#two to three weeks of weather has just. sucked.

[darkwood-sleddog]

Between the constant thunderstorms and super hot/humid poor air quality from wildfire days I am VERY grateful to say Sigurd will walk in (non thundering) rain now.

[theosbaby]

sundress

theodore nott x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! you wear a new sundress to your date with theo, knowing that he loves them on you, and he cannot resist the temptation.

WARNINGS ! google translated italian, dom!theo, sub!reader, SMUT without a plot, public sex, praising, pet names, lots of kissing and groping, choking, neck grabbing, hair pulling, fingering, heavy dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink... overall, pure filth.

NOTES ! english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. "helping hand" has reached over a 1.000 notes, TYSM! i'm so happy! hope you enjoy this ♡

you were trying to hold back your playful giggles as theo pushed you inside the three broomsticks bathroom, his large hand covering your mouth to muffle your cute little laugh so that the rest of customers didn't hear you both sneaking into the ladies restroom.

'what had brought you two there?' you might be wondering... well, that's actually a really short story.

as every saturday, theo and you were in hogsmeade, having a date. it was may, the weather was warm and the sun was shining in the sky, so you had decided to put on a new sundress that your mother had bought you for your birthday a few weeks ago —knowing that theo loved seeing you in that kind of clothing.

the dress was white, with a flared skirt and a corseted body which ended in a low and flattering neckline. it made your body look stunning and theo had almost gone crazy when he saw you earlier; the soft fabric hugging your curves, bringing out the light tan of your skin... he had been literally drooling over you the entire date, and now, he couldn't hold back anymore: he needed to fuck you.

and he couldn't wait until you both were back at hogwarts.

he kicked the bathroom door shut behind you both while peppering kisses along your slender neck, gently sucking and biting your skin to mark you all over; at the same time, his hands groped your body almost desperately.

"you look so fucking beautiful today," theo whispered in your ear.

he tugged at your earlobe between his lips before turning you around to push you against the sink and you hissed when your body hit the cold hard marble kind of roughly.

you chuckled, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek as you tangled your fingers in his light brown curls, his hands grasping at your slim waist.

"just today?" you whispered back teasingly, looking up at him with a smirk on your red painted lips.

he chuckled lowly, pressing himself against you as he slipped his hands underneath the hem of your dress to run his hands over the smooth skin of your legs slowly, pulling the fabric up just enough to expose a sliver of bare thigh.

"always beautiful, but today... fuck," he muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours; the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, making you feel light-headed, "this bloody dress is driving me fucking crazy, cara mia."

"i knew you'd love it..." you couldn't help but giggle against his lips, giving gim a chaste peck before pulling back slightly. "i put in on just for you," you murmured, kissing his neck softly; your red lipstick left a faint stain on his flesh.

theodore smirked, his hands sliding up your thighs to cup your bare ass through the laced fabric of your panties.

"you're a fucking tease, do you know that?" he groaned before leaning in to claim your crimson lips in a scorching kiss.

your eyes fluttered shut, your body melting into his arms at the intimate contact, which made you gasp against his eager mouth. your lips brushed together in a mind-blowing dance while you ran your fingers through his soft hair absentmindedly.

theo broke the kiss just a moment later only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin as his fingers worked to lift your dress higher up, until it was pooling around your waist, his body still pinning you against the sink.

"i need you," he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire, "need to fuck you so badly, principessa."

you gasped once again when he pressed his hardening cock against your pelvis, grinding against you in slow motions. you grasped at the sink countertop, your head falling back as he placed wet kisses all the way down to your cleavage.

theo groaned at the sight of your perfect breasts almost spilling out of the neckline of your dress and his hand cupped one of them through the thin fabric, squeezing it tenderly.

"sei bellisima, amore mio," he muttered in italian, his lips pressing against yours hungrily once again. (you're beautiful, my love)

you whimpered into the kiss, feeling your wetness start to pool around in your panties as his thumb toyed with your perky nipple over your clothes until it hardened; your shuddered in his arms.

"theo, please," you stuttered into his lips, words coming out as broken sobs.

theo broke the kiss, his eyes darkening with lust as he looked down at you while his other hand slipped between your legs. his fingers traced along the damp fabric of your panties, feeling how wet you were for him.

"merlin... you're fucking soaked, principessa," he growled, his fingers teasingly brushing against your clit.

you moaned at his action, but quickly nipped at your plump bottom lip to try and hold back any sound that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone outside the bathroom to hear you... though the thrill of getting caught was indeed turning you on.

theo withdrew his hand and kneeled in front of you, fingers gripping at the waistband of your panties to slid them down your legs while he peppered wet kisses all over your belly and hip bones, slowly moving down.

"we have to make this quick, bella," he whispered, placing one last kiss at your smooth mound as he looked up at you with those deep set eyes of his. "but i promise i'll eat your pretty little pussy later on, yeah?"

the smirk he gave you while he stood up made you weak on your knees. he pulled you into a kiss, hands groping at your thighs and ass cheeks avidly as he practically devoured your mouth —at that point, your red lipstick was smudged all over your faces. he grabbed your wrist to guide your hand towards his crotch and you palmed him delicately, feeling his hard dick twitch at your touch.

theo groaned against your lips, breath hitching in his throat. his hand released your wrist and slid between your legs once more, this time slipping two digits inside of you, gently stretching your tight hole.

"fuck... so wet for me," he whispered against your mouth, teeth tugging at your already swollen bottom lip. "you're fucking dripping onto my fingers, principessa."

his free hand wrapped around your neck, choking you lightly while he moved his digits in and out of you in scissor motions to prepare you for his cock. you gasped for air, letting out a needy cry as you worked to unfasten his belt with shaky hands.

"need your cock, theo... please," you breathed out, cheeks flushed.

theo's hand released your neck, his fingers withdrawing from your pussy to help you slide his pants and boxers down; his throbbing cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach, and your mouth watered at the sight. after that, he grabbed your hips, turning your around and pushing you forward until you were bent over the countertop.

"keep your eyes on me, amore mio," he commanded, his voice rough.

he grasped your hair, tugging at it to pull your head back until your eyes met his on the mirror. his rough grip made you whine and you writhed when you felt the tip of his cock brushing along your slick folds, teasing you.

"theo, please," you whimpered desperately.

he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing inside while his free hand found purchase at your hip. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your tight heat welcoming him nearly overwhelming.

"so big, oh merlin," you whined at the stretch, letting out a little cry that echoed through the bathroom.

"oh fuck... I love being inside you," he murmured, his eyes piercing yours through the mirror. "che piccola figa così stretta... all fucking mine," he grunted, starting to pound into you. (such a tight little pussy)

you reached to cover your mouth with one of your hands, your palm muting the moans that inevitably left your lips when he began to fuck you against the sink roughly. your other hand gripped at his thigh, your nails digging into his flesh, and you couldn't help but close your eyes tightly, face contorted in pleasure.

he released your hair and his fingers curled around your throat instead, applying light pressure as he groaned; his digits dug into your skin, leaving bright red fingerprints on it.

"look at me while i fuck you," he ordered, forcing you to open your glazed eyes and look at him through the mirror.

his grip tightened on your throat as he slammed his hips against your ass, his cock buried balls deep inside your cunt and hitting all the right spots within you. the mirror reflected his flushed face, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and eyes locked onto yours as he took what he wanted from you, making a moaning mess out of you; thankfully, your hand covering your mouth muffled the sounds.

"damn it... so fucking tight," he moaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts, "pussy feels so good around my cock." he leaned down, his lips meeting your ear as he whispered his filth into it.

he left a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck while his cock made you see stars, his free hand finding its way between your shaky legs to rub your puffy clit, causing you to squirm.

"you love this, huh?" he taunted, smirking against your flesh, "you love it when i'm rough with you, don't you, principessa?"

his hand slid up from your neck to grab your hand and pull it away from your mouth, pinning it behind your back, so that you could answer him. though you struggled to do it; the way he was rocking his hips caused his cock to rub against your g-spot with every single thrust, making you feel like your insides were being torn apart in the best way possible.

"hmm, yeah," you cried out in response, "love it when you fuck me hard."

his lips captured yours again and your walls clenched around him as you moaned into his lips, the kiss muting the sounds of your pleasure. you felt the coil in your belly tightening and your clit pulsed underneath his fingertips, signaling your impending orgasm. he broke the kiss, his eyes dark and hungry as he looked down at you.

"you close, bella? he panted, slapping your ass hard enough to sting.

you nodded in response, blubbering incoherent words, unable to form any sentence as he ruined your cunt.

"that's it, baby... cum for me," he grunted, pushing deeper and harder, the sink creaking due to his harsh thrusts. "i want to see your pretty eyes roll back into your head when you cum on my cock."

his filthy words triggered your orgasm.

he watched with satisfaction as your eyes indeed rolled back, your back arching and nails digging into your skin as you covered your mouth once again, trying to silence the moans and cries that slipped from your lips.

"such a mess... so fucking beautiful," he praised.

he bit down softly on his lip before letting out a rough, guttural groan, the feeling of your cunt engulfing his cock too much for him too handle.

"i'm gonna cum inside you," he warned, "gonna breed this tight little pussy, amore."

you let out a whiny moan, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your walls clamped around his cock in response to his dirty words.

"you want that, huh?" he mocked you, his hand grasping and pulling at your hair to push you back onto his chest. "want me to make you pregnant with my fucking child?"

"yeah," you whimpered pathetically, "want to carry your child, theodore nott."

"fuck," he cursed, letting out a long, low moan as he unloaded his cum inside you, the warm sticky liquid filling your pussy. "buona ragazza," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from collapsing. (good girl)

your legs were completely shaky, making it hard for you to stand up, so you supported yourself on the countertop as you felt him pulling out slowly, his cum dripping out of your abused cunt.

he placed sweet kisses over your back and shoulders as you recovered from your orgasm, whispering soothing things to you while he grabbed his wand to mutter a cleansing spell and get you both all cleaned up.

after composing yourselves, the both of you walked out of the bathroom quietly to not grab any undesired attention, unluckily, pansy parkinson was waiting out of the bathroom, arms crossed and smug grin tugging at her lips; you blushed.

"finally," she claimed, laughing, "you two had fun in there?"

"shut up, parkinson!" theo shouted, grabbing your hand and hurriedly guiding you outside of the three broomsticks.

'we sure as hell did, pansy', you thought as you both walked away.

[fritzes]

i have a question - i've seen a few posts you've reblogged kinda allude to jannik and holger having a feud... if so, when did this happen exactly? i'm out of the loop on this lol

allow me to set the scene. imagine, if you will, that you are holger rune in the year 2022. your childhood friend carlos alcaraz who is almost exactly the same age as you has just won a grand slam, and you want more than anything to be on the same level as him. and during indoor hardcourt season, you lock the fuck in. you start in metz and lose in the quarterfinals – a bit lackluster for the standards you're trying to reach, but it's fine. you go to sofia and make your way to the semifinals, where you're up against world #10 jannik sinner. jannik, like you, is a young player hyped up to be the next great thing. if you beat this guy, you're gonna start being taken seriously in the conversation. he takes the first set, you take the second, and you're only one game away from victory when he retires from injury. a win is a win though... but you go on to lose the final in straight sets. but! never fear! you go to stockholm the next week and win it, beating the world #5 in the final. you make the final of basel, losing to the world #9. and then. and then. paris. you beat the world #10. you beat the world #9. you beat the world #1. you beat the world #8 (who just beat you in the basel final. and in the final, you play a close, tense three-setter against the world #7, the greatest of all time, novak djokovic. and you win. you just barely miss out on playing the atp finals, but you end the year just outside the top 10, well ahead of jannik sinner, who didn't win a single match since losing to you. you're so close to carlos, and you're surpassing the rest of your generation

fast forward to monte carlo 2023. after a bit of a turbulent start to the season, you make the semifinals with a win over the world #5. and who should you play but jannik sinner, who has propelled himself back into the top 10 and is just barely above you in the rankings. the match starts, and he flat out breadsticks you. the weather sucks. the crowd is cheering against you. and this guy, competing with you to be the rival to carlos, is beating you soundly. you're pissed, so you lean into that. you argue with the crowd, you fight the umpire, and you hit the ball as hard as you possibly can and while simultaneously hitting the most annoying drop shots ever. and it works. the calm, stoic jannik sinner is so fucking done with you. he's missing easy volleys everywhere, he can barely serve, and he's just frustrated. you, holger rune, have done the impossible and made jannik sinner lose his composure on court. and you win, and it's wonderful... and you lose in the final the next day. and right after you lose the final, this happens:

ouch.

you just barely make it to the atp finals (heavily benefitting off the extreme flop of one casper ruud, among others). you just barely lose your first match to novak, you get a walkover from tsitsipas, and on the final day you're set to play jannik sinner. in italy. this should be fun. now, jannik has just beaten novak for the first time ever, and if he loses to you, novak is eliminated from the tournament. if he wants to, he could tank to take out his toughest opponent. but does he do that? ohhh no. even when you're deep into a grueling third set, he doesn't give up. he wins, and the crowd is deafening and you're going home. you could be bitter about it, but instead you pour your heart and soul into a nice instagram story about it to cope, as you tend to do

and so it comes back to monte carlo in 2024. jannik sinner is now a grand slam champion and a 2x masters 1000 champion, surpassing everything you've done. he even passes carlos in the rankings, and you are just an afterthought compared to the two of them. their rivalry is the future of tennis, and you just haven't caught up, haven't met the expectations that everyone has set for you. but maybe here, you can turn things around. it's a struggle. the schedule is not on your side, and you get caught up in rain delays and having to play multiple matches on the same day. you barely survive your first match, you make it out of your second match through tiebreaks and sheer determination, and you're exhausted. so of course, you have to play jannik sinner, now world #2. it's like last year all over again. he takes the first set, everyone in the crowd on his side, and he's improved so much in the last year that it's like you're playing a completely different person. in the second set, you go down 0-40 on your serve twice, but you somehow manage to hold on to get to a tiebreak. while all of this is going on, you've slipped back into your "brat" ways. you're getting time violations, fighting the crowd, protesting against the umpire. at one point, you do a 🤏 at the crowd and receive a code violation that you do not agree with. you basically go on strike until the supervisor comes out, all while jannik sinner is just hanging out on his side of the court, smoothing out clay with his feet, infuriatingly calm. so you go into the tiebreak at your wits end, and you end up facing a match point. you save it. you face another one. you save it. and by some miracle, you win the set. it's going to a decider. and what do you know, you've done it again. jannik sinner, who almost never expresses his emotions during a match, is visibly annoyed at you. that might just be a victory in itself... which is a good thing, because you don't get a victory in the actual match. but you're not gonna go down without a fight. and when the atp social media wishes jannik "may the force be with you", you have some choice words...

jannik goes on to end the year as a clear world #1, with two slams and four masters 1000s to his name. you, on the other hand, don't even finish the year in the top 10. you're only 21, but the constant comparisons to jannik and carlos have left you seen as a one-hit wonder with unfulfilled potential. and part of that is you just couldn't beat jannik sinner when it mattered

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Din Djarin cock worship drabble (din djarin x you)

pairing: din djarin x f!reader warnings: 18+ MDNI, explicit descriptions of smut, (assumed age gap maybe???), the armour stays on except for when din eats pussy (which is 24/7 in this universe), overstimulation wc: 1.4K a/n: hello lovelies, this is just a part of something that has been cooking in my brain for the last week. I was ignoring my schoolwork and other responsibilities as usual and rewatching mando, and just thinking about how that modulated rasp makes me melt, and how I would give anything to tie Din Djarin up and suck the soul out of him to hear those moans. that man deserves his cock to be worshipped, and I think about that on the daily tbh . this is unfinished but i hope to complete it this weekend!

