It’s nearing the end of 2024. There has been a huge rise in antisemitism/bigotry over the past year. People are doing the same things they have always done. Tormenting jewish people, calling us slurs, telling us to kill ourselves. The list goes on.

The Nazis came for the jews first. Our neighbors turned on us. Other marginalized people we hoped we could rely on threw us out hoping to save themselves. Only for the Nazis to come for them.

First they came for us jews.

They will come for you.

Do something about it.

#tw antisemitism #Never again has always been now.#I didn’t make this for pity or anything. I made this because it’s a warning.#Stop doing the right’s job for them. Actually persue activism #Because over half the shit I see on here isn’t.#No one is immune to propaganda

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stainedglasspanes · 3 months ago

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Watching Ina11 (Ep 78 - 89)

Korean trio my new beloveds... I feel like if I tried hard enough I could definitely write a long paragraph on them

Ep 78

Ep 79

Ep 80

Ep 81

Ep 82

Ep 83

Ep 84

Ep 85

Ep 86

Ep 87-88

Ep 89

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

Took a month break, the summer heat in august murked any remains of my will to do anything.

Gouenji your dad sucks be he truly is an asian parent. Give up your hobbies to focus on your future kind of person, not a favorite of mine. But also, wtf was the plan to send him to Germany of all places?? Can Gouenji even speak german? And if you planned to keep him overseas for further studies, what country was he gonna practice in?? Maybe he can learn over there and come back to take his uni studies in Japan but still huh?? Why not just have him study in Japan to begin with,, granted I’m taking the logistics of a soccer anime and running with it so eh idk.

Okay, the Korea team. I’m so,, surprised that they even did that. Zainichi-Koreans were subject to discrimination and hate even back then (2000s?) so honestly wow, there’s guts in that, I’ll commend it. Nagumo and Suzuno being paired together a lot, and then revealed as being Zainichi actually makes sense and hurts so much more goodness.. It makes sense why they’re orphans I really wish I could see more ex-Aliea banter but oh well

Fudou’s backstory,, gah I’ve gotten attached to this mohawk weasel. Of course if power equals safety in your head then you’re gonna ally with whoever grants you the most power (safety). He probably was desperate by that point when Kageyama threw him away, considering how much he buttered up (?), surely he believed that teaming with Kageyama would be the safest option. He’s hard to work with and is snappy but him and Kidou work really well as observers both on/off field. Also, he’s just a really good player like whoa? His plays are sometimes harsh but at the same time I can’t deny he makes progress.

I think I mentioned it already but I love the tactics and non-hissatsu moves in this season, it’s more explainable to an extent. Like, I can see these moves being put to play in games.

Fully expecting the Brazil team to be the final boss ngl, if they aren't I'll be shocked.

Kageyama needs to find a new hairdresser. The curls I can excuse, it fits. BUT the lemon blonde? Absolutely not. It’s not his color.

#watching ina11 #ina11 #inazuma eleven

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major-mads · 8 months ago

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Chapter 9: The Anatomy of Courage

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: this chapter has been in the works for a while, and a lot of research has gone into it! the scenes in Dulag Luft were heavily inspired by Frank Murphy's account of his experience there in his book, Luck of the Draw!! As always, thanks for being patient, and let us know what you think in the comments or our ask boxes!!💕

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 10k

September 20th: 07:20 AM

The roar of ME-109s and flack bursts echoed inside the Angel, producing a deafening cacophony of machine-gun fire and metal tearing into the C-47.

“There goes the last engine. We’re going down! We gotta bail out, girls. Grab your chutes now!” Frank yelled, the veins in the pilot’s arms bulging as he fought to keep the plane level. Hope remained frozen, staring at Billy’s lifeless body…he was only 21 years old.

“Hope?” Frank called out. “Hope, look at me! You’ve gotta go, get yourself and Ruth out, I’ll keep the old girl steady until you're both out, then I’ll be right behind ya.”

Hope shook her head, tears building in her eyes, “No! We’re in this together! I’m not leaving you, not now. Not after everything!”

“For Pete’s sake, Hope! Will you do as you’re told for once and stop being so damn stubborn!” Frank snapped with his eyes still trained ahead, and Hope noticed how the veins on his temples pulsed angrily, and his face grew redder by the second. “Now, please just go, I’ll be behind you, I promise!”

“Okay,” Hope nodded solemnly, climbing from the copilot's seat and hurrying towards Ruth, who was already shakily trying to put on her parachute. Hope helped her do up the straps and buckles before she did the same with Hope.

“I can't do this. I only jumped once in training. I-I can’t jump out of a plane. I’m a teacher, not a paratrooper. I-I…” Ruth continued to ramble, her panic-stricken features breaking Hope’s heart, and her tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Hope grasped hold of Ruth’s shoulders, pulling her shaking frame against her chest.

“It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna be just fine, but we’ve got to do this. We can’t stay here, Rue. I need you to be strong for me now, okay? I need you to be strong for both of us,” Hope tried to encourage the girl towards the door but she froze, riveted to the plane.

“But Hope, we’re over Germany. The-the Kraut’s will get us and then… then I don’t know what they’ll do to us.” Ruth’s bottom lip began to tremble, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.

Hope nodded solemnly, “I know we are, Rue, but this is our only option. I promise you that I will be with you every step of the way, no matter what, okay?” Hope squeezed Ruth’s hand and she returned the sentiment, allowing Hope to lead her towards the door.

Both girls hooked up to the static line, checking their equipment quickly. “Are you ready?”

Ruth nodded, swallowing the bile that threatened to creep up her throat as the plane shook violently beneath them.

“See you on the other side, Rue.”

“See you in a minute,” Ruth threw her arms around her friend, squeezing her tightly before stepping into the door, pausing for a moment before throwing herself out into the clouds.

As she fell through the air, her heart pounded against her chest with a ferocity that matched the roar of the wind rushing past her ears. Ruth’s static line unhooked, and just as her chute billowed into the sky, the roaring of a fighter and the sound of machine-gun fire filled her senses. She gasped as the rounds went directly around her, missing her body by just a few feet. Her chute, however, wasn’t as lucky. The white silk was littered with holes, and her descent accelerated rapidly, bringing her plummeting toward a nearby group of trees.

Ruth frantically tried to steer away from the forest, but the damaged chute was unresponsive. “No, no, no,” she cried, bracing for impact.

The treeline rushed up to meet her, and with a jolt, Ruth crashed into the dense canopy of trees, her chute becoming entangled in the branches. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through her body, and she cried out as she tumbled through the branches, her arms flailing desperately to break her fall. Twigs snapped, leaves rustled, and she felt the sharp sting of cuts and scrapes as she collided with the unforgiving branches.

Finally, The parachute ripped free with a sharp snap, and Ruth plummeted to the forest floor below. She landed hard with a thud, her left arm bearing the brunt of the impact, causing an excruciating jolt of pain to shoot through her, knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped for air and clutched her injured arm, tears trickling down her cheeks as she struggled to push past the overwhelming pain. Every nerve in her body screamed at her as she lay sprawled amidst the tangled undergrowth.

Panic gripped the woman like a vice as she realized the gravity of her situation. She was alone, injured, and in German territory.

Where was Hope? Frank?

Did they make it?

Thoughts raced through her mind, each one more terrifying than the last.

What if I never find Hope or Frank?

What if I’m captured by the Germans?

What if I never make it home?

What if I never see John again?

Ruth’s struggled to push back the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She thought back on Johnny’s calming words the day they’d first been hit by flack…

“I need you to breathe.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”

Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out…”

Taking slow, shallow breaths through her nose, she fought to regain control of her racing heart. She exhaled shakily and rolled onto her back, her gaze falling on the tangled mess of her parachute a few feet away. The once bright silk was littered with holes and large tears in the fabric.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “You can do this. You can do this.”

She sat up, gritting her teeth and scooting over to lean against a nearby tree, the rough bark pressing into her back. With a heavy sigh, she glanced down at the straps and clips of her harness still clinging to her body.

Her fingers trembled as she reached her right hand for the first clip across her chest, her injured arm protesting with each minuscule shift. Ruth managed to release the clip and moved her attention to the one connecting her leg straps. The right one came free easily, but she couldn’t quite reach the left clip over her bulky equipment.

“Come on, come on,” Ruth muttered under her breath as she struggled to reach the clip. Her small fingers brushed against the cool metal, but wasn’t enough to get it loose. She leaned her head against the tree and took a deep breath.

“Please.”

With one last effort, Ruth shifted and reached across her body for the latch. She felt the metal beneath her fingertips once again, but this time, she felt the button and pressed down on the release mechanism. It unlatched with a satisfying click as the clip came undone at last.

Ruth carefully slipped the harness from her shoulders before pushing herself to her feet. She needed to find Hope and Frank if any of them stood a chance of evading capture. Just as she set off, the hushed whisper of voices floated through the air, and Ruth’s heart dropped as she frantically searched for somewhere to hide. Her eyes caught sight of a nearby bush that was big enough and quickly took off for it. Just as she reached the cover, her foot caught on a root, sending her to the ground in a heap, branches crunching loudly beneath her. Pain shot up her arm as she collided with the dirt, and she bit down hard on her lip to stifle a cry. She pushed past the pain and scrambled completely behind the bush, covering her nose and mouth to quiet the sound of her pants.

Amidst the rustling leaves and her racing heartbeat, she heard it…the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked. Fear gripped her once again as she imagined the German soldiers closing in, coming to take her away, to do whatever they wanted with her.

Would Hope and Frank escape?

Would John ever know what happened to her?

Closing her eyes, she began to pray…

Lord, please protect Hope. Protect Frank. Keep them safe. Please give me the strength to endure whatever may come next if it’s Your will. And be with John, Lord. Watch over him. Amen.

The sound of footsteps drew closer and each crunch of leaves echoed like thunder in Ruth’s ears as she braced herself for the inevitable. She held her breath, waiting for the moment she’d be discovered.

But then a voice cut through the darkness, and Ruth’s heart skipped a beat. “Come out. Nice and slow.”

What German had a New Jersey accent?

She popped her head out from behind the bush with a small whimper, her eyes widening as Frank stood before her, his pistol pointed in her direction. He immediately lowered the weapon and Hope moved out from behind him, rushing toward the blonde.

“Ruth!” Hope gasped, falling beside her friend and throwing her arms around her neck, squeezing her close. “You’re okay.”

Relief filled her system seeing her best friend, and she hugged her back the best she could with her injured arm close to her chest. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, the pain moving to the back burner amid the pure joy she felt.

Hope’s hands fell instinctively to Ruth’s injured arm despite her friend’s small protest. She ran her fingers up and down the limb, noticing the swelling around the wrist and elbow joint. Rummaging in her musette bag, Hope pulled free some bandages, wrapping the affected limb tightly to provide some support and help reduce the swelling that was already growing along Ruth’s arm.

She sat back on her feet, scanning the area for the blonde’s parachute. Finding it a few feet away, she quickly grabbed it and pulled it over to the bush. She cut out a large triangle, folding it in half, and placing the injured limb inside the makeshift sling. She worked swiftly, and no words were exchanged between the three until Hope was finished.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Hope finally asked, tying the knot securely at the base of Ruth’s neck. She cupped her friend's cheek tenderly, and relief flooded through her as those bright blue eyes she’d grown to love so much blinked tearily back at her.

Ruth stood to her feet with a wince. “My chute got shot up and I-I hit the trees…fell on my arm,” she paused, her voice dropping to a pained whisper as the mere thought of the crash brought the pain crashing over her again. “Hope, I think…I think it’s broken.”

“Yeah, at least fractured,” Hope nodded with a concerned frown, wiping away some of the blood dripping from a cut on Ruth’s temple. “When we-”

Before the nurse could continue, Frank’s hand landed on her shoulder and his eyes scanned the forest around them. “I’m sorry, but we’ve gotta get going. The krauts are probably on their way as we speak.”

