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#a bit delayed but i've been so busy this past few days
predestinatos · 5 months
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love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ
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chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view
word count: 4k
tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.
minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath
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note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.
warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering
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“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.
Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.
You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.
“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.
You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.
“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.
The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.
Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.
You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.
You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.
Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.
“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.
Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.
“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.
Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?
Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.
He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.
But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.
“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.
“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.
“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.
Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.
“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.
His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”
You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.
And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?
He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.
Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.
You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.
“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”
Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.
“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.
You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.
And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.
His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”
For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.
Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”
His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.
Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.
The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”
Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.
As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.
The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”
You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.
“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.
“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.
Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.
His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.
You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.
“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.
The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.
As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.
You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.
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@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland
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misshoneybee · 2 years
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˖  ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖
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— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —
Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Nanny!Reader Content Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg undertones, somnophilia, dubious/non consent, age gap (Reader is early twenties, Andy is mid-forties), fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, general smut bc this is kinktober so minors, dni!! Word Count: 4.7k  A/N: Here we are!!! This is my first Kinktober and I am nervous to write all these new kinks and characterizations but also incredibly excited. I'm so sorry that this was so delayed, my loves! Work has been hell for the past week but I've finally had time to proofread this. As always, I do my best to keep my reader as inclusive as possible but please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve upon it! There's no use of Y/N or anything else where you need to insert information to read just because that's my personal preference! Anyway, please enjoy and I'd adore some feedback, if anyone feels so inclined! Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Fifteenth Summary: Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?
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Although, you couldn’t exactly say that you loved your job, the accommodations and compensation made what little aggravation you faced in the course of a workday well worth it. While most students from your college town had picked up odd jobs in busy restaurants or quaint little shops, you’d become a live-in nanny for the Barber family. It was a perfect situation really—your tuition was covered by scholarships, you only worked in the afternoons and evenings, you didn’t have to pay for housing, the ‘work’ was a piece of cake, and your employer was the hottest man you'd ever fucking seen.
Jacob was a pretty quiet kid—and maybe a bit too old to have a nanny, at the age of thirteen—so you were essentially just paid to ensure he didn’t sneak out of the house and ate a somewhat balanced dinner on the nights that his dad got home late from work or other engagements. The family unit was small with only Jacob and his father and, now by extension, you. 
District Attorney Andy Barber had quietly left his wife a year earlier and moved he and his son away from their small hometown to start over just as you’d arrived in the city to begin your third year of school. You’d met in the aisles of a dark liquor store as you stood in front of the vast selection of wine, teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes scanned all the labels on the red varietals: merlot, cabernet sauvignon, Malbec, pinot noir, Sangiovese. 
Seeing your hesitation at making a selection, he’d easily swooped in and found you something sweet, saying it reminded him of you with a charming grin. It was an unassuming bottle with a minimalistic label—a vin santo that flooded your tongue with a sweetness that reminded you of warm summer days and cherry jam. It was perfect—and that was where it all began.
You’d crossed paths in your small college town several more times and now, more than a year later, you’d settled into the Barber’s lives seamlessly. The big colonial house, tucked away in the gated neighborhood, was quiet as the clock approached one in the morning. Andy had needed to attend some gala, to rub shoulders and grease palms and do all other sorts of lawyerly things, so after dinner, you had taken it upon yourself to clean up around the house after Jacob had gone to bed.
The kitchen had been cleaned from dinner you’d made, the dishes had been washed and put away, and you’d finished the laundry. All of the linens had been tucked away in the hall closet but you found yourself hesitating at the door of Andy’s empty bedroom as sleepiness began to sink into your bones. There were just a few shirts that needed to be hung in his closet. You rocked back and forth on your heels, deliberating silently as you propped the basket on your hip, looking up and down the silent, empty hall as if he’d appear and chastise you for even entertaining the idea. He’d never said his room was off-limits to you; in fact, Andy had always told you to make yourself at home. 
It would only be for a few minutes anyway.
Stifling a yawn, you quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the dark room. Flipping the light-switch turned on a lamp, dimly bathing the unfamiliar space in a warm, comforting light. It looked just like you’d imagined it—not that you’d spent a long time picturing your employer’s room. 
No—never. 
Certainly not when he came down to the kitchen on Saturday mornings in worn flannel pajama pants and made coffee for the two of you to share in silence as Jacob slept in, and definitely not when you lay in your bed, in the room just next door to his, with your fingers slipping beneath the silky fabric of your panties as you remembered the feeling of his eyes on you from across the dinner table.
Feeling your face grow warm as you shoved those thoughts away, you quickly opened the door to his closet. It was as organized as you’d have thought it to be. The hangers and collars were all turned in a uniform direction, the shirts organized by shade and hue from dark to light. Humming softly to yourself, you finished the chore quickly before something on the foot of his pristinely made bed caught your eye. 
The fall air that had invaded the New England coast had brought a chill, and along with it, a shift in his wardrobe. It was a deep, forest green sweater of his that had silently become your favorite item in his closet. Cautiously, you picked up the article and bit your lip to stop a quiet sigh from escaping your lips. It was soft and you’d imagined yourself running your hands over his chest while he wore it dozens of times.
The clock on his bedside table read just after one; when Andy had left that afternoon, he’d mentioned that it would be close to two before he’d return home from Boston. You knew exactly what you wanted. Padding softly across the room, you closed the door with an almost silent ‘click’ of the latch. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your heart beating against your breastbone and the way your panties had grown damp at just the thought.
There was a bit of a thrill as you slipped out of your ratty collegiate sweatshirt and allowed it to fall on to the soft carpet without a sound, your short cheer shorts following suit. Bare to the cold room, you felt goosebumps prickle your skin and you weren’t sure if your nipples had grown hard from your admittedly overactive imagination, or the exposure. 
Slipping the woven cashmere over your head, you let out a soft sigh as the fabric caressed your skin and enveloped you in a scent that was purely Andy. It was something expensive; you’d seen the bottle on his bureau. A sweet, smoky wood scent that clung to his skin and the fibers of his clothes—fuck, you wanted to be covered in it. 
Crawling on to the king-sized bed that took up the center of his spacious room, you couldn’t help but giggle as you sank into the plush, white duvet that covered it. Your fingers and toes curled against the cotton, and, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d have to smooth it all out before you returned to your own room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. 
All you could think about was Andy in this bed, his hand working his hardened cock as quiet groans strained from his throat. You knew he did it every night before he fell asleep. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that, just separated by a single wall, you listened carefully and covered your mouth, fucking yourself along with him. 
Allowing your eyes to drift shut, your fingers trailed down your body, rubbing the damp fabric that clung to the lips of your wet pussy, whimpering softly as you brushed against the hardened nub of your clit. God—you wished it was him. His fingers teasing your cunt, his tongue brushing over your nipple before grazing it with his teeth.
Clenching the duvet, that was covered in the musky, heavy scent of him, with white knuckles, it didn’t take long for you to reach the precipice. Biting your lip, almost painfully, you stifled a cry. The way your walls fluttered around your fingers, as your thighs clenched hard, and your toes curled into the soft sheets made you feel like you were flying. Writhing against the now too-warm bed, you felt that fuzzy, pleasurable feeling wash over you like the sun’s rays as you came back down. Touching yourself had never felt so good before—how could you go back to your normal nightly activities?
Slipping your hand from the sodden fabric, it was like your body was on autopilot. Your breathing slowed as your post-orgasm brain returned from the stratosphere. It wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes for just a minute. One minute, then you’d take off his too-soft sweater and get rid of any evidence that you’d even been here. One minute, then you’d go to your own room and lay down and go to sleep with your little secret.
Just one minute, then…
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The lights were off in the silent house. Andy carefully allowed the heavy front door to close behind him, turning the deadbolt as he shut out the rest of the night. Running a hand over his scruff-covered chin, he let out an uninhibited yawn. The day had been long, the night even longer, and he longed for sleep. Leaving his briefcase in his office, and his rumpled jacket folded over his arm, he quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall.
With a gentle knock on Jacob’s door, and no answer in response, he quietly peered inside. A muss of brown hair rested on his pillow, barely visible under the plaid quilt that covered the bed. Jacob hadn’t snuck out since you’d taken on the task of nannying him, but Andy always liked to be certain, not quite trusting the little shit—and for good reason. Quietly closing the door, he continued down the hall before coming to rest in front of your room. He frowned, looking at the floor for that telltale strip of light that usually spilled from beneath the door and tattled to him that you were still awake, usually reading or listening to music or watching something on your laptop. 
You were a night owl, and it wasn’t even two in the morning; you never fell asleep this early unless you had an exam the next day and he knew that wasn’t the case. It was the weekend. He’d gotten to know your schedule intimately, getting a copy of your class and assignment schedule from you under the guise of staying in the loop. Truth be-told, he just wanted to know how your days went and where you were. Erring on the side of caution, he gently rapped a knuckle against your door, quietly murmuring your name just inches away from the wooden barrier, knowing you’d hear, if you were actually awake.
Met with silence, he felt a tug in his chest. He knew you weren’t the lightest sleeper; once when he’d apologized for doing lawn work on an early Saturday morning, you’d told him, with a sheepish blush, that you hadn’t even noticed the loud mower outside your window. Knocking once more, louder this time, he called your name with no response. Resting a hand on your doorknob, he hesitated. 
Though it was unspoken, he’d deemed your room off-limits…but what if you were hurt? Or sick? What if something had happened to you after Jacob went to bed? Talking himself out of walking away, he turned the cold, metal knob. The door opened silently and he hesitated before taking a step inside, his eyes searching the pitch black for your form. 
Adjusting to the dark, his eyes could make out the frilly pink sheets of your still-made bed. With a frown, he flicked on the light and took in the space that he’d only ever caught occasional glimpses of. Through the worry, there was a pique of intrigue. Everything was shades of pastel, a little stuffed bunny propped up against your pillow. It was all so innocent and girly. Sweet and saccharine, just like you.
A light on your nightstand got his attention; a lump in his throat, and the bulge in his tight slacks, grew as the shape registered. Nope, it wasn’t your phone. Fuck. A little vibrator rested on your bedside table, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He’d heard the quiet vibrations through your shared wall before but seeing the culprit and everything else was something new entirely.
He always knew you were girly, loving cute things and being just as sweet, but you— 
You were missing.
He didn’t have time to jerk off as he tried to remedy all of the new things he’d learned about your bedroom. Muttering a curse under his breath, he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock before taking a step back and taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself. He had to get a fucking grip—he argued against murderers for a living, for Christ’s sake. Would your vibrator and sweet little bedroom really be his downfall?
Your car was still in the driveway—you weren’t in the living room and the den had been dark when he’d come in as well. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly found you listed under his favorites and allowed it to dial. His brow furrowed when he heard a quiet sound from the next room over. In just three strides, he was in front of his room and with one more, he was inside as the phone call went to voicemail.
The lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the space, as well as your sleeping form that was sprawled over the center of his king-sized bed. A cocktail of relief and arousal flooded him at once. You were safe. You were home.
But you were also in his bed. And aside from his sweater, only wearing a pair of satin-y, baby pink panties that were molded perfectly to your ass which he could plainly see in the warm light that filled the room. You rested on your belly, fingers gripping his pillow beneath your head tight, with one leg hiked up the mattress as you snuggled into the plush bedding. Closing the door quietly behind him, his legs carried him over to the bed without a second thought. His eyes trailed over your relaxed body and affection almost made the corner of his lips tick upwards.
You looked so sweet, your eyes closed gently as your thick lashes brushed your soft cheek. That sweetness was cut when he noticed a damp patch on your panties and the way that soft sighs of sleepy pleasure slipped from your lips as you rocked your hips into the mattress, oblivious to your newfound audience as some dream played out behind your eyelids.
The aquamarine of his eyes caught fire as he watched you shift in your sleep. Draping his jacket over the armchair in the corner of his room, he stalked across the room, pausing as he landed beside the bed. Straight, white teeth digging into his lip, he held back a groan as you shifted, seeking out comfort as his sweater rode up to your waist, revealing more of you to his starving gaze. 
He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you and he was almost certain that no amount of deep breathing could resolve it. He needed you out of there before he blew a load in his pants like a fucking teenager. Tucking his length in to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he carefully sat down beside you. The foam mattress didn’t move you in the slightest and he mumbled a curse under his breath before resting a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle shake as he softly murmured, “Sweetheart?”
A little groan slipped through your lips, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as you held on to the clouds of sleep that still filled your head. Turning over, you mumbled something incomprehensible before your breathing leveled back out. 
Looking at his hand still resting on your smooth thigh, he resisted the urge to give the cushion of your skin a soft squeeze. Slowly trailing his eyes up your frame, his eyes darkened. Your nipples strained against the light knit material, begging to be pinched and laved. If you tempted him when you were awake, wandering the house in those tiny shorts and tight tops, watching you sleep was another circle of hell where he was condemned only to look but never to touch.
You two had danced around one another since you’d met at that liquor store. How could he know you wanted it as badly as he did?
“Princess,” Andy tried once more, his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg as he spoke at a normal volume, “Wake up for me, sweetheart.”
He watched the way your nose crinkled slightly in your sleep and a small smile spread across his lips. It was as if your subconscious was absorbing his words, blocking them from reaching your conscious mind and waking you up. As he gave your leg one more gentle shake, you let out a quiet, whiny groan consisting of one word, “Daddy…”
Andy couldn’t help the way his grip on you tightened at the two-syllable word, the little blood that was left in his head, rushing to his groin. Fuck—there was no mistaking that. He barely noticed the way his hand had drifted further up your leg; he needed to touch you more, to see all of you.
You’d just called him daddy.
He could be your daddy for tonight. 
Or, for as long as you’d allow him. 
Clearing his throat, he gave one last, half-hearted attempt at waking you, “Baby?”
“Daddy, please…” You breathed out, your fingers gripping the soft blankets as your dreams continued to roll like a film reel, unaware of the way that their subject’s hand had drifted up to your hip, toying with the elastic edge of the only barrier separating him from you. Your voice was so innocent as you whimpered out, “Need you, daddy…”
At that, it didn’t take long for Andy to slip down the bed, gently parting your already spread legs further, leaving enough space for him to lay between them. With a tentative hand, he brushed his thumb over the wet spot that had darkened the light fabric of your panties, begging for his attention. Your hips jerked as he dragged his finger down the cleft of your folds and a low chuckle gently shook the bed.
“Shh…” He shushed your soft whimper, watching as your brows drew together, seeking out the feeling again and rocking your hips upward. 
Fuck—he’d wanted this since he saw you standing in that dark store. You’d looked so sweet in your little, frilly pastel dress, your exposed décolletage shining with some body shimmer that smelled like vanilla, even from a foot away. That was you; always so sweet, so good.
Pressing a gentle kiss to the center of your covered, private area, feeling the dampness against his slightly parted lips, he hummed softly, reassuringly as his thumb continued to drift up and down that same spot tortuously, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 
You spent all your time doing things for everyone else: your family, your friends, him, his son—when was the last time that you’d been taken care of? When was the last time you’d let your walls down enough to even allow it?
In that blissful twilight of sleep, you were so soft, vulnerable and receptive to his care. You’d allow it, even if you didn’t know you were.
Holding his breath, trying to stay as silent and as still as possible, Andy gently rolled the lacy, elastic band down your legs as his eyes stayed trained on your face for any hint that you were coming around. Gently maneuvering your sleep-laden limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between, you barely shifted as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders.
Running a finger down the bare, sensitive skin of your puffy slit, he groaned as he collected the proof of your arousal on the tip of his digit. “Oh, sweetheart…” Using his thumbs, he gently spread the petals of your sex and had to bite his lip to stifle himself from cursing at the sight. The low light glistened against the wetness that clung to your skin as your hips shifted and your brows pulled together, feeling the cold air brush against your exposed clit. He cooed, “You’re so wet, baby. This all for me? All for Daddy?”
“Mm…” You mumbled, your cheek pressed against the pillow as your hands drifted up your body, dragging the hem of his sweater up over your tummy slowly. You could feel the last glowing embers of sleep slowly dying, with each brush against your skin pushing you back towards the waking world but you were so comfortable. You were enrobed in Andy’s scent, that sweet smoke that made you feel like nothing bad could happen to you as long as it was near.
Andy’s thumb brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and he let out a low, dark chuckle as your hips gave a sudden jerk at the direct stimulation. Not wanting to torture you—not yet at least—he traced circles around the bud, careful not to touch it directly again. After several moments, he carefully slipped one finger inside, finding no resistance if your state of need. Giving it a few, agonizingly slow, experimental pumps, he watched hungrily as his digit glistened with your wetness each time it slid out.
With his eyes trained on your blissful expression, he gently slipped in a second, longer finger beside the first and watched hungrily as your body adjusted to the new sensation, a soft whimper breaking through your parted lips at the stretch; his fingers were far larger than your own. 
“Daddy’s going to eat your sweet pussy, baby.” As his fingers hooked upwards gently, they pressed teasingly against the spongy pillow of your g-spot, your hips bucking forward again at the sudden pressure that made your squeeze around him. You were balancing on the precipice of wakefulness now, one foot still in that perfect dreamland and the other stepping towards the seemingly real, gentle brushes against your skin.
With a gentle kiss pressed to your hip bone, his tongue finally licked a broad, languid stripe through your folds from your entrance to the red button of your clit that continued to beg for his attention. “Fuck, you taste like candy…” Watching the way your tight hole clenched around nothing; he immediately imagined filling it with his cock, Andy groaned, “Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had.”
Closing his eyes, he groaned as he leaned back down, using his tongue to lave over your sensitive skin; he needed to taste you. Sleep was slipping away, and you weren’t certain if it was a dream when your hands threaded through a head of hair that rested at the apex of your thighs. The grip of your fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair as his lips finally wrapped around you swollen clit, giving it a hard suck before letting it go. The scrape of your nails over his scalp mixed a quick lick of pain into his pleasure.
“Oh god—fuck!” You felt your body begin to shake as an orgasm barreled towards you, forcing your sleepy eyes to finally open.
“Watch your language, princess.” Andy’s eyes found yours open and he grinned wolfishly at the surprise and arousal that filled your expression, “Good girls don’t talk like that.”
The wet muscle dipped inside your channel, his nose nudging against your clit before he dragged his tongue slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traced the tip around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go and repeating the movement again and again. He could feel your body tensing as an orgasm quickly approached and he slipped his fingers back into your soaking cunt, your thighs quivering at the added feeling.
“Andy—ah!” A whine was pulled from your throat, silencing your sweetly confused question as you fell over the edge.  
He grinned against your skin at the shattered cry, sucking your clit just slightly harder than a moment earlier before gently scraping his teeth over it and making your thighs squeeze around his head. He murmured against your wet pussy, his voice sending vibrations through your body, “What’s my name, baby?”
Your mind was floating away and all you could concentrate on was his touch and the way he made you feel so little and taken care of as he played with you. Shaking your head, your sweet voice came out shakily, “I don’t—”
“I know I haven’t made you that stupid, baby.” His thumb circled your clit, tugging up on the hood of it and exposing the pearl to his greedy eyes before they flicked back up to yours as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him, “What’s my name?”
Capturing it between his lips, he sucked hard, and you felt the wetness dripping from your hole onto his duvet, “Daddy!” You finally cried out, failing to silence yourself as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, collapsing back onto the bed as he played you like a violin, feeding off your every reaction. “God! Oh—feels so good…Daddy, please!” There was a pout on your lips that contrasted with the way your hips rocked against his every touch, unsure if you wanted him closer or to stop the sensations that were becoming too much.
“You like when Daddy plays with your princess parts while you sleep? Yeah?” He let out another deep chuckle against your cunt as a little chirp was pulled from you at his naughty words. He continued lowly, “You know I had to when I found this beautiful little girl in my bed, cunt soaked and waiting for me to come home.” 
You moved your hips, chasing that pleasure with each changing angle. The sounds were almost depraved; every lick of his tongue and brush of his fingers forced a wet noise into the room that was mostly quiet aside from the constant melody of your breathy moans.
His hips rocked into the mattress, seeking out his own pleasure as you whimpered, “Fuck, that’s my good girl—wearing my sweater and those slutty, little panties. Gonna keep those, baby. Never getting them back.” Slipping two fingers back into your tight cunt, he pumped them as his mouth focused on your little pearl, “Now come for me again, sweetheart.”
“Can’t!” You cried out, your lip quivering as your second climax barreled towards you, and you shook your head, begging, “No! Too sensitive, daddy…”
“You wanna be sensitive?” He landed a smack to your overworked button with three fingers.
“No!” You whimpered, feeling tears well in your eyes, sniffling as the pleasure made your body shake. 
“Better make that sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers or Daddy’s gonna give you a lot more than this…” With dark eyes, he watched as the pleasure finally took hold once again, dragging you under.
“Daddy!” You whimpered as he pressed against your g-spot with two thick fingers, sucking your clit at the same time and shoving you over the edge. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you finally squealed, “Oh! I’m coming!”
You felt your walls flutter as he helped your body ride the crest of the wave of your second orgasm, licking you slowly as a new flood of wetness coated his tongue like a nectar that he never wanted to stop drinking. He could live and die between your thighs, happily.