Impenetrable beskar steel forged under sweltering heat that could rival Tattooine’s binary suns. Stealthy, calculated, choreographed skills of a warrior, so innate to his being, an exoskeleton similar to the armour he wore.  An unshakeable creed that represented devotion, honour, humility, and strength.

Powerful, weathered strength. Strength that shouldered hundreds of bounties, countless days of survival in the harshest planets, and so many physical injuries he’s lost count at this point.   

Din Djarin was a humble man. He never boasted his abilities or displayed a cocky nature. He had no reason to. Growing up in the covert, competing drills and sparring with other Mandalorians, he let his combat skills speak for himself as opposed to his words. Din would never deny his strength however. He knew he was strong, despite his age, and despite the aches and pains that permeated his body after each hunt. It was a quality that he could always pride himself on- at least that’s what he thought up until this point. Until he met you.

It turns out the stoic facade of strength that the hardened warrior so heavily relied on, crumbled the instant you could get your hands on him. Well, your hands and your mouth. 

Nearly 3 months had passed since you joined the mandalorian And the child. Three months since you offered your skills to help him with his bounties and take care of the child when he was off on his hunts. 3 months since your relationship progressed from just ship mates and acquaintances coexisting in solitude and monosyllabic answers, to partners that shared each others bed every night. A cacophony of grunts and deep groans to catch your breathless whimpers and keening whines filling the hull of the razor crest. 

You soon learned how much of a pleasure dom that mando was. Well, Din to you, now that he had entrusted you with his name. Once he learned what made you tick, what made you scream out his name as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, he was fucking insatiable.

Most nights he wouldn’t fuck you until he made you cum on his tongue or his fingers at least twice. And even then you’d be a mess. Squirming and sobbing as you pushed his head off your dripping sensitive cunt. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, you could feel the heat rolling off his broad body as he caged you against the bed.

“It’s okay, you can take it cyar’ika,” he would coo at you as he fed his thick cock into your warm wet heat. “Need this tight pussy nice and wet before I stretch you out on my cock.” 

You never lasted long, your orgasm crashing over you as you pulse around his length, writhing into the bed sheets. 

He reveled in being able to take you apart. Pushing you to the limits of your pleasure that it almost became painful. He fed off of it. 

It was rare however, that Din ever let you return the favor. Whenever you attempted to take him into your mouth, to show him your desire and appreciation, he would bat your hands away. Or he would only let you taste him for a minute or two before he’d manhandle you back onto the bed, legs spread by his massive palms, as he beheld you like a deity he wanted to worship over several lifetimes. His ferocity to have you usually outweighed his usual firm patience. 

You doubted that you were bad at giving head or that he didn’t enjoy it. Din was vocal, that much you were surprised to learn. As vocal as that modulator in his helmet would allow. Nothing rivaled the groans and curses you were rewarded with as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, eyes never straining from the T of his visor, taking him deep in your mouth, sucking on the head. You could only bask in the glow of his praise and delicious sounds for so long before Din became impatient and hauled you off his cock, the desire to be deep inside your warm wet heat his sole focus. “Need to have you now meshla,” he groaned, “can’t fucking wait any longer.”

Tonight would be different, you thought to yourself earlier that day as you watched Din stroll down the ramp of the Razorcrest, eager to begin his hunt for the next quarry. You had landed on Trandosha near dawn, and while the lush landscape of the planet appeared inviting Din had made it clear that you and the child couldn’t explore while he was gone.

“The quarry hasn’t exactly been covert about laying low, so it shouldn’t take long to track him down.” He explained as he restocked his munition and triple checked his weapons. 

Something about the methodical, almost choreographed manner in the way he loaded the pulse rifle bullets in his bandolier, reloaded his blaster, secured his vibroblade on the inside of his boot made you ridiculously horny. Watching the weathered faded leather of his gloves, caress the barrel of the rifle, mold around the handle of the blaster, those same gloves that molded to the curves of your body. You felt your throat go dry as he kept talking.

“Are you listening cyar’ika?”

Two leather clad fingers settled underneath your chin, urging it upwards to meet his visor.

“Huh?”

His helmet tilted to the side ever so slightly as he appraised your glossed over gaze, not before letting out one of those deep sighs that you had come to know and love. 

“No leaving the ship while I’m gone, under any circumstances. Got it?” The fingers under your chin shifted as his hand curled around the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently over your jaw.

“Trandosha may be a decent planet but Trandoshans are ruthless hunters, and they wouldn’t miss an opportunity to capture a sweet thing like you, or the child.”

The thought didn’t scare you. Having been around Trandoshans before, you knew they were cunning hunters, but the large reptilian species were slow on foot and clumsy with weaponry. They were nothing in comparison to Din’s prowess and perfected combat skills. 

Humming in response, you walk your fingers up the cool beskar of his chest plate, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Good thing I am traveling with one of the most ruthless and equally feared bounty hunters in the galaxy hmm?”

Burying your fingers in the curls peeking out from underneath his helmet and tugging slightly, you reveled in the shaky exhale he let out. 

He leaned down, resting the forehead of his helmet against yours.  A quiet rumble leaving the depths of his broad chest. 

“Ruthless huh?” His strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his broad body. You basked in the warmth emanating off his armour. While he appeared a mountain of metal, it sent a thrill through you upon feeling the humanity coursing through his body, the life exuding from underneath his beskar shell.

“Yes Din.” You replied with a smirk as you arched your back, smushing your breasts against the cool, hard angles of the chest plate.

“Ruthless in catching your bounties, ruthless in destroying your enemies,” you look up at him from under your lashes, “ruthless when you fuck my pussy and make me cum so many times I lost count.”

He lets out a noise, between a groan and a growl, as his hands slithered down to grip your ass, tightly cupping your ass cheeks, trying to pull you impossibly closer than you already were. It wasn’t enough to be pressed up against you, he needed to be inside you. That much was evident as you felt the hard outline of his cock, nudging against your lower belly. 

“Damn fucking right I am. That tight little pussy is mine.”

It was your turn to shiver as your eyes fell shut and you bit your lip. Stars, the power that this man had over you. How he was able to make you fall apart with just his words, that filthy fucking mouth hidden underneath his unreadable halo of steel.

He leaned down till the helm of his helmet was beside your ear. “No leaving the ship,” he repeated in that delicious rasp. “I’ll be back soon okay?”

Little did Din know the surprise you had in store for him later.

[thetriumphantpanda]

LOST IN OUR VICES | TWO

Chapter Summary | A proper date has Marcus falling even further into his lie about who he is, but when you're as beautiful as you are, he can't find it in himself to care all that much.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Word Count | 4.7K

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus continues to go along with a lie, art gallery date (I know nothing about art so go easy on me), romantic rain kisses, a dinner date featuring food and alcohol, two idiots slowly falling in love. Explicit smut - oral sex (f&m), a smattering of exhibitionism, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, some light somno (Marcus wakes you up eating you out), absolutely filthy talk, finger sucking, cumplay and I think that covers everything!

Authors Note | This..... well, what can I say. It simply fell out of me once I got into the swing of things - I wanted to make Professor Pike filthy and I think I've managed it. I'd love to know your thoughts, so feel free to comment, reblog or send me asks about this! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Marcus is stood at the bottom of the steps to the National Gallery, easy to spot in the crowd. He’d not really left your mind for the entire week, your lips still holding the ghost of his, the feel of his palm against your ass still branded onto your skin. You’d talked almost every day, texts back and forth, the usual thing when you were getting to know someone, but when he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek, and then flashing that smile at you, he’s even more gorgeous than you’d remembered.

He grasps your hand in his own and leads you up the steps and into the gallery. He picks one of the free maps up and grabs a pen from his back pocket, telling you to circle three rooms. You’ve been here before and know exactly the paintings you want to see so it’s an easy task. He does the same, citing that if you wander aimlessly, you’ll be here all day, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’s got dinner reservations you have to keep.

Marcus picks Sunflowers by Van Gogh first, the bright yellow flowers bring you joy whenever you see them, especially so in these dark, winter months when life is so scarce. You insist on seeing The Fighting Temeraire because it reminds you of your grandfather, the reason you love art so much.

“I remember coming here with him when I was very small,” You explain, stood in front of the painting, “We stood here for so long, and I just remember thinking I wanted to learn more about it all.”

The rest of the afternoon slips by like that, showing each other paintings until you’ve run out. You’re stood in front of Marcus’ last pick, The Garden of Love. Somewhere along the afternoon, he’s taken hold of your hand, fingers entwined with yours.

“You can see the brush strokes,” He muses, pulling you in front of him, your back dangerously close to his front, his free hand pointing over your shoulder, “Lean forward, you can see them, I promise.”

And he’s right, his back pressed to yours to push you forward so you can see them. His mouth right by your ear as he talks you through what you can see, the stray brush hairs and the way the grass has been painted to give it movement. There are goosebumps flowing across your skin, before he remembers when you are and moves away from you slightly, letting your heartbeat return to normal.

There’s a moment where he checks his watch, then he takes hold of your hand and starts dragging you from the gallery - paintings blurring as you have to run a little to keep up with the pace. When you reach the front entrance, you hear it before you see it, the downpour of rain, fat droplets hitting the ground, forming puddles. You curse the fact you hadn’t properly checked the weather before leaving.

You look to Marcus, who holds up a finger, drops your hand slightly, then steps over to the side where a burly security guard nods his head toward Marcus and takes a step out of the way. There’s a small umbrella stand behind him and you watch as Marcus reaches over and plucks one of the umbrellas from it.

“Thanks, Mike, see you next week buddy.”

Mike tips his hat to Marcus, and then at you when he clutches your hand in his once more, adding a wink and a knowing smirk towards you like he knows exactly what's going to happen for the rest of the day.

You step into the downpour, letting Marcus hover the umbrella over the two of you. He stops, lets you take in the surroundings - Trafalgar Square bathed in darkness and soft light from the streetlamp’s. You crane your neck to look up at Nelson’s column.

“I remember coming here when I was younger, with one of my friends, and trying to take a picture of me touching the top of it from down there,” You point your finger down towards Whitehall, you know exactly where you stood all those years ago, “Hold on,” You say, fishing your phone out of your pocket, opening up the camera roll and scrolling as far back as you can, to find the exact photo you’re talking about, holding it in front of him, Marcus laughs, because the tip of your finger is nowhere near the top of the column, “Not my best attempt, I must say.”

Pocketing your phone, you take a few steps to the left, starting off to your dinner reservation, when you feel the warmth of Marcus’ palm slip around your wrist, turning you around so you’re stood in front of him, toe-to-toe, your face tilted up at him.

He brings his free hand, the one not holding the umbrella, up to your cheek, and you feel his thumb brush over the skin there, ever-so gently, before he’s leaning down, lips across yours in a soft press. You step forward, moving close enough to him to wrap your arms around his neck - droplets of water from the edge of the umbrella dripping onto his jacket as he kisses you.

You can hear the rushing of the traffic around you, splashing through pools of water, and the chatter of people around you, locals and tourists alike, but none of it matters. Not when there’s that low pool of butterflies churning in your stomach, and certainly not when he pulls away, tip of his nose pressed to yours as you bite your lip a little, none of it matters except him.

“So, what does next week have in store for you?” Marcus asks, sipping on his glass of wine.

“Outside of trying to hit my weekly word count, I'm going to a public lecture that professor Pike is giving at UCL on Thursday.”

Marcus is mid-sip, choking slightly on it as he swallows, covering his mouth with his napkin to try and keep whatever this is under control.

“Are you alright?” You ask, concern dripping from your voice.

“Yeah,” He says, holding up a hand, coughing a little to clear his throat, “Sorry, swallowed wrong,” There’s another pause as he sips from his water, “That sounds interesting though, what is he lecturing on?”

“He’s lecturing on counterfeit art,” You explain, knife cutting through your steak, “He used to work for the FBI and I think the lecture supplements the release of his new book.”

“I had no idea he was an ex-agent,” Marcus shrugs, “Sounds interesting though, you’ll have to give me the rundown next time we meet.”

“You could always come with me?” You offer.

He smiles and lets out a little chuckle, “What time is it?”

“It starts at 6:30.”

You watch as he chews on his food, thinking for a moment, “I might be able to make it, I’ll have to let you know how teaching goes that day, but it definitely sounds interesting,” You pick up your wine to sip at it, “But if I can’t make it, we can certainly do something next weekend, okay?”

He politely insists on going back to your place once the meal is over. Apparently not expecting this was to go so well, he hadn’t tidied and didn’t want you to think bad of him when your eyes glanced over the mess. It’s endearing to you, and you’re only more than welcome to have him over. The bed needs christening anyway.

Marcus holds you hand this time on the walk from the station. It’s dark and cold but thankfully the rain has stopped. He pulls you away from the edge of the pavement when a car threatens to splash you as it passes you, then insists that you walk on the inside so you don’t get wet. It’s those small things that make you smile, that make your tummy flutter, makes you realise he knows how to treat someone.

It makes you think about the last person who had been in his position - never getting this far, mainly due to the fact that on the second date he insisted that you made him feel stupid when you spoke about your research. You wanted to tell him that was because he was, but you held your tongue, let him pay for dinner and then told him you didn’t see things working out.

When you let the two of you into your apartment, you flick on some of the lamps instead of the big light and watch as he walks to the long windows that look out onto the garden. You’re a few floors up, looking down on the garden from a height and you can see a few people milling around, illuminated in the dark by the orange glow of the lounge lights from the ground floor.

“Nice place.” Marcus murmurs, hands in his pockets as he looks out of the window.

“Yeah, I can’t deny it,” You smile, “Do you want a drink?”

He turns to face you, “Not really.” He speaks with a smirk.

He holds out a hand, palm upright to the ceiling. You wander over to him and let your own hand slip into this, relishing the feeling of his hand closing over yours, gently dragging you towards him. The way his other arm slips around the small of your back is effortless, as is the way he pulls your entire body to his, mouth slanting over yours in a soft kiss.

It’s over too quickly for your liking, but then he’s bringing both is his hands up to your face, clutching your cheeks in his palms, “You look beautiful in this light.” He murmurs, looking at you, warm. orange glow from your lamps illuminating you perfectly.

“So do you.” You almost whisper, letting your hands grip at the edges of his jacket, smiling as he lets you push it off his body.

“What do you want?” He asks softly, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Looking up at him, bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt, you undo the first two of his buttons, “What do you think I want?”

“I wouldn’t want to assume,” He speaks back, the zip of your jacket caught between his thumb and pointer finger, slowly dragging it down, inch-by-inch, “I want to hear it.”

You bring your hand up to cover his then, slowly pushing it down until your jacket it fully unzipped, “I want you to take my clothes off,” You say with a flutter of your eyelashes, “And then I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight.”

Your hand lets go of his, letting his shove your jacket off your shoulders to fall to the floor. That hand sinks down his chest until your palm runs across the front of his jeans, bulge evident as you press more firmly, biting your lip as he gasps.

“You’ve got a filthy mouth.” He groans, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Marcus.” You wink, slowly falling to your knees in front of him.

He tangles a hand in the hair at the back of your neck and pulls gently, making you look up at him, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Marcus doesn’t protest again, just looks down at you, sitting pretty on your knees, and raises his eyebrows as if to tell you that if you want it, you can take it. Your fingers work his belt open, pull it through the loops of his trousers, before it’s added to the pile of discarded clothes so far. You work the button open, and slowly drag his zipper down, before you hook your fingers into the waistband, dragging his trousers and his underwear down to his knees in one go.

It takes all of your willpower to ignore the gentle bob of his cock right in front of your face. He’s big, probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, pumping your fist slowly, as you bring your lip to every inch of skin around his cock, pressing hot, wet open-mouth kisses all along the small swell of his belly, until you can hear his laboured breathing and his hand is tightly fisted in your hair.

You pull back, finally dragging your hand all the way up the length of his cock, letting your thumb trace gently over the head, swiping the pearly bead of precum that sits there, swirling it over the head. Then, you lean forward, eyes strained to keep them locked on his own, as you press a single kiss to the weeping head of his cock, tongue darting out just a little to taste him.

