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mbti-notes · 10 months ago

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Anon wrote: Dear mbti-notes, Thank you for your blog 💜 I hope you enjoyed your holidays. I'm infp, 16 years old and female, who has low-self esteem and feels dissatisfied with life.

My main problem is that I've been skipping school for multiple days because I stay up late, worried if I'm missing out on social media or how I'm going to mask myself the next day. I'm constantly chasing after the satisfaction of completing personal projects online. The 'high' of it and validation from social media is what attaches me to it. Only sharing art I'm proud of. Only sharing idealized surface level tidbits about myself to my classmates. I'm basically pretending to be someone I'm not both online and offline, and so I dig myself into a hole of preventing myself from relaxing or experimenting with my self-expression. I want to grow and learn to be myself, but I'm afraid of feeling exposed.

I crave meaning in my life instead of chasing after something out of my control. I want to finally feel at ease and sleep for my own health. Maybe there's a healthier way to share my artwork and collaborate with other artists? What guidance or advice would you have? I'd like to learn from your wisdom. Best regards, Anon.

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Wasting mental resources on social media has become a rather widespread problem, so you're not alone. Sharing of yourself in a public forum often means you're socializing in a chaotic and indiscriminate manner, which unfortunately sets you up to live at the mercy of external stimuli. Your social behaviors become more and more automatic as you keep reinforcing the same validating reward patterns over time. Eventually, your attention, energy, time, self-esteem, and self-worth slip out of your hands. It's hard to feel good about yourself once you've crossed the line from enjoyment into powerlessness.

I use terms like "stimuli", "reinforce", and "automatic" for a reason; they come from a particular branch of psychology called behaviorism. Many people still don't know that tech companies spend money on behavioral science, even recruiting psychologists to their projects. Behavioralists approach human behavior as "programmable", in the same vein that Pavlov trained his dogs to salivate at the sound of a bell. Social media companies invented "bells" to make you feel good (engaged), to make you feel bad (reactive), and to keep you running back to them regularly for instant gratification (addicted).

The difference between Pavlov's dog and you is that the dog begins and ends under the control of its owner and thus has no choice but to learn the automatic behavior, whereas you gave up your free will to become an automaton. When your mind has been reduced to such a primitive state of chasing base desires on an endless loop, your intellectual faculties wither from disuse, and your soul eventually feels starved of meaning. Worst case, one becomes a dull and empty shell of a human being.

"I crave meaning in my life instead of chasing after something out of my control." The word "crave" is significant. Humans need a sense of agency and autonomy. Humans need a sense of social belonging. Humans need intimate and loving relationships. Humans need to occupy themselves with meaningful activities. The issue is whether you know the right methods of fulfilling your needs.

Choosing the wrong methods is one major reason people feel that life lacks meaning. When important human needs go unfulfilled for too long, they morph into desperate and seemingly irrational "longings", "desires", and "cravings" that lead people to choose worse and worse methods in a vicious cycle. Just think of how poorly your rational mind works when you get too hungry; food becomes the only thing you can think about and you're liable to grab anything and put it in your mouth without any regard for its nutritional value. The same goes for psychological, social, and spiritual needs.

A need is legitimate, universal to all humans, and must be satisfied in order to live a healthy and fulfilling life. A want is a method of fulfilling a need, but wants are not always legitimate. A want is legitimate if it is a positive and constructive way of obtaining what you need. A want is illegitimate when it leads you to destruction or to harm yourself/others, which, in the end, actually prevents you from obtaining what you need. Skipping school and sabotaging your own future is a good example of destructive behavior. If a want is determined to be illegitimate, then you must find a better method, if you care about your well-being. People who confuse needs and wants often end up chasing the wrong things in life and/or feeling inexplicably unsatisfied whenever they get what they want.

Why have humans proven so easy to manipulate? Because:

many people lack the self-awareness to understand their own needs and wants, and

they were never taught the right methods of fulfilling them.

Companies wanting to profit off you will try to find the most effective way to trigger a sense of privation in you, to bring up an unmet need, and then manufacture a "desire" or "craving" for a product that supposedly meets that need. The more desperate your feeling of privation is, the faster you'll run and the more you'll pay (not just in money) for whatever they're selling.

Therefore, inoculating yourself against such manipulation involves:

improving your self-awareness so that you fully own your needs instead of ceding control of them to others, and

learning healthy methods to attend to your needs so that you aren't easily taken in by harmful quick-fixes or false remedies.

"Maybe there's a healthier way to share my artwork and collaborate with other artists?" This is the right question to ask. If you develop Ne properly, you'll understand that there's almost always a better way of doing things. You don't have to live life always reaching for the stars, but at the very least, you should know to be proactive and seek a better way when the current way is harming you.

Let's examine two needs at play in your situation:

1) The Need for a Healthy Social Life: Why do you think that, in the age of social media, society is grappling with an epidemic of loneliness? When people feel lonely, their desire for social connection grows louder and louder. Suffer loneliness for too long and people start to get desperate and settle for whatever social contact they can get. Social media makes it very easy to get social contact... but it's like eating leftover scraps when you could be feasting on wagyu.

In terms of personal growth, the easy way isn't usually the right way. Sure, subsisting on scraps helps ease the hunger to socialize, but it's no way to live in the long term. For life to feel meaningful and fulfilling, one cannot only survive, one must also flourish. To flourish includes living up to your potential and living your life with purpose.

While there's nothing inherently wrong with having online friends, people who only have online friends tend to report dissatisfaction with social life. The fact of the matter is that online friends should not be used as a substitute for real-life relationships. Online friends should only be used to complement an existing social support network or used as a convenient gateway into a new real-life friendship. Online friendships are simply missing too many key ingredients that are needed for meaningful relationship.

There are tried-and-true ways of: improving friendships, making new friends, and building a strong social support network. E.g. Spend more quality time with old friends but perhaps in new situations that allow you to get to know each other even better. Extend your network by getting to know friends of family or friends of friends. Take a class or join a group of people with similar interests. Get more involved in your local community or volunteer. Take more initiative to organize get-togethers, invite people out, or lead a group activity.

Socializing is a legitimate need, so you should allot time for it. However, time is a finite resource, which means use it wisely. Do you want to spend most of your time collecting scraps online, socializing with undiscerning people and getting less than satisfying results? Or do you want to socialize in a more purposeful way, setting the right goals, targeting the right people, and getting more satisfying results? The choice is yours.

2) The Need for Personal and/or Professional Development: You are using art as a way to develop your potential and perhaps develop a professional skill. Good learning is something that can only happen under the right conditions, so the issue is whether you have set up the right learning conditions for yourself. Is soliciting (at times ignorant) feedback from people who only care about you to the extent that you can entertain them the best way to learn and improve? As long as you feel like you're being rewarded for putting on a show, won't learning always take a back seat to ego?

Would you be better off embedding yourself in a group of art enthusiasts, devotees, and experts who have real-life knowledge and experience of the art world? Unless you live in the middle of nowhere, even the smallest towns have artsy people floating around, perhaps there are a few you don't yet know in your school. Forming close, real-life friendships with them would be more rewarding and also more likely to get you that safe and nurturing environment you need for freely exploring your talents, wouldn't it? It's just one idea. I'm sure you can come up with more ideas through assessing all the resources available to you.

Sixteen is usually the time when teens start really venturing out into the world to explore their options. You need to get out into the world and challenge yourself more in order to grow your self-esteem. Don't limit yourself by becoming overdependent on social media scraps for cheap validation.

Inferior Te means that Fi doms often don't place enough value on goal-oriented behavior, and as a result, their behavior is often inefficient and ineffective. It's fine to want to explore and enjoy some fun moments online, but exploration should eventually be leading you somewhere positive, good, real, and meaningful. And if you already have some idea of where you want to go, the key is to choose the right path for getting there, even if it's the harder path. It sounds like you have a problem of too often choosing the easier path.

If you're like other INFPs, you easily get swept up by your feelings and it causes you to perceive situations in a distorted way, unable to objectively weigh the pros and cons, which leads to miscalculating the consequences of your behavior. If your behavior keeps getting negative consequences, it's an important sign that you're not caring well for yourself - it's a call to change your behavior. Fi can't feel at ease as long as you're acting against your own well-being. It's good that you have some idea about what your needs are and you're trying to respond to them, the crucial step is to put more careful thought into choosing healthy methods.

#infp #auxiliiary ne #inferior te #social media #socializing #needs #ask

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writingonleaves · 10 months ago

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not sure if you’ve addressed this yet or not but how do clem and nico navigate both having busy schedules? also is there anything else you’d like to share because i can never think of questions to ask 😭

omg hey! this is such a great question and one i think about a Lot. it'll definitely be addressed more in part two which will be out .... soon (lol) but here are some of my thoughts about it below! adding a read more bc this will probably be longer than you asked for

i am by no means an expert on med school / residency so i'm basing it off research and some of my friends who are incredible enough to go on the journey to become smart-ass doctors, but that life is Busy for clem, especially because she's technically doing two residencies in one. its not shown much in the first part, but besides being at the hospital and taking classes, clem doesn't really have the energy to do that much besides eat and sleep and occasionally bother jack and luke for shits and giggles lmao

on the other side (during the season at least) nico is, well, a hockey player. his schedule is all out of whack and during his days off, he truly Takes Them Off and usually just lounges around.

when we put them together, it's similar in the fact that they're both so occupied all the time, but then, like you'd imagine, it doesn't overlap much.

tbh, clem's schedule is probably more predictable, despite it being busy. she doesn't really have days off (unless it's after an overnight shift) (which i also could be making up so if any residents are reading this i apologize) but it's more consistent in terms of the times she's home.

so, as these two enter the 2024-2025 season, this time as a couple, it starts with them hanging out on the nights nico doesn't have a game and isn't on the road.

and then from there, it kinda just, works? like ofc they're both busy but they do dedicate one night a week to date night, even if they're just relaxing on the couch together (unless the devils are on a road trip) and clem does try to go to a game when she can to support. usually at least once a month.

but also keep in mind that clem has been around The Hockey Life in one way or another for so long now, so she understands more than most might at the start

logistics aside now, emotionally, as we've (hopefully) seen, clem is pretty independent. she doesn't need to be hearing from nico at all times of the day. if anything, nico is the "clingier" one between them, which is saying a lot because nico is pretty independent too

it takes a bit of trial and error, but they find that honest communication is key, as well as taking the time they do have together to have it be just them (though ofc jack and luke and various other teammates crash, because everyone loves clem, but they find a balance)

it does naturally make things easier that clem lives with jack (and luke) and nico already has a strong friendship with the former (and eventually the latter) so when dates are at the trio's apartment, there's not really much awkwardness or an adjustment period needed.

all in all, it's not easy by any means, and more challenges come up later on which i hope i'll address (being The Captain's girlfriend and getting more involved with the other significant others, the off-season, etc etc) but clem and nico are both mature enough to figure it out, and they love and care about each other enough to want to figure it out, you know?

that was SO long LOL and tbh i might've said a whole lot of nothing but thank you for asking!! these are the kinds of questions i love answering and i hope people like seeing the answers to. writing is great and its lovely, but it can only answer so much without seeming too unnatural, you know?

hmm, idk if i have anything else to add without giving anything away 🙃 maybe that something i've been thinking about a lot is that clementine, for her whole life, has been taking care of others (her mother after her father died, the brothers, her patients etc etc) so it's in her to be nurturing. i think nico is the first person in her life who she lets take care of her. quinn, jack and luke try, and clem tries to let them, but she'll always be their older sister you know? it's different with nico

okay thats enough from me lol. thanks for sending this in anon! i hope you're having a lovely day <3

#sweet anons #k replies #the blue au

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 years ago

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☾ and ★ and ♦ for Beauty! Thank you <3

Thank you for asking about Beauty, Nonny! She's so dear to my heart, and at the moment my only active RP character--and I'm always happy to talk about her.

☾ - sleep headcanon Beauty has been a night owl her whole life...

Which was easy in college because she was usually able to schedule her classes no earlier than 11am. One semester she made the mistake of taking a history class at 8am (because she had enjoyed that professor's class in the past), but when she got cast in Romeo & Juliet (in her dream role), the rehearsals ran until nearly eleven each night--and after, of course, cast & crew traditionally hung out at a local bar (Maggie's) frequented by generations of theatre majors. When the need for better sleep asserted itself--

--and it was too deep in the semester to drop that class--she chose to fail, and took it again the following semester as an afternoon class.

In dating Stephen Strange, she could easily adjust to his proclivity for late nights--but as her job makes her an early riser, she's developed a habit of taking quick power naps on her lunch breaks. Still, there are nights when they are snuggled on the couch together, lights out and watching a movie or a series, that she can't help closing her eyes ('only five minutes!' she tells herself) and nods off because she's not built to burn the candle at both ends.

★ - sad headcanon Alrighty, well...I have two to share; both bittersweet, and one must go under the cut for length of post reasons

When she was a child, the person she loved best in all the world was her maternal grandfather, Gramps. As his only granddaughter, she was his princess, but he never treated her like just a kid. He listened closely to her childish prattlings and always encouraged her imagination. He guided her to become an avid reader by reading works to her above her grade level, every time they were together. Brought her books she might never have sought out for herself, and that fed her romantic nature and her thirst for tales of adventure. She had plenty of friends at school and in the neighborhood, but Beauty always thought of Gramps as her bestest. He passed away suddely when she was twelve; it was her first encounter with losing someone, and it hit her hard. But she took consolation in the piles of books he left behind for her, most of which still occupy the shelves of whatever appartment she lives in as she journeys forward on life's adventure.

And the second, sad, little headcanon has to do with sleep as well...

Naturally, being the significant other of a much in-demand Hero and Protector of Earth has some downsides, but all along, Beauty tried her damndest to roll with them. When you love someone, you make adjustments and try to make their life a bit better even if it means some personal sacrifice. When Stephen is away (more and more and more of late) she can't help but worry, especially when he's out of contact for long stretches. And that eventually affects her ability to fall asleep as her imagination kicks into overdrive. So she discovered a little trick to help. She either wears one of his t-shirts or hoodies to bed, to be wrapped up in his scent, or sleeps with the pillow he uses when he stays over, snuggly in her arms. She focuses on his scent and their happiest memories, and in time she calms enough to finds herself drifting off.