Your toes curled as your thighs clenched around his head, it was almost as if you were trying to force Andy away when the stimulation became too much but he held your thighs open despite the pleasured cries that filled the. room.
“That’s it…Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmured, helping you come down from the edge that you’d been balancing on for far too long. Watching through half-hooded eyes, you hummed softly as he rubbed your still trembling thigh with one hand and cleaned the fingers of his other with his mouth, a sly smirk on his full lips.
“I…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning as you finally came back from that floaty place where your head had been since waking.
‘Holy shit.’
Covering your body with his, your eyes widened innocently before he caught your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He tasted like whiskey and you, and it felt like a drug that you’d easily become addicted to. Andy’s hand landing a smack on your ass made you jump, pulling away from the kiss that had lulled you into a false sense of security.
He chuckled as you let out a quiet whine at the sting his hand left behind, sitting back up and undoing his belt with dark eyes that were still focused on you, “Now get that little ass in the air. It’s time to let Daddy use this sweet little hole, princess.”
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therealvampira · 7 months
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may i request gregory violet x reader but childhood friends to lovers please? (and reader has similar interests and personality as him too) have a nice day/night :]
Hi!! You have a fantastic day/night yourself, as well! My apologies for the delay, I've been really busy the past few weeks (like really busy), but thank you for your patience! I'm always happy to take up requests, so without further ado, here you go dear:
Word Count: 1512
Warnings: None?
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“We may be stuck here for a while, I fear,” you spoke, looking outside the lengthy library window before you, resting your face in your palms. The boy next to you said nothing, but gave a little nod whenever you spoke. 
Violet was always considerably quiet, especially before you formed a friendship with him. However, it was almost like he had almost no awareness of the world around him whenever he was drawing, which he did- a lot.
The slight pitter patter of raindrops hitting the windows that you heard just moments earlier now turned into a great storm, rain falling heavily as the trees danced around in the gray horizon, lighting occasionally lighting up the room. As inconvenienced as you were by the storm suddenly coming and taking over the sky, it felt almost peaceful. Hearing the sound of the thunder rolling lightly and the wind whirling almost lulled you into a light doze, before a loud crack of lighting lit up the room, the mighty sound causing your heart to stop for a fraction of a second. As you looked to your left, you were surprised to see the boy next to you hadn't even flinched a bit or looked up from his paper. 
Did he even realize there was a storm?
“How long do you think we will have to stay here?” You asked, trying to break the almost deafening silence. Normally, you didn’t mind it, but you were starting to dread the idea of sitting in plain silence while you waited for a storm to pass. 
Eventually, you started to give up since all he’d given you thus far were just a few shrugs, and very minimal responses. You got out your own book from your bag, flipping through it to find an empty page, moving one of the candles closer to yourself in order to see better. You reached for your charcoal pencil, realizing you didn’t have it on you at the moment. 
“Damn..” you muttered under your breath. As you sat up again from digging through your bag, you were slightly surprised to see Violet holding another pencil out to you, waiting for you to grab it.
“Oh, I…thank you,” you spoke, feeling relieved. It was strange, how such a small gesture, such a simple act of kindness coming from him made you feel so content. Even being friends with Violet for so long, it made you feel special whenever he’d do something for you, even as miniscule as handing you an extra pencil. You couldn’t resist as your lips curled into a smile as you took the instrument from him. Your hands brushed against each other when you grabbed the pencil, making it difficult to not blush.
It was something you’d never wanted to admit, but you did in fact have a crush on Violet. You couldn’t help but love all of his quirks, and his unique style and way of seeing things. In your eyes, there was nobody like him, and there never would be anyone else that lights a candle to him. You watched him as he stroked the pencil across the paper, a look of deep focus spread across his face. Your eyes unintentionally drifted from his sketch, up to his face as you quickly tried to look at him, admiring his beautiful features. For the first time in your life, you genuinely believed your heart was going to stop when, before you could look away, his gaze ever so slightly shifted to you, a small grin on his face as he briefly glanced at you, looking back down at his paper. 
Like him, you were also into art yourself, but seeing how detailed, precise, and creative his drawings always were, you always felt a bit inferior as far as your art skills. You watched as he drew carefully and meticulously, trying to pick up any techniques that he used. He caught onto this, now turning to face you, the same grin from earlier on his face again. You smiled back at him, and even chuckled a bit- both out of embarrassment, but also the simple fact that you were just happy to be spending time with him. 
“Would you like some help?” Violet asked, seemingly already knowing the answer. You nodded, and fought back a small laugh again, noticing that your heart rate was a bit quicker as he moved his seat closer to yours. He grabbed your hand while it still grasped the pencil, carefully guiding it across the paper. 
“What are you drawing, now?” you asked, given that you didn’t really have much to build off of yet, anyway. 
“I’m trying to finish what you started,” he spoke, starting to add more depth to your drawing from earlier, which was of the cloudy and stormy view from outside. It was remarkable how easily he could add so much life to any simple sketch. 
“See? You’d want to do it this way, instead. Don’t shade too much at once, a little at a time will do, so you don’t sabotage it,” Violet explained, still holding your hand in his as he moved it across the paper. 
“Right, I see,” you replied. He was sitting so close to you that it almost made you shiver, and the feeling of his hand holding yours made you weak. You didn’t even want to draw anymore, you just wanted him to guide your hand across the paper forever. Not only that, you wanted to kiss him too. For so long, you wondered what it would be like to finally press your lips against each other’s, but you couldn’t. It was nearly impossible to tell if he felt the same way that you did, and you didn’t know how he’d take it. 
He withdrew his hand, moving back to his original position, leaving you to finish the drawing at your own pace. You felt an emptiness where he was sitting closely behind you, and you were suddenly brought back to reality once you realized he moved back. You lazily stroked the pencil against the paper, your mind going completely elsewhere as you kept taking brief glances at him. 
As you looked at him another time, his gaze shifted towards you again just like earlier, only this time it lasted much longer. It felt much more intentional, surreal almost. Your eyes stared into each other for what seemed like hours, until your gaze shifted down to his lips, the black lipstick painted onto them made it all the more tempting to just lean in and kiss him. He was so perfect.
Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed him doing the same, his gaze moving down to your lisp for only a second. Before you could even fathom what could possibly come next, the both of you leaned in slowly, and with only a few centimeters left between the two of you, you wasted no time closing that gap and pressing your lips onto his own. It felt better than you’d imagined, almost making it worth the tremendous wait. The two of you barely pulled back for only a few seconds, only Violet made the first move this time. 
Multiple minutes flew by as the both of you basked in each other’s affection, coming up for a breath every so often. You and Violet pulled away for the last time before footsteps could be heard coming your way. After you both sat in anticipation, you saw the librarian walk through the shelves, putting things in place. The two of you glanced at each other, and without a second thought, grabbed your things and headed out. You didn’t even realize the storm had died down until now.
As the two of you walked back to your respective dorms, you felt Violet’s hand slowly caress yours, like he was trying to ask your permission without saying anything. You grasped his hand a bit more firmly, letting him know you were okay with his gestures. 
“(Y/N)?” he spoke, making you nervous to hear what he was going to say.
“Yes?” you replied, anxiously waiting to hear what he was going to say, while still keeping your calm demeanor.
“I love you..” he spoke, briefly pausing in his tracks as he turned to look at you.
“And I love you too…in case you were not aware,” you spoke, making the last part sarcastic. You felt your heart flutter again as he chuckled a bit, leaning slowly in to kiss you again. It was so gentle, you almost barely felt his lips press against yours. You practically melted as you felt him still smiling ever so slightly as he kissed you. Wrapping your arms around him, you briefly brought his body closer to you before pulling away. 
“So…I’ll see you to-morrow?” you spoke.
“Surely you will..” He said, still smiling. It made you feel special, being able to see him smile and laugh when almost nobody did. Something about his expressions of happiness evoked a sort of contentment in you- something you didn’t think you’d be able to find anywhere else…
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𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖇𝖞 𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖌𝖓𝖎𝖟𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖆𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙...
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hi!! i have a request :) would it be okay if you wrote a specs x transmasc reader where the reader gets specs to help him with a testosterone shot?? its totally okay if no tho!! have a good day :)
T - specs x transmasc! reader
hi nonnie!! I'm sorry this took a while--this one has been sitting in my drafts for a good few weeks now and I've had it written for just as long. My object permanence is the absolute fuckin' worst, however, and I, admittedly, forgot to edit this before today because of getting distracted by other projects and also getting so anxious I physically could not will myself to get out of bed multiple days in a row since you sent this one into my inbox.
HOWEVER, I did get my shit together today (started on medication for adhd because I told my dr I thought I had it and we're testing it out to see if it works for me to help with those symptoms + anxiety management wot wot) and so, here this is!! I am, once again, sorry for the delay, and I promise if you send another request in I will do my best to do it that week.
fic type - this is fluffy!!
warnings - there are mentions of needles in this
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In the five years since you'd come out and the five and a half since you and Specs had started dating, you'd only asked him to help you with your weekly testosterone shot maybe twice in the three and a half years since you'd finally gotten through all of the necessary hoops and had been able to start taking it.
Normally, you could do it yourself without a hitch, sometimes a little squeamish at the sight of the needle, but that Friday you'd asked him to help because he did it a bit quicker than you did--even if by just a solid second or two--while the two of you were on a time crunch in a rush to meet Elise and Tucker. Also, somewhat, as a way to squeeze a bit more time with him out of your day because you had to work an eight hour shift from 3-11, and when you got home he'd either be reading a comic while half asleep or asleep on your side of the bed in your absence.
He agrees to your ask without questioning it, getting the shot ready while you talk to him about how work has been because you've worked a string of evening shifts for the past three weeks and have been too drained to talk about it the next day. He happily listens, occasionally commenting where it's appropriate to make a remark or agree with an opinion you hold about a coworker, though he also acknowledges that he only has your bias to base an opinion on and not his own.
"Thank you for this, by the way," you murmur as you're standing up to pull your pants down to your thighs. "I know I could've done it myself, but I've missed you a lot lately and wanted to squeeze in an extra few minutes."
That remark brings out a soft smile from Specs, given to you as you're sitting back down. A second later, you can see the debate as to whether or not he wants to give you a forehead kiss occur in his expressions before he pauses, presses a quick but somewhat lingering kiss to your forehead, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.
"I've missed you too, for what it's worth," Specs says. "Elise has kept us busy with her clients and Tucker and I have kept ourselves busy with Spectral Sightings stuff, but we've not seen much of each other lately and it's been hard."
You've missed him so terribly that it hurts, and there have been multiple points in the lulls of your evening shifts wherein you've been tempted to just pick up the phone and call him. You haven't for fear of being judged and seeming co-dependent, but you're at a point where you don't care how co-dependent it makes you seem. You're allowed to miss him when you're working evenings and don't get much of a chance to see him except for in your easier mornings.