“Jesus Christ,” You can hear Marcus mutter from above you, “Darling you’ve got to put me out of my misery.”

Looking into his pleading eyes, those brown orbs glossed over with wet, practically begging you to stop teasing him are too much, so you do indeed put him out of his misery. Opening your mouth, letting the head of his cock rest there just a moment, letting your tongue tease the underside of him just a little, before you wrap your lips around him and hollow out your cheeks, letting your mouth slide down his length as much as possible until he hits the back of your throat, the length you cannot fit into your mouth still has your fist working it.

His back is to the window, the streetlights and the glow from the apartment building across the garden is bathing him in an angelic light. He leans back, letting his back rest against the pristine glass as you move your mouth up and down his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat, the free hand that isn’t pumping at the rest of his length coming up to cup his balls, gently massaging them.

You can feel his hands scoop your hair up, gather it at the back of your head so he can look down and see your face as his cock disappears into the wet cavern of your mouth. It’s sloppy, there’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, and when you pull off him to catch your breath, running your fist along his length, it’s soaked - line of saliva connecting him to your mouth.

“You getting it nice and wet, baby?” He asks, voice strained, “Getting it nice and wet so it slips into your pussy nice and easy?”

You’re about to put your mouth back on him when he brings one of his hands to clutch at your chin, shaking his head. He pulls you up to your feet, turns himself around so you’re the one in front of the window. His hands on your waist move you so you’re facing outward, looking at the darkness of the garden below.

Marcus reaches around your body, chin resting on your shoulder so he can see what he’s doing as he undoes each of the buttons of your shirt. He pulls it off your shoulders, discards it to be forgotten on the floor.

He trails his hands up the exposed skin of your ribcage, letting his palms rest over the cups of your bra. He squeezes gently once, then again with a tighter grip, then he’s trailing his fingers around your back to the clasp, where he manages to undo it without any trouble, letting that fall to the ground too.

You’re acutely aware that if anyone was to look up from the ground below, they would be able to see exactly what was going on, but when his warm hands come up to cup the weight of your tits in his palms, fingers rolling your nipples into stiff peaks, you can’t find it in yourself to care, you only tip your head back onto his shoulder and sigh in pleasure as his hot mouth starts sucking at the skin of your neck.

One of his hands wanders, skimming down the skin of your belly, past the waistband of your skirt and tights, until his hand is cupping your sex, hot through the cotton of your underwear. His fingers trail down, right to where your aching cunt is leaking for him, wet patch clearly evident on the material.

“Fuck me,” He groans, pushing himself into you, the hardness of his cock grinding against the material covering your ass, “You’re fucking soaked for me baby.”

You can feel him drag his hand back up, just slightly, until it’s slipping under the material this time. Finally his hand is right where you want it. You can feel his fingers slipping between your folds, inching down until they’re mixing in the pool of slick, dragging upwards until his finger finds your clit. He presses gently, circling slowly but it still makes your knees buckle. Marcus steadies you with one hand around your waist.

“Careful, baby,” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe, “Don’t want you to fall.”

You’d have a smart retort if his fingers hadn’t rendered you silent. You close your eyes, let yourself focus on those precise circles of his fingers, moving your hips in time to his movements. You bring an arm up, wrap it around his neck and turn your face, feeling his lips find your own, mouth open and tongue melding with yours.

Marcus lets his fingers move from your clit and you let out a whine of protest, until you feel him slip two of them straight into your cunt, as far as he can fit them, curling them gently against that spot inside you that has you falling forward, palms against the glass of the window.

You feel his spare hand grip at the hem of your skirt, shoving it up to bunch at your lower back, that hand then falling to grip your ass through the dark material of your tights. His fingers are tight against your skin, gripping you, spreading you, as his fingers continue to work inside you. He pressed just perfectly into one spot, making you cry out. You can feel the tightening in your core, feel your pussy flutter around his fingers.

“Oh baby,” He coos, “Are you going to come?” You nod your head, “Tell me,” He demands, hand moving up to tear your tights down and over your ass, “Tell me how good it feels.”

“Marcus,” You whine, moving your hips down in time to the upwards movements of his fingers into your cunt, the slick there causing a lewd squelch each time he does it, “Fuck, please, it feels so good.”

“Please?” He chuckles, dragging your body back up from it’s slouched position, “Please what?”

“Make me come.”

And so he does. He curls his fingers, sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and works your body perfectly, until you’re whining and wiggling against him. He drags his fingers from your pussy, drags them back up to your clit, circles it maybe three or four times and then he’s flinging you over the edge, tight coil snapping in your tummy, pleasure blooming everywhere as those fingers work you through every second of your climax.

You’re boneless now, pussy throbbing, sweaty skin sticking to the skin he’s got on show, as he moves you gently towards your bed. He lies you down on your back, strips you of everything else you’re still wearing, and then steps back, taking off each item of his clothing that he still has on. You watch him unwrap himself in front of you, your hand drifting between your legs, spread for him and on show. It doesn’t matter that you’re sensitive, you let your fingers dance lightly across your clit, spreading yourself open for him.

“Like a work of fucking art, baby. ” He murmurs, knees sinking into the bed as he settles between your thighs.

He swats your hand away from your cunt, leans forward to kiss you as he gently slips two of his fingers back inside your pussy. He pulls back, brings his slicked fingers to his mouth and makes a show of sucking them clean, just inches from your face.

“Taste so good baby,” He speaks, letting those two fingers find your aching hole, pressing inside once more, and you think he’s going to do it again, but this time, when he drags those fingers from you, he grips your chin, making your mouth fall ope, “Taste yourself.” He orders, watching you as your tongue slips out, inviting his fingers in.

You make just as much of a show as he did, sucking his two fingers into your mouth, tongue dipping between them to suck them clean. When he’s satisfied, he kisses you again, lets his tongue mix with yours, not just his taste now, but the taste of your cunt on his tongue too - musky but sweet.

“I want to fuck you so bad, baby.” He murmurs into your ear, settling himself into a position where you can feel his cock dragging through your wet folds.

“Please,” You beg, “I want you so badly.”

“Do you have a condom?” He asks, nose nuzzling at the delicate skin behind your ear.

“I do,” You say, “But I take the pill and I’m clean.”

He pushes back, body resting over yours, chest pressed against your tits, “You want me to fuck you bare?”

“I want you to fuck me bare, Marcus,” You whisper, hands cupping his face, “I want you to fill me up.”

“You’re something else.” He speaks softly, one of his hands reaching between you to guide his cock down, head nudging at your aching cunt.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just presses himself into you, feeding you every inch of his cock as slowly as he can manage. With every inch, your head tips back, until he’s fully inside of you, tip of his cock kissing at your cervix, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re tight as a fucking fist baby girl.”

“So big,” Is all you manage to choke out as he starts moving, slowly dragging his cock out of you to push back in, “I’m so full.”

“That’s right baby,” He agrees, pushing himself up onto his palms that are planted on either side of your face, “So full of my cock, right?”

This position allows him a little more freedom to move his hips, which he does, dragging out of you and then pushing his cock back into you with a little more force and it makes you fucking sing. He feels so good, cock brushing at all the right spots inside you as he speeds up a little. You look down between your bodies, watching his length spear into your pussy, watching it disappear inside you with every thrust.

“I won’t…” Marcus sighs, “I’m not gonna last long baby.”

“I don’t care,” You sigh, “I wanna feel you.”

Marcus picks a rhythm - rough thrusts of his hips that have his cock hitting at the depths of you, his head dipping down to take one of your nipples into his mouth - worrying at it with his teeth and then soothing it with his tongue. You’re so close, you can feel another orgasm right there on the cusp, so close that you can feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. When you close them, you feel a trail of tear drip down and settle in pools in your ears.

“No need to cry baby,” Marcus soothes, letting his mouth lick at the trails of tears from your eyes, “I got you, I can feel you, come for me again baby, it’s okay.”

He shifts positions slightly, dragging your legs up to rest on his shoulders, then he presses forward, folding you practically in half and then picks up his pace.

You’ve never felt like this, no-one has ever rendered you into such a wet, squealing mess before. Your nails are digging into his arms, leaving half-moon patterns there. Every punch of his cock inside you is pleasure mixed with a pang of pain. You can’t breathe, but you don’t care, because with each stroke of his cock you’re falling further and further, until you close your eyes, tip your head back and see starts as your second orgasm tears through you. You hear yourself scream for him, mouth dropped open as he loses whatever control he had before. It’s hard and it’s fast, and it’s all fucking worth it when he drops your legs and goes still.

Your name is falling from his lips like a chant, like a prayer at church as you feel his cock throb inside you, white hot cum painting every inch of the inside of you. He manages to keep his weight from collapsing onto you, pushing himself back on his knees instead, letting his cock slip from your tight heat.

You watch him as he holds your legs spread, watching his cum seep out of you. It’s performative and entirely unnecessary, but you dip a hand between your legs, use two of your fingers to spread yourself open and push lightly, letting him watch his cum pool at your hole, dripping down between the cheeks of your ass. You feel one of his fingers follow the trail, scooping it back up to press back inside your pussy, then, that fingers is slipped into your mouth.

“How do we taste baby?”

“Pretty good.”

In the moments that follow, once you’ve used the bathroom, the two of you settle under your sheets. Marcus on his back with you draped over his chest. He’s drawing shapes on your back, pressing kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drift in and out of sleep.

When you wake, it’s still dark, the moon is high in the sky, and his face his buried between your thighs, leisurely eating at your cunt like he’s got all the time in the world. Your let your fingers tangle in his brown curls as he slowly works you up, tongue lapping at your clit softly until you’re writhing and twisting in the sheets as he makes you come for the third time that night.

He kisses you as he settles back down next to you. He turns you over so he’s pressed against your back, holds on of your legs up so he can push his cock into you again. You’re sore and spend and every muscle in your body aches, but he’s soft this time, rocking his hips into you from behind, slowly fucking you with his arms wrapped around you, both of you looking out into the darkness beyond the windows. He comes inside you for the second time that night, but neither of you make time to move. His cock slotted perfectly inside you, his cum leaking out slowly around him and down your thighs as you both fall asleep again.

In the morning, the storm has cleared and the low winter light wakes you up. The bed is empty, but still warm when you move onto your back, eyes adjusting to the light. Marcus is at the foot of the bed, doing up the last buttons on his shirt.

“I have to go.” He says simply, but with a tone that says he’d rather do nothing more than crawl back into bed with you.

��That’s okay,” You say, pushing yourself up, holding up the sheets to cover yourself, “Will you come back later?”

“Do you want me to come back later?” He asks, sitting on the side of the bed to slip his shoes on.

You shift slightly, moving so you can tuck a particularly unruly curl behind his ear, “I do.”

He turns, smiles at you, then kisses you softly, “Then yes, I’ll come back later.”

[lunarubra]

Hi :) this is the first chapter of the Shadow of the Sea, let me know what you think about it in the comments. A big thank you to @cillmequick for beta-reading and being the sweetest person ever. I wouldn't have published it without her assurance that it doesn't completely suck.

Pairing: Cillian x OC (Jiyan)

Summary: In this AU set in 2010, Cillian has just finished filming 'Inception'. He has never been married, and after a few disappointing relationships, he finds himself feeling blocked in his personal life, even as his career continues to rise.This is a completely fictional story, not based on real life. I wrote this with the utmost respect for the man and his family.

Warning: Homesickness, Family Distance, Mention of Sexual Assault (not between OC and Cillian), Sexual Harassment, Date Rape Drug/Roofies

Words: 2700

Next | Masterlist

Chapter 1: Eire's Depths

Closing the laptop with too much force, Jiyan started massaging her temples, hoping to alleviate the tension and praying she wouldn't have to deal with a migraine anytime soon.

The library was silent; the only sound was the rain against the windows, soothing the last students. Even if the new semester just started, there were only a few people left in the study area on a Saturday afternoon. Most students had already headed to the pub for a pint or were getting ready for the clubs later.

Jiyan checked her phone, noticing too many messages she had been ignoring since the morning. Sighing, she opened her brother's chat and found three unread messages.

14h11: Ready for a call later?

16h22: Mom is pacing, almost started ironing. You need to call tonight.

18h42: Seriously sis... if you don't call tonight, I will sedate her and take the first plane to yours.

Jiyan chuckled and quickly answered Mikael.

19h13: Ironing, huh? Almost need an intervention.

19h13: Will call soon, little bro. Don't despair.

Clearing the table of books and notes, she put her laptop and the last few things away in her backpack.

Outside, it was raining. Again. 

And it was dark. Already.

Coming from a country where the sun kissed Jiyan's skin almost every day, the continuous rain on this island pierced her heart each time. She was tired and hoped to get home, have a cup of tea, and finally make the call she had been postponing for the last two weeks, perhaps even forgetting what she was doing on this verdant yet depressingly weathered island.

The ride to her place was fast, and the bus was on time, something she was gradually getting used to. Entering the small studio made her feel restless and anxious, intensifying the pressure on her temples. Looking around the space she had started calling home in the last few months did ease her discomfort a little. 

Having spent her childhood moving to different countries, Jiyan was acutely aware of the housing crises almost everywhere. Still, she was taken aback by the difficulty of finding a flat in Dublin.

After a month spent in a hostel dorm and countless useless house visits, her desperation reached a point where she considered a dubious Craigslist post seeking help in renovating an old studio. 

When she first checked it out, she realized the studio was actually above a car repair shop, and apparently, no one had lived there for about 30 years. Sean, the guy who owned the shop, almost cracked up when she asked about costs and materials. It took her a good 5 minutes to persuade him that she was capable of almost any woodworking task and that she could undertake the restorations in her spare time and during weekends if she could live there. They struck a deal: Sean would foot the bill for materials, and until the renovation was done, she'd cover her living expenses by doing all the work herself.

After two months of solid effort, she'd managed to put in new wood floors, set up a functional bathroom with a brand-new shower, and even start building herself a kitchen. Sure, the place was small, didn't have central heating, and still looked like a bit of a mess, but the one thing that sealed the deal for her was the wood stove. It reminded her of her mom’s cabin up in the mountains, where she'd spend lazy afternoons by the fire, lost in a good book with a cup of tea in hand. So, if she could bring a bit of that cozy feeling into her new place, she figured she'd be all set, even with juggling her university work and research study.

It took a couple of minutes to get the fire going and put the kettle on for some fresh mint green tea. Once she finished her first cup, she dialed her little brother's number.

"Finally, are you becoming such a loser that you're spending your Saturday at the library now?"

"It's called work, Mika. Something you'll learn soon enough."

"Yeah, of course, like I'm not living with a psychopath right now. She almost started ironing the bed sheets, Aji. We need an intervention here, immediately. Mom never cleans; she moved from Turkey because she couldn't stand spending her time cleaning. You need to convince her that you're fine."

"I am fine," Jiyan repeated for the thousandth time. "And Mom moved from Turkey because we're Kurds, and she wanted to avoid spending her time in jail for teaching her language in school."

"You're fine?" Mikael said incredulously. "You're living in the land of Mordor. It's been a week since you've seen any sun; I checked the weather!"

"It's not that bad. I'm starting to like the rain," Jiyan said, convincing no one. "And I like the job."

"Is that Aji?" she heard her mom in the background, stealing the phone from her brother.

"Aji, how are you?" her mother's worried voice asked.

"Hey Mom, I'm good. Mika told me you need an intervention."

"Your brother should be studying for his finals, focusing on his Latin test," Jiyan's mother said after a pause. "It's been weeks since we've heard from you, Jiyan."

Jiyan stared out of the window, feeling guilt and pressure rising in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just... I'm super busy with work and renovation here. I started building the kitchen from scratch, and most of the time, I forget to check my phone. I'm fine, really," she tried to reassure her.

"You're avoiding, little star, and today is a difficult day for you. You should be here, not alone on an island without sun," her mother insisted.