Hope quickly stashed the parachute behind the bush and took her place under Frank’s arm, allowing him to lean against her while Ruth watched with furrowed brows.

“What did you do?” she asked worriedly.

The pilot shot her a pained grin. “I’m alright,” he gritted as they started walking slowly. “Hope, we’ve gotta go faster. I don’t care about my ribs. Let’s go.”

Picking up the pace, they made their way through the small but hilly forest, eyes scanning the surrounding trees. Frank and Hope led the way and he held his pistol at the ready, nothing but the quiet sounds of their footsteps in the air. Ruth trailed right behind them, no less than an arm’s length away at all times. Her arm throbbed where it sat in the sling but she could only imagine the pain Frank was in. The nurses had seen a few grown men cry from the pain of a few broken ribs.

The sun sat high in the sky when they finally reached the forest’s edge, and more rolling hills and patches of forest stretched on in the distance, the only building in sight a small house in a clearing ahead. Hope panted from under Frank’s arm as the trio debated their next move.

“We can’t go out into the open. They’ll see us for sure,” Hope whispered, gesturing with her free hand for Ruth to come up beside them.

The blonde took a step forward, but when something cold and hard pressed against the back of her head, she froze. Her eyes widened and a gasp escaped her lips just before a hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her back into a warm body. The pressure moved to the side of her head…she knew what it was, and her chest heaved as terror overtook her.

They couldn’t be captured.

How were they supposed to be POWs?

What would they do to them?

Following her gasp, Hope craned her head to look over her shoulder at the blonde, her face falling at the sight before her. She met Ruth’s terror-filled eyes, and helplessness coursed through her. She opened her mouth to speak but the German beat her to it, his heavily accented voice harsh and guttural.

“Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot,” the soldier commanded, his words cutting through the silence of the forest.

Ignoring the pain in his torso, Frank spun around with his gun raised. His grip on the pistol tightened for a moment as his jaw clenched. With a gruff sigh, he slowly lowered the weapon to the ground, his eyes never leaving the soldier who held Ruth against his chest.

“Drop it!”

Tossing the pistol to the forest floor, Frank raised his hands to the best of his ability and Hope did the same, unable to tear her gaze away from Ruth’s. Her eyes seemed to tell her friend, ‘It’s okay. Just look at me. You’re alright.’

Ruth couldn’t do anything but watch as three krauts passed her and began searching Frank and Hope. The one holding her finally removed his hand and holstered his pistol before turning her to face him. His grey eyes scanned her face in a way that made her skin crawl, and Ruth’s mind noted the contrast between his greys and John’s that brought her so much comfort…the ones she loved. Her hand shook as she raised her right to the side of her head, the injured one remaining immobile against her chest.

The soldier began to search her, his hands roaming over her body roughly. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to stifle a gasp as his fingers dug into her pockets, pulling out her belongings one by one. Ruth’s heart sank as she watched him confiscate John’s letter along with their picture.

It was all she had left of him.

It was then when the searching hands became invasive, his groping and grabbing fingers lingering in places they had no right to be. She clenched her eyes shut as disgust washed over her.

“That’s enough,” Frank’s voice rang out, his eyes blazing with anger. “She’s not armed.”

The hands paused and the man stepped back, seemingly satisfied with the search. Ruth’s shaky hands remained in the air while the kraut handed her effects to a man wearing a cap bearing the Nazi eagle.

‘An officer,’ she thought.

A shiver ran through Ruth as her eyes fell to the man’s upper arm. The bright red armband and swastika of the Nazi party stared back at her, and she felt as if she was looking the epitome of evil in the face.

She was.

All the death, all the destruction…it was all because of these people. All because of Adolf Hitler. If they were willing to do whatever it took to win the war, what would they be willing to do to them?

She was pulled from her worry when the officer said something in German and motioned to his men to bring the prisoners forward in a line.

One of them grasped Ruth’s good arm and pulled her to fall in line beside Hope, who sent her an scared glance. Two soldiers stood on either side of them with rifles drawn as the officer stood before the Americans, an unsettling smirk on his lips.

“For you, the war is over.”

The cool morning breeze whipping through the torn canvas walls of the truck sent goosebumps across Ruth’s body, and she tugged her flight jacket closer to her body. She sat between Frank and Hope, her good hand now securely in her best friend’s. No words had been exchanged between the crew since they’d climbed in, and with the piercing eyes of three soldiers sitting across the truck from them, their rifles sitting on their laps, the Americans were terrified.

Exhaustion wore on them, but they could not sleep or close their eyes as adrenaline still coursed through their veins. The Germans had forced them through the dense, mountainous forest for half a mile before reaching a winding road among one of the hills where a troop transport truck awaited them.

Hope’s body almost gave in as they climbed aboard the truck, her muscles aching after supporting Frank for so long. Ruth had tried to take her place multiple times but was waved off due to her injury. And that’s where they found themselves…in the back of the truck driving through the German countryside.

The landscape was beautiful. Ruins of old castles atop mountaintops, picturesque villages, and lush green forests filled with tall spruces and pines caught the women’s attention through the opening in the back of the truck. Frank could’ve cared less and stared straight ahead, trying to focus on breathing and pushing through the pain radiating from his ribs.

Before long, the truck rumbled to a stop and they all shared a worried glance when the officer appeared at the tailgate.

“Out.”

Ruth carefully hopped out first, holding her throbbing arm tight against her chest while Hope helped Frank down. Their eyes widened in awe as they were met with a scene straight out of a storybook. If it weren’t for the Nazis pushing them along the road and the rifles pointed at them, they could’ve been on vacation, sightseeing in the beautiful town before them.

The narrow cobblestone streets wound their way through a maze of old buildings, each one with intricate timber frames and colorful exteriors. Some even had window boxes overflowing with vibrant flowers, adding to the warmth and color of the village.

A rough voice broke them from their awestruck gaze, and the soldier behind Hope nudged her with his rifle. “Walk!”

As they marched through the town, bloodied and looking worse for wear, residents became aware of their presence and peered cautiously from the sides of the street. Shopkeepers paused in their tracks, their hands stilling in their work as they watched the prisoners pass. Hope and Ruth drew more than a few puzzled looks, and some townsfolk whispered among themselves with expressions mixed with confusion and concern.

"Frauen? Was machen die denn hier?" muttered a woman passing them on the road, her words carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. An elderly woman beside her shook her head, her wrinkled brow furrowed in disbelief.

The group continued through the village, and just ahead, a few children played in the street. A barely perceptible smile played on Ruth’s lips as the kids' laughter echoed off the buildings. It made her think of Billy, Sammy, and that day on the hardstand they showed her around the plane, asking millions of questions. Her eyes remained on the kids when they approached, but her smile quickly fell when the children turned to look at them with pure disdain on their features.

One of the boys’ small hands formed into the shape of a gun and he pointed it straight at them. There was no playfulness in his gesture, no hint of amusement. Instead, his eyes contained a disturbing intensity as he mimicked the actions he had likely seen performed countless times by soldiers and adults around him.

A chill ran up Ruth’s spine, her stomach churning as she watched the boy move his hand with them until they passed. She exchanged a glance with Hope and Frank, and they all recognized the chilling reality of the situation. This was not a child playing a game…this was a child who had been taught to see them as enemies, as symbols of everything that stood against the beliefs instilled in him by the governing regime.

Glancing around at the faces of the townspeople, Hope couldn’t help but wonder how many others harbored similar sentiments. How many of the German people would kill them on the spot simply for the country they served, for the freedom they were trying to protect?

“I wonder where they’re taking us,” Hope whispered to Ruth.

The blonde bit her lip, her worried eyes flicking around them. “I don’t kn-”

"Ruhig! No talking!" the guard behind Hope spat, shoving her forward roughly, making her and Frank lose their balance and fall to the cobblestone street. The Captain fought to contain a groan as his knees collided with the stones, sending a shockwave of pain through his torso.

Ruth immediately moved to help them, her hand reaching out instinctively only to be yanked back by a strong grip on the collar of her flight jacket. She stumbled backward with a small whimper as the movement jostled her arm. Her voice caught in her throat and the words she wanted to speak were trapped by the knot of fear that gripped her.

She knew that any defiance would only invite further punishment, and she couldn’t bear the thought of making their situation any worse. If the actions of the young boy taught her anything, it was that the Germans had no problems with taking care of prisoners without proper treatment. So with trembling limbs, she obeyed the soldier’s command, her worried gaze flicking anxiously between Hope and Frank as they struggled to their feet.

“Help me,” Hope pleaded, her dark eyes looking through tears at the soldiers who merely smirked. “HELP ME!”

Ruth’s eyes burned as she watched Hope pull Frank to his feet, mumbling soft apologies when he whined in protest and clutched his broken ribs.

“Move!” One of the soldiers shoved the barrel of his MP-40 into Hope’s back, prodding her harshly, “Schnell.”

Hope reached behind her, gripping Ruth’s hand tightly and giving it one squeeze before releasing the blonde’s shaky hand. The group moved forward in a single file line, careful as they stepped down the stone street. Their eyes glanced around at the German villagers watching them like hawks...one wrong move and the group knew that this town would be their final resting place.

The guards led them along the river, the water rushing passed loudly as it wound through the village. Ruth’s eyes were glued to the town’s beautiful scenery, and she knew that she might not see anything as beautiful for a long while. A few seconds later, her gaze moved to the left, and caught sight of a large white building with four figures on the wall, one proudly hoisting the Nazi flag. Ruth shivered involuntarily at the pure adoration the German people had for the regime.

‘Some of them must not agree…right?’ she thought.

“Move, bitch,” one of the soldiers sneered, pushing the barrel of his gun into Hope’s back once more. Her jaw tightened and she knew resisting wasn’t going to be good for any of them, but she couldn’t help the urge to slap that stupid smirk on his face. She turned on her heels just as Ruth caught her arm, sending her a pitiful look that instantly caused Hope to soften. She nodded once in a silent promise that she’d behave, despite the anger rising within her. Frank nudged his shoulder into Hope, encouraging her to keep moving. It was a team effort for them all to survive, each having to bite their tongue and remain calm for their friends.

All too soon, the trio were ushered into a large building just beside the train tracks, and they could only assume it was the station.

Ruth’s heart dropped…They were being transported by rail, which meant the Americans were being taken farther into Germany…probably much farther.

Large letters hung above the door, the dark wood in contrast with the off-white stone of the building.

SCHILTACH

‘So that’s where we are,’ Ruth thought. She’d never heard of the city, but its name and what she experienced there would surely haunt her for the rest of her life.

It was a rundown building with cracks streaking up the walls, and any recollection of its pre-war days had long been extinguished. The walk through the building was short, and the soldiers quickly filed them through a single door and out onto the platform where a cargo train was stationed. Several more German soldiers and officers lined the platform, two with Alsatian dogs on leashes that somehow looked even more menacing than their handlers.

The officer leading them to the station stepped away, talking in hushed tones to another officer before nodding to his men. Frank was the first to be pushed forward and moved towards a railroad car, the door sliding open with a loud clang. The train cars were old, their outer wooden slats rotten and falling easily from their frames. They hardly looked worthy of a people who thought of themselves as the “superior race.”

Frank glanced back at the girls and stepped inside, disappearing into the darkness. It occurred then to Ruth that this might be their last time together. What happens if they get split up into different rail cars or trains? The thought of being alone without Hope and Frank filled Ruth with more anxiety, and she subtly grasped Hope’s arm.

The soldier behind Hope chuckled, leaning close to her ear and whispering, “You go next, schlampe.” Her whole body tensed as she stepped forward, feeling Ruth’s grip on her arm disappear. She couldn’t see into the train car and stepped in blindly, fumbling around until her hands fell onto a warm chest that smelt like the all too familiar aftershave.

From the moment Hope disappeared into the rail car, Ruth began to pray.

‘Please let me stay with them, Lord. Please. I can’t do this without them.’

