#went to a folk ball <3

[elmaxlys]

i never touched so many men's hands in one night before, they truly made my head spin😳😳❤

[lorenzosmicropp]

Pov: ur staring at me after you told me The Valentino Rossi liked your spaghetti so much that he personally took you out for drinks and a meal

[es-draws]

If You Gain Faster, Does It Go to Your Belly?

Strap in folks, we’re going to take a deep dive into the Science of Weight Gain™. And for those impatient readers, the answer is…

Yes! Gaining weight quickly does seem to lead to more belly gains

As a precursor, I am not a doctor or medical researcher. I thought this study was interesting, and wanted to talk about it! But please don't take this as advice. Please don't go and gain based on the information presented here.

Let's start with some definitions. What types of fat are there? There are generally two categories - subcutaneous and visceral. Subcutaneous is the fat we all know and love; the soft fat that forms just under your skin, and is most commonly associated with the appearance of being "fat". This fat can form anywhere on the body, and is generally considered to be the healthier kind of fat. Then there is visceral fat, which is fat that accumulates deep in the abdomen behind the muscle layer. This kind of fat leads to a "ball belly" or "apple" shape, where the midsection is rounded but also firm, since fat is under muscle. Visceral fat surrounds organs, and for that reason is generally considered to have higher health risks.

Next, when you gain weight, what normally contributes to where the weight will go? There's a lot of research that shows this is mostly determined by genetics. What foods you eat, what exercises you do, and other environmental factors contribute little to where the weight goes[1]. In general, people tend to gain more subcutaneous fat than visceral fat[2].

So now to the question at hand - anecdotally among gainers, it's said that if you gain weight quickly, it will go to the belly. Is this true?

Turns out, a study has already been done on this very subject.

Let's talk about the Science™

23 subjects (15 men, 8 women) - all of whom were relatively thin (23.6 BMI) - were placed on an "overfeeding interval" of 8 weeks, where they were given 400–1200 extra calories over their normal intake. This was done in the form of ice cream shakes, snickers bars, or boost meal supplements[3]. In particular, this overfeeding period is similar to a lot of the rapid weight gain methods used in the feedism community.

Participants were weighed daily, and body fat was measured at the beginning and end of the study. Body fat was broken down into 3 categories; visceral fat, upper-body subcutaneous fat (fat around the midsection), and lower-body subcutaneous fat (fat around the butt and thighs).

Here are the results: on average, subjects on average weighed 158 lbs to start, and gained around 8 lbs over two months. On average, they gained 1 lb of visceral fat, 2 lbs of lower body fat, and 4.5 lbs of upper body fat.

What does this mean? It means that during rapid weight gain, over half of the fat gained goes to the belly. But importantly, it goes to subcutaneous fat - the fat directly under the skin that we associate with soft, jiggly bellies. Very little went to the visceral fat associated with firm, round bellies.

Anecdotally, this seems to correlate with what’s commonly seen with rapid weight gain in the feedism community. Most gainers, especially thinner gainers, tend to notice rounder bellies when they first put on weight. But this weight also tends to be soft - often times, gainers can still squeeze and squish their midsection, which seems to prove fat has built up just under the skin. Later, once they've gained more or the weight has settled, the fat may distribute more evenly over the body. Again, this is just anecdotal. But the data seems to support what we see!

There are still some things this study does not answer. There's no data published on biological differences, for example. There are almost double the amount of men compared to women in the study, and AMAB folks are known to gain more upper body weight compared to AFAB folks. We do not know if these participants are gaining in different ways. Also, while subjects were on average at a healthy BMI when the study began, we know that BMI is a flawed metric. It does not mean they were all thin. Some may have been overweight, or may have gained weight or lost weight previously. These factors might also contribute where weight is likely to settle, and we cannot infer from the published data alone.

And though this study shows that gaining weight quickly will lead to belly gains, it doesn’t answer why. For this I have a theory, but that will have to wait for the next installment of the Science of Weight Gain™.

So there you have it! If belly gains are what you’re searching for, gain and gain quickly! But be careful… once you start, it may be hard to stop. And soon you may find that your newly-formed belly is just the start.

[1]There's research showing sugar-dense and high-fat foods leads to more visceral fat gains, but proportionally this is very small compared to genetic or sex factors.

[2]AMAB folks, in particular, are more likely to gain visceral fat.

[3]This study sounds like a feeder's dream and it gets my blood up just reading it. How do I become an official Science Feeder™?

[mrslankyman]

Sinfully Gorgeous pt. 2

Vox x (fem) over lord reader

Smut

Word count: 5K

Working on: Part 3 - cancelled (sorry!)

3 weeks. 

It had been 3 weeks since you shot that porno with Vox. So why in the HELL was everyone in HELL still raving over it?!

It wasn’t anything special.

It was a brand deal and that was it. It wasn’t like you knew it was going to be Vox. Valentino stated after the shoot he chose Vox since it would boost you both. Sure it did but at what cost?

Your phone was flooded with texts and emails from sinners asking if you and Vox were a thing.

Have you joined the Vees?

Were you and Vox fucking on the low?

How long were you two together?

All these questions were getting to your head and making you sick. 

You laid back in your expensive bed. The silky pillows that most sinners could never afford comforting your head. Phone in hand you scrolled through your feed. Vox’s news show popped. 

“Top of the hour sinners. Today we will be discussing the ongoing discussion that I and I'm sure our lovely {Y/N} is seeing too.” He clasped his hands together and turned to the screen in front of him that was showing photos of sinners questions.  

“Has {Y/N} joined the Vees?” He read aloud. “No she has not, though I would not be opposed to the idea.” He chuckled, sending a wink to the camera. 

You groaned and fast forward on the video stopping when a clip of the porno popped up on the screen. Curious of what he would say about it. You hadn’t talked to him since a day after that was filmed. 

“How did it feel to fuck the {Y/N}?” He chuckled as he read that aloud. A smirk crawled onto his face. “Well folks I’ll tell ya. It was better than any sex I myself have ever had.” He leaned forward covering half his mouth with the side of his hand. “A little secret for you all, she has the tightest pussy you’ll ever fuck in hell.” He laughed leaning back. “Yes folk it’s true she was definitely a virgin and safe to say I took that card from her.” His cocky laugh echoed in your head. 

He took your virginity? 

What was he a fucking idiot?

Embarrassing you on Hell's public news. 

You were not a virgin, far from it and for this cocky ass tv faced man to state he was the lucky one to take it from you made you seeth. 

You instantly opened up your messages and searched his name in your contact. Typing out a text. Fingers flying across the screen as anger edged in every digital word typed. 

{You}: who in the HELL do you think you are? Saying you took my virginity on the fucking news? Real mature of you. What the fuck are we teenagers in high school. If you ever fucking do something like this again I will make sure you and your little fucking news channel are never broad casted again. 

{Vox}: Wow, didn't suspect you to see it so soon. What's the matter, I was just messing around. I bet it was the best sex you’ve ever had, why not say your best was also your first? 

{You}:oh were cocky as fuck huh? You really think you were the best? Keep dreaming. 

{Vox}: I must have been something for you to go off script. 

{You}: fuck you, you went off script as well. 

{Vox}: oh you wanna fuck me again? Maybe I'll make it an even better time, we can make our own script. 

{You}: you know what I meant. Never fucking mention me on your little show again. It was a one time deal. 

{Vox}: aren’t you just a ball of sunshine. Whatever you say darling. I’ll erase that part of the segment from the show and their memories. 

{You}: good, the only time your fucking mind control has been used for an actual purpose. 

{Vox}: Or I can just keep it up. You know you’re not being very kind. 

{You}: oh fuck off this is hell. I don’t need to be kind to the man who just publicly embarrassed me. 

{Vox}: and the man who publicly pleasured you. 

{You}: just take it down. 

{Vox}: yes ma’am. 

You groaned and turned your phone off. Throwing it to the floor and laying down fully. Pulling the covers over your head and closing your eyes. Sleeping the anger and annoyance off. 

—

Your alarm buzzed in the morning. You groaned and woke up grabbing your phone from the floor and turning it off. But not before you saw the message from Alastor. 

“You’re a virgin?”

That fucker didn’t delete the segment!

You dashed around your house putting on an outfit and doing your make up the fastest you had ever. Your shoes were on in seconds and out the door you went. 

You called a cab and got in, instructing them to take you to the Vees tower. Of course you know the consequences of this.

Everyone would assume you were going to see Vox in a different way. When in reality his ass was going to get a fist in his screen. 

The cab dropped you off and you paid them before getting out. Marching up to the front of the building. A few people looked over. Snapping pictures and videos. You rolled your eyes and pressed the buzzer on the door. 

“Who is it?” Voxs voice played through the small speaker.

“{Y/N}.” The second you said your name the doors opened. You smirked slightly and headed inside jumping as the doors closed behind you harshly. 

“Vox! Where the fuck are you we need to have a talk!” You yelled walking around the lobby looking for any sign of him. Footsteps echoed down the hall and there he was. A smile on his stupid flat screened face. 

“Ah {Y/N} So nice of you to stop by-” You grabbed him by his suit's flaps and slammed him against the wall. A groan escaped his lips and his screen displayed a loading circle before his eyes came back. 

“You asshole, I told you to take that segment down!” You screamed in his face without giving a second to think. “Do you know who the fuck I am?! I will end you!” You leaned into his face. Your spit landing on his screen. He glared at you but on the inside he was loving the attention. 

Your hands on him was enough to make him melt. But he had to be sure not to display it too much. Or you’d let go and call him weird. 

“You can end me anytime you want.” His words were smooth and flirtatious. He obviously did not understand the gravity of the situation he was in. 

“You do not wanna fuck with me Vox.” You warned re-shoving him against the wall. He grunted and grabbed your arms. “You know I would love to fuck with you.” He chuckled, eyeing you with a smirk. “You little-” Your grip tightened on him getting ready to shove him again. 

“{Y/N}!” He yelled his right eye widening as he used his mind control on you. You froze your eyes going wide. Your grip on him faltered as you shook your head. The daze wears off. 

“Why don’t you calm down?” He offered, pulling your arms down from his suit. “Don’t use that fucking mind control shit on me.” You pulled your arms away from him. He sighed and rested his hand on his hips. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was full of annoyance now. 

“Delete the segment. That’s all I want. I’ll leave you alone and you do the same.” You held out your hand. “Deal?” You tilted your head, pink fire appearing around your palm. 

“No deals. I just promise I will. I’m no idiot. I know how you pull strings.” He pushed your hand away, the fire disappearing. You groaned and pulled your hand back. 

“Very well.” You nodded even though a part of you knew he would never take that segment down fully. 

“I’ll go delete it.” He fixed his tie, closing his eyes. “Good.” You said before a ding came from your phone. You held it up. “At Voxs darling?” Alastor had texted. A part of you hated Charlie for getting him onto this phone kick. He was so against technology until he was told he could text you whenever. 

Vox opened one eye as he heard the ding. He eyed you and read the text. The words Darling and Alastor made his circuits spark. Why in the hell did that old timey prick have your number? 

“I better leave before everyone in hell assumes we're seeing each other. I do not need that in my life.” You shoved your phone in your pocket. Looking up at Vox whose face had a rather.. Concerning smile displaying. 

He let out a laugh though it glitched. He stepped closer to you. His hand grabbed your arm pulling you to him. “Why the fuck is the radio demon texting you?” His voice deepened. Eyes squinting as he grabbed your phone from your pocket. 

“Hey!- what the fuck.” You squirmed in his grip. A tsk tsk came from him as he used his eye to unlock your phone. Reading you and Alastors messages. Anger surged through him as you both had been sending jokes about him. His grip on you tightened and he squeezed your phone in his other hand till it shattered into pieces. 

“Vox what the fuck!-” You watched as he broke your phone, your attention being snapped back to his face as he slammed you up against the wall this time. 

He laid his arm next to your head on the wall and his other hand gripped your neck.  

“I’m not taking the segment down. You wanna talk shit about me to that damn radio demon go ahead. I'll say whatever I want about you. You are nothing to me.” His words were low and strung out. His eyes were wide and red drool dripped from his mouth. Though his grip on your neck was tight it wasnt hard enough to really choke you out. 

That was one thing he did not want to do. 

He was pissed off but not necessarily at you. The idea that Alastor got more of your attention than him is what pissed him off. He knew it was such a stupid thing to be mad over.

But he wanted you. Even if he had to pretend he didn’t. 

Your eyes squinted and you squirmed under him. Truthfully he didn’t scare you. This position didn’t make you feel threatened, it made you feel.. Other things. 

In a dark and twisted way his anger really made you think of that shoot. How his hands gripped your sides and he’d moan before glitching out. 

“If you wanna scare me you’re gonna have to try harder than this.” You grabbed his face. Your hand pulling him closer. “Cause all I can think about is you glitching out before you cummed inside me.” Your words made his screen display a light shade of red. 

“I-”

“You want that again hmm?” You kissed his screen. “Want to feel my tight pussy as you said? I guess since it was the best I’ve ever had you’d think I would’ve been begging you for more.” You whispered, making your voice low and seductive. His grip faltered as his screen turned red. His eyes drooped as you talked to him sensually. 

“Too bad I wasn’t.” You cooed, kicking him in the crotch. He groaned and keeled over. Holding his crotch in his hands. “Fuck fuck fuck..” He groaned in pain as you stepped over him. 

“You owe me a phone.” You spat on his withering form and walked out.

–-

Safe to say he gave you a new phone. That part of the segment was erased. To your knowledge from the general public of hell. Knowing Vox he probably cut it from half the people's memories and kept it in the other to confuse them. 

What an ass hole. 

Today you were off to Alastor's radio tower. He wanted to have you on this new segment he was working on. Whatever that meant. 

You had made it to the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie showed you to Alastors tower. You thanked her and headed inside. He greeted you and showed you the different buttons and the mic. Getting you accustomed to the technology before having a seat with you. 

Not having a camera in your face was both relaxing and strange. This seemed more like a conversation you were having with a friend that just so happened to be recorded. 

“Today I am here with my dear friend {Y/N}.” Alastor spoke into his mic. Smiling your way as you said hello. 

“So why don’t you tell everyone what it’s like to be the fashion overlord?” He handed you his mic. Urging you to introduce yourself further. 

After the basic introduction was done he began to ask you questions. It slowly became clear to you what he was doing. 

“What is your opinion on Vox?” He smirked and leaned your way. That question made you groan.

“That man? Come now Alastor. You know he isn’t something to talk about.” You leaned back in your chair and your reply made Alastor chuckle. 

“Go on dear. Just tell us about him.” He leaned the mic closer to you. 

“Fine.” You took the mic and leaned up. 

“Vox is something. Not the kind of something you’d want either. He is terrible in bed.” You snickered at the idea that Vox would be listening to you. “Oh is he now? I do believe we all saw that video dear. It seems the opposite.” He eyed you a shit eating grin on his face. 

“That’s what a script is for.” You sneered. 

“There's a theory you went off script. After all that Valentino did post it.” He checked his claws smirking. 

You groaned as Alastor was just doing this to stir drama. He hated Vox but loved to mess with you. So he was playing both ways. 

“Anyways, besides that he is a prick and snoops on everyone. He is fucking insane but I suppose that’s why he’s here. If you are thinking about trying to get with that man please do so he will leave me alone.” You handed the mic back to Alastor. He was holding in his laugh. “Thank you dear for your lovely insight on that clout chasing mediocre video podcasts.” He ended the broadcast and sighed.   

—

About 4 hours after the broadcast a ding sounded from your phone. Either it was Alastor or some random person. 

You checked the message and groaned as the name displayed on your screen. 

Vox.

Of course. 

You slid open your phone and sat down on your couch to answer him. 

{Vox}: doing a broadcast with the radio demon to degrade me? Really. After you begged me to delete your segment.

{You}: what's the matter? Thought you liked being degraded 

{Vox}: I'm not doing this. I’m gonna have to make you understand. 

{You}: oh really? Why don’t you just face that you suck in bed and you suck even more as a person. 

{Vox}: I suck in bed? Oh sweet heart. I don’t believe that's what you truly think. 

{Vox has sent a video} 

You pressed play, wishing you didn’t as a clip from the porno played. You were riding him moaning his name and begging him to go faster. His fingers digging into your sides as he rammed into you on your command. 

{You}: have to give the audience what they want.

{Vox}: oh yeah? What if there wasn’t an audience? 

{You}: then none of that would’ve happened. I’d be as quiet as a mouse.

{Vox}: we’ll see about that. 

{You}: what's that mean? 