Jiyan really didn't want to have this conversation; she moved to this island to avoid this topic.

"It's all good, Mom. It's not a big deal," she said. "Also, I'm meeting new people; it's a good change," she added, feeling the lie stinging her tongue.

She heard her mom sigh. "I miss you, little star."

"I miss you too, Mom. Also, Mika, I need to go now. I'll call you next week."

"You do that, or I'm sending your brother there to check on you."

Jiyan chuckled and smiled. "We'll lose him at the first change of trains."

"Every battle has its losses."

Now really laughing, she closed the call. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, little star."

Jiyan put down her phone, staring again at the window. She knew she needed a distraction and couldn't spend the rest of the day inside alone. Not even building furniture could distract her today. 

She put on her jacket and boots, grabbed the keys, almost sprinting outside in the rain. 

Again.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

5 points.

Snap.

15 points.

Sighing disappointedly, Jiyan walked over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. It had been two weeks since she discovered this pub near her place. The music was usually pretty good, and it could be a cozy spot during weeknights. It wasn't usually too crowded, which suited her just fine. She'd come in to have a soda and play darts, avoiding the regulars and the occasional group of tourists who tried to strike up a conversation.

She knew she stood out as a woman in a pub on a Saturday night, playing darts alone. That night, she had already dodged two American tourists who tried to flirt and offer to "teach her" how to play. 

On the other hand, the regulars, after giving her strange looks for the first couple of nights, now hardly noticed or bothered her, accepting the odd loner who didn't drink beer and spent hours throwing darts. Tonight, unfortunately, the pub was busier than usual, with some tourist groups disturbing her vibe.

Feeling a presence behind her, she tensed up immediately.

"Hey, baby, what are you drinking? Can I buy you the next round?"

Jiyan turned around to face a stranger who looked like the typical Chad character from any American high school drama.

"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shortly, turning back to focus on her game.

"Come on, I saw you looking at me. You were checking me out, I saw you."

"Excuse me?" she said, annoyed, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, when you went to order your drink, you smiled. The guys and I are having a blast; you could come join us. I promise you a great night."

Jiyan took a deep breath, trying not to get too annoyed. "Listen, Chad, if that's even your name—I don't care. I'm not here to make friends or have a good time with your guys. I was having fun until 30 seconds ago when I didn't even know of your existence. Can we go back to that, please? Thanks, bro."

"My name's not Chad," he replied, irritated.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Jiyan said dismissively, hoping the conversation would end there, and she could get back to her new form of therapy: throwing darts.

Chad returned to his table muttering something about a "stupid bitch," but Jiyan didn't have the energy tonight to educate a stranger about basic respect and boundaries.

She took the last sip of her lemonade and headed to the bathroom, ordering another one from the bartender. When she returned, finding the new bottle of lemonade near the dartboard, she resumed her evening.

Cillian was onto his second pint when his attention wandered again to the peculiar woman in the far corner of the pub, throwing darts.

She seemed to be in her late 20s, sporting a hand-knit beanie that partially obscured her long dark hair. Her frame was small, drowned in a pair of jeans and an oversized dark hoodie. Each time she retrieved her darts from the board and turned around, Cillian found himself momentarily distracted from the conversation, captivated by her large green-leaf eyes.

Despite her efforts to blend in with her dull, oversized attire, every straight man in the pub couldn't help but notice her attractiveness.

Dermot, noticing Cillian's repeated glances, remarked, "She's new around here, lives in the area, spends her nights alone playing darts. Connor was annoyed the first night because she doesn't drink or eat, but apparently, she tips well, so we see her almost every night now."

Cillian raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Do you stalk all the newbies at the pub? Should I be worried? Should I give Connie a call?"

Dermot chuckled. "Like you didn't glance in her direction every five seconds. Just doing you a favor, pal."

Snorting, Cillian covered his blush with a sip from his pint. "I was just curious, and I wasn't staring at her the whole time."

"Sure, sure. Maybe we don't need to worry about you after all. You've been holed up in your basement for a month, and now look at you! You should go talk to her."

Cillian shook his head. "I'm gearing up for the new role, and it's been busy..."

Dermot glanced at his friend. "It's okay, you know, to try again? You're not a bad guy, and not all stories work out, mate."

Cillian looked down at his pint, taking another sip. He hadn't wanted to go out tonight and dwell on his last relationship. After a couple of weeks of seclusion, he was finally finding his balance. It wasn't that he missed her; they both knew the interest had faded months ago. They had reached a point where they were uncomfortable around each other and only ended up hurting one another.

He was just tired.

At 34, he was already questioning if this was it, his life—filled only with jobs he loved and relationships that would fill his life for a few months before inevitably ending.

Glancing up, he noticed a tourist from a nearby table approaching the young woman. Dermot and he said nothing for a moment, watching with interest. She appeared mostly annoyed and seemed to handle the situation well. After a brief exchange, she returned to her darts, and the guy slunk back to his table looking disgruntled.

Dermot chuckled after a sip from his pint, jesting, "Or maybe not the best idea, it looks like not even your piercing blue eyes would work this time."

Cillian snorted. "I think Enda would kill me if I showed up tomorrow with anything less than perfect condition. He owns me until the end of this play."

"Best not risk it, then."

They spent the next half-hour joking, with Dermot updating Cillian on Corinna and their new pregnancy. Cillian tried not to glance at the dartboard anymore, but he couldn't help but notice the American guy hurrying back to her corner after she ordered something from the bar, only to return to his table before she came back. Hopefully, he had finally realized she wasn't interested.

Around 11, they both decided to settle the bill and end their Saturday night.

Connor asked if everything was okay, and they both tipped him generously. It had taken some time for Cillian to find a place where no one cared about him or his career, and he didn't want to ruin it.

While Dermot quickly went to the restroom, Cillian cast one last glance at the dartboard, only to find the corner of the pub empty, with only her half-drunk bottle remaining.

Connor followed his gaze and grunted. "She forgot to pay, these damn tourists."

Surprised, Cillian looked at him. "I can cover her tab..."

"Why should you?" interrupted Connor, waving his hand dismissively. "She's here most nights; it will be covered, don't worry."

While waiting for Dermot, Cillian's eyes wandered to the American group's table, where they were laughing and shaking their heads conspiratorially. He noticed almost immediately that the persistent guy was missing and a bad feeling washed over him.

"Ready? Conie's going to kill me if I get home too late again, and maybe this time I can avoid sleeping on the couch," Dermot said, noticing Cillian's worried expression.

"What?" he asked Cillian.

Shaking his head, Cillian replied, "Nothing, let's go. Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, lads."

Stepping outside, the cold, fresh air jolted Cillian awake. The street was quiet, unusually empty for a Saturday night. Glancing around before bidding farewell to Dermot, something caught his eye. In the corner of the street near the alley that led to the back of the pub, he noticed a jacket he recognized from inside. Dermot was saying something to him, but he wasn't paying attention, drawn closer to the alley where he found the guy from inside with his arms around an intoxicated young woman. She seemed unaware of what was happening and unable to stand on her own.

"Hey! What are you doing to her?" Cillian exclaimed, getting the guy's attention.

The guy jumped, almost letting the girl fall to the ground.

"Just helping her, man," he replied quickly. "Mind your business and go back inside."

Dermot, who had reached Cillian by then, also saw the scene unfolding before them. "What the fuck is happening here?"

The guy appeared more concerned now and, realizing Cillian wasn't alone, released the woman he was carrying, pushing past Cillian to leave the alley.

Cillian quickly moved closer, trying to catch her before she hit the ground. She now looked unconscious, and he gently laid her down, checking her vitals.

"What the fuck, man, this is so fucked up," Dermot said.

"Dermot, call 999. I'm not sure if she's breathing properly," Cillian said, alarmed. "Who knows what the fuck he gave her."

He wasn't paying attention to his friend but was focused on trying to make her a bit more comfortable. After a few moments of cradling her head, he noticed her scrunching her nose and grimacing. She opened her eyes, and Cillian found himself momentarily lost in them.

"Hey," he said softly as she stared at him. "It's going to be okay, alright? Just breathe; the ambulance is coming."

She didn't respond, just continued gazing at him with those beautiful green eyes, looking a little confused.

"It's going to be okay," he repeated, even softer this time. "I'm here. You're not alone. Just rest."

And she smiled, causing his heart to skip a beat, before closing those bright jade eyes once more.

Next | Masterlist

Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Your feedback, in any form, makes me happy. See you at the next one :)

amazing dividers from cafekitsune

[gemttiem-ebianlavae-tiaviniat]

7x09 ficlet

Just wrote something down after seeing the stills for the upcoming episode. It kind of sucks, but I hope y'all see the vision I have.

Sort of spoilers so you will find the whole fic under the thingy.

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

‘’Hey’’ Tommy spoke softly as he walked up to Buck.

‘’Hey’’ Buck replied with a soft smile on his face.

‘’So I was thinking we are both off tomorrow, maybe we could hang out or something.’’

‘’Yeah, I’d love that.’’ Buck replied looking a bit conflicted.

Noticing Buck’s demeanor, Tommy raised an eyebrow. ‘’But?’’

Buck sighed. Twiddling with his hands. ‘’I sort of already told Eddie I would watch Chris.’’

‘’Again?’’ Tommy asked, with no heat behind his words.

‘’Yeah, sorry.’’ Buck scratched the back of his neck. Giving Tommy and apologetic look.

Tommy placed his hands on Buck’s shoulders, rubbing up at down. ‘’No, you don’t need to apologize, I get it.’’

Buck gave him a grateful look.

‘’Things between him and Marisol are going great then, I guess?’’

Not even two weeks earlier Eddie was considering breaking things off with Marisol after finding out she was a nun. Buck had told Tommy all about it.

‘’I guess.’’ Buck replied shrugging his shoulders. ‘’He was being very secretive about it though. ‘’ He added looking a little confused. ‘’Eddie asked me when we were away from Chris and Marisol and asked if I wouldn’t mention it to them yet.’’

‘’Hmm.’’ Tommy nodded. ‘’Should we be worried?’’

‘’No.’’ Buck, replied quickly.  ‘’I mean, I know Eddie. He’s a good guy, probably has some fancy date planned.’’

‘’Must be nice.’’

Buck knows Tommy didn’t mean anything by it, but he still felt bad about having to decline Tommy’s offer. Buck bit his lip. ‘’I mean, you can join us tomorrow?’’

‘’You think that’s a good idea?’’ Tommy raised his eyebrows, adding softly. ‘’ I wouldn’t wanna impose.’’

‘’Yeah ofc. Chris likes you, he’d love to have you around’’

‘’Yeah?’’ Tommy smiled softly.  ‘’Alright then.’’

‘’It’s a date. Sort off.’’ Buck grinned. ‘’Though we’d probably need to keep the PDA low.

‘’We?’’ Tommy asked amused.

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’I’m sorry who was the one with almost his hands down my pants just now?’’

‘’Shhh.’’ Buck looked around nervously, his cheeks turning red.

Tommy grinned at Buck’s reaction.

A few minutes earlier Buck was basically draped over Tommy. Holding his hand, and kissing his palm. Hugging him from behind, giving a sloppy cheek kiss. Buck couldn’t help himself. Tommy looked fucking amazing in his suit. No one could blame him for being a little hands on. And if it annoyed a certain someone from Tommy’s past that made Tommy act like he was back in middle school, being bullied by a bigger kid. Then how could he not?

Tommy nudged Buck, murmering closely to his ear.

‘’Not that I’d  complain of course.’’

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

When Eddie dropped Chris of at Buck’s. Tommy was already there. He was a bit nervous. Did Chris even want him there? When Chris walked through the door he had excitedly yelled Buck’s name. When he saw Tommy he looked a bit confused.

Tommy was in the kitchen making a snack as Chris watched Buck set up their game.  ‘’When dad said you wanted to hang out I wasn’t expecting tommy to be here.’’ Chris said just above a whisper to Buck.

Buck was confused. Eddie had told Chris that he wanted to spend time with him, and not that he had another date with Marisol. What was going on? Noticing Buck’s demeanor Chris added. ‘’It’s okay though, I like Tommy.’’

Hearing those words made Buck snap out of his thoughts. His heart skipped a beat, a wide smile appeared on his face.

‘’Yeah? I do too.’’

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

After what felt like hours of gaming, Tommy had suggested to go somewhere outside. The weather was nice and it would be a shame to spent it all day inside. Buck and Chris agreed. So they ended up at the park. Tommy had just bought the three of them Ice creams.

‘’So you and tommy are dating? Is he your boyfriend then?’’ Chris asked taking a lick from his ice cream.

Buck didn’t know what to answer. Him and Tommy never talked about what they were before. They had been on a total of three dates, one which was a failure, the coffee date was nice and their last date was the wedding, sort of. Scheduling didn’t work in their favor unfortunately.

Noticing Buck wasn’t sure how to respond, Tommy answered for him. ‘’You’re putting me in a difficult spot here kid.’’ Tommy said with a serious look. ‘’I haven’t had the chance to ask him to be my boyfriend yet.’’ He added smiling, winking at Buck.

Buck blushed at his words. He was going to say something when he caught something in the corner of his eye.

Eddie was at the park. He was in a boat on the lake. A very romantic date, if it would have been Eddie and Marisol, but with him wasn’t Marisol. It was another woman. And they were laughing and smiling and she just pulled Eddie in for a kiss.

Eddie was cheating on Marisol? Eddie the nester Diaz? Buck couldn’t believe his eyes. Tommy Followed Buck’s gaze for a split second, realized what he was looking at and shared a look, before Chris could follow what was going on, Buck stood up pulling the attention to him.

‘’How about we go to the Zoo? We haven’t been in a while and I am sure Tommy would want to visit?’’ Buck gave a look at Tommy, silently begging him to help him out.

‘’Yeah, I’d like to go to the zoo.’’ Tommy said, standing up next to Buck, making sure Chris wouldn’t look the other way.

Chris looked confused, but didn’t protest.

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

‘’We should talk to him right?’’ Buck asked Tommy that night. Eddie had picked up Chris a few minutes earlier. Buck had asked him how his date with Marisol went and Eddie had replied that it was good. That he owed Buck for watching Chris. Buck couldn’t look Eddie in the eyes.

‘’I don’t know..’’ Tommy said unsure as he was leaning against Buck’s kitchen counter. ‘’Whatever is going on, Eddie probably didn’t want to involve you.’’ He added, folding his arms over each other as he shrugged.

‘’He’s my best friend. I just didn’t think he’d ever lie to me, we tell each other everything.’’ Buck said, pacing around in the room.

‘’Everything?’’ Tommy raised an eyebrow.

‘’Well yeah, he has my back and I have his and all that. I just don’t understand why he would keep this from me.’’ Buck sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. What was going on with Eddie?

‘’Hey, come here.’’ Tommy said as he watched Buck. He pulled him into a hug. ‘’Why don’t you talk to him about it tomorrow?’’ Tommy kissed the birthmark on Buck’s face. Buck sighed holding onto him. Tommy, as short as he had been in Buck’s life, always had a way to make Buck feel better.

‘’Yeah, I will.’’

[jillsandwhichs]

Cleon - OneShots/AUs Fanfiction, Chapter 16, My plus one

Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Redfield & Leon Kennedy

Summary: Claire goes with Leon as a plus one to a Wedding he is attending

Status of their relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 3.1k

Type: SFW

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Art Creds: DA

Today is October 15th-the day of Leon's friend, Patrick's, wedding. Leon and Patrick met as agents for the D.S.O and they have known each other for a good two years now. Leon assumed Patrick would be alone for his entire life considering how he acts. He's a prankster, he likes to play tricks on people and it gets rather old really fast. Leon never liked that about him.

But considering they are both grown adults, they've managed to forgive and forget and with that, Leon was, believe it or not, invited to the wedding. Patrick is getting betrothed to a lovely lady named Alice, she seems kind enough. When Patrick and Leon would work together-she was all he would hear about. Alice this, Alice that, Patricks world practically revolved around this woman so it isn't all that surprising that they are now getting married.

