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edenesth · 2 months

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The Way to His Heart [19]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 18 | Fic Masterlist | Part 20

"What do you mean it will take weeks for me to fully recover? I don't have that kind of time, Yunho. This war isn't over yet." Your husband frowned, his gaze fixed on the physician from his position on the bed.

You sighed, stepping closer to the doctor, your concern evident, "Seonghwa, Physician Jung is doing his best. How can you return to battle if you're not physically strong enough? What good will that do, hm? And remember, you've acknowledged Officer Song's strategic prowess. Perhaps it's time to have a little faith in him for now."

Like magic, your words softened the general's hardened expression as he nodded in defeat, "Fine, I suppose you're right," He offered you a smile before turning back to Yunho, "I trust you've at least written back to Mingi to assure him I'm fine, right?"

"It's done, my lord."

"That's good; things should be stable for now. We dealt a significant blow to the Ruhon forces in our last battle. It's unlikely they'll launch any new attacks soon, considering their diminished numbers. If things continue to go well, this war might conclude sooner than expected." Seonghwa remarked, feeling optimistic.

"I certainly hope so, for everyone's sake. I made sure to inform Officer Song that you'll need a few weeks to recover. If they need you urgently, I'm sure he'll write back promptly," The physician assured, relieved to see your husband immediately agree with him, calming down so quickly with your presence, "Yes, I'm sure he will." Yunho knew for certain that without you there, he would have had a much harder time attempting to soothe the older man's frustration.

Sensing the general's longing gaze toward you, the doctor suppressed a knowing grin. Understanding that he was interrupting your much-needed private moment, he decided it was time to leave you both alone. With a final bow, he excused himself, "Well, that's all from me for now. I'll return tomorrow for your bandage change and medication. Good day, General Park and Lady Park."

After the physician left the room, you approached Seonghwa to ensure his comfort, tucking the comforters snugly around him and adjusting the pillow behind his back. His eyes remained fixed on your face, which he had missed dearly, as you fussed over him, "Is the temperature alright? Let me know if it's too hot or cold," You inquired. He nodded, and you continued, "Are you hungry? You must be. I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare something for you—"

Before you could step away from his bedside, he grasped your wrist, his expression displaying a small pout, "Stop, my love. I just want you to stay with me, please."

You softened, placing your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze before brushing some of his hair away from his face, "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you. You've been away at war for so long. I wanted to make sure you have everything you need now that you're home before you eventually return to the battlefield."

He smiled, his hold on your wrist tightening slightly, "All I need is you." He murmured, gently pulling you closer into his arms.

Feeling your heart melt at his words, you relaxed into his embrace on the bed as he pulled the comforter over both of you. Nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, you sighed contentedly as he kissed your temple. He felt complete with you so close again, "God, I missed you so much," He confessed, "Out of all the wars I've fought, this has to be the most dreadful one. Not because it was tough, but because I couldn't stop thinking about you throughout it all."

"I missed you too, Seonghwa," You confessed, drawing in a deep breath to savour his familiar scent, "I never thought I could yearn to be near someone this badly."

His eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you nestled closer to him, pressing his nose against your hair, wishing for this moment to last forever. After a moment of comfortable silence, he couldn't resist asking, "I've heard a lot has happened while I was gone. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you through it. Tell me everything, my wife."

Taking a deep breath, you started from the beginning, recounting the events that unfolded after the general had departed for war. You described encountering Jinjoo during your visit to the fabric factory with Hongjoong, the surprise visit from the prince to the estate, and his unexpected invitation to the birthday banquet. You explained how he lied about you representing Seonghwa at the event and your gratitude for Wooyoung and San's help in preparing for it.

As you narrated every little detail that occurred at the supposed royal birthday celebration, your husband's heart swelled with pride and admiration. He listened intently, feeling his love for you grow with each word. Your courage in standing up for yourself and defending him in front of Prince Yeosang filled him with immense gratitude. He realised how fortunate he was to have you by his side.

"I'm so proud of you, my darling Lady Park."

With a light scoff, you teasingly pushed him in the chest, "Are you now, my dearest General Park? I still can't believe the first thing you chose to do after coming back was hurt me and push me away."

Guilt immediately clouded his expression as he drew closer to you, emitting a small whine, "I'm sorry, my love. Truly, I am. Speaking those cruel words hurt me more than this damn wound. I promise I didn't mean any of it. You're not troublesome at all, and I do want you with me for the rest of my days. If anything, you're all I need from now until the end of time."

At that, you could no longer bear to continue making him feel bad. Turning serious, you gently caressed the bandaged area on his abdomen before speaking, "I understand, Hwa. I really do. But I swear, if you ever pull something like that again, I won't hesitate to let Hongjoong loose on you."

His heart skipped a beat at the nickname you used for him, one you had never used before, "What did you just call me? Say it again."

Embarrassed, you blinked rapidly and cleared your throat before repeating softly, "I called you Hwa. It's your name, isn't it?"

He nodded with a cheeky grin, covering your hand with his, "Indeed it is. I love how bold you've become, my love. Now, along with that nickname, tell me you love me again."

You blushed at his request, feeling he deserved to hear it as many times as he wanted now that he'd returned to your side safely. Relenting, you bit your lip and murmured, "I love you, Hwa."

"Again." He demanded, resting his forehead gently against yours.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Again, my love." He whispered, leaning in closer with hooded eyes.

"I love you, Hwa."

"Say it for me just one more time."

"I love you so much, Park Seonghwa."

Intoxicated by your presence, he could no longer resist cupping your face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you relished the sensation of his lips on yours. Both your hearts raced as you made up for lost time, pressing close to one another under the sheets. Your cheeks burned up, realising this was the most intimate moment you'd shared with your husband so far.

Gently pushing him away by the chest, you looked up at him, worry evident in your eyes, "That's enough, Hwa. You're still injured—"

But before you could finish your sentence, he leaned in, capturing your lips in another loving kiss. You gasped in surprise, but your resistance crumbled quickly as he deepened the kiss. Maybe just for a little longer, you thought to yourself, giving in to the moment.

As he savoured the feeling of having you so close, Seonghwa's emotions swirled within him like a tempest. He needed this closeness desperately, especially after the fear he'd felt earlier, thinking he might be close to death. The regret for hurting you with his words gnawed endlessly at him, and he despised the idea of being separated from you again. How could he have ever entertained the thought of you being with another man? The mere thought of Prince Yeosang in his place, holding you, touching you, kissing you, filled him with an uncontrollable jealousy that bordered on madness.

These thoughts fueled a surge of aggression within him as he flipped you around on the bed, trapping you beneath him. He loomed over you, his gaze intense as he whispered, "Mine. You're all mine."