:seen 3 minute ago: 

“Bitch.” You turned your phone off and laid down on the couch. Letting your mind wander back to the shoot. Perhaps you did enjoy him a little more than you’d like to admit. But you’d never tell him that. Or anyone for that matter. 

It’s bad enough there were more theories going around on you two. How the hatred was an act so you could keep things private. How it was fake or just a stunt for money.

You’d let the public guess and argue over it. You had no intentions on stating anything as of yet. 

So not thinking much of anything you turned on your tv and sat back. 

You sat up a little as you tv went to static. A blue glow came from it after a moment and a shock wave burst from it. The room went black and then the tv turned back on. Vox stood in front of you. Blocking the tv from view. 

“What the- Vox what the fuck!” You sat up all the way as Vox stepped closer with a smile on his face. 

 “We don’t have an audience here.” He leaned down looming over you as. Leaning back into the couch you slowly smirked. “Oh is that so? You wanna see if you can really work your magic on me?” You teased him watching as his face grew more annoyed. 

“Yes I do.” He put a finger under your chin and lifted it up. “I wanna prove to you that going off the script was because I am good at what I do. Not because you wanted to promote your bullshit brand.” He chuckled and moved you down on the couch to a lying position. 

“Oh you really wanna prove a point? Then I'm gonna make mine. I bet you can’t make me make a single sound.” You snickered as he threw his hat off to the ground. 

“Fine but I'm gonna make you eat those words.” He leaned down and kissed you. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. 

He slid his tongue inside your mouth. You closed your eyes and let your tongues tangle together. 

His hand slid down your sides and grabbed your jeans. You didn’t make a noise, the only sound was your pants rubbing together as Vox began to grind against you. 

A part of you just wanted to give in. Let him take you and win. But the bitch inside you wanted to win to shove it in his face every day. So you suppressed your moans and pulled back from the kiss.

He stared down at you and smirked, “Come on.. Just a little peep.” He groaned and made a quick upwards motion with his hips. It felt good you wouldn’t lie. 

You shook your head and smirked though earning an annoyed groan from the man above you. “Good thing we just started.” His voice was low as he undid your pants and yanked them off with a swift movement. 

You stared up at him and smirked. He slid off his blazer and undid his tie. The only thing left was his striped shirt. 

You sat up and pushed him down instead. He looked at you confused before smirking. He liked this and he didn’t care if you didn’t care in the moment if you didn’t like him how he liked you. Any form of attention from you was good. 

The feeling of you sitting on his bulge made his screen glitch as a low moan escaped him. He wanted to hear your approving moans as well but you weren’t giving it to him. You just moved against him with the best poker face he had ever seen. 

“F- fuck..” His voice buffered as he grabbed your hips and lifted you off him slightly. He didn’t want this to be over too soon. 

“I’m gonna break you. Just you wait.” He clawed at the sides of your underwear. Breaking the thin fabric, grabbing them as they fell down. He tossed them to the side and looked at you.

You blushed. Thanking Lucifer a blush didn’t count as a noise. That action was pretty hot. The desire in his eyes shone through. He slid off two of his claws. Just as he did for the shoot.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked them. Red saliva littered them. You anticipated the feeling of them inside you. Trying to prepare yourself so you didn’t moan. 

But he didn’t just slide them in. He circled his fingers around your clit. 

Smirking as he saw you twitch. Biting your lip before going back to a straight face. 

“Oh come on. I almost got you.” He laughed and slid one finger in. Pushing it in and out before adding the second and curling them inside. 

He kept pumping them in and out at different paces trying to make you moan. Anything really. A small gasp or groan. 

He wasn’t given the pleasure. 

You just closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling. You hadn't met a man who could finger this good. He sure was something and you would love to keep this up. But his fingers just weren’t like his dick. Which was under you twitching and leaking pre cum. 

Just waiting for it’s turn inside. So you grabbed his wrist and he slid out his fingers. 

“Come on.. I’ll only give it to you if you beg.” He smirked and slid his finger down your slit teasingly. You shook your head. 

“Come on!” His voice statticed and he shoved his dick inside you. The amount of force you had to use to suppress your moan was astounding. 

He groaned as he noticed you didn't make a sound. 

“Fine, but I'm still gonna give you a damn good time. So you can’t say im shit at this.” he pulled out of you and flipped you over. Pushing you down under him. He wrapped your legs around him and slowly slid inside you again. Leaning his head back a quiet moan escaping his lips. 

You grabbed his shoulders and bit your lip. With each steady thrush the feeling of giving up echoed in your mind. It was starting to hurt holding in your noises. His eyes were squeezed shut, teeth bared and red drool dripping from his mouth. Blue static came from him as soon as he picked up his pace. 

“F-f-fuck.. I fucking hate you.” He slammed into you and a quiet moan escaped your lips. 

His eyes shot open and he looked down at you. Your face was red and sweaty. You covered your mouth, a smirk displayed on his face.

“What was that?” He taunted and slid all the way out of you then back in. A quiet moan escaped your mouth again. 

“Yeah that's right, I knew you couldn’t last forever.” He chuckled, his cocky attitude back. He kept his thrush gentle and slow. You gave in and let your moans fill the room. Vox loved the sounds. All your attention on him every moan, grunt, and whimper from your mouth was for him. It made his dick even harder. “Vox..please.. Please I'm.. I’m almost..” You stared into his eyes on the verge of orgasm. 

“Go ahead, we’ll do it together darling.” He slid his hand down and circled your clit and thrusted into you on more time. His cum filling your inside as yours too gave way and hit your orgasm.

His screen glitched out and his voice buffered as he moaned your name. 

After you both came down from your highs you looked into his eyes. 

“I hate you.” You glared at him. 

“You may hate me but I know you love him.” He chuckled as he slid his dick out, rubbing it against your slit. Earning an annoyed groan from you. 

“This was fun. Good to know you enjoyed it.” He winked and stood up. Putting on his clothes. He walked down your hall. You groaned and looked down at the cum on your couch. Annoyed now. 

He came back with a damp towel. He pushed you down gently and cleaned you up. Then rubbed the excess off the couch. 

“Gotta keep my toy clean.” He pinched your face before sliding his claws back on. 

“Least you have decent manners.” You scoffed and sat up. 

“Of course.” He smiled and glitched out. Disappearing into the tv. The room went black before the lights turned on. 

You got dressed and sat on the couch. Embarrassingly repeating the way he moaned your name in your head over and over. 

Why did you let him win? 

—

Today was your and Alastors photo shoot. You were modeling Sinfully Gorgeous but just a few of the modest outfits. With Alastors old time camera it made things look more classy. So he had agreed to do a small shoot in your studio. 

He had arrived about an hour ago. He was all dressed up just waiting for you now. You had gone for an old timey style of makeup and hair. 

Walking out of your dressing room he looked over. His eyes widened and a pleasant smile erased the plain one. 

“You look lovely darling.” He titled his head. “Thank you. You look rather handsome yourself.” You complimented back, gaining a chuckle from him. 

“Shall we do this?” He stood up straight. “Yes.” You replied back heading over to the backdrop. It was plain white but it made the photos show up better.

You did a few different poses and outfits. Some silly and others professional. 

“Wait, I have an idea.” You smirked and Alastor looked at you with a confused smile. 

“Voxtek is sponsoring this shoot. Part of a contract deal after that shoot with Valentino. I made Vox sign a contract to sponsor whatever I want when I want since I had to.. Fuck him” You rolled your eyes. 

“Right.” Alastor chuckled. He knew better. You and that tv headed fucker for sure had something going on. But you were his friend so he wouldn't say his true opinion. Though he sure as hell did back at the hotel. 

“I know just the way to tick him off.” You smirked at him and he instantly knew what you meant. Loving the idea of pissing off Vox for fun. 

—

You did a few poses. Holding each other. Alastor dipping you and finally the ones that would piss Vox off the most. You knew Alastor wasn’t one for these types of things. Though he agreed he did not mind if it was just to piss off Vox. 

You had ordered your helpers to set up a chair. They did as asked and Alastor sat down.

“Go head darling. I wanna see the look on his face when he sees these.” You both laughed as you sat between his legs.

Alastor gripped your chin and turned your face to his. His smile on his face. Though it was a more intimate one. He sure played this well. You look into his eyes with as much passion as a smirk displayed on your face.

 The photo was taken and you stood up. Slinging your legs over Alastors lap, your assistant changed the camera's angle to get a side view. Alastor looked into your eyes. “Excuse me if I am not good at this.”He chuckled and you smiled. “It’s okay.” You both had a short laugh before getting ready for the photo. 

He closed his eyes and you leaned in. Pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back but he wasn't hesitant. He just wasn’t sure how to move his lips. You pulled away the second the photo was taken. 

“You aren’t terribly bad.” You joked, gaining an eye roll from him. 

The last photo was one of you both standing. Alastor kissed you one last time but in this one his eyes were looking at the camera. A bigger dig at Vox. 

—

“Thanks for helping me.” You thanked Alastor as you had gotten the photos ready to be sent out to Voxtek. “It’s not a problem. Anything for an old pal.” Alastor smiled as you both walked out of the studio. 

—

Vox sipped on his coffee until a ding came through on his screen. He flicked his finger and sent it to one of his monitors. He opened the email and sifted through the photos your team had emailed him. 

He groaned as it was you and Alastor. Pissed off that the radio demon was getting your attention now. 

His anger was pretty controlled till he got to the attachment labeled ‘surprise.’ 

A part of him hoped it was some sinful photos of you in your outfit. Though to his dismay it was not. 

He opened up the file with a smirk on his face only for it to be erased in a meer second as his eyes landed on you and Alastor kissing. He gripped his desk claws digging into it. Leaving a mark. 

He groaned and looked at the next photo. Alastor kissing you and eyeing the camera with that smug grin tugging on his lips. He screamed and slammed his fist into the monitor, cracking it and causing the screen to glitch out. 

The monitor turned off as he kept punching it. His screams and groans of anger echoing through the room. 

“The fuck is your problem?!” Velvette asked as she slammed open the door. 

Vox turned around to look at her. A deranged smile on his face as his eye twitched. 

“Set up my showroom. If this bitch wants to play dirty we’ll play dirty.” He pulled his hand out of the monitor watching as his blood trickled down his arm.

[causewayguy]

Pics courtesy of a fellow follower

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You folks know how Chinese parents like to have sons instead of daughters? They will always go 'Son good', 'Son carries our family name', 'Son is better'. But there is always one very special reason most fathers want a son for, and for me, her name is Charlotte.

Charlotte is my son’s latest girlfriend. They have been together for close to 1 year now and Charlotte has recently begun to stay over. Since my wife passed many years back, having another woman in the house was super exciting - FBTs, tank-tops, thin shirts, pokies, nip slips, etc. And all these from a hot piece of ass! Charlotte was becoming my main masturbation material.

One Saturday, I was home alone while my son and Charlotte went on their date. While scrolling through Insta, I came across Charlotte’s IG story; a selfie in my son’s bedroom and a side profile picture, with her jeans showing off her juicy ass. Suddenly, an evil thought came over me and I quickly went into their room, searching for something….viola! Charlotte’s lace panties. I started jerking off with her panties while eye-fucking her IG pictures. Before long, I cum all over her white panties. An eviller idea came to mind. I folded and placed her panties on the top of the pile, hoping my fantasy would come true tomorrow.

The next morning, I woke up at the first ring of my alarm and quickly went to the living room, as Charlotte always cooks breakfast for us. There she was. She smiled and greeted me then continued cooking her scrambled eggs. Not sure which Buddha answered my prayers as a piece of egg fell on the floor and Charlotte bends down to clean it up. My eyes widen in happiness, Charlotte was wearing the panties from last night, filled with my cum! I dashed back to my room to take care of the hardening boner, and came 3 times in just 15 minutes, thinking of what had happened and what can I do further in future.

Few weeks later, the 3 of us went on a family trip. I have been busy with work and had no time to masturbate so my balls are completely full. And Charlotte being on this trip certainly helped. At the pier we visited, I imagined the wind blowing her hair back as she sucks me off in her tight tank-top and jeans. I imagined fucking her against the wall of the art museum we visited, as though she was one of art pieces for everyone to enjoy. And finally, I imagined titty fucking her fantastic C-cuppers exposed through the gap of her black top and spray my cum all over Charlotte’s face as my son was in the shower. If the trip lasted longer than a week, I would have suffered dehydration from masturbating too much to Charlotte.

However, the best was yet to come. My son can never handle his alcohol well, so usually takes an Uber whenever he and Charlotte go drinking. One night, Charlotte ringed me well past midnight. It turned out my son was so wasted that no Uber was willing to take them home. I was fuming as I had to drive all the way down to Clarke Quay to pick them up. However, my heart melted as I saw Charlotte standing there, looking all defeated as my drunk son leaned his entire weight on her.

On our way home, Charlotte apologized over and over again to me but I just smiled at her, brushing it off. What I was actually doing was stealing glances at her deep cleavage from her wraparound white top. In her tipsy state, Charlotte began complaining about work, about friends, about my son drinking too much, about how he was not satisfying her enough. The more she complained, the more body movement she made and well, the more her boobs jiggle.

Hornnnnnnn! I was so mesmerized by her boobs that I did not notice a red light and the oncoming traffic horned. On instinct, I struck out an arm while hitting the brakes, trying to protect Charlotte from falling forward. But this meant that her front body fell onto my outstretched arm.

‘Uncle are you oka- Ahhhh…’ Charlotte moaned as she finally felt my hand on her boobs. I was high on adrenaline from the near miss, so when my hand was on the boobs of my masturbation fantasy, I just squeezed. When I realized what I have done, my cock also started to rise in my shorts. I tried to pull my hand away but Charlotte kept my hand there while she stuck her other hand between her legs. Her face was filled with CFM expression. ‘Please Uncle…don’t stop now…’

Without thinking, I sped home with one hand on the wheel and the other hand ‘servicing’ Charlotte. Alternating between both boobs, I managed to peel off Charlotte’s nipple stickers and started tuning her rock hard nipples. My car was filled with erotic female moans as well as the squishing sounds of something wet. My rock-hard boner was now like another gearstick that Charlotte groped at. I felt her pumping my cock to the rhythm of the squishing sounds between her legs, adding my moans to the already erotic surround sound in the car.

Within minutes, my car was safely parked in my garage, with me fucking Charlotte over the bonnet, pulling her golden long hair.

I could feel every inch of Charlotte’s pussy as I thrusted my cock into her. I could see her boobs bouncing out of that white top of hers. I quickly grabbed them and started to pump into her faster and harder. Charlotte’s face was filled with lust and her tongue hanging out, drooling and moaning.

I started becoming the devil again.

Me: ‘Who is bigger??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle bigger~!’

Me: ‘Who is better??’

Charlotte: ‘Uncle better~!’

Me: ‘Who are you??’

Charlotte: ‘I am your slut, Uncle… Don’t stop!!!’

I could feel her pussy clamping on my cock as she cum but I couldn’t stop. Not yet. With my cock still inside her, I walked (dragged) her over to the back door and opened it. Still weak from her big orgasm, Charlotte leaned forward above my drunk son with her hair flowing down to my son's face. Now, I continued to fuck her harder, right above my son!

Me: ‘Who is the guy in front of you, you slut?’

Charlotte: ‘M….my boyfriend…’

Upon hearing her answer, I pulled out immediately, leaving my cock head barely touching her pussy.

Me: ‘Again, who is he??’

Charlotte: ‘Nnooo, he’s nobody! Don’t stop plea-uuuhhhhhhh’

Charlotte whimpered loudly as I thrusted my full length into her without warning. Watching her moaned right at her boyfriend’s face while his father’s cock penetrating her from the back was too much for me. I emptied my weeks’ worth of cum into her pussy raw, triggering Charlotte’s second big orgasm. Charlotte was so fucked that she fell onto my son, panting and shaking.

We rested for a bit (and me taking a mental picture of this scene) and I carried Charlotte up to my bedroom where we made some more loving before finally dozing off in exhaustion.

One year later…

Buzz, buzzz

I received a photo from Charlotte with the caption:

‘Dear, your son passed out from drinking again. 😊 Managed to get him drunk every night of our honeymoon. But now I am super horny le… Lucky I brought the bra with your cum stain with me. Sniffed it while I masturbated last night 😉. Will wear to on the flight back to SG later too. See you soon! xoxo Charlotte’

Thank you, Son, for the world’s best daughter-in-law.

[fandomtrumpshate]

Anyone interested in some numbers?

Signups have been open for roughly 29 hours. In that time, 223 creators have signed up to offer 312 auctions in 88 listed fandoms, and 76 write-in fandoms.