A wedding in October is unique too, very brave. It rains often during this time of year and it's chilly, not the most ideal weather option for an enchanting wedding. But, Patrick and Alice have managed to pull it off.

It is an indoor wedding-they're having it on a farm out in the countryside. The theme of the wedding, so the theme for the clothing is bieges, grays and light yellows. Leon is wearing a more casual outfit. He's wearing a beige button up with trousers that match it. His hair is as always, he never planned to style it in the first place. The theme is pretty and to Leon, suits the bride and groom well. Hopefully nobody ruins the wedding by wearing white.

Although, one thing Leon had to have in order to attend the wedding was a plus one. While it wasn't actually required, he didn't want to be alone. His girlfriend, Claire, was the obvious option.

They've only been together for three months, but their relationship is as perfect as it can be. They've been doing well for themselves. When Leon asked her to accompany him to the wedding, she agreed instantly and bought a dress for the occasion that same week-the wedding was weeks from then. Leon hasn't seen her dress yet, but Claire has a great sense of fashion so it will not be a surprise when she looks absolutely breathtaking.

Currently, Leon is at his place, his apartment. Whereas Claire is at her small townhouse, also getting ready. About two hours ago, she shot Claire a message to let her know to start getting around and that he'd be there to pick her up around noon since the ceremony starts at one-thirty PM-a nice time, gives people the go to prepare. He'll be heading out to pick her up in a few-Leon only lives about ten minutes away from her.

Strolling away from the mirror, Leon grabbed his phone off of his nightstand and typed in his passcode so he could message Claire. It's eleven-fourty AM right now, he should get going here soon.

"Hey hun, I'll be heading out to your place right now, be ready."

Then, Leon sent her the text. He's leaving twenty minutes before noon for two reasons. One, so she can have extra time to get ready and two, so he can beat traffic. Since twelve-noon, is rush/lunch/happy hour, the roads will be packed full of others just trying to get to and from work after they've eaten; At least they aren't hangry in that case. Another thing that Leon made sure of was that he and Claire both ate before the wedding since it would really suck to be hungry during the ceremony.

Convoying out of his bedroom, Leon made his way to his front door. His car keys are already in his pocket, he was well prepared. All he has to do now is get to Claire's house, see her and pick her up. He can already imagine how cute she looks.

Leon unlocked his phone again after feeling it vibrate-knowing it was Claire, he wanted to answer it as soon as possible.

"Already ready. See you soon babe." Is what Claire's message said, earning a smirk & chuckle out of Leon.

Now he could drive to her house and finally see her!

-

Leon pulled his car into the driveway of Claire's home. He parked and honked his horn, letting her know he was there. Only minutes after he honked, her front door opened and closed, along with her walking out of her house. Leon's assumptions were correct-she looked fucking perfect. He was enthralled by her appearance.

Claire was wearing a long sleeved short dress and it was a light yellow color, a pastel if you will. It suited her well. Her long brunette hair was braided, Leon has never seen it in a braid. Usually, Claire has it up in a ponytail. He was so entranced by her that he didn't even realized she was now in his car until she began to speak, that familiar pretty voice filling the open space in his car.

"You could've just knocked on my door, you know that right?" Claire spoke out, a giggle coming from her. She also had her purse with her-all of her essentials inside of it. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry baby." Leon responded, unparking his car and beginning to pull out. "You okay?" Claire asked him, pulling her lip tint and chapstick out from her small purse; She was genuinely concerned. "Of course. You look gorgeous, by the way." "Thanks baby. You clean up well too."

The drive to the barn where the ceremony and reception will be held is about an hour away so they should arrive there by one PM, hopefully. The ceremony begins at one-thirty so they best be there before then.

Luckily, Leon isn't impatient but the downside is, Claire is. She's the type to ask-"are we there yet?"-over a million, gazillion times. He puts up with it, but that doesn't mean it isn't annoying. It makes Leon fear having children, the agony of their annoyance will be bitter but also sweet-bittersweet. When Leon talked with Patrick, they discussed him and Alice having kiddos of their own and when they spoke about that, it made him think about how that would be with Claire.

Having children will be blessing, especially if it ends up being with her.

Eventually, they were out of town. Claire's townhouse is just on the border of the city and the countryside, hence why Leon was able to arrive at her place rather quickly. The drive to the location will mainly consist of country land-the occasional city will be passed through but other than that, it'll be fields and random manufactured homes out in the southern part of the state.

"What did you eat? You ate, right?" Leon asked her, he had to make sure. "I did, I had some Greek yogurt with toast. How about you?" "I just had left over pizza." Leon snorted. Claire giggled, "Of course you did." Claire is a much more organized person than Leon is. She's also much more healthy-she eats better, works out more, has a routine, a good one. Leon just eats whatever he has, considers his missions his workouts and plays everything by ear. They definitely balance one another out with their personal pros and cons.

The scenery of the drive was just beautiful.

The trees still had a minor amount of leaves on them-each leaf being either a deep shade of orange or a light shade of yellow. They hadn't passed a house in a bit, til they reached a ranch. The wedding itself is also on a ranch, the ceremony and reception will be held in a large, brown barn. Leon saw the pictures of the venue and it suits the bride & groom. If Leon ends up marrying eventually, it has to be outside. The last thing he wants is to be cramped inside somewhere on his wedding day.

Claire had once mentioned a beach wedding being her dream-maybe that'll work.

Whilst Leon was driving, he'd often take glances at Claire, admiring her. She didn't seem to notice either, she was in her own world. She'd be on her phone, touching up her makeup or looking out the window-anything but paying mind to Leon. She seemed to have something on her mind.

"Is everything alright babygirl?" "What do you mean?" "You seem upset or something." "No, no, I am okay." Claire assured him, setting her hand on his. "Honestly, I'm more-so nervous about the wedding, I hope what I wore fits the theme nicely." "It does, don't worry." He replied, kissing the side of her head quickly, then focused back on the road. It wasn't busy, not at all. The back roads are always empty-only the occasional tractor or semi will pass on by.

"How about we listen to some music til we get there, hm?" Leon mumbled, turning the car radio up. "Sure!" Claire responded with glee-music is her life.

The song that began playing was a Queen song which is perfect considering that is Claire's favorite band!

"Nice." She whispered to herself before beginning to hum the lyrics all while looking out the car window.

Chuckling, Leon hummed alongside her, all while concentrating on the street he was convoying on.

-

1:05 and they arrived!

And wow, the parking lot was packed. Leon didn't take into account how many family members and friends Patrick and Alice had combined-clearly a shit ton. The barn was lit up all around and the sidewalk leading up to the entrance was too-it even had yellow & white rose petals spread across it. Through all the chaos that was the parking lot, Leon was able to find a parking spot-definitely one of the last ones too.

The venue did look gorgeous. Patrick and Alice did a wonderful job with their planning-and their wedding coordinator if they had one.

"It looks amazing, like a fairytale." "Tell me about it." Leon chortled, handing his keys to Claire so she could keep them safe & sound in her purse. "The ceremony is when, again?" "1:30, about 15 minutes from now." Until then, they'd be able to converse with people, get drinks and find their seats, they luckily will have enough time. "You ready, my love?" "Mhm." Claire nodded, opening the door, Leon did as well. The October air woodshed against them-Claire's dress even pulled a Marilyn Monroe.

"Come here." Leon said softly, his tone gentle. He held his hand out for her. Claire interlocked his fingers with his and smiled-closing her eyes as she did, causing her to look adorable. "Cute. Let's go." Leon laughed, squeezing her hand playfully.

Just in front of them, people were already scattered all over the place. According to the RSVP notes & their wedding website, Alice won't be here til literally minutes before the ceremony. Not a single person here knows what her dress looks like, it's meant to be a big surprise. People were rushing in and out of the barn, bringing food in, drinks too, reorganizing every little thing. Weddings seem stressful-that is the one thing Leon won't like about planning his.

Out of no where, as the couple was walking up to the barn together, a middle aged lady stopped them, abruptly asking-"Who are you two?" Leon figured this could happen, none of the families know them. "Hey. Leon and Claire, we are friends with the groom." Leon clarified. He doesn't want the family to think they're wedding crashers or something along the lines of that. The woman scanned a paper she was holding before going "Ahhh." Spotting their names on the paper.

"Okay then, thanks, go on ahead." She chuckled, walking off to most likely ask more people who they are.

Entering the barn, not only was Claire left in awe, but Leon too. They really went all out. It's easy for them-Patrick is an Agent and Alice is a teacher, they must make stacks weekly.

The inside of the barn was built with a orangish yellowish wood, it was polished and had spots of dark brown wood all on it. The chairs in which guests would sit during the ceremony were benches, white ones, with fairy lights stringed all along them. The theme definitely coordinated with everyone's attire. In the corner of the barn, there was a buffet and man, it smelled delicious. Some food was already prepared whereas other dishes were still being made in the kitchen out in the back.

But, the best and most elegant part of the barn was where the alter was. It looked perfect, definitely fit Alice more than Patrick but Leon's always viewed weddings as something morely the wife plans rather than the husband-at least for every wedding he's attended. Vines of white & yellow roses were hung and spun around the arch, lights too. The arch itself was basically the same color as the wood implemented into the barn. The alter was definitely the highlight of their decorating.

Each seat was assigned, so before anything, Leon wanted to find his and Claire's spots. "Can we get drinks after this?" "Yes." Leon whispered in response as he analyzed each chair.

Their seats were smack dab in the middle-perfect!

After spotting their seats, Claire set her purse down in her chair, then grabbed onto Leon's arm, holding it. "We can get drinks now." Leon whispered to her. The two of them wandered to the drink bar and there were so many options to choose from. Water, soda, juice, wine, beer, etc-a lot. Claire grabbed a glass of white wine, it smelt dearly. Leon, obviously, couldn't drink a single drop of alcohol so for himself, he just got a glass of sparkling water.

"How's your wine?" "Great. I can tell it's the fancy stuff." She bellowed, Leon did too. "Yeah, I wish I could drink but I have to get myself and my girl home safe." He teased-his sweet words made Claire blush.

Not many people were inside the barn. Most of the attendees were outside, roaming the acres. Leon felt somewhat out of place but the more awkward he looks & acts, the more stupid he'll look. "How about we walk around the area til it's time for the ceremony, hm?" "Sure baby." Claire replied, clearing her throat. They exited the barn, stepping down the cemented, decorated steps and looking around. "This way." Leon nudged her. They went towards the downhill side of the barn, that way they could have some alone time together.

Helping her down the hill, Leon grasped Claire's hand, making sure she wouldn't trip.

Down the hill, there was a creek. The sound of the water trickling down the stream was serene. The water was so evidently clear too, which surprised Leon. Beautiful, big rocks coasted the body of water-not a single section of the stream didn't have at least one rock. It looked straight out of a naturalistic TV show. Leon & Claire trailed up to it, sitting down criss cross beside it. Sitting there, Leon could feel occasional sprinkles of water hit his hand, the current was at an ease but it was fast.

Looking up, Leon watched Claire as she gazed upon the water-her eyes sparkled as she did. She's so pretty. He admires her, he adores her, he loves her. Claire is a sweetheart. "Anything on your mind, Red?" Leon wondered, his head at a tilted angle. "Sort of... Just thinking about life, you know how it is." "I do," He chuckled, "I really, really do." Leon sighed softly. "How about you babe? Anything on yours?" "You." "Oh please," Claire giggled, "When am I not on your mind?" "True." He nodded playfully.

She is not wrong.

Often times, Leon is thinking about her. She has a key to his mind-free entry-and she uses it daily.

"Seriously though, baby, you alright?" "I am..." Claire paused. Clearly something was going on in that noggin of hers.

"Can I be honest?" "Well, of course." "Leon, I think about our marriage often-if it'll ever happen at all. And to be quite frank, this day makes me want it even more." Her words made his heart race increase. Leon believed only he thought about their future together and how it'll be. He wishes he could have been the one to initially bring it up. "I just love you a lot and spending forever with you wouldn't be so bad." She teasingly added on. Leon was kind of at a loss for words.

He too felt as though this day made him want to marry her more-that'd be a blessing. At least Claire actually admitted it.

"We have all the time in the world to think and plan our future, my love, let's take it slow." Leon's hand motioned to her face, stroking her soft, warm cheek. Claire gave him a lippy smile, moving her head against his hand as she said, "You're right Leon, I know." She is extremely understanding. "Good." He mumbled in reply.

Only getting a snippet of Claire's watch, Leon saw the time, it was just about time for everyone to at least get seated, the ceremony is in ten minutes. "We should get heading back, Claire, ceremony is soon." "Yeah, sure." Claire smiled and stood up, wiping down her dress of any grass and dirt. She looked cute, super cute. Intertwining their fingers once again, they walked back up the hill carefully & successfully.

Re-entering the barn, way more people were inside now. Many were seated, a select few still standing and checking on last minute things. Leon turned around for a moment and saw Patrick, he looked very dapper. Patrick also noticed Leon and smirked at him before mouthing: "Wish me luck." Which, Leon definitely will!

Marriage is a scary thing. You're making a commitment to one person-that promise is meant to last til death do you part, there's no backing out unless you are brave enough to commit adultery. When Leon marries, that's it. If he ends up divorced, he'll remain single. He finds it quite unnecessary to remarry. If things go his way, he'll never have to remarry-Claire'll be by his side til death.

Nodding at Patrick, Leon turned back around and sat beside Claire. They got comfy and continued to hold hands, neither of them minded PDA-public display of affection. Soon enough, the ceremony shall begin, and it shall be worthwhile.

-

"Alice, do you, take Patrick, to be your lawfully wedded Husband from now til death do you two part?"

"I do."

"Patrick, do you, take Alice to be your lawfully wedded Wife from now til death do you two part?"

"I do."

The sight was sweet.

[moonstruckme]

Hii lovely mae it’s 5 degrees above freezing here and i’m under 6 blankets i have two pairs of socks on and my hot water bottle by my feet and three sweaters on. Because my heater has been broken for over a year now and it was okay until now. My landlord keeps telling me he’s waiting to hear from his plumber. (All bullshit btw he’s been stringing me on about that all year). And the thing is i love the winter i am not made for summer at all but being this cold inside, day in day out actually sucks ass. Sorry for the ranting! I read where you live it’s still warm and i hope you’ll stil get a cozy cold winter! Hope you have a great day <3 -🎱

Omg that sounds so awful I'm sorry! Ugh some landlords are the worst, and of course if it's been a year and he's just "waiting to hear" that's complete horseshit. I will send him a very stern email for you my love. And yeah it's still pretty warm here and we don't tend to get more than a week total of weather below 60F but I think I would rather have this than be freezing inside! When I was studying in London I couldn't get my heater to work for a few weeks and it wasn't nice at all, I'm really sorry you're dealing with that babe :(

[horny4hetfield]

Snow Way to Escape

First time writing. Hope it doesn't suck!

Hetfield fluff - Angst - Sex Suggested

Why did I ever fall for this man?!  Is he talented?  Yes.  Is he good looking?  Damn yes.  Is he great in bed?  Fuck yes.  Is he being a dick?  All holy hell yes.  Has been since he got home from the road.  Am I regretting moving to his place in Colorado?  Right now.  Yes.  His last dig at me has me packing my carry on and putting my computer into my backpack while wiping away the tears I swore I wouldn’t shed.  I can walk away from anything I can’t fit into these two bags.  I looked over at the smart home device for the time.  The notification bar was flashing yellow.  “Computer, what’s the notification?”  The robotic voice answered, “For the Vail Colorado area, the National Weather Service has issued the following weather warning.  A severe winter storm is forecast to begin snowing heavily at 2pm local time with heavy snow levels accumulating to 3 to 4 feet, drifting 6 to 8 feet.”  The rest of the warning went unheard as I grabbed my two bags, the note I’d written, and ran to the front door.  I dropped the bags on the floor, still clutching the note, as I saw my plans end.  Opening the front door I slowly walked outside, the snow had already been falling.  Big fat fluffy flakes so thick I couldn’t see the end of the driveway.  Looking over to the garage door, “No, no no no, no!”  The drift was already a good 2 feet tall.  For split second I thought about taking his damned truck.  It would easily clear that drift.