As much as the sudden action flustered you and caused your heart to skip a beat, you frowned at his stubbornness, realising he wouldn't know when to stop unless sternly told off, "Are you out of your mind, Park Seonghwa? Such big movements could affect the wound, you idiot." You scolded, disrupting the intimate moment.

He blinked, momentarily speechless at the abrupt change in tone, protesting, "I'm fine, my wife—"

Before he could continue, the dressmaker barged in with raised brows, "Oh, we're all fine now, aren't we? I guess you're well enough to take a beating then."

The general panicked, hastily laying back in his spot, "Hongjoong, please, it's rude to enter without knocking." He chided.

You snickered when his friend rolled his eyes, "Well, it's also rude to disrespect your wife, but here we are."

"Oh my god, stop reminding me—"

"I'll stop when you learn to grow the hell up."

"Says you?!"

With a deep sigh, you stood up from your husband's bed, "You two fight to your heart's content; I'm going to prepare something to eat for this one." You said, gesturing to Seonghwa, ignoring his silent pleas not to leave him alone with his friend.

Hongjoong grinned at you, "Don't you worry, I'll take good care of him in the meantime."

Oh, I know you will.

"Have we heard from Physician Jung yet?" Mingi inquired as he was being suited up in preparation for the impending attack by the approaching Ruhon men.

"No, sir. It appears we're facing this battle on our own. But with your exceptional strategies, we should manage well even without General Park." One of the soldiers replied, striving to maintain optimism despite the military commander's absence.

"Let us hope so." The strategist muttered, unable to bring himself to reveal that his strategies had been devised with the assumption of having the best warrior in all of Joseon leading the army. Officer Song hadn't seen battlefield action since his promotion, and his combat skills were far from polished. Just why did this have to happen in the general's absence? Mingi feared the responsibility; if they failed in this battle, it would fall on him. The prospect of leading these men to their deaths was enough to make him feel nauseous.

He still couldn't grasp how Ruhon had made such a swift comeback. It seemed implausible given the significant losses they had suffered in the last battle. After all, the enemy nation wasn't known for its strategic prowess; they were often predictable in their actions. Unless... they were intentionally misleading Joseon into underestimating them? If so, the strategist might have played right into their hands as part of their plan.

Oh god, what do I do?

As General Officer Song meticulously went through his preparations for the impending battle, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. Even with his efforts to focus solely on the task at hand, his thoughts kept drifting back to Seonghwa. The absence of their commander, his superior, and one of his closest friends weighed heavily on his mind.

With each passing moment, his worry for the general intensified. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped him, wondering if his friend was safe and well. Had the older man managed to make it home? Had Yunho received his letter, informing him of General Park's condition?

These questions nagged endlessly at him, gnawing at his insides as he grappled with the uncertainty of the situation. Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of confidence for the sake of his fellow soldiers, Mingi couldn't shake the underlying fear that something terrible might have happened to Seonghwa. All he could do now was hope and pray for his friend's safety, even as the spectre of war loomed ever closer.

A sudden wave of fear washed over him, unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. The general's absence felt more profound and impactful than ever before. It was as if the very foundation of his confidence had been shaken, revealing the stark reality that his sense of assurance had always been rooted in the presence and trust of his commanding officer.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the strategist found himself questioning his own abilities and worthiness. Without General Park by his side, his confidence wavered, leaving him feeling unsteady and uncertain. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such panic in war.

With a heavy heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves. Doing his best to ignore the doubts that plagued him, he knew he had a duty to fulfil. With trembling hands, he reviewed his strategies once more, desperately seeking reassurance in the plans he had meticulously crafted.

As he waited for the cue to head out and face the enemy, Officer Song resolved to push aside his fears and doubts. He may not have Seonghwa's guidance and leadership at this moment, but he knew he had to stand firm and lead the troops to the best of his abilities. With determination set in his heart, Mingi braced himself, ready to face whatever may come in the battle that awaited him.

Just as he was hoping to receive any updates about the general or word from Physician Jung, a soldier burst into the main tent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The strategist's heart skipped a beat, looking forward to some semblance of reassurance amid his mounting anxiety. However, instead of providing the updates he had been desperately seeking, the soldier stammered out his words.

"S-sir, I'm afraid it's time we head out and be on standby," The soldier managed to say between breaths, "The Ruhon army should be arriving anytime soon."

Mingi's hands clenched involuntarily, his mind racing with a mix of apprehension and determination. Despite the lack of information about Seonghwa's condition, he knew that duty called and he had to lead his troops into battle. With a firm nod, he suppressed the trembling in his hands and resolved to face the conflict head-on.

"Let's go out and make General Park proud." He declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. With resolve burning in his eyes, he led his men out of the tent.

Moments later, Officer Song found himself mounted on a horse, the weight of his armour pressing against his shoulders as he surveyed the Joseon army lined up behind him. They stood at attention, ready for his orders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

As he gazed out at the empty land ahead, where the enemy forces would soon emerge, Mingi could hear nothing but the thundering of his own heart in his ears. His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, a familiar weight that offered some measure of comfort in the face of uncertainty.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the uncertainties that threatened to overwhelm him. He may not be Park Seonghwa, but he had undergone rigorous training and was a capable fighter in his own right. Reminding himself of his own combat skills, he squared his shoulders and steeled his resolve.

"We stand ready." He declared, his voice carrying across the ranks of soldiers behind him. Despite the nerves gnawing at his insides, he projected an air of confidence, determined to lead his troops with strength and determination.

I hope you're proud of me, hyung-nim.

His breath hitched in his throat as he finally spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing larger and more distinct with each passing moment. His heart raced as he realised that these were the enemy soldiers they had been waiting for. With a loud voice, he yelled the order for all soldiers to get into position.

Tensions were high as everyone readied themselves, their nerves stretched taut with fear at the absence of their strongest warrior to lead them. But as the figures drew closer, Officer Song's brow furrowed in confusion.

Something was not right.

Instead of a formidable army, only a few Ruhon soldiers were riding toward them, their arms raised in what appeared to be a gesture of surrender. Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he heard their cries.

"Soldiers of Joseon! Please don't attack! We have come to surrender!"

A sense of astonishment rippled through the ranks of the Joseon army as they processed the unexpected turn of events. One of the Ruhon men even went so far as to pull out a white flag, waving it frantically to signal their willingness to concede defeat.

The strategist's grip tightened on his sword as he studied the Ruhon soldiers before him, their faces worn with exhaustion and defeat. Despite their assurances, he couldn't afford to let his guard down yet, not after the treacherous tactics they had previously employed against Seonghwa.