You're nodding your agreement with his sentiments as he finishes getting your shot ready. You watch the needle go in, unblinking and relatively unphased, grabbing a "fun" Band-Aid--one shaped like a ghost, one of many from a Band-Aid kit gifted to you by Tucker for your birthday that year--to place over it as the slight pain from the injection settles and the needle is removed.
You pull your pants back up and rake your hands through your hair as Specs discards the needle properly, ever the one to be cautious about how your injection needles are handled, and you're thanking him as you put your testosterone away as it's meant to be stored.
He does a bit of idle cleaning while you finish getting ready, and you wind up stealing one of his button downs to wear over a black shirt. You kiss his cheekbone as he tosses you your keys, and the two of you leave your shared house hand in hand, so full of contentment that you already know how happy you seem is bound to make Tucker fake a gag while he smiles.
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mariana-oconnor · 1 year
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The Cardboard Box pt 3
OK, so this was mostly solved last part, with a few hanging threads, mainly being the motive and who the second ear belongs to. Our working theory is a man that Mary's husband thought she was having an affair with. But how that all relates to Sarah Cushing and why he sent the ears to her specifically. My best guess is she was encouraging Mary to leave him and 'befriend' this other guy in some way?
“Lestrade has got him all right,” said Holmes, glancing up at me.
Welp, that was quick. I guess no one is dying in a mysterious shipwreck this week, even though there are actual sailors involved this time.
“In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our theories” [“the ‘we’ is rather fine, Watson, is it not?”]"
Are we going to get Holmes' commentary throughout? That would be fun. Throwing shade at Lestrade here for taking partial credit for everything. Fair.
@ameliahcrowley did the research about May Day and apparently it wasn't in use as a distress signal yet at this time, which surprised me. So this ship name is just retroactively ironic, which is one of the best flavours of irony.
"I found that there was a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties."
This guy has zero chill, which we already knew because he was going around murdering his wife and sending ears to her relatives, but he fails so completely at getting away with it, it's kind of farcical.
I guess it makes sense that he'd be a bit weird after killing his wife. But at the same time, the kind of effort it takes to cut off ears, pack them in salt and send them off to women in Croydon indicates a level of thought and planning that is clearly not evident anywhere else in his crime. So weird.
"He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the darbies."
This reads as though the guy is feeling guilty or remorseful, but please see prior notes about taking the time to pack ears in salt. The remorse was a really delayed reaction, huh?
Mr Browner's understanding of what he did dawning:
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"...bar a big sharp knife such as most sailors have..."
If he has a big sharp knife, why did he use a blunt one to cut the ears off? Unless the blunt just meant 'not as sharp as a scalpel', which seems an unfair benchmark of sharpness to put on a knife. Not everyone can be a scalpel.
"The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be an extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in my investigation."
This isn't exactly a lie. Except it kind of is. Lestrade at least claimed to think it was just the medical students the whole time, but at the same time he called Holmes in, which seems like a weird thing to do if he was convinced it was a prank?
"I tell you I've not shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get past all waking."
Again, this is strange to me. Like did he get through the whole posting of the ears and did the guilt set in immediately after that, or did he do that while feeling guilty? which makes no sense. I do not understand this man.
"Ay, the white lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a face that had seldom looked anything but love upon her before."
And this does not read like the words of someone who feels remorse. I feel like Jim Browner is a very disturbed individual. This is very creepy. Anyone who compares another person to a 'white lamb' is instantly ten times creepier than they were before. I'm already getting 'my wife drove me to it' delusional self-justification from his language.
"For Sarah Cushing loved me—that's the root of the business—she loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife's footmark in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul."
Oh, I did not see that coming. Although thinking back, the way her interactions with him were referred to were a bit weird. I thought it was just a Victorian flare for language coming through, but no.
I said last time that Mary needed better sisters. She really needed better sisters.
"The old one was just a good woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah was thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married."
A devil and an angel? Right, this guy has unrealistic expectations of the women in his life, I can tell you that right away. The Madonna-Whore complex called, Jim, it thinks you might have a problem.
For someone who is so guilty he can't sleep, Jim Browner is trying very hard to seem like the victim here. Dude murdered two people and cut off their ears and he's determined that it's Sarah's fault. I'm not saying she had nothing to do with it, but seems like he's having a little trouble with accountability here.
Also, her seduction of him is very... like she took hold of his hand and looked at him? That's all she did? I was expecting something more overt. Although this is the Victorian era, I guess maybe that's pretty overt by their standards? Or he misread the entire situation.
"Things went on much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a bit of a change in Mary herself. She had always been so trusting and so innocent, but now she became queer and suspicious, wanting to know where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my letters were from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand such follies."
This whole thing reads very strangely. 'so trusting and so innocent', and the pedestal he seems determined to put his wife on. It's all a little icky. He seems like a remarkably unreliable narrator.
OK, maybe it happened like he says. We have no evidence in the text contradicting him as of yet. But at the same time we only have his word for any of this and it's possible that he hit on Sarah rather than the other way around, she told Mary. OR that neither of them was hitting on each other, but they both thought the other one was hitting on them and things... spiralled.
"I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and poisoning my wife's mind against me."
If this story hadn't ended with him murdering people and mutilating their corpses, I'd be more inclined to believe him at face value, but knowing the extremes he went to, I feel like this is just massive paranoia.
"And then this Alec Fairbairn chipped in, and things became a thousand times blacker."
Ah, we finally get to the owner of the second ear. Alas, poor Alec. You were doomed by the narrative.
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“‘It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour unexpected, and as I walked in at the door I saw a light of welcome on my wife's face. But as she saw who it was it faded again, and she turned away with a look of disappointment."
His entire motive is based on two moments when he saw a look in a woman's eyes? Are you kidding me, Mr Browner? Are you a telepath? Can you read their minds? You have no evidence of literally anything and you just murdered people?
Maybe we're getting to the evidence. Maybe you're going to walk in on them in a compromising position, or find a love letter, or overhear a incriminating conversation. But so far all we have is 'my sister-in-law was upset I didn't enjoy her company and held my hand and made eye contact with me' (which I agree was a bit weird, but not conspiracy worthy) and 'my wife looked like she was looking forward to talking to someone who wasn't me'.
“You can do what you like,” says I, “but if Fairbairn shows his face here again I'll send you one of his ears for a keepsake.”
OK, no. You're just going straight to threats of violence. No further proof needed.
“‘Well, I don't know now whether it was pure devilry on the part of this woman, or whether she thought that she could turn me against my wife by encouraging her to misbehave.'"
The paranoia and entitlement is so strong in this one. He's completely irrational. We're all agreed on that, right? Maybe he was right about everything, but he's based all of his conclusions on...
heh...
He's based all his conclusions on vibes.
I played myself.
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At least I didn't kill anyone over it.
"'How often she went I don't know, but I followed her one day, and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got away over the back garden wall, like the cowardly skunk that he was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found her in his company again, and I led her back with me, sobbing and trembling, and as white as a piece of paper.'"
This is slightly more incriminating, but given that there was a threat made to cut off the man's ears, that seems enough reason for him to run away. And death threats are never cool.
"'The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and at that moment a cab passed me, and there she was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought for me as I stood watching them from the footpath.'"
Honestly, at this point if she was having an affair with him I'm kind of okay with that. Mr Browner is clearly paranoid, violent and unstable. Divorce wasn't really an option for her because Victorian divorce laws were sexist and terrible, and from Browner's earlier description Fairbairn seems like a pretty cool guy. I hope she at least had fun before her husband brutally murdered her.
OK, point of Victorian etiquette, was it considered scandalous to be alone in a cab together? To me that's far less intimate than being found alone in a house together. But chatting in a cab? I suppose there isn't a chaperone, so maybe.
“‘Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to see them without being seen.'"
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Either you couldn't think straight OR you could think straight enough to be cunning. You can't have it both ways. That's not how it works. EITHER you're blinded by jealousy and commit a crime of passion, OR you're thinking through your plan. My dude, you're undermining your own argument (although, as mentioned, the ear thing already did that).
They do seem to be having a very nice date. Good for them. Pity about the murderer lurking in the shadows.
And he's spending an entire day stalking them. Yeah, no, Mr Browner, we're way outside of 'blind jealous rage' murder. You hired a boat specifically to hunt them down and kill them without witnesses. This is now officially premeditated.
"'I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed. That night I made up the packet for Sarah Cushing, and next day I sent it from Belfast'."
Yeeeaaah, those are not the actions of a remorseful person.
You're just a dick.
If only she'd had good sense and just run the fuck away with Mr Fairbairn and changed her name. Genuinely, usually I'm super against infidelity in all forms, but you seem like a real piece of work. Your story is so full of inconsistencies and irrational jealousy and paranoia that I can't believe half of it.
"'I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two faces staring at me—staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if I have another night of it I shall be either mad or dead before morning.'"
Can confirm: you are already 'mad'. Your actions were not those of a mentally stable person. Not that that's why you did it. You clearly have problems, but loads of people deal with problems without killing people. You just suck, my dude. And honestly, zero sympathy.
'I feel super guilty about the crime I threatened to commit, then deliberately set up so as not to get caught, then followed up with acts of bodily mutilation, cover-up, and terrorising of the victim's relatives. But now I feel super guilty.'
Yeah, this whole account is just one long rant about how he's not really responsible. It was the women who drove him to it. By... talking to men and... looking at him funny.
“What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far from an answer as ever.”
Super philosophical at the end there Holmes. Seems like Holmes at least is taking Browner at his word about Sarah, or else the cycle doesn't really make any sense here. Even if Sarah did put events in motion, it's not really a cycle. It's just... a couple of rather horrible people being horrible to each other.
Or maybe he's referring to the death penalty?
Well, this one was weird. Given ACD's predilection for spiritualism and the afterlife, it's possible he intended the guilt plaguing Browner here to be the spirits of the people he murdered, which - given his lack of accountability throughout his own narrative - actually makes more sense. But there's no evidence of that in the text, so that's just me. But mark it down as another score on the 'supernatural Holmes universe' tally.
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infinitestarsdev · 7 months
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Devlog 2023-09-22
It's another Friday! And it's a long weekend in South Africa.
The past two weeks haven't been kind to me. We were without water for a few days, and we were back to being without power for 9+ hours per day, but that seems to be over now. We're back to having water, and the daily power cuts are down to the regular 2-4 hours per day, which I can deal with.
My day job has also been particularly busy, not that I'm complaining, as it pays the bills. We're working on some large deals, and I've been asked to be part of a prestigious upcoming event. I've also been meeting with some fascinating business individuals, which always leaves me energised and motivated! My only complaint is time. To quote Bilbo Baggins, "I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread."