“What the hell are you doing?” James yelled from the front door, looking between me and the bags on the floor.

Taking one last glance at the pile of snow blocking the garage door, I turned back to the house, “Well, I was going to leave you.”  I slapped my note into his chest.  Pushing past him, I collected my bags and slowly made my way back to the room that I had claimed as my own three weeks before.

“What the fuck!?” James yelled just before slamming the front door.

I kept walking dejectedly.  Making it back to the room, I tossed the backpack onto the bed and just stood there clutching the carry on.  I could hear James come storming down the stairs.  “What the fuck?  You are leaving me?”  I turned.  His usually glacier blue eyes now a threatening dark blue filled with rage.

“Well, mother nature said no” as I motioned to the now dark window.  “Not tonight anyway.”

I heard the paper flutter to the floor.  “Why?”  The pain in his voice was natural, not forced.  It pinched my heart.

I turned to him but couldn’t look him in the eye.  “What was the one thing I asked of you when we started dating?”  He just stood there.  Then I did look at his face.  He was obviously thinking.  “I asked you to not compare me to the exes.”  He nodded slowly.  “I am not them and the exes are not me” I raged at him.  The rage fading from his eyes.  “But ever since you got home from the tour, you have been … well …”

“A dick” he finished my sentence.

“Yes” I snapped.  I put the carryon I was still holding on the bed.  “You have done nothing but compare me to them for months.”  I turned back to him, “The final straw was when you started counting your cash.”  His eyebrows knitted together.  “Every night before you go to bed, you count the cash in your pocket, put it in your wallet which you put on your nightstand.  Then in the morning after you shower and get dressed, you count it again.”  His fingers twitched as he processed what I said.  “I don’t need your money.”  He looked at me, shocked.  “I have my own career and my own bank account.”  He continued to stare at me.  “I could have taken your damned $90 thousand dollar truck and left you the car that I paid $125 thousand for.”  He cocked his head but didn’t ask.  I answered anyway.  “Taking your truck I would have gotten pulled over by your state trooper friends in a heart beat.  That would be a felony.  And you would have no say if I got arrested or not.”  I turned away from him.  “Right now, you are not worth a felony on my record.”  I moved to the desk and sank into the chair.

He looked around the room.  The realization hit him, “When did your stuff get down here?”

I huffed a smile, “James, I moved down here three weeks ago.”  He turned to me.  “You didn’t notice that I wasn’t sleeping in your bed?”

His hands kinda flapped uselessly, “I thought you were coming to bed after me and getting up before…”

“Thanks for noticing” I said sorta like Eeyore.

His eyebrows knitted together again, “But the sheets got changed.”

“Yes they did” I just looked up at him.

“And the kitchen … the dishes … the laundry …”

“The grocery shopping, collecting the mail, dusting” I looked down at my hands. 

“Why?”

“Who else was gonna do it?” I dug back at him.  “It’s not like you’d do any of those things.”  He huffed a moment but didn’t say anything.  “I wanted to hire a cleaning team, but you went almost mental on me about that.”

“I don’t want someone just rummaging through my shit” he flared.

“I understand that” I tried to stay calm.  “But there are teams that specialize in people of your status.  Plus” I pointed to the monitors on the desk, “I have a job!  One that I enjoy!” my temper trying to flare.  I leaned my elbow on the desk rubbing my eyes. 

He was quiet for a minute.  “Look, this storm is going to blow for a couple of days” he said.  “Let’s get some sleep.”  I just nodded.  He stepped backwards out of the room, “We can talk in the morning.”  He softly closed the door.

I looked at the closed door.  His cologne lingered.  More than just his cologne.  Him.  The tears started to fall.  I let them.  Sniffling, I decided to take a soak in the tub.  Starting the water, I dumped in some salts from the cupboard, then sank into the hot water.  I mulled over the past 8 months.  The good, the bad.  More tears.  When the water turned cool, I got out, drained the tub and climbed into the bed.  The heat from the soak worked a charm and I was asleep in minutes.

I woke up still wrapped in the towel from the tub soak.  I slipped out of the bed, pulling on a robe.  I opened the room door.  I could hear that James was in his studio.  It was a super crunchy riff floating through the house.  Smiling to myself, I went into the kitchen.  Pulling out what I needed to make a breakfast sandwich, I looked at the items on the counter.  It’s just as easy to make three as just one.  I left two on a plate in the fridge covered with a paper towel, with “Zap for 30 seconds” written on it.  I left another note on the counter, “Breakfast in fridge.”  Collecting my sandwich, a granola bar and a couple of Severed Lime cans from the fridge, I returned to my room.  Pulling my computer out of my backpack, I logged into work.

My chat window opened:

Boss:  You make the flight?

Me: No.  Got snowed in.

Boss:  You ok?

Me:  Meh

Boss:  Wanna talk?

Me:  Not right now.

Me:  I’m going Marinas Trench.  I need to get the last three chapters done.  They’re late.

Boss:  Understood.  Don’t worry about being late.  I’ll put in a good word for ya!

Me:  Thanks.

I clicked on the Out of Office option.  Then opened the files I needed from the New York servers and ate my sandwich waiting for the computers to synch.  Once done, I launched into where I’d left off.

I had no idea how long I’d been working until there was a soft knock on the door.  “Hey?” came James’ voice.

I turned to the door, “Yeah?”

“May I come in?”

Stretching, “Yeah.”

James came in and leaned against the wall.  “You sleep ok?”

Uncurling my legs from the chair, “Yes, thank you.”  Looking over at him.  “You?”

“Yeah, ok” he said.  He looked like shit.

I cocked a smile at him, “Liar.”

He huffed a laugh, “I don’t think I slept at all.”  He scrubbed his fingers through his silvered hair.  “Thanks for the breakfast sandwiches.”

I nodded, “You’re welcome.”  He kept trying to look at my computer monitors.  “What are you doing?”

“I guess I don’t know exactly what your job is.”

Patting the end of the bed, “Sit” I said.  He sat and leaned forward.  “I’m an editor.”  I rotated back to face the monitors.  “This screen is the book I’m working on” pointing to the monitor on the right.  “This screen” motioning to the one on my left, “are my notes.  The laptop in the middle just keeps me awake.”

“Why the notes?” his curiosity was genuine.

“Well .. here” I pointed to a block of text highlighted on the right screen.  “The author has brought in a new character that has no backstory.  If this character was just in this paragraph it wouldn’t matter, but it shows up several more times.”  Pointing to the text on the left monitor with matching highlighting, “These are my notes back to the author asking about a backstory for this character.” 

James shifted to lean to my left so see the screen.  “And how many notes does this author have from you?”

“On this book” I looked to the page count in the lower left corner of the window, “92.”

“Really?” he seemed shocked.

Stretching out my back, “Yeah, this guy tends to get lost in his own words.  So, I have to try to get him back out of the woods.”  I turned back towards James.  “You have never asked about my job before.  Why now?”

He sat back and looked at me.  “Because your note is correct.”  He rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs, “I haven’t taken any interest in you … outside of the bedroom.”

I heaved a sigh, “I probably should have edited my own writing.”

“No” his eyes popped up to my face.  “No.  You were right.  You were probably pissed as hell when you wrote that note.”  He ran his hands through his hair – which he did when he was nervous.  “But every word was true.  I have treated you like a whore.  I have compared you to the exes.  I have not discovered you … about you.”  His shoulders slumped some.  “I am sorry.”

That hit my heart.  Hard.  I rested my fingers on his knees.  “James.  I can accept your apology.”  His glacier blue eyes found mine.  “I can see that you mean it.”  Those gloriously blue pools now filled with doubt.  “But you will have to work on the forgiveness.”  I withdrew my fingers from his knees slowly.

Nodding, “I completely understand.”  His smile slightly lopsided.  “Will you please give me the chance to earn that forgiveness?”

I watched him a moment.  Then, smiling back at him, “Yes” I said softly.  His eyes brightened along with his smile as he stood.  “By the way” I looked up at him.  “I really liked that crunch you had going this morning.  It sounded amazing!”

Incredibly, his eyes lit up even more, “You really liked that?”

“Yes” I smiled up at him.

“Thanks.”  He fidgeted.  “Uhmm, what would you like for dinner?”

“What time is it?” I asked looking at my computer screen.

“It’s like 3pm.  But since you made breakfast, I thought I’d make dinner.”

Nodding at him, “I will leave that to the chef.”

Nodding as he moved towards the door, “You like your steak …?”

Smiling at him, “Medium Rare.”  He closed the door with a grin.  My head was laughing Of course it would be steak!  My laptop pinged.

Boss:  Surface to Marianas Trench…. (I love my boss!)

Me:  evening.

Boss:  How’s it going?

Me:  half way through last chapter.

Boss:  And the other thing…..?

Me:  Perhaps there is a chance there.

Boss:  ????

Me:  He just invited me to dinner.

Boss:  I thought it was snowing there still.

I took a picture out the window and attached it to the chat.

Boss:  So?

Me:  He’s making me a steak.

Boss:  Ahh.  Well, then you need to go get ready!

Me:  Right after I finish this chapter.  Then I’m all caught up on this book.

Boss:  Fine. 

Boss:  Hope it goes well!

Me:  Thanks!

It took me about 90 minutes to finish the last chapter since it was not a complete chapter.  Saving both files to the servers and sending the links to the author – with the boss cc’d on that email – I closed down my computer.  Standing up and stretching, I moved to the bathroom.  I decided to take a shower and wash my hair.  If James was going to put in the effort to change, so could I.  No more being a slob.  I sat on the bed drying my hair when there was a tap on the door.  I popped up and grabbed the robe.  “Yes?”  No answer.  I opened the door.  There hanging on the light fixture in the hallway was a garment bag.  A postit note stuck to it.  Dinner at 6pm.   Smiling, I collected the bag and closed the door.  Laying the bag on the bed I opened it.  I only got about 6 inches open when I gasped.  Inside was a dark green velvet gown with beaded trim around the scoop neckline.  It was the dress I’d told him about.  I’d even made him watch the movie.  James had it made.  He’d threatened to have it made for me to wear to the next awards show.  But I’d never thought he’d do it.  That was just a month or so after we’d started dating.  I looked at the clock.  5pm.  I had time.  I went back into the bathroom and did some tidying up.  Did my makeup and pinned up the hair.  I knew that he loved my long hair, but this gown … The hair had to be up.  Going back to the bed, I pulled the gown from the bag.  I slipped into it.  With the plunging back to just above my ass, I was commando beneath it.  I went to move the garment bag and it felt heavy.  Patting it down, I discovered a pair of heels.  They glittered with the same rhinestones as the trim.  Just as I slipped them on, there was a single tap at the door.  I opened the door.  The hallway empty.  But there was a pink post it note on the floor.  Squatting down – if I’d bent over the gown would have slipped off me – I picked it up.  There was a doodle on it.  I couldn’t figure it out.  But looking up the hallway was another post it.  Another doodle.  As I walked to the stairs, there were more postit notes.  Each with a doodle.  I climbed the stairs and turned into the living room.  There stood James.  In his Brioni tux.  The sight took my breath.  Damn!  He looked good!  And he was holding another postit note.  He held it out to me.  The doodle on this one was a rose.

“Oh!”  I held out the ones I’d collected, “These are rose petals!”

Blushing, “Yeah, I couldn’t go get a real rose, so I improvised.”

I gently collected the one he held, “It’s lovely.”  I looked up into his eyes, “Thank you.”

James held out his hand to me – which I took – and he slowly spun me.  “I should have given this to you ages ago.”  He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it.  “You look stunning.”  I just blushed.  James tucked my hand into his elbow and gently led me down the hallway away from the kitchen and into the formal dining room.  He’d set the table.  There were candles on it and two place settings.  He pulled out the chair for me and scooched it in when I sat.  “The staff seems to have not reported to work this evening, so I will have to substitute” he said in a really bad French accent.  I giggled.  His eyes lit up.  “I shall return madam.”  I giggled even more.  James disappeared into the kitchen.  I put the pile of post it notes on the table.  He returned with two plates.  Each bore a steak, a pile of green beans and a large slice of bread smothered in butter.  I smiled.  He was trying.  I cut into the steak and took a bite.

“How is it?” James asked.

Swallowing, “Perfection” I said.  He dug into his own.  I took a bite of the green beans.  A couple were still pretty frosty.  I didn’t say a word, but just smiled.  The bread was a garlic sourdough that I loved.  The butter was a bit much, but again, I wasn’t going to complain.  James had obviously put some thought into making dinner and I wasn’t going to ruin it.  I’d had worse meals. 

“The weather is forecasting that this snow will last another 36 hours or so” James said.

The weather.  A safe place to start.  “I haven’t listened to the weather or news today.”

“Did you get your book done?” James leaned towards me.

“I did.”

“How many do you edit?” his blue eyes clear and piercing.

“Uhm.  I have about 20 in the wings to work on.”  I took a sip of the Squashed Orange in my glass.  He’d used champagne flutes for the bubbly water.

“Why so many?” James looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“Some are just articles.”  I put my fork down,  “It all depends on release dates.  The one I worked on today is supposed to release right after the New Year.  The others have release dates after that one.”

“It has nothing to do with whom the author is?”

Pushing my plate away and leaning on the table, “Sometimes.  All depends on the author and release dates.”  I looked at him.  He was genuinely interested.  “If it’s big wig author and the release date is close, then that file gets bumped to the top of the pile.”

“Who is the biggest author you have edited?”  His smile was slightly crooked.

“I don’t get the Mitchell’s or the King’s”  I grinned.

“Why not?”

“My boss says that I’m too brutal with my notes” I slow blinked him.

James sat up.  “Yeah, you can be.”  He used his napkin on his lips.  “But perhaps they need those brutal notes.”  He smiled at me.  “As a recipient, I can attest that it kicked my ass into changing how I think.”  He held out a hand to me.  I laid my fingers into it.  “And I thank you.”  I didn’t know what to say.  He simply laid his other hand over my fingers and smiled at me.  Then he popped up, “Dessert” he said collecting our plates.  I squirmed in my seat.  My thoughts ranging all over the place.  He had totally messed me up.  Again.  Just like he had when we’d met.  He returned with two small plates.  Piled creatively on each were four sandwich cookies held in place with cake frosting and topped with whipped cream.  He set them down with great flourish, “Tah dah!”

Trying my best to not snort out a laugh, “I’m sure that the patisserie chef labored all day to create these delicacies.”  James did snort out a laugh.  Which made me burst out in laughter.  I picked up one of the cookies and happily munched it.  James retook his seat and tucked into his plate.  “Seriously, these turned out pretty good” I said licking whipped cream from my fingers.

“The frosting isn’t too much?” James asked seriously.

“No.  It’s just the right amount” I said scooping the last bit up on my finger.

James grabbed my hand and gently sucked the frosting from my finger.  I didn’t retract my hand but did go a little stiff.  He kissed the back of my hand before pushing it back towards my body, smiling at me.  “I’m sorry” he said kindly.  “Just a little too soon.”

Looking down at my now empty dessert plate, “Maybe not” I said softly.  I knew he couldn’t see it, but my thighs squeezed together tightly.

“Perhaps I should escort the lady back to her room” he said looking down at his plate, “before I make a compete fool of myself.  Again.”  He smiled at me as he stood, offering me his hand.

I took his offered hand, collected the postit notes and stood.  He tenderly tucked my hand into his elbow and walked me back to the room I’d claimed as mine.  I turned at the door, “That was lovely James.”  I again slow blinked him, “Thank you.”