"Hold it right there! How can we believe you're telling the truth?" He demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

The Ruhon soldiers let out heavy sighs, their arms still raised in a gesture of surrender, "Please, we're telling the truth. Most of our troops have been depleted from the last battle," One of them explained, his voice tinged with desperation, "Our ruler has sent word just this morning to put this war to an immediate stop. A messenger is on the way to your royal palace to convey the message to your King as we speak. We come in peace to relay this message, and that is all. All remaining Ruhon troops will be retreating from our camp after this."

Mingi remained silent for a moment, weighing their words carefully. Finally, he lowered his sword, signalling for his own troops to stand down, "Very well," He said, his voice tinged with caution, "But know that we will be watching closely. Any sign of treachery from you, and we will not hesitate to defend ourselves."

The Ruhon soldiers visibly relaxed at his words, nodding quickly, "You have my word." One of them assured before they turned around and began riding away. The tension dissolved as they disappeared from sight, leaving Officer Song and his men standing in disbelief. Relief washed over them, dispelling the earlier fears. The strategist's expression mirrored the collective sentiment of his troops—a mix of relief and disbelief.

"Well, I guess we should head back to camp and await confirmation then," Mingi said, his voice filled with a hint of exhaustion. His soldiers nodded eagerly, grateful that the tense situation had been resolved peacefully. They began to disperse, their spirits lifted by the unexpected turn of events.

Now, everything fell into place, and the pieces of the puzzle aligned once again. His earlier suspicions about Ruhon's swift recruitment of soldiers now made perfect sense. It was clear that they no longer possessed enough manpower to continue fighting this war.

Returning to the main tent, Mingi was relieved to find a messenger waiting for him, "Officer Song, there you are! You have a letter from Physician Jung Yunho," The messenger announced eagerly. He hurried over to receive the paper, unfolding it with urgency. His eyes scanned the neatly written words at lightning speed, absorbing the contents. Once finished, he released the breath he had been holding, sinking into the seat behind him, "Oh, thank heavens the general is alright." He breathed out, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

The messenger's face immediately brightened at his words, and he quickly left to share the good news with the others. Mingi couldn't help but smile; everything was finally falling into place.

Peace, at last.

But his moment of relief was short-lived as a commotion erupted outside. The strategist frowned and left the tent to see what was happening. He found his soldiers blocking the entry of a woman, which puzzled him. Women weren't allowed in this area.

"Forgive us, ma'am. Women are not permitted here," One of the soldiers explained. Mingi pushed through to hear her response, "Yes, I know that, but you don't understand. I'm here on His Majesty's orders. We received word that General Park has been poisoned, and I've been sent specifically to treat him."

As he caught sight of her petite figure, his eyes widened in recognition. Not because of her uniform, which indicated she was a female royal physician, renowned for their medical expertise, but because she was the one he had been searching for all this time.

I finally found you, my one.

« Preview of Part 20 »

"The audacity of those Ruhon bastards, attempting to poison my strongest warrior. That's nothing short of treachery, isn't it, my Queen?" The King grumbled, his concern for Seonghwa evident in his furrowed brow. He had even dispatched their most skilled female royal physician to the war zone, trusting her to heal him.

Anxiety filled his being as his wife sighed beside him, offering a comforting hand on his back. She had yet to muster any courage to mention the trouble caused by their fourth son during the general's absence, not wanting to add to her husband's worries, "I wish I had an answer for that, Your Majesty." She murmured sympathetically.

Before the royal couple could further drown in their pool of misery, the royal secretary rushed in with a few letters. He hastily performed the formal bow, only to have the King wave it away.

"Forget the formalities, Secretary Choi! Tell us what updates you have this instant!" His Majesty's voice was urgent.

San nodded, swiftly unfolding the papers and reading each one aloud. With each letter, a weight seemed to lift from the room.

"The first letter is from General Park," He began, "He reports he's safely home and receiving treatment from his own doctor."

Relief washed over the King's face.

"And the second?" Her Majesty pressed, her tone hopeful.

San's voice steadied as he continued, "The second is from the ruler of Ruhon. He acknowledges defeat and officially surrenders. He is also requesting an audience to discuss a peace treaty. It would seem the war is over, Your Majesties."

"Oh, thank goodness it's over."

After a moment of everyone digesting the news, His Majesty furrowed his brows in slight confusion, "Wait, General Park is home already, you say?" His voice carried a note of incredulity, "How odd. That would mean he began travelling back before there was even news of the enemy's surrender. Why would he return home all of a sudden? Did something else happen?"

The Queen's heart sank at that. For weeks, she had harboured the hope of shielding Yeosang from his father's potential wrath, but now it seemed fate had other plans.

I'm sorry, my son.

Woohoo, only the final part is left, and we're done with the main story! Psst, try going over to the Spinoff Masterlist to see if you can spot anything new HEHE🙈

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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biographydivider · 11 months

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Calling it a warmup for a busy writing day ahead, but it’s really a present for @yamujiburo - I read that ask about my favourite awful feline scamming his way into two meals and got inspired. For the most accurate reading, Meowth is in his Maddie Blaustien era, because she was the best thing to ever happen to the character and that was the version of Meowth I love the best.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Pallet Town, and Delia was in her vegetable garden; occupying herself while Jessie took Arbok and baby Ekans for a training day in Viridian Forest. Ash was supposed to be home soon, and she thought she’d make a fuss. She had some garlic growing, and a crop of beautiful tomatoes that were practically falling off the vine; she’d make a nice pasta sauce. Oh - and those razz berries were looking just delicious, too! Perfect for a sponge cake.

“Haaa...oh, woe is me...”

Delia looked up to see the strange little Meowth that Jessie and James had adopted on their travels wandering along the path that led to her home. Delia knew that Meowth had taken the breakup of Team Rocket to heart; he technically lived with James, but sometimes he just took himself off on an adventure to Pallet to bother Jessie for a few days. He’d follow her around, yammering about this and that, bringing up the Good Old Days, and Jessie would pretend to be annoyed by him right up until the second he planned to leave. Then, the tears would start.

“I just don’t tink I can go on for much longer...”

With a swoon, Meowth flopped down just outside Delia’s garden gate.

“Oh my goodness!” she cried, scrambling to her feet and running to his side. She scooped the Meowth’s massive head into her lap; noticing how hot his fur was to the touch. “Are you alright, Meowth?”

“Huh? Who’s there? Come closer...”

“It’s me, Meowth. Delia. Jessie’s partner.”

“Oh, Delia!” coughed Meowth. “You were always so - hack! - so kind ta me...”

“Have you walked all the way from Celadon City by yourself?”

