#I grew to love his beard so much I cannot believe it

[omaano]

Touchy subject

"The 501st was one of the best legions during the war. I've lost a lot of good men over the years - some of them would have given even you Mandos a run for your credits. And my general... My general was a good man too, but that's enough of that, I thought you were too old for bedtime stories by now."

Din just tried to figure out what the colour of the clones' armor paint meant, and why he's never heard Rex mention his CO during all the wartime stories and lectures; whereas he's already got to meet Wolffe and his general and even heard Cody mention his every once in a blue moon. (Special thanks to @witchydom for helping with the "dialogue" :3)

The rest of my Star Wars meets Hades AU project is here

I'll take a bit of your time to give a bit of an explanation why I decided to put Rex in Skelly's spot:

During a playthrough when I was looking for screenshots to use as backgrounds the first thing that greeted me was Zagreus calling Skelly "Captain" upon entering the armoury, or whatever that chamber is called. And that really decided it, let's be honest. Rex is Captain, and that is the Captain's spot. End of story.

Reading "still got it" by qigiined even before I got into watching TCW was such a personality defining experience (seriously, this fic lives forever rent free in my brain), that I really had no other option but to put the few clones that I'm willing to work into this AU somewhere around home base (the covert) - so you can guess where Cody and Wolffe are situated. Or will be, hopefully soon enough. Rex needs to be able to hang out with Cody, that's just how it is. (Rebels and TBB canon who?)

Rex deserves to teach some uppity Mando bounty hunters and other warriors who think too much of themselves a few lessons in humility and some crafty tricks. I think it would be very good for him.

As a throwaway note since we are already under the read more section, I've been thinking about sigils and keepsakes (trinkets) and cthonic companions (I know that over a year ago I inaccurately but very self indulgently designed one for Din, Boba and Cobb, that is not the point now) and while Cody can have one shaped like Boga, and Wolffe can obviously get a stuffed loth wolf (and Bo-Katan a very squishy owl)... I have no idea what shaped companion Rex could have. If anyone has any suggestions and would love to share it with me, I'd be very grateful!

#captain rex #rex #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #tcw fanart #sw tcw #my art #hades au #star wars fanart #old man rex #star wars rebels #sw rebels #I grew to love his beard so much I cannot believe it #these two gave me so much grief but in the end I think I managed to pull them together #old man rex somewhat even looks like boba too which makes me really relieved I'm not gonna lie #but also boba looks so messy in comparison to these later drawings when I actually know what I'm doing orz #also new pocket rex look at him! #but not too closely please he is a little sketchy

[drewsbuzzcut]

Big Boy And The Hot Tub

Jeremy Swayman x Lyla Blair

A ‘The Masterminds’ small fic

Warnings: slightly alluded to sex, some kissing and I think that’s all (this was quickly written and slightly edited sorry)

Takes place during the 2024 offseason

“What, big boy?” Lyla cocks an eyebrow up at Jeremy as he slowly makes his way over to her.

They’re inside a hot tub, enjoying the warm water and the bubbles that surround them. Originally Jeremy was seated across from Lyla, but soon his hands come in contact with her thighs as he opens up her legs and fits his hips between them. He delicately guides her legs to wrap around his waist as he has multiple times before.

Despite the warm water pooling around their bodies, Lyla feels goosebumps unleash all over her the moment she’s touched by her boyfriend. A harsh shiver rips through her body, moving her closer to him. Her bikini clad breast press against his bare chest and her arms loop around his neck, fingers finding their way in his hair.

“I love you,” he nudges his nose against hers, crowding her space but it’s no big deal to her. If crawling under your lover’s skin was a thing, Jeremy would be doing it.

“I love you,” she says with a lovesick grin, eyes sparkling and hands cupping his face. Her nails scratch at his beard, further allowing him to relax. Lyla leans back and closes her eyes, trying not to become distracted by the butterflies roaring in her tummy.

His face goes into the crook of her neck, wiggling around to tickle her with his beard. She lets out a small shriek, body withering against his, but she doesn’t dare try to pull away. No, his warmth is the best comfort she’s ever come to know.

“Jeremy,” he laughs, full bellied, in sync with her pounding heart.

“I love your little giggle,” he kisses her irritated skin, feeling overwhelmed with pride when she melts into him. He’s the only one who can get that reaction out of her.

“You’re the only one who can make me giggle like that,” she peers into his eyes, something a lot like lust and adoration swimming in her orbs. A smug smirk flashes over his face. Of course he's the only one.

They let the water lap at them, drowning in a comfortable silence and the low tune of the music flowing through the speaker. She looks down, a single finger dotting the random moles on his arms. She knows Jeremy like the back of her hand, so she really didn’t have to look where she’s touching him. Another smile flips her lips up, so amazed and excited that she’s getting to experience the love of her life’s hometown.

Alaska is Lyla’s new favorite place on earth. Everything has been sweeter and more convincing that Jeremy is her person. She knows that she’ll be thinking of this trip for the rest of her life.

“Today was fun, baby. I enjoyed learning how to fish,” Lyla whispers and caresses his head as he nuzzles into her.

He’s nosing at the side of her face, the tip of his nose stroking her cheek to elicit another round of giggles from her. His lips ghost around her jaw and leave faint kisses on the skin.

Jeremy only hums in response. He’s too busy pawing at her exposed form. The scent of her sweet perfume still resides on the dip of her collarbone -where she spritzed it this morning- and it keeps him grounded.

“I can’t believe you grew up here. It’s so beautiful,” Lyla awes, looking over Jeremy’s shoulder at the breathtaking view.

She’s met with the smacking noises of his lips repeatedly pecking her cheek. She smiles cheekily, a red flush dusting her features.

“Oh my gosh! I cannot wait for tomorrow. Your family is so sweet, so I am very much looking forward to spending some time with them,” the girl gasps, body popping up in excitement and her eyes growing wide. Jeremy continues to hold her to him, a grin painting on his face. He absolutely loves the tiny bikini Lyla chose to wear, just for him. Her breasts bounce with her movement, pulling him under hypnosis.

She’s met with more kisses being delivered below her ear. Her heart flutters at his endless display of affection, although she isn’t sure what spurred it on. Not that she’s complaining.

“I’m,” a kiss is pressed to her chest. “So happy,” a kiss is pressed to her neck. “You’re here,” a kiss is pressed to her jaw. “With me,” Jeremy finishes his prolonged sentence with a mind tingling kiss to Lyla’s lips.

Her eyebrows rise in delight, eyes closing in utter bliss. Her body feels on fire from the inside out, and it’s not due to the temperature of the water.

Her hands glide over his shoulders, her anchor so she won’t float away. His tongue pushes into her mouth, wrapping around her own. He sets his hand on her throat, keeping her pressed to him as he consumes her.

Despite initiating the heated lip lock, Jeremy is the first to pull away with a tug of Lyla’s bottom lip gripped between his teeth. A small whimper escapes her, her hands connecting behind his neck to pull him into another kiss. Using her upper body strength, she pushes him back to the other side of the tub and straddles his lap. Her fingers grip his curls and she pulls his head back, tongue devouring his mouth.

“I love you, my beautiful girl,” he says into their kiss.

His eyes are a shade darker, but he looks so enticing- especially with the way his hair is disheveled and lips are puffy.

“I love you, big boy. Thank you for having me here. It’s really lovely,” she whispers, her eyes crinkling up with her big smile. Lyla doesn’t think she’ll ever stop smiling and she’s perfectly fine with that, because when she looks at herself in the mirror, she’ll be able to recall each beautiful memory that lies within her smile lines.

Their moment of contentment and sharing a loving gaze is interrupted by Jeremy lifting both their bodies out of the water. Lyla goes over his shoulder with a loud smack delivered to her ass. Her low moan fuels a deep hunger in the pit of her hockey player boyfriend’s stomach. A hunger that they’re about to indulge in. Lyla really loves Alaska.

a/n: Enjoy this little idea I had in my head!!

#lyla x jeremy #oc!singer x jeremy swayman #jeremy swayman #nhl imagine #nhl fic

[missezramay]

ted lasso, post-finale thoughts.

I went into the finale thinking yeah, if the writing serves, I can accept any outcome even if it's not exactly what I want. Instead, I was hit with a plethora of mixed emotions I didn't expect to have. Confusion, anger, hurt, annoyance, small bursts of joy in between, and just deep sadness. Almost 20 hours later and I'm still incredibly dissatisfied and processing. For the most part, finales should provide a feeling of celebration and relief. I... don't feel any of that.

I'm just really trying to pinpoint why I'm so sad.

Of course everything inevitably has to come to an end. Of course Ted was always going to reunite with his kid. Of course it's not about winning or losing. Of course Tedbecca can remain platonic if that was always the plan. Of course that's the way life goes, but...

For a show (and this season particularly) that constantly encouraged us to 'believe' and 'hope' in the idea that 'everything will work out', all those 75 minutes did was take me on an unsettling, emotional journey for no concrete reason other than to mess with the audience (the opening scene was just adding salt in the Tedbecca wound I've had since S2). Because everything in a macro sense, "worked out". But the WAY it "worked out" does not sit well with me?? And it's supposed to? For a lot of people (on Reddit/Facebook, lol), it was enough?? Richmond not technically winning and Ted leaving like that without so much as a tear? What am I missing??

When I tell you I'm trying to embrace the good parts, I'm really trying. Yes to KBPR & the women's team, Yes to Colin kissing his fella, Yes to Rebecca & Mae & the guys owning the club, Yes to Roy becoming Manager.

So... why am I still so upset? Hmm, let's see.

The boys' musical number? The cutest. Ted didn't think so.

Nate's apology? Heartbreaking. Ted didn't bat an eyelash.

Rebecca begging twice for Ted to stay? Ted, absolute silence.

Beard staying/getting married in London to his toxic gf? Comic relief, haha, fine. Except Ted wasn't there as Best Man.

Don't even get me started on the huge disservice to the Roy/Keeley/Jamie triangle.

Now listen, I get that he misses Henry & Henry misses his dad. I'm not that cold. A father/son's love is important. It was always the catalyst for this show; for him to work on himself so he can be a better father unlike the one he grew up with. That's fine.

But on this particular week. His last week with his Richmond family. There was NO sense of him being sad to leave them. He can be sad about missing Henry but he can ALSO be sad about leaving. No, he just completely checked out. He let everyone pour out their hearts (Hannah's getting her third Emmy, mark my words) to him, and he just stone-faced the entire time.

THIS DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME.

The argument is that he was internally processing, he was overwhelmed, he was trying to distance himself so it would hurt less. Fair points, okay. But this is a television show, moreover, A FINALE. TV characters, while relatable, are heightened versions of ourselves, there so we can better process our emotions and learn to handle things better in our real lives. Ted deserved MORE dialogue and displaying MORE emotion than whatever this was.

We're never going to see him again. We're over here crying along with Rebecca, Nate & Beard, but he didn't sob once. Even though he spent three years building a family with them. I even thought, hey at least he left his legacy with Trent's book but newsflash, he wanted his name taken off that too! Complete erasure.

I just feel so robbed of better moments. Like there were nice moments here and there. But they could've been BETTER. Honestly, Nate & Rebecca's breakdowns were close to perfection, so much love there. But the lack of dialogue and Ted not reciprocating? Broke ME.

I just cannot. understand. this. choice.

Massive sigh. I'm just truly baffled by the way everything wrapped up and not getting the satisfied feeling that one half of the viewership got. Maybe I'm in the minority, but that means something. It carries weight. Also, for a "three-season arc" that was planned well in advance, why all the rewrites and parallels and fakeouts... it's just cruel. But as the theme says (and maybe this was a warning all along), yeah, I guess this might well be it.

This show has given us so much and the last season flailed for the most part. I don't want to disrespect the show by being negative and cynical (looks like I failed!!) or cast blame on anyone in particular. The cast/crew are amazing people and I'll be grateful for being a part of the journey but I'm just so sad and this feeling sucks and I will never get over it.

