#this has been going on my entire life. what's mine is theirs but what's theirs is theirs only & i'm greedy if i ask for some

[pa-pa-plasma]

typo in the title orz it's supposed to be "if you ask someone if you can have their food & they say no, do you:"

[transformers-spike]

"Cybertronians reacting to getting kissed", in which kissing is not something cybertronians do as an act of affection, so they're completely new to the human concept of kissing to express romantic love. Talk me one Knock Out who is so versed in wooing but doesn't know two shits about human kissing, and finding himself kissed for the first time. Or Starscream who's gonna freak out. Or Megatron who doesn't even know why you're smashing your intake against his

This is such a good question, anon, I've been rotating it in my head for a while now

Knock Out is well-versed in the drag and frag technique. He���s probably one of the youngest members on the Nemesis, still old as balls by our standards, but some rebellious youngin’ by theirs. He’s all about sliding in with a smooth pickup line and buttering you up until he reaches the “let’s get down to business” level, where he starts flashing his biolights in a “come hither and frag me” display. When it comes to human kissing, he’s… improvising to say the least. He’s seen humans make out in a wide variety of drive-through horror movies (many with questionable acting), and while he doesn’t “get” why we do it, he does his best to lean into the act and find what makes it so pleasurable by our standards. When you do kiss him for the first time, he’s already been hyping himself up for months, and whatever smoothness he tries to apply immediately disintegrates because oh fuck, your lips are so small and he has so much to give. He’s absolutely suffering despite the confident front he’s putting up. After fumbling the bag, he’ll ask you how he did. “Mid,” you’re tempted to say. But the hopefulness behind those smug optics stops you in your tracks. Starscream must have had a very confusing interface life even by Cybertronian standards. But there’s no way he didn’t get frisky back when he was Air Commander of Vos, even if the workload was immense. Although that’s probably the most action he got in his entire life, and even then the closest equivalent to “kissing” by their standards is merging EM fields and hoping for the best, a careful manipulation of wavelengths to fall into perfect sync. We humans do not possess a hyper-developed EM field, which is enraging for Starscream because what do you mean you smash intakes??? Mass-displaced or not, the only fluids he accepts in his intake are energon and transfluid, thank you very much. Kissing is a bad idea, and you’ve learned it the hard way, so good job! Now you have to deal with his drama queen ass acting like you just spit in his mouth. Worst thing is, he is interested in trying it again, but with his stipulations (aka watching him fail to figure out how to kiss you). He doesn’t even fail in a funny way, he’s so bad it’s concerning, you’re half tempted to contact Knock Out and blackmail him into sending you Starscream’s medical file.

Megatron was… surprisingly abstinent back on Cybertron. Yes, he’s been around for a long time. Yes, he used to be a gladiator at some point. And yes, it had its perks, but he was always more of a “sensitive spark” than a typical casanova. He had more important things to focus on at the time (mainly surviving the pits of Kaon and, before that, not offlining in a freak mining accident). Honestly, who knows what he did as a politician, whatever freakiness he had going on while trying to depose the government is none of our business and I am totally not typing this with a fusion cannon to my head.

He’s been through so much; fought countless beasts and fellow gladiators, avoided assassination attempts and blood-thirsty mutinies while leading a millennia-long war. Nothing can surprise him anymore. Yes, you’re a weird little freak for smashing intakes with him, but you need not fear for your safety. He’s… intrigued by your display of affection. You can mumble excuses all you want, but you’ve smashed intakes with him and it can’t be undone. Watch out for those sharp teeth and prepare a tetanus shot just in case. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions whether you like it or not, especially when he’s got a claw under your shirt and another down your pants. Your lips are bleeding and you pray it’s an accident, if he gets a taste for human blood you’re done for.

[cutielando]

celebrations are in order | m.v.

social media au

synopsis: in which you make the most of his third wdc

my masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 3,291,483 others

yourusername feels so good being back at the paddock tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 857,313 comments

maxverstappen1 out of all the pictures you took of me...

yourusername i love these

maxverstappen1 of course you do

redbullracing Glad to have you back, Y/N!

francisca.cgomes MY WIFE BACK IN THE PADDOCK ❤️❤️

yourusername i missed you sooooooo much !!! ❤️❤️

lilymhe GIRL LUNCH !!!!!!

user1 THE PEOPLE'S WAG IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK

user2 all is well when Y/N is in the garage😩😩

alex_albon max will finally be in a good mood

maxverstappen1 i can read these, you know

yourusername that's why i'm here. we're all tired of moody max😔

maxverstappen1 I CAN READ THESE

user3 our good luck charm has arrived ❤️❤️

user4 like he needs a good luck charm to dominate the entire grid🥲

landonorris what took you so long?

yourusername some people have a life, you know?

landonorris not when you're involved in f1 they don't

yourusername you're lucky i like you, otherwise you would have received a rant 😠

maxverstappen1 i've received one. trust me mate, you don't want to be on the receiving end

yourbff still sad you didn't take me with you 😔

yourusername you are literally on the other side of the globe⁉️

yourbff i don't see your point

yourusername maxverstappen1 help me out here

maxverstappen1 i'm not getting between you two again

user5 Y/N, do you think Max will win the championship after this race?

yourusername i am keeping my fingers crossed, he has had an incredible season and i think he's going to do everything in his power to end it on a high🫶🏻

user4 so well said

user6 Y/N being there for his Championship title win >>>>

user7 i want a relationship like theirs:(((((

user8 if they ever break up, i'm going to stop believing in love😭

charles_leclerc it's nice to have you back, y/n. haven't seen you in a while

yourusername it feels so good to be back. life has been kicking my ass but I'M BACK BITCHES

carlossainz55 FORZA FERRARI

yourusername wow, too much dude...

charles_leclerc ...

maxverstappen1 ...

carlossainz55 ...sorry...

victoriaverstappen i've missed you so much!!!! so glad to have you back, the boys are excited to see auntie Y/N!!❤️❤️❤️

yourusername i can't wait to see my favorite little munchkins ❤️❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 what about me?

yourusername i’m sorry, babe. you can’t compete with lio and luka for this one

victoriaverstappen you could never compete with them

maxverstappen1 wow, betrayed by my own blood..

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 5,391,584 others

maxverstappen1 I cannot thank everyone enough. Being on this journey, achieving what we have achieved together this season has been incredible. A massive thank you to the team and for everything they do for us, a shoutout to my family for always supporting me and a special thanks to my Y/N. I couldn't have done any of this without you, I love you.❤️ tagged: redbullracing and yourusername

view all 958,251 comments

yourusername watching you race and do what you love is my favorite thing. i'm proud of you beyond words and i can't wait to see what you do in the future. i love you so much❤️🫶🏻

maxverstappen1 thank you for being you🩵

redbullracing You are one of a kind, Max. Seeing you go down in history books right before our eyes is the biggest privilege. Let's finish the season on a high together and look forward to next year!💙 liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername

landonorris well done, mate. the y/n effect was obvious

maxverstappen1 thanks mate

yourusername you're just jealous i didn't cheer you on as loudly

landonorris i'm deeply hurt, actually

maxverstappen1 dude, get your own cheerleader and stop trying to steal mine

yourusername boys, don’t worry, you know i support everyone almost equally

landonorris almost?

yourusername i’ll always be a redbull girlie at heart

schecoperez let's go!!! liked by maxverstappen1

user1 he did it for Y/N i'm sobbing😭😭😭

user2 UNSTOPPABLE MAX STRIKES ONCE AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻👏👏👏👏🩵

user3 the tribute to Y/N had me in tears >>>>>>>>>>>

user4 they are such a power couple😩😩😩💙

user5 the season was boring, max is taking all the fun out of the sport by winning all the damn time💀

yourusername he deserves every single win that he gets, he's good. if you believe the sport is boring, don't watch it. stop hating on drivers just because they are successful, you have no idea what it's like to be in their shoes

user2 PERIOD👏👏👏

user1 QUEEN ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS👸🫶🏻

user3 YOU TELL THEM Y/N

victoriaverstappen we're so proud of you, Max. you're truly one of a kind🩵

maxverstappen1 i love you guys❤️

yourusername you guys are making me cry😭😭

maxverstappen1 baby, you literally just stopped crying a minute ago

yourusername I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY⁉️⁉️

alex_albon max once again making all of us look bad

maxverstappen1 i’m sorry man

yourusername you don’t need his help for that

alex_albon ouch

user9 BABABAHAHQHQHQHQ Y/N WAS SUCH A SAVAGE FOR THIS HAHAHAHA

georgerussell63 party tonight?

maxverstappen1 you know it

yourusername brave yourselves

christianhorner always a pleasure watching you work your magic, Max 👏

maxverstappen1 thank you, christian. your support means very much to me

yourusername awww, you’re like father and son🥹🥹

christianhorner we might as well just adopt him

gerihalliwellhorner 2 kids isn’t enough for you?

christianhorner no

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 3,194,853 others

yourusername words cannot begin to describe the pride i feel when i look at this man. Max, the things you have achieved have completely made me fall in love with you all over again. your dedication, your talent and your craft are a delight to experience and i can't be more grateful to be the one you share life with. i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for you, and know that i'll be with you every single step of the way. i love you, my world champion❤️ tagged: maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 forever grateful that you exist in my life❤️i don’t know what i did to deserve you

yourusername you’re gonna make me cry again😭❤️

maxverstappen1 please don’t

yourusername too late

francisca.cgomes i have never seen you cry so much, it made me cry with you 😭😭😭❤️

yourusername i love you ❤️❤️😭😭

pierregasly what..?

maxverstappen1 don’t even ask

yourusername YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND 😭

francisca.cgomes DON’T JUDGE US 😭😭😭😭

yoursister the entire family is sending Max the biggest congratulations !!! we can’t wait to see both of you to celebrate properly ❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️we miss you guys

maxverstappen1 thank you very much !!! looking forward to celebrating with the in-laws ❤️

landonorris when did you become the simp in the relationship?

yourusername don’t you have better things to do?

landonorris not really

maxverstappen1 you should get a hobby

landonorris annoying your girlfriend is my favorite hobby🤭🤭

oscarpiastri do i have to come to the party? 🫣

yourusername yes

maxverstappen1 only if you want to, we’re getting shitfaced either way

oscarpiastri so i can not come? 🥹

yourusername you’re coming, end of story.

user1 Y/N dragging Oscar to Max’s party is the most Y/N thing ever 😂😂

user2 poor Oscar must be regretting his life choices right about now 💀

oscarpiastri i am (please send help)

user1 BABAHQHQH OSCAH😭😭

user3 you can tell how much she loves him 😭❤️❤️

user4 i’m 100% positive Max couldn’t have achieved all of this without Y/N

user5 why? she didn’t do anything to help him at all

user4 it’s not all about performance on the track, a lot of factors go into it. she’s been supporting him for a very long time and that means a lot for someone with a lifestyle like his

user3 exactly, every driver needs someone to help them disconnect from the chaos that follows them all year round during the season

alex_albon you’re such a simp

georgerussell63 simp

charles_leclerc simp

landonorris simp

oacarpiastri simp

maxfewtrell simp

yourusername MAX????

maxverstappen1 …

yourbff your boyfriend is a beast

yourusername i know 🤭 that he is, in more ways than one

maxverstappen1 you know it 😏😋

yourbff HORNY ASSES

lilymhe can’t wait to get drunk and celebrate tonight!!

yourusername you and me both girl 😅

maxverstappen1 me three

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 3,201,835 others

maxverstappen1 safe to say i remember nothing from last night tagged: yourusername and 9 others

view all 854,281 comments

yourusername it might be for the best

maxverstappen1 was i that bad?

yourusername no... 🤐

landonorris damn right you don't

maxverstappen1 what is that supposed to mean?

landonorris you downed a whole bottle of tequila in less than half an hour. by yourself.

yourusername while taking sips from my drink as well

maxverstappen1 i was thirsty, ok?

oscarpiastri i am never drinking with you again😩

maxverstappen1 what did i do?

yourusername you wanted to undress him in front of the whole club and have him play limbo with you naked

oscarpiastri you didn't have to give the details...

maxverstappen1 i would've loved to see it either way

yourusername MAX!! LEAVE OSCAR ALONE

maxverstappen1 fine...😔

oscarpiastri thank you Y/N😅

georgerussell63 my liver hates you right now

maxverstappen1 don't blame me, it's not like i poured alcohol down your throat

yourusername you did

maxverstappen1 oh..

user1 these comments are just confirming what a party animal Max is and i'm here for it 🤣🤣

user2 y/n sounds so done hahahah😭😭

alex_albon i have no words left

maxverstappen1 i'm sorry for whatever i have done to you

alex_albon we vowed never to speak of it

yourusername this discussion is over

redbullracing sigh... giving us a run for our money, aren't you? 😆

maxverstappen1 i like keeping you guys entertained

redbullracing very kind of you. don't do it again 😐

user3 did y/n not drink?

yourusername i did, but i was relatively sober so i could keep an eye on everyone haha

yourusername i love you <3 even when you're drunk and unhinged

maxverstappen1 i love you too, thank you for taking care of me ❤️

user4 y/n taking care of max >>>>>>>>

user5 i love them. 😭😭😭❤️

charles_leclerc great singing on your part

yourusername i thought we agreed we weren't gonna mention the singing...

maxverstappen1 I SANG????????????

charles_leclerc oh yes, very loudly so

maxverstappen1 yourusername never let me drink again

yourusername i couldn't stop you if i wanted to

maxverstappen1 damn.. wild night, hehe

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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[biancadoes1]

Hi. IMO I agree with long theory, anon.

I have never said this specific theory out loud in fear I was projecting my own relationship past into that narrative. However, I have experience in this specific dynamic & thought I could share some examples of why it isn't even close to delulu. If anyone is interested.

I had my best friend fall for me while he was with another woman. It happened accidentally, over time, by us becoming close & working together for 6 years. I denied it all for a long time until someone close to us both called HIM out, point blank. In real life, uncoupling without causing damage to everyone involved is extremely difficult. Maybe N didn't want to be a rebound, but also, maybe L didn't want anyone to think bad about both of them for "breaking up a relationship." Outside influences/opinions can be detrimental to a new relationship, especially when work is involved.

The idea of A, J, or even E being a decoy is extremely plausible (we had a plan to use one, too). Was it screwed up? Absolutely, but... sometimes, to be together, it has to wait to be shown to the outside world & we WEREN'T EVEN FAMOUS. So what did we do? We continued how we always did with friends & we eventually snuck around (once he broke up) to get alone time. As millennials, I wore a chain with his initial, we posted ambiguous songs, lyrics, thirst traps for each other & OMG SOMETIMES WE DIDNT LIKE each other's posts!! 🙄 Business as usual. In the year we worked together after, only ONE person noticed ONE time we flirted more than usual. Otherwise, NO ONE knew. However, if we went on that WT, I can GUARANTEE we would have been just as unhinged. This is where IMO, the body language expert (for those who watched), didn't have a full scope of their entire dynamic.