It's worked for a while, now--but he's been either gone so long or been too distant when they are together, that the scent on his pillow has faded away to nearly nothing.

((don't look at me that way, you did ask for sad))

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

When something is really, really funny, Beauty can't help that she snorts when she laughs.

Sometimes she's kind of clumsy, which most of her boyfriends have found endearing. Though she is extra careful at work to appear the complete professional, recalling an incident early on in her career where she accidentally got her skirt tucked in her pantyhose in the loo one day, and gave a half a library tour to a group of tourists before she realized she was a mess.

Beauty loves to bake primarily, but she's also a great cook, thanks to the fact that she had five older brothers and took it upon herself to help out her mother in the kitchen even before she started kindergarten. Baking & cooking for someone are key elements in her language of love.

Even though she couldn't make theatre her career, she still stays active in whatever way she can, most often now by organizing little plays for her reading groups to perform for parents & friends, based on the materials they are reading. And she's felt blessed when her little ones have gone on to middle school and come back to invite her to the plays they do, often telling her they would never have had the courage to try out if it hadn't been for the fun of the plays she did with them.

Beauty's a sucker for good, old-fashioned romantic comedies, either plays or movies, and loves the modern adaptations of Shakespeare's comedies in movies such as 10 Things I Hate About You.

Anon, please know that I'm truly grateful for the chance to write about my sweet Beauty. I miss writing her terribly, and this did my heart much good!💗

HEADCANON MEME

#Ask games #kind Nonny #my writing #OFC #original female character #Beauty Lincoln #originally created for roleplay with doctorstrangeaskblog

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americanarchived · 7 years ago

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I've been gone like 500 years but all I care about is Henry and that damn cookieduster. Rip me.

#also mY GOD were so close to justice league #I'm having a mini meltdown #so close yet so faaaaar #ALSO STRANGER THINGS 2 #AND THOR #and I need to go see kingsman and blade runner and what else something else came out that I need to see #the last movie I've seen was IT like 4 times lmfso #okay #yeah #hi hello!!#work and school and sleep and significant other has been occupying my life #it's been so loooong #I miss you guys so much #[ ☀️ ; OOC ].

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keigoslovebird · 4 years ago

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Next Chapter

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball.

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins.

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end.

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

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It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you.

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.”

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms.

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball.

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi.

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject.

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed.

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose.

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for.

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy.

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay.

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is.

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp.

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?”

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him.

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest.

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly.

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit.

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place.

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is. Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure.

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles.

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else.

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body.

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.”

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.”

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue.

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight.

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts.

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom.

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him.

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?”

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames.

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home.

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime.

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband.

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug.

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.”

Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep.

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in.

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.”

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep.

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist.

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together.

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #hq smut #hq fanfic #reader insert #hq reader insert #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #bunny scribbles

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disasterfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

This is Your Home Now ~ The Ryders x teen!reader imagine

@atjafshelby requested: “Okay so I was thinking maybe a teenage reader who was like Judd as a child, gets in trouble and needs help and stuff. But maybe she lives on her own so Grace and Judd take her in and try to help her? No rush though, thank you!!❤️”

A/N: I appreciate you sending me a complex ask. I’ll be honest, I had no idea how i was going to write this one when I first saw it. I tweaked it a tiny bit, and instead of being on their own the reader is in a group home. This may be part 1 if anyone is interested in part 2?

TW: foster care, mentions of violence, mentions of therapy.

Your POV:

Sitting in the principal’s office, you began to take in the various lame quotes around the room. “You miss 100% of the chances you don’t take” sure, whatever.

“You have to look through the rain to see the rainbow” this has to be the worst one of all. What rainbow? and why go through hell to be able to see a prism of light in the sky?

The door shuts loudly, pulling you from your thoughts. You roll your eyes when you see your social worker walking in with the principal.

“So, Y/N, you’ve been getting into more fights recently, including earlier today when you struck another student in the face for saying something about your family,” your principal read from the file, then looked up at you, “Anything you’d like to say for yourself?”

”yeah, they deserved it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him again. Everyone here should know by now the topic of your parents is off limits, especially what he said about them.

“Just because someone says something you don’t like doesn’t mean you can assault them.” Your social worker scolded, probably hating her life for having to deal with you.

They went on lecturing you for another 20 minutes, but at that point you zoned out, focusing on the view out the window behind your principal. It was sunny outside, the trees on the outskirts of school grounds blowing slightly with the wind. You could see people walking out there, and instantly wanted to be anywhere but here, supposedly listening to how you’re a screw-up and if you “don’t get your act together” you’ll “never have a future.”

“Y/n, what do you think about the compromise?”

You snapped your head to the principal, trying to figure out what all you missed in the last few minutes so you could figure out to answer appropriately. You studied his face, before deciding agreeing would be the quickest road. How wrong you were, you wouldn’t have the faintest idea until an hour later.

“Sounds good to me, as long as I can go back to class. Ms. Neal is teaching about the wage gap and I want to see conservative boys lose their ever-loving mind.” you smiled, hoping they buy it for now. They both nod their heads, then you stand up to leave.

“I’ll see you after school, Y/N,” your social worker spoke confidently, seemingly proud of herself for her part in the supposed compromise. With that, you left the two adults to work out the details amongst themselves.

Going to Ms. Neal’s class quickly, you started to wonder what you agreed to. It had to be something significant if you weren’t getting in trouble for giving the star of the baseball team a black eye, which he deserved, by the way.

Class went by as a blur, your attention focusing in and out on class, except when it came time to debate your stance on the issue of the class. You loved to argue, especially with privileged, snotty teens who don’t know how well they had it. You were good at it too, you could be a lawyer if you had any shot of a successful life.

Sooner than you’d like, class was over, and you started to get up and leave. You were too occupied with making sure you had everything that you didn’t realize you were making a beeline into your social worker.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, watch it!” You both say simultaneously, backing up and looking at who ran into you.

“Oh, there you are Y/N! Come on, I’m driving you back to the home to pack up your things” She signaled with her hand to come with her, and you obliged, confused.

“Pack my things? Why?” You asked while walking to your car. You know you’ve been in trouble recently, but being kicked out of the group home seemed a little extreme.

“Did you listen to the compromise at all when were talking about it? Before you agreed to it?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not really, just figured agreeing would get me in the least trouble,” you replied, and you could see her smile a little as she shook her head at you.

“This last fight isn’t going on your permanent record, as long as you get anger management classes, and move out of the group home and into a foster situation with two loving people who know how to handle situations like yours,”

“Crap, I really should listen more.” You sighed and leaned your head on the window. You didn’t see how moving you out of the group home would help at all, it’s more change and more adjustment, and you were tired of both.

“Want to know about the couple?” You social worker asked you, but you barely heard her. You shook your head and put a headphone in, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.

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Judd’s POV:

“Are we sure about this, Gracie?” Judd asks, pacing between the living room and the kitchen, pausing every now and then to look at his wife. He stopped, turned to her, and rubbed his face before putting both hands behind his head, cradling it as he thinks about everything that could go wrong with this.

He knew they both wanted kids, and adoption seemed to be their only hope due to ther infertility troubles. But still, he argued to himself, a teenager? With this kid’s anger management issues, stubbornness, and troubled past, this isn’t what he necessarily had in mind.

“Yes, Judd, we’re sure. This kid needs our help, and a stable home to thrive. I understand you’re nervous, I am too, but we’ve been doing our research and interviewing with child protective services for months, and now they’re gracing us with a child that needs us.” Grace had walked over to him at this point, and taken his hands into hers. He looked into those beautiful, rust colored eyes of hers and took a deep breath. He knew she was right, she usually is, but he was still nervous.

He wrapped his arms around her, leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “I love you,” he whispered. She looked up at him, grabbed the nape of his neck, and kissed him lovingly. After a few seconds, she broke away, and whispered, “I love you too, handsome.”

Before anything could further along, the doorbell rang. The two looked at each other, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. Grace opened the door, and they both saw the social worker, Malia, with a teenager that looked less than happy to be on their doorstep.

Judd quickly scanned the teen, noticing the frown on their face and the bruised knuckles they were sporting on their right hand. They had a suitcase in the other hand, and looked short in stature. Everyone looks short to Judd, though.

“Hi Malia, Y/N, please come in.” Grace states, welcoming their guest and their now-forster child into their home. Once the social worker guided Y/N in, the pair sat on the couch while Judd and Grace sat on the other, clasping their hands together and looking at the child who’ll be staying with them, being nurtured by them, for next couple years.

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Your POV:

The house is nice, you thought to yourself as you sit on the couch, waiting for someone to speak to you. You look at them, whose names you aren’t aware of yet, and study their features. The man was tall, and you can tell he’s been working for a while due to his build and the scratches and burns on his hands. The woman is much smaller, and seems softer, but you can tell they love each other just by the way they can’t keep their hands off each other.

“Judd, Grace, this is Y/N. Now, I know the department have given you their file, but do you have any questions about their history, or anything I can answer?” Malia asked, putting her hands in her lap. At least you know their names now, you thought to yourself.

“I don’t think so, ma’am. You’re welcome to stay for supper, though. Y?N, is there any allergies or diet restrictions we need to know about?” The woman, Grace, you remind yourself, asks. She smiles at you as she asks, and she has a pretty smile. You start to wonder why they wanted to take in someone like you.

“No ma’am, thank you for asking though. Can one of y’all show me to my room, though? I’d like to unpack and start on homework before supper.” You try to be polite, not knowing who they are once the social worker. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

“Of course, I’ll show you up there, and let you get settled.” Judd offers, standing up to guide you to where you’ll sleep.

You go up the stairs, and are impressed by what you see. This is better than the group home, at the very least. You head down the corridor he’s taking you through, and walk into a moderately sized room that had a full-sized bed, two nightstands, a dresser, closet, desk with a chair, and a door to what you assume is a bathroom.

“Take all the time you need to settle in. This weekend we’ll all go shopping and you can buy decorations for your room. Once supper is ready, we’ll call you downstairs to eat, get to know each other better. Alright?” He asked, looking as if he expected you to answer. You quickly nodded, and got to putting away your things and taking in the space. Maybe you actually belong here.

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Once supper was ready, you were called down, you stumbled down the kitchen, washed your hands, and then took a seat at the table. Malia had left, hopefully to bother another kid and leave you alone, and you sat there quietly, eating the dinner they prepared.

“So, Y/N, is there any hobbies you enjoy? Anything we can look into getting you, like an easel or a video game?” Grace asks, making conversation.

“Why do you care? It’s not like I’m your kid,” You rolled your eyes, then looked down and played with your food. You wouldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of having people truly care about you, especially not now.

“Hey, you-” Judd started to raise his voice, but Grace cut him off with holding her index finger up to him, then spoke.

“Y/N, I know this is all too new for you still. You don’t know us, you do not know our intentions, and you’re past makes it especially hard for you to believe anyone would love you and care for you. But, and I mean this, this is your home now, Y/N, and we will not abandon you, no matter the obstacles ahead,” she paused, and looked to her husband. Judd nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I was just like you when I was your age. I was going through somethin’, and it left me violent and not knowing who to trust. We want you here so we can help you through the hurt you’ve been through, and make you into the young adult we can already see inside you. We have two rules, don’t disrespect us, and be honest with us. Got it?”

“Got it,” you spoke quietly. The rest of the dinner was quiet, and afterwards you went upstairs to your room, lying on the bed, thinking about how this is going to be good for you. Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

#grace ryder x judd ryder #judd ryder #grace ryder #teen!reader #reader insert #writing #9-1-1 lone star #911 lone star #the ryders x teen!reader #grace x judd #apologies if this is god awful

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maddiewritesstucky · 4 years ago

Text

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60 for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway.

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea.

"Steve,” he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to.

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night.

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning.

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of home and family and right.

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter.

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’ with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off.

...Steve’s not here to actually see this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve.

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam.

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get.

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour.

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted.

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better.

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away.

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb.

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on.

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell.

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time.

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off.

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream.

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah - there’s a lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.”

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together.

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...”

“Mm?”

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him.

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been.

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way.

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it.

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up.

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head.

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.”

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?”

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick.

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift.

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D! to oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.” Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.”

Oh.

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway.

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures.

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?”

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours.

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins.

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.”

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings.

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close. So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.”

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.”

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose.

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall.

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.”

“Oh my god.”

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later.

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly.

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips.

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to.

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...”

“Fuck, Bucky, I...oh...”

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him.

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him.

“You said it, pal.”

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach.

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to Steve. It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath.

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair.

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.”

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose! ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.”

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time.

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.”

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?”

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him.

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

#stucky fanfic #stucky au #steve/bucky #stripper!bucky #architect!steve #pwp #sexy shower antics #Post-run Steve can get it

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spookysweet-heart · 4 years ago

Text

Reshape The Past

Request: No

Fandom: Battle Egos

Parings: Battle Egos x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of Death

A/N: This is Part Two! Part One can be found here! This is gonna be a Julie and The Phantoms AU, with the Holloway Sisters and Battle Boys! I hope you like it! The songs featured throughout the series are by their respective bands and artists, I’ll link each song that’s featured so you all can listen along. Each song I chose has significance to the story, so I hope you pay attention to them! The collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle23

The girls looked at each other before they turned their attention to the drum set.

“Who’s going to play the drums….” Raven spoke softly, walking towards them placing a gentle hand on one of the drums.

Marie glanced at the drums before looking back down at her notebook, feeling unsure.

Anne bit her lip nervously while clenching and unclenching her fists. “I-” Taking a deep breath in and out, she let her nerves slip away. “I’ll do it. This song doesn’t need a keyboardist anyway. I know her parts.”

Marie took Anne’s hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Are you sure?”

“Positive!” Anne smiled at her sisters as Raven walked towards her with Natalie’s drumsticks.

“Our little sunshine, still brightening up the place even if we’re dead.” She playfully ruffled Anne’s hair, making her giggle.

“It’s settled, then! Let’s go get (Y/n)!” Marie was the first one to disappear with the other two following along.