Going to miss them. x

#ted lasso #spoilers #thoughts #finale #text post #tedbecca #roykeeley #jason sudeikis #hannah waddingham

[not-a-matopoeia]

HEAD CANNON HILLS I PERSONALLY CHOOSE TO DIE ON:

Fight me (lol)

Bruce Wayne

Gray Hairs are mostly in and around his temples and beard- also he won’t dye it

Asexual but not sex repulsed (it just feels right)

Definitely experienced with makeup, sure to cover bruises and stuff but also he definitely had a phase where he wore eyeliner cause why not

Autistic

Dick Grayson

Crooked nose

Speaks some Roma still but has forgotten most of it, which makes him upset

People deffo thought he was gay all through school, and they weren’t wrong…or right (he’s some form of queer)

Gymnastics teacher as a side job

ADHD

Oldest Daughter SyndromeTM

Jason Todd

I think that Jason runs a book club with a bunch of middle aged women, and they talk about classic lit

Theater Kid (gay)

Good with kids, reluctantly

Has freckles

Hair is caused by Marie Antoinette syndrome

Struggled with body dysmorphia after being revived

Keeps all his receipts (they’re in a box in the kitchen) and is stingy with money

Tim Drake

Wears a Medical Identification bracelet for the spleen thing (it’s recommended guys I looked it up cause I’m normal)

Has acne

Chased Batman and Robin around with that damn camera (I fucking love this)

Has anxiety

Bisexual (not a HC but I thought I’d mention it)

Would eat the coffee grounds

Listens to video game osts

(Bring the skateboard back)

Damian

Strong nose

Just very strong features generally

Giggles, or full on cackles but there’s no In between

I think it’s be cute if he became an art therapist or a vet

Autistic

Cass

Cuts her own bangs, they look horrible<3

Lesbian

Tired to dye her hair once (with Steph and Babs)never again

Steph

Grew up in crime ally (idk where she lived so I choose to believe this- this could also be the truth, again I cannot remember rn)

Freckles

Butterfly Clips

Bisexual

Curly hair

Alfred

Had chased multiple people off of Wayne Manors premises with his shotgun ‘

Got second place in a chili cook off one time and still hasn’t recovered

Extra:

Dick and Jason are big into Taylor Swift, Jason because I think he’d like ballads/the lyrics in songs and Dick because he’s Dick

Selina Kyle actually likes the Robins, and her and Steph got along well

Jason and Steph have really thick Gotham accents, which I like to think is like a Jersey accent, Jason’s shows up more when he’s upset in any capacity, Steph’s is always there and was never trained out of her

Dick has this weird accent where it’s very clearly not anything American, but it’s not not American, and it’s because he moved so much and was around people woth so many different accents that his voice never settled on one

Damian talks to himself in Arabic- Jason knows a bit of it

Cass is a messy eater (this isn’t cannon is it?)

I think it’s be funny to imagine Tim, Cass and Steph going to High School together

Steph was that one girl in the Cookie Monster pjs in high school, and Tim was like this weird goth/skater kid

#dc comics #batman #batfam #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #headcannons #this is all lighthearted btw #so like if you are like wtf that’s stupid or incorrect and completely disagree then cool #I’m just here to be a nerd #goof off #and have a good time #so yeah (thumbs up) #there’s probably more #but it’s 12am and I’m tired #college is exhausting #like why and I’m so tired all the da #time now #I need a nap every 3 hours I feel like #wtf #anyway

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Sick Ned high on milk of the poppy. He has no filter and can’t stop flirting with Cat even in front of poor maester luwin.

Maester Luwin has once again been exposed to things he would rather not be exposed to, Ned has an unknown sickness/injury and Cat is tired. I cannot emphasise this enough; enjoy!

Maester Luwin had decided he would not die very quickly. There would be pain, or would take time to make a recovery, though in the end he would have his health and there was no danger to his life.

Therefore Catelyn did not worry for him particularly much. Of course she was unhappy with the state of her husband and felt his pain deeply, she wanted nothing but for him to be well again. Though she did not have the time to think of him. With Ned indisposed many of his duties passed to her, so there was much to occupy her thoughts with.

Though she took the time to visit him whenever she could. Most of the time he was asleep, then she merely sat at his bedside. Embroidered, mended clothing, read a book. That day was different, she had been told he was awake and had asked for her.

Her lord had asked for her and so she had put aside what she was doing and gone to him. It would be good to see those eyes of his for once, and hear his voice.

“Cat!” Ned said when she came into his chamber.

His gaze was somewhat foggy, he seemed to have trouble focusing on her. Still she had to smile when she saw him. He was right there all the time, though she missed him all the same. Missed having him with her more often.

Maester Luwin stood by Ned’s bedside. He said nothing, though nodded towards her.

“Good day, my love” she said to Ned.

He smiled back at her, looking surprisingly joyful for a man that should have been in terrible pain.

When she came to sit on the edge of the bed his smile grew even wider.

“How are you feeling?”

She reached towards him to touch his cheek. His beard had grown rather unruly, she would have to see to that.

“Better now when you’re here.”

He made himself more comfortable against the pillows, then took her hand and brought it from his cheek to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Are you not in pain?”

Officially the question was directed towards Ned, though she looked at Maester Luwin. Ned, of course not understanding that, began mumbling something incoherently.

“I give him as much of the milk of the poppy as I dare, my lady” Maester Luwin told her. “He should not be–“

Suddenly Ned’s words became more coherent, leading the poor maester to trail off into silence.

“I need no milk of the poppy when I have you.”

Catelyn squeezed his hand, letting her thumb run over the back.

“That is sweet, my dearest, though it would be good if you did not interrupt Maester Luwin.”

“I take no offence, my lady” Luwin assured her with a nod.

Both of them were well aware it was the milk of the poppy that was speaking, not Ned. He was not acting like himself.

Catelyn turned back to Ned.

“I was told you asked for me. Do you have something you wish to say?”

He blinked slowly, as if trying to remember what it was he wanted. She expected he would ask of the children or the grain stores or something else that had appeared in his mind. It was probably not doing him well to be indisposed and of no use.

“You’re beautiful” was what he actually said.

“Thank you, though what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Perhaps trying to get it out of him was an impossible task, though she could try. If he had wanted her to come there had to be something.

“I miss you” he continued.

She was with him more often than he was aware of.

“You should be better soon, then you will see me all the time.”

Then he would never be rid of her.

“I dream of you. What the maester gives me makes me dream.”

Maester Luwin cleared his throat.

“It’s very common with this–“

Once again Ned began talking over him and Catelyn could not help but sigh.

“It makes me ache for you.”

“Ned” Catelyn said firmly.

She did her very best to give him a stern look, though she believed it was ruined by that she was also a little amused by it.

When she glanced at Maester Luwin she saw that he had found a very interesting spot in the ceiling that he was studying.

“I want your skin–“

It was her turn to interrupt him, though she did so by placing her free hand over his mouth as she suspected he would not have listened to her otherwise.

“Oh hush with you, that is most improper.”

Ned raised his eyebrows at her, then she felt a sharp pain in the palm of her hand, making her immediately pull it back again.

“Did you bite me?” she exclaimed.

It had happened before, of course, though never in the palm of her hand. And never when they were not alone.

“Just a nip” Ned solemnly informed her. “You have never complained before.”

“Do forgive him, Maester Luwin, he is not acting like himself” she sighed.

Maester Luwin was not yet finished studying his finding in the ceiling, and he did not look at her as her answered.

“Lord Stark is affected by the poppy milk.”

The ridiculousness of it all struck her as she once again looked at her bedridden husband. It would be good to have him back on his feet again, she hoped it would be soon. And she prayed he would then continue to be in good health.

“I will leave you now as you so clearly cannot handle my presence” she chuckled.

Never before had she seen her lord husband pout, and she believed she would never see it again.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead, felt his fingers ghost over her cheek as she did so.

“Come back soon” he whispered.

“I will be back when I have time.”

When he was once again asleep and unaware of that she was there.

Maester Luwin did have a look of relief on his face as she nodded towards him and left the room. Perhaps he had tried to hide it, but she saw. And she understood it.

Catelyn met Robb not far away from there.

“How is Father? Can I visit him?”

“Perhaps you should wait” she told him. “He’s rather up on the clouds, the milk of the poppy makes his head very foggy.”

And his tongue very loose.

#i’m in an unreasonably good mood because of this #what getting to put their favourite little maester in situations does to a person #catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #maester luwin #ned x cat #my drabble

[inevitably-johnlocked]

I've seen a couple of posts from you and some other people that John might be homoromantic bi.

Is it because he's only went out with women in canon for sex and that he's had romantic feelings for Sherlock (and possibly Sholto in the past)?

I'm curious.

(He doesn't seem to be in love with Mary that much either.)

Hey Nonny!

Ah, it's a popular interpretation because of that, exactly. I personally read him that way, because, in BBCS at least, he fails spectacularly at forming any believable relationships with women (and don't get me started on Mary, LOL. I'm sorry, but I STRONGLY believe she trapped him with a fake baby – I think John only went with the marriage because he was pissed off at Sherlock for lying to him) but seems to form REALLY strong attachments to men in authoritative (in his eyes) positions. And yes I also mean Lestrade here too. You cannot tell me that John did put out his feelers for Lestrade when they first met, LOL. BUT John fell RIDICULOUSLY hard for Sherlock, and through context clues and the mirroring of Sholto-to-Sherlock, that John didn't fall hard for Sholto too. There's clues in the episode that their falling out happened after Sholto's accident.

I mean... John GRIEVED for Sherlock like a widower. He was "just getting over" Sherlock when he met Mary (who I think was a plant to get Sherlock to come back, by the way). That was THREE YEARS. John "grieved" for Mary for like... a couple months maybe?? Yeah, he didn't give two flying figs about her, sorry. EVEN IN CANON, Mary is RARELY mentioned and is speculated to have been a beard to keep ACD from suffering the same fate as his friend Wilde [THIS LINK ALSO].

This is a topic I love talking about because sexuality is so interesting to me, given my constant re-discovering of my own self. AND because the characters in the show grew up in the same period I did (early 80's and 90's, so Cusp Gen-Xers/Millennials), it makes SO much sense to me that a lot of John's anger and trust issues come from internalized homophobia and misogyny, and he really didn't open up until he became close to men in his life that he respected and admired and treated him with the in-kind respect and kindness. And I just really relate to them so much... it's probably why this show resonated with me so hard and absolutely why my scary journey of Sudden Realization™ happened hahah.

I genuinely believe that John wants to form a fulfilling relationship, but for him, his internal struggle is that he just CANNOT love women no matter how hard he tries – this is a lot of why people joke that John's a horn-dog... he doesn't care who gets his dick wet, just that he gets it. But at the end of the day, I think his internalized issues keep him from accepting that he LOVES Sherlock fiercely, and it's WHY he struggled so hard with Sherlock's death. I mean, after a certain point he gave up dating because Sherlock GAVE him everything he truly wanted. The women in his life were just to get the sex he wasn't getting from Sherlock, LOL. There's also a REALLY old speculation within the fandom that the trip to New Zealand that John took with Sarah went bad because he called out Sherlock's name during sex... soooo yeah.

Anyway, check out these meta from people who are on the Bi spectrum that can dissect John better than me. I recommend the MOST this thread about Harry and John possibly being twins, and how that is relevant to her being a mirror for John in BBCS. People have commented on it with anecdotes from other bi people about their experience with biphobia in the queer community and in the 80s and 90s, and how in this day and age people seem to forget that any smattering of being gay was met with disdain.

Meta Links to Prove John’s Bisexuality

Meta Links to Sexuality posts for the characters

Closeted John: Growing Up in a Homophobic 80’s/90’s (Not Mine)

is it any wonder John is closeted (Not Mine)

The Way John Looks at Sholto (John’s Bisexuality)

John’s Past and his Bisexuality

So Why Is John Gay when He Says He’s Not? (Irene Clap-Back)

Where Does “Three Continents” Thing Come From?

John’s Attracted but In Denial?

Did Sherlock Know John was Bi?

John Could’ve Been A Real Representation of Bi People

John’s Cheating

AND let's also not forget John's a military man, and while I'm not 100 on how the British military functions, I feel like they also had a "don't ask, don't tell" policy like the American and Canadian militaries did pre-2000's. So. Yeah. AND with the assumption John's parents were homophobic with context clues via Harry and the lack of his entire family from his wedding, a lot of Bi people in the 80's and 90's just "chose to be straight" to avoid being eviscerated. It's a horrific reality that still exists today, sadly.

I love my little bi-disaster John, and you can pry that headcanon from my cold, dead body, LOL.

#steph replies #john's sexuality #sexuality in sherlock #bisexual john #bisexuality #john's just getting bi #homoromantic john #i LOVE talking about sexuality #it helps me learn more everyday #who is john watson #sherlock meta

[loveisfriendship]

Leaving Breadcrumbs behind [11/?]

Author’s Note: Hello all, after ages I have come back to writing. I feel like my brain fog is lifting slowly but surely. I have made some life changes, like working out more but also I stopped taking my contraception. And holy shit, my mind and my body are changing. I cannot describe it another way than my brain fog lifting. And suddenly there are words flying out of my fingers again.

And while rereading this story I have realized that I switched the perspective at some point without realizing :D But it feels more natural like this. And let’s not talk about time lapses and where everyone ends up and if its realistic. I am in too deep to make it right :D

I hope the tag list is still up to date and I haven’t missed anyone. If so, please send me message.

It feels good and relaxing to write again. And I am in desperate need of a hobby again.

Anyway…

Enjoy.

Love,

Lis

Previously….