I will say, the family of it all does make it tricky & I can't speculate on theirs, but to show dynamic for understanding... Mine knew.. my sister had actually mentioned his googly eyes 2 wks before our mutual friend, but she didn't approve. My mom knew & approved. His real mom knew & was semi supportive, but his dad didn't know & wanted him to fix his relationship, which was rough. Taking family into consideration is extremely tricky, especially if there is concern on any side.

The SM postings between them all are also very telling to me, lol.. drama. Love it! & to pretend it doesn't exist is dumb. I won't go into my personal feelings on it all, but it's TELLING. Specifically, the Italy pap pics.

The truth of it all is... REAL relationships are messy AF. The jackolas are too immature to fathom a non fairytale scenario. This is why they make JD out to be so many things he is not & project their rejection onto L. Their lack of life experience is causing them to try & manipulate the narrative like the children they are. I hope they all get some life experience real soon because it's all creepy to watch. I also hope that one day, they grow enough to experience the love & admiration of a gay bestie.

Anywho, I hope yall see these theories are all very plausible for real life. Stop saying it's too delulu, please. It's not.

Thank you, long theory anon for saying all the things I wish I could. Youse the real GOAT & MVP.

No notes.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Okay, okay s/o being part of Itto's gang and Sara is constantly annoyed by the shenningans.

(Genshin Impact) Sara's S/O being part of Itto's gang

Sara regrets many things in her life. The people she wronged during the Vision Hunt Decree. The arrests she made.

And the biggest regret of all, falling in love with a dumbass of immeasurable magnitude.

Whenever they were with her alone, S/O was the sweetest person she had ever met.

They didn't care about who she was supposed to be, they loved her for her. Not as a general, or a daughter of the Kujou family, just Sara.

S/O was always so polite and courteous with her, never failing to put a smile on her face.

But the moment they were with Itto?

====

Sara had received news of a disturbance from the Arataki Gang, specifically demanding for her presence.

She showed up, ready to throw a couple of morons into a holding cell until she saw S/O alongside Itto, and 2 other members wearing-

(Sara) "By the Shogun, what the hell are you wearing?"

They were all wearing matching red and white striped uniforms, with fake mustaches and straw hats.

(S/O) "Back me up boys!" ahem "I may not always love youuuuu-~"

(Everyone) "BUT LONG AS THERE ARE STAAARS ABOVE YOUUUUU!

YOU NEVER NEEEEED TO DOUBT IIIIT!

I'LL MAKE YOU SO SURE ABOUT IIIIT!-"

(S/O) "-God-

(Itto) "-God-!"

(Everyone) "-GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT I'D BEEEE, WITHOUT YOOOUUUU!~"

Their voices were completely out of harmony, and grating to the ears.

Worst of all, it was drawing attention, and everyone was beginning to connect the dots.

S/O had gotten the gang to provide backup vocals for a love song, for her.

(Sara) "Cease this racket at once, or I will throw you into the cells myself! This is a public area, you can't just start bursting into song like this!"

(S/O) "Aw, do you not like the song?-"

Sara shut her eyes as she felt her cheeks intensify in heat.

(Sara) "Do not change the subject on me, S/O!"

She had half a mind to smite them where they stood. Honestly, she was pretty close to doing so.

(Itto) "Ah come on, no one sings better than the Arataki Quartet! Right guys?"

(Arataki Gang Member 1) "Yeah!"

(Arataki Gang Member 2) "Dang right, boss!"

(S/O) "No one's better than us!"

====

S/O was involved in Beetle fighting, specifically making sure to call theirs "Sara" too.

If it wasn't for Shinobu's help, S/O and Itto would have been smacked upside the head by Sara more times than she could count.

And Archons above, S/O argues so loudly about her wings!

(S/O) "No, I won't let Sara make you fly off! Stop asking, man!"

(Itto) "Whaat?! Come on bro, just ONE flight is all I'm asking!"

(S/O) "Those wings are MINE! Back off!"

(Sara) "I'm standing right here! And they're mine, S/O."

(S/O) "Aw come on, I've seen you smile when you let me nap on your wi-"

(Sara) "S-SHUT UP! Don't go announcing that to the entire world!"

(Itto) "Bleh! TMI, nevermind, don't want it!"

Honestly, Sara has no idea how she fell in love with this idiot.

...But she couldn't deny that it did make her feel happy at times.

(Itto) "Goood, S/O never shuts up about you!"

(Shinobu) "Boss, not exactly a good idea to insult S/O to her face."

(Itto) "Psh, it's not exactly false either!"

(Sara) "R-Really?"

(Itto) "GOD yeah! They keep goin' on and on about how sweet you are, it's like, DUDE! I KNOW! YOU SAID IT LIKE, FIVE TIMES NOW!"

Sara lets a small smile escape her lips before clearing her throat.

(Sara) "Hmph. I'll talk to them."

(Itto) "Please do, I'm gonna jump off a cliff the next time they start gushing about you!"

Itto walked off, leaving Shinobu and Sara alone.

(Shinobu) "...So you're going to kill them for gushing aloud how much they love you, right?"

(Sara) "Probably."

Shinobu chuckled, her mask muffling her voice.

(Sara) "I just wish they could express their love in ways that didn't make my veins burst in anger."

(Shinobu) "Psh, we both know you secretly love it."

(Sara) "I do not."

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris happens to be her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, neighbour included. Though in my case, mine is very cute and very hot. And handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen. And his name is Rúben.

Author's note: This story has been finished and waiting in my drafts since 2022. I wrote it as a new and different version of "The Nanny Diaries" (my story with Ben Chilwell) because I didn't like it, and then I ended not liking this one either 🙈 But time passed, I read it again recently, thought it was cute… And here we are, having now both of them posted when they weren't supposed to 😅 I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family with a spoiled kid and Chris is her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, but let's start from the beginning.

My entire life was designed to achieve one goal: become the best piano player in the country. Or in the continent if my father got too excited. And since I can remember, I've been glued to one.

While my friends were going out to the park, I was going to my teacher's house to practice. While my friends were meeting to go shopping or watch a movie at the cinema, I was practicing. While my friends were going out clubbing and meeting boys and girls, I was going early to bed because I had practice in the morning. And while my friends were choosing a career path they liked and enjoyed and moving to different cities all around the country, I only had one option: playing the piano and moving to Manchester, where the best teacher lived. 

The weather sucks, yes. But it isn't such an ugly city as they say, and all the people I met were lovely and very welcoming. Unless you are fighting with them for a spot on the next recital or to get the next scholarship. That's when things get nasty, and that's how you end up with broken fingers and the dreams your parents had for you shattered. Because becoming the best piano player of my generation wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Or my father’s to be precise.

So when Anastasia Hamilton pushed me down the stairs and I found myself with two broken fingers on my left hand, a sprained ankle and my body covered in bruises, I didn't complain. Well, that's a lie. I complained and cried because it hurt like hell. But I didn't complain when they told me I wouldn't be able to play the piano like I used to due to one of my fingers not healing properly despite being treated by the best doctors. I didn't complain because I was finally free. If I wanted to play, I would be doing it because I wanted to, not because it was my job, because I had to, because my future depended on it. Now I was free to finally follow my dreams and not my parents’. Or that's what I thought.

I told them I wanted to take a gap year to figure out what to do with my life, but they said no. They had decided that I should study to become a music teacher, to help others achieve what I hadn't been able to. We argued, they said that if I wanted to do anything different it would not be with their money, I said ok, and I found myself alone in Manchester with barely any money or a place to live.

And that's when I crossed paths with Julia. 

I had gone to the shopping centre to see if anyone was looking for a waitress or someone to fold t-shirts in a shop, when I saw her crying in the middle of one of the corridors, most people walking past her and ignoring her. 

"Hey, are you ok?" I said, kneeling in front of her. "Where are your parents?"

"Quiero a mi mamá" she sobbed. That was why people were ignoring her. She only spoke Spanish and they didn't understand her. But, lucky me, I used to go to the north of Spain for music summer camp and I can speak it fluently. 

"¿Dónde está tu mamá?" Where is your mum? 

"No lo sé. Estaba comprando una taza fea y..." Her mum was buying an ugly mug. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Ok, let’s go find her.” Where we were most shops only sold clothes, but I remembered I had just walked past a Zara Home. Maybe she was there? "Come" I said, grabbing her hand. She didn't say a word and just followed me, her sobs turning into hiccups. 

"Julia!" a woman screamed the moment we turned the corner. "Oh, Julia, I thought I had lost you!" 

"Mami!" the kid said, letting go of my hand and throwing herself at the woman. "Me perdí y esta chica me ayudó."

"Did you help her?" the woman asked me.

"I saw her crying and that people were ignoring her, and I decided to check on her. She was speaking Spanish and I think that's why most people were walking past her, because they weren't able to understand her."

"Oh, she always does that when she gets upset. Do you speak Spanish?"

"Yup."

"Oh, you are an angel" the woman said, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to thank you."

"Knowing that she's alright is enough, don’t worry."

"No, no, no. You must allow me to do something for you. What do you say, Julia. Should we invite this wonderful angel to have lunch with us?"

"Yes!" Julia said, her English coming back. "We'll bake you a chocolate cake! Do you like chocolate cake?"

"I actually do, yes" I smiled.

"Then it's settled. Let me give you my card, it has my office phone number on it" Julia's mum said, opening her bag. "Call tomorrow morning and we'll schedule that lunch together."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Thank you" the woman said, giving me a hug. "My name us Lucía, by the way. But you can call me Lucy like everyone in this country does."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy."

Lucía, Lucy. A Spanish lawyer specialized in divorces, and the divorces of very wealthy people. Which meant that when I arrived at her house for that lunch date, I found myself before one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city. 

"Are you coming in, miss?" the doorman asked.

"Yes, hi, sorry. Do I have to tell you where I'm going or..."

"You don't look like a thief" the man chuckled.

"I'm not, I promise. I'm meeting with Lucy and Julia."

"Oh, yes. Miss Julia said a friend was coming for lunch today. An angel."

"That must be me" I said, blushing a bit.

"Then welcome, miss" the man said, opening the building's door. "Do you know their floor number?"

"Yes, the 7th. Letter B."

"That’s the one. Call for the lift and push the number, their house will be the one to your right."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"My pleasure, miss" the man said with a smile. Roger. The loveliest man you'll ever meet.

"So glad you could make it" Lucy said after opening the door, giving me a hug. 

"Angel!" Julia screamed, coming to also hug me. "You came!"

"Of course I did."

"She’s decided to start calling you angel because of what I said at the shopping centre. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry" I smiled.

“Come, let me show you my room" Julia said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her.

After a tour around the house and its many rooms, we were back in the living room, one where the small flat I was renting thanks to some money my grandparents had been sending me without my parents knowing, could perfectly fit.

"Is that a real piano?" I asked Julia.

"It's daddy's" she said. "We used to play together."

"That's lovely." My dad never played with me just for fun. It always was about practice, practice... And oh, yes, more practice.

"Do you play?" Lucy asked me.

"Since I was Julia's age."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Why don't you play something for us while we wait for our food?"

"Sure" I said, sitting in front of the huge black piano. It was a very expensive one like everything else on that building.

"Daddy used to play that!" Julia said when she recognized the song. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad... Mami, why are you crying?" she asked her when we finished.

"Because it was beautiful, sweetheart. And you play so well" Lucy told me. "Have you ever thought about giving lessons?"

"Not really..."

"Julia started to take them a few months ago, but her teacher... Had other things to do, so now she doesn't have one. Would you like to take her place?"

"Me?" 

"Yes, angel! Be my teacher!" Julia said, clapping her hands and jumping.

That was what my parents had wanted me to do. To become a teacher. I wasn't going to be doing it at the music school, but this still was teaching, right? And I liked Lucy and Julia a lot despite only knowing them for just a few hours. 

"I'll do it" I said. "I'll be Julia's teacher."

"Oh, perfect!" Lucy smiled. "When can you start?"

"Whenever you want. I have nothing else to do" I shrugged.

"Then tomorrow. I have to work, so maybe you could pick up Julia from school, bring her here and start your lessons? I'll pay you for that extra time."

"Ok" I nodded.

I had found a job, one that I liked, and one that was going to pay me handsomely judging by the numbers Lucy had mentioned while doing a draft of my contract. 

I was so busy thinking about all that, checking the details she had given me about Julia's school, that I hadn’t noticed the lift had made it to the lobby and the doors were open. 

“Are you going up again?” a male voice said.

“Uh?” I replied, lifting my eyes from my phone. And what did they see? The most handsome man you could ever imagine.

“Are you going up again?” he repeated.

“I…” I had forgotten how to speak. I may have not been wearing an ugly costume like Scarlett in one of the scenes where she met Chris Evans, but I had my jaw on the floor and definitely was making a fool of myself. “No” I finally managed to say.

“So… are you leaving, then?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Yes” I said, still looking at him. Was he real? He was real. When he stopped the lift’s door from closing again, taking a step forward towards me, I saw that he was very real. “Thank you. Sorry. I’m leaving” I blurted out, my brain finally remembering how speaking worked. Kind of.

“It’s ok” he replied with a smile. No, not a smile. A smirk. One that made everything inside me turn upside down. “Bye” he said, walking inside the lift and letting go of the doors, disappearing behind them while I just stared. He must have thought I was stupid. A creep. Or both. But what else are you supposed to do when you find yourself face to face with the hottest man in planet earth?

“Miss, are you alright?” I heard Roger say from the door.

“Yes, yes. Just… Processing what just happened. That I got a job, I mean” I quickly added, noticing how he was arching an eyebrow, his eyes moving to the lift. 

“Oh, those are great news, miss. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I guess you’ll be seeing more of me from now on.”

And hopefully, I would be seeing more of him too. Of the hot neighbour, my own Chris Evans. Though later on I would find out that his name wasn’t Chris, that would have been too much of a coincidence.

His name was Rúben. 

[bunnymoon-phase]

It's @wyervan 's world and we're all just players in it. Moon has been getting a lot of fic love lately! I will not be changing up the formula UwU I will write something for Sun at some point I swear but this fic came to me fully-formed as I was waking up this morning and I had to immediately write and post it.

Slight suggestive themes, discussions of pregnancy, discussions of a past abusive relationship.

***

Moon’s hand slid from their hip to the waistband of their pants and Esther made a small, disapproving noise into the kiss. They pulled away in the same motion they used to grab his hand and lace his fingers through theirs so he couldn’t unbutton their jeans. “Not tonight, please. The pregnancy fatigue is really getting to me lately.”

“Okay,” Moon replied, his breath ghosting across their collarbone. “Do you still want to make out?”