Sitting at the kitchen table, you took a sip of your coffee and scrolled through your phone, seeing the pictures your mom posted of her and your younger siblings in her new house. Looking up from your phone, you saw the three women staring at you sitting at the table.

“Jesus fucking Christ! How long have you three been here?!”

“Just got here, actually. Had breakfast yet?” Anne sweetly smiled and looked around, noticing a bowl by the sink.

“Just some cereal. Why? Did you want something to eat?”

“We can’t eat.”

“Or sleep.”

“Or pick up anything that isn’t ours.”

“What?” You looked at them a little confused.

Raven excitedly looked at you, grinning. “So last night we figured out we can pick up and play our instruments!”

“We wanna know if it’s okay if we show you a song we wrote?” Marie slid her notebook to you.

Taking the notebook, you looked through the pink and black colored pages. Reading the lyrics for a few seconds, you looked back at them, nodding. “Sure, why not. I should still have time before I have to get to class.” Sliding the book back, you stood up, putting the mug in the sink, and followed them out to the studio.

Raven pulled out a chair for you to sit on in front of them.

“Are you ready?” Anne asked you after she got comfortable behind the drums.

“Ready when you guys are. What’s the song called again?”

Raven smiled, adjusting her mic. “Candy Coated Lies!”

Marie grinned, adjusting the strap of the guitar. Counting down silently from three with her fingers, the group began to play.

Marie started feeling the excitement run through her when she started to sing. “Just about done livin' this life. Look at my face when you're talking to me, talking to me. Brought a blunt knife to a gunfight. Words and phrases lock me in cages. I'm taking my time if it's alright. Hold the world up but it's weighing on me, weighing on me. Watch it all fall from a great height. All these rats that are running races.”

Raven took over the pre-chorus. “Stay away, you push me to the edge. I need a tidal wave to drown out all the pain in me” She looked over at Marie when she joined her for the chorus.

“Just about to break, I can't stand the taste of Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Every day, the same, driving me insane. Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies.”

Anne focused as much as she could on playing the drums. It felt a little off at first, but she started to feel free with each passing beat. Raven and Marie glanced back at her when she took over the vocals. “You're killin' my vibe for the last time. Vultures up high started preying on me, preying on me. Take a step back to the broadside, 'cause I'm not as brave as I'm letting on to be. Losing my breath but I'm alive. Should have spent more time fighting for me, fighting for me. Making my way to the bright side. Is there paradise?”

The other two join in, the three of them singing the chorus. “Just about to break, I can't stand the taste of Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Every day, the same, driving me insane. Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies.”

Raven took the lead for a moment to let Marie catch her breath a little longer. “Talons digging deep down inside of me. Holding this absentee, guilty, and desperately.”

Marie closed her eyes for a second and smiled when she opened them again, seeing you look at them in awe. Giving this last round her all, you saw her grow more and more passionate about asking you to join their band. “Just about to break, I can't stand the taste of Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Every day, the same, driving me insane. Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Just about to break, I can't stand the taste of Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Every day, the same, driving me insane. Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. Stay away, you push me to the edge. Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies. I need a tidal wave, to drown out all the pain in these, Candy-coated lies, these candy-coated lies.”

Anne dropped the drumsticks, shaking her fingers to loosen them up. Raven took off the strap of her bass and carefully put it back in its place. Marie breathed a bit heavily, but her smile never faded. “So? What’d ya think?”

Smiling, you stood up, clapping for them. “That was amazing! But is Anne okay?”

“I’m fine! Not used to playing drums is all!” She lightly waved her hand, dismissing your concern. “All good!”

Raven walked towards you with a small smile on her face. “This isn’t everything, to be honest.”

Marie gestured to the logo on the drum set. “We want you to be a part of our band!”

“(Y/n)?? Hey! Are you here?!” A voice from the other side of the door caught you four off guard.

“Oh shit! No, I forgot my friend was coming over today to help unpack…” You looked around frantically before Raven got your attention.

“Hey, we’re ghosts, remember? They probably won’t be able to see us.”

“R-right…” Turning your attention to the door, you made your way to it, opening it. “Erica!! Hey!”

“Hey, yourself! I was looking for you everywhere and when I made my way back here, I heard music coming from inside.”

The girls looked at each other with wide eyes and smiles when they realized what she said.

Erica looked around, seeing the stereo was on. “So you were just listening to music, then?”

“Yup!”

“Seriously, you of all people need to sign up for the talent show this weekend! Your name alone could get you a deal.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That’s exactly what I don’t want. If I want a deal with a label, I want it for my talent, not the name.”

“You never want an easy way in.”

“Nope! It takes the fun out of everything. You know I wanna work on this.”

“I’m just saying, the opportunity is there. You should take it.”

“Don’t think so. C’mon, I’ll buy you breakfast on the way to school.” Quickly waving to the girls, you closed the door behind you, leaving them alone.

Anne took a seat on the couch with Marie getting her acoustic guitar. “This is gonna be great! That girl heard us!”

“Yeah, but she can’t see us.” Raven crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at them.

“Yeah...but it’s a start. We just need (Y/n) to agree to join the band and we sign up with her for that talent show. She can maybe play it off like she recorded all the instruments while we actually play.”

Raven only shook her head. “That sounds ridiculous...but I guess anything is possible now.”

Anne looked up at Raven a little concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah...kinda. I’m just feeling overwhelmed...I think I’m gonna go for a walk or something..”

“Do you want one of us to go with you?” Marie asked while putting down the guitar.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just be a while. I’ll be back later.” Raven disappeared, leaving a red mist behind.

Walking with her hands loosely behind her back, Raven looked around the huge park, seeing children playing, running around, and giggling while their parents watched over them.

Everything seemed normal for a moment, she felt like things were okay...till someone phased right through her and she felt like reality punched her in the face again. Raven was a little dizzy, not used to people just going right through her.

Before she knew what was happening, she was on the ground with slight pain on her forehead. “Hey watch where the fuck-” Raven blinked, trying to understand what happened.

The other woman who bumped into her frantically stood up, lending Raven a hand. “I am so so sorry! I thought I’d phase right through you. I thought you were alive!”

Raven took her hand, letting the other ghost help her up. “You crashed into me...wait you thought I was alive? Does that mean you’re...dead, too?”

The woman gave her a nod, still holding her hand. “Yeah. been dead for a while. I’m Lexi, by the way.” Looking down, still seeing their hands touching, Lexi quickly took hers back, feeling a little embarrassed. “I- I’m sorry again, uh but can I ask you something?”

“I’m Raven, and uh sure I guess…”

“Are you new to the whole dead thing?” Lexi adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

“What gave it away?” Raven playfully rolled her eyes at the question, giving Lexi a smile to reassure her she wasn’t being mean.

“Everything, honestly.” Lexi smiled back. “You look like something’s troubling you. Wanna talk about it?”

“Are you sure you have time to listen to me?”

“Pretty sure I have some time before I meet up with a friend.” Lexi led the way to the other side of the park where no one was occupying any of the benches.

After a while of listening to Raven, Lexi nodded and looked over at her. “So now you guys don’t know where your other sister is, and this girl. (Y/n)?”

“Yeah.”

“She can see you guys. And she’s living in your old house, and you’re sure she’s alive?”

“Also her old house, and yes, we’re sure.” Raven got quiet for a second.

“Have you tried finding what your unfinished business is?”

“My what?”

“Your unfinished business, like what you wanted to do before you died but never got the chance to.”

Raven thought for a second but shook her head. “I can’t think of anything at the moment. It’s all too much. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re new, so it’s not gonna come right away. Some of us never really find it.”

“What about you? How’d you die?” Raven looked at Lexi before immediately covering her mouth with her hand. “I- I mean you don’t have to tell me, it’s fine. I’m sorry if that’s too personal for you.”

Lexi giggled and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. You told me your story. It’s only fair that I share mine. I died with my best friend. Her name’s Kimberly and we were inseparable in life, so it made sense even after death we’d still be with each other. We’d joke about that kinda thing, so when it happened we freaked out. We were walking home from getting dinner one night since the place was just a block away from our apartment. We didn’t see it coming at all. Someone was being robbed and we got caught in the crossfire. We got shot cause the person who was running away wasn’t looking where they were shooting.”

Raven took Lexi’s hand in hers, squeezing it. “I’m so sorry, oh my god, that’s horrible.”

Lexi smiled softly. “It’s alright. What’s done is done, right?”

“Lexi!!! Dude we’re gonna be late!” Someone shouted from across the field, waving and trying to get Lexi’s attention.

“Is that your friend?” Raven let go of her hand, feeling a little disappointed.

“Ah yeah, that’s her. I gotta go, but I’ll see you around, Raven.” Lexi stood up, stretching her arms a bit.

“Uh, w-would it be alright if we meet up tomorrow?” Raven quickly stood up, looking down at Lexi, hoping she’d say yes.

“Tomorrow? I should be able to meet up for sure. When and where?”

“Tomorrow morning, here? If that’s okay.”

“That’s completely fine. See ya then!” Lexi disappeared for a second. When Raven looked up, she saw her across the field.

“Who was that?” Kimberly grins over at Lexi, curious to know of a possible new friend.

“Newly dead, her name’s Raven..”

“Pretty name. Just her?”

Lexi shakes her head. “She has two sisters, she was just feeling lost.”

“I remember that feeling…”

“Yeah...So it’s almost showtime for you isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but you know I get worried…”

“I’m not passing through or whatever. Besides, why would I ever miss a friend's show? You know I can’t.” Lexi smiled as they both disappeared.

Standing in front of the red velvet rope, they showed the guard their IDs. Being let in, they walked through the huge lobby, making their way to the staircase leading downstairs.

“There she is!”

“Here I am! What’s up Bones?” Kimberly gave him her best puppy eyes she could.

“Nope, not gonna work this time. We have ten minutes till curtains up and you were almost a no show.”

“Chill, I was out for a walk. I needed to clear my head a bit. I’m sorry.”

“Change, please.” Bones pointed to the costume on the rack.

With a snap of her fingers, she changed into the costume her boss designed. “Done.”

“There you two are! Has the boss seen you yet?” Natpai almost rushed into the group.

“Not yet. Is he mad?” Lexi asked, but a shiver ran down her spine when she felt someone standing behind her. Turning around, she saw the owner of the club.

“Mad? No. Irritated? Definitely…”

“Phantom! I- I mean sir it was my fault. I went out for a walk, and we lost track of time! It won’t happen again.”

Phantom’s eyes glow a bright red for a moment before calming down. “Of course it won’t. You wanna know why?”

They all stayed silent, not daring to say a word.

“I OWN YOU. I GAVE YOU THIS FREEDOM AND I CAN TAKE IT AWAY!”

“Y-yes, sir…”

Adjusting his tie, Phantom’s demeanor became softer. “Now, Mare’s waiting for you three on stage. Bones, Natpai, you two go on ahead.”

The two brothers nodded and gathered their things, rushing off to their places.

Phantom smiled down at the two women in front of him. “My girls,” Placing his hands on their cheeks, he gently stroked his thumb against them. “What were you two up to? You know I keep tabs on you both.” Taking his hands back he looks between the women staring at him. “I know you met someone new. Care to share anything about that?”

“Uh, um, I- I bumped into her. She’s newly dead…” Lexi looked down at her shoes, feeling intimidated.

“Go on, sweetheart, what else?”

“She also has sisters with her....that’s all I know, sir. We only talked for a few minutes.”

“Interesting. Well, they're newly dead and they seem like ordinary ghosts. I see no reason to invite them here, yet.”

Both Kimberly and Lexi looked up at Phantom. “Invite them?”

“To see a show, of course! Isn’t that what we do here?! We put on shows not just for the living but the dead must also have a place to come and relax.” Phantom looked at his watch. “And look at that, you’re up. You, get to the stage. The band needs a singer, don't they?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you, they need their stage manager backstage, don’t they? Get to it!”

“Yes, sir!” Both women go their separate ways, leaving Phantom to walk over to the balcony overlooking the entertainment room. The orb on his cane glowed a dim red.

“We’ll keep an eye on those new ghosts. They might be of use…”

Back at the house, Raven popped back in to see Anne looking through their things and Marie sitting on the floor hunched over her notebook, looking frustrated. “What’s up with you?”

“Remember the song we were working on? I’ve been trying to finish it, but I can’t figure out the chorus.” Marie frowned, not liking what she wrote.

Raven sat next to her and took the notebook, reading over the lyrics. “Take your jacket out my car, out my car. So I can forget who you are, who you are. Fall forward, fading through catastrophe-feeling.”

“That’s where I just blank out…”

Raven looked over at Anne. “Have you tried to help?”

“Yup, I couldn’t think of anything either, so I decided to see what else of ours is in this bag.” Pulling out a red cap, Anne tried it on.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Raven pouted, standing up and dropping the notebook back on the ground next to Marie.

“Guys, don’t make a mess here, we share the space, remember!” Marie raised her voice a little, feeling annoyed.

“Hey…are you guys still here?” You poked your head in to see an annoyed-looking Marie while Raven and Anne had a tug of war with a red cap. “I see I’m interrupting something.”

Anne let go of the cap and smiled, making Raven stumble. “You’re not!”

Raven glared at Anne, dusting off the cap so she could put it on.

“I’m glad I’m not.” Stepping inside, you closed the door and took a seat on the couch, feeling grateful for not being on your feet for once today.

“Is something wrong?” Anne looked at you concerned.

“Hm? Oh! No, nothing's wrong, just tired from classes and unpacking so much today.”

“That’s understandable. I’m sorry you have a lot on your plate at the moment.” Anne resisted the urge to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“It’s fine. Um, but I do have one thing I wanna get off my to-do list.”

“What is it?” Raven asked as she took a seat in one of the empty chairs.

“I thought about your offer. About joining the band.” All three girls instantly looked at you, hope shining in their eyes. “It took me all day to think about not just joining, but also about signing up for the talent show. It’s a huge thing the college does 'cause it’s not just a talent show. They call it that to make it simpler, but it’s just multiple shows to see who record labels are looking for.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, honestly.” Marie smiled, sitting up and leaning back against the coffee table.

“It is! Um, but it’s also a lot of work too. Despite that, I think I’m ready to get back into music and sign up for this thing with you guys as a band!”