She stood there holding her breath as the seconds ticked by like hours, and just when she began to lose hope, a hand collided with her back and shoved her forward. The sudden movement jostled her arm as she blindly fumbled around the dark train car until her waving hand finally grasped something warm. Knowing it was Hope, she melted into the woman, tears once again filling her eyes when a strong arm wrapped around her.

“We’re gonna be alright,” Frank assured them, rubbing their arms gently.

For some reason, now that they were away from the prying eyes of the Germans, they felt safer. It was like they could breathe easily for a little while. The railcar door suddenly slammed shut, plunging them into darkness. It was then Ruth noticed the smell…the strong stench of stale urine mixed with sweat and vomit. The rancid odor burned her nostrils with every breath, and nausea swirled in her stomach at the thought of what had happened in the car before them.

Who were they?

Where were they taken?

Were they alive?

The floor was damp beneath their feet and she could only imagine what they were walking on.

It was best not to know.

The trio settled down in the corner of the train where a small beam of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating just a small amount of the cramped quarters. Sighing, Hope slipped down the wall, nestling between Ruth and Frank. They all looked far worse for wear than earlier, and Hope wished she still had her musette bag of supplies. Reluctantly, she peeled the blood fabric of her overalls away from her right knee, examining the deep, angry gash that ran across the joint. She hissed, pulling the fabric back down and meeting Ruth’s eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand upon Ruth’s, smiling through gritted teeth.

Ruth’s eyes drifted back down to Hope’s knee, eyeing the growing crimson patch suspiciously. She’d known Hope long enough to know when she was lying, but knowing Hope, she wouldn’t admit how much pain she was truly in. Her blue eyes rose to Hope’s dark ones, “It looks pretty bad to me, Hope. I…”

“Hey, don’t worry about me, alright? Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.” Hope felt guilty, she knew she shouldn’t make promises she couldn’t keep, but seeing how Ruth visibly relaxed a little made the lie worth it.

What good would it do to make her best friend more worried?

The train rumbled to life and slowly pulled away from the station, sending a domino of shakes and shudders down the railcar as it pulled out of the station. The rocking was oddly comforting, like how a baby likes to be rocked in its bassinet, and after the trauma of the day, they needed any ounce of comfort they could get. Ruth finally relaxed into Hope’s side, burying her head into the crook of her neck as Frank sat quietly on the other side clutching his ribs, his breathing quieter now. Wherever they were going, it was probably a long ride, and for a moment they took comfort in the solace.

They must have drifted asleep because the next thing Hope remembered was the large container door being swung open, flooding the train car with a bright white light. She squished herself back into Frank, who had his arm protectively around her shoulder, trying to bury her head from the blinding light. Four figures stumbled through the light, disappearing into the darkened end of the car before the door swung closed once more. Everyone in the car remained silent, only the noise of Frank’s heavy breathing could be heard.

“Is someone in here?” A rather posh English accent was emitted from the darkness. Nobody spoke, too afraid of what more people in the car meant for them. “Hello?”

“What do you want?” Frank spoke up, his voice gruff and hoarse from the dusty air within the train car.

“Nothing,” the man replied, “Other than to know where they’re sending us.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Hope replied, shuffling forward until Frank’s hand came across her chest, stopping her movements. She could see the whites of his eyes in the darkness looking at her sternly and beside him Ruth’s eyes stared wide and frightened.

“Is that a woman’s voice?” Another man asked, followed by a shuffling noise. It sounded as though the men were approaching them and Hope held her breath until her hand came into contact with a warm body.

“I’m Wing Commander Jones, this man to my right is Squadron Leader Colman. The two on my left are Flight Officers Carter and Williams. We’re with the RAF,” Jones spoke up, reaching his hand out for Hope to shake. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and she could make out the rather battered features of the Wing Commander. He was a handsome fella, only in his late 20s with sandy blonde hair. The other three men looked no better off, all bloody and bruised.

“I’m First Lieutenant Hope Armstrong, I’m a U.S. Flight Nurse. This is my colleague Second Lieutenant Ruth Morgan and our pilot, Captain Frank Martin.”

The men all nodded in greeting, and Frank and Ruth greeted them in turn before the pilots took their seats on the rough wooden floor, huddling together like the trio had when they had first boarded.

The locomotive soon rumbled to life again, pulling away from the station with its wheels clattering loudly against the tracks. The wind whooshed past the engine, creating an eerie whistling noise between the railcars. The occupants remained silent, all too deep in their own thoughts to talk amongst themselves.

Ruth moved to rest her head against Hope’s chest, snuggling into her friend's flight jacket and enjoying the familiar smell of Hope. She felt safe, warm, and familiar…something that the blonde clung to as they rocked to and fro in the dark. Ruth’s heart rate slowed a little in the familiar embrace. She just wanted to sleep, the pain in her arm having ebbed to a dull ache for the time being. As long as she didn’t move the limb, it wasn’t too bad.

“You okay?” Hope whispered, pushing a few wisps of blonde hair from her friend's forehead. Ruth looked up at her, large blue eyes reflecting in the dim light. They looked tearful, and Hope drew her arm up around Ruth, pulling her against her body.

“It will be alright, Rue. You’ll see. We’ll be okay,” she mumbled, pressing her lips to Ruth’s forehead.

“You can’t promise that,” Ruth mumbled, snuggling her head further into Hope’s chest, hearing her heart beating strongly against her ear reminding her that they were still alive. “Are you scared?”

Hope nodded, letting a few tears slip silently down her cheeks, the image of her best friend looking so broken and forlorn hurt more than she could bear. “Course, I’m scared, Rue, but we’ve got to be strong. We’ve got to get back to John and Gale, remember? And Hugh too.”

A small smile spread across Ruth’s lips as Hope jokingly added her brother as an afterthought.

“If I remember rightly, I have a wedding to get to, and I need my maid of honor there with me,” Hope glanced down at Ruth, looking upon the mass of blonde curls that now lay in her lap. She wished she could be as scared as Ruth, and truly she was, but something in her made her stay strong. She couldn’t afford to give up hope yet.

Ruth rolled onto her side, looking up at her friend, a small smile playing on her lips, “I can’t wait for your wedding. You’re gonna look so beautiful, Hope.”

Ruth had to admit that she’d been a little more than excited about the prospect of a wedding. They had so little to look forward to in this darn war that it was the highlight of Ruth’s year, well maybe after meeting John, of course.

Hope smiled weakly, “Thanks, Rue. That’s why I need my best girl there beside me. I can’t do it all alone,” she shook her friends' shoulders playfully, careful to mind her injured arm.

“You won’t be alone, you’ll have Gale,” Ruth corrected her, “And we all know that you won’t be needing me after you're married. You two will be having too much fun,” Ruth smiled sadly, the reality of them splitting up hitting her more than she’d ever realized. They’d taken for granted every day they’d been able to spend together, and the thought of not seeing Hope’s smiling face daily made her heart ache a little more.

Noticing Hope’s strained expression, she piped up. “I don’t know if John would like the idea of me being your best girl instead of his.”

Hope chuckled, “Hey, I claimed you first. You’ll always be my best girl, Ruth.” She brushed her fingers softly over the older woman’s forehead, tracing the worry lines with her index finger. “Love you, Rue.”

Ruth wasn’t sure why Hope had suddenly turned so sentimental, normally she was the levelheaded one of the pair, the quick thinker, the reliable one, but now..

“Love you too, Hope,” she replied quietly, her eyes drawing closed as she slipped out of consciousness again as the rocking of the railcar sent her to sleep.

The red leaves of the maple trees danced in the wind as Ruth’s small feet pedaled down her street, waving to neighbors as she passed. Her training wheels wobbled beneath her, but it didn’t stop her from going just as fast as the other speeding by.

“Who you got tonight?” Jimmy Watson called from across the road, pausing from raking the hundreds of leaves from his yard. His lines on his elderly face always seemed to soften at the sight of the girl.

A wide, toothy grin grew on her face, and she slowed her pace. “You know who!”

“Nahhh, there’s no way they’ll win,” Jimmy laughed. “They’re on a 15 game losing-streak.”

Ruth pedaled faster with a shrug. “We’ll see! Talk to ya’ later!”

Just as she reached her driveway, a little boy came bursting through the door, his blonde curls bouncing as he ran towards her. “Ruth! They’re about to throw the first pitch! Come on!”

She quickly dismounted and leaned her bike against the garage door, following her brother into the house as their shoes squeaked on the floors. With a quick reminder of “no shoes in the house” from their mother, the siblings ran into the living room and cranked up the radio.

They lay on the rug beside the radio, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they listened to the game on the edge of their ‘seats.’ Jimmy was right…the Braves were on a 15-game losing streak, but Ruth had hope.

‘This is the one,’ she thought. ‘This is it.’

As the crackling voice of the announcer filled the room, the Morgans were bursting at the seams with anticipation. “Bobby Smith winds up…throws…and it’s a curve ball just dotting the corner of batter’s box for strike one!”

With an excited squeal, Ruth raised her hand to high-five James, but when she turned, he was gone. She glanced around the room with furrowed brows as static suddenly burst through the radio, the harsh sound making her jump.

What was going on?

She rose to her feet quickly and called out for her family. “Mama? Jamie? Daddy?”

“Ruth.”

Confusion clouded her mind as the scene around her began to shift, the walls of her childhood living room melting away like wax in a fire. The comforting warmth of the room was replaced by the dimly lit interior of a pub that she quickly recognized as the one in Dickleburgh. Blinking in surprise, Ruth tried to make sense of the sudden change, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around, searching for anything to tell her what was going on.

And then, she saw him…John, sitting across from her with his signature grin plastered on his face.

When did she sit down at a table?

“You alright there, doll?” he asked, his voice cutting through the haze of her confusion.

Ruth glanced around the room, noticing for the first time the few people scattered across the pub. “Uh, yeah,” she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I must have been daydreaming.”

He raised an eyebrow mischievously. “About me?”

“Oh, shut it. You wish.”

“It was about me, wasn’t it.”

Was it? What was she even thinking of before?

“Maybe,” she replied anyway with a strained smile as she met his gase. “But, uh, don’t let it go to your head, hotshot.”

Before John responded, a subtle shift in his demeanor caught her attention. The playful gleam in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a look of concern that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Ruth,” he said, his voice suddenly serious as he reached across the table to take her hand in his. “You need to wake up.”

His words caused a surge of panic to grip her heart. Was she dreaming? Was any of this real?

“What do you mean?” she asked with a trembling voice.

Johnny leaned forward, his eyes searching hers intensely. “Listen to me, Ruth,” he said urgently, his voice low but firm. “You need to wake up. They’re coming…you need to be ready. I love you.”

With a gasp, Ruth jolted awake, her heart racing as the remnants of her dream faded into the reality of her situation. For a split second, she felt disoriented, unsure of where she was or what was happening around her. But then, the traincar shuddered to a halt and jolted them forward before slamming them back against the hard, wooden wall of the car. Her eyes widened in alarm as the door to the railcar was thrown open, flooding the dimly lit space with blinding daylight.

“OUT! OUT! OUT!”

Without hesitation, Ruth scrambled to her feet beside the rest of the prisoners, her muscles aching from the uncomfortable position she’d been sleeping in. The prisoners all jostled against each other to climb through the door, sending sharp pains through her arm. Hope hopped down first, turning to help Ruth, but she was pushed forward just as the blonde reached for her hand. Ruth watched in horror as a German wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away.

“No! Hope!” Ruth cried, trying desperately to push through the prisoners toward her friend, but the densely packed bodies were too tight. “Hope!”

As she was shoved with the flow of the crowd, Frank suddenly appeared beside her, his face screwed up in a pained expression. “Where is she?!”

“We got separated! A Kraut grabbed her! I-”

He instantly rose to his full height and looked over the dozens of heads surrounding them, his eyes scanning the faces of the scared prisoners. Frank then realized there were many more railcars behind theirs, adding even more panicked soldiers to the already busy platform.

Just when he was about to give up, he caught a flash of Hope’s long, dark hair, and his heart rose to his throat. But just as quickly as he saw her, she was gone.