And? 42 creators are willing to work in ANY fandom!

Our creators are once again tending to leave the choice for where to donate up to their bidders. Among those who selected specific nonprofits to support, the top spots went to:

77 Middle East Children's Alliance 65 Sherlock's Homes Foundation 54 Never Again Action 51 In Our Own Voice 49 National Network to End Domestic Violence 48 Civil Rights Education and Enforcement Center

We so far have 34 offers for fan labor, including 6 folks offering translation (in various combinations of English/French/German/Spanish/Vietnamese, and limited help in Russian)

Top of the rankings for listed fandoms:

41 K-Pop * 28 Good Omens 22 Red, White, & Royal Blue 18 Sherlock Holmes * 16 Marvel *

And over in the unlisted fandoms? The leaderboard looks like this …

5 Yu Yu Hakusho 3 Ace Attorney 3 Bungou Stray Dogs 3 Dragon Ball 3 For All Mankind 3 Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb 3 The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison

... so far.

Stay tuned for a more in-depth dive into the listed and unlisted fandoms in a post coming soon to a screen near you!

And jsyk, I've had to revise this post 3 times during the drafting as new signups come in. It's a good problem to have :)

Signups are OPEN!

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Twelve - The Holiday Season Begins

W/C: 8.7K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

"I've got my eye on you."

Say Yes To Heaven - L.D.R

A/N: Wow I think this is the longest I've gone without posting a chapter. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. I wrote it in bits and pieces and read it over several times. I would really really really love to know what you think, this one is so special and personal to me.

Masterlist

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Sugary apple goo.

You think back to Thanksgiving back home, a ruckus constant in the kitchen as dinner is prepared, more than enough food to feed an entire village.  Pots and pans clank together, trays create an echo as they are not-so-carefully placed atop the counter.  Dinner rolls are burned but still enjoyed with warm cinnamon butter.  The potatoes are a touch too lumpy but still desirable with notes of rosemary and an ungodly amount of garlic.  Various smells, both sweet and savory flood the house, your poor, stressed out mother churning out dish after dish, siblings all engaged in some kind of ball game out in the street just after watching the Thanksgiving Day parade.  

You tend to the green bean casserole, an easy dish that you couldn’t screw up even with your limited attention span.  Cream of Mushroom soup from a can seemed so repulsive in itself although it brought the whole dish together.  It didn’t matter that seconds prior it slumped against the green beans still in the shape of the can, nearly gelatinous.  Once stirred in and baked with crispy onions layered over the top, it was a masterpiece.  A five star dish in your book.

It would only be a matter of time before grandma showed up with her famously delicious apple pie, the crust coated in extra amounts of grainy sugar, the dish still piping hot.  And the “sugary apple goo” as you used to call it at the age of three already had your mouth watering just thinking about it, crispy apples so fresh and topped with syrupy caramelized sauce topped off with cinnamon and nutmeg, all wrapped up in a flaky, buttery crust.  

You sigh, piling the apple mixture on top of the homemade graham cracker crust.  It wasn’t clear to you just how lonely Thanksgiving morning would be without anyone around.  Sure, you had Donnie’s to look forward to this evening but until then, you were on your own, the parade quietly playing on the TV though you hadn’t been very impressed with the floats this year.  Holiday depression was kicking in, a kind you hadn’t experienced yet.  They were usually always a happy time, family surrounding you and distracting you from the lonesome thoughts you usually had.  This year it started feeling more like a ton of bricks was sitting on your chest, no one able to aid in providing you with some kind of task such as the honor of making the green bean casserole to ease the pressure.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t just make the controversially delicious dish, you had everything stashed in the pantry.  It just didn’t feel right.  It went unnoticed by you that tears were slowly sliding down your cheeks until a fat one landed on your wrist as you finished spooning the apple filling.  

Again?

In that moment you swear you looked the most pitiful you had ever looked in your entire life, tears trailing down your face silently, all alone, homesick.  You should be in your pajamas playing some kind of a board game on the coffee table in the living room, surrounded by your siblings.  Not throwing yourself a pity party while spreading apple goo.  To top it off, your hands had gotten completely covered, the sauce making your fingers undesirably sticky.  You hadn’t quite reached the point of sobs yet though you suppose if you let the goo linger on your hands any longer you would.

Some comforting folk music your grandpa used to play religiously rang through the house though you felt no such comfort.  Not as much as you’d hoped anyway.  It brought a familiar sense of his essence to you, his passing three years ago not settling right in your heart.  It only made you more homesick.

But you weren’t going to let yourself soak in salty tears and sticky apples.  No, you washed your hands in soothing warm water, the sludge sliding right off and into the metal of the sink, eyes puffy and red but void of tears for the time being.  You’d sucked them back and changed the music to something more upbeat, some Elvis that your grandpa had also engrained deeply into your brain though you hoped the faster tempo would brighten your spirits and ignite the happy memories.

Only, it landed you on the couch in a whole new sea of sobs this time as Unchained Melody lingered in the lonely room.  There was no getting a grip on the gut-wrenching, stomach-aching isolation you were feeling, sanity was long gone.  You were supposed to be trimming the dough that was meant to create the criss cross pattern for the pie, you were supposed to be enjoying your glass of wine as you sang under your breath to familiar tunes, you were supposed to be okay.  

It was you, after all, who had made the decision to move, right?  It was you who picked up your entire life and plopped it right in the middle of some unknown mountain town in search of yourself.  You feared that you were just losing yourself instead, forgetting just after a few months what it felt like to be surrounded by loved ones, forgetting how it felt to come home to a full house after a grueling shift at the local Denny’s.  You smelled of burnt coffee and dry eggs, your hair greasier than the literal grease trap, but none of that mattered the second you stepped into the coziness of the living room, all family dysfunction left at the door.

The tears wouldn’t stop though you still managed to force yourself off of the couch, wiping snot away with the back of your hand as you stared at the messy kitchen in despair.  Everything suddenly seemed so…impossible.  How were you meant to do anything while simultaneously questioning your entire existence, your entire meaning of life?

You had been in such disarray that cleaning up as you went didn’t even seem close to an option, nearly every pot and pan either set on top of the stove or thrown in the sink, whisks and spatulas scattered among the mess, and apple skins littering the floor.  Now you were taking in the aftermath, not even having the finished product to show as an excuse for the complete disaster, even the dough still rolled out on the cutting board.  You had hours left to prepare though it felt like seconds ticking by to inevitable disappointment.  

The end of the world felt like it weighed down on your shoulders yet you did what you did best each time.  You set it aside and pressed on.  It was never simple, weak hands grasping the dull knife, slicing through the dough to create uniform strips.  Motivation was running dry, the desire to grace everyone with the most delicious apple pie they’d ever tasted was out the window, you could only do what your body allowed.

And like every other time you had to pull yourself out of the gutter.  Life began to bleed back into your eyes as your creation came back to life.  Puffiness still remained throughout your face, eyes still droopy but slowly your drive kicked back into gear.  Sniffles from previous snotty tears continued but nothing felt better than laying down the last layer of dough over the apple filling, a quest conquered.  

Finishing off your cheap red wine, you reward yourself by licking off the spoon you’d used for the filling.  The kitchen still required a good scrub down but you could live with the mess a little while longer as you indulged in the sweetness.  Something well deserved.  You didn’t even want to think about the nightmare that Christmas was about to become, decorating your tree with only the company of your dreaded thoughts.  That was a scenario you were not willing to wander into, at least not until it would actually happen.  There was no sense in making yourself live through it twice, your brain longing to torture you with irrational possibilities.

Elvis’s voice continues to carry through the living room, a second glass of wine being poured in hopes of easing your homesickness, attempting to neglect thoughts of what you would usually be doing right now.  It was barely working, only leaving you feeling slightly lazy with a good layer of sadness still looming over you like a storm cloud.  There was no extinguishing the sorrows you felt for familiarity and the comfort the holidays were supposed to bring you.

Sudden knocking sends you into a brief panic, unexpected guests were not in the cards for your lonesome morning that had only served to encourage your crybaby tendencies.  At the very least you got a pie out of it.

The knocking persists as you scramble up from your depressing divot on the couch, a certain urgency waving over you at the speed of the knocks.  They were rapid, quick pecks at the wood, a worrisome speed that usually constituted an emergency in the end.  

Why today, why now?

With a heavy sigh, you swing the door open, glass of half-finished wine in one hand while the other runs down your drained face.  You expect some kind of eviction notice; god knows why since you own the place.  Maybe the check hadn’t reached the mortgage company, maybe it had been intercepted in transit.  The last thing you expect on your doorstep is a wide-eyed Eddie cradling a large bowl in one arm.  His gray sweatpants swallow his legs and hang low on his hips, a sliver of his tummy on display in between his t-shirt and pants.

It’s conflicting.  Do you act concerned and start begging the questions:  Did something happen?  Who’s injured?  Or do you exhale in relief as a tiny smile tugs at the corners of his mouth even in his somewhat distressed state?  It can’t be that bad if he still finds it in himself to smile, right?

“I, uh, I need help.”  He says sheepishly.

Ever since the night of the hoedown, he’d been a new kind of shy with you.  You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t adore it because truth be told, big bad Eddie Munson who previously chewed you out for being so bashful was now getting a taste of his own medicine.  Except you had been much kinder than he initially was, though it was fun to tease him and force his face to turn a vibrant tomato red.  

“Help?”  You smirk, swirling your wine as if you were some kind of connoisseur.  “My, my, how the tables have turned.”

“Bambi.”  He groans, still maintaining focused eye contact with the wood planks of your porch.

“Eddie.”  

It’s said so softly, in a way that reduces him to a puddle, his knees could give out at any moment if you so much as looked at him a certain way which had been why he refused to catch your gaze.  He internally curses himself for automatically counting under his breath, unable to stop himself: one, two, three, one, two, three.

In an instant your face falls, he only ever counted when he was stressed from what you could gather.  It was a learning curve, navigating Eddie’s quirks.

“Hey.”  You soothe, gingerly grabbing his wrist with your free hand.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”  

His curls bounce with a shake of his head, his eyes fluttering shut.  The counting stops but he still comes across as fuzzy.  Disoriented.  

“Come inside.”  You whisper, gently tugging him through the door, your wine abandoned at the entry table in the process.  “It’s freezing out.”

Instinctually he hands you the bowl he’d been cradling close to his body with a wooden spoon sticking out.  Upon further inspection, a mountain of mashed potatoes-or should you say lumps of potatoes are piled up within the bowl.  The skins are still intact, way too many if he intended to make smooth and creamy potatoes.  They’d be much less than enjoyable in the state they were currently in.

“I fucked them up.”  He whispers.

The sight you’re met with is that of a small child in a grown man’s body, his large eyes pleading.  You’re forced to realize that today may very well be much worse for him than it is for you.  He’d warned you that he didn’t do holidays and here he was, a nervous wreck turning up on your doorstep in a panic with lumpy potatoes.  And suddenly you felt so selfish.

“That’s okay.”  You assure him, tracing a tender thumb over his bicep.  He looked so lost.  “Eddie, it’s okay.”  You repeat with a nod.

“I just, I was gonna buy something from the store, and then, I just thought–I dunno maybe I’d at least try.”  He tugs on his curls, a bit too harshly for your liking.  “I don’t know why I even tried.”  He sighs in defeat.

It’s enough to break your heart.

“Eddie.”  

Turmoil flashes in his eyes, stress apparent in the way his brows furrow and his frown lines grow deeper.  His lips are red, most likely bitten, and he can’t stop twisting one of his rings around his finger.  He looks to be as much of a wreck as you felt although the symptoms seem to be much more apparent in his appearance than yours.  Your slightly swollen eyes were nothing compared to his tousled curls, anxieties littered across his face and trembling hands unable to be subtly hidden without the crutch of sleeves.

“I, uh, I-I shouldn’t have bothered.”  He mutters, reaching for the door.

You intercept him, your hand wrapping around his elbow while you attempt to meet his eyes.  He freezes in his escape, your touch rendering him paralyzed, your fingers suddenly too determined in digging into the meat of his arm.  Not meanly.  Never meanly.  More concerned.  Concerned for the way he cowers away the second he’s offered any fraction of help.  Perhaps it’s hypocritical of you to regard him with such worry when you yourself present the same behaviors under the same circumstances and expect no such treatment.

Your expression offers a certain softness that he’s come across one too many times since you’d barged into his life and taken his heart hostage.  You’d never know you committed such a crime.  And he’d never outright tell you of the ache that sat deep in his chest that he had no clue how to satiate.  All he knew was that he could not jeopardize this.  If he could get through the holidays, if he could get to January and you were still around, then, and only then would he be convinced that he had finally lifted whatever fucked up, out-of-this-world curse that had haunted him all his life.

“It’s okay.”  Barely above a whisper, you assure him.

Eddie doesn’t remember making his way into your kitchen, he can’t recall your delicate hand pulling him along until you let go to discard his potato concoction onto the counter and he realizes he’s taken the warmth for granted in a haze of existential dread.  Like a lost puppy, he stares at your fingertips as they linger on the counter while you lean over to reach for an empty casserole dish.  The entirety of your kitchen cabinets had thrown up all over the counters, a reflection of the way his brain felt.  Scattered.  

“Potatoes are actually super complicated.”  

His ears perk up, unsure of how to conjure up a response.  Instead, he raises his eyebrows, fearful of how dumb he could make himself look with just a few syllables.  It wasn’t like him to care so deeply what others thought of him.

“That’s why I avoid them.  Instead–”  You turn around only to pull out a can of green beans and a can of cream of mushroom.  “-work smarter, not harder.”

Eddie knows he should be hanging onto every word you say and usually he would be, he knows.  Except he can’t help but tune into the melody of Blue Christmas that had been echoing off the kitchen walls from your record player across the room.

The damn record player.  And the records.

He didn’t realize how much the records still affected him.  He had his own collection now, sure.  But anything that resembled the essence of his Mama, lived safely and soundly on its dedicated shelf in his room, untouched.  It took him years to rebuild Mama’s collection.

“Sorry can we-”  He makes his way toward the record player, his face contorted nearly painfully before lifting the needle.  “I just-I can’t think.”

Your motions were paused, can opener halfway through the can of beans as your eyes meet him with questions splayed across your face.  You don’t ask them.  An understanding smile works its way across your lips and god, he doesn’t know why you’re so patient with him after he stepped into your house and suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to shut off your music.  As he strides back into the kitchen, a series of apologies haven't even left his mouth and yet-

“So…Green Bean Casserole.”  You state, fingers tapping against the tin of each can.  “And Sugary Apple Goo.”  A vague gesture toward the uncooked pie.  “Kind of a…weird duo.  Or it will be if I actually get it in the oven-”

“Sorry, what?”  

“Apple pie.  The apple pie.  At home we just call it sugary apple goo, don’t ask why it’s just–it’s just a thing we do.”  You clarify, shoving the dessert into the comforting warmth of the oven, shivering at the sensation as goosebumps begin to prick your skin.

“Apple goo.”  He repeats.  A raised brow disappearing beyond his messy bangs.

Eddie almost forgets the reason why he’d been in such disarray, almost forgets why he even bothered knocking on your door in the first place, only remembers the fact that he was in a panicked state.

“Yeah.”  You sigh.

You busy yourself with slopping the now drained green beans into a nearby glass bowl.  Your blotchy skin and puffy eyes catch in the stream of sunlight, the kitchen window betraying you as it showcases your true state.  Avoiding those large brown eyes is the best you can do, the theory that if you can’t see him he can’t see you dumbly being put to use no matter how aware you are that it makes no sense.  Maybe if you act “okay enough”, he’ll chalk it up to the common cold, placing the responsibility for your rudolph-like nose on the yearly infection.

What you fail to realize is that by this point, he’s become too familiar with your teary eyes and sad worry lines that only seemed prominent in your times of distress.  Times that he had regretfully been the cause of previously.  Words can’t escape his practically sewn-shut-mouth, all sounds dying long before forming on his tongue.  It’s impossible to create comfort when he himself has trouble doing so for himself.  How could he possibly offer such comfort to someone who deserved kinder words from someone of a higher regard?

“Here, dump this in and mix.”  You instruct, forcing a can of cream of mushroom and a wooden spoon in his hands, yanking him out of his mind.

There’s no room for protest, not that he even intended to.  Not when you’re standing there with the ghost of tear tracks down your cheeks.  Not when you’re this kind.  Not when you’re you.  

“Okay.”  He mutters, a disgusting sound filling his ears from the lumpy soup falling into the bowl.

“After that, pour it in here.”  You place a ceramic casserole dish to his right, the dish nearly too large to fit on the cluttered counter though you’re too occupied with tidying up other parts of the kitchen to bother.