Esther leaned away a little further to look him in the face, a smile curling their lips. “That’s it?”

Moon didn't respond, tilting his head a hint to the left with a studious look.

Esther elaborated, teasingly. “No complaining? No comments about blue balls? My thigh is in your lap, I can feel how hard you are. What, you wanna fuck me less as I get bigger or something?”

The smile fell from Esther's face. They’d forgotten that the pestering and complaining wasn’t normal. And when Moon phrased it the way he did…

Moon snorted, the hand cupping the back of their head sliding through their hair. “I always wanna fuck you, Starlight. You said ‘no’. If I really can't stand it, I’ll jerk off in the bathroom or something before I leave. I’m not gonna annoy you into changing your mind after you said ‘no’, that’s pathetic.”

Moon made a curious sound, cupping their chin to make them look at him again. Esther gave a half-hearted shrug, averting their gaze instead, kind of ashamed to be comparing him to Harrison—regardless of how Moon always came out on top. “I just… think Harrison might have been a bigger asshole than I realized, is all.”

The twin grips on their chin and hand tightened almost to the point of pain, and when Esther glanced at his face to see what was going on, his gaze looked distant. They made a noise of discomfort, raising their free hand to try and pry his off, but the sound brought him back before they could, and he released them entirely with a look of mild surprise. He cupped the back of their head to kiss their forehead in apology, and then stayed there, his chin resting on the crown of their head. Esther could see his free hand clenched into a fist by his side, could hear his deep breaths filling his chest.

“He’s out of your life now,” Moon rasped above them, and gave them another forehead kiss before pulling away entirely. He stood, and held a hand out to them to help them rise as well. “You’re tired. I'll put you to bed.”

Esther hummed their laugh. “Who’s going to lock the door behind you if you put me to bed?”

“I will. Spare key, silly.”

Esther snorted. “I don’t have a spare key. My neighbor’s house was broken into when I was a kid because of their spare key. When Harrison lost his keys he had to sit and wait for me to come home and let him in because I refused to make a spare key.”

Moon’s eyebrows raised. He left Esther on the couch to open their front door, ducking slightly as he leaned out so his head wouldn’t graze the doorway. He reached up with one hand and pulled down a silver key, showing it to them, and fitting it into the lock of the open door as their stomach dropped. Esther watched him turn the lock effortlessly.

Harrison.

A surge of rage swelled within them, and they raised their eyes to the sky as if whatever god may or may not have been up there could grant them some sort of absolution from the emotion—preferably by materializing Harrison before them so they could bash his face in with their bare fists.

Moon pulled them back to earth again, pulling his own key ring from his pocket. “Mm. Mine now.”

Esther blinked at him. He paused, as if waiting for something, and spoke when they continued to fix him with a blank stare l. “I’m here all the time now. Used this key to lock the door last time I left, while you were asleep.”

Esther nodded, relieved. “Better in your hands than on the top of the doorway.”

Moon nodded and finished fixing the key onto the ring. Then he gestured to the back of the apartment, to Esther’s bedroom. “Alright. Bedtime.”

“It’s nine,” Esther protested, and promptly yawned.

Esther glared, but let theirself be picked up princess-style. “You’re a menace. You planned this, somehow.”

Moon grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the low light like shark teeth. The door closed behind him as he advanced on them. “Bedtime. Little Stars growing an entire other human being in their body need their rest.”

Moon cackled as he walked, giving them a look. “How?”

Stubbornly, Esther crossed their arms. “Dunno. You just did.”

Moon let them drop onto their bed, leaning over them before they finished bouncing and caging them in with hid arms. “My only plans for the night were to fuck you into the mattress. This will do as a substitution. Go to sleep.”

Esther tilted their head up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Goodnight, Moon.”

He had the audacity to look surprised for a moment before returning the gesture. Esther felt their cheeks heat, flustered, as he straightened up. With a wave of his hand and a closing of their bedroom door, he was gone.

Esther stared at the ceiling even after they heard their front door closing and locking behind him. They put a hand over the swell of their stomach, and not for the first time, wished this pregnancy was a month younger. They’d love the kid no matter what, for sure—but it would be nice to have Moon in the kid’s life as a father figure, rather than just a friend.

(Sun as well for the matter, but that was an even bigger stretch of the imagination—Sun didn’t seem to have any interest in Esther at all beyond the professional and platonic dynamic they had now.)

They weren’t going to force him to be a dad just because they were fucking him, though, so they put their phone on the charger instead of calling him and changed into their pajamas. They really were tired.

***

Moon’s like “everything I learn about this motherfucker makes me wish we killed him slower.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my mom to stop using scented bath salts?

For background, I am 35 and live with my mom and stepdad in an apartment. We split rent and utilities equitably. I am disabled and spend most of my time in my room. I have the bedroom that has its own bathroom and the rest of the apartment is functionally theirs. I have the use of the kitchen and can go hang out in the living room etc. but they control the space and it contains their belongings almost exclusively. In other words, my room is the only place that's really "mine." My mom has always enjoyed heavy fragrance products (perfumes, plug-ins, etc.) and knows I hate them. I do NOT have an allergy or any medical issue pertaining to them, I just find the smells very unpleasant and in strong enough concentrations a bit nauseating. I mostly accept her doing scent stuff in the main apartment as it doesn't affect my room, but lately she has been taking baths with a scented bath salt (in their bathroom, not mine) that has an intense, overpowering "clean" scent. I have compared it to Lysol, not sure what it's actually supposed to smell like. For reasons I cannot identify, it invades and permeates my room (even with door closed) like no other smell, at an intensity that wakes me up if I'm sleeping, makes it hard to even think straight, hurts my sinuses, and stays like that for hours. I can mitigate this somewhat by opening my window and running the fan but of course it's the middle of winter and 20 degrees outside. So I asked her to stop using this product, and suggested the same brand's fragrance-free variety. After a bit of back-and-forth she agreed to stop but said "I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I'm making, because I really like the way that bath salt makes me smell. So I'm basically giving up my happiness for yours." I said "There are lots of other ways you could make yourself smell nice, right? Maybe a body wash or lotion?" (Note: she has, for my entire life, loved and used lotions, body washes and similar products freely.) She said "No, I don't want to use those. I wanted to use the scented bath salts. But I'll stop so you can have things your way." I keep thinking about her framing this as an equation by which either I could get what I want (room not reek of chemical fragrance) or she could get what she wants (smell how she wants) and she gave up hers so I could get mine. I let the argument go because she'd agreed to what I wanted, but now I'm back and forth between thinking I'm being selfish and thinking she's being melodramatic and manipulative. It seemed more to me like asking a neighbor to turn down their very loud music (are they sacrificing their enjoyment for yours if they comply? or were they just doing something annoying and stopped when asked? is there a difference?) but maybe that's a false equivalence. AITA for getting my mom to stop using the bath salts to get her desired smell because it makes my room miserable?

What are these acronyms?

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka x Narrator & Sam Kiszka x OC.

Chapter One

Summary: The Jones Family are new additions to the sleepy community of Beech Run. A tight knit scattering of rural houses, where everyone knows everyone. Deeply religious and overbearingly strict, the daughters of the family are kept under lock & key by a fanatical Father and submissive Mother. They watch from bedroom windows as their neighbours, The Kiszkas, draw intense curiosity and desire to be free. Madness of youth , hope & obsession collide to bring the danger of forbidden love to poetic ends. (Era A/U)

A/N: I want to dedicate this fic to all my beautiful friends who have loved and supported me through what could only be described as a difficult time. Their belief in me as a person, who tries to be good even though I'm prone to making hellish mistakes, has been unwavering and as such I wanted to create a piece of writing that I felt they would enjoy and immerse themselves in. So, this ones for you @writingcold @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @katuschka @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @gretavangroupie and everyone else who has been with me on this journey.

Warnings: Religious trauma. Parental trauma. Intense emotions including desire, obsession, grief and yearning. Loss of virginity. Explicit sexual activity. Heavy praise kink. Severe edging. Oral sex m/f. Fingering. Masturbation. Dirty filth talk.

Summer 1984

The Kiszka's were like catching that scent of freshly cut grass on warm summer air. Nostalgic for something I'd never had. Books that I dare not open because my love for the cover meant that I was too afraid to start something I knew I'd never be able to put down. They were Sunday morning distractions, like I'd never known a day without putting my hand to glass and letting their chaos drift in through the open window.

The first time I saw them I didn't know the sound of laughter could make my heart want to die. The sort of rambunctious envy I felt was a thief to any joy I might have found, standing in the dust as I carried boxes into the new house. Theirs was a summer of freedom. And mine was like trying to find solace in the darkness.

The girl was pretty when she smiled. I thought, perhaps, in some other life she and I could have been friends. Sometimes I imagined it, that she would knock on our door and ask for me by name. A delusion I centred within myself whenever I saw her ride by on the yellow push bike that was always leaning against their porch steps. The boys weren't like that, though. No part of me could imagine myself in that wild entanglement. Fires and swearing, ripping their shirts off in the midday heat to wrestle in the dirt. Guitars littering their garage door, riffs that drifted in on the wind making me want to rise from the doldrums.

It just wasn't like that for us. Any hope that I'd carried into Beech Run was dashed the moment my Father shook hands with the patriarch of our neighbours, and immediately insisted that we weren't to go near those people. Godless and bohemian. Without decency. Without enough fear of a faceless, impalpable being that seemed to rule over nobody save for us.

He was a pastor and we paid for that dearly. With our curfews and our diligence and our punishments if we didn't honour God precisely how we should. I stopped believing that an almighty power would have chosen this life for me a long time ago, but nothing felt more certain until we moved to Beech Run. Only the devil would have put us next to the Kiszka's.

"They're so pretty."

Jolene was sitting on the windowsill, playing with her hair as she admired them. She had that faraway look in her eye that most girls had when they were seventeen. Romanticising them, giving them entirely fictionalised morals and wondering what her name would sound like on their lips.

"Come away from the window." I warned, the torture of it something I had already decided I would not endure all summer.

She would bite down on her lip and sway against the glass. Insufferable. Lost in a sea of their sweaty bodies tearing across the front lawn, having water fights and jam sessions in the garage. All the things we were denied. She and I, lumbered with reading lists and prayer groups that made me want to rip out my immortal soul and offer it to the highest bidder.

"The tall one, he looks as if he might sweep you off your feet. He keeps tucking his hair behind his ear, I think I'd like to do that for him."

No good would come of it. I could see the whispering angels and demons perched on my sister's shoulders. Consorting with her. The fathomless ages of young girls who had come before her in their tragic echoes, doomed to desire and the shadow of a breaking heart hanging above her head.

"Come." I encouraged, "Sit and read with me a while. And then shall we see if Ben will take us into town?"

The freedoms allowed to our brother were tantamount to our lack of it. He was the eldest and therefore had the privileges of that. He was male, and existed in a world that Jolene and I did not encompass. Sometimes he would take pity on us and drive us into town to get an ice cream or watch a movie. Sometimes he would be cruel and drive there without even telling us.

"I'm fine here." She sighed, and I suspected she wanted them to see her.

I was far too practical to follow her into that folly of romance. I thought myself immune to it, happy to just read about it in books that would remove me from my present circumstances. Something which had made me a target, previously, for underhand comments as I walked down the school halls or sat in the library just turning pages.

"Fine, until you send yourself silly with all this nonsense." I sighed, putting my book aside and shimmying to the end of my bed.

"I want to know what it feels like, don't you?" She was a dreamer, a conjurer of a fate I could already feel the chill of spilling down my back. "To be taken for a ride in a car, and have them open the door for you. And kiss you goodnight, making you feel like you're the prettiest thing they ever saw. Don't you want that, Bonnie?"

If I had ever wanted it, the moment had passed. Perhaps I was hopeful once, but then hope could be so easily dashed. My sister was beautiful in an uncommon way. Simple and understated, the sort of beauty that was caught at the right angle and once perceived, it was devastating. With long auburn waves and a set of dreamy blue eyes, she had lips that were full and round in complete contrast to what I had to offer.

"No." I replied without hesitation. "I don't want deal with any foolishness, least of all from a man. Don't we put up with enough of that from our own dear brother?"

She rolled her eyes in contention. "It's not the same, and you know it's not. Brothers are nuisances. In the same way Dads are."

With that, I couldn't disagree. Ours was a formidable creature who liked to keep us so pure it was as if any man would contaminate us by breathing the same air. Something which had begun to take it's toll. I had given up, and Jolene was merely awaiting her chance to break all the rules.

"Oh, but not these boys." She sang, returning her gaze to the frivolities unfolding across the street. "These boys are handsome and good. I just know that they are sweet and kind and up close I bet they have all these little nuances that only stand to make them even more handsome."

She would walk into a pit of fire if it promised to love her and adore her. Willing to walk to her heart break like ascending to the gallows with a smile upon her face and would willingly do it all over and over again just for a taste of something like passion. A part of me envied her.

"Maybe you're right." I agreed, deciding it might be worth a peek. "Maybe they are handsome and good. And maybe they will take you riding in a car and kiss you goodnight. But that doesn't change the fact that Dad would never allow it."

There were three of them. The elder of the twins was a lithe and charismatic thing. With a mop of curls and a penchant for wearing his pants low enough that my Dad had balked at the sight of him upon introductions. The younger twin was a little more reserved, hiding behind a curtain of long dark hair. His smile was entirely unexpected just by looking at the depth and darkness of his eyes. Neither of which were mirrored in their younger brother, who had all the hope and exuberance of a puppy dog that hadn't been trained on how to behave around company.

And Jolene was right. They were so infuriatingly pretty. All three of them with the same magnetic curse that had drawn my attention whether I wanted it to or no. I was no better than she, leaning my hand against the glass so that I might see them better. Rolling my tongue around in my mouth as I tried to appear calm.

"I'll jump out of a thousand windows before I ever let Daddy tell me who I can or cannot love."

I believed her. There was something in the way she stared out of that window that made me truly believe she would never let such a thing come between her and her desires. And as I looked down at the object of her affection, he saw me for the very first time.

Shirtless and sweaty, his hair wet and slicked back. He raised a hand to his brow and stared directly into our bedroom window. His brother, coming to see what had distracted him, followed his line of vision. Raising his hand, the two of them drenched and flushed pink as they stood at the end of their driveway regarding us. And we, against our better judgement, stared back.

I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how I might be regarded by another. It was a terrible thing to be young and have innocence imposed. I would trail my fingers down my breasts and imagine that the handsome boy who had peered into my window was standing in the darkness behind me.

I couldn't see him. He wasn't a perfect image. His face was blurred from the distance of where he'd stood in my memories of that day. But it was him that I summoned whenever I touched myself. There was no other who came to mind. It was always the younger twin, the one with the long hair who had dared to stand and watch.