He gently cupped my face and kissed my forehead.  “Thank you” he said softly.  His hands gently ran down my shoulders and arms to my hands, “I can’t wait to see you in this gown again.”  He lifted both my hands to his lips and kissed them.  “Good Night.”  He took several steps backwards before turning.  I turned and opened the bedroom door.  I kicked off the heels and then let the gown slip off.  I stood there naked.  My desires wanted to race up to his room and let him have his way with me.  My integrity said no.  My curiosity wanted to know what James would do next.  Hanging the gown up, I decided another soak was in order.  I unpacked my water proof vibrator on the way into the bathroom.

I was sound asleep.  I felt his hand on my shoulder, “Y/N” he said softly.  He shook me slightly, “Y/N, wake up.”  I opened my eyes to find James standing by the bed holding my robe.  “There’s something I want to show you.”  I fumbled out of the bed.  James helped me into the robe and then tucked me into his side, his left arm draping from my right shoulder down to my waist on the left side.  He guided me to the big sliding doors to the upper patio.  “Here, put these on.”  He guided my feet into a pair of fuzzy boots, then put on his own mukluks.  He opened the door and led me outside.  It was bitterly cold, trying to suck the air from my lungs.  James lifted the collar of the robe to cover my mouth, “Here this will help.”  It did make breathing easier.  I looked up and he had a scarf wrapped around his own mouth.  Then he pointed.  I followed his finger. 

The clouds had parted and the sky was filled with stars.  The landscape was a blanket of white snow as far as I could see. The bitterly cold temperatures had crystalized the top of the snow.  The moon was rising.  It was reflecting on the frozen crystals making them glitter.  It looked like diamonds had been scattered over the ground.  “Here it comes!” he whispered excitedly into my ear, his breath warming my ear and neck.  I shivered.  My nipples hardened painfully.  Then the Aurora flared into life.  An undulating ribbon of greens, blues and purples rose into the sky.  I gasped.  The frozen snow below reflected the colors of the Aurora.  James wrapped his arms around me, one around my shoulders the other around my waist.  I leaned back into him watching the magic of nature unfold in front of me.  I have no idea how long we stood there speechless at the beauty.  As quickly as it started, it ended.  “Wow” was all James said.

I leaned back into him, looking up at his chin, “Thank you for waking me.”  He hugged me tighter.  “That was stunning.”

His hands patted my body, “I am glad I shared it with you.”  He nodded towards the distant pass “And here comes the next round of snow.”  The clouds looked black and nasty in the now darkened sky since the Aurora had faded.

James kissed the top of my head.  “Now, you are shivering.  Let’s get back inside.”  He rotated us, his arms still wrapped around me.  We walked – a little awkwardly – back into the house closing the big glass door behind him.  We both kicked off the boots.  He backed us into the sofa, pulling me down into his lap.  He reached over and pulled up another blanket.  He wrapped it around us.  I curled up into his arms, my head resting on his chest.  His fingers gently stroked my hair.  Sleep reached up and grabbed me.

I woke up on the sofa with the blankets tucked in around me still wrapped up in my robe.  I could hear James in the kitchen.  I sat up.  “Morning sleepy head!” he chimed cheerily.  “Coffee?”  All I could do was nod.  He brought over my favorite mug filled with coffee.  I took a sip.  I was super sweet.  “Too much sugar?”  I nodded.  He went to pull the mug from my hands but I wouldn’t let it go. 

Instead I took a couple of huge slugs from it, “Now, just put more coffee into it and it will be fine.”  James went to the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot bringing it back to me.  He filled my mug.  I swirled the mug and took a drink.  Smiling, “Yum” I beamed.  I looked out the window.  More snow had fallen over night.  The sky was still filled with clouds, but not snowing.  At the moment.

James collected his mug and sank into the sofa with me.  He flipped on the TV and tuned in the local news.  There were the stories about roofs collapsing under the weight of the snow, power lines down, cars sliding off the roads – one accident ending in a death.  “I’m glad you were smart enough to not drive that night” James whispered to me.

“Me too.”

I looked into his eyes.  The passion I saw there made my knees weak.  I reached up and wrapped my fingers around his head, pulling him to me.  I kissed him gently.  His eyes widened.  He cupped my head and kissed me back just as tenderly.  “So how are we going to spend the next week or so?” I asked teasingly.

James tightened his arm around my waist pinning me to his body, “I can think of a way” he rubbed his hips into mine, “or two.”  He gently pushed me back, “Only if you want to.” 

I could tell he that although his voice was joking, his eyes said that he’d changed.  I was no longer just a fuck buddy.  I was a woman that he wanted to spend time with.  In more ways than one.

“I’d like that” I purred.  “Just remember, you are still working on my forgiveness.”

He showered kisses all over my face, slowly pulling me towards his bedroom, “I know a way to start working on that” he growled at me.

I just smiled and willingly let him lead me.

[sentientsky]

a tiny little ficlet based on this lovely comment from @queer4cryptids on this post! (i accidentally made it angsty, i’m so sorry!! but there’s comfort and gay yearning in there, i swear!) when the night falls low and settles against the side of the Earth; when the the dark begins to carry a certain weight, he shifts his stance. he lets himself breathe air he doesn't really need into lungs that exist simply by virtue of his inclination to breath. it's the same pattern Crowley's watched unfold a hundred million times times over—the stretching of a thread until it frays, three women, a set of blades; a wicked inevitability carried in the lines of time-weathered hands.

and still it never changes, never lessens the welling of grief that builds and breaks in his chest, that stagnates and stratifies like layers of sand upon gravel upon so many eons since he first fell from the sky and lost the right to mourn a woman hungry only for bread and a little kindness.

he leans back against a headstone, swallowing down a familiar hollowness. the sparrows have all taken root in the knots of tree trunks. the moon blinks back at him, clouds swaying like an eyelid closing to sleep.

he turns his face away from the light, sucks in breath for which he still has no need. the rough-hewn granite is going to scuff his coat; he knows this with the certainty of having lived in a world full of serrated edges for so many years. and yet he doesn't care. Crowley can't find it in him to give a damn because finally, finally he's there. he's there and he's real and tangible and it's been eleven months, two weeks, and four days since he's last felt the warmth of angelic skin so close to his own. not that he's been keeping count, of course. and Aziraphale's got that faraway look again. the one pressed into the lines of his face in the aftermath of a flood that tilted against the sky; the same one Crowley saw in the stark daylight of a death warrant unfurled and stamped with the name of the holy Mother herself. it's the same, hollow, teeth-gritted look Crowley himself wore as he stood on a hillside reeking of freshly-cut wood, bearing witness to yet another child of the Almighty thrown to the wolves. Aziraphale turns, then, and blue eyes meet black lenses meet amber-gold. "Crowley—" Aziraphale manages, choking it out in a half-whisper, like it hurts—like it scrapes his throat with bits of barbed wire. and, just like that, something in him is breaking and the oak trees are all whispering dangerous things and still, still he can't find a version of this story in which he doesn't lean closer, doesn't press himself forward into air that smells of earl grey tea and old books and something celestial and hallowed and holy underneath it all. and as though he's drowning—as though the moon doesn't watch them with a flickering gaze and the trees can't hear the brush of skin meeting skin—Aziraphale presses his fingertips to the side of Crowley's wrist. he moves no further. the air holds still, time seeming to freeze around them. it's intentional, he realizes; it's fire and it's heat and it's utterly fucking terrifying. even now, so far above ground, Crowley can nearly feel the weight of hellish eyes on his back. a shudder runs the length of his body. and yet. in the atomic space of that hungry, desperate, throat-baring yet, he turns his hand, trembling, to the side. he finds the angel's touch like a bird bearing North—like a compass forever calibrated to a single, fixed point.

"I know—" he rasps. “Angel, I know.” he twines his fingers with Aziraphale's, and it's positively electric. every cell in his tragically, wonderfully human body has turned pure gold, conducted and galvanized and sparking. a sharp, stilted inhale; a quiet anticipation carved out in the space between their pressed hands (and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...). the graveyard is still. the grief is there, still. the grief might always be there. but the sharp edges dull, the welling in his chest grows steady and slow and gentle. and the world becomes a little less difficult to bear with the two of them holding it up.

[kiyocuck]

silly

ok im sick as hell and unfortunately also very bored so im gonna write down some silly naeishimondo scenarios ive been brainrotting for a while

Makoto being sick like me and staying home, meanwhile both taka and mondo barge into his house, bringing in homemade soup and tea (both of which makoto already got), and while they're being sad over the fact their favorite little guy wont be at the academy with them for the rest of the week, komaru steals the soup and tea cuz she woke up sick too (from makoto). An alt ending is them giving makoto a Liiiittle kiss on the forehead, both of them thinking they wont get sick, and waking up with 40°C temperature the next day

Them all going to mondo's house for a hangout-sleepover bcuz hes the only one of the three with a queen-sized bed (lil context, after mondo quit being a biker gang leader [in a universe where daiya is alive cuz fuck you] him and his brother move to a more. "calm" place, just the two of them. they still hangout w the other gang members though). they all watch movies and taka drops dead snoring the second the clock hits 10pm bcuz his brain cant handle staying up later for "no reason" (he has pulled all nighters when it comes to studying). mondo falls asleep second, and makoto just watches them sleep peacefully before snuggling between them and going to sleep too (imagine cringing over what ur writing help)

Going home in the snowy weather after shopping all evening (taka made them both come with him). theyre all holding equal amount of bags, until mondo grabs them all and speedruns to their house cuz hes FREEZING, and boy oh boy does he not like the cold at all. after that he sticks himself to the heater for like 10 minutes, while makoto and taka think to themselves that he looks like hes purring next to it (they both assigned him a catboy in their heads cuz it makes him 10 times cuter (also my version of him has a default >:3 face that all owada family members have (its more noticable on daiya but still))

Continuing the last one, theyre cooking together now!!! mondo kinda sucks at it, makoto is trying his best, and taka is this 🤏 close to chewing a brick over how they cut the vegetables (they look chunky (his autism can't stand it, meanwhile their autisms dont care/dont even notice it (no im not projecting not at all))). eventually they make a nice meal (of unknown kind cuz i can never think of foods LMFAO) and it turned out surprisingly good. yum!

Pet assigning. as i mentioned makoto n taka have assigned mondo a cat/catboy, but the same applies for the others. taka is a dog, obviously, but specifically a husky BECAUSE (im gonna be so annoying about this): Hes black and white, hes dramatic and loud like how huskies are, very loving (as every dog), and when his hair grows out more and mondo touches it, it reminds him of how fluffy huskies' fur is. makoto is a bunny, but i unfortunately dont know many bunny breeds so i will probably elaborate more once i look up and decide. hes just short/"small" and silly like one, and his ahoge going down when hes sad resembles bunny ears going down. (btw if ur curious mondo is either a tiger (still a cat!!!) or a persian cat. bcuz i cant help but imagine him as a chonky orange persian cat that on one occasion scratches your eyes, and on another cuddles on your shoulders. la creatura)

i think thats all for now! most of my other scenarios are even more generic, like going on dates (aquarium, cafe, cinema etc) so i dont have that much to write LOL.

if you read the whole thing, heres some items for yuo 🍀🧭💎

[shallowoak]

Design Chatter - MLP East Blue Crew!

>> Link to the art here! <<

I've seen some fellow MLP au artists talk through their design ideas, so I thought I'd share my two cents and ramble a bit! Fair warning this will be long and there will be spoilers!

I kept a few simple guidelines for myself in mind:

Keep it fun and surprising, in the spirit of the original!

I draw in the G4 style, but features from every gen and toy line are fair game

Anypony who appeared in the comics as a cameo is not immune and has been redesigned for my selfish needs

I love back card / blind bag style character blurbs. I live for crumbs of worldbuilding XD

I've purposefully not included cutie marks because I suck at drawing them and I'd never finish a piece if I had to draw them :v (maybe a post for another time?)

🌅 Luffy 🌅

In-universe:

"Friendship isn't so much magic but a mandate for those this pony captain likes! This joyful newbie idolises Shanks, a fellow flightless Pegasus pirate. Though rubber wings are useless for flight, his ultra-lightweight body means he is still adept at aerial combat- falling slower and flinging faster. He passes the time between islands gliding by the mast with the gulls."

Design:

I'll level with you all; I'm not huge on red and black ponies. It's nothing personal to anyone who uses the scheme; it's just not my bag. The contrast is a bit harsh on my eyes. (And that every brony in 2015 slammed ponies with the scheme, forever ingraining that bias into me)

Rather, Luffy's scheme is based on his shorts! Light blue and white evoke the shoreline and sky, two limitless places where he spends a lot of time. A softer scheme allows me to draw his vest and hat without them becoming lost on his fur, and I feel it gels better with his light n' bright attitude to life. There's no way he's edgy enough for red and black-!

The swirls on his wings (and hoof fluff) are from the G3 depiction of Pegasi. It's such a gosh darn cute way to draw wings. It's also a fun little nod to the pattern on his fruit and Gear 5 form later on. Ponies are always skirting around the idea of destiny. For him to be a Pegasus was an easy pick for me, the wings symbolising both freedom of movement and spirit!

💚 Zoro 💚

In-universe:

"This aloof Zebra spends all year saving for Apple cider season, where he promptly blows all his bits in under a week. He often unknowingly intimidates those he meets; a bias unaided by the three swords he wields with magnets embedded into his front hooves."

Design:

I'm weak. I couldn't resist the alliteration of Zebra Zoro. You can blame Zecora for starting that. You can also blame her for the parallel of people misunderstanding Zoro's personality based on first impressions. I Pinkie-promise he's a big softie really.

Before I'm bashed, I'm well aware Zoro is Asian. In this instance, you can view that his being a Zebra just connotes that his ancestry lies outside of the East Blue rather than drawing any real-world correlation.

It's the little things that make this version uniquely Zoro, though. His stripes are sword-shaped, come in threes and neatly avoid his back. Hoof magnets were a popular play feature of G3 ponies before kids kept eating them 😶 But I think it's a fun way for Zoro to retain that Earth Pony-adjacent strength whilst still being able to hold all three swords. His stance has always looked weird, anyway.

🍊 Nami 🍊

In-universe:

"A light-footed, citrus-scented Pegasus who gambles with the best in Klugetown. Nothing escapes her- not even the bits from your purse! After a decade of being on high alert, she's more in tune with the weather than even other Pegasi. The sight of rainbows stretching across the sky makes her think of home."

Design:

Honestly, it's nice that we don't know anything about Nami's birth family. When she was adopted, she was just a baby, even younger than Sanji. Belle-Mere (Mare…) and Nojiko shaped her entire life. To that end, I wanted her design to be free of speculation and to focus on what we know for sure.

Her being a Pegasus was influenced by a few things. In G4, Pegasi often have an affinity for the weather and sky. Like Luffy, her wings symbolise the emphasis on freedom in her story. Farming is traditionally an Earth Pony job, so it also shows the disconnect between her passions and current situation.

In this case, the clipping of her wings doesn't stop her from sailing away any more than it does in canon. But it adds to the feeling of control Arlong holds over her, another physical reminder of her duty and self-sacrifice.

Despite what the timeskip art style wants us to believe, Nami is pretty but also really... normal. Normal proportions, face, hair, profession. She's weird for an OP character in that way. To reflect that, I decided that her coat should reflect the colour of the maps she creates. Unique from the pastels around her, but not super stand out, much like her orange mane. The darkened ends of her fur walk the line between showing hard graft and dirtied hooves 🥲 I expanded her tattoo to be a full leg design- 'cuz why shouldn't she show off the symbol of her life truly beginning!?

🎱 Usopp 🎱

In-universe:

"A young, apprehensive Changeling who often lives disguised as a Pony. He uses his transformations to bring stories to life and dazzle those he meets! When danger arises, he shifts into the form of a smaller animal and hides..."