“You stupid thing. What did you do?” he asks as he cups your face in his hands smiling at you and you immediately tear up.

“A lot. And it cost me a lot as well.” You cry, as he embraces you in his arms and you just cry.

You two stayed like that for a while. On the one side you are relieved that you have reached your brother and that he is alive. And he can walk, so he is not as bad in shape as you thought. On the other hand you cry even more about how you reached him in the first place.

He pulls back and cups your face in his hands again, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“I can’t believe you are here.” He says and smiles at you. You smile back and also raise your hands to his head. You go through his hair and look into the eyes you have missed so much.

“I can’t believe you are alive.” You say, going over the beard that grew, indicating just how long he must be captured. But the mention of his being alive makes his face form a confused look.

“What do you mean alive?” he asks as he helps you stand up to your feet. You dust yourself off and take a look around the room. A small window and sand everywhere, but nothing else. Thick concrete walls surround you and a heavy and rusty metal door behind you. You focus on the person in front of you again and look him up and down. He still looks beaten and has aged a lot. He is thin and completely out of his SEAL shape. But he can stand and walk and talk and that is important.

“I thought you were dead. We all did. After we split on that mission… Even the Nacy pronounced you dead. We couldn’t find you, and believe me I tried everything I could. But there was no trace from you.” You say and send him a sad smile, suppressing the urge to cry again and fall in his arms. You need to focus. There will be enough time later to catch up…maybe.

“Really? That’s why I have been stuck all this time here?” he asks, realizing the impact of your words.

“Yes, I’m so sorry JJ. If I would have known you were still alive… I would have never stopped looking.” You answer, taking his hands into yours. He grabs them and looks at them.

“Were you married?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you. You heart stops a beat at the word married.

“No…” you gulp, taking a deep, shaky breath. “But I was engaged until yesterday.” You whisper, looking at your hand and realizing what he saw…

The tan line where your ring used to be.

Back on Hawaii…

Whenever there is nothing to discuss and everyone is going after hints and trying to get information, all Steve does in look at the dot on the screen. The dot that resembles you. Somewhere deep in a jungle. Kono is scanning the area right now, trying to get pictures that are up to date. Joe is still trying to get someone from the Navy to HQ, getting more and more pissed and irritated. Chin, Danny and Lou left a while ago to check all relevant houses for more clues. Steve has a feeling though, that there is nothing more to find. What else could there be? He would love to be on his way there now, but the 48h are not over yet.

He took your engagement ring and put it on a necklace to wear. He wants to have it with him, to give it back to you, as soon as he can. All the clues you left and the fake death certificate are scattered on his desk. He can’t imagine, what you might be feeling, thinking that he is dead. Or maybe he can? He has basically lost you, too. Has not certainty if you survive and if he gets to you in time.

Steve is pulled out of his thoughts when his phone rings.

“McGarrett.”

“Steve, hi, here is Hawkeye.” Dr. Pierce answer.

“Hi Hawkeye, what can I do for you?” Steve asks, hoping there is anything helpful for your case.

“I remembered something. (Y/N) left me a password.”

“A password? For what?” Steve sits up straight in his chair.

“I don’t know. She just wrote down a word in her file. I have no idea what it is for.”

“What’s the word?”

“Waterloo.”

As Steve hears that word, there is slight twitch on his lips to a smile. Waterloo is an insider between the two of you. It’s not about the word or history, but actually about the song from ABBA. You always called Steve your waterloo.

“Thank you, Hawkeye.” Steve says softly,

“Do you know what it could be for?”

“No, but we will figure it out.”

“Okay, good luck then.” Hawkeye says and both say their goodbyes.

LBB Taglist: @geeksareunique @fandomoniumflurry @rahma29417 @letsstarsfalling @fairchild21 @fungk17 @woodworthit666 @honestlyoriginalthing @evyiionee @everygoodusernameistaken16 @littlewhiterose @reincarnated-ghost @damedoctoroftardis-blog @princess76179 @jessica-tree @writingsmeow29 @drakelover78 @kalanimcgarrett @mercyy98 @auttumnsayshi @nocturnalherb16

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett x reader #lis writes #hawaii 5 0 imagine #hawaii 50 #hawaii 5 0 #hawaii five o #steve mcgarrett imagine #steve mcgarrett fanfiction #steve mcgarrett imagines #steve x reader

[adelphenium]

do you have a fave player to draw from each team? or if you haven’t drawn a player from each team (/maybe even if you have and he wasn’t your fave) who do you think they would be?

ahh this is gonna be a long one! i'm taking you at your word and listing one from every team..... under the cut :D

also i've divided it up based on the teams each player was on when i drew them!

favourite players i have drawn, by team:

East

sens: definitely chabby! however i will also note that i have not yet drawn timmy in a finished piece and i am very much aware of how criminal that is. i will try to rectify this soon.

canadiens: i haven't drawn many but probably pk!

leafs: auston bc he's got really nice distinctive features! conversely i don't like drawing mitchy bc he's too conventionally attractive :( another forbidden answer is bertuzzi . he was so rancid i HAD to draw him and it was admittedly fun.. but it was only a one-time thing.....

panthers: obviously matty tkachuk :)

bruins: sway! he's got the sweetest face BUT so too does ully.. hm..

red wings: dylan larkin, gorgeous nose

pens: s. crosby, legendary nose

flyers: nolpat! love his blush and lashes and terrifyingly blue eyes

canes: brady skjei in all his grey glory <3

devils: nico!!! amazing brows

West

avs: natemac, no question. PHENOMENAL nose, dare i say the best. though cale is a close second!

wild: kirill!!! squishy and doughy

jets: i've only drawn heller and his HUGE ears but it was still fun

stars: robo my beloved!! though seggy kinda reminds me of mtkachuk (?just me??) so he's been fun too

chicago: so far only seth jones

oilers: i Cannot Believe i'm saying this but...... connor. he seriously grew on me like a zebra mussel. i had such a hard time getting his features right at first (why is his mouth so small. why are his eyebrows Like That. what's up with his facial hair) but he's. he uh. listen davo propaganda is real and i have submitted completely to it. i love drawing him now

sharks: i've only drawn ekarlsson but he was so fun with the flow and twirly mustache

ducks: definitely jamie drysdale! i am a sucker for freckles..... praying for his contract 🙏

canucks: only quinn as of yet but he is fun and pretty

kraken: only matty beniers but he is extremely fun!!

knights: only mark stone but he's been fun too

teams whose players i have not drawn but want to:

East

lightning: i tried drawing vasy once and it went Very Badly. i think it'll be the same for stamkos. so maybe bogo!

sabres: definitely need to draw jeff skinner!! maybe i'll draw him with ej and josty just to make myself sad

islanders: mat barzal bc he reminds me of a handsome version of br*ndon urie

rangers: zibanejad!! i'm quite fond of him bc he looks like a male bearded version of one of my friends 😭

caps: nicke or sonny!

blue jackets: i don't really know these guys but maybe gaudreau.. he always looks a little freaked out, so. interesting

West

yotes: matt dumba! he reminds me of another one of my friends

preds: erm.... i gotta admit ryan o'reilly. he's very pretty to me and i don't really know anyone else on the preds...... i love tbear but he's a little plain for me 😭

blues: brandon saad, super cute smile!

flames: i've drawn matty tkachuk while he was on the flames but he's otherwise represented on the list so i don't think he counts..!! so maybe naz or hanny?

kings: either kopitar or pld!

i really like to draw players with distinctive faces, but i am extremely partial to those i've emotionally imprinted on.. as well as those i've already drawn multiple times...... you can see i've got a bit of an eastern atlantic bias haha

#also they're listed by division/conference bc i straight up made a list like this a month ago ermmmm... #this was ridiculously fun ty! #ask!

[camchuckforever]

Camilla & Diana

A/N: I KNOW I AM A HEATHEN ANIMAL FOR THIS PAIRING BUT JUST SHHH

Please remember in this stream of stories e’rybody gay af

“I just don’t understand,” she huffed, her blonde hair flounced with her like a cartoon or a drama actor on stage. Everything about her seemed rousing.

“Darling,” Camilla butted in before Charles would dig the hole more. “Charles is—well, he’s gay. But, the future king of England cannot be gay. In the past, I’ve been his front. His beard if you would. Very very few people know. But, he needs heirs and a proper wife to become Queen along side of him.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Does your mother know?” She lightheartedly jabbed a finger toward him.

“Absolutely not!” Charles scoffed. He rose from the settee and paced.

Camilla joined Diana on the same settee.

“You will have endless freedom and be able to take a lover in secret. Your whole life will be planned out and not have to worry about a single tenner. Your children will go to the best schools, and their children, and so on.”

Diana pondered it.

There was a point. And she’d get farther away from her wicked step-mother and worse step-grandmother.

“What if I have a secret as well?”

“This has to work Diana! You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted!” Charles yelled.

Camilla tutted at him before asking Diana to repeat herself, but she turned in on herself, shy once again. She noted to take the younger woman aside later on—without Charles.

“Charles!” Camilla snapped as he continued on, practically yelling at her about how happy she would be and how much she would love it. “You’re not making it sound very appetizing. Just—Charles—“ she now held up a finger to him. “Leave us for just a minute. Please,” she added as his face began to turn a lovely shade of red.

Charles stormed out of the sitting room, the door slammed behind him as he opened and closed them himself. He’d get a stern talking to if anyone heard it beyond the staff.

“Diana, dear,” Camilla turned to face her. Her full face still showing how young she was. “Charles means well, he truly does. He just doesn’t express his emotions very well, most of the time. Good or bad. It does take some getting used to, but I’ll be here with you. I’ll be your girl Friday if you need.”

“Shouldn’t a lady know her own husband and not second hand knowledge?” Her dream of becoming a princess was turning out to be quite different than what she’d pictured.

“Well, yes. Which is why we’re all three here. England will need a king and queen and heirs. Like I said, you’ll be able to take a lover—practically anyone would drool over you, men or women,” she laughed.

Diana looked down then up at Camilla. The older woman’s hair was flouncy, almost like hers, but less like a ballerina spinning en pointe and more like flyaways she couldn’t quite contain.

“Would you?”

“Would I what?” Camilla scrunched her eyebrows together, unsure of what she was being asked.

Diana took a breath in and reached out to her friend, clasping her hand.

“Would you drool over me?”

Camilla gasped. She bit down on her lower lip.

“I would. I told Charles you were far too pretty for him,” she laughed.

Diana’s breath grew shallow and quick and then—boom—she leaned forward and planted her lips on Camilla’s.

They both sprang back, unsure of what to say or do.

“You like women?” Camilla asked, sliding her hand down Diana’s arm.

“Yes, I believe so. I think men are attractive as well, but women are just so—“ she sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Soft and gorgeous and not harsh and cruel.”

“Oh, I’ve met plenty of cruel women, Diana. You should know growing up as a Spencer, aristocracy isn’t a fairytale.”

“You aren’t cruel and harsh, Camilla.”

They both paused, gaging the other’s look.

Camilla moved in this time, she brought her hand up to Diana’s cheek and stroked her thumb along the soft baby hairs on her face. She pressed her lips against Diana’s who was waiting for the impact. Their lips melded together like dough being kneaded for bread. Diana urged her more, her kissing growing more impatient and more needy. Camilla brought her hand up to cup the younger woman’s breast.

“Alright! Have we figured this out yet—“ Charles paused and slammed the door once more. “Bloody hell! Anyone could have walked in on you two!”

The two women regretfully pulled away, but this time they sat close enough their thighs touched. The tension seemed to break as Charles’ eyes lit up.

“No, no this is good. Right Mills?” He walked over to them and grabbed Camilla’s face by the chin, he pecked her forehead, then did the same to Diana.

“I think so,” Camilla responded, feeling Diana tense up.

“Yes, I think we have figured this out.” Diana reached over and held fast onto Camilla.

The two women looked to each other, the thought of the unknown both terrifying and exciting.

[manuscripts-dontburn]

Leia, Princess of Alderaan

Author: Claudia Gray

First published: 2017

Rating: ★★★★☆

In the beginning, I felt this would be simply a decent fanfiction filled with movie references and easter eggs, but I was pleasantly surprised, as I read on, that instead, this turned out to be quite a compelling portrait of a girl who grew up to be the character I loved in Star Wars so much. A very believable portrait. I was also quite captivated that the main conflict here does not center on romance or teenage rebellion, but quite well-measured and carefully thought-through discussion of the prize of an uprising, its importance and difficulty, and the hard choices those with means to oppose the evil often have to make.

The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine

Author: Ilan Pappé

First published: 2006

Rating: ★★★★★

Sombre, precise, and accessible. Also very important and heartbreaking. A clear portrait of a colonial project that is still brutally taking people´s lives, homes, and history. I still find it extremely bitter that the Zionists took so many lessons and inspiration from the Nazi regime. It is also extremely interesting that the aims, language, and strategies the Israeli government is using in the autumn of 2023 are the same as they had used in 1948. This book is even more terrible now, as we see the genocide of Palestinian people in real time.