“Really?!” They immediately said it at the same time, making you giggle and nod.

“Yeah! I think it’ll be a good new path for the future. Ya know, kinda like reshaping the past in a way for myself.”

Marie grinned and quickly grabbed her notebook. “(Y/n), You’re a genius!!!”

“Huh?“ Looking at the other two confused, Raven smiled softly.

“You just helped Marie finish the chorus of a song we were working on.”

“Oh! Can I see it? If that’s okay.”

“Of course!” Marie happily handed you the notebook, excited to hear what you thought of it.

Taking your time to read through it, you nodded your head while tapping your foot against the floor. “Well, we have the lyrics. I think I have an Idea for music.”

Raven went silent for a moment before she spoke up. “I met someone today while I was on my walk.”

The three of you looked at her curiously. “Who’d you meet?”

“I, uh, met this girl. Her name’s Lexi. She’s also dead like us. She’s really nice, and she helped me out with some things I had difficulty understanding about us being ghosts now.”

“You should invite her to the show!” Anne got excited, bouncing in her chair.

“She’d be the only one to actually see us on stage with (Y/n). I don’t think it would be a problem.” Marie smiled at Raven, playfully poking her cheek. ”You should definitely invite her.”

“Well not just her. Would you be fine if her friend tags along, too?”

Anne giggled, feeling her excitement bubble even more. “Oooo! Another ghost! We can make two new friends now!”

“I think that’d be sweet if you invited them.” You smiled at Raven while handing Marie her notebook back. “I also think I’m going to bed. I’ll see you three bright and early to start working on this song!” Stretching as you stood up, you waved goodbye to them when you started to leave the studio. “Night everyone!”

During the week, you spent most of your free time with the girls working on the song. You taught Anne how to use the soundboard when she played the keyboard. It took the first two days to agree on the drum sounds you’d use, but it worked out in the end. You, Marie, and Raven figured out who would sing what parts of the songs, both girls agreed you’d take the lead for the majority of it while they took backup instead.

The morning of the performance, the four of you looked through your wardrobe to see what you could wear. You settled on an old band shirt, ripped jeans, and a black jean jacket. It was casual, but still fit the mood of the song. The big factor was that you felt comfortable in it and could move around.

“So this is the place?” Lexi looked around the outdoor theatre area, amazed that it was as huge as it was.

“Looks like it...oh! Is that the girl that can see them?” Kimberly looked in your direction, but you didn’t notice since you were setting up the keyboard and soundboard almost off stage.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Lexi smiled when she spotted Raven helping you.

“Why don’t you ask her out?” Kimberly tilted her head, asking genuinely.

“I- it’s not like that, dude. We’re just friends...”

“Right, just friends. That can change, you know.”

“Shut up. You’re a dork.” Lexi’s cheeks started to turn light pink, feeling a little embarrassed.

“I’m your dork and you’re stuck with me!” Kimberly laughed when she saw Lexi pout.

“Alright, alright. Settle down, everyone. I believe our next act is ready to begin.” The host of the show looked over at you.

Nervously, you whispered to Marie. “I don’t think I can go through with this after all…”

“You got this, (Y/n), we wouldn't have asked you to do this if we didn't think you were perfect for the part. We’ll be here, just look over at us when you need support, alright? You’re not alone in this.” Marie gave an encouraging smile before you were led out to the stage.

Adjusting the mic to be a bit lower, you looked out into the audience and felt your nerves almost wash away when you saw your friend Erica in the front row, smiling and giving you a thumbs up. “Um, hey, everyone. I hope you guys are enjoying yourselves so far. The song I’ll be performing is called Take Your Jacket. Thank you for listening, and I hope you enjoy it.”

Pressing the button on the soundboard, the music went out through the speakers. Taking a deep breath in, you picked up the mic and started the song.

“You want your song? Well, here's an anthem. You broke my heart and held all of my past to ransom. Well, get a grip. You're not that special. Trying to slip around the demons that you wrestle. Don't get me wrong, I'm trying my hardest. Don't get me wrong, but sometimes the smart ain't strong.”

You were about to look over at the girls, but before you or anyone could prepare themselves, they suddenly appeared on stage, playing their instruments and joining you on the chorus. “Take your jacket out my car, out my car. So I can forget who you are, who you are. Fall forward, fading through catastrophe-feeling. Like the storm will never pass. Break the mold, reshape the past.”

Taking the lead again, you danced over to Marie, singing the next part to her. “Came from beneath and knocked me over. Rotting my teeth, you're sickly sweet like cherry cola.” Continuing to sing, you turned your attention back to the crowd. “No, not this time, no, you won't fool me. Your childish tricks are in the past, I can guarantee. Don't get me wrong, I'm trying my hardest, Don't get me wrong, But being the smartest ain't too clever.”

Raven and Marie joined in on the chorus, jumping and dancing in place. “Take your jacket out my car, out my car. So I can forget who you are, who you are. Fall forward, fading through catastrophe-feeling. Like the storm will never pass. Break the mold, reshape the past.”

You started to dance around on stage with the girls as they played their instrumental parts. It’s then that you all realized the crowd was cheering at all of you. The girls' smiles widened, looking at you and realizing the audience could see them!

Smiling and feeling excited, you took center stage, ready to finish the song on a great note. “Take your jacket out my car, out my car. So I can forget who you are, who you are. Fall forward, fading through catastrophe-feeling. Like the storm will never pass. The hole you left is sore at best. We know this wouldn't last, reshape the past.”

Hearing the crowd cheer for you all was a feeling you never thought you’d hear again. Looking around at the girls, they smiled at you before they disappeared, leaving a white mist behind. The audience's cheers slowly faded, wondering what happened to the band.

Quickly thinking, you started to explain what just happened. “Uh thank you all for enjoying our performance! We’re The Hex Girls! Hologram band all ran by me, (Y/n) (L/n).” Taking a bow, you left the mic on the stand and ran off stage where Erica was waiting.

“A hologram band?! Seriously?” She crossed her arms over her chest

“What?” You look at her genuinely confused.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? (Y/n)? I thought we said no more secrets after what happened with your dad…”

“I….I know I’m sorry but this was super last minute. Please You have to understand-”

“Yeah, understand that my best friend since Elementary School decides to keep it a secret that she joins and makes a band, let alone signs up for this show without telling me either when I was the one encouraging you to do it in the first place?!”

“I’m sorry, seriously! I just wanted it to be a surprise…”

“Sure is a surprise...that you don’t trust me to help with this. You know I don’t like when you put everything on yourself.” Erica sighed and shook her head. “I’m gonna head home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You asked her, but it felt more like pleading.

“Probably not…” Erica turned to leave, leaving you alone by the door backstage.

“That was amazing! They saw us!” Marie shouted in excitement when she caught up with her sisters and two new friends. “So, which one of you is Lexi?”

“That’s me..” Lexi shyly smiled.

Marie hugged her tightly before letting go. “Thanks for helping out my sister the past week. She talks about you a lot, by the way.”

Raven punched Marie’s arm, slightly embarrassed. “Do not, stop lying.”

Anne giggled and mouthed out, “She does” to Lexi, making her blush even more.

Marie pouted at Raven while rubbing her arm, “Geez, you didn’t have to hit that hard.” Looking over at the other two giggling, she smiled. “And how about you?”

“Me? Oh! I’m Kimberly, it's nice to meet you.” Reaching out her hand, Marie took it in hers and shook her hand before taking it back.

Anne pouted, feeling a bit left out. “Why am I the one left out without a cute girl to talk to?”

Both Lexi and Kimberly blushed while Raven and Marie laughed.

“You’re not being left out, dummy, you’re a part of the group. Stop being a pouty baby, sunshine.” Marie hugged Anne from behind, making her giggle.

From afar, Phantom saw all of them interacting before putting his sunglasses on and making his way back to his car. The soul collector had an idea brewing in his head after seeing that very interesting performance.

Tag List:

@lady-bee-fechin

@forbiddenstars

@wildspeciallavender

@fluffy-demon-wolf

@huffle-princess

#Band AU #jatp AU #Marie Holloway #Anne Holloway #Raven Holloway #Natalie Holloway #battle egos #battle girls #battle ego #battle boys #battle boy #phantom #natmare #natpai #bones #battle babes #Holloway Sisters

12 notes · View notes

propertyofwicked · 5 years ago

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a-z of dating will schofield

(ive kept blake alive bcos im not a monster, and he has sisters rather than daughters :) ) pls request more for me to write i am bored of my half term lol

a- argue

both of you are fairly neutral people, so you rarely have arguments of significance. when you do however, the aftermath can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days - both of you too stubborn to admit your faults so resorting to silent treatment. the periods of silence ended when one of you couldn’t take it anymore, usually him. he would approach you when you were pre-occupied, take you in his arms and whisper an apology. if that didn’t work, he would begin telling bad jokes, refusing to let you go until you cracked even the smallest of smiles.

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

will loves your lips. on the one hand, he loves when your whole face lights up in laughter, or perks up with a smile. he loves seeing your lips curl up into a small grin whenever you see him across the street or when you share a look from across busy rooms. on the other hand, he loves how your lips fit perfectly with his. when you get intimate, he loves how they wrap around him and he loves when they fall open to let out the bliss sound of your moans.

c - care (how you care for each other when you’re sick)

when will is ill, he’ll pretend it’s nothing and continue working himself beyond his ability. it’s almost your job to make sure that when he’s ill, he remains in bed - or at least the house - in order for you to keep an eye on him and make sure he stays hydrated and well fed. when you’re ill, he will stay with you as much as he can. before he has to go to work, he’ll place a glass of water and medication next to your bed and put soup into a pot, ready for you to just heat it up when you needed it. when he comes home, he’ll come straight up to you and wrap you in his arms, peppering your face in kisses. he didn’t care if he too got ill - it just meant more time with you.

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

you and will weren’t a typically outgoing couple, whilst you both came from money and could afford to splash out - neither of you wanted to. you’d rather stay at home, curled up on a sofa, humming along softly to the murmurs of a record playing softly in the background. he’d play with the rings that adorned your fingers whilst he listened to you talk about anything that came to mind. you listened to him talk, sometimes he’d tell stories of his time in the war - maybe he’d recount something he’d seen or something that blake had told him in passing, he did love to tell stories after all. when you did go all out, it was to celebrate anniversaries or birthdays, and even then, it was a dinner and then a walk home, gazing at the stars.

e - engagement (how he proposed)

it was on your 7 year anniversary, sometime in early 1922, and you go to a local restaurant to celebrate. something feels different though. as you walked in holding hands, his became clammy and throughout conversation at dinner, he stumbled over his words and found it hard to stay on one topic for more than 5 minutes at a time. on the walk home he takes you down a different street and says he “just wants to show you something”. without questioning him, you follow him and end up at the bench you first met. it wouldn’t be will, if he hadn’t planned out a long speech that built up to the final question but in his stress manage to forget it and resort to just going on one knee and smiling up at you, “i love you, will you marry me?”

f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)

his family adores you. his younger sisters loved to have someone to talk to and someone to braid their hair whilst their big brother was away at war. whilst he was away, his mother loved to have you other for dinner, desperate to have anything the remind her of her son. his dad and you weren’t massively close but there was an aspect of mutual respect. you had many mutual friends as you grew up in the same area, attending local schools and all of them were obviously delighted to see their two friends happy with each other. your parents adored him too, he was the son they never had whilst also being the best thing to walk into your life.

g - gifts

will loved to shower you in gifts. they were only little but they were something so deeply special to you. it was weekly flowers, that he’d buy on his way back from work, or maybe a punnet of cherries from the green grocers - he was whipped and you were equally.

h - how you met

you met when you were 17 and he was 18 in 1915. your town had been holding a small travelling festival consisting of a circus and fun little game stalls. your friends had insisted you go, as it may be your only chance. they didn’t mention though, that whilst there they would be meeting their boyfriends - leaving you alone, wondering around admiring the lights. in your meandering, you bumped into the dusty blond who stood as good head above you. in doing so, you knocked the toffee apple out of his hand, and insisted on buying him a new one with the the remainder of the 10 bob your dad had given you on the way out. you spent the rest of the evening sat on a bench, talking about the stars that shon above until your friends turned up to take you home.

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down?)

despite his shy outer shell, william schofield was not afraid to show you loving almost every day. can’t sleep? hungry? need to go shopping? this man does not care. if you need anything, he’ll give it to you and god does he know how to work his way around that bedroom.

j - jealousy

your’re both the jealous type, but not the type to make a public show about it. the pent out anger is usually taken out behind doors if you get what i mean ;) when will gets jealous, he makes sure you know by squeezing your hand harder or moving it over to graze the top of your thigh and he’d play with the ends of you hair. you’re more discreet about it, maybe getting a little argumentative with whoever is making you jealous.

k - kinks

william schofield - king of praising. he loves to hear you call out his name as much as he likes to make you. if he could spend all day making you shake, he would.

l - long distance

whilst will was away at war, things got hard. despite only being together 6 months when he left, it was like a piece of you had been torn away, and you spent every day praying for his safe return. but when he did come back on leave, it wasn’t the same as you knew he’d had to leave again and the risk of never seeing him again got more prevalent. sending letters was always hard, often he’d find the small marks where ink had bled from your tears, his heart shutting down to repress his own feelings. his letters went from happy to bland. no emotion, just vague descriptions of his days, his meals - nothing about him and how he was doing. so when the war did finally end and he came back to you, he returned to being the will you had grown to love.

m - moving in

towards the beginning of the war, you had received a letter from will declaring how the moment he came home, he wanted to make a woman out of you. so when the war finally ended 4 years later, and he returned, the first thing you two did was go on the hunt for a smallish house. you opted to move more into the city as the jobs and travel was considerably better. living together was a dream, though you had to adjust to each others bad habits, and being young and living together meant you had the constant questionings as to when you would start a family of your own.

n - nights out

ofcourse, living in closer to the city provided you with better opportunities for nightlife. friday nights were dancing nights. you two, your friends and partners and whichever girl tom picked up that week would all stumble down to the dance hall and spend hours, drunk dancing to the likes of marrison harris, only to return home at early hours and pass out on the living room floor.

o - open with each other

at the start of your relationship, will and you were very open with each other, discussing your boundaries and respecting them as such. you would talk about everything, from friends to family to school. but after the war, will became a closed door - refusing to talk about anything that happened whilst he was away, you respected this but wished he’d open up the slightest, just to be able to connect to him in anyway. after a few months, he became the same man he was before he left, just more mature - a look that really suited him. in his months of silence, you opted to fill this by just talking non stop, anything the provoke a reaction. and you’ll never forget when he had not said a word for 3 days after returning and whispered a quick “i love you” as you fell asleep that night.

p - pda

neither of you were big on over-the-top pda, choosing to just hold hands or accept slight pecks. affection was saved for a private environment around only each other or very close friends. although in crowded areas, will would stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you securely.

q - questions (what you talk about late at night)

it’s 3am, you can’t sleep, so you roll over and stare will in the face until one eye peaks open.