“Yeah...James was busy for the weekend. Wit his fashion stuff, yanno. He said he didn’t have time to feed me, so I...hack, hack! I wanted to see a friendly face.”

“Well, Jessie’s not home right now --” The pitiful whine from Meowth didn’t so much tug on Delia’s heartstrings as yank them painfully out her chest. “But you can stay with me until she gets back! I have a glass of fresh lemonade chilling in the fridge, you really must quench your thirst after that long walk...”

“Really? You’d do that for lil’ old me-owth?”

“Of course, dear.” Delia set Meowth on his wobbly two feet. “Now, run inside and have a nice long drink. Then, when you’ve cooled off, you can help me pick some razz berries for later.”

“Okay!”

Meowth dashed into the house happily, and Delia tutted under her breath. She loved James - really, she did - but she sometimes wondered if he and Jessie forgot that Meowth was a living creature who needed their care. She couldn’t imagine Ash forgetting to feed Pikachu, after all.

“Yanno, I gotta say, Deels - can I call ya Deels?” Meowth asked, popping another berry into his mouth, “You got real a nice setup, here. All’a this food, just growin’ on your doorstep?!”

“Well,” Delia said, filling up her basket with berries, “it takes a lot of work. But I’m happy the end result is so tasty, Meowth.”

“Oh, yeah; an’ after such a long walk, too, I really - ooh, chezz berries! - I really needed some sustanance. So, whaddaya pickin’ all this food for, anyway?”

“Ash is home, soon. And I’m going to make pasta sauce from scratch, and a cake.” Delia looked out over the horizon; wondering idly what the plume of dust rising from Viridian Forest was. It seemed to be approaching fast. She hoped Jessie and the Pokemon were safe. “I know Pikachu will appreciate a good tomato sauce, and Ash always did love my sponge cakes.”

“Oh. How, uh, how nice. For the twerp.” Meowth chewed thoughtfully on a chezz berry. “Say, uh - d’you think I could maybe stay a lil’ while longer? Maybe, uh, try some of that pasta you was talkin’ about before I go...?

The plume of dust was getting closer. Delia watched it race along the footpath, until a familliar and beautiful and violently angry figure emerged from within it.

“Jessie...?”

“MEOWTH!” Jessie shrieked. “I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU’D GO RUNNING TO DELIA, YOU LITTLE SNEAK!”

Meowth was on his feet as Jessie crashed into the garden gate, Arbok and baby Ekans in hot pursuit. “Hahahaaaa...Jeeeessiiiiee!” he cried; voice breaking, hands held out in front of his body - trying either to placate his friend or protect himself from bodily harm, “Whaddareya doin’ here? Delia said you was out training Ekans in the forest?”

Delia blinked down at Meowth. “I didn’t tell you that,” she murmured.

“I was,” Jessie hissed, “until we met you and James for our picnic. Until you ate all the food and wouldn’t stop blabbing for longer than five seconds. Until James told you that you can’t have cupcakes because sugar is bad for Pokémon --”

“Dat’s a gross oversimplication of events, Jess --”

“And until you --” Jessie picked Meowth up by the face and shook him violently this way and that, “went flouncing off into the forest saying he shouldn’t have brought anything you couldn’t have, and that you didn’t need our stupid picnic anyway! I should have known you’d go to Delia with some sob story, you greedy little freak!”

Meowth kicked out, aiming for Jessie’s face with his long, brown-and-white feet. “At least she’s nice to me - unlike you, ya big nasty mean ol’ lady!”

“What did you call me you --”

“That’s enough.” Delia hated pulling out the Mom Voice, but as both of them fell into guilty silence, she had to admit it gave results. “Jessie, I know you’re angry at Meowth but I wish you wouldn’t hurt him like that.”

“Ha!” cackled Meowth, wriggling out of Jessie’s grasp. “See, Jess? You should be nicer ta me, coz Delia says so --”

“And you.”

Meowth froze.

“You took advantage of my kindness, Meowth. You lied to me and told me James was mistreating you. That really hurt my feelings, and I’m very, very disappointed in you.”

There was a long moment of silence. Then, to Delia’s surprise, Meowth plopped down onto the floor and began to sob. “I-I-I’m sooorryyyyyyyyy...” he wailed, thick wet tears falling down his cheeks. “I didn’t wanna hurtcha feelin’s, but everyone’s so busy and the gang’s all split up an’ you’re so nice an’ I just wanted someone ta be kind ta meeeeeee...”

“Meowth, kindness goes both ways. Now,” Delia pushed the basket of berries into his paws, “you can go wash these for me in the sink, and put them in the fridge until I need them. That would be a good thing to do, to show me how sorry you really are. You want to show me you can be kind?”

“Yeeees...”

“Then scoot.”

“Okaaay...”

Jessie watched her friend head into the house - head bowed, sniffling - with a look of total wonder. “Did you just get Meowth to admit he wants to go straight?”

“Yes,” Delia said, standing up and kissing Jessie on the cheek. “I did.”

#hanamusa #yamujiburo #pokemon #meowth #delia ketchum #team rocket #my best boy forever #donnie may be living in my brain #but Meowth is part of my genetic makeup at this point

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oftenwantedafton · 25 days

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Kismet - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count - 3k

Rating - Explicit

CW - sexual content

Also available on AO3

Dave Miller is waiting for you in the campus parking lot outside of the building you’ve just had your anatomy exam inside.

You can see him leaning against the driver’s side door, his hands shoved into his pockets. Still dressed in his security guard uniform. It’s hot out. You squint against the glare of the sun as you exit, maneuvering your way down the handicapped ramp using the crutches he’d lent you earlier. They’re awkward, a little tricky to get used to, but they do help. Your ankle was actually a lot better today, but you’d also been resting it for awhile now, so you don’t want to push it and ruin the recovery process.

“How did it go?” He greets you when you reach his car.

You draw in a deep breath, then exhale. “I think I did okay. I hope. That was worth a quarter of my grade.”

”I’m sure you did well.” He opens the rear passenger door and you slide the crutches inside across the back seat, followed by your backpack. The vintage luxury sedan had a spacious interior, hailing from an era where things were built bigger, with the intention of showing off, ignoring things like fuel efficiency and compact sizing. Not what you would have envisioned him driving; it just didn’t suit his aesthetic. So at odds with the bike gear, with the sport motorcycle itself.

“So where do you want to go?” You’ve both settled inside the car. The vinyl seats are warm, clinging to the bare skin on the backs of your thighs. You’d worn denim shorts and a tank top today. You don’t know how the older man can stand being so covered up. Maybe something to do with those strange marks he has on him. You want to ask about them, the query nearly forcing its way past your lips on more than one occassion, but you’re still hesitant, uncertain if it was the right time to ask yet.