“Hope!”

Ruth clutched Frank’s A-2 jacket tightly as tears trickled down her cheeks. A few moments later, the prisoners were forced into a single file line and led through the disgusting, run-down wartime lobby of Frankfurt’s main railway station. Groups of angry civilians lined the sides of the station, but to their relief, the people thenkfully restraining themselves from attacking. Both of them kept looking over their shoulder for any sign of Hope but were pulled from their search when a thick German accent filled the air. “You two!”

Stepping out of line, they stood in front of the German. He wore a different uniform than the other guards, the grey of the others replaced by a dark blue.

“You are with the Air Forces, yes?”

‘So he’s Luftwaffe.’ Ruth thought.

Frank nodded silently and Ruth tried to blink away her tears, but they wouldn’t stop.

Where was Hope?

Where was her best friend?

“You come with me.”

The duo shared a wary glance before slowly following him, two other guards behind them as they walked down a hallway, its dark green paint peeling and chipping with age. He led them through a door and to a transport truck much like the one they’d arrived to Schiltach in. As they slowly climbed aboard, the officer raised an eyebrow.

“There were three of you? Another woman, yes?”

Ruth nodded again while Frank dared to speak. “We were separated. One of your guys dragged her away.”

He seemed to briefly contemplate the Captain’s words, then wordlessly walked back into the station, leaving the prisoners under the supervision of two Luftwaffe soldiers too caught up in their conversation to worry about the Americans.

“Do you think he’s finding Hope?” Ruth asked quietly, quickly wiping the tears from her face. They stung the small cuts from her crash, but that was the least of her worries.

“I hope so.”

The pair were made aware of another prisoner’s presence as a cough from further into the truck filled the air. “How’d you end up becoming a POW, ma’am? Haven’t seen any women during my lovely tour through France and Germany.”

Turning towards him, Ruth’s eyes narrowed slightly as she scanned his face.

He looked so familiar.

The airman wore her same puzzled expression for a few moments until recognition dawned on him. “Wait…You’re Bucky’s girl, aren’t you? The flight nurse?”

She nodded, her hand flying to her mouth as she realized she’d seen him around Thorpe Abbotts.

He was in the Hundredth! He knew John and Buck!

“We’ve never been introduced, but the name’s Bob. Bob Wolff. I’m in…or was in the 418th with Egan. Best Squadron Commander I’ve ever had. Amazing leader.”

A teary smile grew on her lips. “He is, isn’t he?” she paused, her mind thinking of her beloved Major. “It’s nice to meet you, Bob. I’m Ruth, and this is our pilot, Frank. We don’t…we don't know where Hope is.”

“Hope? Cleven’s fiancée, Hope?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh boy,” Bob sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not in Thorpe Abbotts right now.”

Frank and Ruth shared a confused glance and looked back at the man. “What do you mean?”

“I have a feeling a few firecrackers are gonna go off until they get word you’re alive.”

“If they get word we’re alive,” Frank muttered under his breath.

If Ruth was being completely honest, she hadn’t thought of how John would take the news. It was no secret that Bucky Egan could be a hothead, aways the first one to volunteer to fight in the pubs when the RAF got under the Americans’ skin. But that was something as trivial as annoyance…how would he react to her going down?

The blonde knew how she’d react if their roles were reversed…she would crumble.

Would he revert to his old habits?

She prayed he wouldn’t.

Before she could speak, the loud opening of the station’s side door stole their attention. Relief washed over them at the sight of Hope emerging from the building. The Luftwaffe officer led her by the elbow, showing a surprising level of respect compared to the rough treatment they’d experienced earlier.

Wolff moved toward the back of the truck to sit across from them and extended a hand to Hope, who took it with a nod. Ruth shot to her feet the second she was on board and enveloped her into a tight embrace, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm at the movement.

“I-I tried to get to you,” Ruth whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Hope returned the hug, pulling back with tear-filled eyes. “It’s okay, Rue. I know.”

From beside them, Frank’s brows furrowed as he caught sight of something on her neck. He gently reached out and brushed aside Hope’s dark hair, revealing a series of finger-shaped bruises forming along her throat. Anger flared within the man at the sight, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“What happened?” Frank asked, his voice low and protective

“I fought against the kraut that grabbed me…he didn’t like that.”

Frank realized she didn’t really want to say anymore and gave her hand a tight squeeze. She reached up, rubbing the bruises on her neck and collar bone. The guards soon climbed on board, and the trio sat along the wooden benches as the truck rumbled to life, taking off down the road. Hope intertwined her hand with Ruth’s and offered a comforting squeeze while Frank stared daggers at the Luftwaffe airmen in the truck.

It was only around twenty minutes when the truck rolled to a stop in front of a multiple-building complex surrounded by barbed wire and guard posts. A large wooden sign with white lettering stood at the entrance, and they all stared at the words as if they could possibly decipher the sign’s meaning despite not speaking a word of the language.

The officer reappeared at the tailgate, gesturing his head to the side. “Get out.”

They all followed the orders and hopped out of the truck, their boots squelching in the mud beneath their feet. Each helping the person behind them down until the four were led into the camp. The barbed wire stood tall above them as they silently walked through the gate and into a nearby wooden building.

A few desks were scattered about, and the multiple windows allowed the bright sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark room. Without a word, they were directed to stand in a line, their backs against the wall. The ever-present knot of anxiety in Ruth’s stomach reared its ugly head and she felt nauseous…this was really happening.

One by one, they were called forward to be fingerprinted and photographed. Ruth was called first and felt a shiver go down her spine as the soldier roughly grabbed her hand and pressed her fingers onto the cold and inky pad, stamping it onto her processing form. She then moved further down the line to the photographer, whose face held the first semblance of sympathy she’d seen all day.

“Against the wall, please.”

Ruth obeyed and stood against the wall, forcing the corners of her lips to raise just slightly into a smile…or at least the best one she could muster. As the man raised the camera, her mind flashed back to the last time her picture was taken.

“Hey, Schwarz. Mind getting a picture of just the two of us?”

He nodded enthusiastically, adjusting the camera to focus on the couple. Bucky flashed a charming smile as he reached over and gently tugged Ruth from her chair into his lap.

“Hey!” she protested playfully, her cheeks flushing pink as John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close.

Ruth giggled as Johnny leaned in, his cheek pressing against hers as they posed for the picture. Despite her initial protest, she found herself melting into his embrace. The photographer chuckled at their antics, capturing the moment with a few clicks of his camera. She glanced up at the Major just as Schwarz lowered his camera, and Bucky planted a soft kiss on her lips.

The table erupted into a chorus of whistles and hoots, their friends cheering them on as they kissed. Ruth laughed against John’s lips, feeling a rush of happiness and warmth enveloping her. Pulling back slightly, John gazed into her blue eyes, his own filled with pure adoration as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.

The camera’s click pulled her from her thoughts, and she tried to blink away the memory.

“Go sit,” the German directed, pointing to the benches in the corner of the room.

As she sat down on the bench, her body ached. She needed to be in a safe place, a comfortable space to sleep soundly, but her hope for that dream lessened as every moment passed. With a quiet sigh, Ruth blinked away tears that filled her eyes and watched Frank, Hope, and Bob go through processing. One by one, they joined her on the bench, none of them brave enough to speak in the stifling atmosphere of the room.

Once they were all finished, they were escorted from the intake building to a much smaller one across a large, muddy courtyard. A wall of warmth hit them as they shuffled into the room, and Ruth’s stomach growled at the smell of food being cooked. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her realize they hadn’t eaten all day. When the call came for their run, Ruth had grabbed a few pieces of bacon and planned to grab an actual meal when they got back to base later.

That plan went up in smoke the second their plane did.

They walked further into the room and sat at one of the long tables set up, Hope found her mouth watering. The four Americans shared confused glances while waiting for someone to speak. They stared at the officer expectantly, but he just nodded at something behind him and moved to stand by the door.

The RAF men who were with them on the train soon appeared in the doorway and were ushered towards their table. They all shared confused looks until a door opened at the other end of the room and several weathered-looking men walked in. They were dressed in the Air Force blue that the RAF was known for, their hair a little longer and shaggier than the pilots they had arrived with. Many of them had beards or some other sort of facial hair and they looked tired, dark circles under most of their eyes.

One of the younger men set out a bowl in front of each of the people sat around the table. Hope glanced over at Ruth who shared her confused expression.

Were they going to feed them?

The other two prisoners pushed a stainless steel trolley with a large silver pot on top. They opened the lid, revealing a steaming, brown liquid that was quickly slopped into the bowls. Hope grimaced at the chunks floating in the watery, brown soup. She decided not to ask what it was made of.

“How long have you been here?” Wing Commander Jones asked the youngest prisoner, grabbing his arm to stop him as he retreated from the table.

“I don’t know,” the young man admitted, his pale blue eyes casting a quick glance over the table. “Welcome to Germany, Sir.”

“Welcome to hell, more like,” one of the older men serving the soup spoke quietly, gazing over at the two Luftwaffe officers who remained in the doorway. “Just keep your heads low and keep out of trouble until they move you on. You shouldn’t be at Dulag Luft too long.”

“Move us on?” Frank spoke up. “Where do they move us to?”

The man shrugged, his uniform slipping a little on his thin, boney shoulders. The girls shared a look…a silent question.

How long would they be here?

“No one knows. Dulag Luft is where they hold you until they decide where to send you for the rest of the war. Some are here a few days, others a few weeks. Depends how long it takes them to place you,” he remarked, securing the lid back on the now empty pot. “You’re lucky if you get one run by the Luftwaffe. I hear they treat prisoners better than the Wehrmacht.”

The three prisoners retreated back through the doors at the end of the hall, followed by one of the officers, and the group was left in silence. Those at the table all shared the same anxious look, and even the Wing Commander’s dark eyebrows pulled tightly together.

“We should eat up,” Squadron Leader Colman interrupted the silence, digging his little spoon into the soup. He swallowed the liquid quickly, and Ruth wondered whether that was a good or bad thing. Regardless, they all followed suit, eating the bland soup quickly. Hope relished at the feeling of the warm liquid slipping down her throat, soothing her nerves slightly. It didn’t taste good, but it was warm, and that was all she could ask for.

As soon as they finished eating, three Luftwaffe officers strolled into the room, their long boots tapping harshly against the wooden floor of the hut.

“Up. Up,” the first one ordered, pushing several RAF men out of their chairs before moving around to the Americans. They formed an orderly line but no one dared to speak. The German officer at the front spun on his heels, marching loudly up the hall to which everyone followed.

Hope glanced nervously behind her, catching Ruth’s wide eyes as she sent her a reassuring smile. The younger nurse kept her pace just behind Frank, ensuring she didn’t fall behind the other prisoners.

They were led out of the mess hut and past a courtyard into another long, wooden building resembling the others they’d seen. The air turned bitterly cold as the evening drew in, and a shiver ran through Ruth as she wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her freezing hands into her armpits.

The officer swung open a door and led the prisoners into the building connected to the one beside it by a narrow passage. As they followed him through the compound, Ruth’s stomach swirled with anxiety at the dozens of doors that lined the long hallway. She had a sinking feeling there were prisoners on the other side of each.

Just how many prisoners were there?

When the line came to a sudden stop, Ruth watched as a guard unlocked one of the doors, throwing it open with a loud creak. “In,” he commanded Wing Commander Jones who glanced back at his men before stepping inside, the door shutting quickly behind him.

They moved to the cell next door and repeated the same action with Squadron Leader Colman. It was then that reality hit Ruth, and she realized they were being split up. The anxiety within her turned to pure dread, and the nurse fought to keep the tears from welling in her eyes. Hope had always been there beside her, helping her when things were falling apart, but what would she do without her? What would happen to either of them if they were alone?

Hope came to the same conclusion, reaching cautiously behind her until Ruth grasped her hand silently. She squeezed the blonde’s hand reassuringly in a silent promise that everything would be okay, even if she didn’t believe that herself.