The Maiden

Author: Kate Foster

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★★☆

Interesting take on a real historical event. Lady Christian, accused and deemed guilty of the murder of her lover (who was also her uncle - thankfully not blood-related, but still urghhhh), a professional courtesan Violet, who hopes the said uncle might just be her ticket to a better life, and a bunch of other female characters who all have their agendas, reasons, and hopes, are all linked through ties that are only gradually revealed. In spite of revealing the murder and the death sentence of Christian at the very beginning, the author still manages to take you on a journey where there are unforeseen twists and turns. I personally could have done with less raised petticoats and sweaty fumbling, but at the same time, the grittiness and awkwardness of human sexuality are presented in a way that is very real, but never pornographic or lewd for the sake of it. Definite feminist tones are running through the whole book and I appreciate they do not turn any of the women in the book into a 21st-century robot. No. everything is very real and I am sure that many women will also find the characters relatable in their actions and motives. The book COULD have been shorter and left the same impact, but if you don´t mind slower pacing, you might enjoy this a lot.

The Escape of Alexei, Son of Tsar Nicholas II: What Happened the Night the Romanov Family Was Executed

Author: Igor Lysenko

First published: 1998

Rating:  ★☆☆☆☆

Except for reprints of some genuine documents in full (i.e. the request of Dr. Botkin for allowing Alexei´s tutors to be allowed into the Ipatiev house), there is really no value to this publication. The whole first half merely gives some basic historical background, pretty much dismisses the accounts of the executioners as faked (without proof) and then there is a lot of trying to persuade the reader that Alexei lived. this the authors came to believe based on some really low-quality photograph comparison, a privately orchestrated writing analysis, and the fact some dude grows his beard like Nicholas II. The fact that Vasily Filatov was obviously very intelligent cannot be taken into account as proof at all, especially since the writers insist he spoke languages Alexei had never been taught and played instruments Alexei had never been taught to play etc. I also found it extremely weird that they insisted Alexei survived the brutal massacre in the Iptaiev house completely unharmed. This book was, of course, written before the 2007 discovery of the two missing bodies, so perhaps the fact those bodies had been missing in the first grave was just too tempting for the writers to let go of once they were contacted by Filatov. Yet in the whole book, there is not a single suggestion as to the fate of the "missing" sister. What happened to her according to these people? I picked this book up because I am fascinated with the Romanov pretenders and how much mental gymnastics they can go to. I am never disappointed in the amount of de-lu-lu.

And the Mountains Echoed

Author: Khaled Hosseini

First published: 2012

Rating:  ★★★★★

Not one story, but many lives tying in together, all of which could have been their own book. This is, actually, one of my favourite types of novels and Khaled Hosseini managed to weave a beautiful tapestry full of sadness, desires simple and complicated, and some hefty moral questions. His characters are all so human that you can clearly see their faults and flaws, some of which are more and some less understandable to the reader, but you can always find something to relate to, care for, or pity in them. I would have wished for an ending more book-ish. But the one we get is not bad. It brought tears to my eyes. One of those books that capture life and that which makes us human.

Dostoevsky in Love: An Intimate Life

Author: Alex Christofi

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★★★☆

As I am writing this, I have only read one short story by Dostoyevsky and read only one of his novels (Crime and Punishment). I suppose I should have read a bunch more if I didn´t want to be spoiled for the rest. I imagine a proper biography on this complicated man could easily be a 1000+ pages book, so one must give credit to Alex Chrisofi for writing just about 200 and yet successfully introducing him to me. His childhood, his experiences of exile in Siberia, his ambitions to become a writer - and of course his loves, his gambling, his moral struggles - none of it is missing, everything has its place and tells enough to get to know Dostoyevsky and rouses interest to read more. As criticism, I might offer several footnotes that do not really connect to the matter at hand, and though compelling, I would be always careful before assigning a specific sentence from the author´s book to a specific moment of their life, because that is nothing but guesswork (even if effective in portraying emotions).

We Had To Remove This Post

Author: Hanna Bervoets

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

This was short and that is the reason why I finished it. I suppose that is as good a review as any.

The Madman’s Gallery

Author: Edward Brooke-Hitching

First published: 2022

Rating: ★★★★★

Very entertaining, gorgeously illustrated, and left me feeling like truly walking through a gallery. I love Brooke-Hitching´s books, they are filled with funny and fascinating trivia and can point you in new directions of interest. The artworks are listed from the dawn of time up to contemporary times, finishing with a chapter about AI.

Silk Roads

Author: Peter Frankopan

First published: 2015

Rating: ★★★★☆

Money and greed rule the world, have always ruled the world and the West is really great at pretending it has always been the greatest part of the world while selling their souls for the dreams of colonialism. Peter Frankopan says all this in a very accessible way, pointing out both the obvious and providing lesser-known information. to be completely honest though, I do not think I have retained too much new stuff, since there was way too much all at once, but I suppose this book also gave me some good pointers to topics I have previously overlooked. Definitely worth checking out if you are unsure about how the world became such a mess (and actually always has been a mess). Pretty depressing with all the knowledge we have acquired and events that have happened since the publication of this book though.

Mammoths at the Gates

Author: Nghi Vo

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★★☆

These books are such healing plasters upon my soul. A moment of peace and quiet, silent beauty, emotions that are welcomed and not repressed.

Starling House

Author: Alix E. Harrow

First published: 2023

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Things I liked: the writing, the atmosphere, the creepy old house. Things I did not particularly care about: the contemporary settings, the characters who all just seemed to fulfill a spot rather than actually live in the book. Things I did not like: repetitive situations. Overall I will need to think about this one a bit more before I come to a truly solid conclusion. Some time ago I was not thrilled with the author´s debut book, yet I keep thinking about it. Mabe this will be the same case?

#booklr #wrap up #November 2023

[sayheykid]

*banging pots and pans* TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS!!!

you don't have to twist my arm! my story is mostly focused on friendship and growing up through the lens of college athletics (my fake university and fake surrounding small town are characters in and of themselves)

the central storyline focuses on the baseball team, and several people on/around it. here are the ones you MUST know:

charlie: irish/italian guy from boston and it's obvious from everything about him. captain of the team, de facto dad. he is so so very tired and he acts like shepherding 35 guys is the biggest burden in the world but he would die for any of them and they all know it. he literally cannot turn off being the oldest brother no matter how hard he tries, and holds himself to unreal strict standards, whether that's in baseball, outside responsibility, his family or the numerous handyman projects he's taken on to keep his college house from falling apart. he's a right handed starting pitcher who still believes starters should throw 200 innings a year. he's also more in love with his girlfriend than any human being has been in love with anyone else ever.

ramón: he is both the most and least chill person you've ever met. lanky sidearm lefty pitcher who was born to be a bullpen personality and forced to start. he's loud and colorful and knows everybody. (those who don't know him know of him) he has the best hair on the team and is the designated dj. he does not seek out responsibility to the extent charlie does, but is a competent and respected alternate captain. functional disaster bi

tyler: first string catcher and the babiest boy in the world. i love him so much, he follows charlie around like a lost duckling and has been adopted as charlie's little brother/son. people know he's smart (mechanical engineer baby!!!) but don't realize the depth of his personality because he's pretty shy and it takes a while to get his sense of humor to shine through. he cannot grow a beard under any circumstances. only baseball player in history to be taller than his listed roster height. don't judge that he's from ohio, he couldn't help it.

jake: he's a center fielder and everyone knows it. shows off on the field but is very down to earth in every other aspect of his life. extremely suave and charismatic with a dazzling smile. probably the most involved in extracurriculars of anyone on the team, and should probably be president some day (dude you can't be athletic and smart and musical and handsome and a genuinely good guy. leave some for the rest of us). nigerian and has two moms<3 he was also the kid that took the bite out of the nerf football growing up sorry

sam: charlie's younger sister and captain of the women's hockey team in her own right. she's extremely fiery both on and off the ice, and can sometimes be a bit brash. when it comes down to it though, she's one of the most compartmentalized and action-oriented in an emergency. she grew up as the only girl with two competitive older brothers (ben is between charlie and sam) and the experience was absolutely formative. she takes everything as a challenge, and is more of a frat bro than many of the actual fraternity brothers at their university. all three siblings have adhd.

ellie: love of my life!! charlie's girlfriend and sam's best friend though it's hard not to love her, no matter who you are. she is definitely the even keel in the friend group - very patient and compassionate, and balances a lot of the different personality types at play. she's also the only non athlete, but is unequivocally an equal member of their dynamic. she once gave tyler a buzzcut (at his request) because she's the only one who could be trusted with the clippers. she's just very graceful and poised and the boys would be lost without her, charlie most of all. with that said, she has her own life and own priorities and is quite successful as editor of her college newspaper.

other notes:

charlie and ramón are the oldest, jake is a year below them, and tyler sam and ellie are all in the next year, one below jake and two below charlie and ramón

the four boys all live together in a house off campus (they have one more roommate but he's not as important to the story)

there is literally so much lore i am vibrating trying to cut more than 60 pages for charlie ALONE down to a paragraph. i didn't even get into my worldbuilding which is its own thing. i have brain worms i'm happy to share at any moment.

Thank you for asking! I'm glad my kids are getting out into the world

#baseball story #this is my life's work fr fr

[loominggaia]

What if the FGG got access to a magic item that basically serves like a video game character creator? Allowing them to edit their forms however they please, changing race/ gender/ height/ weight/ etc… for limits it only changes physical aspects, not memories or mental aspects. And it cannot cure inflictions, only suppressing them if they transfer to another class and re-instating them once they go back? What new form would they chose and why?

That's interesting to think about.

I think it was "Dirty Animal" where Evan mentions there's an unnatural bump in his nose, which was caused by Itchy headbutting him in the face and breaking it. It healed wrong and doesn't resemble the same shape it did before. Evan was pretty upset by this because, according to him, his nose was a "gift from his mother", meaning his used to be identical to Sofia's and it was something he liked about himself. He doesn't like his bumpy nose, so I think he'd change it back.

The "Atlas jaw" is also mentioned in a few stories, referring to the fact that all of Evan's blood-relatives have the same big, square jaw. He would probably change that too because his friends rip on him about it a lot.

He would probably remove some his body hair so he looks less like a lycanthrope, and if the spell could fix his peg leg and make it look normal, he might do that too.

Lukas would lighten the dark bags under his eyes, which he developed from chronic insomnia. He has his mother's chin and cheekbones, and anything that reminds him of her is no bueno, so he'd probably tweak those. He's a bit self-conscious about his slender frame, so I could see him bulking himself up too.

Glenvar maxes out the height-slider, turns down the fat slider, and totally Chads himself out. Slaps an even bigger, longer beard on himself. Un-baby's his baby-face. Basically turns himself into the ideal Maskamar warrior, a huge Viking-esque dude.

Alaine seems to believe she's "ugly" and "looks like a frog". I think most of that attitude is directed towards her mermaid features. I think she mentioned in one story that she'd take away her scales and turn her hair black if she could, so I think that's what she'd do first. Just make herself look like a person without the mermaid's curse.

Isaac isn't crazy about his long nose, huge eyebrows, and small chin. Other than that I think he's happy with the way he looks.

As much as Linde bangs on about how people should love themselves and whatnot, she would completely go nuts with this spell and make herself unrecognizable. Taller, plumper, big ass and tiddies, rich tan skin and dark hair like her father's, and green eyes like her mother's. This is the ideal beauty standard for Matuzan women, and it's what she grew up always wishing she could be.

Balthazaar would drop his weight but keep his muscle. Un-bulldog his face. Remove more than a few scars. But most importantly to him, he would put hair back on his head.

Skel might be bigoted against elves, but it's bigotry born from jealousy, so you better believe he's slapping that "species: elf" button immediately.

Javaan probably wouldn't change anything. He's a ho-puller as it is. Don't fix it if it ain't broke, right?

Elska just makes herself even bigger and beefier. 50% more Elska, 100% more carnage.

Mr. Ocean turns himself into a human. He's always had this weird fixation on humans and just thinks it would be cool to be one. His age, sex, and minor details don't matter so much to him. He presses the randomize button and goes for it.

Zeffer just fucking deletes his character.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askliterature

[squidsquadlove]

Worst beards: Kraken Edition

First of all, I want to say that no matter how bad the beard may be, I will love it. Second, unless we miraculously go to the second round, we won't truly know what these guys look like fully bearded -- I have my doubts that some of them can grow a full beard in a week or two (I'm looking at you, Eeli).

But we have Movember to provide us a preview of this, and several Kraken grew handsome, or at least decent, mustaches in that time! Carson Soucy was the undisputed champion.