Perhaps it was his boldness that had made him stay with me. There was something bookish about his demeanour, like he'd been written by a woman for other women to fantasise about. Simply by standing there in the summer heat, taking note of me. Like I wasn't a ghost, after all.

"Open the door, Bonnie."

His voice ran through me like the prickle of a stinging nettle against flesh. To hear it whilst I stood there, naked, made my skin crawl.

"Just a second." I replied, pulling on my robe and hurrying to obey.

My Father was on the other side, standing there with a sourness that questioned precisely why I had been in the bathroom quite as long as I had. He would ask if I had been partaking in a sin, but at the same time he wouldn't speak it into existence. He simply cleared his throat and nodded at me.

"Your Mother and I were thinking, for the service this coming Sunday, that you and your sister would like to say a few words about how welcoming our flock have been since we arrived here."

His suggestion drew an audible sigh of disappointment. That I would be expected to stand in front of our neighbours and peers as if I were somehow grateful felt like a deception in the house of God. I could imagine their faces, thinking us good little Christian girls and what perfect examples of the lord's word. A credit to our loving Father. And our Mother, who would sit there in her perpetual silence and allow it to unfold without so much as an uttering against it.

"Of course." I replied obediently, "As you wish, Daddy."

He nodded his approval, clenching his jaw as if he'd anticipated a different response.

"I'd like the congregation to see what lovely girls we have." He mused, the grey flecked moustache that sat above his upper lip twitching. "They need to see that their pastor is the head of a good, solid foundation."

I had already agreed to his demand. There was no requirement for him to stand there and justify it any further. I was consciously aware of my state of undress, and felt it necessary to continue to nod my agreement as I scurried back to my room.

"Oh, and Bonnie?" He caught my arm, firm but not enough to cause pain. "Please make sure your sister stays away from the window tonight."

He would feel superior and I would feel beholden to it. As I smiled and nodded, as if I somehow held the reigns of my sister's deeds. He was smug and I was left wondering how he even knew that she'd been standing there.

"Yes, Daddy." I muttered, knowing it would have been futile to try and convince him otherwise.

She was feigning sleep as I came into the room. Making rudimentary noises and shuffling about as if in dream. I dressed quickly and quietly and it wasn't until I had switched off my lamp and laid my head down that she decided to end her performance.

"Bonnie?"

I flicked the lamp back on. "Yes?"

"Do you think Daddy will let us go to down to the creek this summer? I heard the Kiszka's talking about it outside. They said there was going to be a heat wave and all the kids from Beech Run and the next town over would be heading there. I sure would like to go."

There was an effervescent hope in her voice. That somehow, if she could only say it out loud, it might make it come true. I ruminated on the right way to tell her I couldn't see it being a possibility, not wanting to shatter her dreams entirely.

"Perhaps, if Ben is there escort us, there might be a chance." I offered, knowing that our brother had no intention of escorting us anywhere during his first summer in a new place with all the freedoms and folly of a youth that was extended to him.

She was leaning on her palm. Playing with a thread on her pillow case, her mouth all smushed up as she contemplated what I'd said.

"I just want to be like all the other girls." She sighed, before turning over and signalling the end of her part in our conversation.

"Dad wants us to say a few words at service this Sunday." I told her, plunging the room back into darkness, "Maybe we'll tell them all how he keeps us here like prisoners."

I heard a small, almost indiscernible titter from Jolene's side of the room. But I let her be. Sinking into my bed sheets and trying to imagine I time where I'd ever been satisfied.

He was there, again. Standing in the darkness. Haunting me. His imperfect face just beyond where I could see, the shape of him calling out to me. A set of deep set brown eyes appraised me, squinting through sunlight to get a better look at me. And I replayed it over and over until it was scratched into my memory like an old cassette that had worn it's self down to white noise.

I just wanted to know his name.

It was a Thursday evening. When the wall clock in the kitchen stopped. Summer rain began to fall. My Mother lost her most treasured thimble whilst sewing a set of curtains in the chair by the front window. And my Father was berating us for a less than exuberant attempt at writing a speech for the up coming church service.

He had us standing there like sentinels. Brushing his disappointment over us as if we were his canvas. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle, a deep rooted need to protect my little sister from this sort of tirade starting to bubble away beneath the surface.

"I don't feel your gratitude, Jolene." He scorned, scrunching her script up in his hands like it was a tissue he'd used to blow his nose. "Try something a little more heart felt."

She was on the verge of tears. I could see them welling up in the corners of her eyes. I looked over at my Mother and felt a sense of abandonment whilst she was still in the room as she searched for the thimble she had lost. Silently willing her to step in, to say something. Anything.

"We'll have something appropriate drawn up by Sunday." I assured him, waiting to be dismissed.

His dominance was always at it's most ferocious when I dared to even tread into defiance. Sometimes I wondered if he took pleasure in it. The way Jolene trembled beneath his word and I tried and fought in vain to protect her. I wasn't the one prone to rebellion and yet it felt as if I always took the brunt simply because I always tucked Jolene behind me, safely squirrelling her away from his overbearing eye.

"See that you do." He simply replied, waving a cursory hand that allowed us to leave.

I heard my Mother rejoice as the lost thimble was found. My heart sinking that this was her biggest joy. That she had barely taken note of her daughters and our pain and the way we were slowly sinking into oblivion. Why was I even trying to obey?

Perhaps I closed my bedroom door a little more aggressively than I'd intended. It caused the pictures on my wall to shudder. The bottle of perfume on my nightstand rolled over. And Jolene fell into her pillows, leaving the stains of tears in the folds of fabric.

"They'd never convict him a court of law because he doesn't beat us." She sobbed, screaming silently into blankets.

Perhaps he would have if the marks would've been translucent. I often wondered if my Dad had ever thought about beating us into submission. Sometimes the bloody veins in the whites of his eyes and the tiny speck of spit in the corner of his mouth as he raged at us made me wonder if he curled his fist up at just the right moment if he would strike.

"I thought, when we moved here, that things might be different." I dared to wonder, "But if anything, he's worse."

Jolene's face was all blotchy and pink. Sodden with tears and her hair stuck to her wet cheeks.

"He knows, Bonnie." She sniffed. "He knows that if we were given half the chance we'd be across the street. With those boys."

Would it have been so bad? To have known a summer of love? I was eighteen years old. Never been kissed. Never been taken on a date and had a door opened for me. I had tried so hard to ignore it, but I could no longer look away from it. The way I'd been spending more time on it, touching myself and imagining him in the place of my own hand.

"You don't care, anyway." She added, with a little more malice. "You don't want any of it. You're always trying to stop me from looking at them. You're always burying your head in a book, as if that will help."

Perhaps I deserved that. I didn't dare tell her that I'd had a change of heart, of late. That my usual stance had begun to shift. Where once I'd thought the wanting had passed, it had started to become an insatiable curiosity. Even my waking thoughts were plagued by it.

"That's not true." I confessed, laying a careful hand in her hair. "I'm sorry if I ever made you feel alone in this. I promise, you're not."

Her nose wrinkled as she looked at me. As if seeing me for the first time. Allied in our awakening interest in the boys across the street.

"I can't stop thinking about him, Bonnie. Every night before I sleep and every morning when I wake up. I wish I could wash him out of my mind. But he's there, all the time, looking up at our window."

"I know, I know..." I soothed, "I've tried to forget that they exist, too."

I'd forgotten to draw our blinds. In our haste to appease our ever demanding Father, I'd left the curtains open too. From the corner of my eye I noticed a light flicker on outside, drawing my attention. I turned and took note of the Kiszka house, the glowing square in the upstairs left quarter was like a beacon against the rural darkness of our street.

"Look." I said, waiting for my sister to follow my gaze.

It was the elder of the twins who appeared. A towel sat snugly around his waist as he ruffled another through his hair. He was lean and perfectly cut, not dissimilar to his counterpart. I felt a sudden shame at watching him, but there seemed to be no care for his close proximity to the window.

He was talking to someone. His mouth moving in soft intervals, as if engaging in a conversation we could not hear. I was enthralled, nonetheless. Wondering what he was talking about. Who he was talking to. He carefully ran his hands through his curls, making sure they were perfectly sculpted. His stomach taught and his arms raised above his head, but it was only inquisitiveness that made me continue to look.

I felt nothing until he appeared. Tossing his brother a clean t-shirt. Doing nothing of value. Padding around and making me feel like the most detestable of voyeurs.

"He's the one, isn't he?" Jolene asked softly, taking note of my how my breath hitched as he appeared. "We can't just pretend like this isn't happening."

"They don't even know we exist." I dismissed her, forcing myself to look away.

"That's not true." She replied fluidly, her voice rising like a song. "We were introduced when we first moved here. They've seen us watching them. Even if it's the only thing they know, it's that we exist."

I wanted so badly for it to be true. I watched him stand there poetically in the window, talking to his brother and running a hand through his long hair. Casual. No care within the world for him. And I envied not only the fact that I couldn't be close to him, but also that I ached to be him.

I didn't settle at all that night. Fretting, feeling as if I held all the anguish in the world in the pit of my stomach. Jolene had nodded off as soon as the light across the street went out. But I continued to stare at the void a while longer. Silent tears streaking my cheek, the salt on my lips like a bitter reminder that it was all I could do to let it out.

I could see my reflection in the glass. A spiritual spectre that didn't have a voice. I stood there in my white linen night gown, ruffled at the sleeves and thought myself truly a ghost. The window was cold to the touch. The night was cool and calm whilst within me raged a tempest.

I didn't want to go to bed and lay down and have my thoughts ruin me. It would have been nightmares that came to me, ones about being locked in a cage. And so I stood there, in the window I had promised not to let my sister stare out of.

That warm glow from across the street reignited. It almost made me flinch. The way the darkness was all consuming, and then there it was. The light on in the room upstairs. I held my breath, as if somehow they'd be able to hear me. Lip trembling as he reappeared, this time alone. A look of forlorn sadness in his face as he went to pull the curtains closed.

He thought he could see something. He thought himself mad as he peered out further, squinting into the darkness as he caught the sight of me. It was in my mind to turn and disregard him, but I was rooted to the spot. Afraid that if I moved I would never feel again the way I felt right then in that moment.

I knew that he could see me. Certain as I knew that he was watching me right back. I could feel the pull of my heart strings dragging it down, into a flurry that churned my stomach like butter. He stood there, his forearm against the glass as he rested his head against it. Staring at me as if he couldn't quite believe I was real.

And then he raised his hand and waved. And I, inexplicably, waved back.

I sat in the choir loft as parishioners began to filter in. Gripping my insincere little speech in my hand, the paper felt as heavy as granite as I turned it in my hands.

I'd barely slept. Keeping vigil the past two nights, waiting for Jake to appear. That was his name. So graciously given to me, scrawled on a piece of paper as we exchanged messages from our respective windows.

It felt like poetry in motion. The first time he held up a crude scribble and asked for my name. It felt like I had been truly seen. I'd hastily scrambled for a pen and a notebook, holding it against the glass whilst he nodded his understanding. Waiting with my heart beating a muffled drum within my chest as he wrote something back.

He asked me why we never came to the creek. Why we never seemed to linger in the wide open spaces all around us. Why we were always in town with our brother. He seemed intrigued. Telling me about his passion for his guitar through page after page of rushed sentences.

The last of which had told me to wait for him in the choir loft before Sunday service.

Only a fool would have agreed to this. To sit there in my Sunday best, knees clicking together in consuming nerves of what I was about to do. Keeping a watchful eye on my Father as he stood at the podium and graciously welcomed his congregation. I'd never seen Jake or his family at church on any Sunday since we'd moved there. I questioned why he'd asked me to wait for him up in the rafters, but not enough to stop myself from agreeing to it.

"Bonnie?"

I clutched the hem of my skirt, knuckles white and my cheeks pale as I swallowed hard. He slid into the seat behind me. Graciously foregoing the seat beside me, I kept my eyes focused forward and felt as if I might melt into the very grain of the wooden pews. He leaned forward, resting elbows on the back of my pew, his breath warm and silken against the curve of my neck.

"Jake." I replied, my mouth suddenly ravenously dry.

What did I even anticipate that the pay off of this risk would be? Just to feel my own heart beating so wildly in my chest that I thought, perhaps, that I might pass out? To have a moment of stolen sin? I could smell the soap he'd used to wash with that very morning and the hint of coffee and toothpaste in the warmth of his breath. Was this ever going to be enough?

"You don't know how long I've wanted to talk to you." He confessed in hushed tones that forced me to close my eyes against the sincerity of the words. "Ever since you moved here. You've been somewhat of an enigma."

Nobody had ever spoken to me like that before. With careless want and an honesty that threatened to choke me. I could feel my palms grow sweaty, a compelling heat rising in my cheeks.

"We're not allowed to talk to boys." I replied earnestly, opening my eyes to a reality I did not want nor could I any longer tolerate.

He scoffed at the insinuation that he was a boy. "I'm twenty years old, I'm hardly that."

There was an innocent playfulness in the way he chased his brothers around their front yard. Their boyish natures belying their true age. I envied more than ever that they'd been granted that. Feeling naïve that I could have ever considered him a mere boy. Now that he was sitting so close to me, I could feel the urge to sin like effervescence bubbling off his skin. Something only men could feel.

"Forgive me." I faltered, bowing my head in solemn regret that I had been so fruitless in my estimation.

But he didn't berate me. "Oh, you're a caged little bird aren't you?"

If I could have let myself cry, he'd have witnessed a dam bursting. I sat there twisting my skirt, almost ripping the paper against it, letting hatred and regret and desire course through my veins. I hoped, more than anything I'd ever hoped for before, that he couldn't see the anguish.

"Are you ridiculing me?" I dared to ask, turning my head ever so slightly to catch him in my periphery.

I could see his lips parted as he lingered at my ear.

"No, never that." He reassured. "But I've seen the way he keeps you behind glass. I've seen you standing at the window watching us. And I tortured myself wondering if you knew that we had been watching you, too."

My breath stilled. "We?"

He boldly leaned a little further forward. Joining me in my gaze as I stared down at the growing crowd below. His chin almost rested on my shoulder, his hair almost brushed against my cheek. I couldn't stand it, the close proximity and the way I felt as if I couldn't move an inch.

"My brother Sam, and I." He confirmed. "He thinks your sister is damn near the prettiest little thing he's ever seen. But I told him no, that's not true. There's more grace and beauty in the older sister. She is where my mind runs to when I look towards your house."

To consider that he had thought of me made the centre of my chest begin to throb with a yearning I had never endured before. It filled that empty space between my ribs. Aching to crawl out and consume the rest of my body. I could scarcely breathe. My hand instinctively dropped the hem of my skirt and flew to my collar bone. Resting there as I tried to calm my beating heart.

"I didn't think you knew we even existed." I whispered, letting his confidence shine down on me, a part of me feeling fearless enough to make these confessions.