But the rest of our amazing team has been incredible with picking up the slack!
Crowbie has been expanding on my drafts and working on the content for Episode 4, Tae has done what feels like a gazillion new characters recently (The six aliens we've teased, four new side characters for the crew, the Spooktober outfits, and so much more!)
Stoffies has had some health issues from too much drawing, and he has to take it a bit slower, with some scheduled downtime happening from December. We snatched HiroDan, our other background artist, from a still unannounced project to step in and help out in the meantime.
Backgrounds always seem to be the bottleneck when it comes to new content, but we're still set on launching the next public release of Infinite Stars in November. At worst, we'll have to use some placeholder art, as I don't want to delay the release much longer.
I'm regretting the whole Spooktober thing.
I'm anxiously watching the deadline approach as I wasn't bargaining on the extra distractions. Even without the extended power cuts and increased day job workload, we were on a thin margin of available time. I've always wanted to participate, so we'll see it through!
Doesn't Reyna look enchanting in her Halloween Heist costume? A lot of you voted for Reyna to be dressed as a witch, and I can't wait to share the other costumes!
I still have a lot of day job tasks to get through, and I'm also hoping to get some more Infinite Stars work done, so I'm going to politely bow out and get back to work.
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smutson · 2 years
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Sleepy Hawkins
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Summary: After your father is injured, he decides it's best for you to stay with your cousins Nancy and Mike for a little while. Starting school in the middle of the year and trying to deal with being the new kid, you meet a group of friends that changes your life. Slow burn fan fiction. Will for sure be multiple parts.
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: Cursing, fluff.
Sidenote: Sorry for such a long delay. I've been super busy with work and school. Suggestions and DMs always open!
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You had been visiting Hawkins once a year since you were young enough to not remember the first time you went. It had become your favorite time of the year, excited to be seeing your cousins Nancy and Mike, the wonderful cooking of Aunt Karen for Thanksgiving, and the late night bike rides through the sleepy town. This year would be slightly different however. Clark Wheeler had landed himself in the hospital from a work related injury resulting in the tearing of the fibers in his left knee and could barely care for himself, let alone his 17 year old daughter. After a late night phone call that echoed throughout the small hallways within the hospital, Clark had decided that it was best you stayed with his brother's family until he was back on his own two feet.
The idea roused anxieties in your chest at the thought of a new High School and having to transfer in the end of the first semester of your senior year. Having classmates that have known each other since they were in diapers, you knew making friends would be hard. Throughout the years, you had been closest with your cousin Nancy and had been introduced to a couple of her friends, resulting in nothing more then acquaintances after all this time due to your spotty visits to Hawkins.
Pacing around your cramped bedroom, you grab random articles of clothing and toss them onto your bed, attempting to aim at the open suitcase resting there. The visit to Hawkins didn't have an exact timeline, all depending upon Clark Wheeler's rehabilitation length. You could be there for six months for all you knew and the short notice was making packing extremely difficult. He had confessed his plans to you three days ago during a rather quiet dinner by his hospital bedside. You were already in a sour mood due to the cafeteria serving meatloaf that night, a meal that resembled a brick more than an edible dish. Your fork poked at the mystery meat as the plan of your departure was sprung upon you. Had there been protesting? Yes. Anger? Yes. Even a little bit of whining? Oh absolutely, but you could see your father growing more stressed by the day at seeing how worn out this whole situation and injury had made you. So after putting up a strong fight, you relented. Leading you to the current predicament of packing at hand, while your uncle was on the way from Hawkins to pick you up.
After another hour of stressed cramming into your suitcase, a horn honks from outside. You admire your hasty packing and sling the worn-down bag over you shoulder as you close the door to your bedroom. Not knowing when you would return to it's safety. You step outside to the cool October air and seeing your uncle parked in the driveway. He gives you an awkward wave from the front seat as you pull open the door and climb in. The drive was uneventful and slightly awkward, as Mr. Wheeler had never been a talkative man and the teenager next to him was content to keep it that way. Occasionally, you broke the silence to ask how your cousins were doing and a few other questions about enrollment for school, which regrettably, was the next morning. Nerves piled into your stomach as the car zipped from one city to another. The endless scenery whipping past you from your spot in the front seat. A few hours later, the brown Volvo pulled into the familiar driveway and the anxiety was quickly replaced by excitement. A few lights were on inside the house you noted as you grabbed your luggage and followed Mr. Wheeler into the home.
Aunt Karen, Mike, Nancy and Holly were all sitting at the dinner table as he opened the door. You were greeted with huge grins from Nancy and Mike, a shy wave from Holly and a tight hug from Karen. She leads you to the table where a plate was already set for you and your uncle's arrival. Green beans, a casserole of some kind and small loaves of bread rested on the plate in front of you as the table sprung into a lively and excited chatter about your arrival. How much you're going to like it in Hawkins, your father's current state in rehab, and school. Throughout the dinner, Mike had jokingly slipped tiny pieces of bread into your drink while convinced you weren't paying attention. Resulting in a rebuttal of sneakily dropping an entire green bean into his Coke a mere 5 minutes later, which he sputtered and coughed on as it attempted to torpedo down his throat. Once dinner had ceased, everyone within the house disappeared into different rooms to continue their nightly routines. Nancy had showed you the spare room they had set up for your stay, the windowseat bedroom you had slept in during your Thanksgiving visits over the years. Unchanged by time and now yours for the time being.
While helping you unpack, which you graciously thanked her for because the level of tiredness taking over your bones felt almost criminal, Nancy had begun telling you about school. More specifically about the acutely turbulent relationship between her and Jonathan Byers.
"He's felt so distantly recently. Even on the phone, he just seems so far away and I don't know what to do. I'm feeling myself starting to pull away from him." Nancy mentions glumly as she folds a green turtleneck of yours into the dresser. You glance at her and see the sadness behind her soft eyes.
"I'm sorry Nance. I really am. It's probably just stress with college applications or something. We both know Jonathan is a great guy, I'm sure it's just that." You tell her, trying your best to ease some of the stress displayed on her face.
"You're probably right Y/N. Thanks for listening, I know I can ramble about it sometimes."
"Don't worry, it's what I'm here for." You grin up at her and throw the now empty suitcase into a corner of the room dramatically, which Nancy giggled at. You talked for a little longer that night, but weariness bore down on you both and soon Nancy was hugging you goodnight and retreating to her room. Finally alone in the nostalgic spare bedroom, you sat down on the edge of the bed, feet grazing the wooden floor. The feeling of homesickness already rearing its ugly head, you fall back into the mattress with a dull thud. Urging sleep to overtake the stress of the day, anxieties for tomorrow, and unsure timeline of your stay.
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"Y/N! Come on!! Mom made breakfast!" Mike's squeaky voice assaults your right eardrum, startling you awake. Jesus. It was a long night for sure, sleep finally winning the fight around 4am after tossing and turning for hours. You slam your hands into your eyes and aggressively rub the grogginess from them with a huff at the rude awakening. Mike chuckles in the doorway and tosses you a piece of toast he had been holding in his left hand, which abruptly smacks you in the cheek. You grumpily snatch the bread and take an angry bite as he heads downstairs, still laughing. The full length mirror across the room exposes the tiredness of your face harshly and motivates you to stumble out of bed. Red and puffy from sleep and an imprint of the pillow marking your face, you crawl out of the warm embrace of the bed. While unable to sleep, you had planned out your outfit for school. A brown long sleeve button up tucked into your favorite pair of jeans accompanied with the beat up pair of converse that had been your loyal companions for the last 3 years of high school.
You throw the outfit on with a quick glance in the mirror and a ruffle of your curly hair. Good as it's going to get I guess. Racing down the stairs, the smell of bacon fills the house warmly accompanied by the sounds of Nancy and Mike bickering over the last piece.
"Nancy don't forget it's Wednesday! You'll need to pick up Mike once he's done." Aunt Karen's voice can be heard from the kitchen.
"I know Mom. You don't have to tell me every week."
"Well I wouldn't have to tell you every week if you actually remembered every week. Eddie had to give him a ride home the last two! I want you all back home by 7pm! Got that?"
"Yes mom! Jeez, come on guys we're going to be late." Nancy says, practically shoving you and Mike out the front door and out to her car. The piece of toast being the only thing you managed to scarf down. You climb into the passenger side and giggle at Nancy's irritated expression.
"What was that about?" You ask as she pulls out of the driveway and down the street to the school. She glances in the rearview mirror at Mike and rolls her eyes as he obnoxiously grins back at her.
"Mike has his stupid HellFire meeting today and mom has been hounding me about picking him up and being his own personal chauffer."
"What's HellFire?" You ask innocently as Nancy pulls to a stop at an intersection. Mike chirps up from the back seat at the question.
"Oh it's awesome! It's my D&D club. You remember Dungeon and Dragons right? We played a few times over Thanksgiving break. Well we meet once a week!" He informs you excitedly, which you nod in response, uttering a "sounds fun" and glance out the window at the other cars next to you. The rest of the drive is filled with your cousins bickering at each other and you zoning out the majority of it out. Occasionally laughing at one of their punchy remarks to the other. Far too soon, Hawkins High School, home of the Tigers! pulls into view. Nancy puts the car into a parking spot near the front entrance and Mike quickly jumps out before she even pulls the key out of the ignition. She gives you a look as you both exit the car, following her up the steps.
Once inside the halls, you glance around and take in your surroundings as Nancy gives you a brief tour and shows you where your first three classes are. Algebra 2, English and Physiology followed by lunch, in that order. Great. Absolutely riveting. Nancy smiles at you from the doorway as you reach first period and take a seat in the back. The next three hours are dull and filled with mild embarrassment at introducing yourself to your bored peers in each class. You had gotten lost, even after Nancy's attempt at directions, a total number of 5 times within the first two hours. When the bell screeches in Physiology, initiating the break for lunch, you couldn't be more relieved.
Once inside the cafeteria, you are shuttled into the line for food with other students. Said meal, which is what appears to be some kind of homemade pizza greets you blandly. You grab the green tray from the lunch lady with a small thanks and scan the room for Nancy. She had promised to meet you for lunch to introduce you to some of her friends, but her curly brown hair was no where to be seen. Where the hell is she? Nervous summersaults erupt in your mind at the thought of trying to navigate a spot to eat your sad lunch with the least amount of embarrassment possible. You throw your head to the left and spot Mike in the middle of the cafeteria sitting at a lunch table with some friends, laughing at a joke some guy with bushy hair said. You make a beeline for him, relieved to see a familiar face and plop down next to him and Dustin. They greet you cheerfully and the others at the table glance at you with confused expressions.