I have decided not to cheat and look up how some of these guys looked in their prior Cup beards, and in some cases they were so very young (Dunner) that it might not be applicable now. So here is my bracket!

I have immense faith in how awesome Matty's four-day-old beard will be. Given the way it's threatened to grow in on multiple occasions, I am pretty sure Matty has a 10 o'clock shadow and will look stunning. (His age is not a factor. Some guys are just blessed.) I also think Canner is gonna do just fine, and Soucy will look spectacular. I have some memories from last year of how Burky's beard looked, but I think Geeks is going to be the winner there anyway. (Sorry, Geeks!)

On the left, the only one I feel like I'm taking a chance on is Sprong vs. Gourde. I'm not sure either of them will acquit themselves well here. But I have faith in Schultz and Oleksiak (hold the blue line, boys!), and while I have strong moral disagreement with Donato sporting facial hair, I think it's likely to be better than Eeli. (Note: I also have strong moral disagreement with Eeli having facial hair, but the hockey gods are not kind in that regard. The mustache is a crime.)

Turbo vs. Yanni is another hard call. Turbo's grown some patchy beardishness in the past, and I did not approve. (Please note that I do not have a general dislike of beards! Bjorky, Gru, Jones, and especially Driedger have wonderful beards and I am fully in favor of those staying put.) But in the end, I believe Yanni will win out.

However, I don't think Yanni will overcome Eeli in terms of bad beards, and I am also pretty sure that Eeli cannot out-pizza the Hut. I think Geeks will be our bad beard champion.

Also, side note: Mike Benton thinks the Hakstol goatee is making a comeback for the playoffs, and I am HERE FOR IT. I know I am the rare person who thinks Hak has a bit of hotness himself, but the goatee is very much thumbs up in my book.

I would also like Ron Francis to grow a playoff beard, please and thank you. I know he's spent his time in the mines already and has the Cups to show for it, and that he doesn't need to, but look, Kyle Dubas does it. C'mon, Ron. You're on the list of Hot GMs. Bring it in. Help the team with your ~vibes~.

#krakenbeardbracket #seattle kraken #helens thinks too much about facial hair

[daloy-politsey]

On my first date with Yehoram, I offered him a sip of my prosecco at the hip Tel Aviv bar I had brought him to. He tensed, paused and quietly replied, “I’m not sure if I can. I don’t know if it’s kosher.” I immediately recognized his confession for what it was: a coming-out. I told him that it’s fine, that we can ask the waitress if the wine has a certification, that I grew up in an observant family too. He finally breathed.

I already knew that Yehoram is female-to-male transgender. In fact, it was the only thing written on his dating profile. Over the course of our year-long relationship, and then our seamless transition into friendship late last year, he explained to me that the queer community will often accept that he is trans but not that he is religious. But the same is not always necessarily true of the religious community – and particularly of his family.

There are many preconceptions about his family. The matriarch Mazal, 74, and patriarch Yehiel, 78, were both born in Sana’a, Yemen, and immigrated to the newly-declared State of Israel in early childhood. (Haaretz is honoring their request not to publish the family name.) They are visibly Haredi: Mazal wears long skirts and tucks her hair into modest black caps; Yehiel trims his salt-and-pepper beard, and wears a uniform of crisp dress shirts, black pants and a black velvet kippa.

They speak with heavy Yemenite accents – which have been at least partially adopted by their seven children – and their speech is seasoned with religious aphorisms and allusions. People are surprised to learn that Yehoram, 32, is accepted and supported by his parents, to a degree that is rare even in the secular homes of Tel Aviv.

At their kitchen table in a town near Rehovot, central Israel, Mazal has set out water, juice and a homemade cake. Yehiel has set down a voice recorder of his own, to make sure he isn’t misrepresented. They have a story to tell about being the parents of a trans son, and they have decided that I am allowed to tell it.

Before we begin the interview, both are apprehensive. After much deliberation, they decide that I can publish their names but not their images. Yehiel is a respected figure in religious circles: he serves as his synagogue’s main cantor on the High Holy Days, is a mezuzah scribe and kashrut supervisor for the Chief Rabbinate. He spends his free time poring over religious texts, with Yehoram often alongside him. His son no longer attends the local synagogue in which his father plays so large a role; the congregation knew him before his transition, and it could hurt his family’s reputation.

If someone goes to the rabbi with this article in hand and tells Yehiel that he’s out of the fold, “at our age, there’s no fight left. There’s nothing you can do,” he says. “It would destroy me.” When he thinks I cannot hear him, he says that he suspects that one of his contracts as a kashrut supervisor was not renewed for this exact reason – because of his unconventional family.

But if getting his story out shows religious parents that they can embrace their own LGBTQ children, he wants it published. “I want to help,” he says.

Mazal chimes in. “Both of us do. You hear these stories about parents throwing their children out ... I don’t understand it. I don’t understand how you throw out your child.”

She recounts going to the shivah of a friend of Yehoram’s – the transgender queer activist DanVeg, who took her own life in 2016.  “I saw them all in the living room, with their heads on each other’s shoulders. I started to cry. I wanted to hug them all, to go one by one. And they came to me; they saw the look in my eye. There was a man who had become a woman, who came to hug me. And a young girl, and more. I couldn’t take it,” she says, wiping away tears that are coming faster and faster. “More and more of them told us that they’re alone, abandoned by their parents. How can you throw out your child? The child of a human being!”

I get up to hug her, and she cries into my back: “Why? Why would you throw your child out of your house? Why?”

They say they never suspected that Yehoram was different before he came out to them, if not unconventionally, as queer at the age of 18, some 14 years ago.

He did not employ the usual lexicon: “I told them, this is how I am – I’m wearing pants from now on and I’m not interested in men,” he recounts. In Yehoram’s absence, Yehiel recalls it as well. Yehoram sat his parents down in the living room and said his piece, and then asked his parents for a response.

“We got up immediately, as if it were coordinated,” Yehiel says. “We hugged [him] from both directions … and we told [him], ‘You have nothing to be afraid of, no need to worry. You’re our daughter, it doesn’t matter what you do.’” Yehoram then opened his backpack to show a couple days’ clothes inside. “If you didn’t accept me, I would have killed myself,” he told his parents.

From there, they worked to make sure that their son wouldn’t, for one moment, forget that he is loved and cared for. They also made sure that he could live a normal life. “It was important that he be self-sufficient, have a respectable career, be able to build a life without us,” Yehiel explains. “Every day, I’m afraid that he won’t be here. I think about how he can build his life so he’s not dependent on anyone else.”

Mazal and Yehiel tend to refer to Yehoram with female pronouns when he isn’t in the room, and occasionally slip into them when he is. To her, Mazal says, he will always be their daughter. “It’s hard for me,” Yehiel concurs. “[He] should be patient.”

Mazal calls him by his chosen name – an anagram of his birth name – to make him happy. “And to connect with [him] – what can you do? We love [him] either way. [He’s] our daughter.”

There have been difficulties in accepting him along the way, she concedes. But like many parents of LGBTQ children, they are mainly rooted in concerns that he will be able to live a safe, fulfilling life.

No one should mistake their acceptance for liberalism – they repeatedly note that the Pride Parades, with their scanty clothes and glitter, are unsightly. “The left brings it in,” Mazal says. “Non-Jews from abroad, with all their tattoos and whatnot.” However, their embrace of their transgender son and the many queer people who have passed through their doors does not come in spite of their firm religious beliefs, but is the direct result of them.

Yehiel, a lifelong religious scholar, has poured over sources biblical, talmudic, rabbinic and kabbalistic. The kabbalistic concept of the soul provides a simple explanation for the transgender phenomenon, he believes.

“We have the knowledge that Jewish souls can be reincarnated into anything – into non-Jewish families, into animals, even into food,” Yehiel explains. “We were taught that the soul of a man can be reincarnated into a woman, in order to remedy something he had done in a past life.”

When Mazal was pregnant with Yehoram, she had already given birth to five daughters and was hoping for a son. The couple went to a respected rabbi, who told them to buy a bottle of wine for the circumcision ceremony and to come see him 40 days into the pregnancy. Yehiel says that when the time came, it was hard to get hold of the rabbi to schedule an appointment, and they were only able to see him eight months in. The rabbi gave them the blessing regardless.

“The body was already formed female,” Yehiel says, but the prayers had worked: “The soul was male.”

And there is scripture to back up the existence of LGBTQ people within Judaism. “You’re not different, you’re not strange,” Yehiel says. “This [phenomenon] has always existed. It’s in the Torah, and it’s in the mystical sources.” Mazal adds: “It’s a shame that we don’t lay this out these days, to have everything written up and organized to say that it’s all there in scripture.”

At 26, Yehoram told his parents he was transitioning. He underwent top surgery – a double mastectomy – without informing them. “On the one hand, it hurt us,” Yehiel admits. “For us, it meant that’s it – it’s sealed. If he’d told us in advance, we would have told him to wait. Maybe the situation would change.”

But what’s done is done, Mazal says. “What hurt me is that [he] underwent the surgery and I wasn’t there. That ate at me.”

Both loudly agree that the important thing is that he is happy and healthy. “We hope just for success – and thank God there are many successes, so everything is alright,” she says. “I’m just waiting for children,” she laughs.

Yehoram, who has taken a seat next to her, smirks. Mazal jokes about him coming home pregnant one day. He’s slightly irked, but jokes along. A couple of years ago, he froze his eggs through Ichilov Hospital’s fertility clinic for transgender men, and hopes to one day become a father, no matter how he has to do it. His parents strongly supported the move. They have 31 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren.

Yehoram asks a question of his own: Whether his parents want to talk about the time they took him to an esteemed rabbi in Tel Aviv, after he came out at 18.

“After he told us everything, we consulted with a rabbi,” Yehiel relays. “I remember that he got angry and yelled at him. I didn’t like that. He hurt him, and I couldn’t stay any longer, so we left.”

“The rabbi told me that I had lapsed, deteriorated in my spirituality,” Yehoram explains. It’s clear that he remembers it vividly. “That I had fallen.”

After that, the rabbi told him to leave the room, and for his parents to stay. “I heard shouting, and then you left the room,” he says to his parents. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything. We were quiet all the way home.”

No one discussed the incident for days after, and they barely spoke at all. After three days, Yehoram says, he asked his mother what had happened after the rabbi told him to leave the room.

“I didn’t know what happened, I assumed the worst. You told me that [Dad] got very angry and told [the rabbi], ‘How dare you hurt and belittle a Jewish soul?’ You said you had to give him however much money, and that you just threw a small bill onto the table and left the room,” Yehoram tells his mother. “It really surprised me. I thought you were on his side, and then I suddenly heard that you were on mine.”

When he is with us in the room, Yehoram sometimes seems agitated by his parents’ insistence that their acceptance has always been complete. He tries to direct them toward other instances, other rabbis they don’t or won’t recall. It is often difficult for parents to acknowledge the pain or discomfort that their actions caused their children, even if they were accidental. Mazal brings out a picture from Yehoram’s bat mitzvah, of them embracing the young girl he was. They look almost exactly the same, 20 years later, beaming. Young Yehoram, in a long-sleeved, high-necked dress, is smiling, but the smile does not reach his eyes.

Elisha Alexander, co-CEO and founder of the transgender advocacy and information organization Ma’avarim, says that even though Yehiel and Mazal’s acceptance of their son may seem unique, he would like to think it’s more common than we assume.

“There are religious and even ultra-Orthodox people who accept their trans family members, but it’s usually in secret. The main problem in these communities is the leadership,” he says.

But if more of them realized that embracing their children was a matter of pikuach nefesh – the Jewish concept that saving a life supersedes most religious commandments and norms – they would be more inclined to find a halakhic solution to integrating transgender people into these communities.

There is also a misconception that acceptance is a binary choice: That any parent who does not kick their transgender child out of the house or disown them has, by default, accepted them. “This could not be further from the truth,” Alexander says. “Accepting your child means accepting every aspect inherent to them, including their gender identity, pronouns and so on.”

When parents refuse to do so, their child may seek acceptance elsewhere. He adds that studies show that acceptance within the family drastically reduces the suicide rate among transgender people.

Knowing this, Yehiel says that any parent in his position must continue loving and supporting their child. “This child can fall,” he says. He does not mention it, but he is aware of the stories and statistics: trans youth who find themselves on the street face high rates of abuse and exploitation. Thirty to 50 percent of transgender teens report suicidal thoughts and behaviors – a rate three times higher than for teens overall. But that figure falls to 4 percent when families accept and embrace them, says Sarit Ben Shimol, manager of the Lioness Alliance for families and transgender children and teenagers.

Yehiel adds that it is the duty of parents to give children the support they need to thrive. “As a parent, it is your responsibility to tell your child: You are my child and you are my life. My life depends on you. Watch over me so that I can watch over you,” he says.