"On the contrary." He replied, sweeping his breath across my cheek bone, quite unintentionally as he lingered close to me. " I've thought of you often ever since you arrived. Wondering if you were ever going to make friends with my sister so that I could have the opportunity to talk to you. It was the greatest disappointment when we realised it wasn't meant to be."

His dream had been mine. The two of us worlds apart, and yet staggeringly close. Wanting the same wants. Needing the same needs. Laying his head down each night with that same blurred image of me that I had kept of him, too. God had finally answered my prayers.

"There is nothing more that I want that that." I replied wistfully, "But he would never allow it. We'd be punished. Called wicked. Or worse."

Jake shook his head and slinked back, taking away the heat of his body and leaving me cold.

"There's nothing wicked about the desire for connection." He surmised, tucking his hair behind his ear and pulling out a cigarette from his shirt breast pocket. Putting it between his lips for later. "You tell that air headed brother of yours to bring you down to the creek tomorrow."

"Ok." I replied quietly, feeling the essence of hope leave with him as he scurried away.

He didn't linger. I couldn't see his face in the crowd as I stood at the podium. He'd slipped out as easily as he'd slipped in, and I was grateful. I didn't want him to see me up there. Making a breath full of lies for ears that would have listened to any old garbage I could have come up with.

It was all I could think about as I talked about how the sanctity of strong family values held our bonds with God together. Something about honouring thy Father. As I pictured Jake sitting behind me, hot breath on my skin and the scent of his cologne still in the air I breathed. If I was wicked, I was already going to hell.

Ben was sitting in the car, his arm draped casually over the back of the passenger seat. His hair was neatly combed to the side, his shirt tucked into his slacks as he checked his teeth in the rear view mirror.

"We don't want to go into town today." Jolene complained, slumping into the back seat with a pout that she would never let our Dad ever see. "Why can't you just take us to the creek?"

He turned and pointed an ominous finger. I was inclined to bat it out of my way as I slipped in beside Jolene. Knowing she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"You're going to town. I got a date with Harriet Dinsmore. I've been trying to pin her down for weeks. So don't start with all this going to the damn creek nonsense." He spat, carefully running a palm down the perfectly sculpted slicked hair that made him look uncannily like our Dad.

Jake had been unflinchingly correct in his estimation of our brother. For Ben, life meant never having to use much intelligence. He would fly off the back of our Fathers coat tails. No doubt becoming a pastor himself. Not for God but for the glory of it. But whilst he still held the keys to the car in his hands, I'd be smart.

"Oh, come on." I rallied, "You don't want your little sisters moping around while you try to court a pretty girl. We're better off at the creek. You can pick us up after."

I caught him roll his eyes in the mirror. "You would have me lie to Dad?"

Jolene popped her bubble gum, smirking as she stared out of the window over towards the Kiszka's house.

"It's only a lie if you tell Dad you're taking us into town with you. Has he asked where you're taking us?"

She knew there'd be a presumption made. But would use the semantics to her advantage. I felt a cool sense of pride in her, exchanging a knowing look as Ben rolled the thought around in his tiny little mind.

"Harriet Dinsmore? Isn't she the girl who works at the ice cream place?" I feigned interest. "She sure is pretty."

All it took was a few soft words about her hair. Her eyes. The way she served ice cream so deftly. She never spilled a drop. I wondered if he'd been so pliant before, if we'd had opportunities missed because we were so afraid of what our Father might do if he found out.

I was fuelled by that simple demand. That we get our air head brother to bring us to the creek. For what purpose, I didn't care. But I knew that if I didn't try I would reek of regret. And once Ben agreed to take us, I felt a sense of accomplishment that I'd never managed before.

Jolene was ratified in her excitement. Staring out of the window, beholden to a freedom so rarely afforded to us. We were given fair warning, of course, to keep to ourselves and not talk to any interested boys. To be on our best behaviour and not give him him any cause to have to tell Dad where we had been.

I did wonder what went through his mind as he dropped us at the side of the road, where the gate that lead down to creek stood open against a rickety old fence. I could hear voices in the distance. Jovial ones. And suddenly I was stricken with the stupidity of what we were about to do.

"Did he really say that?" Jolene asked, pulling down her little linen shorts and pulling fingers through her loose curls. "Did Sam Kiszka really say that I was damn near the prettiest thing he'd ever seen?"

If not for her, then for who? I set aside my reservations. Flattened down the pleat in my sun dress and pulled down the edge of my hat. I would make a fool of myself if it meant that she got to have just five minutes talking to the boy she liked. No more standing at the window wondering.

"That's what I hear." I replied, taking her hand as we sauntered through the gate and down the incline of the field towards the river bank at the bottom.

The tall grass weaved between my bare legs. Brandishing sleek little kisses against my inner thighs. The tips almost brushed against my crotch, each step like a feather dancing against my flesh. And it did not serve me well. I could see him standing on the embankment. Shirtless and long hair blowing in the warm breeze. I felt my stomach tie itself in knots over the sight of him, feeling as if the grass itself was inviting me to arousal as I walked towards him.

"Are you nervous?" Jolene asked, her hand still clutched firmly in the curl of my own. "I'm real nervous."

"Just stay close by." I soothed, "Don't leave my side, and we'll be just fine."

There were pockets of people dotted up and down the tree lined incline. Some were splashing around in the creek bed, where it met a wide opening that created a shallow pool, others were bathing in the sunshine. An array of colourful bathing suits on display. It was hot. The sort of hot where everything felt sticky and wet. There were balls and frisbee's being tossed around. Music playing from a boom box hanging from a broken tree branch. Beers sitting in coolers. Cigarettes and a sense that perhaps I'd bitten off more than I was willing to chew.

They were all there. All three of them and their sister, sitting in folding chairs and on blankets dotted around the clearing next to the water. There were a few faces I didn't recognise, too. Friends, no doubt. I didn't know where to look. It felt as if perhaps we were intruding, on account of the fact we weren't dressed appropriately for the occasion. We didn't even own bathing suits. It was apparent that we'd made a mistake.

Everyone was staring at us. Eyes boring into us as we approached. Jolene's hand squeezed mine. A silent plea for whatever we had walked into to stop feeling like a trap. Why did it feel as if I was feeding not only her, but myself to the wolves? They appraised us like creatures who belonged in a zoo. Eyes widened and sun shades slipped down their noses to get a better look at the Jones sisters.

"You came." Jake said breezily, greeting us at the edge of his little pocket. "I didn't think you would."

It was still in my mind to turn around and head back. But there was something in the way he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand that made me willing to stay.

"You said to come." I hedged, every inch of me burning from the curious stares.

He was wearing a pair of denim shorts, cut at the knee. With a waist band so low I could make out the edge of whatever he had on underneath. With his body on unapologetic display, I didn't know where to politely look. There was only his eyes that could have accepted my gaze appropriately. And they were so intense I could feel myself wanting to back off.

"I did." He agreed, "And here you are. Let's get you introduced."

We accepted the seats we were offered. But declined the beers. Jolene sheepishly grinned as names were thrown at us and I tried so hard to commit them to memory. There was the Kiszka's; Jake, Josh, Sam and Ronnie. Danny Wagner and another friend from school, Lewis Dinsmore. Who's poor sister was stuck on a date with our unbearable brother. I was grateful for it, regardless. It provided an initial talking point which ingratiated us into the group, enabling me to calm my nerves as I sat there trying to act as if I didn't feel like a duck out of water.

"So, Bonnie. Are you a senior or did you graduate?" Ronnie Kiszka asked, hands on her hips as she supped on a bottle of beer and eyed the length of my dress.

"Umm, I graduated." I replied, "At our last school, in Ohio."

"So, what's the plan? College?" She continued, her questions posed innocently enough. But I felt like I was under the microscope. "I'm going to Michigan State in the fall."

"Oh, that's great." I tried to keep my voice steady and casual. "I'd love to go to college, but I'm needed at home to help my Mom."

Josh was sitting on a blanket, resting on his palms with his chin tilted up towards the sky. Languishing in a similar state of undress as his brother.

"Oh, is she sick or something?" He asked, pushing his shades up into his mess of curls as he looked over at me.

"No." I replied, looking down into my lap. "No, nothing like that..."

Jolene was more than happy to answer their questions. The intrusion didn't seem to phase her, she lapped up the attention like a neglected pup as I sat there wondering what they must have thought of us. Uncomfortable at the idea of it. Of them knowing our Dad would keep us at home rather that receiving a college education. That we were supposed to be somewhere else, and I wondered if any of them would know to keep our being there under wraps.

I couldn't hide my disdain. I smiled and nodded where required, but offered nothing in the way of conversation. I sat in the shadows whilst my sister took the reigns. Her desire to be part of something beyond our house was being fed to bursting and I could see the colour rise in her cheeks the more they enquired. Especially when Sam addressed her directly, their eyes finding each other in undeniable attraction. And all I could do was witness it unfold, hoping that my silence wasn't being mistaken for ill manners.

"You wanna get out of here?"

I looked up. Jake was standing at my feet, his hand extended for me to take.

"I probably shouldn't leave Jolene." I fretted, seeing how much she didn't need me.

"Probably shouldn't." He echoed, keeping his hand firmly offered. "Or is it because you're afraid of what might happen if you do?"

He'd been so kind. So humble. Introducing us to his friends and family. Like we weren't the spectacle we'd been when we first arrived. He'd been hospitable. Making jokes and including us in them. He'd made me laugh. Not just a giggle, but from my belly upwards. Making me radiate a smile that had been hidden for so long I hadn't even known I could smile like that.

"Afraid, of what?" I asked, although I suspected it was what he'd wanted.

He didn't say it out loud. There was only a hint of it in the way he curled his fingers up and urged me to go with him. I thought, perhaps, that he could see my uncertainty etched there in my face as I tried to fit in. All the things I wouldn't confess to. That I was afraid I'd spend my whole life never knowing what it truly felt like to be adored. Afraid that I'd always be a vessel for thoughts and feelings that would never be allowed to be expressed. Afraid that I'd never get to explore what it meant to be a woman. Fears that seemed to go unspoken. And yet, he heard me.

Jolene was sat with her chair practically on top of Sam's. Their heads bowed together in a conversation nobody else was invited to. I could see his hand edging towards coming to rest upon her knee, but he kept graciously stopping himself. Peering into her eyes instead, letting her ramble on about nothing in particular. Enchanted by her. And she, in turn, seemed entirely smitten with him. Blushing every time he tucked his hair behind his ear. Every time he threw his head back and let out the most infectious laugh I'd ever heard. He was being gentle with her.

"Come on." Jake said, "I know a spot we can go to."

Nobody seemed to care as he took one of the blankets and began to lead me away. Jolene looked over, silently watching as he took my hand. Too afraid that if she made a comment she would break the spell between her and Sam. I tried not to think too hard about it, grateful that people had finally gotten bored with our presence.

I would have let him take me anywhere. It felt like a sonnet that hadn't been written yet. The way he held my hand so casually, leading me back into the tall grass. All I could do was watch the way his hair moved in the breeze. Dancing against his flexing shoulder blades. His hips moving gracefully as he stepped between the long blades, blanket tucked under his free arm. The afternoon sun was beating down so hard, my cheeks began to burn. Grateful when he finally led me to a shaded area of tree's a little further down the creek where nobody else had bothered to venture.

I watched him as he laid the blanket down, flattening the grass and making sure we were shrouded by it. Inviting me to sit with him, the sound of flowing water and leaves moving in the dull wind as our soundtrack.

"You ever just lay in the grass and look up at the clouds?" He asked, rolling onto his back and placing arms behind his head.

I wrapped the hem of my dress around my knee's, conscious of the breeze as I laid down beside him. Through the canopy of the tree's around us, I could see wisps of cloud moving slowly against the brilliant blue.

"Not since I was a little kid." I replied, trying to remember the last time I'd done anything quite like this.

He was quiet for a brief moment. But it didn't feel like it needed to be filled.

"I hope you didn't get in any trouble yesterday. I don't think anyone saw me talking to you." He said, pulling out a small bottle of something honey coloured out of his pocket. "Sometimes people can't see what's happening right under their noses."

There was a flash of something in his grin as he lifted his head to take a swig, offering me some before dashing it onto the blanket at his side when I declined. I liked the way his side profile looked as I turned my head to look at him. There was something about the way his nose pointed at the tip, the way his mouth had the most enigmatic curl at the corners. It was obvious that he hadn't brushed his hair that day, but it didn't matter. It only served to suit him well.

I started to feel as if I could climb on top of him. The way he laid there, the muscles in his arms flexed as he laid them behind his head. I'd never been close enough to ever drink him in. I tried to commit to memory all the little nuances that were entirely him, knowing that I'd think of him later in more detail than I ever had before. It made me nervous.

"Clever." I surmised, impressed by his critical thinking. "Do you often do things right under people's noses?"

He smirked and turned his head, knocking me off my steady perch and into a panicked mess as his eyes met mine. I didn't dare look away. I didn't want to make the obviousness of my gaze even more obvious. I hoped that he couldn't tell I could hear the great whoosh of my own pulse when he looked at me. But I suspected that he did, letting his eyes fall down the rest of my body before coiling back up.

"Not everything." He damn near whispered, leaning up to rest on his forearm. "Some things I prefer to do where no one else can see."

It was getting hotter. The air felt warm in my lungs as I breathed. Even in the shade, it was sticky and sweltering. My dress was becoming increasingly drenched, beads of sweat pooling between my breasts. He was glistening in the sun light, his neck saturated as sweat ran down the peak of his adam's apple. Both of us tangibly giving in to the impetuous heat.

"Like what?" I asked, reaching for the bottle to quench a dry thirst that was forming in my mouth.

It tasted like fire. Did nothing to alleviate the dryness, only served to almost choke me and make me cough. Much to his delight as he placed a hand to my back and waited until I'd composed myself before offering his arm for me to lay against as I sank back down.

"Wouldn't want your Daddy catching us here, like this. Would you?" He asked, the sweat of his arm sliding against the back of my neck. "Wouldn't want anyone catching us here like this. I like being here, with you, just the two of us."

The weight of what was transpiring between us almost felt too heavy to bear. I could feel it, travelling up and down my body in waves of undulated panic and arousal. He wouldn't stop staring at me. Making it harder for me to deny myself.

"I like it too." I confessed quietly, allowing him to curl his arm up, making me inch closer to his face.

All the hours of wonder couldn't have stood up to the reality of him. The sweet and gentle nature of him coveting me, with nothing more than a simple gaze and the support of his arm beneath me. He made no attempt to touch me further, and I almost felt like begging him would have ruined the moment.

"Don't you get lonely up there sometimes?" He asked, grazing his bottom lip between perfectly set teeth. "I see your face sometimes and I can't stand the way you look so sad."