Staying calm only grew harder as the line of prisoners dwindled, and Frank sent the girls a pained smile just as a guard shoved him into a cell, closing the door with a bang.

Hope was next.

The guards moved to unlock a cell a few down from Frank’s, the wooden door swinging back with an eerie creak to reveal the dark room within. Ruth’s mind reeled as she watched Hope stare into the cell, unable to step forward. As much as she wanted to stay with her, she silently urged her to step inside, to go without a fight.

Resisting would do nothing but worsen their already terrible situation.

Before Hope worked up the courage to step forward, the guard shoved her into the cell, shutting the door behind her. Hopelessness washed over Ruth, and tears finally trickled down her cheeks as she heard her friend’s muffled and panicked cries through the thick door.

“No! RUTH!”

“Hope!!” She yelled back, her voice cracking while the guards moved her down the hall. “I’ll be okay!”

Ruth wiped her wet cheeks with her sleeve, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm her racing heart, but nothing worked.

She was alone.

With every step farther from Hope and Frank, her hope dwindled, as well as her composure. They took a right down another identical hall, and the thud of Ruth’s boots were the only sound echoing through the long corridor. Just as with the other prisoners, the officer stopped, gesturing to the guard to unlock the cell. With an even louder shriek than Hope’s, the door swung open.

From where the light spilled into the dark room, Ruth saw a wooden cot and a chair pushed against the corner. She swallowed thickly and stepped forward into the cell, her nose wrinkling at its dank smell when the door slammed behind her. It took a few moments for her tear-filled eyes to adjust to the newfound darkness.

Ruth ran her hand along the wall until she reached the corner and carefully sank to the floor, the cold, rough walls pressing in on her from all sides. Alone in the darkness, fear gnawed at her insides, twisting and turning until she felt as though she might suffocate beneath its grip.

Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold block wall, her throbbing arm hugged to her chest. “Lord, please give me strength,” Ruth whispered, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Give us all the strength to make it through this. Please.”

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retnym · 2 years ago

Text

WORLD TOUR- .03

"Get a room!"

(just a little heads up you might be upset with this chapter but like I said this is a slow burn! There's gonna be some obstacles.)

The first official day of the tour, meaning it had been two weeks since we announced our news in the interview. It’s also been two weeks since I punched Tom in the jaw. We really haven’t talked to each other since then, with no flash outbursts of arguments or really acknowledging each other unless it was a quick dirty look or snarky comments under our breaths.

It had been getting to the others. They were used to us messing with each other but now it’s just pure anger. Pure hatred. We couldn’t stand each other before, but now we couldn’t fathom one another.

Touring is going to be… something.

Speaking of which our first day is in Cologne Germany. Since it’s the first night we’re going all out. Of course, we’re going to go all out for the other nights but this one is special. This is what shoots off our tour together. As a family. Even if this family is a little screwed we’d have each other’s backs at the end of the day.

I’d hope Tom isn’t too childish to screw anything up for us.

Right now, I had just finished dressing into a red tank top and black baggy ripped jeans that underneath have fishnets to show underneath. Our makeup artist just finished everyone else's makeup so now it was on to me. She has to make sure we don’t look washed out on stage then we can add whatever we like.

Which is exactly what we’re doing, Bill is doing his little details for me. “Alright, Bill you can come in.” She sighs, looking back at her work before leaving for the singer to barge in and mess it up. He had just finished doing his hair and makeup himself when he was waiting for me to finish up myself.

As he did my makeup he looked extremely focused, wouldn’t let me talk, and wouldn’t talk himself and if I did talk he’d shush me along with smacking my hand pretty hard.

“[Name]?” A voice calls, my head snapping in their direction. Ultimately destroying Bill’s work, once again earning another slap on the hand like I was a toddler. “[Name]!” He cries, going to my vanity and grabbing a makeup rag. I place m hands up in defense, immediately apologizing.

It ended up being Gustav who called for me so he apologized as well. “What’s up?” I ask the blond, turning my head back for Bill to clean up and then redo what I had messed up.

Gustav ends up standing behind Bill, watching the face beating I was currently getting from an eyeshadow brush. “I want to tell you now but I’m scared you’re going to mess up his look again.” He laughs, and Bill just flips him off. Continuing to not speak like he was doing beforehand.

“What’s wrong with him?” He jokes, I just press my lips together basically saying I don’t want to say or else I’m going to get hit again. My hand is probably going to bruise from the aggressive hits.

As we waited for him to finish up Gustav was humming tunes, pretending to drum behind Bill. Unfortunately making me laugh and of course, getting hit!

“Okay, I’m done. What do you want to tell her?” He puts a hand on his hip, standing up. Now the attention goes to the drummer who took a deep breath.

“Someone’s here for you.”

“Who?” I motion for him to carry on, getting up from my seat myself.

“Jace Comdonian.” Bill and I gasp, grabbing onto each other in shock. “No fucking way.”

“Where!?” I scream, Bill laughs as Gustav points down the hall, both of us booking it. Going to make a left but Gustav shouts; “Wrong way!” We push over each other, going in the correct direction now. We see the familiar curly-headed boy from behind who was talking to a security guard. “Jace!!” We shout, he slowly turns our way, his face lighting up he waves at us.

I couldn’t believe it!

I run straight into his arms and he lifts me up, he kisses my cheek before letting me down. “I can’t believe you’re here!” I hold onto his face, forgetting about everyone around us.

Jace was my first official boyfriend when I was 15. It’s been two years since we ended our relationship. Due to me having to leave for the United States a lot for my acting roles, we called it quits. He couldn’t handle the long distance and it was just better off being really good friends. Now I won’t say my feelings have completely gone away (because they haven’t) but we talk every now and then. The last time we talked was five months ago and he was dating a girl.

Happy for him (No I wasn’t).

“Well, Johanna was supposed to be here too.” He awkwardly says, scratching the back of his head. Right. Johanna was supposed to come to take photos for tonight but she got really sick last minute. Food poisoning I think.

“She will be missed.” I kiss my fingers, lifting them into the air dramatically. Bill shoves me out of the way and bro hugs Jace. They were pretty close too while we dated. Jace got along with pretty much everyone.

Except for Tom but that didn’t really matter to me.

“How have you been?” Bill asks him, now stealing him from me so I stand back with Gustav who just caught up. “Doesn’t Tom hate him?”

“Yeah, who cares though.” I roll my eyes, leaning onto him as he threw an arm over my shoulder, snickering at what I said. I don’t know how they are friends with us. Our nonstop arguing or comments about each other. I wonder if they’ve ever thought about dropping one of us. Probably me if anything since Tom is Bill’s twin and everything. I wouldn’t blame them either if we’re being honest.

I’m getting side track though. Jace, Jace is wonderful. He was always supportive of me in our relationship. He always wanted me to sing or play the guitar for him. Or show him my auditions for the movies or shows I was getting into. He would fly in sometimes and watch on set.

I’d do the same for him but he doesn’t want the spotlight of fame. He wants to be a teacher, something I respect even though I never really went to school growing up. He wants to teach elementary kids, mainly he wants to get into art.

Something I personally fell in love with after him telling me. He is perfect in my eyes. His tan skin, curly brown locks, hazel eyes, and just the perfect dimples that indented every time he smiled.

“[Name]” It’s almost time!” Georg calls, I push away from Gustav. “Already?” I widen my eyes, I feel like we just did mic checks only thirty minutes ago but looking at the time it’s been two hours. I go up to Jace and kiss his cheek. “We’ll talk after the show?”

“Of course.” He smiles, nodding for me to go on.

“Make sure he gets to the front alright, please.” I plead with one of the security guards who just nods. I take a deep breath and hurry down the hall with the three boys. I’m guessing Tom is already where he needs to be.

A lady hands me a mic, and I go on before the others. Just to start the show and then the next song they come in.

“Hello, Cologne Germany!” I scream (obviously this is in German but I am not embarrassing myself by translating off Google.)

The crowd goes wild as I enter the stage, I wave to everyone. The song was already starting. During it, I’d check to the side to see the guys getting ready, they all cheer me on as I performed.

The feeling was euphoric as I felt the vibration of my own voice not only in my throat but around the room. The electricity of attention these people had on me made me want to do it all night.

As the song ended the lights dimmed to only me. “I wanted to thank everyone who came out tonight.” I smiled as everyone cheered once again.

“Tonight will be a tremendous show, not only from me but my boys in Tokio Hotel.” Taking a deep breath, I continue on. “This will be the first step into many different countries and areas all over. Your love has brought me to go on, to live this wonderful life I live so I give you just a fraction of my appreciation. The rest will be later on.” As they cheered, the boys get into their places, since the lights weren’t on over there no one saw them.

Then all of a sudden instruments begin and the lights flash on.

The night was filled with laughter, slight mess-ups, and just so much fun. Tom and I competed with our guitars, obviously wasn’t meant to show but everyone noticed. Bill and I dramatically danced with each other as we sang. I went over to Gustav’s platform during the night at one point and showed off my little drum skills. Georg and I threw water at people together as well.

I want my shows to not only show off my voice but show who we are as people. Make us seem more human than just celebrities.

Of course, it had to come to an end. It even made me a little emotional to have to get off stage. It was our first night of a huge adventure, something I feel like I’ve repeated over and over but it’s true. This isn’t going to be some little thing that ends in months. It won’t end for a year. A year stuck with these boys who I grew up with as children. Been on magazines with. Endless sleepovers. Everything.

“You did amazing!” I brought Georg and Gustav into a hug, all of us wet from the rain part of Monsoon that Bill made us do. “You’re one to talk, you had the crowd going crazy.” Georg hugs me back. I just wave him off, pretending to blush. Tom was behind us with Bill, they were silently talking about something so I turned around, letting go of the two. “Nice job, Tom.” I politely smile, he raises a brow at first but quietly thanks me. “You too.”

“You guys did fucking awesome!”

All of us turn to see Jace and I smile, heading over to him and hugging him. Purposely getting him wet. He tries pushing me away but just gives up in the end. “You liked it?” I asked after everyone thanked him. Tom had stopped in front of us, he was giving his guitar to a stage manager.

“Like it? I loved it.” He squeezes me into the hug more.

“Move it, you’re in the middle of the hall.” Tom shoves through us, I went to say something back but Jace stops me. “I see he hasn’t changed.”

I sigh, shaking my head. But I push myself back remembering he does have a girl. Even if we’re good friends I need to know my place with this.

“What?” He tilts his head.

“Your girlfriend.” I laughed mainly to myself.

“Girlfriend?” He almost looks offended, not even remembering his own girlfriend? “Oh! Last time we- right. We broke up like a week after that phone call.” He chuckles, pulling me back to him. We started walking to my dressing room this time though.

“Oh! I mean oh… Sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, laughing at me. “No you’re not.”

“You caught me.” I bite my lip, picking at the dead skin. He lifts my chin up by a finger.

“I want to try again.” He whispers, I harshly blink at him a few times. He caught me offguard okay?

Because.. What?

I step back from him, and my nose was slightly scrunched. “Ouch. not the reaction I expected.” He says, I put my hands up trying to go back. “No, no, you just um you kind of said that out of nowhere. I just got off stage there’s just uh a lot going on in my head.” I look around, the tension in the air was building up and I was just making it more awkward.

“Right, I’m sorry.” He says, scoffing at himself. “Hey, it’s okay. Give me some time to think.” I smile, taking his face in my hands to have him look at me. His eyes go straight to my lips and then back to my eyes.

“Can I kiss you, atleast?”

I don’t even reply I just go on my tip toes and place a kiss on his lips. Not even giving me a chance to get used to it he pulls me closer by my hips.

What we didn’t see were the four boys staring at the scene in shock.

“Get a room!” Georg shouts, Bill and Gustav, roar into laughter as Tom just looked disgusted. I flipped them off, pulling back from Jace.

“I hate you guys.” I lay my head on his chest and they just make kissy noises and walk by.