As we get up from our seats, Yehiel looks at me for a moment and asks, “If it’s not too personal – since we already opened up the topic – what is your relationship like with your parents?”

I tell them that I talk to my parents, and especially my mother, almost every day. That it was difficult for them to come to terms with my sexual orientation as well, and that sometimes I have an inkling that it still is, even if they won’t say it outright. But I try to be patient.

“Good,” Mazal says. “It’s important to be patient – they’re learning too.” She embraces me again, and Yehiel rests a hand on my shoulder. They invite me to come again, whenever I like. “After all, you’re like our daughter, too.”

#lgbt jews #transgender #judaism #jumblr #transphobia cw

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XXI

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader faces her past.

Note: We’re gonna keep going til this is over...hopefully ;)

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

You looked down the hill on the castle you grew up in. The road behind you didn’t seem as long as that before you, your destination not an hour away. You sat on a rock as Peter paced and muttered under his breath. You closed your eyes and thought of Elina. You knew she was safe with Zemo and that made the distance easier.

Before you left Heinrich’s Creek, you’d held her as long as you could. You kissed her all over and handed her over with tears in your eyes. Zemo promised you would see her again but you knew it was unlikely. He did too and he had never been one to lie for the sake of emotion. It struck you deeply and you kissed him just as desperately.

“So… we walk straight up to the gates and what? Hope for peace?” Peter asked.

You fixed the collar of your tunic and gripped your cane, “we’ll get her back, Peter,” you promised as you pushed yourself up. You were dressed as a man, it made travel easier and the two of you less conspicuous, “you have rope?”

“Rope? Uh, yes, but--”

“We’ll leave my horse up here. May will need it,” you said as you neared him, “get the rope.”

“Why--”

“Peter, we came this far knowing what needs to be done,” your chest stirred with dread though you were consigned to your fate, “tie it around my neck, get up on your horse, and take me down that hill.”

“I--”

“He can’t think I’m here on my own will, he’ll know. You make him think you only want your aunt and you leave with her as quick as you can,” you voice cracked and you inhaled deeply, “I’m doing this for my daughter. So she can live without men like him.”

“You don’t have to die for it. Zemo, he can help--”

“He can’t. Not swift enough to save May,” you shook your head, “we’ve taken long enough to get here. Now tie me up and let us go.”

He looked at you and shuttered. He frowned and went to his saddlebag. He took out the length of rope and you raised your head as he wound it around your neck quietly. He knotted it and you leaned on your cane.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he finished.

“No, you don’t have to be,” you said, “when we get close, if you see him, you yank on me. As hard as you can. Make him think I am as much your captive as she is his.”

“I can’t--”

“Peter, you have to be strong. I won’t have your aunt die for me. Not like your uncle. I lived, he didn’t. I owe you much more than you ever did me,” you uttered, “Now get on your horse.”

He hung his head and nodded. He mounted and wrapped the end of the rope around his hand. He nicked and set off along the path. You stumbled and limped behind him, your cane skidding over the stones and mud. It was well into fall and the land was cold and wet. You were careful on the incline not to slip and saved yourself several times with the wooden stick.

He kept looking back the closer you got to the gates and you hissed for him to keep his eyes forward. He could blow it all after everything. He pushed his shoulders back as he approached the guards at the wall and he stopped just a little away from them. They stood at attention and gripped their pommels.

“Who goes there?” one asked and the men shared a look of recognition before Peter could answer.

“Lord Barnes is awaiting his bounty,” Peter said stonily, “I have her but he must first return what is mine as he swore to.”

“This is her?” The man at the left side of the iron gates asked.

“It’s her, you dolt,” the other interjected, “you remember her, don’t you? And look, she’s all messed up from the horse.”

“Where is Lord Barnes?” Peter insisted.

“Aye, in a moment,” the man clanged on the gate with his mailed elbow, “Oswald, fetch the lord. Tell him Lord Parker has come for the crone.”

You shifted and leaned heavily on your cave. You focused on your breath as it threatened to quicken to panic. You had weeks, months to prepare for him but you could never be ready. You shook and struggled to keep afoot. You knew only cruelty awaited you, even if he did believe your lies.

It was a time before you heard anything more. Peter grew impatient as his horse spat and snorted in kind. At last you heard footsteps and suddenly Peter tugged harshly on the rope. You fell to your knees as he spoke, boots mulching in the mud.

“Lord Barnes, I have your whore,” Peter called out, “Where is my aunt?”

You looked up as you clutched your cane and felt along the rope at your throat. Your eyes met Barnes’ and time seemed to stand still. His hair was even longer than before, his beard too. There were threads of silver through both and his left shoulder was barren of its former attachment.

“You are fortunate I had the patience to wait on you,” Barnes growled, “your aunt is alive… though I cannot say she is happy about it. You give me my woman first and I’ll give you yours.”

Peter hesitated. “How do I know it is not a trick?”

Barnes raised his hand and signaled to some unseen person. There was a creak and more footsteps. May was dragged up in her stained shift, a patched cloak draped crookedly over her shoulders.

“See, she’s all here,” Barnes called, “Now you hand her over and I’ll do the same. Fair trade.”

Peter looked over his shoulder as you stood and you lowered your chin. It was a subtle nod. Do it.

A guard came forward and he bent to hand over the rope as the gate was opened with the crank. You were taken off your feet again as the armored goon wrenched you meanly and laughed.

“I will have you stripped and whipped if you do it again,” Barnes warned as he came forward, his hand on May’s elbow, “give him the old lady.”

He released May as you were led through the gate and as you passed May she glanced at you. Your eyes met and she knew. There was an unspoken and piteous gratitude in her eyes. You hobbled onward and felt fingers closed around your arm. You lifted your head as Barnes grabbed you and pulled the rope slipped from the guard’s grasp.

“Close the gate. Let the boy go,” he demanded.

He said nothing more and turned back and hauled you with him. His hand slid from your arm and followed the length of the rope as he wounded it around his knuckles. You barely kept up with him as your cane bounced off the ground and you walked unevenly beside him. His silence was unsettling.

You passed through the wide doors of the castle and he huffed as you staggered across the stone. He spun you suddenly and kicked your cane out from under you. The stick rolled away from you and he bent to scoop you up over his shoulder, the rope straining at your neck.

“You won’t be walking much,” he snarled as he set off up the stairs.

You quivered and grasped at the back of his tunic. His hand held your thigh firmly and he squeezed, as if making certain you were real. The fear bubbled in your chest and all your plans fell to the floor like your cane had.

He swept into his room and kicked the door closed. He tossed you down on the bed as he let the rope free and you bounced violently on the feather mattress. He was quick to follow and straddled you under him. His hand roughly felt along your cheek and lips, lingering on your scar as he stared at you.

“I thought…” he rasped as his eyes bore into you, “did you laugh to think of me mourning you?”

“No, my lord, I…” you croaked. You were that girl again, that maid, terrified. “I never--”

“I cried for you,” he sneered, “I buried you!”

“My lord,” you grabbed his wrist as his fingers stretched across the rope, “please--”

“Did he make a good whore of you? Huh? Did you prefer him to me?”

“He took me against my will. I was not aware even that he did until it was too late--”

“I know,” he hissed as he leaned over you, his hot breath scoured your skin, “I know about our child.”

“I…” you shook your head, “I-- I--”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t--”

“You know!” he shouted, “you know!”

“I don’t. Zemo… he fled when Peter got hold of me. Like the coward you know him to be--”

“Stop lying--”

“I am not lying, I swear it, my lord,” you pleaded, “you have me. You don’t need the child.”

“It is my child,” he barked, “mine. You would keep her from me as you kept yourself.”

“No, I cannot-- I didn’t run. He took me. I never asked for it--”

“You will tell me where they are,” he backed off of you and grabbed the loose end of the rope again. 

He flipped you and moved your hands to the middle of your back. He snapped at you not to move as he looped the rope around your wrists and struggled with one hand to pull it tight. He tested it with a violent tug that jolted your entire body. His fingers hooked into the back of your breeches and he ripped them down.

You yelped as he struck you with his hand. You kicked out and tried to stand. He pushed you back down with his foot and smacked your ass again.

“Stay,” he bid as he moved around behind you, “stay or it will only be worse… but I suppose it must be before you tell me.”

You twined your fingers together and pushed your head into the mattress as you braced yourself. You listened to him behind you and as he walked across the room. He opened the door and called to someone. You did not hear his orders, only the feet that shuffled to do as he wished.

He waited until they returned and the door closed heavily. There was a tap, tap, tap, as he neared you and you looked down past your shoulder at the sparkling head of your cane. He lifted it in his hand and rested it against your ass.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon when I said we would not need this,” he said.

He pulled back the cane and brought the wood down with a crack across your rear. You scream at the agony it sent up your spine. He did it again and your legs flailed helplessly.

“Where is she?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you sobbed.

He struck you once more and asked the same question. You gave the same answer. The same thing, over and over. At least a dozen before he stilled. He brushed the wood against your bare skin and bent over you.

“I could have loved you. I wanted to,” he said, “we could have loved the child, too. Children… we could’ve had a whole litter.” He poked your ass with the cane as he stood straight and grazed between your legs with a hum, “Gods, we could just try for another right now.”

You closed your eyes and bit down. He withdrew the wood once more and his boot scuffed over the stone. He took a deep breath and let it out.

“In due time,” he said as he hit you again, “where the fuck is my child?”

You wept into the bedcover and thought of Elina. Thought of her in Zemo’s arms, the way she pulled his beard, and the way he smiled back at her, at you. You couldn’t tell him where they were if you wanted to. You never would. And if you suffered for it, Barnes would only suffer more. He would never know the only good piece of him to remain in the world.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #peter parker #series #hue and cry #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #spider-man #steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #medieval au #au #medieval!au

[filczi]

IT STARTED WITH A KISS HOW DID WE END UP LIKE THIS.

AN: Before we start. I just want to quickly mention that this is my first story since 2019. It’s not perfect in any way - grammatically and stylistically - English is not my first language. I truly attempted my best to make it look good for a “reader's” eye so many times I honestly can’t look at this story anymore. I’m a perfectionist who spends hours crying fat tears over this while trying to edit it. 

PLEASE LIKE & ENJOY < 3 send me a lil message what you think about my first child of many.

WARNING: I never completely watched “Defending Jacob” | age-gap between characters, slight 18+ content.you read at your own risk. Both Jacob and the reader are adults in this story. 6,5k words.

Happy early valentines day since I'm v sick at home < 3

He has a wife.

Surprisingly, this is the first thought of realization that your brain decided to process from all the things happening around you. The second your feet cross over the threshold of the most intimate looking living room that you ever had the chance to be inside. It feels like a fresh whiff of air or a train coming your way with all force - knocking out of you any sense of brain maturity you previously held.

The moment your eyes settle on him. He’s there. The head of the house. Just like you heard Jacob calling him playfully while you spend late evenings together, drinking instead of studying for upcoming exams. Always managing to comfort one another by telling outrageous family stories which happened over the weekend you’d spend apart with your own families. 

Standing all the way back in the kitchen area, cornered by some individuals in important attire, engrossed in a vivid conversation that required a lot of hand gesticulations and insulting words. Unfazed statue of an attractive man whose beauty cannot be surpassed by anything you’d seen in this world. Propped against the edge of the kitchen counter behind him, nursing a bottle of what seems to be a beer in one of his hands, while he calmly observes the scene in front of him with a stoic expression. 

You blink a couple of times, just making sure of the conviction you made that this man looks like he rather belongs in a movie scene or on the cover of the magazine not in depressing Newton, Massachusetts.

“Honey, come here for a moment. Jacob bought a guest.”

A lovely, nice wife.

You subconsciously add when the mature woman moved into your point of view, effectively making you lose your train of thought, you can still hear your best friend’s moans after his mom's affectionate attention.

“I’m Laurie, sweetheart.” she quickly introduces herself before her hands develop you in a tight welcoming hug, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laurie is a beautiful neat-looking woman, whose eyes spark with uncontrollable joy that Jacob already told you so much about, including the ways he could always make her forgive him for everything he managed to break as a child - or not. She’s giving you the idea of a perfect mother example, that kind of woman you’d like to become one day when you think about your own family, the one who always held her head high, no matter the obstacle she’s about to face on her way. The one giving warmth and light towards the family fire. That gives the warmest hugs of them all and cheeks so bright and sparkling as if she smiles like this all day.

“Mum’s a huger,” Jacob shrugged his shoulders at the look you gave him when his mother disappeared the second after promising to fetch something delicious for you after the long journey you both went through.

“And that's your--” you quickly pointed your head into the exterior of the house, trying to discretely indicate the place Jacob’s father was occupying. Not refusing yourself to cast another glance at the visionary man whose identity was still somewhat unknown, or you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

Please, don’t be his father...