“yeah?” he mumbles sleepily.

“do you love me?”

“mhm”

“no say it”

“i love you, now go to sleep, it’s 3am”

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

you’ve always wanted kids, knowing that you grew up mostly alone as a single child. will had also wanted children until he saw what war could do to a child. he feared that he would be putting a potential son at risk by just simply creating him. it took a lot of convincing to retrieve will from the mindset he had fallen trap to, but he eventually did come around to the idea of having his own little family to protect.

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

he was really bold when you got to know him well enough. on the surface and to people who had not spoken to him, will seemed like a quiet but wise soul. one getting to know him, anyone could realise that he had the sense of humour of a champ and was really outgoing. often, being around tom brought this out in him, challenging to ridiculous games of drunk darts in a dingy pub.

t - together (what you do together)

you just vibe together. sometimes you cook together, other times you sing or you dance along with the wireless - him twirling you around the kitchen was a favourite of his. sometimes you’d read together or to each other and other times you’d go out dancing till early hours of the morning.

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

will and tom were hell to reckon with alone, but when alcohol was thrown into the mix it became a harder battle. you’d opted out of going out one night after a long, tiresome day. this led you to be left to deal with two fully grown men, giggling like school girls in your living room at 2am. will refused to sleep till he had gotten a kiss and tom refused until he was tucked into to bed and sang a nursery rhyme. but quite frankly you wouldn’t have it any other way.

v - vacations

at it was only the 1920′s, you guys tended not to go abroad. instead you travelled the country, hiking in the peak district and swimming in the sea at cornwall.

w - wedding

you had a small wedding service, attended by family and close friends - and it was absolutely perfect. the service was followed by an evening of dancing and drinking alongside the people you loved most.

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

it was almost impossible for a man to return from war unharmed, which left will with a weak left hand from a bad experience with barbed wired and then the carcus of a man. some days, it would get so bad, that he was unable to lift a glass in that hand, and on the days, you’d remind him that you were there to help whenever he needed it. whether that meant giving him medication or ringing a doctor, he was constantly reminded of the love you had for him.

y - you (a random headcannon)

will had left early that morning, saying he’d be home late and not to wait up. you didn’t question it, as often he would travel for his job or go for drinks with tom. for some reason that night you couldn’t sleep without him, so took out his shirt and held it close to you, managing to fall asleep comforted by the smell of him. what a sight that was, for him to walk in a few hours later and find you curled up with his shirt. he had never been more in love with you than at this precise moment.

z - zzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

you’d be in bed first most nights, after bathing away that days dirt. will would emerge at the bedroom door half an hour later, in just a towel, to gaze at you absorbed into a book and oblivious to his presence. he’d put on his pyjamas and climb in next to you, his arm find his way under your back. this way he was able to pull you in and rest your head on his chest. he’d press a kiss to the top of your head, then tilt your chin up to connect your lips together in a sweet kiss.

#1917 #george mackay #dean charles chapman #tom blake #will schofield #will schofield x reader #will schofield imagine #sam mendes #tom blake x reader #tom blake imagine #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #a-z #this is shit im so sorry ahaha

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1213

Have you ever been in weather below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celsius)? Nah. The coldest I’ve experienced was probably something like 10 or 11ºC, when I was in Japan. At the time I still didn’t care too much for traveling and ended up being really underdressed for the weather, so I was extremely uncomfortable the whole time we were roaming around the city. Have you ever been caught outdoors away from shelter during a thunderstorm? LOL yes, notably on the last night of my college internship. My car was parked in another building so I had to walk outdoors, when all of a sudden it fucking poured. I ran to the nearest building for shelter but I was still absolutely drenched and ended up having to call my mom (who works in the same city) to ask her to come pick me up.

What’s your favorite macaron flavor? Chocnut or milk chocolate.

How often do you have friends over to your house? Once in a blue moon. I had my ex over all the time but since then I’ve only had one friend - Angela - come over once.

Have you ever had a boss who acted unprofessionally? I mean, we’re very open with each other with regard to our frustrations at work. That could technically count as unprofessional but I’m honestly just glad we don’t have to be fake around one another and pretend like everything’s dandy.

How many times have you stayed at a hotel in the past year, and where? Just once, for my dad’s birthday. We stayed in Tagaytay for a weekend though we Airbnb’d a condo unit and not a hotel.

Have you ever done a flip on a trampoline? Nah. I could try but I’m too afraid of not being able to support myself and accidentally breaking my neck or something.

What about a flip off of a diving board? Nope.

Are you embarrassed by your school yearbook photos? No. I barely look at them and I’m sure people barely look at yearbooks too.

Who taught you to tie your shoelaces? My grandma.

Currently how many pictures are on your cellphone? 8,067. There used to be around 10,000 but I had a ‘huge’ deleting spree that brought it down to around 6,000 – but clearly I’ve brought it back up again lol.

Do you think dimples are cute? Yes, super.

Would you rather chew fruity or minty gum? It’s whatever. They all lost their taste anyway.

The last time you went to the mall, who did you go with? Just me. That’s usually the case nowadays.

What’s something you used to collect when you were younger? Pogs.

Have you watched a movie today? I haven’t watched a movie since like September.

Aside from your own, whose house did you last set foot into? Angela’s, but it was super brief as I only went in to greet her parents.

Do you love soft pretzels? Yep, that’s how I prefer my pretzels as well.

Who was the last person who cried around you? Why did they start crying? Was it unexpected? I really have no clue. I haven’t been around too many people in such a long time, much less people who’ve cried in front of me. I want to say maybe Gabie???? during one of our last meet-ups. The name feels so foreign now.

Are you more likely to like someone before you really know them, or do you feel you like them more after you know a lot about them? After.

Do you buy people cards on special occasions, or do you prefer to make your own? Giving people cards isn’t much of a tradition here. We’d much rather get you a physical gift altogether.

When was the last time you were being hypocritical? I probably do it without realizing, so I can’t say exactly when.

Where on your body was the last cramp you had? Why did you have this cramp? Fortunately I haven’t had one in a while but I usually get cramps on my neck and shoulders after a whole day at work.

What is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard? My sister went to school with this girl whose name was her surname in reverse.

Do you get embarrassed when people hear you sing/compliment you on your singing ability? If so, why is that? Yeah. I’m not confident in my singing, so I never sing around people and it would embarrass me if I was ever caught/heard.

Are you good at comforting people when they’re upset? I try to be. It works for some people.

Do you have any exercises you do everyday? Nah.

Do you own one of those singing fish? Do you think they are silly or funny? I don’t know what this is referring to.

Has anyone ever accused you of being bipolar or any other mental disorder? Do you really have any mental disorders? No one has accused me; at least not to my face. As for the second question, I’m sure I have one or two; I’ve just never gotten myself professionally checked.

Did you buy the last thing you bought with your own money? If not, whose money did you buy it with? Yabu because I was craving; paid with my own money. It actually feels pretty weird because Yabu had been mine and my ex’s thing, and I haven’t had their food since the breakup. I’m looking forward to having it again tonight and finally changing the narrative for it.

Do you like to put your feet up on the dashboards of cars? Do you parents yell at you if you do that in cars? I don’t like to do it but I’ll sometimes do it if I wanna feel relaxed. No, it wouldn’t bother them too much.

Which Beatle is your favorite, or do you love them all equally? I don’t listen to them.

Do you enjoy classic rock? If so, who are some of your favorite classic rock artists? Not really, but I have nothing against it.

Did you ever own a Tamagotchi? Yep.

Are you more of a dog or cat person? Dog.

Have you ever failed math? Just the advanced courses, like calculus, back in high school. I find math pretty fun and easy if I get the topic and know the formulas; but if I find something hard, it’s very difficult for me to keep up. There’s really no in between haha I either pass with flying colors or absolutely flop.

Skittles! What's your favorite color? Whichever’s not too sour. Idk, I never buy Skittles.

Have you ever had a dream of stabbing someone? Nope but I used to have nightmares of watching my loved ones get shot.

What would you want your last words to be if you could choose them? That I had fun.

Can you sleep with the light on? Only if I’m pissed tired. Otherwise bright lights would bother me.

What’s the most bizarre horror movie you’ve ever seen? I know my answer won’t count as it doesn’t technically fall under horror, but Eraserhead was just very bizarre and unsettling. I’ve never seen the whole film without pausing several times.

What band can’t you stand listening to? Again, this probably won’t count as they’re a boy band/group more than anything, but I cannot stand The Vamps.

Would you ever take a lie detector test for your significant other? Yeah, sure, I guess, for fun. I think those are mostly bullshit anyway so I’ll only take a test with bullshit questions as well.

What is your favorite Mystery/Crime/FBI related show? Those genres never really were my cup of tea.

Would you ever have a bird as a pet? We had two lovebirds some years ago. They were lovely, but idk if we’d do it again. No reason, just that we prefer dogs.

How's your relationship between you and your grandparents? It’s great, even with my maternal grandpa who’s already passed. But I’m well aware of the fact that they’re also a bit wary of me since I’m the most vocal and outspoken of all their grandchildren, whereas they’re intensely conservative and traditional. Still, I always feel their love, especially through food and how they always make sure to stuff me whenever I come over haha.

Ever had a forbidden love or lover? In a sense, yeah. I was in a same-sex relationship that I hid from my family for four years.

Have you ever had to speak at a funeral? I’ve never been to a funeral but I doubt I could speak at one without breaking down.

Do you know someone who’s been cremated? Yes, my grandpa was cremated.

What is your current problem? Just some deliverables at work that I would rather not think about now.

Do you like canopy beds? Eh, I don’t mind them.

What is your favorite animated movie? Toy Story.

Would you rather live in a small town or a big city? Big city. I need lots of noise, lots of activity and lights where I live. I’ve lived in suburban neighborhoods all my life and I would love a change in pace.

If you could summon any animal to come to your rescue, what animal would it be and why? Idk.

Have you ever watched The Golden Girls? I’ve watched snippets and it’s HILARIOUS. I’ve always wanted to start the series but never knew where to watch it.

Did you ever like the Ninja Turtles? Was never into it, no.

Last alcoholic drink you had? Peach soju and plum soju that got me absolutely hammered.

What are you known for? These days, probably for doing an extreme 180 and having my life be all about BTS now.

Has anyone ever threatened you? Yes.

Have you ever gone frog hunting? No? Doesn’t sound like my type of activity at all.

Do you ever suffer from dry skin? Yeah my face is a little dry, but I don’t think it’s something I ‘suffer’ from since no issues have come out of it so far. It’s just the way it is.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? Not a stuffed animal but I need to hug a pillow to fall asleep.

What’s the weather like right this moment? It’s weather that says “it’s gonna get really hot in an hour or so” and I’m not enjoying that very much.

Do you bite on straws, lollipop handles, or ice cream sticks? If there’s no trash can around, I tend to.

In what type of area was your first sexual encounter? It was in a hotel.

Where is your mother’s side of the family descended from? Just somewhere in the Philippines.

What do you occupy your time with on flights? I’m honestly really happy with just staring out the window. If not that, I bring something to read or listen to music. I haven’t had a flight that lasted 6+ hours, but I imagine I would also bring my laptop for a series or movies to watch if I find myself in that situation.

Do you dog-ear pages in books? Yup.

What’s a made up word of yours? I don’t think I have any.

Do you use Q-Tips? I do.

Ever gone out with somebody you didn’t like? No. I don’t think I could bring myself to do that.

What hero or heroine do you most relate to in history, fiction, or song? I don’t really like content with a hero/ine plot.

What makes you dizzy? Amusement park rides, car rides, headaches.

Are your parents liberal or conservative? Conservative.

Do you like your teeth? Did you have braces? Not my middle teeth, but in general yeah. I did have braces but I lost my retainers at one point so my teeth just went back to their original position eventually.

Are you happy with your height? It’s fine. I’m small but it’s the average here so I don’t really complain.