"Shit sorry. This is my cousin Y/N. She's staying with us for a while. She's cool and occasionally plays D&D." He adds the last part with a proud smile at Dustin, the other half of your gaming teacher, who nods in agreement. An older boy at the head of the table throws a hand towards you to shake.
"Well, nice to meet you older and more attractive Wheeler. I'm Eddie and this is Gareth and Jeff." He says gesturing to the other two boys at the table with a groundbreaking grin. You shake his hand and feel the cold metal touch of his rings against your palm. This is when you notice everyone at the table wearing matching t-shirts. The HellFire club logo brandished proudly upon all its members. You withdraw your hand and smile back at Eddie, slightly taken aback by how welcoming his grin is and how quickly it set you at ease.
"So if you play D&D, do you want to sit in on our meeting today?" Mike throws out with a quick glance at Eddie he adds "if that's okay."
"Yeah Wheeler, you should come! Our meetings kick-ass and I could always use a backup opinion on how to screw these little twerps over." Eddie laughs as Gareth and Jeff nod in agreement. You poke some mushy french fries on your tray with your fork, contemplating the idea.
"Hell yeah I'll come!" You tell the table and Eddie claps his hands together excitedly and Dustin and Mike proudly smirk up at your response. You glance around the cafeteria once more and a question rises in your throat.
"Where's Lucas? Is he not in HellFire with you guys? I figured he would be."
The question causes Mike and Dustin to shift uncomfortably in their green plastic chairs. The older boy shakes his head in disappointment as he points towards a corner in the cafeteria with his plastic knife. You follow the gesture with your eyes and spot him. A taller and lankier Lucas can be seen sitting with a group of boys in matching letterman's jackets. You hadn't seen Lucas since last Thanksgiving but he had grown to a towering height. A couple of the boys are tossing a basketball around when it bumps Lucas in the side of the head, who forces a chuckle in response. He glances over at the HellFire table and furrows his eyes together in disbelief at you munching on your pizza casually. You return the look with a sheepish wave and he smiles back, genuinely but still slightly confused at your random appearance in Hawkins.
"Yeesh. That's a bit awkward." You say and turn back around to the rest of HellFire.
"Sinclair's been taken over by the dark side as you can see." Eddie informs you. Dustin and Mike's faces become slightly overcast at the comment and the tension around the subject bears down around you. You make a mental note to avoid bringing up Lucas again as Mike quickly attempts to change the topic.
"How're ya likin Hawkins Y/N?" he asks you and nudges your shoulder.
"Oh it's everything I could've dreamed of." You respond sarcastically. "I really love introducing myself and a fun fact about me with every class I go to." Eddie and Dustin smirk up at you.
"You're a senior right?" Gareth asks you, shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth, a few strays falling from his hand and rolling onto the table. You nod back at him and ask if he is as well, which him and Eddie both inform you that they are. You smile down at your mushy pizza, hopeful to have one of them in your last three classes and not being entirely alone the whole day.
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You were excited for the day to be over with, ready to meet the rest of the HellFire club in a random drama room near the south side of the school. You had managed to skirt pass unnoticed in your last two classes and were determined to do the same for your final one. World History. A subject that you were decent at, but didn't enjoy enough to want to attend it at the very end of every day. You managed to find the tiny room and grab a random empty seat in the middle of the sea of chairs. Wheeled to the front of the class was a projector and relief flooded you at the thought of just sitting and taking notes for the next hour. The rest of your peers file into the room and start taking seats beside you. A few students you recognize from other classes but nobody you had really talked to ever. Until Eddie waltzes in right as the bell cries out.
He grabs a seat by the window to your left in front of you and catches your eye as he tosses his bag under his seat. His eyes light up as he gives you a big grin and an overzealous wave that makes you giggle. Your teacher, a plump middle-aged man by the name of Mr. Stiles takes a seat behind the desk, reading a note.
"Okay, we have a new student joining us. Miss....Wheeler?" he says looking up from the piece of paper in his hand and finding you in the sea of students. The majority of the class turns around to look at you and you feel your face flushing red.
"Yes. Hi, I'm Y/N." You say and awkwardly wave to everyone. Eddie smiles at the uncomfortable look rising to your face as Mr. Stiles nods at you and continues.
"Related to Nancy Wheeler by any chance?"
"Yeah she's my cousin." You tell the class, everyone looking bored at the interaction besides Eddie and Mr. Stiles. He nods to himself again, ushers a quick Welcome to Hawkins, and turns towards his desk, picking up a clear sheet and placing it over the projector. Once the attention is turned away from you, you feel yourself relax more into the tiny desk. Mr. Stiles lurches into his presentation about the Trail of Tears. You had been trying to follow the lecture but were failing miserably at it, continuously glancing at the clock at the foot of the class and catching yourself more than once glancing at Eddie's back.
At some point a tiny slip of paper is dropped on top of your desk and onto your notebook by a blonde girl to your left. She points towards Eddie in front of her, indicating that he was the one to write the note. You open the crumpled paper and see a drawing of Mr. Stiles, his body a comedic doodle of a circle that surprisingly was quite accurate. His large figure was donned in a girly dress, accentuating his curves. Next to him was a cartoonish bubble box saying "Stiles the Stunning."
A laugh erupts from your stomach automatically at the note that you have to push down to keep from breaking the quiet lecture up with laughs. Eddie quickly turns around at the suppressed sound with a huge grin and a wiggle of the eyebrows at you. You smile back at him and with a shake of the head, quietly tear a piece of paper from your notebook. You start doodling a picture of Eddie surrounded by flames, making sure to add in his groundbreaking smile, and perhaps spending too much detail to make it just right. Once done, you add a quick "Eddie the Distractor" on top of your less impressive drawing and grin as you give the note to the blonde girl. She rolls her eyes, takes the paper and drops it over Eddie's shoulder. His head turns to the side as the note drops into his lap. He quickly unfolds the paper and loudly chuckles, admiring your work.
Mr. Stiles turns his attention to Eddie for a second before continuing his boring presentation. Unbothered by the interruption, which you note probably happens a lot in his classroom. Eddie glances back at you and whispers, "hope you know I'm keeping this forever", before turning back around in his seat after receiving a death glare from the blonde girl. The rest of the class zipped by quickly enough as you kept looking at the drawing Eddie gave you, and in a brisk 20 minutes the class was packing up their backpacks, ready to escape the classroom and go on about their days, enjoying freedom.
Once the bell rings and the majority of your peers shove their way out the door, Eddie stops by your desk. You were shoving your notebook back into your bag with some effort as the space inside had shrank down to nothing after all the assignments and textbooks had been thrown at you.
"Excellent drawing skills Wheeler. You got my hair perfect." He says with a chuckle as you finally manage to zip up the bag, careful to put the note in your pocket.
"I must say you got Mr. Stiles' beer gut down to the tee. Didn't know he'd look so good in a dress." You respond, laughing as you stand up and throw the backpack over your shoulder. Eddie chuckles and gestures towards the door which you follow him to and start walking together towards what you assume to be the drama room. He launches into a quick chatter about the current state of their D&D campaign. He had sent the club to a cave that was filled to the brim with hobgoblins, but they didn't know that yet, he was quick to add. His shoulder brushes against yours several times throughout the walk to Hellfire, which you noticed and blushed at each time, but said nothing.
"Well here we are." He says, pushing the drama room open and displaying the extravagant meeting space. The room had been converted to something out of a fantasy book. Equipped with candles, what appeared to be a throne, and moody lighting brought on by the stage lights, which Eddie flipped on as you took in the room.
"Holy shit." Is all you can manage, loving the comfortable and welcoming space before you instantly. Eddie grins at your response and leads you to the chair at the end of the table, where he pulls out a black folder and drops it in front of the chair.
"This is our little home for the rejects. I was planning on bringing food this week but I can admit, I am a terrible cook." He informs you with a laugh, plopping down into the chair. You grab the seat by his side, still taking in the space, and watch as the drama room opens and Dustin and Mike walk in, bickering about who you assumed to be a teacher they shared. Mike gives you a big smile, happy and slightly surprised that you decided to join the meeting. They both sit down across the table from Eddie, Dustin grabbing his lunchbox and pulling out a half-eaten sandwich.
The rest of the club quickly gathered into the room and taking their respective seats at the table. Before long, Eddie is standing over his open folder, glancing at the rest of Hellfire.
"Welcome gentlemen, and lady. Have you guys brought your exploring undies today?" Everyone chuckles at this but you can see a hint of unease take over some of their faces. You giggle, thinking of the unknown horde of Hobgoblins waiting for them. Eddie quickly launches back into the campaign, adding slight comments towards you for context of what happened last week. Everyone invested into the story they had been building together. You were amazed by Eddie's storytelling skills and watching in awe at how quickly you were immersed into the adventure. His over the top hand gestures and changes he added into his voice to make the campaign more real made you feel as if you just fell from sleepy Hawkins and into a damp and dark cave.
"The smell of mold is ever present as you turn the corner. Hmm. That's strange. The odor is growing stronger the deeper you venture into the cave's mouth."
"Ah shit." Dustin says as Eddie continues.
"You hear a soft skittering across the cave and the smell fills your nostrils. The sound gets louder and louder as you reach the end of the path. You turn the corner, led by Gareth the Brave, and are greeted with....HOBGOBLINS!" Eddie finishes and slams a small miniture of a Hobgoblin onto the table.
"I knew it! I told you guys it was an ambush going this way!" Gareth says to the rest of the party, Eddie quickly hushes the table.
"What say you Gareth the Brave." He asks gesturing to him, a smug grin on his face as the rest of the party groans at the attack.
"We fight." Gareth says boldly, looking at the rest of you for confirmation. Everyone agrees and the fight commences. The rest of HellFire start rolling for attacks and planning their next move. Eddie glances at you and grins at your excited expression, watching and invested in every move. After the final Hobgoblin had been slaughtered, the party taking a small amount of damage, Eddie continues.
"After wiping the last bit of blood from your weapons, the last Hobgoblin dying before your feet, you hear the creature whispering something. Getting closer you hear him mumbling a name over and over." Eddie suddenly turns towards you. "What is this hobgoblin saying Y/N?"
You pause for a minute, unsure of where to take the story and startled by the sudden control you had over the campaign. You rack your brain quickly and remember some of the games you played with Mike and his friends over Thanksgiving break. One character had always stayed present in your mind, in awe of the sheer power and strength. You sit up a little and continue the story,
"The hobgoblin sputters his last dying breath and you finally catch the name the creature was moaning for..." You pause, following Eddie's lead with the dramatic pauses. The whole table inches closer to you, hanging onto every word.
"Standing so close you can smell its rotting breath. Finally able to hear the chanting clearly. Hecate." You boldly inform them. The whole club bursts into groans and shouts.