“Head of the house,” Jacob jokes again, gently swaying on his feet visibly getting annoyed at something. He furrows his brows for a second before addressing you again “you know, lawyers never sleep, there’s always a cause worth fighting for.”

You nod your head in silent understanding, knowing how much Jacob went through when he was younger and how much his entire family paid for that.

“I’m going to be such a dick now, but I really have to pee,” Jacob complained under his breath before throwing a longing glance towards the stairs leading to the first floor of the house. You guessed that’s where the bathroom is. "mom will be back in a second and she’s going to show you the guest bedroom, just sit and ignore the legal gibberish coming from the kitchen.”

“But--” you instantly panicked. “please, don’t leave me here alone.” 

“Relax, you’ll be fine here. He’s not going to eat you, he doesn’t even know someone else besides his friends is home that’s how into work he usually is.”

Sending you a reassuring look, your best friend quite literally rushed through the hall and up the stairs as if he was on fire.

It’s weird to finally be in the house you heard so much about from Jacob's stories. Where you can see everything by your own eyes, the place your best friend grew up in and had his first memories from - home.

“Girlfriend?” It seems like you can't breathe, as you hear a deep masculine voice at the side of your ear completely throwing you out of your thoughts,

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re my son’s girlfriend?  It's your time to smile now, gently tipping your head back you let bubbles of amusement fill you,

 “No, we’re friends. I thought Jacob told you, Mr. Barber that-”

“Andy.” the tall male corrected you instantly,

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s okay to call me Andy. I don’t care,” the broad man shrugged his shoulders at you. 

You feel like your head is in the cloud and your ears are stuffed with cotton wool.

He has a wife, 

“Alright.”  You try to clear your throat before speaking again. “I thought Jacob told you-- his parents that he’s bringing a friend for a weekend.”

“Ah nice there, trying to avoid calling me by my name, I’ll give it to you.”

You didn’t even know you could flush crimson so easily, before you met Mr. Barber, or rather Andy no other men made you feel like this.

He was even more magnificent from up close as if it’s even achievable. Every detail of his face looked like it was fractured by God himself, who certainly put a lot of work into making such a masterpiece a living human being. Casting a shy glance at his pretty face, coated with a few days overgrowth beard that looked almost too scandalous to carry, to the way his broad shoulders moved with every breath he took, stretching the dress shirt he was currently wearing like painting on the canvas. Wide and big forearms looking like a superhuman in every definition of the word possible, to the way his hands spread, including the color of his creamy skin peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of his white crispy shirt, and fingers...

God, his fingers.

Thick digits wrapped each by each around the same bottle of the beer you have seen him holding during the second you stepped your foot into his house. Ceremonially holding the neck of the bottle as if it's the prices thing in his possession right now.

“You know how boys are” the man in front of you shook his head before you realized.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Y/N”

The chuckle that seeped out of Andy’s chest could have you on your knees if he wasn’t your best friend’s father in any type. He shook his head at you, eyes squinting in hidden adoration as he took a step back before placing the already forgotten and empty bottle on some random shelf with pictures and materials on it.

“Alright little girl, have it your way then, I’m Andy Barber, so nice to meet the only female friend my son has,” there’s this certain nip in the tone of his voice that makes you believe you just discovered something new about your best friend’s father no-one else your age possibly had before.

You bit onto your tongue the second his hand developed around yours completely taking you off the guard, warmth scattered across your entire body, almost letting you let a mewl out of your own the second his skin tasted yours. Fingers wrapped across yours like it's a beautiful lover's symphony, and maybe you just imagined the way the surface of his fingers brushed delicately across the bone of your knuckles for a few times before he squeezed your hand again - successfully knocking the air out of your lungs this time.

He has a wife.

Your subconscious warns you urgently, striving to immediately destroy the idea of any incidents happening shortly before they even have the chance to push any roots into your brain, as you feel your head shutting out on you, you feel completely dumb the moment you finally got the chance to stand face to face with your best friend father.

He called me a little girl not even two seconds ago.

“I can show you the guest bedroom if you’d like to.”

You send a glance towards the expanse of the kitchen again, where a lot of mature men fought nevertheless with one another. It was hard to understand what everything was about as in the middle of common English terms law language appeared that you knew nothing about.

“Aren’t you working?” you asked sheepishly, nodding towards the group of a man with a lot of papers in their hands, “Jacob said you do that a lot--”

“So you talk about me with my son huh?” there’s that cheeky smile of his again.

“I-no.” you shake your head before squirming at the intensity of his gaze on you. “he was just talking about how hardworking you are Mr--Andy.”

Andy hums under his breath, giving you the idea that he’s definitely thinking about what you said before smiling under his breath for one insane second before coming back to being all serious again. He breaths out quietly, brushing the side of his beard with one of his hands before setting on a scowl on his beautiful features.

“I’m going to show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“But Mr. Barber, you don’t have to I don’t want to cause any trouble, you’re working.”

“Y/N, stop being a brat and come with me I'm not taking no for an answer, Laurie is already picking groceries from the store to make you nice filling dinner before bed so c’mon.”

“I thought your wife was just---”

Andy snickered under his breath before giving you a hand ahead giving you a silent sign to walk up the stairs ahead of him.

He wanted you to lead?

“That’s how Laurie is, you can’t expect anything from this woman.”

Turns out the guest bedroom you were supposed to spend a few of the next weeks in was nowhere near ready for anyone’s arrival. It looked a little bit neglected but nothing you couldn’t cope with. You insisted Mr. Barber that you can change the sheets of the bed yourself, and try to tidy up a little here and there but the man of the house insisted on helping you with everything you could have encountered on your way.

Firstly, you never expected him to change the bed sheet for you since you were completely capable of doing it yourself, but you couldn’t complain since you got the chance to see the way his muscles work underneath the dress shirt he was probably wearing all day already that looked a little bit maintained. but you couldn’t complain about the view for sure.

“Why are you looking at me like this?” he asked you since the only noise of the room was the ruffled sheets in his hands,

“Well.” you swayed shamelessly at the tops of your heels, not understanding why but being alone with him made you drop your shyness, “It’s nice to see a man knowing his way with things.”

The silence in this room was almost unendurable.

Did I fuck up? 

“I know my way with things, yes.” he nodded his head in confirmation to your words.

“I live alone with my dad and I just can’t bear to look how much he despises to do it.”

He narrows his eyes at you in silent question,

“Changing the sheets I mean,” you laugh wholeheartedly at him before continuing “since I can remember it was my mom’s duty.”

“So now, you’re expected to do it for the rest of your life?” he rose his sharp eyebrow at you.

“I mean yeah I guess, it's not that hard,”

“But if you had a boyfriend or husband you’d do it for just as your mom did it for your father?”

“I wouldn’t mind my future husband to do it from time to time,” you mumbled under your breath, not being sure why imagining a man kindly similar to the man in front of you.

Andy hummed in understanding before throwing you the already prepared pillows.

"When a man is capable of doing household chores, he is also fully capable of taking care of you in any situation you want him to," Andy stated before pushing the corners of the bed sheet into the rightful position on the mattress. 

“Take it as advice from a married man,” he grants you with a quick wink before finally moving away from your temporary bed.

Secondly. You wouldn't expect the sheets to smell a little musky and rather too expensive to be a laundry detergent from the grocery store down the street. 

The subtle yet overpowering scent that wasn't belonging to your best friend rooted into your brain but still, that didn't stop you from nuzzling into the comfortable fabric right after Mr. Andy left your bedroom a while later, before muttering: 

“Dinner will be probably ready in two hours or so, take your time settling in. My bedroom is down the hall across the bathroom, Jacob’s room first door from the staircase, you got it sweetheart?” and when you let out an almost visible nod he left you with a little praise. 

He called you a good girl.

It’s the delicious smell of food that manages to wake you up from your slumber. Abruptly pushing yourself up, making sure to correct the glasses that are falling from the bone of your nose to a straight position before glancing back at the screen and sighing in defeat at the lack of words you wrote for the past two days.  

You thought about pushing some of your assignments and finishing them earlier before you and Jacob focus on the main paper that takes the most of the year credit. Your stomach grumbled, demanding to be properly fed, making you wince at the emptiness you felt before actually deciding on closing the barely started document - maybe, a good portion of food and an even better night of full sleep made everything better. You still had time to turn it up, you just had to make the best of it first,

Gently closing the lid of her laptop and throwing the device onto the plush covers of your temporary bed, that seemed to cry out for you whenever you looked back at it. Seeing all the velvet sheets and fuzzy pillows scattered across the mattress that smelled almost heavenly...

Stumbling through the threshold of the living room, as the delicious aroma of freshly prepared food completely overthrown your senses and stomach grumbled in need again as you see the prepared and decorated kitchen table,

You'd rarely used to eat properly since the day you moved out of your house. It’s a nice sight to see when there are no left-over packages of pizza or overused glasses of alcohol from when your dad used to have a little too much on Friday nights. 

There are four pieces of dinnerware set on the table and you’re not even sure how Jacob's parents were in possession of such things since family dinner wasn’t a normal thing for them.

Scrunching your eyes at the scene in front of you as if the overly decorated table burned your eyes you stepped past it and towards the kitchen,

“Hope you don’t mind--” You hear the voice from the other side of the kitchen, looking into the direction from the voice of your roommate comes in you the half-part of your friend sticking out of the cabinet, still looking for something to prepare. “It’s spaghetti night.”

“Hmm, fancy.” you joke under your breath as Jacob's head extends from the hidden place to look at you. “where’s your mom I thought she was the head of kitchen space?” you responded before scooping some drained pasta from the bowl right beside the sink before the Chef noticed. 

Eyes wondering over the prepared food as the dark-haired boy moved to season his special version of tomato sauce,

“Stop picking,” he grumbled before taking a ragged breath in, “they've had a fight again, and now dad left somewhere I don’t know if he’s going to attend dinner.”

“Oh I'm sorry, I thought your parents... you know... I love your mom. They look like a happy family.” 

Jacob immediately snickered under his breath before pushing the wooden spoon mindlessly onto the counter. “Mom and dad are currently in separation, this whole family gathering was made for you so you’d think we’re a normal family.” 

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, and this time you weren't sure if it’s because you’re still hungry. 

“Jacob I’m so sorry--” you whispered quietly, thoughts neglecting you for your individual family issues or what was left from it, “If you want we can go back--fuck, I can drive back--”

Jacob's eyes narrowed curiously at something behind you before he shook his head and spoke again, “can you put it on the table?”

The intense clutter of feet makes your eyes twitch and you’re definitely trying to be on your best behavior and stay as quiet as it’s only possible as the loud ramble goes off in the corridor and right after the front door snap shut behind him and the voices go through every single corner of the spacious house, you know it’s already over for you. Because there he is - tall, with his figure a little bit more taken care of since the last time you’d seen him, looking a little bit more like a husband, with his hair styled in a way that suits him a little more than you’d expect as his head lacks those fuzzy curls you remembered so well from few houses before. 

He definitely took a shower, 

Pushing your bottom lip out quietly studying him from your place at the table,

With Jacob's mom immediately switching into the “host” mode, still trying to keep up the appearance of the perfect family, ushering Mr. Andy inside the living room, urging him to finally sit down at the table and devour delicious dinner.

He’s nice and polite, you note from the first minute of the genuine conversation with his wife? hold with him, as he seems to be listening to every word that leaves his lips and joking around with your best friend trying to ease on the nervous atmosphere because he knows it too - how tense the situation around the table changed. 

Does he know that Jacob told you everything?

“Mr. Barber” you acknowledged him when he finally took the place at the table, with a big smile on his face he took the place to sit right beside you – what are the fucking odds. You thought to yourself. dressed up nice, in a stripe button-up shirt, with a few top buttons free, as you notice the black jeans that seem to fit his figure incredibly well - too well for your liking.

That little smirk at the corners of his mouth makes your eyes twitch with annoyance in such an easy way to make you annoyed already. His green eyes are observing you and he's fully taking his time to run his eyes all over the top of your figure, noticing a fitting white top, that suddenly felt too tight on you.

Throughout dinner, he never backed down his look towards you, and the worst part of it, you could feel the burden and heat of his eyes against the profile of your face during the entire feast, completely losing the rest of your appetite not even halfway through the dinner, and now aimlessly played up with your fork and the pasta rolled up onto the cutlery before pushing it back against the plate.

Perching your head up with the help of your hand you listened to the excited conversation that was held against the table, only to let it out the second after through the other ear.

Mr. Andy pushed his legs to the side of his chair, his front coming towards your side as his long forearms dropped over the side of your chair. You're not sure if he did it on purpose but from time to time you could feel the pads of his fingers brushing through the baby hairs on your neck, the locks you had formed every time you skipped a hair day and just decided to keep them up to stop bothering you as you took your nap. And every time the knuckle of his hand touched something of yours the sudden shiver rushed through your body making you squirm in your seat and ultimately lost the last attempts of gaining back the courage to finish dinner,

Then, there’s a sudden and completely unexpected question making you completely freeze in your spot. “So, how're the studies going Y/N?”