“You must be tired.” The smudges beneath his eyes still persist. You wonder when the last time he actually got some decent rest was.

“I took a cat nap while you were taking your test. I’m good for now.”

“Let’s go to your house.” You try to make it sound casual, surprising yourself when the words slip out. A little forward, inviting yourself over.

“My house?” A mixture of his own surprise laced with some amusement as well. “On a day like this I thought you’d want to be outdoors.”

“It’s too hot.”

“It’s summer in Utah. It’s always too hot,” he counters.

“Touché.”

“Seriously, though. Where do you want to go?”

You pretend to reconsider, biting your bottom lip, eyes fixing upward. “Mmmm…your house.”

“Okay. If that’s what you really want.” He turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. “Seatbelt on, please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You drag the nylon strap across your chest, shoving the buckle into place. The material digs into your bare shoulder, pressing between your breasts.

“You’re back to work on Friday, right?” He pulls out of the parking lot, heading north out of the city proper. The opposite direction from where you reside.

“Yes.”

“You think you’re going to be okay getting there?”

“I should be good.”

“Ill give you my number just in case. You should have it anyway.”

“Yeah, I should.” He glances over at you, smirking.

You fuss with the radio for a bit, rummaging with the cassette tapes stashed into the console. A lot of music from the eighties. Something else you don’t recognize shoved way in the back. A large plastic cartridge with a faded peeling label that’s water damaged, the paper wrinkled. “What’s this?”

“Eight track. A largely inferior way to listen to music.”

“So why do you keep it?”

“I had no idea that was there, to be honest.” The car rolls to a stop at the next intersection, the traffic light turning red. “Is this what you’re going to do at my house? Snoop through my things?”

“You said to get to know you. So, this is getting to know you.”

“Hmmm.” He doesn’t sound upset, exactly. Mulling the situation over, perhaps. Deciding what he was willing to reveal.

You toss the item back where you found it. “I know what you did.”

Dave’s eyes snap to your face. “What?”

“They got an anonymous donation of an AC unit at the shelter. That was you, wasn’t it?”

Something like relief washes over the guard’s features, the tense shoulders relaxing. “Oh. That. Yes, that was me. Couldn’t have the bun and the others suffering.”

“What did you think I meant?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

Another mystery for you to solve. You tentatively lift each leg off the seat. Sticking already. There was no air conditioning in his car. The windows were rolled down, but with the automobile at a standstill there was no air exchange.

“The downside to vinyl,” he murmurs, seeing your struggles. “There really isn’t an upside. In the winter it’s like sitting on ice.”

“You need a new car.”

“It serves its purpose.”

The light turns green and he shifts his foot from the brake to the gas pedal. At least it was an automatic. You didn’t even know how to drive a standard.

His right hand departs the steering wheel and finds its way to your knee once you’ve left the city behind.

Just a casual reach and drop, that long extremity having no trouble stretching until his fingers close over the bare joint, thumb tracing small circles.

Your body is already reacting. You squirm in your seat, shifting down a little, his hand easing further up with the movement. Now half on bare skin, half on the jean covering. Thumb now worrying at the frayed edges of the hole at the front. Tucking inside. Fingers pressing firmly along your inner thigh. You suck in a deep breath.

You can see the profile of a smile on his features. His eyes never leave the road as his hand meanders further along, stopping just shy of your crotch. Your heart is pounding. Waiting for him to touch the seam there, grind it against you clothed sex.

Instead his hand abandons you, reclaiming its position on the steering wheel and you look at him, mouth open in disbelief.

He shoots you a hurried glance. “What?”

“You know what.”

“There are a lot of turns coming up. I’ll need both hands. We’re almost there,” he adds.

You fold your arms. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Don’t pout.”

“Or what? What are you going to do about it?” Whatever retort he’s readied dies off when you reach over to exact revenge, digging your nails into his thigh. Raking along the inside. You have to lean, you don’t have the length that he does.

“You are…”

“I’m what? What am I?”

He brakes at a stop sign and thumbs the arm of the turn signal even though there are no other cars in sight. The neighborhood looks quiet, a good distance between the houses. Large yards. Lots of trees. Shade. Privacy.

“Unexpected.” He surprises you with how fast he moves, cupping the side of your face and kissing you. Your stomach somersaults, your core throbbing in response. “Addictive,” he adds, kissing you again before he returns his attention to driving.

***

Miller’s house is a three bedroom Garrison with an attached two car garage.

You’re in that garage now, gaining entry once he’d pushed the button on the remote slotted on the sun visor overhead. You see his bike parked inside and a lot of the typical clutter you’d expect. Workbenches. Tools. You’re trying to picture the guard working on a housing project, doing something mundane like mowing the lawn, an expansive front one that rests on an incline, the house set uphill and far back from the road. Finding it impossible to reconcile the image.

There are a few steps into the house. Dave unlocks the door and doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up in his arms again. You laugh, murmuring a little protest that you can manage the task but he persists. You’re carried into a living room and gently deposited onto the nearby couch. It’s dark inside the house. Cooler. A lot of trees surround the property. It’s a relief after the heat outdoors.

“Want something to drink?”

“Yes, that’d be great.” You adjust the pillow beside you, looking around the room while you wait. It’s very modern. Gray and black and white. No pops of color. No personality to reveal what the owner liked. Coffee table devoid of magazines. Bookshelves lacking literature or decor. No pictures on the walls. No plants. It looked like an artist’s unfinished sketch. Waiting to be filled in.

Dave returns with two glasses full of ice submerged in amber liquid. Tea, you realize, taking a sip. “Good,” you say, nodding. He sets a couple of beverage napkins down on the table. There’s already a copious amount of condensation on the side of the glass.

He sits down beside you with a sigh, toeing off his shoes. “You can take yours off if you want. I’m not fussed about where you leave them. And I’m sure you want a break from that bandage.”

You nod, setting your drink down to unlace your shoes, then removing the metal clasps that kept the elastic wrap in place, unwinding the clinging fabric. A little bit of an impression where it had been hugging your skin, but the joint was mostly free of the swelling and redness from before.

You lean back against the cushions, picking up your glass again as you settle back. “Your house is nice. I mean, judging from what I’ve seen of it so far. Empty, though.”

“It’s easier to maintain that way. I don’t need the clutter.” He takes a swallow of his drink. “I’ll give you a more extensive tour when you’ve fully recovered. Unless you want to be carried around,” he adds with a smirk.

“I’m not that crippled. I can limp around pretty well now,” you reply defensively. “What do you do when you’re not working? There’s a lot of stuff in the garage.”