“Got it.”

Eddie Munson absolutely hates Thanksgiving.  But he doesn’t mind it so much when you’re rustling around behind him, a silent conversation hanging in the air that neither of you are alone in your holiday sorrows, whatever they may be.

You don’t ask why he continues counting under his breath behind you or why his hands are shaking.

And he doesn’t ask why tears linger in your eyes or why you pause to regain your composure after dropping a pan a bit too loudly for your liking, your lip wobbling.

Because the collective understanding is that neither of you is okay.  And maybe that’s okay.

–

“Careful, the bottom is–”

“Shit!”

“-hot.”

A ringed hand waves around in an effort to rid it of the burning sensation caused by the bottom of the piping hot casserole dish.  Eddie releases a series of curses, the side of the dish pushed against his chest as he balances it between his body and his single arm protected by one of your generously donated dish rags.  Your wide eyes caution him in his balancing act, a perfectly crafted green bean casserole at risk due to his negligence as he had taken the liberty of knocking on the door.

“What the fuck, how can fuckin’ beans be so goddamn hot?”  Brown eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, his fingertips more than likely singed an angry red.

It’s no laughing matter, not according to the scowl that makes its way across his handsome features but you can’t stop the pull of your lips from forming a large grin, giggles caught in the back of your throat.  His irritation disappears just as quickly as it came, harsh edges blurring into softness at the sight of your puffed out cheeks, inflated due to the humor just dying to crawl out of your mouth.

“Oh, shut up.”  A nudge of his shoulder against yours has you shaking your head, laughter finally escaping your perfectly glossed lips.

He could write paragraphs about them if it didn’t seem so creepy and stalkerish.  So he allowed himself the tiniest of glances, only hoping to paint the full picture in his head ever since you’d quickly puckered your lips in front of your mirror at home to complete your finishing touches while he viewed from the porch where he waited in his black button up and nicest pair of jeans.  He’d never been so jealous over a tube of lipgloss.  In fact, he’d never in his life been jealous of a tube of lipgloss and he never felt like more of a loser than in that moment.

“I told you.”  You mutter, an endearing side eye delivered right into his line of sight.  It was something almost child-like, something innocent and not at all like what he’d ever really been on the receiving end of.  Maybe because there was a certain flirtiness you were hinting at although he was no expert and had no right to assume.

“I told you.”  He mumbles back with a higher pitch, mocking you.

You turn toward him, a comeback on the tip of your tongue when his own tongue interrupts with a taunt, peeking out between his lips swiftly, his nose scrunching up meanly before his full attention is back on the door as it creaks open.  And then, a quick wink that only you yourself were a witness to, only creating a stir in your brain as you decipher that no one else would be able to confirm the action.

“Hey!”  Donnie greets, arms flung up in excitement as she ushers you into her welcoming home, smells infiltrating your nose, sweet and savory galore.

Before either you or Eddie can even get a simple “hello” in, she’s talking your ear off, something about who all is already in the living room, how far along the turkey is, where the bathroom is, all while guiding you into the spacious dining room.  She must have set out her fine china, the gorgeous dishes set all around the table lined with champagne colored silver on the edges of the plates.  Two tables had been pushed together, creating enough space for the large number of guests expected.  In the center sat an exquisite arrangement of various orange-hued flowers and some greenery.  

The house was comforting; not too large and not too small, a two story dream that no doubt had acres of backyard.  The Christmas tree had already been set up and decorated, the branches and lights hinting at you from the other room where men roared with laughter, a football game blaring from the TV that contrasted with the familiar voice of Frank Sinatra coming from the stereo.  Combined turkey and Santa decorations adorned the interior everywhere you glanced, surfaces that would usually be empty year around were occupied with tacky little figurines that were more endearing than anything.  Plastic garland traced the rails of the stairs, littered in fake plastic cranberries, the front room being far more grand than your entire home as you inspected it through the archway of the dining room.

Suddenly your nerves were simmering down, a familiar feeling nestling into the bottom of your chest as your shoulders fell from their tensed position, your fingers letting up on their grip on the pie tin you clutched so desperately.  Women squealed from the kitchen, a series of “oh my god”s erupting into the rest of the house, some kind of juicy gossip initiating several gasps as well as some laughter.  Your homesickness began to lie dormant, warmth overtaking you as Donnie went on and on about her family members, which ones to avoid sitting next to at all costs and warning you of the aunties that would corner you and beg for details on your love life.

“Just pretend I’m calling you and run as fast as you can in the other direction.”  She advises.  “And if that doesn’t work, tell ‘em you had too much wine and that it’s making a reappearance.  They’ll scatter like flies.”

You laugh along, taking mental notes as she grabs the pie from you, complimenting the smell as she sets it among several other desserts, a whole table dedicated only to sweets.  When she goes to grab the green bean casserole from Eddie, you can’t help but pause and watch as his doe eyes trace his surroundings, a clearly unfamiliar environment to him.  There’s uncertainty dripping from his demeanor, his single finger tapping against the dish:  One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

“Green bean casserole-Eddie, do you know how many green bean casserole we’ve got?  Like you all read each other’s mind, I swear.”  Donnie jokes.

“It’s-um, it’s hot.”  He cautions her.

Sauntering toward the main table, Donnie proudly sets it on top of a place mat to protect the wood from the heat.  Eddie doesn’t budge, seemingly glued to the carpet, his hands still lingering in the air like he had still been holding the dish.

“You okay?”  You mouth to him, looking up into his worried eyes, only hoping to soothe the crease in between his eyebrows.

He nods though you suspect he’s being a bit dishonest.  

“Oh, c’mon Eddie!  You know I’m just pullin’ your leg.”  Donnie reassures, a heavy hand falling against his shoulder.  “Shoot, I have to go check on the oven.  Yell for me if you need anything, both of you, okay?”  

“Sure.”  You mumble.  “Thank you.”

“There’s a fully stocked bar right over there, help yourselves.”  She calls as she backs herself up toward the kitchen.  “But don’t go too crazy.”  She sends a knowing glance, recalling both of your tendencies to take on more than you can handle.

“Why don’t we get some air?”  You suggest, unable to comprehend exactly just what was happening in Eddie’s mind although you knew enough to understand that he was miles outside of his comfort zone.

“No, no.  I’m good.”  A cleared throat doesn’t reassure you enough but you let it go for the time being.  Prying wasn’t going to help.  “”M gonna get a beer.”  He murmurs, chain jingling from his belt as he makes his way toward what you can only assume is the kitchen where Donnie had just disappeared to.

As pathetic as it seemed, you weren’t going to allow yourself to wander around alone, vulnerable to various conversations trapping you in small talk with strangers: an absolute nightmare.  Timidly, you follow behind Eddie at a safe distance, holding your breath as you take in the new room full of busy women and many glasses of wine.  The smell of gravy heavily lingers, a tinge of the sourly sweet alcohol peeking through as you release your breath and inhale finally.  

And then-they were all over him.  Sweet older women, ranging from around fifty plus years, all doting on him, cooing at him while complimenting how tall he is and his handsome features.  It only forces you to lean your hip against the counter and take in the most captivating scene you’d ever witnessed.  His cheeks redden, his entire face matching shortly after as he nods in response, small “thank you”s sneaking past his lips with a sheepish grin threatening to spread across his face, dimples prominent.  It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do with the attention, has no recognition of the power he currently holds.

“Is this one yours?!”  One woman shrieks, taking your hands in her bony ones.

“Oh-”

“You’re so lucky, he’s such a looker!”  Another chimes in.

“We’re not-”

“You better hope he holds onto all that hair throughout the years.”  A third nods.

Eddie’s face has never been redder, crimson painting his usually pale skin, a beer pinched in between his fingers as he avoids every single eye in the room.  You can only imagine the look on your own face, maybe slightly mortified with a hint of pink pulling at your cheeks due to the unnecessary attention.

“Alright, alright.”  Donnie interjects.  “Enough, you’re gonna scare ‘em away before they’ve even had a bite to eat!”  She waves her hands around, dramatics on full display as she shoos them away like pigeons.

“Thank you.”  You whisper, eyes large and surprised.

“Run, run.”  Donnie displays wide eyes, gently shoving you both out of the kitchen.

–

Throughout the evening, you kept Eddie in your peripheral.  Sure, he was grown and fully capable of taking care of himself but it didn’t worry you any less when holidays weren’t necessarily his favorite thing.  Anxieties lurked in the back of your mind the second he started counting earlier, never once fading away no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that he was fine, now bantering back and forth with Sam.

“That Steve kid really can’t dance.”  Nathan laughs, pulling you back into the initial conversation you were having, perched on the couch with a glass of wine set in front of you on the coffee table courtesy of Donnie’s excellent hosting skills.

“Well that’s why he excused himself off the dancefloor.”  You softly smile, earning another hearty laugh from the man.

“Hey, but Eddie’s no better.”  He jokes, taking a swig of his beer.  “Looked like a damn giraffe stumbling over his own legs.”

“I wasn’t very coordinated either!”  You defend.  “We were a hot mess.”  You bury your face in your hands.

“Yeah, I bet Eddie thought you were hot.”

The recliner adjacent to you creaks beneath Jett as he makes himself comfortable, slouching with a beer in his hand.

“Whoa.”  Nathan leans forward, ready to reprimand him.  “What-”

“That’s okay.”  You speak softly, your hand covering the older man’s as an act of keeping the peace, something you did best.  Several seconds of contemplation and a glance across the room toward Eddie change your mind.  

“Actually-it’s not.”  You turn your body toward Jett, a man–child before your eyes that refused to even look at you after his comment.  Your hands shake and your cheeks heat with embarrassment, chalking your sudden confidence up to the glass and a half of wine you indulged in.  

“What?”  Jett furrows his brows, examining his beer far too aggressively as a means to avoid you.

“It’s not okay.”  You whisper, a wimpy excuse of a defense.

“What’s gotten into you, boy?”  Nathan scolds through gritted teeth.

Jett’s nearly-black eyes resemble something opposite in comparison to the warmth in those across the room currently harboring a twinkle in an engaged conversation.  The boy is unable to get a word in as you quietly begin to address him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”  You regret the tremble in your tone, confrontation was well out of your comfort zone, especially with someone who had been so hostile for no reason.  It wasn’t in your DNA to be the “bad guy” even when it would benefit your wellbeing.

Something in your words softens Jett’s eyes, pulls a piece of him back into reality.  You weren’t terrorizing him and he couldn’t seem to grasp that ever since that night you had argued with Eddie behind the bar.  And you hadn’t spoken a word out of line but you weren’t clueless.  Clearly he had an agenda against you and Eddie, it never left your mind since Eddie mentioned that Jett got all over-protective suddenly that night and took it out on him.  But what could you do when all he did was puff out his chest rather than have a decent conversation?  His frayed emotions were not your responsibility, you owed him nothing if he was going to insist on acting like a toddler in adult situations.  You suppose some of it could be due to his lack of years behind yourself and Eddie, Jett still a teenager, almost twenty whereas you had been in your twenties for a few years now.  It wasn’t an excuse, just your brain attempting to work out his logic.

“You didn’t–you didn’t do anything wrong.”  He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

You don’t offer any words.  Only an expectant look.  Expecting of some kind of explanation as to why he’d been acting so cruel.  And as if the universe decided you didn’t live in enough anguish with your homesickness that morning paired with the current unwanted confrontation, Eddie’s eyes met yours for a brief moment before darting away, a deep sigh and suddenly slouching shoulders clearly indicating some kind of defeat before he quietly stepped out of the room.

“Can we get into this another time?”

You don’t wait for a response, excusing yourself to slip out of the room and follow the trail of cold out the front door, the chill seeping into your bones as your cradle your arms close to yourself.  The porch is spacious, something you hadn’t taken notice of earlier when arriving.  To your left, Eddie sits on a wooden bench with the family name “Scott” carved into it.  A cigarette takes its place between his fingers, his lighter flickering while he lets out a frustrated groan.  He places the stick between his lips and cups the flame to hide it from the wind, finally succeeding in lighting it, puffs of smoke escaping through the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not fragile, Bambi.  Stop following me around.”  He mutters, pulling the cigarette from his lips.  There’s no malice detected in his words, just something lacking hope as he stares straight ahead.

Carefully, you sit at the very edge of the bench, your skirt a tad too short to allow you to fully sit back due to the cold surface.  You catch a wave of his warmth as he rests his arm on his thigh.  It hurts, how far away he feels even being inches from you; his mind might as well be on Jupiter.  A momentary glance over at you causes him to sigh deeply, his head dipping down while he shakes it in disappointment.

“And dammit!”  Eddie snaps, face twitching in aggravation.  “I don’t have a jacket for you this time.  Learn how to dress for the cold.”  He gestures to your posture, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt to savor any warmth, and your jaw clenched shut as a means to keep your teeth from chattering though you can’t seem to contain the shivers nearly rattling your bones.

“I don’t need one.”

He scoffs, disbelief evident in his movements, a fidgeting hand reaching up to scratch the barely-there stubble at his jaw.  

“I don’t!”  You lie.

You were never one to willingly be dishonest but a little white lie in this case didn’t seem like the end of the world.  Not when Eddie’s fragile state of mind seemed to gnaw away at him.  You wouldn’t leave him out for the wolves to feed on him; wolves being his never ending thoughts that always without fail, won him over and forced him to crawl back into his comfort zone of isolation.  You suppose you weren’t so innocent either, always succumbing to the very same habits.

“Go back inside.”  A flick of his cigarette ash towards the ground ignites in the thin layer of snow barely coating the porch before extinguishing.

You can’t help the furrow in your brows, staring at him as if to figure him out, attempting to glance into his large coffee colored irises, to no avail.  His shiny eyes dodge your attempts, the windows of his soul closed off, even from you.  Not that you were immediately entitled, though you figure with each trauma he had shared with you, he’d at least be able to look you in the eye.

“Come with me.”  You chirp.  “We’ll taste all the wines.  C’mon, and then we’ll be nice and hungry.  Drunk eating is the best.”  You extend a hand out toward him, your freshly painted nails perfectly imperfect in his peripheral.

“I’m not in the mood, Bambi.”

His gravelly voice has a certain effect on you, one you find not appropriate to dissect right now.  He lifts the cigarette back up to his lips, the chance to take one more drag stolen from him as you pluck it from his fingers, tossing it into the snow without regret, stomping your foot on it for good measure.

“Well, get in the mood.  Let’s go.”  

Boldly, you tug at his arm, unable to move him by yourself, you know.  But he willingly melts into your touch, allowing you to pull him up despite his protesting frown.  Though he follows you to stand, he doesn’t budge much further than that as you try to drag him back into the cozy warmth of the house.  The rounded tip of his nose glows red, the threat of a cold only pushing you to tug on his sleeve with no success in ushering him inside.

“I think ‘m just gonna head home.  You think someone else could give you a ride back?”  The question is hesitant, no longer wanting to participate in the festivities but still concerned for your well-being, especially if you were going to continue to drink.  

Your track record with alcohol wasn’t exactly great and he’d never forgive himself if something happened and he wasn’t there just because the sight of you talking to Jett had left a bad taste in his mouth.  But he couldn’t stand it any longer, watching you act so graceful all the time, especially to someone you didn’t particularly like, and then having to pretend that a simple kiss on the cheek didn’t absolutely wreck him.  A kiss that you hadn’t since mentioned, and he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by insinuating that you wanted him in that way.  No one wanted him in that way.

“What?”  You breathe, face shifting into a sadness Eddie wanted to kick himself for.  “No, you can’t go–”

“I’m sure Jett is ready and willing to entertain you.”

Low blow.  He could always count on himself to deliver a low blow at the worst of times.

Eddie knew now that you had a distaste for Jett, he knew that.  And yet he was stupid enough to continue using Jett as ammo against you for no reason other than his own insecurity.  If he continued to push you away then it wouldn’t hurt so bad when you realized he was scum of the earth.  Trailer trash.  A nobody.  That’s what he kept telling himself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  You fume, crossing your arms.

“I don’t know, Bambi.  You tell me cause I can’t figure you out.”

The use of his nickname for you stitched together with words of anguish only further confused you.  You couldn’t seem to win.

“Can’t–can’t figure me out?!”  You widen your eyes at him, only hoping to convey how ridiculous of a statement it is.  “Can’t figure me out.  What about you?!  You’re the one no one can figure out!”  

You’re on the verge of whining, begging in a sense.  Pleading with the most stubborn man in the world and god only knows what you’ll do if he doesn’t stand down.