Oh, he'd noticed. My heart soared and broke all at once. That he had known not only that I existed, but taken the time to notice my mood made me feel as if our lives were not merely shadows.

"Not lonely." I shrugged, settling on a different word. "Perhaps, sometimes, it's a little melancholy."

He wrinkled his nose and thought about it. Reaching for a blade of grass behind him and ripping it from the ground in order to satisfy his need to keep his hands busy.

"If you were mine I'd never want to see anything but a smile on that pretty face of yours forever more." He said, running the blade of grass against my cheek playfully.

I shrank away. The sensation of it too intimate for me to appropriately deal with. I giggled, but my unease was there in the way my eyes couldn't settle back on him.

"I'm sorry." He apologised, throwing down the grass and trying to settle the vibe between us back into something a little more innocent.

But it was too late. I could feel a familiar throb begin to beat away between my thighs. Latent misery in being unable to satisfy my desires kept me tethered to the blanket, unable to confess that I wanted him to do it again.

"Don't be sorry." Was all I could say, a little more passionately than I'd intended. "I'm just...well, I'm no good at this sort of thing."

He seemed to go quiet all over again. Looking down at our bodies side by side. Swallowing so hard I could see his throat flex. Like he, too, was lost in a sea of words he so desperately wanted to say but couldn't.

"You're not like the other girls." He gulped, pointing out one of my deepest flaws. "I don't want you to be like the other girls. They aren't worth the risk like you are."

How could he have known my worth? Beneath that starry eyed exterior, was he just as nervous as I was? It seemed to me that he could scarcely hold himself back as his eyes moved between my lips and my gaze. Flitting up and down as if in conflict.

"All I've ever wanted was to be like the other girls." I sighed, noticing for the first time that he had moved closer. "Other girls get to be taken out on dates and have doors opened for them. And have goodnight kisses."

The subtle shake of his head intimated that none of that mattered.

"Other girls don't write their name for me in notes I can only see from my window." He said earnestly. "Other girls don't drive me crazy every time I see them come out of their front door on a Sunday morning wearing those pretty little dresses."

I felt like I'd fallen asleep and I'd woken in a dream. I could smell the liquor on his breath he lingered so close. The heat of the day dissipating as the heat of his body took over.

"Other girls don't make me write songs for them, before I've ever even spoken to them..." He stopped, right before his lips would trespass against mine.

"You...wrote a song...for me?" I breathed into his mouth, fingertips digging into the blanket folds at either side of my stilled body.

"For a good Christian girl, you sure do make me feel damned." He posed, speaking with his lips a feather light touch away from mine. "Damned to write songs for a girl I can't ever have."

Was it not enough that I dwelled beneath his touch? Whatever madness made him think he could not have me, I wished for such a fallacy to be gone from his mind. If God had put the attraction that was so palpably clear between us within our hearts, why would God punish us for acting upon it?

True. I was a little apprehensive. Not for the punishment of God, but from a Father who truly believed his word and actions stemmed directly from the all seeing eye above. But, like Jake had already so pointedly said, we were here alone. Just the two of us. No other man nor God in sight.

"Have me." I whispered.

I heard him hold in his breath. Already so close to my mouth, all he had to do was let it happen. Nobody was ever free from temptation, and I was sordidly aware of my need to walk directly into it's aching path.

If God truly did exist somewhere between this mortal coil and the thereafter, I believed that he would not blindly lead me to be tempted beyond my ability. That I may be able to endure it. My spirit and my body in unison for the very first time.

"You would hate me if I did." He whispered back, "I'm wicked, Bonnie. So much more wicked than you could ever imagine."

I didn't believe that anyone quite so beautiful as him could ever truly be wicked. Perhaps wicked in the ways that only brought pleasure, if you were so inclined to allow yourself to enter into that sort of thing.

Was I? That sort of person? He was only two years older than me but exuded an experience which far surpassed mine. Even with his boyish charm and child like nature, he was a man nonetheless. A man that held me in his arms on a hot summer day with the wind chiming through the leaves above us and the softness of the ever trickling water as it ran over rock and earth.

Heaven.

"I ache to know wickedness." I pleaded, feeling insanity wash over me as he still refused to kiss me. "It's not for anyone else to decide."

That one sentence brought him to his conclusion. I could see it there as his brow knitted together delicately, his gaze intensifying.

"You don't know what you've done."

Perhaps not. But I didn't have space for regret. Not when he let our worlds collide. At first, there was nothing but the gentle feel of his lips as they brushed against mine. Softly venturing, exploring what depths he could take with me. A solemn pull back as he checked in with me, I could feel his hand against my balmy cheek. Alabaster turning pink as the blood began to pump harder in my veins. I was breathless without even having to move.

When he'd ascertained that I wanted it, he returned to me. Pressing his lips against mine a little harder. Letting his head tilt to the side, our noses pressed flush into each others cheeks.

I don't know what it was that I expected. Certainly not the rush of adrenaline as he opened his mouth. Nor the moisture gathering between my legs that was certainly not due to the weather as I felt the slippery tip of his tongue converge into my mouth. It was soft and slow, only brushing against mine with subtle intimation that he wanted more.

I suspected that this was purposeful. Nobody had watched us as closely as he had and not drawn the conclusion that I had never been kissed before. I suspected that he knew this was my first time. And he treated it as such. Sweeping his thumb against my cheek bone, letting me whimper softly into his mouth as he pulled away only to slake his hand around the back of my neck and pull me up into an embrace that had more meaning behind it.

And then he stopped. Forehead rested against mine, breathless and lips drenched in each other. He didn't let me go, clutched me harder in fact. Made me wonder if patience truly was a virtue.

"I have thought about this moment over and over." He swallowed, kissing me again so briefly I barely had time to reciprocate before he'd pulled away again. "And always, I'm painfully aware of your virginity. I don't want to hurt you, Bonnie."

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was something else. I let my knees unfold, the hem of my dress crawling up my thighs. Immediately I was aware of just how tightly I'd been clenching them, my body immediately softening in his grasp.

"Take it." I offered. "It is yours."

He would have it. Retrieving his senses at the shock of such a thing, he ran a gentle palm down my stomach and his hand came to rest at my waist.

"You're not a good Christian girl at all, are you?" He ventured, kissing me with a little more fervence.

Although the presumption was made based on my willingness to part with my virginity and give it up to him, I knew I'd been a sinner for far longer than I cared to admit. My thoughts had been impure before we moved to Beech Run. The levels of depravity increasing ever since Jake had made his presence known. I wasn't a good Christian girl at all. Not behind closed doors. Not anywhere where thoughts were free.

"I've committed all manner of sins in my mind." I replied honestly, my tongue lilting against my teeth, prepared for another kiss. "Wouldn't you? If you couldn't do anything? Have anything?! Wouldn't you imagine what it felt like?"

"Oh, I would." He replied, licking into my mouth with all the urgency of a man who had been granted his greatest wish. "But I don't want you to imagine anymore. I want to give you everything you've ever wanted."

He laid me back down. Sinfully slow. Taking in the sight of me, hair fanned out on the blanket and my lips swollen. My breasts sitting comfortably beneath a modest neckline, my sun dress being something I would have worn to church. Wondering if he felt the same fear that I did.

"Give it to me, then." There it was, that little beg that had been threatening to spill out of my mouth ever since he'd put the blanket down.

His hand travelled further south. Parting my knees. He ripped another blade of grass and settled it between his thumb and index. Teasing it above my face in the air, making me nuzzle into his chest as I tried to run from it.

But he didn't run it against my cheek. I soon realised it was for a far more nefarious purpose. I dared to peek out from his embrace. A look of total devotion there as he swept the blade up my inner thigh. The almost breath like touch of it reminded me of how it had felt as I'd walked towards him. I held my breath. My dress sat just below where my underwear could be seen, everything else on display. And he unashamedly caressed me, using the blade as his guide.

"Soft little babygirl." He crooned, "It'd be almost cruel to ruin you."

I didn't need his protection from it. The inflection of annoyance at his suggestion that my virginity was something I wanted to keep was hard to hide. My expressions betraying me as I looked up at him.

"Lucky for you, I can be cruel." He added, marking his territory on my heart. "Would you like me to be cruel?"

"If the devil so wishes." I replied, "I fear I'm already ruined by my own intrusive thoughts."

The tip of the blade ran down the fabric which sat between it and my naked flesh. At it's most vulnerable spot.

"You don't have to be virtuous with me. Not anymore." He promised, "I'm not your Daddy."

It was clear invitation to step into my desires.

"Tell me I'm a good girl, Jake." I needed it. "You can be as cruel as you like, just tell me I'm good."

I don't know why I needed to hear it. Maybe there was a part of me that still dwelled in the church where I needed to be holy in order to exist.

His eyes widened at my demand. Staring at me, like I was Jesus on the cross and he had come to worship. He let the blade of grass go. Preferring to run his hand up my thigh instead. I shuddered. Let my lip curl into my teeth. Never taking my eyes off him as he brushed a fingertip against my moist crotch.

"Such a good fucking girl." Partnered with the curse word, his praise left me bound to him. "Does my good little girl want to get fucked?"

The abruptness of his question left me open mouthed. I wasn't shocked because it offended me, I was shocked because the answer was an unequivocable yes. They way he claimed me with that one, solitary use of the word my left me dizzy. Of course I was his. And all I could do was nod my consent.

"You tell me you're innocent and beg to get fucked with the same mouth." He breathed against my lips, hooking a solitary finger around the fabric of my panties, his knuckle brushing against my slit. "That's my extra specially good girl, isn't it?"

He was playing with me. Strumming me like his guitar, like a song written just about me. Pulling down my underwear until they sat at my knees, I was completely at his whim.

"I'm not going to fuck you, though." He said softly, raking those same calloused fingertips that had held my face as he kissed me through the sodden valley of my pussy lips. "Not yet."

I knew it was futile to beg. Not when he so gently and pliantly planed his fingers down the edges of what I could tolerate. He would bring me to the brink and tell me it was what I needed. Dancing with the devil, my sinful thoughts brought to light. I'd never been happier than I was right there on that blanket in the tall grass. In the shade of the grove of tree's that surrounded us, in the hottest summer I'd ever recall.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He said, leaning back into a kiss that was now familiar, his tongue edging into my mouth enough to send a flood onto his fingertips. "You tempt me so..."

"Anything, Jake." I breathed, "Anything you want, just tell me what to do."

He softly ran the pad of his thumb over my aching, swollen clitoris. I moaned, let my eyes close, turned my face away in fear that I would look ridiculous to him. I'd never dared to venture to that part of myself before. Letting the throb ebb and flow whenever I was aroused, never allowing myself a moment to indulge in it.

"Pull my zipper down." He instructed, rutting his hip into my side. "It's kinda uncomfortable down there."

In the furore of him touching me, I'd failed to notice his maddening bulge. I felt foolish and girlish, stupid for not realising he was aroused too. My hand wasted no time in releasing him. Pulling down his zipper and opening the button of his denim shorts. I didn't dare put my hand inside, still feeling a little trepidation of touching him back. But the relief was there as he eyes rolled back, grateful just to be free of the constraints against his hard on.

"I want so badly to sink my fingers inside you and ruin this pretty little pink thing." He murmured against my ear. "Tell me it's ok. Tell me I can feel you from the inside."

I couldn't bear it. The need to be penetrated coupled with the fear of whatever pain might accompany it. But he was too beautiful to deny. The tip of his nose pressed against my cheek, his breath warm and like fire.

"I'm ready." I replied, even if my mind had not been quite up to speed with my body, I still would have let him have his way.

Not simply because of the way he turned me on. But the way he made me feel so cherished whilst doing it.

"Relax for me, sweet girl." He whispered, lips pecking kisses against my temple, hands opening my thighs a little wider. "Just let me take care of you."

The sting of a single digit cast aspersions throughout my body. He was slow in his intention, hissing back a soft moan as he let it slide all the way to his knuckle. I fought against my body's responses to cry out in pain. It hurt. But everything else was a welcome distraction. His voice. His scent. The feel of his body next to mine. All of it.

"Look at you." He praised, railing his kisses back down to my mouth. "The goodest of all girls."

He began to slowly pull it back, savouring the way my mouth opened at the sensation of him sliding it back inside. He didn't attempt to add more fingers, or ruin me the way he'd promised. He simply enjoyed the way I felt. The way I showed him my devotion in simpering moans and errant panting. His middle finger buried deep inside, palm pressed against my wet clit. Completely at his mercy.

"You've bewitched me, Bonnie." He confessed in soft whispers, "With your tight little innocent pussy. And that fucking smile, I can't stay away from you..."

No church girl could ever do witchcraft any justice. But I believed him.

"Then don't" I urged, not knowing what it would mean when the time would come for us to pick up this blanket and leave.

"Never..." He buried his tongue into my mouth, venturing deeper than he had before. "Will you cum for me, pretty little sweet thing?"

I didn't know what he meant. And I wouldn't spoil whatever spell I had managed to weave by asking him. If I were a flower I could feel my petals begin to wilt and fall. How could I tell him that I didn't know what he asked of me? I didn't want him to stop until I was completely deflowered. And whatever it was that he meant by cum, I hoped that I could do it for him.

"Anything...anything you want." I moaned, louder, arching my back to feel his fingertips deeper.

"That's it, oh, you're close..." He said, curling his finger up inside me, in a beckoning motion that almost sent me over the precipice. "You'll know when you get there, my little Ingenué."

His use of another language was unexpected. And his face said it all as I bashfully smiled into another insatiable kiss. He was right, though. I did know when I arrived. There was nothing about it that was anything I could have expected. With no knowledge that such a thing even existed, I was ebbed towards it like I was blind and seeing for the very first time.

At first it was like a muffled song I could hear from another room. The melody was there, I just couldn't pick up the lyrics. All I could see was those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his with the dark circles beneath watching me in wonder as it cascaded over me. The song no longer muffled, the crescendo of a great symphony in my eyes as I finished against his palm. The way he looked so satisfied letting me know that I'd done good.

"Ssssh...sssshhh..." He soothed, "It's ok sweet girl, I promise...it's ok."

I didn't know that there were tears falling down my cheeks until I tasted the salt of them on my lips. The sweet relief of something I hadn't known I'd needed filling me up from the soul upwards. He slipped his finger out and pulled up my panties, making sure that I wasn't hurt.

"I feel so foolish..." I cried, "How could you want me? When I'm like this?"

"It's because of this that I want you." He reassured me, grabbing the length of his aching cock beneath his boxer shorts and adjusting himself to a more comfortable position. "Don't you get it? It turns me on. The thought of nobody before me. That you'd be mine, entirely. And I can promise you here and now, I will protect you no matter the cost."

I couldn't wrap my head around what the cost might be. Only the way he didn't expect me to touch him back in that moment. He started to soften eventually as we laid there together, his hand running gentle strokes through my hair as I calmed. And he tucked himself away, promising that he would save it for another time.