So, I just want to add another thing. This will not be a love triangle. Like I said there's going to be some obstacles before you and Tom even get to mentioning your feelings. Maybe... I'm still figuring some things out. Like if I want this to have a sad or happy ending lol. Also, I don't know if I should add smut obviously later on so if you guys want to see anything let me know. It might not happen but I always want some feedback this story is for you guys but it's everything is all in my hands. ;) Sorry for not posting sooner I had work and I was just too tired to post this. I did make it on Wattpad so if you don't want to deal with how it comes out on Tumblr you can go on there. :)

Sorry this is a lot but just wanted to feed some things into here before I go. ALSO, be prepared there might be multiple chapters that will come out by and on Sunday. I'm hoping to have chapter four tomorrow night. Chapter Five on Friday, Chapter Six and maybe seven on Saturday, and then Eight, Nine, and maybe Ten on Sunday. But this is up in the air it might change if I'm too tired from work lol.

Until next time:3

#tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel #x reader

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leakyweep · 1 year ago

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Doflamingo x Reader - Nightmares

A/N: writing fluffy Doffy is difficult, but man, it is fun. @anon-germany enjoy bb :)

Warnings: just some suggestive content and maybe a small warning for nightmares/past regrets i guess

Words; 0.7k

The absence of your presence in your shared bed bothered Doflamingo, and he had a gut feeling he wouldn't have the best night's sleep with you gone. You had to stay late for work at the bar you were employed, leaving Doffy to a cold, empty bed to fall asleep in.

He had woken in the dead of night by a nightmare, his body shooting upwards anxiously and his heart beating from his chest. He was clutching his sternum, his nails digging into the flesh harshly. Red marks were left in his wake, his breaths coming out in hot, rushed pants.

He was in his head that whole day prior; thinking of his past, his family... and though many days he hid this pain and suffering deep inside that evil body, he was still haunted by his past decisions, making him wonder if they were what should have happened.

But it did happen. And he knew that there was no going back, forcing him to be the emotionless and menacing king that everyone was accustomed to. Even you had seldom seen this side of him; only once before had you seen the man agonize over his past. The next day, he'd acted as if nothing had been said, so you kept it that way. His temper was short, after all. The last thing you wanted to do was unnecessarily make the man insecure.

He shifted his body so his legs were swung over the side of the bed, his feet cushioned by the plush carpet beneath him. He looked around the room, pupils darting to the things he could make out in the dark to try and steady himself. Then, the door opened with a creak, his body tensing. He didn't wish for you to see him so vulnerable and weak, so he opted for a tight smile.

"My darling, I-"

"You don't have to talk about it, love, but I'd like for you to at least not try to act like you're okay. That smile is atrocious." You smiled softly, approaching his large figure and placing your hands on his knees. "You aren't weak for having feelings."

He just dropped his head, a scowl etched into his features. He knew you weren't a fool and cursed you silently for having the sense to know exactly what he was thinking. "Nightmare," was all he grumbled, keeping his gaze to your feet standing between his.

His teeth were gritted as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your chest. He wasn't good with words, so he opted for an action you both knew he needed. He wasn't a soft person, not even a kind one for that matter, so this whole situation was foreign to him.

"I'm here now, and I'm about to take a shower. Would you care to join to maybe... get your mind off?" you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He chuckled gently into the soft cotton of your shirt, lifting his head to rest his chin on you.

"You know I would never say no to that..." he husked, his hands that were wrapped around your sides engulfing your asscheeks and giving them a squeeze. You laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to the man's cracked lips.

As you began to get the shower ready, he approached you from behind, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"You know," he started, his fingers tracing down your curves as you were only in your undergarments, "I don't have nightmares when you're there." His tongue ran down your jugular, making a shiver run down your spine.

"Maybe because we do something else instead of sleeping..." You laughed sweetly, your hands resting on his as they engulfed your waist. He grinned and began to pull your panties down.

"I know you aren't complaining," he rasped into your ear. He would never admit it, but your presence is why he wasn't addled with bad dreams at night, not your body.

He loved your intimate moments together, but he would never forget the nights he would wake up startled and hold you until all his thoughts and senses were consumed by you. He loved to smell your hair, trace the outlines and contours of your body while you slept, unknowingly keeping the menacing and malevolent man in a state of rare peace.

“I’m definitely not complaining,” you replied, stepping into the shower, hand in hand with your love. “now come on, we have some distracting to do.”

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo #x reader #one piece #op #doffy #liv writes #fanfic

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fandomfluffandfuck · 6 months ago

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Oh I'm sorry did I hear you're taking requests again? 🤭

Cute and fluffy high school Evanstan dating, please.

Imagine teenage Chris being all goofy yet charming and Sebastian's just smitten. He laughs at everything coming out of Chris' mouth. Then he's internally like "Jesus, calm down, you're being real desperate right now" but Chris is not thinking about that at all. Because he's so smitten with Sebastian himself, and he's like giving himself a pat on the shoulder in his mind, feeling real proud for being able to make someone actually laugh this much, and, it's Sebastian of all people too. But anyway, even though they're dating, they're still crushing real hard on each other, and try to hide the majority of it (and fail miserably, whether they realize that or not). But they're just so goddamn cute.

And then bonus point: imagine them marrying each other years later. They're each other's high school sweethearts. Aw maaan (in Anthony Mackie's voice)

Ugh, that doesn't count as anon's writing okay? That was a prompt. (Only If you're interested in it, of course) I would appreciate every single word you would write about this. Thank you!

This SO easily could be made much more fantastical and movie, a-la Not Another Teen Movie with jock Chris and popular boy Sebastian

But, just like you said, I love the thought of two dorky fucking theater kids giggling together and blushing so hard when their hands brush in the hallway or having awful all-tongue kisses before either of them knows how to kiss--it makes both of them cringe, it's so bad, but that's okay, they're bad together.

Too fucking sweet!

I can think of so many different scenarios for ✨them✨

When they're crushing hard on each other but have yet to admit it because Seb is a new student in Chris' school and they have yet to really meet--they've only seen each other's faces in the hall. Then, with butterflies, Sebastian always finds himself turning around sharply, spinning on his heel in a tight circle in the hallways. He would rather be caught dead than have to face his crush and stumble through an awkward conversation or get teased by his crush.

So, Seb practically runs through crowds of students to get away from Chris with that bright, shining smile and habit of making friends with anyone and everyone--jocks, theater kids, whoever. And because of Seb's bashfulness, Chris is convinced that that shy, sweet kid who doesn't talk so much in class because the other students make fun of his softened accent doesn't like him. Chris is a little heartbroken about it, too. He tells his older sister, Carly, and his Ma about it and they brush it off lovingly, surely, he's just shy and he'll come around, you'll have a class with him eventually and learn his name and talk to him. It'll work out.

It does work out.

After a first semester of evasion on Sebastian's part and hopeful intrigue on Chris', they end up in the same theater class together, same period, same teacher despite being in different years. Huh, Sebastian is a year younger than him. Chris didn't suspect that, but, hey, now the baby face makes more sense. Either way, suddenly, not only are they in the same class, now they're also playing silly theater games together, breaking the ice and laughing and bonding over the arts.

Chris learns, captivated by the other boy as he speaks, his voice soft and sweet with a lilt that flows over the syllables in a way that Chris has never heard before but is immediately obsessed with, that Sebastian is from Romania, lived in Germany for a short time, for an even shorter time was in New York City, and then came with his Mom (and probable, soon-to-be step-father) to Massachusetts. He's here. And, when Chris eggs him on and gets his mouth running, Chris also learns that for a while, Sebastian thought he should find a new name. An American name. He considered the name Chris.

Chris laughs because what are the odds? But he wishes he didn't because in an instant, Sebastian's smile dims and he grows quiet, unsure of his welcome. To apologize, Chris reaches out, setting his hand on his shoulder, and says so, "I'm sorry," he fumbles, "I just thought it was funny because then we'd have the same name. How funny would that be, dude? Hi, what's you're name? Chris. Oh, well, me too. Nice to meet you, Chris, I'm Chris." Chris finds his heart beating a little too fast, rambunctious as he does a voice for himself and for Sebastian, trying to cheer him up.

It works.

Sebastian laughs and, oh my god, Chris' whole world frickin' lights up. He's pretty sure he's in love. He's only ever felt so light and entranced the first time he saw a movie with Sandra Bullock or, god, Elisabeth Shue.

Keep it together, my guy, Chris shouts at himself in his head, his mind's eye suddenly awash with the incredibly uncool posters he has on his bedroom walls. A big, like, huge poster of Sandy and a smaller one of Elisabeth push a few run-of-the-mill posters of surfers and snowboarders that were too boyish for Carly to want out of her teen magazines. He needs to do something about those. He needs to be cooler. He needs Sebastian to like him. Ugh! not to mention the stuffed animals he still has. Some of them even sit on the side of his bed, their backs against the wall. He doesn't sleep with a teddy bear (technically), but they do sit there when he sleeps and sometimes he rolls over on top of them and crushes them in his sleep which makes him feel bad later even though he knows they can't feel it, they're not sentient, and--

Tighten up, c'mon, Chris urges himself, talking to himself in his head once more. He can't be spiraling out with this guy in front of him! He's trying to make conversation. He's trying to be cool.

Or... nevermind because their teacher interrupts any other chance of conversation with the next exercise.

After that first quick conversation, the boys are paired together more. Each time, they learn more about each other and, unbeknownst to the other, they hold tightly onto the information, willing themselves not to forget it so the next time they talk they don't stumble quite so hard.

Once, Chris is out with his Ma and siblings grocery shopping and he's interrupted in a not-so-serious argument with Scott about something that he can't even be bothered to remember when he hears--

"Uh, hi?"

Chris spins around and finds his face breaking into a surely dorky grin because Sebastian, it's Sebastian calling his name, unsure of himself, clearly, but confident enough to approach him and say hello and Chris might almost clobber him going in for a hug when Sebastian reaches for a handshake.

"Dude!" Chris says, pulling back to admire see his smile. He's wearing basketball shorts and a NASA sweatshirt, both bigger than he is, hanging off of him like hand-me-downs but Sebastian doesn't have any siblings so Chris wonders if they're his or his soon-to-be step-father's. Maybe. Maybe his mom still buys his clothes and insists that he can grow into them.

It's only when they're staring at each other, unsure of what to say, that Chris notices Sebastian's hair is wet and curling messily like he took a shower before spontaneously appearing in this grocery store on a Wednesday evening.

Sebastian is the one to break their silence, he also is the first one to get out of Chris' Evans'-typical-octopus-hold--what can he say, he's a hugger like his Ma--stepping back and going, "y'know, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing so many bananas."

Chris is red.

Chris is thinking about bananas in a very, very inappropriate way. What could he possibly be talking about?

Sebastian, he notices, is turning red, too, but probably for very different reasons. Maybe. But he is definitely doing that thing he does when he's unsure of his place and his mouth is suddenly running away from him, talking about how in Romania and even to some extent in Vienna, there were never any bananas and little to no fresh fruit of any kind because of... of, y'know, he makes sure to look around before whispering communism.

Chris doesn't know much of anything about communism, just what they talked about in history with the Cold War so he just nods and tells Sebastian that he better buy a whole bunch then. Miracle of miracle, that makes Sebastian laugh. He confesses, turning his head and putting a hand over the side of his mouth so it's just the two of them--just Sebastian's warm breath on Chris' face, he's actually kind of sick of bananas now because of how many he ate when he first arrived in the U.S. Chris isn't sure if he's supposed to laugh or not, it doesn't seem super funny, it's a little more sad, but he laughs because Sebastian is telling him so theatrically that it must be a joke to him.

Sebastian gives him a secret smile, his hand still up to his mouth, and then scurries away to a disembodied voice just a few isles over, someone calling his name, heavily accented and musical, See-bass-tea-an. Chris lets it echo in his head and then tries it on his tongue, pronouncing the other's name the way it was intended, quiet, just to himself. See-bass-tea-an. That must be his Mom, calling for him, wondering where he wandered off to. And... right.