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.”  He states simply, monotone.  It makes you want to yank your hair out by the roots and offer it to him, asking him if it’s enough.  If it’s enough to shut up the voices in his head.

“Yeah?  Because you don’t wanna let people in?!”  Uncharacteristically, you jab a finger into his chest, frustration making itself known across your face and you only know because his eyes ever so slightly soften.  “Eddie, all you do is give me mixed signals!  How many times do I have to tell you I want nothing to do with Jett?!  What do I have to do to get that through your thick fucking head?!”  He tries to get a word in but you don’t give him an opportunity.  “No, seriously!  I need an instruction manual or something because I’m trying!  I have been trying-”

“-I didn’t ask you to!”  He finally interrupts, sorrow filling his eyes.

With a deep breath, you calm your heaving chest.  It’s apparent you’re no longer cold, your skin hot from working yourself up.  Steam may as well be coming from your ears though it wasn’t your intention to get so irritated with him.  

“I wanted to.  I want to.”  Your voice comes out softer, a gentler approach to his sudden internal conflict.

“No.”

Turning away, he doesn’t quite move to leave but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s trying to shut you out.  He’s trying to escape like some kind of feral animal but you refuse to give in.  You refuse to let him.  

“Yes.  Eddie–look at me!”  You demand with a small pull of his arm.

“No.”

He goes to turn his body even further away from you but the firm hold you have on his bicep stops him.  He keeps his gaze on the floorboards below, his nose twitching and eyes burning with the threat of tears.  You only know because you’re all too familiar with the mandatory frown that comes with holding them back.

“Stop doing that.  Please.”  You beg.

“I can’t be here right now–”

“What makes you think I can?”

He’s silent.  The world instantly feels so quiet, tiny snow flurries fluttering around you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people on Earth.  Echoes of the celebrating and hollering inside are faint although they don’t do much to pop the bubble you find yourselves in.  Then he breaks the silence, daring to plead with you this time.

“Bambi, please.”  He croaks.

Your initial thought is, please what?  You’d been pleading with him back and forth for god knows how many minutes straight and here he was doing it right back to you.  And for what?  It wasn’t a good enough plea, not for you.  You weren’t ready to let it go, if you even knew what “it” was.

“No, you’re coming inside and you don’t have to associate with me if you don’t want to but you’re coming inside.”

Your demand only seems to irritate him, his brows knitting together while he pinches the bridge of his nose in between his fingers.  If he was agitated then you were about to become enraged.  And that is not something you wanted.  You never wanted to display that kind of emotion toward him but he was practically pulling it out of you and you had to fight against it.  No one had ever been able to pull such a reaction out of you, not ever.  Even if you had gotten pretty close, you swallowed it down and hid it.

“Why?!”  Eddie seethes.

His outburst takes you back, though with the aggravation boiling within you, you were able to contain any reaction he was seeking, if any.  That wasn’t the case for long though as you then launch yourself into another tantrum after staring for a second too long at his snarled lip.

“Because believe it or not, I care, Eddie!”  You practically wail, your voice becoming hoarse.  “If you leave I’m coming with you because I’m not leaving you alone.  Not on Thanksgiving.”  Your head shakes in denial.

Against your own will, a single tear trails down your cheek and the moment you feel it, you’re rapidly wiping it away, hoping he never even saw it when you knew damn well his umber eyes followed it all the way down your face.  He only pulls his gaze away.

“I’m leaving.  You’re staying here.”  He decides, regret etched into his features.

In a final attempt to escape your grasp, he succeeds, feeling your fingertips linger for one last second before drifting away as he turns and makes his way down the porch steps, wood protesting beneath him.  The noise is the only proof you have that he’s actually leaving, that he actually feels he’s not worthy enough to stay.  

You refuse to give up so easily.

Your feet are already on a mission, nearly sprinting down the stairs even with the threat of slipping on the minimal amount of ice beginning to freeze over.  Eddie pays no mind to the fast paced footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him, making his way over to Sugar with his head hung low.  Your heart is racing, not just because you suddenly decided to sprint a few yards but because a healthy dose of dopamine has started coursing throughout your body, a good amount of anxiety accompanying it but not deferring you any longer.

Eddie makes it to Sugar, his hand reaching for the door only for it to be forced shut with a self-manicured hand.  If he didn’t know who the hand belonged to he’d be chewing the owner out for daring to touch his beloved truck.  Instead he rolls his eyes and turns as he prepares to reprimand you in a much more gentle manner than he would anyone else.

Except he doesn’t even have the chance when your lips are suddenly pressed to the corner of his mouth, your body pushing him against Sugar.  His hands freeze mid air, his eyes wide open.  Your hands are resting on his chest and–he can’t breathe.  You pull away, inches from him and he can’t breathe, he can’t speak, he can’t move.  As far as he’s concerned he isn’t even human anymore.  

“Stay.”  You whisper, your breath fanning over slightly chapped lips.

His lips won’t stop tingling, he can’t grasp the concept of what just occurred.  He refuses to even touch you for fear that you might disappear right before him.  Hell, he’s not even sure he’s allowed to.

It’s difficult to gauge his reaction, his heavy breath lingering with the smell of his cigarette that would probably gross you out had it been anyone else but for some reason, because it’s him, you don’t mind very much.  You must smell strongly of wine which isn’t always pleasant so you figure you’re even.

“Please stay.”   You repeat, nudging your nose into his.

It’s like he’s in a trance, his eyelids becoming lazy and his body relaxing when you reach up to trace your thumb ever so slightly over his jaw.  His forehead rests against yours, his eyes squeezing shut, and you can hear a gulp in his throat.  With his eyes still shut, he nods and before you can process it, he launches himself into your arms in a tight embrace, wrapping himself around you, his face buried in your neck.  A wetness catches against your skin catches your attention, Eddie’s body heaving slightly and you just know.

You know that the tear stains on your skin mean more to him than you could ever imagine.

Slowly, your fingers tangle in his hair, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck to lightly scratch his scalp soothingly.  The way he grips onto you tighter, his body shaking, only confirms that physical touch and affection was not a luxury he was allowed in his lifetime.  If he let you, you’d spend thousands of hours holding him, even in the cold.  Whatever he needed.

But the snow flurries began to grow larger and the wind started to pick up.  And you’d be damned if you allowed yourself and Eddie to catch a nasty cold when you could be doing the same thing inside next to the fire.  Though, as you thought about it, Eddie would probably shy away from your touch in front of everyone.  And that didn’t anger you in the way it normally would.  Because you couldn’t blame him, someone so touch starved that he began to sob the second he was willingly kissed and told he was wanted, for shying away from showers of physical affection in front of peers that only know him to be big, bad, Eddie Munson.  It would be too much of a change and you weren’t willing to force that upon him.

So as the cold grew more unforgiving, you continued to hold him.  He would be the one to decide when he felt he wanted to part from you.  And if you both got sick, so be it.  A stupid cold would be worth the price if you were able to provide him the touch he went so long without and so badly craved, even if he didn’t quite know it at first.

Eddie parted from you far sooner than anticipated.  His cheeks were rosy, his rounded nose matching, endearingly so.  His eyelashes were dotted with a few lingering tears, his eyes rimmed with red but sadness was absent from his features.  Instead there was a fondness dripping from his expression and though he parted from the embrace to gaze down at you, he still clung to you like his life depended on it. 

“Can I–can I kiss you?”  He whispers shakily.

You want to laugh, only because he’s acting as if you didn’t kiss him in the first place.  But you bury it deep down and only let a smile blossom.  

“Please.”  You whisper back.

This time, you’re more than happy to beg.  

Hesitantly, his shaky hand cups your jaw, the warmth from his skin more than welcome as he gently slots his lips against yours.  He’s slow with it, taking his time.  As you move in rhythm with him, you encourage him, moving his arms to circle your waist, pressing yourself closer and letting your hands travel up his chest to lock behind his neck.  

“I can’t stop.”  He laughs quietly, continuously pecking your lips like he can’t get enough.

“Don’t.”  You giggle into his mouth.

Teeth clash against teeth and though he hasn’t quite graduated to using tongue yet, you have the urge to introduce him.  Before you can pass your tongue along his plump bottom lip, he curses under his breath as he pulls away, only causing worry to spread across your face.

“You’re freezing.”  His hands rub up and down your arms to somewhat heat you up and only then do you realize your face feels completely numb.

“No, I’m fine.”  You protest against your better judgment.  It wasn’t exactly fitting to be in tights while one of the first snow falls of the year ensued.

“You’ll be a popsicle in like three seconds.”

Eddie softly smiles, reaching for your hand and tugging you with him toward the house.  A whine escapes you, a pathetic whimper but you manage to shuffle yourself along with him.  Before entering the realm of reality beyond the front door, Eddie turns to you, stars in his eyes, something glimmering.

“How’s my nose?  Snotty?”  He grins, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

[byunpum]

Something cute!

I remember one time when one of my cousin was little she asked me to teach her some ballet, or the basic, and wondering since the boys have their bonding time with their Auntie

What about the girls, like Kiri and Tuk, learning some ballet from their auntie and a folk song that she and Jake share as children

Together in a moonlit forest from Bayonetta origin song is what auntie singing

Pair: Nephews sully x Aunt human reader x Big brother jake

Warning: None, just in love with aunt reader...is just literally me <3

AVATAR MASTERLIST

"Run…kiri!!!" says tuk running as fast as she can. She had to ask her aunt something, she was the only one who could help them. "I'm coming…just calm down" says kiri trying to follow her younger sister's footsteps. About 20 minutes ago they had found some kind of box, which made a strange noise-the one they assumed was music from the people in the sky. And there was someone walking around, but it was someone very small. Tuk was so worried, and if that girl needed help. The girls went to look for the only person they knew who could help them, their aunt Y/N. Compared to their father, Y/N always had the best answers. According to Norm, Y/N was near the river that was close to the village. She had to hurry, tuk was sure you would finish taking samples and go hide in the lab.

You were so busy looking at the aquatic plant that you didn't notice tuk's noisy footsteps. "Y/N!!! AUNT Y/N!!!" the girl is screaming, she is desperate. And she was also followed by an agitated kiri, trying to follow her sister's footsteps. "Wait for me!!!" kiri gets to where tuk is. Kiri didn't usually run or be very active. So you assume it's something very serious. "Girls…what happened? Are you all right?" you ask worriedly. Tuk takes a breath. "We found a girl…and she needs our help" the girl shouts. You look at your niece in surprise, what is she talking about? "Tuk, are you okay?" you ask her, putting your hand on her forehead. "Yes…she's spinning around. And it's making a weird noise?" says Kiri, taking the strange box from her sister's hands. Kiri shows you the strange object and you just laugh. The girls look at you with concern.

"Girls…this isn't real" you take the box in your hands, and turn the key that was on the back. Causing it to produce music. "This is a musical box…and this is just an ornament, like a replication of a ballerina. And that's ballet music you hear," you speak, and watch as the two girls' mouths drop open. Of course… they didn't understand you. "How about if I show you how to dance ballet?" you look at them and see how they both get excited. "But what is bal…balle…?" says tuk, you laugh a little. "Ballet…it's a kind of human dance, I'm not very good but I'll show you something." You speak. Getting up from the floor, you wipe your thighs a bit. And you lead the girls to a more comfortable area.

"Ok…do you hear that music? That's your father's and my song. We used to listen to it before bedtime. Mom always used to sing it and dance to it…she'd spin around like this" you raise your arms to the sky, and try to stand on your tiptoes. You take a gentle turn, on one foot, and then stumble a little. "I'm sorry…I lost my touch" you laugh, but you can see the girls' faces light up, they are so impressed. Tuk gets up quickly and starts to spin around. You walk over to Kiri and take her hand. "No…it's okay aunt Y/N" Kiri complains, but you force her to stand up. Kiri lifts her hand and starts to spin around. You correct a few steps. "Look…I'm a ballet" laughs tuk. "Tuk…they are called ballerinas" you laugh, they look so adorable. The music stops, and so does the laughter. Tuk takes the music box and hands it to you. "Aunt I think this is yours" says the little girl, you caress her face and give her a kiss on the cheek.

"By the way, where did you find this?" you ask her, you were so busy that you forgot to ask. "Ahhh in some old boxes. Norm is cleaning up, and we were helping. And we found this…the music box" says Kiri. You stare at the object, feeling a giant nostalgia. Sometimes you can miss the old times, and this was one of them. "Thank you…this is it" before you could finish, tuk takes another turn. You laugh and imitate her. "Hey it's getting late…why don't you go to your mother's, I'll catch up with you later" you wanted to be alone, the homesickness you felt was something you didn't want to share with the girls. The girls said goodbye to you and left you alone in your memories.

You look at the music box again, and you turn the key. And you let the music play… you put the box in a place on the floor. And you start to dance like you used to do, you close your eyes and you think you are in your room. Which you shared with your siblings, you imagine your mother smiling and clapping. Once again you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice your older brother's presence. Jake had heard the melody and came over to where you were dancing, and found you dancing. The man sat down on a rock that was right in front of you. And he watched as you twirled around and smiled. "You've got crooked feet," says Jake. You open your eyes a little startled, and laugh at the sight of your brother. "Oh…I don't think so. You're worse" you walk up to him and take his hand. "Come…dance" you invite him.

Jake laughs a little, takes a quick look around. No one could see Toruk Makto dance the way he was going to dance. Jake began to twirl around and do a few little jumps. You, for your part, couldn't stop laughing. "What is that?" your cackles were loud and tears were threatening to come out. "I'm dancing" Jake laughs with you, sitting down on the floor, taking your hand. To hug you. "Far from my family, In the woods I will be left alone. Lost within my heart. The tears fall " sings jake as you hug him and close your eyes.

"You still remember the lyrics" you lay your head on his chest. "Why wouldn't I?" jake kisses you on the top of your head. After all you were still his little sister.

[sailormoonandme]

Mamoru is NOT useless in the Anime

Yes, yes, the memes are funny and all, but this is simply objectively not true and I'm rather exhausted of folks critiquing the character/the anime as though it were.

I will hopefully kill his BS once and for all.

"He just throws a rose and leaves!"

For those who have actually watched the anime (or even just the very first episode) to describe Tuxedo Mask as 'useless' is reductionist to the point of being outright disingenuous. In particular when this argument is made in such a way as to negatively compare him to his manga counterpart, who is put over as allegedly superior on this point.

The original 1992 Sailor Moon anime had 200 episodes, 3 TV specials*, 2 theatrical shorts and 3 films, with these latter theatrical releases being dubiously canonical to the anime. Mamoru appears in the overwhelming majority of those 208 entires, even accounting for the final 34 episodes where he was dead/functionally absent almost all of the time. Even if we seriously low balled things, the majority of those appearances feature him partaking in the following scenario.

Sailor Moon, often with her fellow Senshi, are fighting the monster of the day (maybe it's a higher ranking villain, or a general threat they are dealing with).

They get into a tight spot where either they or whoever/whatever they are trying to protect is in danger from whatever threat they are combatting.

Then, out of the blue, a rose slices through the air and imbeds itself into the scenery like a dart. Typically, this action saves the lives of Sailor Moon, her friends or whomever they might be protecting.

Tuxedo mask gives a speech and either leaves or else sticks around to see Sailor Moon perform her finishing move that effectively ends whatever threat she was dealing with, often with Tuxedo Mask being the one to prompt her into performing this finshing move.

For the sake of argument lets pretend that the above is literally the sum totality of what Mamoru does in regards to the superheroics of Sailor Moon. How could anyone describe the above as 'useless'?

If his interventions regularly save Sailor Moon's life then that is a zillion miles away from useless. For him to be useless, his actions need to be superfluous, pointless, contribute nothing. Even if he contributed a little bit he would by definition not be useless. And saving the protagonist's life is much more than 'a little bit'. If the protagonist dies then the story is over. Evil has won, the world is doomed.

And this isn't even considering all the ways Mamoru contributes OUTSIDE of the above scenario.

He has, whilst untransformed, stabbed a Lemures with a knife to save Sailor Moon.

He has willingly acted as a magical life support system for Chibi-Usa when her Pure Heart was stolen, an act that maybe anyone else could have performed but it is still a noble thing to do, in particular when it freed up the more powerful characters to go get her heart back.

He personally met up with the Outer Senshi to learn about them on behalf of the other girls, going alone which might have been dangerous, but the episode also gives the impression that he, as the oldest member of the team, was better positioned to get info from the older Outer Senshi who has a demeaning view of the younger Inner Senshi. In this same episode, he tried to convince the Outers to join forces with the Inners, acting as a diplomat.