You're immediately thrown out of your thoughts at the sound of Mrs. Barber's voice, then the sudden silence appeared and you knew everyone was listening and looking at you right now. Cringing to yourself in your mind, you perched yourself more comfortably on your chair, keeping in mind to keep your back straight and not lean against the back of it.

“Pretty good” your voice came out more croaky as you'd want to, gently couching down the bile formed in your throat, you pushed your plate out of the way, to reach for the half-empty glass of red wine.

Before taking a small sip, “lot's of assignments” you shrugged your shoulders yearning for the red nectar. You'd hope it's gonna help you find the sleep you need and new power for the morning to start finished the pointless papers for your professor.

“Y/N has been working day and night on her term papers, she wants to be on top of her class grade.”

From the side of your eye, you could see a movement on your right side before Mr.Barber leaned a little bit forward in his seat as if trying to do it “unintentionally” 

“So, you’re an ambitious girl huh?” The heat of his breath and the tone of his voice makes your posture stiffen like a new repaired spring, he murmured it in such a way as if he was talking to his lover right before going down to devour the last bits of her, his hand perched itself on the edge of your seat, gently gripping onto the white decorating pillows Mrs. Barber spends a fortune on because in her option they perfectly matched with the curtains in the living room, the heat of his hand that’s coming onto the side of your legs makes you instantly push it away in a jerking motion, away from the sudden and completely unexpected heat.

“You could say that” you whispered back to him, not even taking your mouth out of your wine glass, lips gently brushing over the bitter liquid when he openly laughed, his chest brushing against your sleeveless arm making you lean away from him but before that Andy innocently threw his arms across yours and shoved you against the heat of his chest trying to make it look as if both of you are just joking around like good old friends you’re definitely shouldn’t be.

He tuts under his breath, “I love to push your buttons, you're so easy to work up, It's almost funny.” before his fingers ghosted over the side of your collarbones as if he was taking in what's in front of him, taking his time to memorize every aspect of her with his eyes.

Biting your tongue to the point where it could bleed when Mrs. Barber looks at you with such a smile you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to do.

“What's wrong? You're not hungry?”

Oh, I am. But the dish I want was not offered in the menu.

“No, everything is fine I just have to use the bathroom really quick, if you excuse me.” You quickly stood up from your place, 

“Remember that you’re cleaning after dinner,” Jacob called out after you before he proposed another glass of wine for his mother awaiting glass.

“Jacob! Y/N is our guest, don’t treat--”

“It’s completely fine Mrs.Barber, it’s a tradition of ours” you waved her hand in the air before letting him know that you still remember their deal before you muster one last glance towards the dark-haired man, who’s still looking at you with a slight grin on his gorgeous face.

      Your fingers are tightly gripping onto the edges of white porcelain sink as the cold droplets of waters cover her skin in different directions you’re gazing at her reflection in the mirror, with a scowl because of how stupid you could he be to let him get under your skin already on the first night.

You hear the dinner is still lasting as its best as the sudden and happy cheers reflects through the exterior of the walls and you can’t help but feel your heart tings a little because you know how much you could give to spend time with your own father. You considered yourself a bad friend, Jacob was the opposite, the bubbly exterior of her friend sometimes coming off on her but she preferred a silent house, silent night in, with a bag of chips and glass of wine at her lap and maybe if the landlord of their apartment building would let them, she would have a cat by her side too.

The sudden knock at the wooden material of the door has your head spinning, you’re not sure if you want to talk with Jacob. You knew you promised to be on your best behavior but knowing that Andy is constantly playing with you just for his humor is making your blood boil – you’re letting him do this all because of how off guard he caught you.

“It's taken” you called out grumpily, pushing the material of the towel against your face to rains it from the water but the knocking didn't stop there.

“What the fuck?” you grumbled again, irritation coming out of you in waves, “do you seriously can't hold it for two more minutes?” you tugged at the door handle with such a force and swing the doors open only to see someone you least expected.

“Do you mind?” you asked sarcastically, noticing the hold he still had on the white exterior, his palm was big, she took notice about his fingers, wide and they probably hold a lot of power in them.

Not that you cared.

“Laurie told Jacob to check up on you since you're taking so long--” he aimlessly told her, standing in the exterior of the room completely blocking the lights from the corridor

“How nice of you,” you mustered with a sweet fake smile to form on your lips, noticing how much he hated when you did that, his jaw immediately ticked, with a vein coming out at the side of his throat and his teeth tensed together.

“Stop being such a brat.”

You shockingly rose your eyebrows at him. “Excuse me? Repeat that?” You dared.

Andy chuckled under his breath, fingers pushing against the door to open them even wider before he moved his feet a little forward coming into the room with you, his eyes narrowing and face coming dangerously close.

The dark dimension of his green eyes made your stomach churn with something you couldn’t even name. This guy was making you so confused.

“You heard me.” he grumbled, voice low and gratingly with something else, “you're acting like a fucking brat.” he spats out the last words as her back got shoved against the bathroom wall, right beside the towel cabinet.

Your mouth opened in shock.

“How dare you run your mouth on me,” you growled out, fingers coming to tip onto his chest, aimlessly pointing at the bare skin. “your wife and son are downstairs and you already have the audacity to---”

Andy shook his head, fingers shifting onto her forearms to turn her back flat against the wall before taking a step ahead, his chest completely flush against yours as your breathing quickened due to his proximity. “Shut up--” he ordered and to her surprise you instantly did.

He immediately picked her behavior up, “Hmm-” his nose skimmed the side of her jaw and she could swear her toes curled when his cologne overwhelmed her senses. “just as I've said. Good girl.”

You could swear to God, your heartbeat was about to rip out of your chest, and it was almost embarrassing. You were sure Andy could hear it beating due to how close she was.

Your mouth opened in a sudden urge to let out a puff of air when his tongue skimmed out of his lips to taste the sweetness of your skin. The gentleness and skill he operated with had your brain turning into mush, 

“M' sorry.” he whispered into the hollow of your neck, taking a deep breath of you  “couldn't help myself with you.” and then his tongue runs against the stripe of your throat towards your jaw, and you could swear that your legs are giving out under the weight of them.

“Oh my god--” you’re almost squealing to yourself when the rough palms of his hands push against her shoulder blades you’re able to feel every part of him on yourself, or maybe every part of you on him, it's like you got turned into one. The hotness that’s building inside and in every place his hands keep touching.

“Mr.Barber--- what are you--” and then you’re gasping, as his teeth grasp onto the edge of your lips pulling the flesh back only to completely get lost into the feeling of the plump sweetness of your taste. You let him in, eagerly waiting for his tongue to battle with yours in soft dominance, as his hands wander over her whole. They knead every flesh on his way, he's taking everything you have in offer for him. igniting inside of her the fire she never knew she possessed.

“It’s Andy, doll.”

Breathless – both of you – as he lets you take a time to breathe, fingers skimming along the side of your calloused cheekbones,pads of his fingers tracing the reddened skin of your lips and he can't help but smile when he observes your chest moving in need for air and eyes wild and ready for everything.

“Please.” neither of you were expecting the word to come out your mouth, it shocks you but it's there, let out into the silence of the bathroom. You don't want to take it but and you damn hope he won't turn away from you.

“What my doll wants, hmm?” Andy muttered under his nose, you had to take a second to rethink what he said was even real and it wasn't a figment of your imagination, “you want daddy to touch you? You’re going to be my good girl?” he cooed calmly, before letting his hands drop from your body, leaving you cold and needy.

What?

He's sending you one last look, his mouth quirks in humor when he notices how displeased and angry you can be in a second. Before he turns away from you and heads right towards the door.

You act before you think, and there’s something inside of you that is screaming at you by doing such a thing but your hands grip his massive arm in panic, tugging him back to face you again. His eyebrows rising in silent question before you take courage to mutter

“Please.” you’re whining like a lost puppy, gently carding his hand in yours and tugging him back to your previous position. As your eyes continue to shine with need.

Andy’s furrows his brows for a moment, head-turning, and if you didn't know him before that way, you’d say he looks like a damn cute, confused puppy. “You want daddy’s fingers?”

Biting the corner of your lips your not even sure if you’re able to say it out loud, You love how rough he looks now, giving you a different side of his physique you never gets a chance to see before. You’re wriggling under his stare, not feeling comfortable at all. The silver wedding band on his fingers is tempting you, you can’t help but imagine how would it feel inside of you, how the whole idea of getting a married man to touch you entice you.

A few hours ago you absolutely treated him like your best friend's father and now you’re willing to push even further? Were you ready to look at him from a different angle? Are you ready to risk years of friendship over a married man?

You swallowed quietly as Andy still looked at you expecting the answer, his knuckles gently grazing over the naked skin on her arm, turning it downwards to til he touched outside of her wrists making her brain turn into a mush.

“You know what---fuck you,” you grumbled annoyed, finally coming back into your senses but that's not what Andy was expecting. You hurried away from him, making sure to keep a distance in between both of you before looking him straight in the eyes, a silent challenge for him to take. “don't you ever touch me again,” you scowled before pushing a finger into his direction, trying to threaten him enough

He pushed the air out of his lungs painfully slow, too slow for her liking because you had a feeling something was building inside that he was about to let out on her. “You were doing so good--” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and turning his back to you and marching towards the door, and when you thought he's about to leave you observed the way his palm pushed against them making sure they're closed before his fingers cleverly turned the lock closed with a sudden click

Your stomach immediately churned in excitement you didn't even know you should feel the moment he leaned his broad shoulders against them. Crossing his large arms across his chest he spends a good second just observing you from when he stood.

“Acting like the brat you are,” he clicked his tongue at you, and arrogant behavior coming out immediately, he acted like a boy whenever he didn't get what he wanted, and you got the first example of it. “since the first minute you-” he shook his head as if his memories of their unsuccessful first meeting flowed his memory

“Maybe you should make up your fucking mind--” you then threw your hands up annoyingly, “calling me a good girl only to change it to brat the second later. Is that some kind of kink of yours?”

Andy chuckled under his breath, his eyes squinting in hidden adoration for you before his entire posture changed immediately.

“Better watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed at her, “because I'm sure you won't like the consequences.”

You narrow your eyes at him subconsciously screaming at yourself to bit onto your tongue before speaking but it’s too late, your change of posture challenges him, you see it in the way he curses under his breath before all you see is him charging upon you.

Fingers digging into your jeans, as you gasp in shock the second you feel your jeans loosening on your body, the stoic expression of the man in front of you is enough for you to fumble with your tongue, knowing in the back of your mind the apology words you know but it’s too late. Thick digit, you feel it coming down the front of your pants, marching through the material of your panties without not even a fumble, you feel his skin on your skin playing with your fold and you swear your knees are giving up on you the second he finds his right place in between your legs - you look down on him, mouth opened in shock by the sudden situation, his entire fist pulled down inside your pants making it as his job to destroy you.

“Oh my Go--” you squeal as a warm finger push into the right place between your folds, sliding in without harm as you close your eyes in embarrassment at how wet you are for him.

Andy’s breath palms upon your face, he’s thrusting his body onto yours gently muttering sweet sugar-coated praises toward you but all you can hear is the blood that finally reaches your ears. 

“Please don’t make me come for the first time in your wife’s bathroom” you whine through the pleasure that’s completely taking over your senses. You’d still plead to him, hands grabbing onto the one that’s been working on your pussy with such a precision you feel like crumbling out into a creme in his home bathroom. While he supports his entire body weight on the tiles behind your curled up from bliss body.

Andy just chuckles into your hair, granting you with a quick kiss to your sweaty forehead before circling his finger harder onto your clit, just as a loud moan escapes your lips. Andy tugs his fingers out of your pussy, your entire body is tingling, stomach churned into much when he holds your entire weight before you can tumble to the ground.

And then within a blink of her eyes, he sends her one last look as if saying “it's not over” and turns around again catching a glance over the worked up muscles on his back moving with every step of his silhouette when he yanks the door open and marches down the corridor as if nothing had happened.

It takes you some time to understand what's happening, as the place falls into complete tranquility but the sparkles in the air, are telling you that nothing you’d seen and heard tonight was imagined – even when you really want to believe it.

Hearing the pad of his heavy feet stops against the wooden floor before his voice tells and assure your best friend and his wife that everything is alright with you.

But was it? Now when you think about it, that you have to spend the rest of the weekend break with the guy who’s your best friend's father who just fingered you for a few minutes with you in his own bathroom.

And it was only beginning.

The wrong never felt so right.

an2: send me a lil’ message what u think of this < 3

Jacob, after finding out his best friend is fucking his father: 

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