He nods. “Yes. That. I like…building things. I was an engineer once.”

“Really?” You’re surprised. Something else you couldn’t picture him doing. “What do you construct?”

“Oh, this and that. I haven’t completed anything in awhile. I’ve been…occupied.”

“With what?” The cool liquid slips down your throat.

“Some pretty young college girl that came into my path one day.”

You blush at the compliment.

The dark haired man’s drink is already finished. He tucks his thumb and index finger inside of it, tipping it slightly to retrieve one of the melting ice cubes, popping it between his lips.

You can hear him rolling it around on his tongue. The soft click when it collides with his teeth. You can’t stop staring, hypnotized. He sets the glass on the table and rests an elbow on the back of the couch, the fist he makes supporting his head. Watching you. Waiting.

Your half finished drink is back on the table. Your mouth back on his. A little humming noise from him. Satisfaction. Your tongue spears his lips. Chilled from the ice. He offers the remainder to you. Pushing it inside your mouth. That wedge of networked muscles chasing back after it. Relinquishing it. Trading back and forth. You have possession of it now, letting it rest in the curve you create as you offer it back to him. His lips close over your tongue and suck, dragging it back into his own maw.

You’re both breathing heavily. That satisfied smirk is back on his lips again. He’s swallowed whatever remained of the ice, his Adam’s apple shifting with the movement. His eyes are solid black, the rings of gray completely obliterated by the overwhelming dilation of his pupils. There’s a pulse in your sex, beating to match your heart. Every time you’re with him, you find yourself forgetting more and more of the misgivings you’d had earlier. Smothered beneath this layer of desire.

“Ask me something.” His head is propped up on his fist again, back to the casual waiting that you know is a front.

“What’s under this?” You run your fingers over his shirt sleeve. You’re going to ask him now. “The marks. What are they?”

“You want to see them?”

“Yes.”

A pause as he considers. Then that lean form lifts from the couch. Fingers working on the buttons sealing the sleeve cuffs and loosening the knot of his tie. Buckle of pants unfastened, making room at the waist to drag the shirt hem from where it’s tucked inside. The row of buttons down the center now released, pulling each arm out of the sleeves, letting the garment fall to the floor.

You stare at this display of undressing, watching raptly. Your eyes lock onto the scars on his forearms. A pair of rings almost like bracelets encircling his wrists. Circles dotted along each scarred bangle. Jagged lines streaking towards the elbows. Another bracelet ring. More streaks. The rest covered by the undershirt.

“What happened?” You lean forward for a better look, running your fingers lightly down his forearms.

“An accident at work years ago.”

“Yeah, but doing what?”

“A failure in one of the…construction projects.”

He’s still being evasive. “What kind of project?”

“A mechanical suit, of sorts.”

“Are there more scars?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“A lot of them?”

“Yes. Do they bother you?”

You shake your head.

He sits back down and you take another sip of your drink. Dave lifts the glass from your fingers, draining the rest of it. Retrieving another ice cube. Outlining you bottom lip with it as if it was a tube of lipstick. The cold water leaks down your chin, your throat. He licks along that line, pushing you deeper into the cushions at the back of the couch. The fingers holding the ice disappear beneath the neckline of your top, letting it slide down your spine.

“Dave, fuck, that’s cold!” You try to reach the offending object, lifting the bottom of your shirt.

“You’re not, though,” he murmurs, one hand snaking behind to assist you. You can feel the ice drop onto the couch. He doesn’t remove his hand, instead pinching at the hook and eye closures of your brassiere to unfasten it. “You’re so, so hot.” Back at your front now. The ice cube somehow pinched between his fingers again. Slid along your abdomen, making you gasp. He shoves the front of your tank top up, moving the bra with it, exposing your breasts. Now circling your areola, your nipples instantly peaking.

“Dave…” It’s the only coherent word you can form. Your brain is short circuiting, the blood flow shunted elsewhere. There’s water from the melted ice cube all over your torso. Sliding down your ribs and pooling in your umbilicus. You absently try to reach him, any part near his groin you can locate, but he halts you, lapping at your ear before he whispers into it.

“Mmm-mmm. Ladies first.” The waist of your shorts is suddenly looser as he unfastens the button fly and pulls down the zipper. You’re trying to recall what underwear you’re wearing, hoping it’s something cute. You hadn’t really planned on this happening. Not this fast, anyway.

“One of the benefits of riding the bike,” he begins, leaning to retrieve another ice cube, “is that your fingers get a good work out using the brakes, clutch, throttle. A lot of strength built up. Power.” He’s beneath your panties now, his fingers dragging the dissolving frozen object over your clit.

Your spine jerks, your hips lifting up. Bringing him further down the length of your sex. You don’t even recognize the sounds escaping your lips. A calloused thumb circling your clit, middle and ring finger shoving at your entrance, the ice cube tucked firmly between the bridge of his palm. Another spasm. Your wrap your fingers around his forearm, nails digging into the skin. His digits reach so much further than your own. Stretching even more. He massages your g spot with the pads of his fingers. Planting little kisses on your jaw. Watching you with those dark, dark eyes as you writhe and grind against him. The last of the ice gone. The strong pair of fingers inserted into your canal working in earnest, your pussy making obscene noises as it greedily sucks him deeper.

“Is it good?” He knows the answer, of course. He can’t possibly not, with the way your body is responding, the sounds that you’re making, the frantic touches of your hands, your mouth.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp.

“You like my fingers inside this hot cunt of yours?”

“Dave…fuck, yes.”

“Are you going to cum for me like a good girl?”

A whimper. It’s all you can muster. You feel his smile against your neck as his thrusting fingers increase their pace, your unhooded bud flicked mercilessly. Your free hand digs into the pillow now resting against your thigh. It’s so overwhelmingly hot. You’re on fire. Sweating. Spots in front of your eyes, like when you’ve been out in the sun and go indoors, your vision trying to adjust. But it’s all from the man touching you. Burning you. A final searing kiss and touch and you’re there, moaning into his mouth.

His hand remains buried in your sex, resting now, cupping the natural curve, fingers motionless, feeling your walls contract around him, the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you. Softer kisses. Letting you drag air into your lungs in between them. Eventually removing his hand from your panties and you struggle to sit upright.

“That was…um…Jesus, Dave.” He’s got the fingers that invaded you in his mouth now, slowly sucking them clean.

“Delicious.” He grins at you. “Good?”

“Yeah, good. More than good.” You’re still coming down off your high, trying to collect your thoughts. You can still feel the nerves firing in your pussy, in your thighs.

“You want another drink?”