He went 1-on-1 with Rubeus to defend an injured Sailor Moon who was herself acting as a human shield for Chibi-Usa

He has personally gone on a one man mission to infiltrate the Black Moon Clan's HQ to rescue Sailor Moon from being sexually assaulted by Prince Demande.

Mere episodes later he and Artemis went on a scouting mission to learn more about the Malefic Black Crystal

He formed a double team with Sailor Moon to tackle a tennis themed Youma, an encounter that involved more than a singular rose throw and a speech. One of the multiple times he got more directly involved in fighting the monster of the day

He literally carried Sailor Moon on his back to save her when they were both trapped in an elevator courtesy of Nephrite

He was prepared to willingly reveal his identity and hand both himself and his Rainbow Crystals over to Zoisite in order to save Sailor Moon and her friends

The love he shared with Usagi directly led to the manifestation of the Silver Crystal, to the salvation of Chibi-Usa when she'd been brainwashed into Black Lady & the creation of a new weapon and transformation brooch for Usagi in season 3

As Prince Endymion, he went against his own subjects and risked his life to infiltrate the Moon Palace and warn his beloved Serenity that his home planet was going to invade her home

He took not one, not two, but three impalements to protect Sailor Moon's life

More often than not he has acted as reliable emotional support for Usagi and Chibi-Usa, encouraging them, helping them with homework or just being there for them. i.e. he is an imperfect, but ultimately good husband and father. Which is particularly impressive considering he hadn't yet married his wife nor conceived his child.

There are those who might scoff at the latter. Is emotional support really useful? Well, putting aside how the Sailor Moon universe clearly demonstrates how magical power/energy is directly linked to emotions, this is categorically true in the real world as well. There are no end of testimonies from fire fighters, doctors, people who have serious illnesses, or soldiers that the emotional support of thier loved ones have kept them going and kept them alive. So, this is rather useful for our heroine Usagi who's job is that of a Sailor Soldier.

The Outer Senshi

Furthermore, there is an inherent hypocrisy in the 'Mamoru is useless' narrative because such criticisms are never levelled against other characters whose typical role in the narrative are similar to Mamoru's.

The most popular season of the original anime was season 3 (Sailor Moon S) and one of the biggest reasons for that show's popularity were the fan favourite Outer Senshi: Sailors Uranus, Neptune, Pluto and Saturn. Let's exclude Saturn as she wasn't active as a Senshi for most of season 3. Uranus and Neptune's role in the first half of season 3 typically amounted to

Attacking the monster of the day, usually to the same end that Mamoru's rose throws did, i.e. a distraction or last minute save

Swiping the Pure Heart of that episode's victim

Checking it over before concluding it wasn't a Talisman

Leaving, or else at least standing by as Sailor Moon administered her finishing move on the monster of the day

Golly...that seems just as 'useless' as Mamoru now doesn't it? In fact, maybe more so considering they weren't even trying to help Sailor Moon in the first place. In fact, during their second appearance, they unintentionally saved the lives of a powerless Usagi, her friends and an innocent civilian to check a Pure Heart, then uncaringly left them all in danger.

You know who then saved them immediately after that? Mamoru!

Later when he too was overwhelmed by the monster he directly contributed to saving the day as his emotional bond with Usagi generated the Spiral Moon Heart Rod, upgrading Sailor Moon and giving her the power to save everyone.

During the third sub-arc of season 3 (where the recurring villain was Mimet of the Witches 5) Sailor Pluto joined the Outer Senshi's ranks and their role in the typical monster of the day plots became yet more minimal. More than once, the trio literally appeared but did nothing, something that had also happened at least once before Pluto joined the team. Examples include (but are not necessarily limited to) episodes 97 (The Labyrinth of Water – Ami Targeted), 116 (Sunny Skies After a Storm – A Friendship Dedicated to Hotaru) and 118 (Battle Inside the Demonic Space – The Sailor Guardians’ Gamble). In some of these instances the Outers deliberately choose to do nothing.

Barring 2 of the specials mentioned above (one of which was a clip show), the Outer Senshi were wholly absent in season 4/Sailor Moon SuperS. In one of those specials, upon learning that a new threat had arisen Uranus and Neptune...choose to continue their road trip and leave the fighting to Usagi and the others...How...useful???????

They, along with Pluto and Saturn get much more involved during the course of the final season/Sailor Stars. Even then, Saturn only appears in the first few episodes and the last few. Pluto only gets involved in the monster of the day schemes once or twice and Uranus and Neptune three or four times, if that. Whilst Mamoru is barely involved at all in this season, he at least has the excuse of being dead for most of it.

So, the fan favourite Outer Senshi got far LESS involved and were LESS useful than Mamoru typically was in the course of the whole show. In fact, even if we exclude the first two seasons where (exempting Pluto) the Outer Senshi hadn't appeared yet, Mamoru overwhelmingly contributed MORE than the Outer Senshi did.**

The Other Senshi

Much the same can be applied to the Sailor Starlights. The Starlights more often than not actually got MORE involved in fighting the monsters of the day during season 5 than the Outer Senshi did in season 3; or at least they were interested in defusing a direct and active threat to innocent lives. But even they literally showed up and did nothing on at least one occasion.

Whilst the Starlights are nowhere close to the Outer Senshi's popularity, they are also never subjected to the 'they are useless' narrative Mamoru frequently is.

Nor in fact are the Inner Senshi of Sailors venus, Mars, Jupiter and Mercury. Now, whilst it's easy to argue due to their superior screentime, the fact that they often initiate combat with the monster of the day and are generally heavily involved in whatever crisis is happening, that they are obviously more useful than Mamoru is.

And you know what, even including the rare occasions they too show up and do nothing else (or do a last minute save like Mamoru is prone to do) this is perfectly true. It is also perfectly true however that the quartet have rarely ever defeated any monster of the day on their own. The overwhelming majority of the time the Inner Senshi act as a distraction to the Monster of the day or else sufficiently lower its HP so that Sailor Moon can actually beat the monster. That might be more useful than Mamoru's typical contributions, but, call me crazy, it seems like Sailor Moon is doing the lion's share of the work there. So, how 'useful' are the Inner Senshi really if we run by the 'Mamoru is useless' narrative?

If Mamoru is useless so are many if not all of the more popular heroic characters in the series.

But...how useless is Mamoru in the anime compared to the Manga?????????

*Well, one special with three segments, but go with me on this.

**They were mostly absent from season 4 whilst he appeared routinely in that season. Meanwhile, in the season he was mostly absent, they rarely helped out.

Obviously, there are real life writing reasons behind that difference, but my point is why is the fandom not treating the Outer Senshi as 'useless' too?

[prof-peach]

What's a happy adoption story that's occurred on the island? Conversely, what's one of the worst adoption attempts seen?

All adoption stories have a lot of joy in them for us at Dotaku, but I suppose one or two stand out.

We had a seemingly lost and quite old Mawile handed in to us, clear care put into their lifestyle, it's teeth were in good condition for its age, it had no illness, clear and soft skin, creeping joint aches but it was to be expected for the pokemon age, but it had no pokeball, so no trainer ID to return them to.

We expected someone to come for it, we even put out posters on the mainland to help find its trainer, but no one came forward. We eventually posed the topic of rehoming to the pokemon and it firmly refused, we did not bring it up again. This pokemon would sit every time people came off the boats at the dock as if waiting for someone, and each time would walk away dissapointed.

Five years passed, it had never given us trouble, was well behaved and kind in nature, even partook in plnety of island events with time, became one of the permanent fixtures here.

And then out of the blue, an old woman turned up with her grandson, visitors. We were made aware of the dimensia she was living with just in case she wandered off, and catered to it no problem. Staff report that she walked around without issue, enjoyed the grounds just line anyone else, until that is, she spotted this one Mawile, and the pokemon saw her, the two had a moment of recognition.

Theyre both in tears as soon as they reach eachother, the Mawile ran for this woman, we didnt know if it was hostile or not at first, but nope, there as a big hug shared and progressive tears. The grandson filled us in that his grandma use to have a partner but came from a village that just lived with pokemon, no balls, no fancy items, just a mutual choosing. But the Mawile had been stolen by a young trainer passing through years ago, with no pokeballs to stop the capture process, the boy assumed someone caught the pokemon and left with it, seperating the pair. It was kind of the one thing his Grandma would always look for in her later years, forgetting that she'd lost her beloved partner, becoming increasingly worried repeatedly as her illness worsened over the years. It caused a lot of grief.

we can only assume the pokemon got free or released, and was handed in to the island as a "difficult case" due to its reluctance to listen to others.

The woman went home with her pokemon, reunited after 5 long years apart, it brought a tear to plenty of the staff's eyes thats for sure.

On the opposing end we've had plenty of shady folk come in and try to adopt from us, but theres a few measures we put in place when were suspicious. I dont discuss the security precautions we apply in these cases to hide the pricess and keep the pokemon and staff safe here.

Despite this, one or two slip the net on rare occasion, it happens, were not perfect. One that stays with me was a woman who came in to look for a partner, making all the best attempts to charm a quite fantastic little Treeko, a rare variant with fantastic leopard markings. She was forthright and seemed ordinary, we went through our regular security checks and nothing came up on her ID, figured it was a fine match. So she went through the process of adopting, staff saw no red flags. I kick myself now, if i'd been around her with Val we could have stopped this, but i'd been too busy with other jobs to oversee that particular case.

She leaves with the pokemon, and we're none the wiser, but anyone who knows us, knows we do home visits after adoption to make sure a pokemon is happy and well. usually 3 within the year. Some of our staff turn up to an abandoned building, no pokemon, no people, nothing. The hunt began, Grey was quick to try to see if the pokemons ID had been pinged at any pokecentres, but nothing came up. We kept looking, and called in some favours at the local ranger bases and police stations to watch.

Eventually someone spots the woman in question, two regions over in Hoenn, selling eggs. She got pulled over for trafic violations while driving and got flagged. I went over personally to see what was going on, and turns out she was illegally breeding rare species to sell for huge money. The treeko was in BAD condition by this point, we took it back along with two dozen or so eggs, another Sceptile, and a pair of shroomish with unsual patterns that were on their last legs. She was taken to court for cruelty charges and served time.

The pokemon however were fine in the end, took some time to rehabilitate them, but they still hang around the island, that experience was traumatic for them so they choose to stay with us for saftey sake. We have no issues with this, and have since tightened our security checks. The womans trainer ID was a fake, a really convincing one, we messed up. It's cases like that that'll push us to all do better however, we learned a lot, and hold onto those failures to push forward in a better way.

Just glad the pokemon survived and are now healthy and happy.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

beginning of how to ball and aristotle

first chapter of my new series you know how to ball, i know aristotle which is hockey player!cassian and book girly!reader

this is general headcanons and how their love story began <3

-At first, you were a puck bunny. A nerdy little puck bunny.

-And you had zero shame. Hockey players knew how to fuck. And you needed to blow off some steam. You also weren’t a fan of relationships in the slightest. 

-You were Cassian’s most trusted hook up, he didn’t show an interest in anyone really until you. To be honest, he was the only one you hooked up with. It felt weird to fuck his teammates too. 

-When you realized you were in love with him, you panicked quite a bit. You didn’t fall in love with people. You refused. 

-You freaked out enough that you just stopped answering his calls. His texts. He showed up at the house you shared with Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Morrigan, Amren, Viviene, Nuala and Cerridwen. The girls had to keep covering for you. 

-Eventually, Rhys and Feyre both confronted you. Rhys had said, “Y/N, he’s so miserable. His team keeps losing because he’s thinking about you constantly. Just hear him out.” 

-You knew you were being shitty so you apologized to Rhys for putting him in that position, but then you went to go to Cassian at the apartment he shared with Azriel and Rhys. 

-You kind of wanted to die but, you’d do it for him. 

-When you knocked, Cassian answered. 

-He looked like shit, but he got so happy when he saw you. 

“I’m so sorry.” Was what you started with. 

“Wanna come in?” He angled the door more open. 

You nodded, barely being able to keep your tears at bay. 

Once the door shut, you let the first tear fall down.

“Nobody else is home.” Was all Cassian said. “It’s safe to cry now, unless….you don’t want me to see. I can walk away.” 

That made you start crying harder. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” You hiccuped, “I was so scared and I just, I didn’t know what to do.” 

“Could’ve talked to me.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You wiped your cheeks. “But, I was a coward and I ran. Because that’s what I do. Whenever someone shows genuine interest in me, I run because I can predict love stories in books, and I know whatever happens with them, I can still walk away and things won’t affect me.” 

You took the tissues he was offering you, “and I’m not used to people actually liking me, like that-” “Love.” 

“What?” You sniffed. 

“I love you. I want you to know I’m all in.” He shrugged, as if this conversation was easy. As if it was easy confessing your love to someone. 

“You shouldn’t.” “And why is that?” 

“If this past week is anything to go by.” You gestured to the air. “I wouldn’t want to be with me either.” 

“I’m willing to work on communication skills. Are you?” He asked, stepping even closer to you. 

“You still wanna give me a shot?” 

“Would you let me?” 

You nodded, more tears falling down. He smiled, “can I hug you? I’m dying here.” 

You nodded again, your voice failing you and just letting out a cry. He quickly took you into his arms. God, you missed this. His strong arms wrapping around you, his scent enveloping you. 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered. “I’m going to love you so hard. I’ll communicate everything.” 

He let out his own soft chuckle, but you heard the tears in his voice. You two pulled away and rested your foreheads together. “I know it’ll be hard. All I ask is that you work with me.” His own tears fell down. 

You nodded, some more tears falling down your face, you wiped his away with your sleeve as gently as possible. 

“I still hate it when you cry.” He said, wiping your tears away. 

You sniffed, it sounded very gross and snotty. But he still looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 

-After that, and a lot of talking, you two began officially going out. 

-You had sent a text to your shared group chat and that was the announcement. Just to let folks know. 

“Hey we worked shit out. We’re together. Don't be weird about it.” Was what you sent. 

Meanwhile, Cassian sent a reaction image of someone giggling and kicking their feet. 

You heart reacted each others messages.  

Rhys responded with, “screenshotting this and displaying it at your wedding.” 

Azriel: “she said don’t be weird.” Feyre: “cuties!! also dw about rhys, he’s a lover of love”

Rhys: “easy to be when you’re my love, Feyre darling. 😘”

Nesta: “🤮. Im too ace for this shit. Congrats y/n and cass. Die rhys.” 

After laugh-reacting Nesta’s message, you both turned your phones on mute. Rhys and Nesta loved each other, they just had weird ass ways of showing it. 

-Anyway back to the headcanons. 

-This man went feral seeing you in his jersey. 

-Like after the game, fucked you in the car, with the jersey on. 

-His good luck charm is one of your hair ties on his wrist. If he doesn't have it, it’s a bad game. It’s to the point where the coach will contact you if Cassian doesn’t have a hair tie on his wrist. 

-He bench-presses you, he says he wants to keep up his strength so he can always pick you up and toss you around 

To which you responded with, “you calling me fat?” 

He smirked, “I like a woman with thighs, babe.” 

The audacity of this man. 

-He got a penalty for launching at an opposing team member who was making a derogatory comment about your figure. 

(Cassian did indeed fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk the next day after that). 

-You accidentally became a meme when you went to his practice and just read in the bleachers for the entirety of it. 

-But you never missed a game. If it was a home game you were in the audience, if it was an away game you’d text him all your thoughts and watch it live. 

-He always went book shopping with you. He even had his own favorite bookstores to go with you too. He wasn’t much of a reader, but you got him on some audiobooks. He did enjoy history so he liked listening to those. 

-He’d carry your books around for you, pick out ones he’d like you like. He offers commentary. He loves opening smutty books and reading random passages. Sometimes you’d buy them off of that alone. 

-He would always take time off to attend book signings or festivals with you. He loved seeing how excited you got and nervous in the presence of your favorite author. 

-You two adored each other with your whole hearts, and one day, Rhys did get to showcase that text screenshot to the guests at your wedding during his best man speech. 

[missmarveledsblog]

Call me cupid part 3 ( Joel Miller x reader)

Summary: Sunshine ex shows up leading to sunshine feeling the barrel of his gun and Joel praying another person he loved not to be taken from him especially when he never got the chance to tell her how he truly feels

Age gap ( reader is 24 while joel in his 40s) , little angst , fluffy fluff  , violence but it apocalypse baby , joel channeling his inner hulk

She felt it , not just the cold barrell in her back , now she  could feel their worry , the fear that filled the room and how they waited on baited breathes .

" Now come don't be stupid like you usually are you can see if you hurt me , ya'll ain't making it out alive" she hissed only getting him to push the gun harder on her skin .