The afternoon was growing late as we packed up and sorrowfully left our quiet little spot. The grass where we had laid all flattened in the perfect shape of where our blanket had been. A sorry reminder that the moment had fleetingly passed. I kept catching his eye as he tucked it underneath his arm, and he reached out to take my hand again.

"What now?" I asked.

"I don't know." He replied, with equal sadness. "But something tells me it'll be worth it."

We walked back in contemplative silence. Content just to be together a few more moments until it would be cruelly snatched from us. I could see that some of the crowds had already begun to disperse as we headed towards the plunge pool. A little less heavy on the noise. I could see Josh and Danny standing by their little group, deep in conversation whilst Ronnie packed up the boom box and cooler. Lewis was idly folding chairs, stacking them up ready to be carried back to the road.

"Where the fuck did you guys go?" Josh asked, watching us approach hand in hand. "Was about to send out a search party. We might have to, if Sam and Jolene don't get back here soon."

I had no concept of the time. I could feel the coolness of late afternoon on my skin, where once it had burned. The sun was still beating down as earnestly as it had been, but it was a little further towards the west.

"Shit, what time is it?" I asked, bile rising in my throat as I began to wonder if Ben was waiting for us up by the gate.

"It's a quarter to six." Josh replied, shaking his wrist as he checked his watch. "Why?"

I let go of Jakes hand. Circling the area for a visual of my missing sister. I couldn't see her anywhere.

"No, no this can't be happening...Ben will be here to pick us up in fifteen minutes..." I panicked, visibly shaking as I ran down towards the creek edge.

I called out her name. But there was no reply.

To be Continued...

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.

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@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

[syn4k]

i am at my grandparents' house, refilling a water tumbler (i didn't bring mine with me so i borrowed one of theirs). it has text and a design on the front that i havent been paying much attention to. i idly start to read it while filling it up. i pause.

"poppy [nickname for my mother's father]," i say, "does nonny [his wife and my mom's mom] like taylor swift?"

nonny is talking on the phone. my grandfather just shrugs. "she talks fast, sure."

i shake my head. "no i mean, taylor swift is a musician. does she like her music?"

nonny shakes her head and rolls her eyes at poppy, indicating that he was the one that bought the tumbler FOR her. i blink a little bit because my grandfather is a kind, God-fearing man who was a pastor for most of his life and spends most of his time nowadays fixing old machinery and reselling it, as well as helping his neighbors with their cars despite the fact that he has a bad back. i'm not entirely sure what his taste in music is, but he is one of the last people i'd expect who'd be a taylor swift fan, especially since he mostly just listens to the radio to my knowledge.

then again, i could totally be wrong, because my father also considers himself a casual taylor swift fan and he listens to all sorts of music.

i look at poppy again. "i picked that up at one of those stores where there's a bunch of stuff for five dollars," he says.

ah. "five below?" i ask.

"that's it!" i must have one hell of an expression on my face, because he continues. "i picked it up for your nonny because i saw it and thought the design was cute, and it said tea on it (my grandmother is famously Very Particular about her sweet tea)." he leans forwards a little bit to read the word. "what does that read, again?"

"swiftea," i say. "it's uh, fans of taylor swift's music call themselves that, though not spelled like that of course. and the books down there, the words on their spines are the names of her albums."

"oh, okay!" my grandfather nods thoughtfully and stands up. "do you mind if i take your car to the store?"

"go ahead." i sit down to process the fact that my grandfather unknowingly bought a Taylor Swift cup for his wife, neither of whom really listen to her music or even know about the word "Swiftie," simply because it looked cute and had a tea pun on it. i reflect that this is better for my brain than the alternative, however, which would be that my very rural grandfather (or grandmother, who is not that type of woman) is enough of a taylor swift fan to buy a piece of her merch. if that had been the case i think i would have had an aneurysm. the world sure is very strange sometimes but altogether beautiful and filled with joy and laughter

[myteavsricochet]

Latest fanfics read, part 6

(Part. 1) (Part. 2) (Part. 3) (Part. 4) (Part 5)

I Keep My Mouth Shut Tight (Cause I Don't Want To Lose What's Not Even Mine)

"Being affectionate, he has always used certain pet names with me. He’s called me sweetheart since we met, and I have used several in turn. That night he used a new one... I realised that he had woken me, saying it was time to take another dose of medicine. It was the way he said it, though: “Baby, I need you to wake up for me...” I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I whined pathetically at him calling me that, but he seemed to take it as protest that I didn’t want to wake, and not for what it really was—me absolutely losing my mind over that word coming out of his mouth and being directed at me. The cherry on top of it all was when he kissed me on the forehead and my brain promptly stopped working completely."

OR: At hit wits end, Henry decides to turn to reddit to ask the internet if his roommate likes him back, or if he's going insane. Then Nora intervenes.

Additional tags: Social Media, Ask reddit, Cute, Short & Sweet, Silly, Sharing a bad, Didn't know they were dating, Cuddling & Snuggling

It's Not a Secret

Henry is a boring person.

This is an objective fact. It’s been such a constant in his life that it hardly bothers him. He prefers the mundane. Thrives under routine. Tolerates many things poorly: surprise parties, capsaicin, loud noises.

Another objective fact: Henry loves Alex. Alex is not boring at all.

Unfortunately, everyone else in Henry’s life seems to think that a bore like him is incapable of a relationship like theirs— and, more distressingly, that this must mean that Alex simply doesn’t exist.

Or: Five times that no one believed that Henry and Alex were an item, and one time that they all did.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Director of Finance Henry Fox, tattoo artist alex claremont-diaz, Opposites Attract, Not actually a secret relationship, Misunderstandings, Developing Relationship, Sexual Content

in sickness and in health

Henry has a rather nasty cold, but June had her appendix removed, which means she wins. Because of her victory in the unwell olympics, Henry will stay in Texas while Alex flies to New York to visit his sister and the rest of their chosen family, something Henry desperately tries not to resent.

Additional tags: Slice of life, Sickfic, Married life

The Room Where It Happens

caged, Alex who he had never thought would be his, making himself at home, in a place Henry hasn’t thought of as home since his father died. It was simply a place he lived. His home was now sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off his socks.

----

Or, a trio of firsts.

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, First Time Bottoming, Angst, But not like Alex/Henry angst, Lonely Henry angst, Praise Kink

the way it is suddenly there, total and complete

As Alex falls in love with David, Henry falls even more impossibly in love with him, and their little family.

Or: Over the first year of their new life together, Alex fully commits to being a dog dad. Henry is his captive audience.

When I Get Going

“On a scale of one to ten,” Henry says softly, stepping closer to him and lowering his voice in a way that has Alex’s pulse jumping in his throat, his entire body aching to respond, “how far gone are you right now? One being ‘I could easily hold a conversation with the Queen’ and ten being ‘I’m genuinely surprised nobody’s noticed yet’.” Alex grits his teeth, but even the reminder of Henry’s nefarious grandmother can’t quell the arousal burning hotly in his stomach.

“Six,” he hisses, embarrassed and turned on, every molecule of him straining to reach out and pull Henry into something that will start off as a kiss, and end as anything but.

“Let me know when you get to eight,” Henry says firmly, then he just-

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PWP, Underwear, Coming In Pants, Orgasm Delay/Denial, delayed gratification, Control, Light Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Begging, Praise Kink, Henry is a fucking tease

crushed velvet

"In this brief moment of reprieve, Henry pants for breath, digging his fingers into the red material of the sofa to remind himself that this is, in fact, somehow real."

Or, movieverse couch blowjob missing scene.

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ficlet, Missing Scene, Blow Jobs, Skull Fucking, Simultaneous Orgasm, Coming In Pants

Comfort in the Backlight

For the prompt: "rainy day in the brownstone, fluff?"

Maybe sneakers weren’t the best choice of shoe for the day, Alex realizes as he shuts the front door behind him and grimaces at the quick puddle forming beneath him.

you are my medicine (when you're close to me)

After one last peck, Henry finally pulls away, leaving a sore spot of hollowness where his touch had filled it before. Alex forces his face to stay even– he doesn’t want his boyfriend to feel guilty for doing what he needs to do, doesn’t want to feed into the assumption that Alex is helpless without him.

Doesn’t want to be another obligation in Henry’s life that will one day grow to be too much to shoulder.

When the door falls shut, leaving Alex alone with a house that is much too empty and silent without his family there, there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t quite swallow. He thinks of Nora, making jokes that Henry is a saint for putting up with him during exam season; he thinks of June who uprooted her entire life to take care of him during college– and finally, he thinks of Henry, gentle and perfect Henry, that has had to worry about others way too much in his life– and a stinging sense of dread settles over him.

-

Or, Alex's no good horrible very bad two weeks without Henry.

Additional Tags: Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Long-Distance Relationship, Mental Health Issues, Established Relationship

Smile, You're on Camera

"Baby," Alex manages, and Henry groans in response, grazing his earlobe with his teeth. Alex bites his lip his stifle his own whimper. "H, hang on."

Henry pulls away from his assault on his neck, face flushed, chest heaving. "What's — what's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetheart, nothing," Alex soothes, placing both hands on Henry's shoulders. "I just — do you wanna do it? Now?"

Henry blinks owlishly. Alex watches as the realization slowly dawns on him, and he turns his head to look at the camera. He stares for a moment, then looks back at Alex and says, "Can you bring it closer?"

Or, Alex and Henry film a sex tape.

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Tapes, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, in a sexy way not a sad way, Switching, Sub Top Alex

no bunny compares to you

Henry is a lot of things as a person and while much of his personality transfers over to his bunny form, his physical attributes do not. Most notably, his size.

Where Alex’s boyfriend stands tall and regal, his furry counterpart is small and fluffy, unable to summit even the most minor of obstacles.

Take their sofa, for one. Alex is watching TV and minding his own business, when he hears a steady thump from just below him. Peering over the edge of the dark cushion, he spots his boyfriend angrily pounding his back foot against the carpet.

“Ha! Is my little bun too tiny to get up here on his own?” Alex teases. He’s promptly rewarded with a whisker twitch followed by a nose scrunch. Henry is pouting and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

--

or, five times Henry shapeshifts for himself and one time he does it for Alex

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Magical Realism, 5+1 Things, Bunny Henry, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Shapeshifting, Idiots in Love, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Protective Alex Claremont-Diaz, Soft Boys, Henry Has Bad Days

[lostinvasileios]

im sorry if i sound insecure or something but have you ever been in a place where you couldnt explain your relationship or practice to people that much because you dont have the words for it? like i want to tell someone about how much i love my deities but i cant really describe anything about why i do or something without feeling sort of stupid because i cant phrase it right, does that make sense? im sorry if thats hard to understand

Greetings, love bee!! ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. Thank you for sending in your ask. 💛🌷

So, yes, actually. I have. I actually still feel that way. In my own journey, that's been a feeling I've had pretty much the entire time. My emotions always felt so much more profound than my vocabulary could keep up with. No matter how many big and beautiful words I found, they never truly could capture the essence of it and I hated that for so long when I was beginning. Having urges to share the beauty you've gone through or whatever is normal during practicing.

But… That's not a bad thing, bee. As I've come to learn, that - only makes it more special. I get it can be annoying, but you don't owe anybody an explanation to anything about your path or things relating to it.

A thing I had to learn pretty quickly (like 6-7 months into my practice) was that... Your path isn't really... Meant to be understood by anybody else other than you. I mean, this is what mine is like at least. I can't truly immerse anyone into what my life is like or has been like with my deities, because they won't be able to remember it the way I can. They can't feel the exact, or most likely even similar, emotions I did - in the way I did - because... It didn't happen for them. My deities said that to me, they showed that to me, they did this and that for/to me. Just as, their deities did that for them and they got to experience things I did not and probably won't.

Now, there are of course times where I or you will find others who can relate on certain levels, swap stories and see the similarities, and so forth. However, you two can give each other as many details as you can muster and as basically humanly possible, but - at the end of the day... That experience is yours alone. Their experience, is theirs alone.

And that's - beautiful to me, honestly.

It really helps me realize just how - unique... How truly special this all is. There are details about my practice that nobody besides me and my deities will ever understand, and though I sometimes wish to share them with others - some things are simply meant to stay with the experiencer & those involved within the experience. Some things are just either not going to be well received, well understood, well liked, ect. Some things are just - safer with you and your deities. Which is why the saying "keep the personal details to yourself" exists within witchy communities.

Another thing is that languages as a whole can be very limiting even with all the beautiful words that you can find. Grammar rules too. Me and my deities often break things like language or grammar to better communicate, because - we understand each other. The meaning behind our made up words or complex grammar style, almost like our own language. You can try to mix up your own way of telling someone about your deities and the bond you have, the knowledge you've gained and the experiences or theories you have gotten over the time you've practiced, but, it might be confusing. And more than often, if someone is confused, they can get angry. They can begin to invalidate you. Ect.

But, at the same time, you're also entitled to speak about it even if little to nobody understands it. You're allowed to be confusing and make language whatever you need it to be to get your point across and satisfy those desires to share. If you want to, nobody's really stopping you. And, you might just meet someone who can understand certain extents, or be similar to you. That in itself is kind of why we even have religion or the knowledge of deities in the first place. Because someone went out and preached it, someone brave went and documented it for others to learn.

I think I yapped a bit here, sorry about that, bee, lol. Hopefully I made some form of sense here. Enjoy your path and may no evil follow you, loveling! 🤍🤍

[hyperfixationships]

Some thoughts on a non-romantic relationship as I rewatch 9-1-1 and cry hysterically:

Bobby Nash lost his WHOLE family. Lost his kids and his wife and he never once forgave himself for it. But he took one look at Buck and it was like, "Oh, that one. It's him. That's my son." He took one look at Buck and saw him. He noticed Buck struggling, he noticed Buck pain and being lost. And he didn't know why, and he kept his distance because of his own kids, but he still took care of him. He still did everything in his power to keep him safe and fight for him even when Buck made it hard. And Buck did make it hard in a way, (not because he's hard to love, but because he's convinced he's expendable, he's convinced he doesn't matter, he's self-destructive and hard to keep safe) but despite it all, Bobby cares. He saw this sad, broken mess of a boy and they clicked right away. It was like it was meant to be, despite Buck not being from him he was meant to find Bobby and be his kid. In any lifetime and in any universe.

And Buck? He is self-destructive. He thinks his only worth is helping others, even if it's self-destructive and kills him. And who did that to him besides Margaret and Phillip? Who treated him like he was expendable, who only had him to save their other child and it failed. He was born to save others and it's all he can do now.

(Oh, you want to know why I'm in therapy? It's because I have spent my entire life feeling like a constant disappointment. You want to talk about our jobs? You think my job is dangerous? I have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you! That is why I'm in therapy because nothing I ever did was good enough!