“Definitely.”

“I don’t know how much ice is left. I’ll have to refill the tray.” He winks at you and you shove at his arm. Your touch gentling, stroking down the length. Sated and yet you still want more of him. “I like having you here,” he says quietly, sensing the shift in mood.

“I like being here.” You kiss him.

He moves as if to stand but you tighten your grip on his arm. “The drinks…”

“Can wait.”

A soft smile before he’s back at your mouth again.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #william afton smut #dividers credit @ saradika graphics

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teddynivvy · 15 days

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IM SORRY THE PEARL NECKLACE TED WORE IN THE LAST CHUCKLE SANDWICH EP….

Can you pretty please do a lil smut fic with him and his pearl necklace amor <3

omg ofc i can be i've been dying to talk about it!!! (nsfw, afab!reader)

i can imagine the first time you notice him wearing it he's a little insecure because it's a new thing because of his #fashion era lol. it catches your eye under his t-shirt and your eyes lock onto it immediately.

"that looks good on you," you remark, standing in front of him and taking the time to wrap your finger around the string. "yeah? you like it?" he asks, looking in the mirror and fussing with the jewelry. "i don't know if it's working for me."

"it's working for me," you laugh, kissing his jaw and running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. "oh, yeah? you like it that much?"

your bottom lip is held between your teeth, smiling into the mirror as you admire him. the pearls against his black t-shirt, paired with all of his rings and the gold chain bracelet are making you feel unbelievably attracted to him. his hand comes down to grab your face gently, kissing you roughly and pulling you into him.

next thing you know, he's got you bent over the bathroom counter, your jeans pulled down just enough that he has full access. you're moaning as he drives into you, hearing the loud smacks of skin against skin as you moan his name. you can feel the coolness of his necklace against your neck as he bends down and kisses your neck and ears, cold metal of his rings against your hot skin, his hands holding your hips in place.

he stands you up, taking the time to show you how blissful and fucked out you look in the mirror. he has your hands pulled behind your back, as you arch into him and watch him fuck you. "fuck," he remarks, taking the time to look at you as he pounds you. "so fucking hot," he's groaning now, and you know he's close to cumming.

"you like getting fucked like this?" he growls in your ear. "yes, fuck - yes teddy, i love it," you smile devilishly as his thrusts become faster, your eyes rolling back and feeling his hands come up to palm your tits over your shirt.

"gonna cum."

you squeeze around him, taking his cock expertly as you feel his release warm your insides. his hair is messed from you reaching behind and grabbing it, glasses on the tip of his nose from the sheer power of his thrusts. when you both come down, he pulls out and warms a wash cloth for you to hold to your leaking cunt.

"i guess i should wear the pearls more often."

#chuckle sandwich fanfiction #chuckle sandwich fanfic #chuckle sandwich x reader #ted nivision smut #ted nivision x reader #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison x you #nat writes

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hotfuss · 5 months

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the killers in access magazine, december 2005 [HD]

📷: cover and double page jelle wagenaar, last pic colin lane

#the killers #dave keuning #mark stoermer #ronnie vannucci #brandon flowers #hot fuss #hot fuss era #hf era #hf photoshoot #access magazine #by jelle wagenaar #by colin lane #hq #my stuff

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doverstar · 18 days

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reading your posts about your time watching doctor who reminded me of the first time i discovered doctor who, mainly, the eleventh doctor. i was going through such a tough time, and one day i just decided to watch doctor who to see what all of the fuss was about and started 'the eleventh hour.' it was pure magic to me. everyone has their doctor, and matt smith will always be mine. he was great! i loved how eccentric and warm he could be. i loved how he was just so sweet and kind to all of his companions, and i loved that undercurrent of darkness that was always bubbling under the surface of his character. matt smith was brilliant and i really, really wish they'd bring him back as the doctor in some way. i miss him so.

I so enjoy your blog and I was delighted to get this in my inbox. I loved reading this and picturing how you discovered the show; if anyone else wants to share their own DW experience with me, please take this as a sign! Commiserating over loving and missing the Doctor, feeling like he really is your friend (silly but true), is very cathartic to me. Nine was my first, and so was Rose. I didn't know anything about the show at all when I started in that basement bedroom, went in completely blind. I know what you mean by pure magic! I thought Christopher Eccleston would be the Doctor forever, and I was totally in love with him. I thought he was the reason everyone loved the show (I hadn't even seen Matt Smith's face yet, that's how in the dark I was at the time!). When he changed into David Tennant, I'll never forget how strong my feelings were. The revulsion and despair were huge. I was a lil teenager wrapped up in a zebra-patterned blanket downstairs, outraged that the 40-something with the big ears had transformed into hot young hair man. When Harriet Jones pleaded for the Doctor's help and Rose started crying in the kitchen, I was a mess. No television show that I can recall inspired in me such realistic emotions before Doctor Who, not like that! It took me so long to get used to Ten, and even now I still look at him and remember how hard it was to get used to him. Felt like someone had forced me to move homes or something. And when I finally got caught up to the show on live television, Matt Smith was finishing off his first season, and oh, he was so easy to love. Even as an adult now, his variation feels so safe. I love everything about him, the childish energy, the old man movement, the rhyming way he talks, and when he's angry, he reminds me of Eccleston. I'm like, That's him! That's the Doctor! I rewatch that era for Matt alone. When Clara looks at him regenerating and whispers "Please don't change," I cry every time. She's right. We were all saying it. Also reading your I miss him so totally made me stop and actually get emotional too - that says it all about the Doctor, about that time in my life (yours too, sounds like!) Eccleston to Smith. I miss him so.

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simverses · 8 months

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WFS Nostalgia Part 5: The Bathroom + Part 6: Bathroom Walls & Floors

This is a large set with bathroom items for your posh mansion or apartment. Or maybe for a nice hotel? (Not my usual era, I know, but I wanted to have the complete set. Style is Art Deco, with no fuss.)

The set consists of:

- bathtub

- sunken hot tub

- WC

- sink

- deco frame for sink

- 2 different showers, one for corner placement

- 4 end tables/shelves, 2 of them with deco towels, 2 empty with lots of slots

- ceiling lamp

- wall lamp

- divider - towel hanger

- metal floor deco (rug)

- 4 different plants in pots

- 2 hanging bamboo plant (wall deco)

I also converted the matching walls and floors, in shiny marble.

Based on conversions from Sims 2 - original by Wood for Sims.

Download WFS Nostalgia Part 5: The Bathroom (Curseforge)

Download Part 6: WFS Nostalgia Bathroom Walls & Floors Curseforge)

#sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims historical #ts2 to ts4 #sims 4 wfs #sims 4 buybuild

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cautionzine · 8 days

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We have some big news coming tomorrow! To celebrate, we want to remind everyone of the very cool exclusives we organize for each volume.