Yeah.

Chris should go back to his family, too, despite the stars circling his head like a cartoon character that's been hit with a mallet and is now wandering around in circles. Maybe it isn't love because Chris doesn't feel like this when he sees his favorite actresses on screen, this is... different. More intense. Definitely different. Maybe love. He stumbles back to Scott to half-heartedly, playfully shove him as the argument starts again.

They keep bumping into each other, talking in class but also in the hallways and at lunch. Sebastian starts sitting with Chris and his friends and it's great, the school year starts to fly by, until...

Everyone has been cast for the theatre department's third production of the year. Auditions are over, lines are being memorized, and rehearsals are underway. Chris was lucky enough to get the lead boy role and, on top of that luck, Sebastian was cast, too! So, now, they get to spend even more time together and it's great. Again, until...

The lead girl is out sick.

Nothing serious, just an unseasonal bout of the flu. It's nearly spring and it doesn't make sense but Chris would rather she stay home and rest rather than run herself into the ground before opening night is even here. Plus, this way, they don't have to practice kissing in rehearsals (which will never not be nerve-wracking) and Chris doesn't have to get sick himself, swapping spit. The only bad thing is that it means Chris is running lines by himself, making stupid, big gestures alone on stage (the teacher is running emergency runner-up auditions, just in case the lead girl misses more practice), pretending to grab a non-existent girl's waist and dip her to kiss her.

*Non-existent* and a *girl's waist* until someone shoves Sebastian out of the dark backstage where he had been waiting for his next cue as they do the run-through.

There he is, stumbling out into the light on colt-ish legs and suddenly Chris is bold enough, heart racing in his chest--encouraged by the voices of his Ma and sister and friends--to grab Sebastian and do the scene with him. Sebastian doesn't know his lines, and he's giggling because of it, but it doesn't matter. He's watched Chris do it enough to know when to react and how to move, swaying with him, gasping when he needs to. And Chris, just, does it.

Chris kisses Sebastian.

In the middle of the stage, standing in a blinding, sweltering spotlight, just as himself and not as his character, Chris kisses Sebastian's soft lips and, holy fuck, Sebastian is kissing him back.

Chris doesn't know what to do. He didn't think this far. He... he dips Sebastian like he was supposed to dip the girl but he doesn't kiss him as he dips him, feeling Sebastian scramble to hold onto him, afraid of falling. Instead, Chris whispers, their lips still brushing, "there's a spring dance in a few weeks, would you come with me?"

Sebastian's eyes flutter open and stretch wide, processing his question. Chris has never seen such a pretty, glittering color as what's entrapped in his eyes--they're blue, grey, almost green in the stage lighting. Absolutely mesmerizing.

His fingers dig tighter into his shoulders as Chris lifts them both back up to standing, "r-really?" Sebastian asks, his voice soft. The words are just for them. Not the characters they're playing. "Like, as your date? Not just because we're friends?"

Chris nods, confirming, "as a date."

Sebastian's verifiably soft lips split into a dazzling grin, kittenish and heart-stopping, "okay."

"Okay," Chris echoes, stuck in the magic of the moment. This feels like a movie, standing center stage where the boy gets the g--boy.

The boy gets the boy.

"Gentleman," their teacher claps her hands together once from the auditorium seating, shocking them both, leaving them to slide apart, a scant few inches between them, "that's enough goofing around." She twirls her finger in a circle, her voice gentle but without room for argument, "let's run it from the top."

Before Seb is whisked off the stage by a few of their mutual friends laughing and mostly quietly hollering, oooohing like middle schoolers rather than the high schoolers they are, he shoots Chris another one of those secret smiles and, god, Chris has forgotten every single one of his lines.

Do NOT get me started on the sheer amount of teasing that would happen if they did get married eventually, or just were long, long-term boyfriends and then were in Marvel and met Mackie. The jokes. Too much. I would love that.

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #chris evans #sebastian stan #evanstan #rpf #real person fanfiction

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papers-pamphlet · 4 months ago

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The long awaited (?) Claudia lore (and, who is Josephine von Segensfeld ??? What went down in Germany ??? 🤨🤨)

Shit guys I've been letting all this fester in my head for so long but now that I finally posted that comic I can finally dump it all here yipeeeee

Okay so first off, Claudia. Well, to begin we should start with her father and his born family. Leone Difiori was born of a wealthy noble family in Italy, but was kicked out and disowned for "incompetence" among many other reasons. In other words, he's kinda stupid.

He married a commoner woman to gain some sort of standing. Then, Claudia was born the first of five children. Things were looking hopeless though, Leone worked tirelessly every day and it really wasn't going anywhere.

Then, both mother and father came to the idea --- have Claudia marry to a rich family once she grows up ! And then she'll rescue us from poverty ! So, they raised her just for that.

Despite growing up with such pressure, Claudia couldn't refuse it. She had no reason to resent her parents for anything, her father was a bit of an idiot, but he was trying, and her mother was so sweet and pitiful. She felt it her obligation to marry a man, be a good wife, and help her family.

Once Claudia grew up, her father began his game plan for marrying his daughter off. He then began correspondence with the Segensfeld family in Germany (using his former nobility standing to his advantage and not revealing that he was utterly broke and disowned.)

So the father of the Segensfelds gave him the okay, and so Claudia's father had brought her along with him to Germany for an arranged marriage !

Now let's talk a little more about Josephine von Segensfeld .

As previously stated, Josephine grew up very freely. She was the youngest and her father spoiled her and let her do as she pleased without much pressure on her. (It is here that I realize that Josephine is kinda the polar opposite of Joseph Hayes and that was completely unintentional but still hilarious 😭😭)

She was pretty. Many men tried to take her hand in marriage, she refused. A few times her family tried to arrange marriage for her, she threw a hissy fit and they never spoke of it again. (Girl is a lesbian woah)

The day the Difioris arrive at the Segensfeld manor, she's immediately interested in the daughter because she's pretty. The Difioris stay as guests in the manor while they discuss the arrangements. During that, Josephine makes her first move and gains Claudia's friendship.

So almost immediately, Leone is found out as a fraud and was about to be kicked out of the manor by the father until Josephine pleaded to him for them to stay because she likes Claudia so much 🥺🥺 "father pleaseeeee the daughter is so sweetttttt would you allow at least her to stay ????? 🥺🥺🥺"

Never being able to refuse his daughter, he accepted and lent the Difioris some money for them to get an apartment to stay.

Often Josephine would send for Claudia to visit the manor and they would simply spend time together doing normal friendly things. And then one day during a party, Josephine not being able to keep it in anymore, makes the first move and kisses her while they were alone.

Claudia, despite knowing how "unnatural" it is, goes alone with it. She's not sure why.

So . Things happen and they begin to regularly have this explicit love affair -- but it's still completely undefined to the both of them.

Josephine is smitten hard. She spent so much time with her, gave her so many gifts (even had a certain miniature portrait of Claudia painted so that she would be able to see her likeness wherever she went) and so was Claudia, but she couldn't understand that for her mind was too wired to that mindset she was raised with.

Eventually Claudia had to remember what her purpose was -- she couldn't keep this up any longer. It was unnatural (no matter how much she enjoyed it -- enjoyed Josephine's company and affection), she had to be with a man. These feelings couldn't be real, no? It can't be.

One day, another gathering is hosted at the manor and Claudia goes to Josephine in her room to tell her it's over. The noble was completely livid over this. How could she break it off after all this ??? (She couldn't understand why Claudia was so deep in self-denial for she didn't know what it was like) So they have this big argument and Claudia ends up storming out. Both were angry, crying and bitter.

And then, Giles found Claudia. They marry. Some years later Leone dies of illness, her siblings grow up and get good enough jobs to support her mother. What was even the point ?

During the war, Giles' absence... Claudia had been receiving letters from Josephine once more. She tried to ignore them. Burn them, even. But she was just so lonely. (And she had to see her again eventually.)

Her judgement is poor and Josephine sails to England and visits Claudia this time. What happens is almost a repeat of last time. Nothing would change unless Claudia would just stop lying to herself.

@steph-schuyler @hamalicious-soup @lil-gae-disaster @marsfingershurt @imobsessedwiththeatre

#man #amrev #amrev oc #redcoat alexander au #claudia eleison #josephine von segensfeld #clausephine

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bi-lavelent · 6 months ago

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Lone wolf (Quinn fabray x fem-reader)

Warning: fluff, bullying, angst

My family was an immigrant family from Italy. My sister and me were the only American citizen in my family. We were also the only two who could speak English fluently. My dad was on a work visa from Germany and my mom was on a work visa from Italy.

I had always made it through school without being noticed. All I wanted to do was make it through the four years of high school. Living in Lima, Ohio is never easy. Especially when I didn’t have any friends. My home life wasn’t easy my family struggled a lot with money. We would live paycheck to paycheck. My mom had issues with what my father said was shopping. But it was really an addiction to drugs and drinking. I tried to never be a burden to anyone. I just tried making it out of high school which was never gonna happen I had several failed classes that I needed to catch up on and pass. I didn’t know if I would be making it out of fucking Lima Ohio. I didn’t even know if I wanted to graduate. There’s several jobs that don’t need me to graduate or my dad’s boss had dropped out of high school and made himself a million dollar business.

On the other hand my sister was a Cheerio. She was popular. She was dating a football player Matt Rutherford. She was friends with the unholy trinity although she was a year younger than them. They accepted her and treated her like a little sister. Her and Matt met last year when he was a freshman and she was an 8th grader. She was at cheerleading camp and performed at one of the games. She seemed to be the perfect kid straight A’s and just all together Straight. Unlike me who was a raging Lesbian loner with tattoos and piercings.

It was the first day of my senior year. As I got dressed in a leather crop top, a leather skirt and a heavy leather jacket. I ran across the hallway to wake up my sister. I sat on her bed and shook her.

“Hope! It’s time to wake up.” I told her

“Ugh… do I have too.” She pleaded

“Yes, come on we both are in the only two years of highschool that are good.” I replied “we have to leave in 30 minutes. I’m gonna run down the street to the convenient store and grab us some breakfast. Well you put your make up on.”

I ran down to the convenient store and picked us both up some donuts and got us some milk (choose whatever milk you like or change it if your lactose intolerant) I got myself a strawberry banana milk and my sister some chocolate. I went up to the counter to pay. I headed back to the car and went back home to grab my sister. She was already outside waiting for me. As I drove her to school we sang along to the radio. We had a twenty minute drive to school so we sang everything from AC/DCs Thunderstruck to Bon Jovi’s You give love a bad name. But as soon as we arrived at school she had me drop her off a block away so that she would not be seen with me. I drove into the senior lot almost hitting a couple of Jocks throwing kids into a dumpster.

I kept my head down all day like usual. Until I got cornered in the library by my Spanish teacher after school well I was studying. Well I was actually waiting for my sister. I was excepting that he wanted to talk to me about Spanish. But instead he showed me a video of me in middle school singing in my choir. He asked me if I would join his stupid glee club. I said no of course. Why would I join a stupid club let alone the glee club. I was walking out the school when I saw some kids in the choir room singing and what apparently they think is dancing. I stopped and stood there for a second before a girl with a really big smile waved at me. God I hated happy people I walked away and got in my car and drove a block away to pick my sister up.

“How was cheer practice?” I asked her

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t talk to losers like you.” She told me

“Okay, Lupa.” I said

“Verliererin”she said

(Translate) Lupa: Bitch (Italian)

Verliererin: Loser (German)

I got home and went to bed. There was no point in staying up the only thing that it would lead to is me getting yelled at but of course I still got yelled out.

Our mother came storming into my room at 1:00am screaming at me. “ (Nessuno ti amerà mai né si prenderà cura di te. Sei una puttana e una stronza, sei fortunato che lascio vivere a casa mia anche un frocio come te. So solo che sei facile da battere.) Nobody will ever love you or care about you. You’re a whore and a cunt you’re lucky I’m even letting a fag like you live in my home. I just know that you’re easy to beat.”