"NO!!"
"We are so fucked."
"Jesus not them!"
You grin mischeviously as Hellfire accepts their impending battle, everyone taken off guard by the choice of character. You catch Eddie's eyes and see a huge grin spread to his face. His dark brown eyes filled with delight at your contribution.
"You heard her! We'll have to continue next week. Make sure to plan for impending doom." He says cheerfully.
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Around 6, the club starts packing up their belongings, still excitedly chattering about your introduction of Hecate and the posibilities that rested on next week's meeting. Gareth and Jeff left first, but not after clapping you on the back and asking if you would be joining Hellfire happily. The unexpected events of the day were turning in your head as you excitedly told them yes. Once it was just Eddie, you and Mike left in the room, Eddie grabs his black folder and sets it delicately in his bag.
"Am I taking you home again Wheeler? Or...Wheelers." He adds. Mike nods his head, already assuming Nancy had forgotten about her chauffer duties. You all leave the drama room together and head towards the empty parking lot. It was already dark outside and the cold October wind blew through your thin brown shirt as you all approach the van. It was the last car in the parking lot and parked towards the back of the school. Upon reaching it, Eddie unlocks the doors and you climb into the front seat. Fast food trash resting at your feet, he quickly grabs it, tossing it in the back over his shoulder with a quick apology. Before shoving the key into the ignition, he pulls something out of his jacket pocket, a crumpled piece of paper you recognize with your doodle drawn on it, and places it in the overhead mirror delicately. You pretend not to notice but a warm red blush heats up you face.
The drive was somehow peaceful, even over Eddie's blaring stereo, as you soaked in you first day at Hawkins. Somehow, and someway, you had managed to make friends and even get inducted into the club. To say you were surprised at your success was an understatement. You were ecstatic. Once the house pulls into view a short time after, Mike gives a quick thanks to Eddie and walks up the driveway.
"Thanks for the ride. And for inviting me to Hellfire. It was a lot of fun!" You say, grabbing your backpack from the floorboard.
"Thanks for making our campaign so much better. You are welcome anytime Wheeler." He says with a soft grin. You nod back at him, smiling back and open the door. You turn back to wave once you reach the front door.
"Hey what size t-shirt do you wear?" He shouts from the window.
"Medium. Why?"
"Well I need to make your HellFire tee shirt." He says excitedly and gives you one last grin before pulling off the curb and driving off into the night.
Hope you enjoyed! Messages and DMs always open. Part 2 will be out soon!! <3
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milo-hypno · 5 months
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hello! i don’t typically use tumblr so i apologize if the formatting is odd, but i wanted to just express my absolute gratitude for eventually the birds must land so i am taking the leap of faith and doing so by starting off with:
wow.
just wow. genuinely, i have not read a fic in a very long time [possibly ever, in the years i’ve spent consuming fanfiction] that has elicited the type of emotions i’m feeling in the way that eventually the birds must land does. i’ve kept up with the work since the first update and have been hooked ever since, these past few updates leaving me constantly thinking about how the plot could go next [expectations always exceeded,] the interactions the chapter held, just rereading upon rereading segments eagerly awaiting the next update [as patiently as i could, of course.]
it left me to vaguely talk about my excitement to my irl friends, who fortunately know about my tendency to consume literature like it’s nobody’s business. that was a bit insane in itself because i never talk about fics to anyone!! i simply felt so compelled to express how crazy i was going over a fic of all things because of how beautifully written and inspiring it was, is even, and i’m very much not the type to do so.
of course, after realizing you had also written the sky was still, honestly, blue, all goes outward and onward, and home, home again [the series i still go insane about and reread occasionally, mind you] i realized i probably shouldn’t be shocked that of all the writers to create something so absolutely heartwarming and overwhelmingly human, it was you milo hypno-cat.
and so, thank you for creating these pieces and sharing them to the world, they are always a joy to read and i do hope you’ll continue for as long as you enjoy writing. eventually the birds must land got me through a lot these past few months, and i wouldn’t have it any other way. enjoy the holidays if you celebrate and i look forward to reading the other one-shots you add to the universe, if you choose to write them!
Hi Anon!! Sorry for the delay - I've been in a lot of pain in the past few days, and wanted to wait to answer this until I was feeling a bit better!
Firstly- your formatting is just fine, and I'm very touched that you came to Tumblr to send this!!!
Secondly- i am so touched, reading this. You don't know how much I beamed, when this dropped into my Dms. To know that my writing affected you like this, made you reread and reread and drove you to talk about it to other people??? To drive you outside of your normal habits because you enjoyed it so much? That's- a definite ego boost. I'm incredibly honored, and pleased, to hear that. I can't even tell you how much pride it brings me!
Thank you so very much. So very much. I'm glad my writing has been able to reach you like it has, multiple times - and I promise that I certainly will keep writing, as long as my brain continues to think and my fingers continue to flex!
(I plan on getting published eventually, even, but it's definitely a challenge LOL!)
I'm sorry if this is a mess, I'm still recovering and my brain is a little mush right now - but the essence is this. Thank you for reading, and enjoying what I write, and enjoying it so much that it drove you to send me such a sweet and lovely message. I really, really, appreciate it.
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icecry · 2 years
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JUNE UPDATE - SUMMER PROJECT
After an insanely busy winter/spring, summer HAS FINALLY brought a steady work schedule and time to slow down just a little. I'm incredibly grateful for all the work opportunities I've had this past year and should be able to start sharing those around Halloween! With Chapter 5 a page away from completion and Chapter 6 fully sketched out, I wanted to start off June by saying that after Chapter 5 is published soon, Benedict will be taking a Summer Holiday until September. (In terms of me actively drawing the Chapter) In my perfect world, I would be so much further ahead in the story I have planned out. But I'm grateful to be as far as I am right now. Life has changed quite a bit since 2 years ago. I'm very thankful to be the busiest I've ever been in my career in animation and I'm using the first several days I've had off in a few months to make sure this Chapter is complete! I have another (much smaller) Non-Hellsing Summer project I have in mind for the summer months so please stay tuned!
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That being said, Benedict will enjoy the Summer Holiday with his parents until school starts back up in September when his story will continue. (Which is really nothing compared to the work delays of this year lol)
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sketch-guardian · 9 months
Note
I’ll send in the word vomit after you finish your sketches (it’ll literally be copy and pasted from my notes because of how many ideas I’ll send it’ll be so much easier than writing them down in here)
I'm really sorry for the delay in replying to this simple ask,but I've been a bit busy these days🙈
Anyway don't worry it's okay☺I'm quite slow at drawing regardless and I don't want too much time to pass for you😣so please feel free to send some asks in the meantime and I'll still do my best to reply in a satisfying way and continue drawing✨I don't like making people interested in the RAD classmates wait too long,even if they are few😥
Also as I already said,I don't mind long texts or asks😌and in any case,I'm curious about the ideas you have in mind🤔again thanks for the patience💕
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wendyeve24 · 10 months
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Up To Heaven and Down To Hell
Chapter 6: Magic Man (Part 1)
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(Read the screenshot warnings for this chapter above and take heed to them. Smut is also slightly in this chapter. I had to break this chapter into two parts on Tumblr because it wouldn't fit in one post 😆. Thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Part 2 of Chapter 6 is up next! More chapters are coming soon!)
"So what's the new plan?"
The original announcement plans had gotten scrapped due to an important delay... which Nate had blamed on Cassie. But now everything was set into place.
"I'm going to throw a huge party at our house, the press is invited in order to let everyone else know about all the changes that are going to be taking place." Nate said as he walked down the halls of Jacobs Sports Incorporated in his business suit, talking to his dad who trailed behind him on the way to his office.
"Good... and is there any news about her current status?"
Nate stopped in his tracks, a smile on his face as he turned around. He gave his dad a knowing look.
"She's doing perfect." He answered as the events of the past few days ran through his mind.
Cassie had sat in the doctor's living room after her checkup. She had been throwing up all morning... almost every morning after their shortened honeymoon... which was now close to nearly being a month ago.
She thought it was just a stomach bug.
The doctor came back into the room with a clipboard and sat down, smiling at Cassie.
"Well Mrs. Jacobs, your test results are in."
"What's going on with me doctor?" She asked.
"You're pregnant." He replied with a smile.
"What? A-Already?" She couldn't believe it.
"Yes ma'am. And I think it would be good to run an ultrasound. You were also complaining about being bloated well I'd like to take a look at that."
"Of course."
The doctor started up the ultrasound machine and put the goo on Cassie's stomach, looking at the monitor as he placed the wand on her belly.
"Wow... well Mrs. Jacobs you're almost a month along now and your babies are healthy."
"Wait! Did you say babies!?"
"Yes I did. You're going to have twins."
Cassie was absolutely shocked but she felt so happy.
"Thank you doctor! Oh my gosh, I have to tell my husband." She exclaimed excitedly as she left the doctor's house that was in the backyard of the Jacobs Family Estate.
She came running back into the house.
"Nate! Nate! Honey where are you!?" Cassie cried out.
Nate was in his office, documents piled high on his desk as he worked vigorously in either shredding the ones that served him no purpose or filing the ones he actually needed away... besides, they weren't his originally anyways.
He heard Cassie down the hall yelling for him. With an annoyed sigh he got up and stretched a bit before he left his office and went out into the hall.
"You're interrupting my work, what the fuck do you want Cassie!" He said.
"Take a break, I have some great news!"
He rolled his eyes before sitting on the couch.
Cassie went over to the bar area of the living room and got a beer out of the mini-fridge and reached into a drawer and got a cigar for him as well.
"Good girl. You're learning." He replied as he graciously took the can of beer and sipped it before putting the cigar between his lips. She leaned over with a lighter and lit his cigar for him. He took a few puffs from it.
"Now, what is it?" He asked.
"It's something fantastic. It's about why I've been sick each morning..."
"Mhm."
Cassie took his hand into hers.
"Nate, I'm pregnant." She said as she looked into his eyes.
His eyes widened as he took the cigar out of his mouth.
"You are? You really are? You're not pulling my fucking leg?"
"No! I'm pregnant! And... it's twins."
Nate stood up frantically and turned towards Cassie with a shocked look before a huge smile spread across his face.
"Twins... you're fucking perfect. Oh my god! It's twins!? Holy mother of God! I... Cassie, you... you don't know what good you've done. Our kids are going to be miracles. You're a mother, you're going to be a mother... the perfect mother." He said as he kneeled down to look in her eyes.
"I'm so happy Nate!" She said with tears in her eyes.
"You're doing so well. I have but only one thing to demand of you with this new information, Cassie."
"Yes honey... anything."
"Tell no one until I tell you to. Understand?"
"W-Why?"