#survey #surveys

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #435

from yesterday, don’t feel like updating the answers. :^)

When you get married what do you think you’ll put most of your focus and money into? Uhhh. I really don't know... I mean maybe doing all I can do avoid debt? That's what my parents mostly argued about, and I know financial strain can really affect a couple. I never want that burden. Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? My damn self. Have you ever had a teacher that also taught your parents? No; my parents didn't grow up here. Wait! I THINK Mom had one of my college professors? I don't recall for sure, and I definitely don't remember who it was. Are you the type of person who seeks out revenge? Nah. Are there any songs that inspire you? Certainly, such as "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne, "Get Up" by Shinedown, and more. How do you feel about celebrities getting involved in politics? Do you think that the celebrity world and the political world should be kept apart? Not at all; everyone has the right to share their opinion and should not feel like it's necessary to censor it. Let them be people with morals and beliefs, too. I'm totally fine with them CHOOSING to be quiet about controversial subjects, but they're more than welcome to share their thoughts on any topic. What is one pro of living where you do, and what is one con? What is a pro and a con of living where you wished you lived? I guess the only real pro (and this is horrible to be the first thought) is that we're under the radar; like, not really a target for terrorism or anything, lol. I'd get kinda nervous if I lived in, like, Washington D.C. or something. We have A LOT of cons: there is NOTHING to do, we're essentially a hub for crime, the scenery is boring and bland as fuck... I could go on for a long time. I'd love to live in many areas in North America, but I'll go with Alaska, since that would absolute RULE. A strong pro would definitely be the cold climate and the sights, but it would definitely be a con to me when that relentless dark era lasts for months on end. I need the sun (from inside anyway, ha ha) sometimes, because it being dark for what, half a year?, would really damage my happiness. What is your favorite episode of your favorite TV show? Referring to Meerkat Manor, it's actually the one where Mozart dies, I think, even though it destroyed my heart. I just think the writer portrayed it as so beautifully tragic, and the clips shown were so pretty. Does having others watch you do things make you uncomfortable? What sorts of things make you extremely uncomfortable if you are watched while doing them? Are there any things that give you confidence to do if you have an audience? ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY. Do NOT watch me on the computer (especially when writing), I literally will not draw if someone's watching (inevitably besides in Art classes, I think Sara is legit the only person who's watched me draw a bit), I really don't like people watching me edit photography, I'm nooot a fan of others seeing me exercise (though I kinda have to suck that up with having a personal trainer), etc. etc. Just don't watch me do anything, lol. I don't know what actually boosts my confidence if I'm being observed. Does someone in your house speak a different language on a regular basis? No. Do you follow or care about any big sports events? Not at all. Are there any activities people normally do together that you prefer doing alone? Hm. I dunno. If you are going somewhere where you’ll have to wait for a while (i.e. a doctor’s office), do you bring something to occupy yourself? My phone, yeah. How long is your favorite song? I checked, and it's almost six minutes. Do you think you’d ever want to be “internet famous”? I'll admit I've somewhat thought about it, only because my career choices are running so dry, and I'd be able to do it alone. However, I've got noooo idea what I'd actually do, and I also don't think I could handle ridicule or anything like that for any reason. Having a spotlight on me would stress me out. Who was the main cook of your Thanksgiving meal last year? My older sister. What moment in your life have you been most scared? Probably this one occasion where Dad had to pick my sister and me up from school one day and make the 30-minute drive home. Well. He was clearly in a hellish mood because he was flying. He ran stop signs and red lights, passed people illegally... I was in the passenger's seat and absolutely convinced we were going to crash. I can barely believe we didn't. Who was the last person you slow danced with? -_- Do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds. I like how they block out external sound better, and they don't hurt my ears like headphones do. What person/people do you trust the most? My mom. Who in your life do you care about more than yourself? My parents, sisters, my nieces and nephew, Sara... A lot of people, if I'm being honest. I don't value my life as much as I should. Which wild animal would you most like to have as a pet? I am DESPERATE to rescue an opossum one day. :''''( What teacher did all the high school boys/girls have a crush on? I have no idea. Have you ever felt seriously violated? No. Do you watch American Horror Story? I adore(d) the first season; it was mine and Jason's "show." We watched most of season two as well, but I lost interest in the later half of it. I haven't really watched it since, save for the pilot episode of some season I forgot. Does your hometown have any urban legends/scary stories? Not to my knowledge. What’s the scariest nightmare you remember having? Something involving my dad that I won't speak about. Pancakes or French toast? Oh my god, French toast. That sounds delicious rn. Are there any apps you’re addicted to? Not addicted, nah. Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? Yes; it was a bunny holding a multicolor polka-dotted blanket. Do you still collect stuffed animals? Hell yeah. Have you ever had eggs cooked over a campfire? No. What colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes? Just black. What font do you usually use? I mean, it depends on what I'm doing. Is it supposed to appear professional? Aesthetically pleasing? It varies too much to answer this with one font. What about font colors? Usually just black, but again, it depends on what I'm writing. Are you good at making graphics or designing layouts? Ha, no. Do you put gel or mousse in your hair? No. Sleep with just one pillow? No, I use two. I am VERY uncomfortable with just one. Ever woke up crying? Yeah, from nightmares. Do you like big dogs or small dogs better? It depends on the breed and their energy level. I don't really prefer one over the other as a general judgment. Are you going to graduate high school on time? I did. Been to the zoo lately? No, but I'd love to go. :/ Now that I'd consider myself at least a pretty decent photographer, I'd love to see what shots I could take. I LOVE photographing animals with how unpredictable they are. It's like playing the lottery; you really don't know what you're going to get, but you have the chance for seriously priceless moments. Even if we could afford the trip, though, I know I wouldn't last long whatsoever with my legs being as weak as gelatine. I know especially that there's a notable incline in the path, and I'd never make it up it. I really, really look forward to the day where I can really start feeling a difference in my body thanks to the gym. Have you ever been to Mississippi? No. What did you do for your last birthday? We went to The Cheesecake Factory. Do you like to cook? No. What is the worst thing that has happened to you in your entire life? If I'm looking at the big picture and what truly damaged my pleasure in life the most, it'd be developing depression and such intense anxiety. I've given up so much and changed so negatively because of it. Do you know when your next family reunion will be? We've never had one. My family is too spread out. What is your favorite thing to do with your significant other? I'm single, but even in a relationship, I love playing video games together. I've got multiple memories of just having a great time doing that. Where is “home” for you? Wherever Mom is. Is there an animal that creeps you out? Whale sharks, maggots and other bug larvae, centipedes, many beetles, and some other bugs. What is the name of the last band you discovered? Uhhh.. good question. I admittedly don't listen to new music a lot. I tend to stick to the stuff I know. Do you prefer group projects, or would you prefer to work alone? I would rather kick my ankle against a Razer scooter than do a group project. Have you ever been to Hooters? No. Do you have a brother? What’s his name? Yeah, Robert, but everyone calls him "Bobby." Have you ever thought that your life was so bad you wanted to give up? About a billion times. I still do sometimes. Do you have a ceiling fan located in your bedroom? Yes. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No, but I was supposed to visit one in the fourth grade. The water was way too aggressive that day, though, so we had a change of plans and went to a closer island. Hell, it might have been the better option, because it had horses. I remember collecting seashells, too, and just watching the power of the ocean hammer at the shores. It was really pretty. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? Only playfully, like by a cat. Well wait, I think my old baby iguana may have bitten me once (he sure tried to, ha ha), but I don't remember for sure. Did it rain today? Yes. It rains pretty much every afternoon here in the late summer. What was the name of the last dog you pet? Zeke, my sister's German shepherd. He's adorable. Has your luggage ever been lost at the airport? Did you get it back? No. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? I pretty much always hug my friends when I see them. I'm a big hugger. Have you ever witnessed a tornado? No, thank the fucking Lord. Who is your favorite person to talk to when you’re down? Sara. What are you listening to right now? "Blood For Blood" by Powerwolf. Can you get over people easy? Hell no. I do NOT handle loss well AT ALL. And not just romantically. What was the last thing you carried to your room? A drink. Do you drink water that comes from your sink? Only once it's been filtered. Have you ever prank called the police? That is fucking awful. No. What’s your LEAST favorite smiley? XD looks so stupid to me I'm sorry lmao xD reigns supreme. Do you like Italian food? Yeah, more than I used to. Have you ever put red lipstick on just to make lip marks on something? No. Do you watch Shane Dawson on YouTube? Isn't his career pretty much toast now? I DID used to love his videos, though. I still occasionally watch his fiance, though, and he pops up sometimes. Regardless of everything, I still think he's funny as fuck. Would you ever spend a day to see what it’s like to be homeless? NOOOOOOO NO NO NO NO. I am TERRIFIED of living on the streets someday. I want NO idea what it's like. Is the house you’re currently living in over 50 years old? I highly doubt that. Have you ever had a yard sale? Many. What is your favorite color? Baby pink. Did you have a good day or a bad day? Today was extreeeemely dull and felt like it lasted eons. Do you know anyone that has/had cancer? I sadly know maaaaany. Have you ever read somebody else’s diary? No, that is incredibly rude. Do you enjoy going to school? I hated it from start to end. Like I have good memories, but overall, I hated school. Were you a big jump roper back in the day? OHHHH YES. I almost learned how to double-dutch, even. I could jump with two ropes, but not jump in with two. Are you a local celebrity? Definitely not. Do you eat candy daily? No. I'm already fat dude, I don't need candy. I avoid candy as best as I can. Do you get nervous with public speaking? Like you would not believe. How old were you when you got your driver's license (if you have it)? I'm 25 and still don't have it. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you they loved you? Yes. What memory are you most afraid of losing? Meh, I don't know. A lot of what I consider my "favorite" memories I'd honestly be better off losing, probably. Who accompanied you to your first concert? My mom, younger sister, and Jason. Would you rather have tickets to see your favorite band in concert, or $100 to go shopping? TAKE ME TO THE OZZY CONCERT. What do you usually eat for breakfast? It really varies. I'd say cereal most often, probably? Do you wish you were more outgoing? Yeah. Do you know anyone who wears a hearing aid? I don't think so?

#survey #surveys #random questions

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loveafterthefact · 4 years ago

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Love After the Fact Chapter 7: A Spark of Electricity

Keith makes a new friend and discovers he’s been committing tax fraud his entire life completely unknowing 🤣

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Keith stirs. It hadn’t occurred to him that sharing a bed with Lance might be to his benefit, but he finds it better than being alone. He’s spent a few decaphoebs of his childhood alone already.

Being alone as a kit does a lot of damage. It can make the kit skittish and paranoid. It impedes their ability to express themselves, both verbally and through body language. Especially body language. It leads to depression and antisocial behavior.

And it makes sleeping difficult. Kits are instinctively driven only to sleep when their older littermates or parents are around. It keeps them safe. As such, having a full-grown, larger Altean sleeping only a few dashes away does a lot for him.

It can’t repair what was done to him as a small kit crying on a cliff’s edge for his father to get up and climb back up to find him, but it helps.

Except now he's alone, curled up by himself beneath the warm blankets. Or is he alone? There's a static sound, a flash behind his eyelids, a curse. Keith opens his eyes.

A small girl, an Olkari, is fussing with a panel in the wall. Much like himself, Keith can't imagine that she's an adult. But when she turns around, she wasn’t exactly a child, either. More adolescent. But extremely small.

“Oh, great, you’re awake! Keith, right? That’s what Lance said you like to be called.” Seemingly benign.

“Who are you?” Keith asks, blinking sleep and tangled hair from his eyes.

“Pidge. I’m the resident tech expert around here. I’m modifying the lighting system so that you can adjust it from your datapad. There was a glitch, unfortunately, which Lance picked up earlier when he went to adjust it for you before he left. My fault. Happens to the best of us. I’d fix it the ‘normal’ way, but the Castle isn’t Olkari tech, so old-fashioned way it is! Besides, I don't mind it. I actually like doing it this way.”

Normal way? This is the normal way! Keith sits up. “I don’t have a datapad.”

Pidge holds up a piece of glass with a white border around it. “Now you do.” She tosses it onto the bed. “I’m almost done with this. Just give me a second. Then I’ll help you set it up. Can you read Altean?”

“No.” He can, but the girl doesn’t need to know that. Keith busies himself with tracing the embroidery on the duvet cover.

“You're a terrible liar, but that's your business. That’s fine. I can program the pad to translate everything into Galran for you. We can even go old school and use a handprint scanner to unlock it, if you want. Only you and Lance would be able to get into it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Lance said that Hunk and I are to make you as happy and welcome as possible and since we’re friends, I’m happy to oblige.”

“We’re friends? Who’s Hunk?”

“Lance, Hunk, and I are friends.” Pidge pressed the sparking tool back to a wire. “You are... a potential friend. Lance says you seem alright.”

“I’m flattered,” Keith deadpans. Pidge laughs. She’s not... so bad. Nothing here, minus the people Lance calls ‘courtiers’, are too terrible. And the Altean food. That’s terrible too. Also the clothes.

There's a lot that's terrible.

“Be nice, and maybe I’ll make you a body modification so you can taste sweet things?”

“You can do that?” Pidge nods, replacing a panel in the wall, work seemingly complete. “But you’re... just a girl? Like, a very young girl.”

“Nonbinary, actually. But yes, I am quite young.” Pidge smiles, removing the magnifying lenses from their eyes.

“Oh. Sorry. I-” Keith had assumed that most species followed the laws of the Alteans. he'd assumed his species was unusual.

“No worries. Just try to remember for the future and we're all good.” Pidge gets up from the floor, coming to sit on the bed like it's their own. “So, you wanna turn that datapad on?” Keith sucks on his lip, ears wilting as he inspects the datapad for a button. “Here. Gimme.”

Keith hands the datapad to Pidge, blushing beneath his short facial fur. The Olkari shows him a small button on the side, turning it on and handing it back to him. They spend the next varga showing him how to use it, how to translate texts, how to access the castle’s documents. They even show him how to tap into video feeds they’ve set up to spy on the kings in Alfor’s laboratory, though they warn him that not everything that happens in there is alchemy. At least not in the traditional sense.

Apparently Coran likes to visit. Also? Gross.

After all of that, Keith finds himself just... chatting with the young Olkari. They poke him and prod him and shine a flashlight in his ears. They ask probing questions about his personal biology and what purpose such trimorphism might serve.

“Well, it used to be that child-bearing and care was more of a... communal thing? We didn’t always form the strong bonds with our mates that we do now. But since our trimorphism doesn’t hold any disadvantage, our biology hasn’t changed.”

“That. Is so cool.” Pidge fiddles with another panel in another wall while Keith makes note of which foods he likes from the sampler he’s just received for breakfast. “Keith?”

“Hm?” Keith looks up from a small bowl of deep green beans, licking the corner of his mouth. Pidge turns, absently playing with the end of his tail. They’re a cute little thing, Keith decides. Inquisitive. Benign. A kit, like himself.

“How old are you?”

“Just nineteen decaphobes. Turned nineteen a few movements ago.”

“So you’re just a pup. Like me.” Keith nods, gesturing for them to continue. “Why would Zarkon marry you off, then?”

“Didn’t like my dad. Different perspectives, I guess? My father wanted to focus more on internal growth; Zarkon wanted to focus on expansion. They had a falling out.” Keith twitches his tail, watching the inquisitive Olkari chase it with their honey-colored eyes. “It happens sometimes. Anyway, I think he wanted me gone. Bring back sad memories, I guess.”

“How did you end up with him anyway?”

Keith’s ear wilt, tail stilling. “My father... died. Zarkon sent me to live with a friend, Takashi. He's basically my littermate.”