For Volume 3, we created the definitive oral history of The Killers’ music video canon. We bridged together multiple eras of @thekillers music videos by interviewing directors from Hot Fuss era to Pressure Machine. One of those directors was @dannydrysdaledirector who provided incredible stories, photos, and a video describing his experience working with The Killers. You can find out more about Danny’s experiences with The Killers in Volume 3, which will be back on sale imminently. Here is a video exclusive Danny generously shared with us for the Caution! audience.

Danny’s first collaboration with the band was in February 2008 at a barbershop in Las Vegas with Mike Tyson. Here is a snippet of Mike inviting the band out for milkshakes after the shoot.

Make sure you have post notifications on for us as we have many things to share with you starting with this weekend. We can’t wait to build the world of Volume 4 with you and @thekillers!

#the killers #mike tyson #brandon flowers #boxing #las vegas #mr brightside #hot fuss

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darby-draws · 1 month

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@marscats37 when did they realize they may or may not have a thing™ for each other ? (and who realized first ?)

Thanks for asking this Mars! It's a bit long, covers a lot of their history. (But it could have been longer!! I've edited it down perfectly of course.)

Gabriel and Felipe have a tricky past of being in a bit of a Will They Won't They situation. They've actually known each other for a while. (They met like 5 years before "current timeline" so thats probably 6 years before they are like actively Dating™)

Gabriel: 20, (not even he should have been at the club age. Wow.) Works at a laundromat, usually at odd hours. Not much confidence in himself, even if he seems put together don't trust him he's only 20 and faking it. I think his narcolepsy is making him fall asleep inconveniently pretty frequently at this era. (<- and that embarrasses him even though he can't help it) Coping badly with that. Felipe: 22. Works for his dad's pool business cleaning pools in the summer, but has the sidegig of being an unemployed sk8r boi. A simple man, please, no need to make relationships complicated! (<-doesn't know he knocked someone up a year ago.)

Felipe is actually the first of the core General Menace friend group that Gabe meets. They never really hung out or spent much time together directly. Felipe would loiter around Gabe's work sometimes and they liked seeing each other! (<- this is when Felipe thinks they could and should have A Thing™ together. Wishful thinking... His friends notice this and tease him for having the hots for Laundromat Boy.) They Almost hookup once in this early era. Unfortunately due to circumstances of Gabriel's narcolepsy and his easy-to-embarrass attitude, they don't hook up, because he fell asleep instead and then was, embarrassed. It's like, fine, no biggie? BUt he's in a weird headspace and he kinda brushes away the thought of potentially hooking up again. He's been goin through a lot lately, maybe this isn't the right time, etc etc. They both think "okay, so that's not happening..." (Unfortunate, but also they were really young its probably for the best)

Next time they get close to having A Thing™ together, is at the start "current" canon timeline. General Menace, the band that Gabriel is in has just formed. He's gained a bit of confidence over the years, so he invites Felipe to one of their shows. They can hang out after! ("hang out"? 👀 thinks Felipe) Yeah hang out. With the band. Unfortunately due to circumstances: Gabriel spending all his energy drumming, Sammy getting introduced to Felipe and hitting it off, and Gabe spending a little too much time with his roommate and ex Eve, they both think "this probably isn't happening, again". Sammy is very affectionate, like Felipe is. And Felipe likes things to be simple, no fuss. So since Gabe is not as direct with feelings, and Sammy literally Sat in His Lap. After JUST Meeting. There was an easy answer to where his attention was going tonight. WHOOPS~! Gabe immediately knows he should have been more direct he messed that up didn't he... But doesn't wanna cause drama with the band or his friends, if Sammy and Felipe like each other, hey mannnn that's great! Awesome! 😬 (<- This is his realization that they could have had A Thing™ going. But they don't so he's being brave with his feelings.) (He saw that they had chemistry together and feels like it would be Bad and Selfish of him to bring up his Own desires. But literally if he said something right away, Felipe woulda been right there with him, Sammy wouldn't have gotten so attached, etc. It would've been great! But! Don't tell him that, he didn't knowwww!!!)

On Sammy and Felipe's side of things, Sammy is super eager, clingy and in the happy honeymoon phase, and while Felipe is having lots of fun with this, he also thinks, hey we were just hooking up right, we weren't Dating™ right? so he does still keep his flirty attitude towards Gabriel. WHich is FINe says Sammy, who said that they aren't dating so of course he can still flirt with other people (<- didn't realize it would be within his own friend group)

Gabriel and Felipe hookup a few months after Sammy and Felipe started hooking up. (In a hotel room, with Sammy sleeping in the next bed over shh shh its fine.) It's fun, and Gabriel's finally like, opening up about his wants and desires! (FINALLY.) Felipe's directness and his own openness with wanting Gabe makes Gabe comfortable to get into that discussion. They start out casual too, just like with Sammy, no need to put much pressure on what this relationship is yet, just having fun with it!

They start getting more serious slowly over time, just hanging out more and getting comfier together. Felipe introduces Gabriel to his other friend group, and invites him to that groups Big Annual Camping Get Together, which is probably a pretty big turning point in the relationship. (His friends are surprised: "You're still into Laundromat Boy?!? WHOA!") At the same time, Sammy and Felipe have been weaning off their hookups together, they're on good terms and they really don't want it to get messy with complicated emotions. Sammy's happy for Gabe n Felipe, honest! (No matter how he phrases this he never sounds genuine, sometimes on purpose for comedic value because he knows he's clingy... but, really, he loves his friends, I promise. 🥺)

Over some time, the friend groups dynamic changes a bit. Sammy and Felipe become roommates together, Eve and Steph start dating and are talking about moving in together too. It gets Gabe thinking. "Hey... Why am I still living with my ex, and not my boyfriend now. Whoag. My boyfriend... 💞💖💘" And this starts the era of them like, ACTUALLY Dating, Living Together, etc etc.

It took idk six long years for them to explore some things, figure themselves out and mature, and finally get to this point. But they're finally getting things where they want!!! And I think that's awesome! 👍

#asks #original characters #oc talk #general menace #gabriel #felipe #sammy #<-hes here too! :)#anyway theres still more I could say of course but this at least touches a bit on each era #the Finally Officially Together era is pretty short because thats kinda. developing. but we still have a lot of thoughts about that too #its just the easiest one to not ramble on about yet because the others feel like you need backstory and context built up #but i love the finally together era. Gabe comes out to his family which could be a big long post in itself I bet.#I love them your honor

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