As she left my bedroom I heard her go upstairs and go to her room. I went upstairs and went out to my car I just went for a drive to see how far I could get. I didn’t stop driving til I got tired. At that point I had Passed the border I wasn’t sure what direction I was going in. But I had hit Michigan at some point a couple hours ago. It was way past the start of school but I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t get what my mom said out of my head. It hurt so much I knew that she didn’t like me but I did not think that she would say it to my face. I got a text from Matt saying that he had brought my sister to school.

I had stayed away for a couple days staying at a hotel. Well I was staying there one day I was exploring and I discovered that there was a good lesbian bar that was near by the hotel. I didn’t drink much but I met some people that were like me and it felt good for the first time in along time.

When I came back I drove into the senior lot I didn’t attend much of my classes I attended my history class and spent the rest of the time in the only place that I never get interrupted the auditorium. I don’t why but it was always the place that I felt the safest. I looked up when I heard talking I saw those group of kids from the choir room a football player. I think his name was Fish I have no clue I wasn’t paying attention when Matt introduced them to me and my sister. When they started singing I heard the happiness in their voice. It sounded like the really wanted to be there. I looked up to see Mr. Schue standing next to me also watching them. He said some shit I guess he was gonna leave (which wouldn’t be the worse thing) I don’t even think he knows Spanish.

Why was I so happy in that moment. Maybe it was cause I was seeing a group of kids who the world hadn’t damaged yet. Just having fun maybe I realized …

#quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray x reader #glee x reader #glee #pathetic loser #biker babe #biker girl #lesbain #diana agron #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez imagine #santana lopez #queer

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sissylittlefeather · 5 months ago

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Let's Forget About the Stars: Chapter 8

A/N: It's almost wedding time for these two lovebirds! But not quite yet... please enjoy this next installment for Dovey and her Jumbee.

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing

Word count: ~2.2k

Two more weeks. And then she'll really be his forever.

******

Dove stays in California for a week with Elvis while he films King Creole. She watches him on set and swells with pride every time. He's so good.

At the end of each filming day, Elvis and Dove tumble into his trailer or back to his hotel where they share as many intimate moments as possible between two virgins. They get increasingly more desperate as the week goes on, but they don't go too far. Now she knows they're waiting for their wedding night and she reminds him of this fact whenever he gets a little too frisky.

After the week, Dove heads back to Memphis to put the final touches on the wedding plans. Between being busy, Dove misses Elvis like crazy. She's ready for him to be home and for them to be back together for the long term. No one is sure what will happen when he leaves for basic training and then for Germany, but at least then she'll know that he's hers.

Finally, the day before the wedding comes and Elvis is home. He sits on the couch while the women flit around him with last minute details. Whenever Dove passes him, he snatches her and pulls her down into his lap, peppering her with kisses. He's missed her so much while he's been gone that he can barely keep his hands off of her. She giggles and lets him kiss her until her mother or Gladys calls for her again. He groans when she gets up, dying to carry her up the stairs and have his way with her, but he doesn't. Instead, he watches her hips as she walks away and dreams about what the next day and night will hold.

Dove's whole family is in town, so they all come over for a lively dinner in the dining room at Graceland. Everyone has a good time laughing and visiting, but Elvis and Dove are about to burst with desire for each other. The nearness of their wedding night has them both worked up and the tension between them is palpable. At dinner, her hand rests on his thigh and the temptation to run it up to his dick is almost overwhelming. He tries to keep his breath even, but all he can think about is her pretty little mouth around his cock. She squeezes his thigh gently and he inhales sharply. He chances a glance over at Dove as she puts a bite in her mouth. She slides the fork out from between her lips slowly and he almost moans out loud.

"Isn't that right, Elvis?" His mother tries to get his attention and he shakes his head a little, trying to figure out what she's talking about. There's an awkward silence as Elvis smiles uncomfortably. "Don't you think this is the best film you've made so far?"

"Oh! Yes. I think this one is gonna be really good. I'm enjoyin' it." The conversation continues and Elvis breathes a sigh of relief and adjusts his pants around his rock hard erection. Dove whispers to him.

"You alright, Jumbee?" He nods.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

"You seem a little... uncomfortable." Her eyes drift down to his lap, where he has his napkin trying to cover himself, but she knows he's hard.

"Oh, no, honey, I'm..." He drops his voice, looks around to make sure everyone is occupied, and then leans in and whispers in her ear. "Dovey, I want you so bad I feel like I'm about to bust right here at this table."

She takes a deep breath and looks around, a fake smile on her face. Then, she whispers in his ear, inching her hand up his thigh a little.

"God, Jumbee, I thought I was the only one dyin'. I can't stop thinking about your hands and your mouth..." He lets out the softest groan and closes his eyes for a millisecond.

"How are we gonna be good tonight?"

"Well, you're staying in the guest room, right?" He nods. They agreed to sleep in separate beds for the night before the wedding. "We'll be fine. Just... don't think about it..."

He laughs softly and pulls back to look her in the eye.

"Hey! You two aren't married yet. How about you join the rest of us here in the room?" Dove's father remarks with an amused look on his face. The two young people swiftly turn back to the table and blush.

"Sorry, daddy."

"Yeah, we're sorry, sir." Dove's father laughs.

"Save it for tomorrow night."

"Save what?" Dove's youngest brother asks and all of the adults laugh. Elvis takes Dove's hand and they finish the rest of the meal like this, him trying to eat with his left hand so he can keep hers from wandering.

******

Eventually, everyone settles in to go to bed and Dove's family heads back to the hotel. Elvis has moved his things for the wedding into the extra bedroom that shares a bathroom with their room. Dove changes into pajamas and sits on the bed. She needs to brush her teeth, but she can't stop thinking about Elvis and his erection at dinner. Shaking her head, she stands up and walks into the bathroom. Elvis looks up from his sink. He's already in there brushing his teeth. She walks to her sink and starts, actively trying to ignore him. He finishes and stands there watching her as she rinses and spits and puts her toothbrush back. They stare at each other awkwardly for a bit.

"I miss you, honey."

"Elvis, we've been together all day."

"Yeah, but you know what I mean." She smiles and looks down at his dick where it presses against his pajama pants. He holds his hands out to show he's harmless. "I just wanna kiss ya, baby. Please?"

She walks over to him and melts into his arms as he bends down and kisses her deeply. She whispers against his lips.

"Last kiss before the wedding." His hands roam over her body and one drifts down to her center.

"I wanna make you cum, honey." She smiles into his kiss.

"We're getting married tomorrow."

"I know... please?" He starts to rub his finger over her clit and she whimpers.

"Oh... I guess one won't hurt..." He smiles and gets down on his knees excitedly. She moans softly as he slides her shorts and panties down her legs, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs. She leans back against the counter as he finds her center with his tongue, dragging it over and around her sensitive bud. "Yes, Jumbee. It's so good."

She throws her head back as he works his mouth on her. He licks up each side and then presses his tongue into her slit. Her hands go to his hair as he moves his mouth. He sucks lightly on her clit and then moans into her.

"God, baby, I'll never get enough of how you taste."

"Don't stop! I'm so close!" He smiles again and slides first one and then two fingers up into her. He's just recently been able to manage two fingers inside her, but he thinks it's probably good to get her used to something bigger since they'll be making love in less than 24 hours. She moans and arches her back against the counter as he does.

"Cum for me, baby." She slides her feet apart, spreading her legs a little more as he works between her thighs. Her orgasm is so close she feels like she might explode. He curls his fingers in a come here motion and licks across her clit deeply and that's all it takes. She tumbles headfirst into a wave of intense pleasure, her legs shaking as the tingling electricity rushes through her veins.

"Oh, oh Elvis, yes!" She moans as she cums hard in his mouth. He slides his fingers out and licks her fervently through her orgasm until she finally starts to come back down. His tongue presses into her slit a couple more times before he licks up the front and then pulls back, standing up and wiping his face with his hand. He rolls his hips and hardened cock against her as she moans.

"God, baby, I've never wanted anyone the way I want you right now. I don't know if I can wait any longer." He rubs against her over and over, giving himself the friction he needs to feel his orgasm start to form at the base of his dick. The tension from dinner has pushed him to the edge already. She puts her hands on his hips and pushes him away, sinking to her knees in front of him. He moans as she pulls his pants down just enough to let his cock bounce free. She runs her tongue around the tip of him and begins to pump him with her hand. In the time since the first blowjob, she's learned how to open her throat and push him in as far as he'll go. When she does, he damn near falls over.

"Fuck... Dovey..."

He tangles his hands in her hair and begins to softly thrust into her mouth. He's dying to fill her throat with cum, and she's doing her best to get him there. She licks over the top of his head again, tasting the precum that's gathered there.

"You want me to swallow it?"

"Yes, god yes baby. That feels so good." She nods and bobs up and down on him a few more times before he leans his head back and moans. He's so close and she's not slowing down.

"Baby, I'm gonna... oh!" He cries out breathlessly as he cums into her mouth, shuddering his hips against her, and she swallows every drop of it, sucking him lightly. She licks up the bottom of his shaft as he's still a little hard and he gasps and moans. "Baby, don't get me started again or I will take you right here, right now, and make you mine."

"God, I need it so bad, Jumbee." She stands up and snuggles into his chest. Elvis looks at the clock on the wall. It's after midnight.

"Can you hold on until tonight? You're killin' me Dovey. We only have a few hours left." He presses his lips gently to her forehead and she nods.

"We can do this, baby. Only one more day." She squeezes him tightly and he wraps his arms around her.

They're not sure how it happens, but they end up cuddled together on the bathroom rug, fast asleep.

******

"Dove, are you awake?" Elvis and Dove scramble up and run back to their respective bedrooms when her mother knocks on her door. Elvis hollers over his shoulder as he runs out of the bathroom.

"I love you, Dovey! I'll see you later!"

"Don't look at me! And I love you too!" Dove whisper-yells in response. She makes it into her bed just as her mother opens the door and she pretends to just be waking up.

"Oh, good morning mama."

"Good. We were afraid Elvis had snuck in here to sleep with you."

"Oh... no, he didn't sleep in here." It's not a lie. Her mother has her dress draped over her arm and Dove looks at it softly. It's almost time.

Elvis stands in his own room stretching and trying to work the pain out of his shoulders from sleeping on the floor. He sees his suit hanging on the door and smiles. Today is the day.

******

Most of the day passes in a flurry of excitement as everyone gets ready. Dove is mostly confined to their bedroom with people flitting in and out as she does her hair and makeup and gets dressed. Just before she's supposed to go get in the car to go to the church, though, she sits in there alone waiting to be told she can leave the room. Everything has been carefully orchestrated so that she doesn't accidentally run into Elvis in the hallway. She's looking at herself in the mirror when there's a soft knock on the door.

"Dovey?"

"Elvis? Don't come in!" Her heart jumps in panic and she looks for a place to hide.

"I won't, baby. Just... come over to the door." She walks to the door and he cracks it and slips his hand inside. "Take my hand, honey. I wanna do something before we go to the church."

"Okay..." She takes his hand and, without thinking, kisses his knuckles. He sighs softly at the feeling of her lips on his skin.

"Alright, close your eyes."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna pray for us." Her breath catches and a lump forms in her throat as he begins to pray. It takes everything in her not to cry through the whole thing. When he gets to the end, he squeezes her hand. "Amen... I love you, Dovey."

"I love you too, Jumbee."

"I'll see you at the altar, okay?"

"Okay."

"Remember: it's just you and me and God today, baby. Nothing else matters." He squeezes her hand again and then lets go, pulling his back through the door. She hears someone holler for him from downstairs. He yells back that he's coming and then his footsteps move down the hallway. Dove's heart is so full of love for him that she feels like it might explode. A few more minutes pass and her mom opens the door.

"It's time. Are you ready?" Dove takes a deep breath.

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life."

******

Time for wedding bells!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

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