There was so much more to it than that, but Keith didn’t want to talk about it. Pidge narrowed their eyes at him, and Keith knew they could tell he was hiding things. Finally, they nod.

“Well, at least Zarkon didn’t hold your father against you.”

“No, he didn’t. He hoped I would be happy here, I think. He worries about me.” Keith tucks his legs up to his chest. Pidge hums, reaching out to touch a tangled lock of Keith’s hair. They begin working the knots out of it.

“I’d worry too, if my child nephew was married off to the likes of Crown Prince Lancel. He’s got quite the reputation. Or did. Adam says everyone was astounded when he showed up to hold court today. Especially King Coran. King Alfor's heart probably stopped when he heard about it.”

“What does Lance normally do?” Keith latches onto the change of topic.

“Hm. Runs all over. Flirts. Goofs off. Goes hunting. Flirts some more. The people like him as a person, but they don’t care for him as their crown prince. Y’know, because a crown prince becomes a king, and a king needs to like, do stuff. Other than the local prostitutes.”

Keith grins just in time for the door to open for Lance himself, followed by Adam toting a stack of tablets.

“Okay... question one,” Lance mutters, nose stuck in his own datapad. “What the quiznak are taxes?” Adam sighs, exasperated.

Pidge gives Keith a significant look. “Do you want to laugh or shall I?”

“As his spouse, I claim that right.” Keith dissolves into quiet laughter, the Olkari following suit.

“Oh, great!” Lance vaults over the back of the couch with a comb. “You two are getting along. Pidge, Keith. Keith, Pidge-”

“We’ve already done that,” Pidge informs him.

“Excellent! Anyhoo, Keith, your hair is a mess. Come here.” Lance doesn’t wait for a response, instead taking one lock of Keith’s hair at a time, starting at the ends and working his way up.

"...Thanks. I'll- I'll get it cut. It's inconvenient like this."

"No, don't you dare. I need you to keep it." Adam looks like he might throttle Keith. "Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to endear you to these fops? The cuter and more harmless you look, the better."

"Gee, thanks," Keith grumbles. Pidge snickers, going through the pockets of Lance's... what is it with Altean clothes? Lance has pants, but then a skirt in the back? What's even the point of that? He also had a cape? Nevermind. Pidge searches in the pockets of his pants.

Keith allows Lance to do as he likes since the comb doesn't hurt. He occupies himself chatting amicably with Pidge, taking comfort in the blunt openness and bright enthusiasm that they exude. Lance joins in, braiding a red-and-gold ribbon into Keith’s hair. The seamsmaster has assigned Keith an aesthetic and run with it. But the braid looks pretty, so whatever.

If only the matching wardrobe were more comfortable.

Hair done, Keith climbs up into the loft, watching from above as Adam and Pidge team up to teach Lance about taxes. He likes Pidge. Likes how sweet Lance is with them, giving them bits of junk he’s found lying about, letting them sit in his lap and scan the soft scales on his face with some device. He yelps when they try to stroke them against the grain. Pidge, unaware that it would hurt, apologizes immediately. Lance just waves it off, the same way Pidge waved off Keith's misgendering earlier.

These people. They're so easy-going. Adam is a tight-ass, but he's definitely overworked and probably overtired. Lance and Pidge seem to take offense to little, brushing off accidental hurts like one might brush off a drop of rain. Keith likes them well enough, but he's content to do so from his loft, where he can't be disappointed if they don't like him back.

Instead, he listens. And learns. Apparently, taxes are an allotment of money taken from the citizens to fund the crown. Who knew?

Living in the woods like a wild animal is not taxable. Keith smirks, realizing that he's technically a life-long criminal.

Wait until Lance finds out.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

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jesatria · 4 years ago

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Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap. 7

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 3.747 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

4. Triumph

5. Gifts

6. The Eagle Unbound

Chapter 7: Lighting the Candle

Consort.

It was an honor I’d hardly dreamed of during the years of my acquaintance with Isidore. Oh, there were a few times when the thought came into my mind, what it would be like to be his consort. In truth, I would’ve been happy to remain his lover. I knew how he felt about me and made my feelings for him quite clear. What more was needed? But now… now a whole new realm of possibility had opened up.

We spoke more on the matter during his visit. “You’ll need to be presented at court,” he told me one evening as we sat together in the great hall.

“What will that entail?” I asked.

“You’ll be formally announced at a court function, and then I’ll name you my consort.”

“It’s truly that simple?”

“Truly. The hardest part will be preparing you for it, I’ll need to have a dress appropriate for court made, to begin with,” he elaborated.

I tried to imagine myself in the kind of expensive gown worn by sophisticated ladies of the court and couldn’t. I’d hardly ever even seen such things, as court ladies were in short supply at Lombelon since Lady Shahrizai gave it to Isidore. “I think I would feel rather silly wearing somewhat like that.”

He smiled. “Mayhap. The trick is not to let it show and look as if you’ve always belonged there. Anyway, rest assured I’ll do everything possible to ensure you’re looking your best when the time comes.”

“I doubt I’d be any good at looking like I belong at court.”

He put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer on the sofa we shared. “Don’t worry about it overmuch. You’re hardly the first commoner to become the consort of a peer. It’s not so uncommon that they’ll see you as some kind of oddity to gawk it.”

“Well, that’s a little bit comforting.”

“You won’t need to come to court regularly unless you want to. I’ll not ask it of you if you truly despise it. If you like, I’ll buy you your own townhouse in the City and you’ll never need to set foot in the Palace.”

I blinked. “A… townhouse?” That was rather more than fancy dresses and jewelry befitting the consort of a Duc.

“Yes, a townhouse. Many peers have them in the City.”

“Do you have one?”

“No, I make do with quarters in the Palace. We would stay there when in the City, but I won’t force you to if you’d prefer a townhouse.” He gave his head a slight shake. “I’m getting far ahead of myself. The first order of business will be getting you a wardrobe befitting your new station.”

All of this was quite a bit to take in. I never expected it, never wanted it. I was happy with my life at Lombelon. As long as I had my gardens and loved ones around me, I was content. Now I was about to be thrust into a world beyond my experience. It was exciting and a bit frightening. I would go from Anne Livet, gardener’s daughter to Anne Livet, consort of the Duc d’Aiglemort. It was plain my relationship with Isidore had entered a new stage.

“… before that,” he was saying, “I think some changes are in order here. I’ve been remiss in keeping you as well as I should’ve been and I mean to remedy it. You should no longer be working as a servant here.”

“But the gardens…”

He held a finger to my lips and I fell silent. “I wouldn’t dream of parting you from your gardens. You’ll be free to do whatever you like with them. As for the rest of your duties, you are from now on free of them. I never got the impression you particularly enjoyed them anyway.”

I thought of the dull drudgery of cleaning and replied, “No, I do not. Except for cooking. That I would miss.” Ever since the quiche, which I’d since made several more times, I’d cooked a number of dishes for us. These had included more Camaeline dishes which were previously unfamiliar to me. They were hearty dishes, meant to fill you up during a long winter. Isidore was not very particular when it came to food, but he did come to miss the familiar cuisine of home when he’d been away for a while.

“I’d never forbid you from doing anything you like to do,” he said with a small smile. “Cook as much as you like.”

It was quite a bit to think on. I’d been a servant all my life and had long ago accepted it as my lot in life. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself without the usual rounds of chores, and a life of leisure was exactly what he was offering me. There was nothing I’d rather spend my time doing more than working in gardens, but what would I do when the season was over? What did noblewomen do all day, anyway? I supposed I would find out.

There was more to my new status than freedom from tedious chores, as I was to discover that night. Rather than go to the master suite, Isidore led me to the smaller bedchamber adjoining it. The room was familiar to me—I’d cleaned it plenty of times. It had been aired out and fresh sheets laid upon the bed. “This is yours, if you want it. About time we had adjoining bedchambers.”

I smiled. “I agree.” The room was mayhap twice the size of the one I’d lived in my entire life. “You mean for me to stay here even when you’re not.”

He nodded. “I know your current room has great significance for you. I’ll not ask you to stay here if you’d prefer not to.”

“To sleep on a feather bed every night? Of course I would. Though,” I noted, “I’d like to keep my own room too. Giving it up just feels… wrong. And there isn’t a shortage of space for the staff, so it’s hardly needed.”

That was the night I became the lady of the manor where I’d grown up. Some part of me could not quite believe it, though it was in keeping with everything which had happened since Isidore asked me to be his consort. There were more than a few jealous stares directed at me the following day, but that was nothing new—I’d been getting those since the day Thèrese had me bring Isidore a bottle of pear brandy. Others were genuinely happy for me. These included Marcel, who held no bitterness over it. “I’m truly glad that you’re happy, Anne,” he told me, “and I hope you’ll still consider me a friend.”

“Of course!” I exclaimed before pulling him into an embrace.

The rest of Isidore’s visit passed in a blur. Before leaving, he assured me he’d return as soon as he was able. As sad as I was to see him go, my head was clearer after he left, with the haze of love lifted. I had much to think on.

The day after Isidore left, I approached Thèrese. I needed some advice on particular womens’ matters and she’d been the closest thing I had to a mother growing up. She’d been the one to teach me how to cook and sew when I wasn’t occupied with my schooling or working in the gardens beside my father. I waited until the evening, when I knew she’d be overseeing the cleaning of the kitchen after dinner. I was keenly aware of my new status and did not want to flaunt it over them, so I had my meal brought to the dining room and ate alone. Had I taken my meal in the kitchen, I’d have earned more of the same jealous glares I’d already been subjected to.

I breathed a small sigh of relief when I stepped into the kitchen and found it empty save for Thèrese. “Pardon me for interrupting, Thèrese, but may I speak with you?”

She placed a stack of plates in a cupboard and turned to face me. “Of course, Anne.” We both sat down at the table.

“I need some advice,” I began, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m… thinking of lightning the candle.”

There was no need for elaboration; Thèrese gave me a knowing look. “In the Duc’s name, I take it?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Ah. Well, these recent changes show he’s treating you as more than a casual bedmate.”

I nodded. “He means to make me his official consort, have me presented at court and all.”

Thèrese’s eyebrows rose. “He’s taking it quite seriously, then.”

“I’m quite certain of how he feels about me, but I can’t help thinking mayhap I should wait to see…”

“You want to know how I felt when I lit the candle,” Thèrese cut in.

“Yes.”

“My situation was different, clearer. I was married and I lit the candle on my wedding night. Normally I’d suggest you think on it to make sure, but in your case it seems clear to me that his grace has strong feelings for you and intends to see you well cared for.”

I want to take care of you, Anne. “He does.”

“Then you have your answer.” She smiled coyly. “I do recall you speaking about wanting children before. You’ve a good figure for child bearing, in any case.”

I couldn’t help but smile in return. “Thank you, Thèrese. I believe I’ve made up my mind.”

Later, I would come to wonder if mayhap I should’ve waited until I was officially named consort or at least to speak with Isidore on the subject. But I was eager, and in the end it proved to be a good thing that I was. I used my newfound leisure time to visit the shrine of the Eisheth in the village. It was far from a proper temple, consisting only of a simple shrine and living quarters for the two priestesses who maintained it. It also served as a hospital and apothecary of sorts. I’d visited many times to fetch herbal tea for my father. The last time I’d gone to the shrine had been when he was dying…

I shook my head to dismiss the memory. That was hardly what I needed to be thinking of at this particular moment. I opened the door to the shrine and stepped inside. The priestess was there, cleaning remnants of burnt incense from the offering bowl. She set it aside once she caught sight of me. “Welcome, Anne. Do you wish to make an offering?”

“Of a sort. I would like to light the candle to Eisheth.”

The priestess gave me a knowing smile. “I thought you might choose to light the candle someday.” Her statement made me wonder if word of my change in status had reached the village. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it had. They’d known about me and Isidore for ages.

The priestess fetched a candle and led me over to the shrine. It consisted of nothing more than a statue of Eisheth. An offering bowl stood in front of it, along with a rack meant for candles. Only a few were currently burning. The priestess handed me a thick white candle and a flint striker. “Light the candle and place it in front of the statue,” she instructed.

I took a breath to steady myself and lit the candle. A place was free in the center of the rack and I set it there, careful not to spill hot wax on my hands. I lifted my eyes to gaze upon the statue of Eisheth. She clutched a harp in one hand; the other was raised in a gesture of blessing. Her face wore a expression of gentle serenity. It was time to speak the prayer. I did not need the priestess to tell it to me; every woman knew it. “Blessed Eisheth, hear my prayer,” I said, keeping Isidore’s beautiful face in my mind’s eye, “open the gates of my womb.”

It was done.

The flame burned bright and steady. I chose to take that for a good sign. Before I left the shrine, the priestess took me aside to explain the changes I’d now experience. It was nothing I’d not heard of before—I’d heard plenty of women who’d lit the candle complain of their monthly courses before and I couldn’t say I was looking forward to them. The priestess was kind enough to give me herbs to take if I was afflicted with cramps and headaches.

“If Eisheth should choose to grant your prayer and you get with child, please feel welcome to come to me with any questions you may have,” said the priestess. She was the closest thing we had to a chirurgeon and she acted as midwife to both Lombelon itself and the village. I thanked her for her assistance and took my leave.

The next weeks passed incredibly slowly. I was bursting with eagerness to see Isidore and tell him what I’d done. We’d never spoken of having children before and in truth I wasn’t entirely sure how he’d react. I doubted he would be angry—I’d not have done it I thought it would anger him—but beyond that I couldn’t say. Letters came from him regularly and I considered telling him in my replies before deciding against it. Somewhat of such important had to be said in person.

Summer finally turned to fall. By then I’d grown slightly more comfortable in my new station, though it was still strange to see my familiar possessions in such a different setting. Some of the initial jealousy had abated and the others generally treated me with courtesy. I couldn’t help but think how much harder it would be to adjust to life as Isidore’s officially-acknowledged consort. Well and so, I would deal with that when the time came.

The leaves were falling when Isidore at last returned to Lombelon. His eagerness was immediately apparent, as he all but ran over and swept me into his arms, accompanied by the familiar rounds of cheers from his men-at-arms. It was comforting to know there were people in his world who approved of us. I doubted I’d be so lucky when I met the entirety of his friends and family. One of them was Lady Shahrizai, after all, and that woman made my skin crawl.