We tried but you always-you never made it easy on us! Either one of you!

We were supposed to? We were kids!

Evan, I don't know what you expected us to do!

Love me anyway)

Buck is self-destructive, and kind and will help anyone he can, even if he goes about it the wrong way. Buck has been made to feel small and useless if he's not saving others even if it kills him and Bobby sees that. Buck has the mentality of a teenager and will do anything and everything for attention. Who desperately wants to be loved and cared for, but no one ever stays. And Bobby? He stayed and he fought for him and he cares. Bobby sees a hurt kid who is so easy to love despite Bucks' flaws. Bobby notices the flaws and hurt but loves him anyway. Even if Bobby sometimes handles Buck's tendencies the wrong way. Buck gave up on a family a long time ago, but Bobby gives him one. He gives him the 118 and himself and Athena. Bobby sees this abandoned boy and thinks, "Yes, this one is mine." And Buck doesn't fully process that he will always have Bobby. (Even after the lawsuit. When Buck was convinced Bobby was abandoning him, Bobby was terrified of losing him. He was trying to protect his son.) Bobby gives him Hen, Chimney, Eddie, and Athena. He lets him into his home when it's the 118 and when Bobby moves in with Athena, Athena gives him a home. Athena knows Buck is theirs and gives him a place to go whenever he needs. Bobby and Athena see through him and love him anyway. They're hell-bent on showing him, "We see your flaws, we see how hurt and angry you are and we love you anyway." And Buck doesn't always know how to handle it. He thinks he's expendable, like he doesn't matter if he's not saving others. And Bobby? No matter how angry Buck makes him, he forgives him always. He loves him despite it all. Bobby who rushed to the hospital despite his frustration when he thought Buck was hurt. Bobby lets Buck control the pace of their relationship, Bobby who is patient loving and will always help his son when he can. Bobby is hard on Buck, because he cares. Bobby doesn't want to lose another kid. Bobby who makes Buck one of his lucky numbers.

(Mom brought two kids into this marriage, you brought one.)

Buck isn't used to being fought for, loved or cared for. And Bobby knows that. Bobby will always have a home for him and will always love him despite everything. And Bobby will always love him, and Buck is learning that. Buck is learning that Bobby loves him even when he's angry and lashing out. They'll always find their way back to each other because they're a parent and child. No matter how old Buck is. The whole 118 is Bobby's family, the first one since his died. But Buck? Buck is his son, and nothing can beat that. And everyone will always know that. And Buck? Buck helped teach Bobby to trusting open again. He taught him it's okay to have a family again. And Bobby needed that. Bobby saw a kid lost and adrift with a terrible family and wants to help, but feels so guilty. But Buck helps hold and support him when Bobby relapses but sees a dad in him anyways. And Bobby needed him just as much as Buck needed Bobby. They needed each other. They found a family in each other and found it.

[bridgyrose]

Penny defeats the Gods by confusing the crap out of them for being an entirely new form of creation.

(May or may not be what you were thinking for this)

Penny felt her soul start to pull as the God of Light seemed to look over her, almost as if he was trying to figure out what she was. Not like she knew anymore either. Portions of aura werent her own, pieces of Winter’s that stayed attached to hers even after being separated using the aura transfer machine. Even her father’s and Ruby’s auras seemed to be entangled with all of this. And then there was her body. No longer machine, but not exactly flesh and blood even if that was how she manifested herself. 

“You… arent one of mine,” the God of Light said as he pulled at Penny’s aura, twisting a piece of it like a loose thread. “And you arent one of my brother’s.” 

Penny took a nervous breath as her body started to tingle, almost as if she could feel her aura being unwound. “I was made by my father.” A shiver went down her spine as she felt an unfamiliar warmth in her chest, a warmth that shouldn’t have been there. “But I am a person now.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“I am-” 

“You are something… different.” The God of Light let go of Penny’s aura, letting it tangle back to her. “Your aura isnt natural, not like theirs.” 

Penny looked over to her friends as the God of Light motioned to them, frozen in time just like everything else around her. “It… it was an artificial aura.” 

“And one that you seemed to turn into your own, even though elements of others are still present. Now, tell me, what exactly are you?” 

“I-I am a person,” Penny said, her voice wavering as if she didnt believe what she was saying anymore. Ever since Ambrosius pulled her aura out of her mechanical body, there wasnt any certainty of what she was even if she knew that she was a person. And yet, even as the God of Light stood in front of her, she started to waver on if she truly believed what she was saying. “I… I am a real person.” 

“Are you?” the God of Light asked as she looked over her. “You’re not like them, something different that seems to defy the balance of life and death that I’ve created-” 

“A balance that you seem to break,” the God of Darkness spat out as he appeared next to his brother. 

“This one isnt my doing.” 

“But that one is,” the God of Darkness hissed as he pointed at Oscar. “A death you wouldnt let me bring back.” 

Penny took a step back as she watched the two gods argue, what she felt of a heart beating hard in her chest as she started to feel panic run through her. Her eyes glanced at her friends, locked in battle with Salem, waiting for the judgment the gods would give them once they finished arguing. She turned to face the gods once more, her voice quiet as she started to speak. “You… you broke the balance too.” 

The God of Darkness transformed into his dragon form as he turned to look at Penny, almost glaring as purple fire started to leave his mouth. “You stay out of this!” 

“You both broke the balance when you cursed Salem.” Penny’s voice shook as she took a small step back, watching as the God of Light transformed as well. “But you can both fix it. You can take away her curse, put Ozma to rest-” 

“And we’ll have to take you away to fix it too,” the God of Light spoke. “Once the balance has been restored, then humanity will be judged.” 

“Take me… away?” Penny asked. “You… you cannot take me away from my friends.” 

“You defile the balance like my brother has.” The God of Light reared up on his hind legs, a bright silver light starting to appear in his mouth, licking around like flame. “No one is allowed to cheat death.” 

Penny took another step back as she looked back at her friends, her heart starting to pound as she tried to calm herself once more. The thought of leaving her friends again pained her. Just as she was ready to accept her fate, she paused for a moment. “I… I am… proof the balance is not broken.” 

“Be quiet and accept-” 

“I want to hear her out,” the God of Darkness said as he stood in front of his brother. “Dont you?” 

The God of light lowered himself as the silver flames died down, glaring at Penny. “Speak before I change my mind.” 

“I-I am not human. I was… mechanical,” Penny started as she put a hand to her chest. “I died, but my soul was bound to my core and so I was rebuilt.” With a heavy sigh, she lowered her hand as she looked over towards her friends. “But after that, my life was in danger again. My friends tried to save me by pulling my soul away from my body and turning me into… this.  But even still, I was killed, the remains of me brought back. I… I am the embodiment of creation and destruction, I am proof that your balance has not been broken.” 

“She has a point,” the God of Darkness said as he went back to his humanoid form. “We can fix what you broke and leave them.” 

The God of Light transformed back, almost annoyed. “Fix what I broke? I didnt break-” 

“You were the one who brought Ozma back after you told me that I wasnt allowed to for Salem.” 

“She had asked me first and I told her no.” 

“And then you did anyway after we left this world.” The God of Darkness sighed and looked at Penny. “This world isnt ours anymore. We fix our mistake with Salem, put Ozma to rest, and leave her as proof that your balance isnt broken.”

The God of Light sighed and looked over at Salem, a bright light shining from his hand. “Then humanity has been judged as unworthy for us to live amongst.” 

Penny closed her eyes, raising her arm to protect herself as the silver light flooded around the castle, the unfamiliar warmth burning at her chest. Then, the warmth disappeared. She opened her eyes, arm shaking as she looked for the gods who were no longer in front of her. And as she saw her friends, still standing, time slowly unfreezing, her heart relaxed as she realized the gods were no longer a threat. 

[marichild]

#82 + fyozai? 👉👈 hehehe

ROSIE HELLO <3 ty for the ask I am insane about fyozai and had to break my brain a little to find a way to make this about fyozai LOL (fic ask game can be found here!)

#82: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu, & All-in by 6FU; (from Alien Stage)

A universe brimming with dreams

Who will remain standing

At the end of it all?

Don't you wanna know?

“I can’t help but think,” Fyodor says mildly, “that you’re up to something.”

“And you’d be absolutely right, of course, but that’s hardly new,” Dazai replies, stretching so that his head hangs upside-down off the couch arm. Sitting like an actual civilized person on the chair across the room, Fyodor raises an eyebrow at him. Dazai pouts. “I don’t want to give away the entire game this early in the game, Fyodor!”

“So you are planning something convoluted,” Fyodor says, mouth stretching into half a smile. “I’d wager that it has to do with the girl you picked up a month ago.”

“Well, obviously,” Dazai mumbles, slumping back down. It’s so strange to look at Gin and see a version of her that’s years younger than he remembers her. “What else would all this be for?”

Fyodor says, “aren’t you the little martyr, saving one girl and leaving the rest to die,” and Dazai nearly quips back, it’s better than a vampire plague, before he remembers that it’s years too soon for him to have a hint of that plot of theirs. Instead, he sits up and grins at them.

“Call it the goodness of my heart,” he beams. Fyodor sighs, but they’re smiling, regardless. Of course they know that Dazai does not do anything out of the goodness of his heart.

Dazai considers telling Fyodor about his plan—they’d believe him, for one thing, given they most certainly know a thing or two about singularities. They might even help him fine-tune it—

—if, from the very start, they hadn’t considered his fierce anger over Odasaku silly and a weakness he hasn’t been able to snip. In another life, Dazai hides out from both crime and the punishment to be doled out if the other side catches him and meets Fyodor on the sly, pretends not to care about their little comments regarding Odasaku and Ango; in this life, he prioritizes only one thing.

Across every universe, across multiple realities, this is the only one where he has a chance to save Odasaku. He only has one chance. One shot.

That’s why he grins and instead of giving away vital information that Fyodor will pick up on in a few years’ time, he tells them, “my plans always work out, you know. You’re going to have a hard time moving ahead with your world dominating. I have all the chess pieces in place.”

Fyodor is hardly fazed. “Oh, Dazai-kun,” they say, fond, amused, “you’re mistaken if you think you can stop me. My plans stretch so much farther than you can even conceive—and yet, you’re the only one who has a hope of untangling them.”

Dazai thinks of the vampire outbreak, of clinging to Chuuya in relief that the plan had worked, of nails digging into his skin in Meursault. Of an apple and a knife in the back.

Who’ll be left standing, in the end, when Dazai is gone?

“I’m so excited to see, Fedya,” he croons, “who the winner is.”

bonus lyrics:

We only get one life, so I'm living mine for me

Cause I'm the one from your wildest dreams

I'll create a fantasy in this crazy world

And change it all, I'm going all-in

Every obstacle in my way

I've crushed them all

Step all over me but I'll rise again

It's you who's in the wrong, bet you had no idea

[ourladyofomega]

So, @lysistra was nice enough to tag me to name four albums I’ve been listening to intensively in recent weeks (thank you!). It was a tough decision and I literally lost sleep over this, so everyone please be nice to me or I’ll never do this again.

And they are:

#1: Sweeping Promises: Good Living Is Coming For You. Their debut, Hunger For A Way Out, was an essential Pandemic Autumn jam and I was drawn to it because of the d.i.y.-ethos album cover. I listened to that album the most out of any others that season. Now this came out with very little heads-up and I reached for it immediately, effectively taking me back to those Pandemic feels. They stuck with the same post-punk-driven, Pylon-influenced formula and these ten songs come with a slightly dirty, muddy splash in their production values. There’s a few new tricks that vocalist Lira Mondal has tried out and they show. They’ve also retained that d.i.y. method of creating records throughout all of their projects and their entire discography. Still not enough? There’s the orphaned single “Pain Without A Touch” and their other just-as-awesome project Splitting Image. And look at this CMYK artwork?!

#2: Free Love: Luxury Hits. I’m elated to say that I’m the only one here amongst my mutuals who know about this Scottish electronic duo, and that started with Apero, a record that stamps my move into my current residency. Formerly Happy Meals (because they can’t be bothered naming themselves after cancerous toxicity), this married couple have that magic touch in their sound that no one else has. They have such a special soul that could take you to another world; one that could’ve possibly existed but per chance could be a reality. Luxury Hits contain two personal favorites / footnotes of mine: “Tomorrow Could Be Heaven”, one denoting an Autumn Sunday trip out to Greenpoint, and “Pushing Too Hard”, part of a soundtrack to a colorful and vivid but complicated Summer. The latter is a charmer thanks to Suzanne Rodden’s charismatic vocals, and any release of theirs is super high-resolution, sweet colors, and lush sounds. I still hope to keep Free Love as a personal gem only I can have to myself. Maybe not after you see this.

#3: Kontravoid: Too Deep. Whenever I’m not blasting hardcore music while busting my ass at the gym, I turn to synthwave instead. After hearing the electrically-charged sounds of Kontravoid, I’m becoming more a fan. This all started when Boy Harsher featured Kontra's-“Maskerade” on a one-and-done post and the rest was game over. The original full-length has some severe high-voltage bangers (“Turn Away”, “So It Seems v.2”) and some superior anthems included (“Too Deep”, “Cost Of Life”). If you’re headed for the remix album, go on right to Fractions’ version of “So It Seems”, then tell me that you didn’t lose your shit over it because it’s that crazy.

#4: Black Marble: A Different Arrangement. It’s Summer, and you know what that means: it’s time to reach for the record that one of my fellow dee-jays opened my eyes to. Black Marble gives me a elevated feeling of superiority thanks to not only its art direction but also its frigid beats and moderately warm but lush-as-heaven synth work. Chris Stewart’s project is so good that I saw them twice: one at Brooklyn’s Warsaw opening for Cold Cave, and closing out Sacred Bones’ 15th at Queens’ Knockout Center. Both amazing experiences. Bonus points for its’ Eighties sentiment which reminds me of Dead Or Alive’s “Brand New Lover”, and double that for being the soundtrack of me moving into a new neighborhood.

And…because I can’t settle for four albums, I’ll throw in a bonus:

#5: SpaceGhostPurrp: IntoXXXicated. Holy shit. Talk about a venomous Naga-grade pit-viper of a rap release. This has to be the most exotic bars mixtape I ever heard. If you’re looking for a good drugs, money, and sex record? Well...then here it is! It’s super hot.

This time, I will tag: @sibelin, @charliemonroe, @kate2, @tewzz, @aleprouswitch, @sheisthesisterofnight, @restwaerme, @misterwhirly, @maldoror-est-mort, @sclr, @justmakesuresheeatsthemouse, @chickenshit-conformist, @urban-hieroglyphs, @iamdangerace, @the-land-of-rape-and-honey, @testure-1988, @rivetgoth, @theonlycure, @sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face and anyone else who wants to play.