" i'll tell you this you let her go and that be end of it you get one chance to walk out here" tommy reasoned .

" And if i don't " she couldn't help squeeze her eyes tightly knowing he'd give anything just to hurt her .

" then i will make sure of it you feel every ounce of pain a human being can feel then , i'll feed you alive to the infected " joel growled.

" hey there well look at you , why don't we get to know each other " the woman purred.

" he doesn't want your crusty dusty bits lady " ellie yelled.

" i suggest you put that gun down fuckface or these nice people will show you how much they really deal with the likes of you " she growled hand reaching into her belt . while her ex was looking at the town folk pulled out their own weapons she felt the hilt of her hunting knife .

" Might take you with me baby be like old times" he kissed her cheek ignoring the woman he was with scoff .

" i'd drink acid like it was water then do a stupid thing like that  " she huffed pulling the knife out and driving it backward into his leg and  knocking him back while he dropped the gun . Just as Ellie went to dive for for it the woman ran at her making sunshine drag the woman back by the hair , holding her  back til she heard it . Then she felt it  the burning sensation followed by the warm liquid pouring  out her stomach .

"now look what you did , i told you  she useless " her ex smirked going to shoot again only for tommy to crack him in the back of the head .

" tommy check the perimeter there not going to be alone , raiders " she grasped her lower stomach hitting the floor .

" we got it and them, get her" tommy called sending joel into action .

" come on i got you " he lifted her up heart breaking at her screams .

" bring her clinic " he didn't even care to look up eyes focus on her face racing to where he needed to get her then to listen to doc .

" now sweetheart i know it's hard but you gotta keep those pretty eyes of your open  ok " he pleaded .

" i bet you say that to all the ladies joel miller " she laughed coughing mid sentence blood spilling from her lip. He didn't know if she cut it or something worse .

" Nah you little shit i can't lose you , not when i finally grew the balls to tell you how i feel so you keep those eyes open ok and stay with me  " he ran faster seeing her fighting it .

" And ... and those feeling you wanna tell me? " she asked fear laced in her features like it was last time she was going to see his face . Almost polarising his features burning them to her mind and heart .

" Well you get through this like i know you will and i'll tell you how much i love you and how much this town needs sunshine ok, I was gonna talk to you darling tell you but no you had to be hero huh? " he felt the tears falling down his own cheeks.

" well then i can't wait to .. " he felt it her voice dropped completely and eyes closing as he ran faster than he did in his life willing her to wake with all his might til he was pushed out of the room history repeating in such sick cruel way . he felt the anger rise like the wrath of hell was opening in him . charging past as tommy and few men held the animal she had for an ex, the bastard whining about his leg . not a word was said when joel's fist cracked the mans jaw nor could he hear the shouts of his brother . Too blind to his own rage as he kept hitting the man harder and harder . nothing was stopping him even when his own knuckles spilt  til he hear heard her screams coming from the clinic .

" joel she's needs you " ellie shouted seeing a bit of clarity when he stood from the groaning man. " she scared and she needs you " ellie repeated .

" deal with um " was all he growled before heading back in the clinic blood dripping down his knuckles first he heard her whimpers then he heard her screams again  sending him into the room faster than he ever moved .

" i need you distract her some how, bullets in there" Doc yelled .

" hey sunshine look at me , come on good girl you need to look at me let em get it out " he held her down and nodding when  another few blood curdling screams and the bullets was out .

" just keep her still its a clean shot , doesn't look like it hit anything but it's more waiting game now " .

" did they check the premiteres " she sobbed weak and colour draining from her face more as time passed .

" hey don't worry about anything or one but yourself ok " he rubbed her forehead .

" here bite this " she felt the wood in between her teeth , muffling most of her screams as the doc began suturing the wound closed before she was out cold . it all felt like an eternity hell it could of been minutes or seconds for all he cared .

" she needs bed rest be safer to move her home then leaving her here some others  got injured so i need the space too , let me check your hand before you go " .

" ellie get the door " was all he said before carrying her out and back to his house for all he cared this was her home now .

first few days he barely moved from her bedside , ellie brought their food back then by the fifth day she awoke groaning and wincing sending him to his feet.

" You better not been sleeping on that damned sofa " she croaked.

" nah he's been either sleeping on that chair or the floor " ellie smiled seeing her eyes opening fully .

" did they check the land around  " she asked softly trying to sit up and thank joel for cup of water clearly the dryness in her throat .

" yeah they got the bastards hiding that was few days ago honey" he rubbed her head softly.

" tommy and maria told me to keep them updated so i'll get to that " ellie stood unsurely before rushing over and hugging the woman tightly.

" easy she's still recovering " joel hissed .

" leave her, hey darling girl i told you i wasn't going anywhere and I'm not breaking my word i love you too much  " was all sunshine said wrapping her own weak arm around the girl feeling her sobs vibrate through her.

" ok ok i'm going now and i love you too i guess   " she sniffled wiping her face.

" well i'll be here when you get back , can't get rid of me that easy " she smiled softly as ellie left

" you scared me you little shit " he sighed pressing his forehead against hers .

"i scared me but i couldn't  let that whore attack ellie or prick could of hurt you or ellie hell even tommy I'd never let that happen whether it get me in this situation or not " she felt her tears welling up .

" well no more hero act i can't lose you when i barely even got you , i do have you right? " his eyes showing nothing but love and awe as the worry and fear washed away.

" giving that you love me?" it wasn't suppose to come out like a question but she wanted to make sure she actually heard it and wasn't some hallucination due to her injuries or some sort of fever dream .

" giving that i love you "he confirmed now he look scared ,more scared than he ever been in his life never thinking he would find himself feeling this way . Falling in love again it was a dream come true and she was still here .

" if it helps old man i love you too " she smiled pressing into him leaning up and connecting her lips with his . she didn't even care her side was screaming burn pain when she pulled him deeper into the kiss . she needed him more than she needed oxygen . he needed her just the same , the feeling of finally having her in such away made his nerves come alive , though he held back so much still conscious of the state she was in .

" hey im no doctor but you ain't in any condition to be doing shit like that now apart before i put a hose on you two " she couldn't help the giggle at the younger miller pulling away her cheeks red as she looked to the visitors .

" they weren't as far as i thought " Ellie snorted .

" anymore ex's i need to hunt down " tommy teased yet she was happy for it all , happy she was here to see them all .

" you're still an ass , that's why your not my favourite miller " she rolled her eyes . " but no it was one ex " she almost whispered.

" hey her cheeks flushing is a good sign right" tommy continued his teasing as her cheek felt on fire hiding her head in joels neck .

" someone hit him for me " she whined as maria slapped him back of the head with a laugh. " thank you " she smiled.

" oh last of your stuff in down stairs by the way , joel figures since your going to be recovering here , it was safer to keep them here , i got your old mans knife cleaned and sharpened it for you " .

" you mean i did " maria rolled her eyes at her husband .

" i'm trying to be her favourite here" he laughed. " seriously how you feeling sunshine " he asked softly .

" like i got shot but yet luckiest girl ever" lay her head on joels shoulder.

" we found some pain relief we spilt it between you and maria when she does eventually pop " he smiled handing the small bottle to his brother .

" thank you , still not my favourite even if you give me drugs " she smirked as he shook his head laughing .

" well i ain't sticking my tongue in your throat to be your favourite miller now" .

" ellies my favourite miller excuse you " she shrugged making the girl eyes light up .

" i don't disagree with that choice one bit once i'm your second " joel smiled softly kissing her lips softly . finally having his sunshine back making his world bright again .

" hey guys" ellie called making them all look up to the beaming teenager . " can call me cupid from now on " she winked.

[dirtytransmasc]

What if Eyaw literally adopted Spider? She got fed up with everyone ignoring her signs (Except Mo’at because she’s a cool grandma and knows what’s up) and said “Fine… I’ll do it myself”. She’ll find a way to connect to the boy and show herself as a regular Na’vi only Spider and maybe Kiri can see. She WILL mother the hell out of him.

it was clear that eywa was done with people failing her boy on his eighth birthday; she had little hope for the human folk whole up in the lab, and she knew it would take time for spider to get accepted into The People, but 3 years of neglect was enough for her. she lead spider out into the woods, ato'kirina lighting his way to the spirit tree. it was there she took him into her arms, holding him tight, being the first mother to rock him to sleep, to sing him sweet songs, and hold him as he slept peacefully, never once letting him get stolen away by bad dreams or nightmares.

she comes to him in his sleep, promised him he would never hurt or be alone like that ever again. she kissed his brow and brushed back his hair, and told him that when he couldn't come to her, for things she couldn't do for him in this life, he could go to mo'at, that she saw him and that she would take care of him.

that doesn't mean that she didn't hide him away from days, show him he didn't need that damned mask, nor did she leave him alone with only mo'at in the physical plane.

she left him with a gift, a gift to connect with all of her creatures, to see and know, to belong in her world like any other na'vi, like the very people who denied him.

she held him in the woods, watched him play, tussling with viperwolf pup's, racing slinths, walking among herds of titanothere. she watched him flourish, glowing like he never had before, finally holding a true smile on his face. she liked seeing him like this, watching him splash in the creek and stained green by sliding in the grass. she liked to hear his laugh and the way he spoke with a voice so full of kindness, to her, to the plants and animals he was surrounded by, in the little voice he used when talking to himself.

when she finally allowed him to be found, she covered him in ato'kirina, had a thanator lurk beside him, wrapped her roots around his feet, made it clear that he was hers now. if the animal and the roots and the mask wasn't enough; spider spoke of Her, how she saw him, held him those last few nights, showed herself to him. he called her mama, and broke her divine heart in the process. that was her baby.

when jake dragged him back to the village, she didn't let spider leave, he wouldn't go back to that god awful lab to more people that didn't want him. here in the village she could lead him back to her each night and hold him, so she could watch over him while he played with the kids of the village, and have access to mo'at who took over the rest of his care.

spider grew up with no mother or father, not one that would claim him in the physical world. mo'at was a good caretaker, taking her new duty with grace, taking the little ball of energy under her wing. the first thing she did was tame that hair, brushing it out with time and care, restoring it back to its beautiful curly golden state. she held the boy close, under her shall or on her hip as they went about village life. but most of all she embraced his connection with Eywa; she was not his mother, but She was, and spider would always know that.

through their nights together, she taught spider all he needed to know, introducing him to his ancestors; tsu'tey to teach him to fight, eytukan to teach him to lead, trudy to teach him to give his all for others, sylwanin to teach him to do what he thinks is right. he had a family, a big one, he was never alone, not if she could do anything about it.

that was her boy, and she would make sure he lived a good life, especially after she failed to show who should have been his family what they were losing.

[marlequinncos]

Now that HOTD Season 2 is over, I have a lot of thoughts about what has transpired. Full disclosure: I basically wrote an essay, so long post ahoy! I have read the book, meaning there are a couple book spoilers in here along with show spoilers. Also: there are all my personal opinions, so you may agree or disagree.

The Good

The show is beautifully shot and the cinematography is excellent. We've gotten some really gorgeous shots this season.

The dragons look great, they're animated well, and I like how we can really see their different personalities and their relationships with their riders.

The acting is solid pretty much across the board. Folks like Emma D'Arcy, Matt Smith, and Olivia Cooke are excellent as usual. The standout for me this season, though, is Tom Glynn-Carney as Aegon. He's thoroughly fleshed out his character and given him some really interesting shading and depth and I really enjoy watching him on-screen.

Some excellent new additions to the cast! Ser Simon Strong is a national treasure, Gwayne Hightower is a mood, Alys Rivers is who I aspire to be in life, and the Hull brothers are both interesting (especially their dichotomy) and they better show more with them as per the book.

Rook's Rest gave us our first real dragon battle of the show, and I thought it was really well done. I was concerned that it would be the kind of fight that's hard to follow visually, but it was clean and worked nicely. I also love that they made Aemond torching Aegon a conscious choice.

The costumes are, once again, beautiful.

The embroidery title sequence kicks a lot of ass, and I like how they're adding to it with major events.

I do really like how they've made Helaena a dreamer (which they started in season 1) and how she's a tragic Cassandra figure. However, I do have some issues with her that I'll talk about later.

The Red Sowing was done well. I was hoping we were going to see some people get incinerated to really underscore how dangerous claiming a dragon can be, and that did not disappoint.

Little Oscar Tully verbally suplexing Daemon through an announcer's table was everything I've ever wanted.

I really like the relationship between Rhaenyra and Alicent. That said, I think there are some real issues with the writing that I'll discuss below.

Big fan of them putting Tyland Lannister in Situations.

Aemond committing war crimes and serving cunt as ye olde Sephiroth. 10/10 no notes.

While I do think the tripping balls in Harrenhall arc went on for far too long, I like how the show is leaning into the magic of the world with the weirwoods and insane visions of the past, present, and future.

Women kissing

The Bad

The pacing. Listen, I like a slowburn (one of my favorite horror movies is The Witch which many people find boring), but the slow pacing has to build to something, and this entire season felt like it was just build-up with no payoff. Last season ended with a consequential event (death of Luke), and this season began with another (Blood and Cheese), yet I don't feel like those events have managed to push the plot forward. Even Rook's Rest, which seemed like we were finally getting the ramp up to all-out war that's been teased for one and a half seasons due to Aegon being burned and Rhaenys dying, didn't really ramp up the stakes. We're still waiting for the war, and it feels like Season 2 was just a giant teaser for Season 3 rather than a stepping stone of the whole story. Think of it this way: season 1 ended with a build-up to the war and yet somehow this season also ended as a build-up to the war. It doesn't feel like progress was made; we're essentially in the same spot. The season should have ended with either the taking of King's Landing or the Battle of the Gullet.

Blood and Cheese. There is a reason this event lives in infamy for book readers. It's essentially the Red Wedding of the Dance of Dragons, because of how truly heinous and horrifying of an event it is. But the show toned it down a lot, and I think that was a mistake. Not to mention the fact that the death of Aegon's heir, who was a literal child, only seemed to be an issue for about an episode, and then everyone kind of forgot about it. Frankly, I don't like how the deaths of Luke, Jaehaerys, and Rhaenys were somewhat glossed over other than an episode of some characters being sad. Those deaths should have reverberated with long-ranging consequences and I don't feel like that's the case.

The writing. It's just not as good this season. Yes, I know the writer's strike probably affected it, but still. The conversations are nowhere near as engaging or interesting as they were in season 1, and I'm someone who loves dialogue scenes of political intrigue. I also think some of the character decisions they've made don't work. The biggest issue I have in that regard is with Rhaenyra. I don't actually hate the scene in the Sept (even though I think it is kind of silly how Rhaenyra managed to sneak into KL without being detected), because I like how they establish that Alicent knows that was wrong in her assumption about Aegon and yet she doubles down and they both realize that war is now inevitable even if it all began because of a misunderstanding. But book Rhaenyra is both far more active and ruthless than her show counterpart. There's a reason they call her "Maegor with teats". I thought we were getting some of that "warrior queen Visenya" Rhaenyra during the Red Sowing episode, but the fact is that she's spent most of the season trying to decide on a course of action and trying to do everything peacefully. She should have thrown that out the window after her conversation with Alicent in the Sept. It's especially weird considering she ended season 1 out for blood for the death of Luke. I feel like the writers are afraid that having her sometimes make nasty decisions will make her unlikeable to the general audience. But by doing that, they've also reduced this fascinating woman into a shell of who she should be. Look at Dany and Cersei from GOT; both of them were women in positions of power who did not hesitate to make (sometimes bad) decisions and/or commit horrible acts to further their goals and guess what: for the most part, the audience liked them! Give me "blood and fire" Rhaenyra! Support women's wrongs! Make characters morally grey! LET WOMEN BE AWFUL!!

I also think that the writing is doing Alicent a disservice. They really don't know what to do with her, and its a shame because Olivia Cooke is great. She just feels rudderless to me.

It really looks like the show is cutting Nettles entirely and giving her plot to Rhaena and I don't like this choice. Nettles is an amazing character in her own right, and her relationship with Daemon is key for him to start changing his Targaryen supremacist worldview and for his arc as a whole. Plus, this takes away the significance of Rhaena and Morning at the conclusion of the Dance.

While I like Helaena being a dreamer, they need to give her more screen time and dialogue. Girl had almost nothing to do this season.

I wish we had seen more of Jace and Cregan in the North and the Pact of Ice and Fire. Not saying we need 20 minutes of that, but 5 would have been nice.

I like the idea of that big vision of the future in the finale, but knowing how GOT ended does soften the impact quite a bit. And I don't love that Daemon and Aemond kind of already know their fates?? That's definitely going to hurt their arcs going forward.