Design:

The choice to make Usopp a Changeling speaks to his insecurity. Why present yourself as a village foal when you could be a great pony of the sea? Or anyone else you could dream up? It also speaks to my own insecurity as an artist, not touching the idea of drawing his nose on a horse face with a 10-foot pole. It's not happening, nuh-uh. It's a horn now for a reason, trust me!

But it also allows for some very literal metamorphosis as he grows throughout the series. His horns grow larger and change shape as the slingshots he uses evolve. (Yes, he absolutely does use his horns to fire things from!) In Pony form, his cutie mark changes to reflect which part of himself he identifies with -or has the most faith in- at any one moment. As an artist, I bet he has great fun drawing up new marks to use.

Rather than becoming a muscly bug after the skip, his wings literally break out from his shell. It isn't the end of his development, but it signifies his change in outlook and newfound faith in himself. Followers of God Usopp view his Pony form as one they, as "common folk" can easily comprehend, rather than his true nature.

He's the only one I drew as his timeskip design, just because it was the most interesting to me. Hyperfixation does strange things to a man.

🍥 Sanji 🍥

In-universe:

"A hot-headed Unicorn who breaks expectations, he fights rude customers with kicks that match the strength of a true Earth Pony! His unusual tail is a hot topic of speculation for off-duty chefs at the Baratie- but he won't speak a word about his past. Maybe try asking about his specials instead?"

Design:

Classic Unicorns are calm, refined and beautiful. Everything that Sanji is... on the surface. I love how Sanji constantly plays with our expectations; who says a creative can't kick ass? Further to that, Sanji's magic skills are wholly unimpressive, with a grand repertoire of two spells. It helps separate him from Robin, the actual magic scholar on board. As an Earth Pony unable to teach him, Zeff has always felt guilty.

His blue coat reflects the shirts he often wears, sure, but blue feels so appropriate for someone who loves the sea so much. It also allows for his fluffy black socks to stand out, coining his epithet. (If horse Sanji wore pants, would he wear them like this? Or like t h i s?) Not naming any names, Luffy he's the only fighter sensible enough to wear horseshoes to protect his feet and often visits Farriers when they make port.

His tail isn't hairless, but is covered in a thin layer of fur like his body until it reaches the tip. It's useful for working in the kitchen as it's easy to wrestle into a hair net. In the Baratie, he's often seen with a red bow decorating it, warning customers that he'll kick if provoked. This style of tail is a largely lost trait of old Unicorns, now most commonly seen in nobility who care a little too much about bloodlines. It's not a feature he's proud of, especially when it calls into question the nature of his relationship to Zeff- a pony he otherwise closely resembles.

[jeanie-g]

#29 jd/tz #29

merry christmas to all who celebrate!! in between gifts and lunch, i had time to finish this up lol. watch out; it's hot ;)

[#29] City on Fire! (Cast of Sweeney Todd)

It's the end of the world! Yes! / City on fire!

You know it's a big deal when the heat is breaking records in SoCal. Summers in Orange County are blistering as it is, but this week, someone must've pissed off Mother Nature—because the temperature on Trevor's phone is in the triple digits, and he thinks he might just die.

It's been steadily climbing all week, starting at 95° F on Monday, ticking up to 97° and 100° on Tuesday and Wednesday, and then rocketing to 107° on Thursday—all with 100% humidity to boot. It's September, too, which does not bode well for the planet as a whole, no matter what those cucks on Fox News say.

And Trevor and Jamie have central AC, but the poor system is working overtime to keep them cool. It wasn't built for this kind of heat, after all, even in their swanky apartment. The maintenance guys have already had to fix several of the master units on the roof, and now everyone in the building has to keep their thermostats at 90° so the condensers actually work (aka they don't get hot air blowing through their vents).

The two of them spend a lot of their time at the rink during a normal week, but they've basically been living at it these past few days, altering their workout routines to avoid the stuffy gym. The ice has to be kept at a certain temperature so it doesn't melt, and at one point, Trevor seriously considered bringing a sleeping bag and camping out in the stands.

When they're home, though, they usually fall into the same routine: take a cold shower, wear the smallest amount of layers as possible (without walking around naked), stick appendages and/or head in the freezer, lie down on the linoleum kitchen tiles, and then take another cold shower.

Things take a turn for the worse when Trevor wakes up on Friday covered in more sweat than usual. When he yanks his phone off the charger and checks the weather, he almost whimpers. 112°.

Trevor throws his phone down and peels himself out of bed. He nixed his comforter on Wednesday, but he's still gone through three sets of sheets. He changes into some fresh, light clothes and heads for the kitchen. He needs water.

His train of thought slow peters out when he sees Jamie already standing at the center island. Namely, Jamie standing shirtless. Namely, Jamie standing shirtless with sweat running down his chest and torso.

Now, don't get Trevor wrong—he's seen Jamie shirtless before. They dress and un-dress at the rink in front of each other all the time, but there's something about this sight that makes Trevor's belly go all swirly.

The early morning sun is turning his skin orange; his usually neatly-trimmed chest hair is wet and a little unruly; Jamie's wearing his cross, which he never wears during games, and it's almost sinful how good it looks dangling from his neck. Trevor imagines taking it between his teeth, sees himself licking a stripe across Jamie's pecs, nosing the trail of hair down his abdomen and coating his senses with Jamie's musky scent.

Trevor must be standing there long enough for it to be suspicious, because suddenly Jamie's clearing his throat and looking at Trevor with a confused expression.

Trevor shakes his head, like that'll dislodge all of his strange thoughts. Jamie's an attractive guy, and he's got a good body, but Trevor's never seen him in that light before. He doesn't really know what to think of it, nor does he have the capacity to make sense of it right now. He makes a bee line for the fridge.

"Scorcher today," Jamie groans. "112°, can you believe it? It broke a record from 2020."

Trevor nods, opening the fridge doors. He tries to keep his voice even. "I know. It sucks."

"I was itching to run, so I tried but..." Jamie laughs hollowly. Huskily, Trevor's brain corrects. Is he having a heat stroke right now?

"... I made it halfway down the street before I had to turn around. It's impossible."

Trevor's hands wrap around a water bottle, barely even registering Jamie's words, and he has a horrible realization: he has to turn around now.

Maybe it was a mirage; maybe Jamie really is wearing a shirt and Trevor has a fever and he's suffering intense, horny hallucinations. He almost convinces himself that the sight won't greet him a second time, but when he turns around, of course it does.

Jamie's five feet away from him now, standing with his hip popped up, in the (tiniest? tiniest) shorts Trevor has ever seen. His tongue dries up, and for once he thinks he means that literally.

It's actual work for Trevor to bring his eyes back up to Jamie's face, and oh. How did he not notice before? Jamie's hasn't shaved his face either. A five o'clock shadow darkens his features, the stubble rough above his lips and down around his chin. He can almost hear the sound it'd make against Trevor's neck...

And suddenly Trevor is very aware of his nether regions, because they are starting to take an interest. He cannot pop a boner right now. He thinks he'd actually have a heart attack and die right here in the kitchen.

He somehow finds the coordination to stumble out of the kitchen, water bottle in hand.

"Z? You good?" echoes off the walls, barely heard over the roaring in Trevor's ears.

Trevor immediately ducks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. It's time for that cold shower, anyways. And if Trevor jerks off to the thought of ripping off those tiny shorts and going to town on Jamie's dick—he'll just blame the heat. And climate change.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

[cloudwatchwithme]

waiting game (valgrace au)

tw/warnings: multiple mentions of food, non canon ship, the gays™️ (i'm queer i'm joking 😭😭)

summary: fluff, Leo runs a market stand and Jason is a regular (yes it’s very cliche)

The first time Jason visited the stall, it was Leo’s first week. Not his first day, no, that had been on Monday and it was Wednesday, but he was still getting used to the swing of it. Leo was used to working with mechanics and metal and things there were a one-way method to fix, but this was a taco stall, not a car garage. He was gaining renewed respect for food industry workers, honestly - damn, were customers rude sometimes. So it came as a welcome surprise when the next customer to step up to the stall was a tall blond guy. Hot, Leo noted, but Piper would probably say Leo thought that about every second man (she had a point). He snapped out of it and nodded at the guy, who ordered a nondescript order and stepped back away. That was the first time Jason ordered. 

The second time Jason ordered, it was a week later, and it was hot as fuck. The country was going through a heatwave, so the market was emptied than usual, but the same blond guy from the week before turned up. Same day as last week, Leo realised. The guy gave him a small smile before he ordered, a faint scar on the side of his lip twitching. He payed, and Leo wiped the sweat from his neck and made the order, and he left again. 

Four weeks later, Jason was back again. He had been back every week, actually. Sometimes he showed up with a friend or two, and sometimes he’d say something about the weather. His name was Jason, Leo learnt (not technically because he had told him, but because he had overheard it) and he always had Wednesday afternoons free. 

“Hi again,” he said, like he always did, and the scar on his mouth quirked up at the edge like it always did, and Leo lost all the thoughts in his head  (like he always did). 

“Yo.” Of course that was his response. Because ‘yo’ always wins over hot boys. Fuck. Even tacos were easier to communicate with than people. “Same as usual?” He asked, risking a quick glance up, and that was the right move because Jason’s smile was still on his face. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty basic.” He answered. A piece of gold spun hair fell into his blue eyes (perfect eyes, like the sky, Leo thought). “Classes are over now, but I’ll still be back every week. Your stall has been a kind of stress reliever between exams, man.” The look on his face was something of affection (something Leo wasn’t used to seeing at all) and what did that mean? But there was a queue, and he needed the pay.  So Leo finished assembling his taco, and the blonde ducked his head and waved goodbye and left. 

A fortnight later, Jason was back again, and Leo was having a conversation with him - a whole fucking conversation, which was crazy. 

‘Yeah, so, it’s just been me and my mom. And you?’ He absentmindedly sprayed water on the empty hotplates, wiping them off with a rag. Jason remained quiet for a second. 

‘Yeah, my dad’s never been around, and me and my mom don’t really interact, so. Mostly just me.’

Leo nodded. It was a topic he was familiar with. ‘Yeah. It sucks.’

Jason laughed a little, caught off guard. ‘Really does.’

Leo handed him his taco and they said their goodbyes and he guessed this was how it’s going to be. Pining after a regular customer, having short conversations about intrusive subjects over the counter, and not really much further than that. That's fine, he told himself. As long as he got to see him. 

It's a month later, and this time, it’s Leo’s last shift. He’d only been working there for around three months, but the owner called him and told him they were shutting down, and he figured that’s that. He’d enjoyed the job, but not as much as he’d enjoyed seeing Jason, so when he turned up at the stall, Leo couldn't muster the words to tell him this is pretty much it. He didn’t want their last conversation to be about the shut down of the stall, hell, he didn't want this to be their fucking last conversation at all, but what could he do? So he laughed and smiled and said ‘see you next week’ and he cleaned off the hotplates and fuck. Fuck. 

Then it’s a week later and the stall was gone but Leo was still at the market. He wasn't entirely sure why, or if this would really work very well at all, but he decided it was worth a shot (and Piper would totally kick his ass if he didn’t try). He couldn’t really remember what time Jason usually arrived, so by the time he got there, Leo had been sitting on the ground for a several hours. It was a really bad plan, but it was worth it when Leo finally saw a pair of worn converse come to a stop in front of him. Leo looked up, shielding his face from the sun. ‘Hi.’

Jason was laughing. Leo had been going for more of a swoon or a look of awe, but Jason was really pretty, so it worked. ‘Hello.’ Jason stood there for a second. ‘Where’s your taco stand?’ 

The height imbalance of Jason standing and Leo sitting was beginning to make Leo nervous, so he got to his feet. ‘The stand?' Leo replied vaguely. 'It shut down, yeah.’ 

Jason processed this information. He looked at Leo. ‘And you’re still here.’

Leo shuffled slightly. ‘Uh, yeah, well. You come every wednesday, so I thought I would wait. But then I didn’t know what time you’d arrive, so I’ve been here for um. Three hours.'

Jason squinted at him. His face was now a vague pink colour, which Leo would find gratifying if his face wasn't also burning. 

‘And you’re doing this for all the regulars, or is this just a me thing?’

Leo nodded awkwardly. Holy shit, what was he doing. ‘Just a you thing. I also maybe wanted to ask you for your number. And also see if you wanted to go somewhere. With me.’ He added. Because that totally wasn’t obvious already. 

Jason looked at Leo again. ‘Yeah. Yes. That would be nice. I mean you really could’ve asked before now.’ He was smiling, and the scar on his lip was curved slightly upwards. Thank god Leo bothered waiting to meet him. He didn't know what he would do without Jason's little scar-edged smile (which was incredibly corny, but that’s not out of character for Leo). 

‘Yeah. Ok. Cool.’ He said, which again is extremely uncool, and what had happened to his suavity?? 

Jason reached out a hand, and Leo took it, and fuck, they’re holding hands now, yep cool ok holy shit cool cool cool ok. 

‘I do have one more thing to say, though.’

Leo snapped out from his internal panicking. ‘Yeah?’

Jason was laughing again. The sunlight hit his glasses perfectly. ‘This was a really shitty plan.’

‘Hey!!’

an:

hi! ok i have to say i definitely messed up the tense on this bc i had to edit and i couldn't focus?? sorry about that :/ anyway this is my first time posting my writing on here and idk how it is?? i've had this in drafts for a while now and i rly enjoyed writing it, so i'll probably do this again! my requests are closed rn (until january) because of the weird thing going around that's happening to ask inboxes, but if you have a request, dm me! ty for reading!

[impishtubist]

You’re so so right about the weather. I cannot stand heat, which truly makes hurricane season awful (aside from the obvious reasons of the danger and everything) because Florida + hurricanes = no power so the heat is so much fun to deal with when there is no AC. I think we got maybe 3 weeks total of cool days here this winter, which is an improvement of the winter of I believe last year that had zero cool days. To clarify, I’m using Florida standard for cold, meaning the high was 60-something and the low was in the 40s. We do not get anything like a New York winter.

Anon, you have all my sympathy. I could rant for DAYS about summer and the heat. I will also say that us summer haters have it far, far worse than winter haters. I do not care about your wintertime SAD. I do not care that you don't like the cold. I do not care that you don't like the dark. You only have to suck it up for daylight savings 4 months out of the year. You also get, what, three or four months of true winter weather now anywhere in the globe thanks to global warming? You're FINE. Especially since global warming is just going to make that time shrink in the coming years/decades. Plus, there are ways the average person can actually escape the cold, like layering up and making fires. When it's hot out, can you peel off your skin? Can you make ice by rubbing two sticks together? No, so sit down and shut the fuck up.

There is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can be done to escape the heat. Air conditioning? Yeah, A/C units, if you're lucky enough to have one, can only effectively cool a house by 20 degrees. That was fine 50 years ago, but nowadays when summers are regularly 100+ degrees? Your A/C can only get you down to 80, which is still AWFUL indoors. Your only option is to burrow underground, really, which isn't exactly a fucking solution!

Also, heat is the natural disaster that causes the most deaths worldwide every year. This is what summer lovers cheer for every spring? Gross.

Sorry, I went and ranted anyway. I hate heat and I have no patience for people that like this weather. I'm a raging bitch from March-November and I'm not sorry about it. Fix the planet and maybe I'll stop being a bitch.

You have it much worse than I do down in the south, and I am so sorry, Anon. I wish there was something I could actually do for you, but feel free to vent anytime. Also, I'm dead serious when I say this: if you or anyone reading this has the means to do so, make a plan eventually to move north. It's only going to get worse down south in the coming decades. I'm making my own plan to get even farther north than where I am now. I realize this isn't feasible for most people. There are financial or familial or physical or health constraints, or you just don't plain want to leave your homes. I get it. But if you can, at least see if you can make a plan. Because climate change isn't stopping and it's only going to get worse.