I chose to tell him that evening, after we’d retired to his bedchamber for our nightly round of lovemaking. “There’s somewhat I need to tell you before we go any further,” I began as we sat together on the bed.

“What is it?”

I took a breath to fortify myself, then spoke. “I lit the candle to Eisheth in your name.”

I’d never seen Isidore look shocked before, but he did then. He stared at me, blinking slowly, trying to form a response to this revelation. “You did… what?” he finally said.

“I lit a candle to Eisheth,” I repeated, finding it suddenly hard to meet his eyes. “I suppose I should’ve spoken with you about it, I just… felt inspired to do it after your last visit.”

The mattress shifted and a moment later his arm was around my shoulders. “Anne, I’m not angry with you—I’m shocked is all. You’ve scarcely said aught to me on this matter before.”

“I’m sorry. I really should’ve spoken to you about it.”

He pulled me closer. “Tell me.” His voice held in it the now-familiar note of command.

“There’s not much to say. I’ve always wanted a child and when you told me you meant to make me your consort, I thought mayhap you might feel the same,” I admitted. My hand rose to stroke his hair. It was soft as silk. “Is it so strange that I’d want to have a child with the man I love?”

Somewhat softened in his fathomless black eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s a natural thing and I shouldn’t be surprised by it. I confess us having children is not somewhat I’ve considered, forgive me.”

“Would you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He was silent for a moment, gazing upon me with those lovely eyes I found so easy to get lost in. “Yes, I would.”

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into an embrace. It was hard to contain my excitement. “Truly?”

“Yes, Anne. Truly.”

After, as I lay in his arms, I found myself too excited to fall asleep easily. A child. We were, provided Eisheth answered my prayer, going to have a child. I wondered if all women felt this way after lighting the candle, a rush of elation at the thought of getting a child by the men they loved. It might’ve happened this night, for all I knew. That we weren’t married was of no concern. A bit unusual, mayhap, but it wasn’t as if there weren’t women who got children with men who were not their husbands. Eventually my excitement gave way to exhaustion and sleep took me.

We spoke more on the subject of children the following day. “You were several steps ahead of me,” he admitted, the beginnings of a smile playing at his lips. “I’ve only just told you my intention to name you my consort.”

“Call it a rare moment of impulse,” I replied.

“It’s not somewhat I’ve thought about much, in truth.”

“Really? I thought all the peers were concerned with getting heirs.”

“Many of them are. I’ve known it is my duty to produce an heir for House Aiglemort from a young age, but I might say I was lucky my father neglected to arrange a betrothal for me before he died,” he explained, “and I’ve had less time and appetite for the game of courtship played by most of my peers.”

I said a silent prayer of thanks to Blessed Elua that the late Duc d’Aiglemort had not seen fit to marry his son off at a young age. “And now that you’ve given the matter some thought, how are you feeling?”

“Excited at the prospect of getting a child on the woman I love.”

Isidore visited frequency that autumn, I daresay more frequently than he had any other season. If my revelation had anything to do with it, he didn’t say, only that it was easy enough for him to spend most of his time at Lombelon and travel to the City when needed. More than a month had passed since I lit the candle and I was quite dismayed when the monthly courses I’d been warned about came. The sensation was almost unpleasant enough to make me regret lighting the candle. Almost.

I didn’t let any of that discourage me. It wasn’t uncommon for it to take a bit of time, I knew. Our desire for each other had, if anything, grown more intense over time. I was his and he was mine. We belonged to each other.

“Sometime next year, I think,” he said as we sipped brandy together one evening.

“Why next year? It seems a long time to wait.”

His gaze moved away from me to the fire burning steadily in the fireplace. “There is like to be trouble on the border.”

“The Skaldi raiding in large numbers again?”

“Yes, only worse,” he replied. “They’ve managed to find a leader to unite them.”

I thought back to what he’d told me about the Skaldi before. “You said they were a fractious people. It must be an impressive leader who was able to unite them.”

“From everything I have heard on the matter, he is exactly that.” He drained his glass and set it on the table. “I don’t believe in keeping troubling news from you, but I don’t want you to worry about this.”

I clasped the arms of my chair tightly. “I can’t help but worry.”

His expression softened. “I know. If it’s any comfort I have been doing my best to strengthen the border defenses and plan on making a request to the King for more men soon. We are taking the threat seriously. Now,” he stood and took my hand in his, “I can think of more pleasant ways to pass the night than worrying about the Skaldi.”

I stood and followed him to the bed, thoughts of a possible Skaldi invasion draining from my mind. A moment later our hands were at work undoing each other’s clothes as we kissed deeply. The feeling of his lips on mine sent pangs of desire coursing through me. No matter how many times we made love, our passion for each other burned as hotly as ever. Our clothes were soon a pile on the floor. His rough, calloused swordsman’s hands were on me then, stroking and caressing every part of me. Ah, how I loved the feel of them on my bare skin!

I lay back on the pillows and spread my legs. He took his place between them, then bent to perform the languisement. It didn’t take long, wet as I was already. He pleasured me with sure, quick strokes of his tongue until my arousal was nearly unbearable. When he pulled away, Naamah’s Pearl ached from the loss. He sat upright on the bed between my legs and I felt his rigid phallus press against me. Knowing what he was about, I lifted my legs to rest on his shoulders as he thrust inside me. It was a position we found in the Trois Milles Joies, ones we were both fond of. His firm grip held me legs in place as he rode me. I kept my eyes on his face, finding it impossible to look away from his smouldering dark eyes and the smile he gave me, that small, secret smile I always loved to see. My own climax was nearly upon me; I slid a hand between my legs to rub Naamah’s Pearl. I let the waves of pleasure overtake me and I cried out his name when I reached my peak. His followed shortly after mine. When it was done, he fell back on the plush pillows and pulled me close to him. We fell asleep that way, in perfect contentment.

It was a little over a month later, as the last leaves were falling and winter’s chill could be felt in the air, when I realized I was with child.

#kushiel's legacy #jesatriafic #simple pleasures #isidore d'aiglemort #anne livet

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detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years ago

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Series: Part 2 of Hidden Truths / Link to Part 1: The Secrets We Keep

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Chapter summary:

Eddie wakes up to find the two of them in a different position than when they fell asleep. It's something that they would need to talk about but, right now, their first priority is getting Christopher to school on time.

read under the cut

Eddie woke comfortably, more comfortably than he could have anticipated from sharing a bed with his best friend, and he figured it has something to do with what was going on behind him. There was an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, and small puffs of air ruffling the hairs on the back of his neck. He could feel the warm lines of Buck’s body contoured against his own and it felt like home.

This is what he wanted; he never expected it, never even occurred to him that it was something that wanted from Buck and yet in this moment Eddie couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. Maybe his sleep-addled brain was onto something last night. Maybe he’s been loving Buck romantically for a while now and hadn’t even realised it.

Buck had integrated himself into his life, into his family, so completely that Eddie hadn’t even batted an eye. If he was being completely honest with himself, Buck already felt like a significant other in more ways than one.

His alarm hadn’t gone off yet and Eddie would rather it not wake Buck after he managed to fall into a peaceful slumber for the rest of the night. The only problem was that he couldn’t reach his phone, not with Buck anchoring him in place. As soon as he even tried to extricate himself to get to it, Buck unconsciously nuzzled his face between Eddie’s shoulder blades as he somehow managed to pull him impossibly closer.

Eddie found it endearing and couldn’t quite suppress the chuckle bubbling in his chest, the slight shaking of his back must have disturbed Buck’s sleep because the man was slowly coming around mumbling imperceptible things as he once again tightens his grasp around Eddie’s waist before coming to life with a gasp as if he’d branded himself, falling out of bed with a heavy thump.

Eddie rolls over to see Buck’s bed tousled hair emerging from the side of the bed with his hands outstretched, panicked.

“Oh my god. Eddie, I am so sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends, looking out of sorts, “That was so out of line-”

“Buck.”

“-can’t believe that I invaded your space like that. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed last night, that was a mista-”

Eddie knelt on the bed, shuffling on his knees to the edge as he reached out to him. “Evan, stop. It’s okay.”

Buck took a few steps back, shying away from his hands. “No Eddie it’s not. I crossed a line. A line that I swore to myself that I wouldn’t cross.”

“We need to talk about this.” Before he has the chance to say anything else on the matter, his alarm breaks his focus reminding him that there was a reason it was set in the first place. “But right now we need to get Chris off to school.”

And so, they went about their usual daily routine; Buck moved towards the kitchen to whip up something quick for breakfast while Eddie checked to see that Chris was getting up. Eddie tried to keep it light as they got Chris ready for school, making a point to appear unfazed by the morning's turn of events in hopes to relieve some of Buck’s anxiety.

Judging from the way Buck’s smile wasn’t reaching his eyes when he saw Christopher, and the way he kept a respectable distance away from Eddie when he could or the fact that he wouldn’t meet his eye, told Eddie that Buck was far from relaxed.

Usually when they had the morning off Eddie would take Chris to school by himself, but Eddie didn’t want Buck stewing by himself or even disappearing before he got back, so he invited him along while Christopher was in the room because he knew Buck wouldn’t say no. It was a low blow using his son, but Eddie needed Buck to understand that what happened didn’t bother him.

Buck kept stealing glances on the drive to the school looking as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, luckily for Eddie though, Chris kept the both of them occupied with the inane questions that only a 9-year-old could come up with. And for a moment he thought that maybe that would be enough for Buck to realise that everything was okay between them.

Turned out he was wrong.

Buck didn’t say anything on the drive back, instead, he just stared at Eddie intently as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say. Eventually, he broke his silence as they made their way back into the house, ending up in the kitchen with Eddie moving to make coffee while Buck took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Why aren’t you mad?” He made a placating gesture, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you’re not but not many straight guys would be cool with waking up to find their known bisexual friend spooning them. That's not exactly normal friend behaviour and the last thing I want to do would be to make you feel uncomfortable for doing that.”

That made sense, thought Eddie and he took his time to reply, trying to figure out the best thing to say, he sighed as he pulled two mugs from the cabinet and set them down on the counter, “I’m not mad because I liked it, Buck, it was nice to wake up to.”

“Wait, what?” He didn’t have to see Buck’s face to hear the clear confusion in his voice.

Keeping his hands busy, Eddie went about clearing out the old coffee grounds in the coffee machine and set it up with some new grounds before finally turning around to look at Buck. “I was thinking about this last night and this morning when you were asleep, and I realised that I might like you, Buck. And not just as a friend.”

“Oh.”

Eddie gave him a pointed look and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter, hoping Buck would elaborate.

Buck blushed and looked down, tracing his finger on the table, “yeah uhm, I’m sorry, it’s just I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, but I never thought you would ever feel the same way.” He looked up quickly, as if he’d just realised something, “I didn’t think you’d ever be interested or that you were into guys for that matter.”

It only took a couple of strides before Eddie was at the table and he hurriedly sat in the chair opposite Buck, placing his hand over Buck’s “This is news to me too, I didn’t know I was into guys either, but then I was holding you last night and it just kind of clicked. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

He was about to try and elaborate more, but the coffee machine signaled that it was done so he went about making both of the coffees without missing a beat, not needing to ask Buck his preference. Picking up both mugs, Eddie jerked his head towards the door to the living room, a familiar gesture that Buck doesn’t question and trails after him as he lead them to the couch before handing Buck his coffee as he takes a seat.

Buck took a sip of his before taking his usual spot and turned his body to face Eddie, tucking his leg under the other as he does so, just like every other time they’ve had one of their ‘discussions’. Looking down at his coffee, Eddie rubbed his thumb along the rim of the cup.

“I think I must have had romantic feelings for you for a while because waking up next to you this morning felt normal and familiar, and the more I thought about it the more I realised that we’ve actually been acting as if we're in a relationship, and I just never noticed it until now.”

Buck set down his mug carefully as he considered what Eddie was trying to imply. “What are you trying to say Eds? Are you trying to say you want to be more than just friends? Be boyfriends?”

“I-uh, yes? Maybe?” Eddie sighed and set down his coffee, “But Evan, before we decide on whatever this is between us, I’ll be completely honest with you, I want it to work but I need to know if you’re willing to go slow with me even with the possibility of us never having sex.”

Buck leaned forward and caressed Eddie’s face with a coffee-warmed hand, “I’m willing. Eddie, we can go as slow or as fast as you want, and if that means we never go past kissing, well then so be it because I get to be with you and that’s all I need.”

Eddie watched as Buck drifted in even closer, eyes darting as they search his, “Eddie, can I kiss you?”

Eddie nodded with a whispered yes before Buck closed the distance between their lips. Buck's lips were surprisingly soft and supple as pressed against his. Eddie couldn’t help but let his eyes fall shut with the smallest of gasps as he melted into this impossibly tender kiss.

They kept it light with neither of them in a rush to deepen it. Instinctively he brought one hand to Buck’s waist while he gently dragged the other through Buck’s hair to cradle the back of his head, keeping a steady pressure of his lips against Buck’s. It felt like a promise of what could and will be and Eddie felt like he could go on for days just like this, connected to Buck.

Eventually, they part lips, each with a contented sigh and Buck cupped the back of Eddie’s neck lightly as he presses their foreheads together, his breath feathering against his lips. “Was that okay?”

Slightly breathless, Eddie couldn’t help but grin at Buck. “It was better than okay.”

Buck answered his grin with one of his own, lighting up his face with its brilliance as he gives Eddie a small peck on the lips once more before separating and recollecting his coffee before shuffling close to rest his body against Eddie’s.

They stay settled like that pressed up side by side, with Eddie’s arm circled around Buck’s shoulder now that Buck had slid down against his chest. Neither really knowing what to do with themselves now that their relationship status has changed, as it seemed nothing in their life needed to change with it. So, they just stayed like that, contented to relish in this moment for as long as they could before they had work that afternoon.

Tagging: @buck-eddie @bisexualbuck @benjisvictor @seaofashes @chimbuckleys @maysgrant @pan-buck @adamngoodbuck @buckleydiazs @nearly-writes @oliversstark @brilliantbanshee @eddiediaz @gracieli

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