The season should have been 10 episodes. Having it be only 8 really messes with the pacing of the story. Not loving the 2 year breaks between seasons either.

The "Let's Wait and See"

Aegon said that Sunfyre is dead. I really hope he's wrong about that because boy howdy that will have major plot implications if Sunfyre really is dead.

DAERON REAL. It would have been nice if he had been mentioned in season 1 and actually seen in season 2, but at least we know he exists and isn't a cryptid. Hopefully we finally get to see him in action in season 3 because poor dude has just been implied for two whole seasons.

I hope we see more of the book's excellent side characters like Black Alys, Benjicot Blackwood, and Sabitha Frey (who we did technically see briefly, but if you're a book reader, you know what I'm talking about). I'd also like to see more Cregan.

Overall, I think the season was a mixed bag. I hope season 3 fixes some of the issues with pacing and writing, because they have a great cast and a show that looks beautiful.

[amberstormblade]

Yes it's 3:30am but we can ignore that because I just finished writing a fanfic about a fanfic. Is that weird? Maybe? No clue! Anyways! This is inspired by @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands 's Black Sheep, Come Home and everyone should go read that because it's amazing and makes me feral!

I might put this on AO3 too but for now it's just here!

i'm so sleepy, g'night folks! happy reading!

(Sorry for tagging you guys, I can undo that if you want)

The world seemed to shake as the dragon’s dying cries echoed through dimensions. A bolt of adrenaline shot through Rex as he realized what was about to happen. They had been inside the starter base as a sort of preparation as they hadn’t known when they would be visible again and didn’t want to risk instantly burning if previous experience was anything to go by. They’re a little nervous, it took a bit to adjust to everyone actually seeing them last time and even if they’ve been able to correct Legundo on where to look, it’s still something to get used to. 

Rex walked towards the center of the room. They took a deep breath and started looking at where their hands should be to try and see if anything had happened yet. Something had changed just, not how they had expected. It was like there was a crack in reality. A small, bright, jagged thing that was just floating there. They went to touch it but it moved with their hand, as if it was attached. Before they could even begin to comprehend what was going on, more cracks began to appear, spider-webbing their way up their arm.

“Okay… this- this is weird, yeah. It’s uh, it’s gonna be okay though. Because once it’s done, I’ll be visible again! So I guess I just… trust the process?” Rex was glad Legundo was in a separate dimension, that way he couldn’t hear their voice shaking. 

The cracks started to get brighter as they reached their neck. They started to burn. Rex’s breathing started to speed up as they felt like they were running a marathon in the desert. They could feel their throat as it seemed to close in on itself, could feel as their knees shook and gave way. They remember what Legs had said, that first time they had died. 

“Inevitable, heh.” The sudden raspiness of their voice catches them off-guard. Coughing does nothing to clear their throat. “Guess the timing was off? Inevitable, all the same.” The cracks have reached their chest now, seeming to gather around where their heart should be and spread out like veins. Rex struggles to stand back up, not really knowing where they would go, not really knowing what to do. They take one step towards the bed, two, they collapse again as the cracks reach their knees. It’s like their legs have been bound and any attempt to move them just causes more pain.

The burning is more intense now, not in the way of lava or fire, but in the way ice burns your hands from holding it too long. The cracks were draining any warmth that their body had held and it was like they were freezing over, at risk of shattering.

With a great deal of effort, they curl into a ball and just hug themself. Rex was glad Legundo was still in the End. Sure, it’d be nice to not be alone but they also don’t want him to see them like this. They wonder for a second if he’ll have a second funeral for them, mourn them a second time, but quickly dismiss the thought. They were lucky to get anything at all the first time, why would he bother to do the same thing twice? Maybe he won’t even realize they’ve died. Knowing how paranoid he is, Rex wouldn’t be surprised if he thought it was all part of some plan to get him. They might of laughed at the thought if it hadn’t been for the feeling that something was trying to crush them to death. The cracks writhing around their form seemed to be connecting, tightening to the point that they could no longer feel their limbs. They could still feel the tears falling down their face at least. Even if they had been able to move, they probably would have let them fall anyway. Not like anyone could see them. Quiet sobs slipped past their lips, as the burning cold sank in and the cracks grew brighter still. A part of them made a selfish wish. If this truly was the end, they didn’t want to be alone.

Maybe the Universe was kind, because a dull thud came from behind them. They would have recognized the sound anywhere. It was someone respawning at their bed or in this case, returning from the End. 

It was Legundo coming home.

“Rex, I’m back! You would not believe how-” His rather cheerful call was quickly cut off and they could feel as he rushed over to them. Quickly kneeling in front of them, Legundo reached out as if to touch them but hesitated at the last second. “Rex? What’s going on?” The worry in his tone was touching, in a way.

Rex tried to speak. Nothing came out at first, just a hoarse, rasping noise. Clearing their throat, they tried again. “...Don’t know. Started… after dragon. Hurts.” Broken sentences are all that can be managed but they get the point across. “Dying maybe… you alone?” They take a deep breath before, “sorry.” There was so much more they wanted to say, but their throat seemed to seal over again, leaving them wheezing for air.

“Hey- hey! It’s gonna be alright! I uh…” He trails off, digging through his things. Legundo pulls out a healing potion, probably one he had gotten from the End, and uncorks it. His hand hovers over Rex again. “I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I can see where your face should be pretty well so I think I can help you drink this. Just, bear with me, okay?” He lays his hand on Rex, flinching back for a second as though he had been shocked. Shaking out his hand, he puts their head on his lap. He cups their jaw oh so gently, as if afraid he might break them. Using his thumb, he traces their lips, carefully parting them. Lifting the bottle, he pours a small amount in their mouth and waits. It’s a struggle, but they swallow it. The sweet taste of watermelon lingers on their tongue as they breathe a little easier. Another mouthful has Rex sucking in their first proper breath since this began.

“...hey, ‘Gundo I- I don’t know how long I have. This didn’t happen last time. I think… I think I might be-”

“Don’t.” He cuts them off. His hand that had slipped from their jaw to their shoulder tightened slightly. “You’re not dying. You said you were going to protect me? You can’t do that if you’re not here. So- So no. You’re not leaving me alone again Rex so you’re going to get better! Okay?” His voice is thick with tears as he pulls them into a deep, bone-crushing hug. Instead of feelling restrictive, however, it felt freeing. It felt like home. A promise between two lonely people that they weren’t going to be alone again, not if they could do anything about it.

Straining to move their arms against the numbness that had overtaken them, Rex returned the hug. The cracks covering their form seemed to reach a crescendo as they flared brighter than the sun. The two just held tighter to each other as Rex cried out in pain. A sort of crackling sound could be heard for a seconds and then, just as suddenly as it all had started, the light and noise stopped.

Rex could still feel Legundo’s arms around them but couldn’t bring themself to open their eyes until, “Oh, you’re colorful.” They were still close enough that the whispered statement seemed to tickle his ear as Legundo leaned back from him slightly.

Painstakingly slowly, Rex opened their eyes. They looked down to see their familiar blue and yellow jacket. They looked up to see Legundo looking directly at them. Their face faintly reflected in his glasses. “Yeah,” They breathed, afraid that speaking too loudly would ruin the moment somehow, make everything suddenly revert. But no. 

There were no disappearing acts that would be happening today. In the next few days they would probably fall back into their familiar routines of secrets and cryptic actions. They would have tense moments and heated exchanges. But, they would also remember this moment. They would share a look followed by a fond smile. They would both find excuses to exist closer to each other, soaking in the contact that they craved but didn’t dare ask for. They would allow themselves a second of vulnerability, because that’s what helped them sleep at night. Someone always by their side to keep the nightmares at bay.

Moments like these aren’t easily forgotten. They both rest easy that night, knowing no matter what, they’ll always remember what it feels like when someone cares.

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 4. pink roses

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: the welcome ball is in full swing, but all you can do is stay outside and be on standby -- that is, until yeonjun decides to bring the ball to you.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol mentions

author’s note: it's time for a pure fluff chapter!! this one was fun to write 💖 chapters 3 and 4 were supposed to be one chapter, but there was just so much going on that i felt like i should split it into two (i generally prefer shorter chapters).

also, recommended music for this: gregory alan isakov & the colorado symphony orchestra - amsterdam

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night falls on the castle grounds and the ball is in full swing. even from outside, you can tell that the festivities have reached their heights just from the sounds: the clinking of glasses and plates, the raucous laughter from the lords and ladies, and the string quartet playing lively waltzes seemingly non-stop.

just moments ago you entered the ballroom yourself, not to celebrate but to replace a flower vase in the hallway that a drunken guest knocked over. as soon as you entered, your senses were bombarded; you remember seeing a parade of men in trimmed suits and women in rustling ballgowns, servants carrying trays full of wines and cocktails, and even someone’s dog jumping onto a couch to sniff a pastry that another guest was eating. everywhere you went was noisy, whether from chatter or music or the scraping of dinnerware. it was too much all at once, and you felt relieved when you spotted the broken flower vase and then made your exit soon after.

now that you are out of the ruckus, you make your refuge for the night in one of the gazebos in the front gardens.  you aren’t too far from the ballroom window, and you prefer to enjoy the ball this way. from the outside, you can observe the festivities and imagine yourself in them, but avoid all the messy sensations that come with them.

you wonder if yeonjun, soobin, and beomgyu are enjoying themselves, or if they too have become overwhelmed by the constant activity of the ball. then again, you muse, they are princes. meeting all sorts of people from far and wide is a duty that comes with their title, and perhaps at this point they have simply gotten used to it.

still, it would be nice if you could enjoy the ball with them…

the quartet starts to play a jaunty arrangement of an old folk song from your hometown, interrupting your train of thought. memories flood you as you hear the opening melody and your mind is transported back to the small market square where your father would bring you as a child. you remember your tiny hands pushing the cart containing all sorts of flowers and herbs that you would sell (your father did most of the actual pushing), and in your mind’s eye you see the merchants’ displays of everything from cured meats to leather gloves to silver jewelry. the merchants sing a song to pass the time, filling the market with a joyous rhythm, and your father too joins the chorus. once you’ve accompanied him to the market square enough times, your voice also chimes in, and even now you sing every word by heart as if you were with the merchants again.

you don’t notice yeonjun’s voice singing along with you until the last verse.

“i knew i’d find you from that pretty voice of yours.”

you turn in the direction of his voice, but any reply you had in mind evaporates at the sight of him. yeonjun is standing at the gazebo entrance and your jaw goes slack from just how beautiful he looks. the dark emerald green jacket he wears hangs well on his shoulders, and the gold embroidered details on the front shine in the moonlight. his hair has been slicked back, with a few strands left in front of his forehead, framing his face. even in the evening dimness you can make out his features: his shining eyes, his plush lips.

“you look…” stunning. wonderful. beautiful. “…good.”

it’s not the compliment you wanted to give, but yeonjun gets the message anyway. he lets out an awkward laugh and he turns his head away, covering his mouth with one hand. when he recovers, he turns to you with a small smirk. “and you look amazing too.”

you look down at your uniform, the same one that every servant in the castle is wearing, and frown. “sure, i do.”

“no, i mean it,” he says, stepping fully inside the gazebo to stand in front of you. “when i saw you here singing to yourself, smiling and thinking of something happy, i thought it was a beautiful thing to see.”

“come on, don’t say things like that! that’s so…” your face and ears grow warm, and you aren’t sure how to deal with the sensation.

“why not? i can say it if i want to.”

“i suppose,” you stammer. your entire face feels like it’s glowing and you can barely look yeonjun in the eye. he’s watching you so fondly and it’s adorable, but it also makes you feel something you can’t explain.

“anyway,” you clear your throat and stare at the ballroom window, “what are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be entertaining guests?”

“not for now. my parents are the ones talking to the diplomats. and everyone else… soobin and beomgyu are showing them some neat football tricks.”

“the same football trick that led them to meet me?”

he bursts out laughing and so do you.

“it’s boring in there without you, y/n,” he says.

“boring? i went in there for one minute and it was too much going on.”

“it only looks like a lot. most of them don’t really talk about anything, they just show off a lot and get drunk.” he sighs. “i missed you.”

you turn back to meet yeonjun’s gaze and nod. “i missed you, too. i was just wondering if you were okay.”

in between your words you hear the opening notes of a waltz. yeonjun perks up and stands straighter, then extends a hand to you. “i’d feel okay if i had a little waltz,” he says. “may i have this dance?”

“out here?”

“there’s nowhere else i’d rather dance with you in.”

you chuckle. he sounds so cheesy yet so earnest, and despite the elegant air he tries to pull off, you can see his eyes pleading with you to say yes. it only adds to his charm; how could you so cruel as to turn him down? you bow at him and take his hand, and he pulls you into position.

the music fills the air and you realize just what on earth you agreed to: you, a mere gardener who cannot dance to save their life, are waltzing with the crown prince. you have one hand clasped in his and another resting on his shoulder, and they both feel clammy. you barely keep up; you try to move your feet in time with the music but they drag rather than glide along. more than once do you step on yeonjun’s toes, and when it happens for the fourth time you nearly let go of him. you don’t want to think of what sorry state his once-polished dress shoes are now in.

“oh no 一 yeonjun, i’m so sorry 一”

yet he doesn’t let go; instead his hand on your waist rubs you reassuringly, then grips you a bit more firmly. with his other hand holding yours, he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “it’s okay,” he says. “just follow me.”

you relax in his hold and try to follow him. he moves in slower, more careful steps to match you, and that makes it easier not to drag your feet so much. yet he never breaks time with the music, even swaying his body to the melody, and you allow yourself to be carried away by him. in his arms you sway too, letting your tension be replaced by your natural rhythm, and bit by bit the self-consciousness holding your body back begins to disappear.

the violins begin their crescendo and he bends you into a slight dip, and to your surprise you have no trouble following him. when he guides your upper body back up you start laughing from sheer joy, and the laughter spreads to him too, his hold relaxing but not fully letting go. you shuffle a bit closer to him, fully embracing the moment, the music and his presence overtaking your senses. 

only when the sounds of the quartet die down and the waltz comes to an end do you realize just how close you are to yeonjun. he keeps his hold on you even after the music has faded, and locks his eyes with yours. you can’t look away — you don’t want to look away — and you find yourself admiring the beauty mark near his right eye, then up at his shining eyes. again you notice just how fondly he gazes at you, as if you really are his favorite person in the world. 

again you feel that something that you can’t explain. it isn’t unpleasant, quite the opposite in fact, and the feeling draws you even closer to yeonjun. 

he leans in towards you and you do too until your foreheads touch. your gaze falls on his lips. the inexplicable feeling fills your senses with a strange burst of warmth. the world comes to a stop as his arms wrap around you and something in you pulls you closer still...

clink! clink!

yeonjun lets go of you and pulls away, blinking as if he just woke up from a dream. you see the blush creeping up on his cheeks even as he covers his face with his hand. “uh, sorry,” he says, grinning from nervousness. “i, uh... i have to go now. they’re doing the toast.”

you stare at him, unable to comprehend the trance you were in mere moments ago. “yeah, it’s fine, i... i understand.”

you bow at him once more, and he does the same.

“good night, y/n.”

“good night, yeonjun.”

he turns and nearly runs back to ballroom to catch the toast, and only then do you release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

一

the next day is a busy one for all the staff of the castle, including you; there is plenty to clean up in the aftermath of a ball. at first you are assigned just to clear out the floral arrangements left behind in the ballroom, but the sheer amount of cleanup means that you are dragged by the servants into mopping up any spills, washing the dinnerware, and folding up the linens. you feel guilty seeing just how much of a mess the guests have made (you recall finding wine poured into one of the flower vases and wince), so you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

with all the cleanup to take care of, yeonjun assumes that you are once again too busy to personally deliver flowers to his room. yet when he returns there after a long afternoon of talks and tours with the remaining guests, he notices that the flower vase on the ledge has been replaced. gone are the extra lilies of the valley that a servant previously placed there, and in their place is a bouquet of pink roses. he rifles through their stems until he finds a piece of folded paper lodged in between them, takes it out, and finds your now-familiar handwriting:

pink roses are for gratitude. thank you for last night, let’s dance together again.

he smiles and bites his lip at the note, then places it in his pocket. for the rest of the day, in between lessons and more talks and dinners with diplomats, he finds himself taking it out and rereading it. he thinks of the pink roses in his room and of the dance he shared with you, and he regains just enough strength to keep going.

end notes: don't worry about soogyu, they'll be back in the next chapter (esp soobin)! the next ch will also start to introduce the angsty bits so i hope y'all are ready