"It's business, honey. Just business. Just don't tell anyone. It won't be long until you can tell everyone but... just don't do it until then. It's important. Very important. I'll tell you why it's important a day before we throw a huge party in our house with all The Organization members in our sector. I promise, but for now you just be perfect, be pretty, be barefoot and pregnant, and be quiet about everything. Okay?"
"Okay daddy."
"Such a good fucking girl." He said as he kissed her deeply, placing his hand on her stomach.
"And good girls get rewards. Whatever you want to eat you can have it tonight." He added.
"Oh thank you!" She said as she hugged him.
"You tell me by eight o'clock what you want and I'll give it to you okay? I have to get back to work." He said as he got up with his beer and cigar and turned to go back to his office before turning and gazing at her.
"Oh and Cassie?"
"Yes?"
"I love you." He said before he went back into his office, shutting the big wooden doors behind him.
"Love you too..." She replied quietly as she sat alone in the living room.
The party invitations were sent out two weeks later and everyone sent in their RSVP... well, almost everyone.
"The fact your sister decided not to send in her RSVP is a fucking insult, Cassie." Nate ranted in bed as his wife put her nightly face cream on before bed.
"I know."
"Call her up and tell her to come to the party or else." Nate said before taking a drag of his sixth cigarette of the day, tapping the ashes into the tray on the nearby nightstand.
"Or... else... what?" She asked sheepishly.
Nate got up and went over to Cassie's side of the bed, grabbing the rotary phone from the nightstand.
"Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He said in a saccharine tone.
"Now call her." He demanded as he sat the rotary phone in her lap, her pregnant belly was already getting big. He gently leaned down and kissed it before going back to his side of the bed.
Cassie sighed before picking up the phone and spinning the dial to call her sister.
Faye had felt bad for Cassie after the luncheon so she had given Cassie the number to the O'Neill's residence in case she ever wanted to talk.
Cassie thought Faye was sweet... stupid and constantly high but sweet nonetheless.
It took a while but someone finally answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"L-Lexi?"
"Cassie?"
"Hey..."
"Hi... uh, you do know it's getting late right?"
"Yeah. I won't hold you up, I know how you like your sleep. I uh just was calling to ask you why you haven't sent your RSVP in for my party?"
"Well, we didn't leave each other on very good terms Cassie. Besides, our husbands don't like each other-"
"But if you come to the party, we can make amends-"
"Cassie, if you really wanted to make amends then you would have called me up earlier instead of trying to get me and my husband to go to your party."
"Lexi, I-"
"What? What is it Cassie?"
Cassie looked over at Nate out of desperation and he gave her a frustrated look before nodding his head once. He was hearing the entire conversation.
"Please come! I... I need you Lexi! Everyone was right! About my marriage! I just... I really really need my sister here with me..." Cassie said as she started sobbing.
Lexi's eyes widened as she gazed at Fez who was also listening in on the conversation next to her in bed.
He narrowed his eyes slightly as he listened.
"Cassie I-"
"Please Lexi! I... I can't do this without my sister, I'm so sorry about everything. I... please help me." She sobbed into the phone.
The line was silent for a moment.
"Alright. Me, Fez, Marie, Faye and Ash are all coming to your party. We care about you Cassie, we just wanna know if you're okay. Alright?"
"Thank you... thank you. Oh, he's back home... I'll call you later. Bye!" She said frantically as she hung up.
She put the rotary phone back onto the nightstand and dried her tears before smiling at Nate.
"And that is how you manipulate your little sister." She said with a smirk, though her tears had been real.
Nate's eyes widened as he looked at his wife. He was shocked that she even had that in her.
"That was all an act... right?"
"Of course honey. I'd never actually do that to you, I love you daddy."
"Good. Don't do that shit again. It was pretty sexy though... but just don't do it again." Nate said.
Honestly he wasn't too pleased that she had to stoop to those levels in regards to her sister. But at least now they would be at the party... he needed them there... they were a part of his plans.
"I won't... Not unless you want me to." Cassie said sensually.
Nate leaned over and kissed Cassie before rolling over and turning the light off.
"Oh Nate, I want you..."
"If you shut up then you'll have me then." He replied as he got on top of her as she stopped talking.
Lexi hadn't been feeling well for a few days but she was feeling well enough to go out with Fez.
"I can't believe we're going to Cincinnati for my sister and her shitty husband." Lexi said.
"Hey, you did want to see her again... right?" Fez asked as he walked down the street with his wife.
"Yeah... just to check up on her, you know?"
"Yeah, ma. I get it. Alright we're almost there. Close your eyes Lex."
Lexi smiled and closed her eyes.
Fez had two surprises for Lexi.
He situated her right in front of the building and grinned.
"Alright, open your eyes."
Lexi opened her eyes and saw a store with a sign that said MILK in big letters in front of her.
"Oh my god, Fez is this-"
"Yup, I'm finally showing you the store. Come on."
He escorted her inside as I'd Rather Be With You by Bootsy's Rubber Band played on the radio in the store, resounding through the aisles.
"Wow! It's fantastic!" Lexi said as he took her on a quick tour.
"Yup, and it's not just mine now... it's yours too baby." Fez replied.
"Oh Fez! That's incredible, thank you!" She exclaimed as she hugged him.
"Oh don't thank me yet... I got another surprise for you." He said as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.
He opened it up and handed it to her.
"I know how much going to college matters to you, and I ended up getting in contact with the Dean of Boston University, and he knows who I am. We ended up talking and I managed to get a college application from him and he said if you're interested and if your application checks out, he can arrange a meeting between you two so you can get into any program you want no matter the cost." Fez said as Lexi read the college application with an incredulous look on her face.
"Oh my god..." Lexi muttered as she read through the application.
"Boston University is one of the most private Universities in the country! Fez! You... you really want me to go to college?"
"Of course I do! That's one of your dreams, ain't it?"
"Yeah."
"Well here it is, there ain't nothin' stopping you, ma."
"Holy shit..." Lexi muttered before kissing her husband.
"Thank you... this is absolutely, the best thing anyone has ever done for me. I love you." She said with tears in her eyes.
"I love you too. You deserve the world, and imma give it to you."
"Fez, you don't need to give me the world. All of this is enough." She replied as he smiled at her and kissed her.
After the kiss was broken, Lexi sighed contentedly before grinning.
"I'm going to fill out this application right now! Got a pencil?" She asked excitedly.
He went over to the register and grabbed a pencil from a nearby cup full of pens and pencils.
He handed her a pencil before she kissed his cheek and sat down a nearby empty register and started filling out her college application.
It was four in the morning the next day and still dark out when Fez woke up. He couldn't sleep. He went downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water before he saw his grandmother in the living room, smoking a cigarette and just sitting there with one lamp on.
"What're you doin' up, Snowflake?" She asked as she turned to see him gazing at her from the hall.
"Couldn't sleep. Why're you up?"
"Same thing. Come on and sit beside grandma, I wanna talk to ya."
He set his water down on a coaster on the coffee table and sat down beside her.
"How's your wife?"
"She's doin' good. She's been a little sick recently but she's pretty damn strong."
"That's good. Why do you think she's been sick?"
"Why? Uh, the fuck if I know."
"Really? You both got back from your honeymoon some weeks ago and you can't put two and two together about why she's been sick lately?" Marie asked with a raised brow.
"No."
"She might be pregnant, Snowflake."
Fezco's eyes widened before he spoke.
"You think she might be-"
"Yup."
"Well how the fuck would we know for sure!?"
"Take her to a doctor... as much as it pains me to fuckin' say that."
"Shit. Wow. I'll do that. But I gotta be sure I can trust her doctor."
"Oh of course! If she is pregnant, are you happy?"
"Of fuckin' course! She might be havin' my kid."
"If you're as happy as you say you are, then why do you look so fuckin' pale?"
Fez was at a loss for words momentarily.
"I... Uh..."
"Don't start stutterin' on me now. What is it, kid?" Marie said in a gentle tone.
"I... I don't wanna be like him."
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
"Look at me Snowflake. You ain't nothin' like your bastard father, alright? I've seen the way you look at your wife. You love her and she loves you. And if she's knocked up, you're gonna love and protect that kid like the father you never fuckin' had. You hear me?"
"Yeah."
"Ain't nothin' to be afraid of. With all that being said... I gotta ask, does she know about the business?"
"No I haven't told her shit."
Marie took a drag of her cigarette before looking at her grandson.
"Tell her, show her. She's family now. She deserves to know."
"I love you grams but hell nah. Ain't nothin' bout that life I ever wanted her to see or know about. She not built like us, and it's too dangerous. She's better off not knowing-"
"Not knowing what?" Lexi asked as she gazed at Fez and Marie on the couch.
Fez looked as pale as a ghost, his eyes wide.
"Not knowing what, Fez?" Lexi asked more firmly this time.
"What are you doin' up so late baby?" Fez deflected.
"I'm not answering your question until you answer mine."
"Lexi... you don't wanna know, ma." Fez said as he shook his head.
"Fez! What are you hiding from me!?" Lexi begged.
Fezco stood up and gazed back at his grandma. She gave him a silent nod.
He hesitantly looked at Lexi.
"Alright. I'll show you. But you gotta promise me, you ain't gonna tell nobody about any of this." Fez said as he started to lead her down into the basement.
He turned the light on and to Lexi's surprise there was a wooden table, a few boxes, and a bunch of guns lined up against the wall. A cash register was on the table as well.
"What... What is all of this?"
Fezco turned around and faced her.
"I'm a drug dealer Lexi. I... make my money from the store but most of it is from drug dealing. Grandma started this entire thing, she raised me and Ash to continue dealing drugs. I... honestly, I don't wanna be doing this shit for the rest of my life. And now since I'm married to you, I really don't wanna be doin' this shit no more. It's too dangerous for a man who has people he loves." Fez admitted.
"Fezco... I... I don't mind it. If it's what you do and if it's the only thing you know then... I don't mind it. I still love you. Please don't think that you telling me this is gonna make me leave you or anything, because it's not. Drug dealer or not, that doesn't define you, Fez. You're a good man. You're not a monster. Sure, drug dealing is... very wrong and... very illegal but, you're smart enough to know all of that and want to quit doing it, and that takes a lot of strength. I'm very proud of you for that and for opening up and telling me." Lexi said as she placed her palm onto his cheek lovingly.
"There's so much more I ain't opened up to you and told you yet, ma."
"Well, I'm all ears."
"For starters, I gotta ask you somethin'."
"Yeah?"
"You been sick these past few days?"
"Yeah."
"Do you... do you think you might be pregnant?"
Lexi was silent for a moment.
"I... I don't know... I might be. I very well could be. I think we should go to the doctor to be sure."
"Alright, but it gotta be a doctor that we can trust. Can't trust just anybody when you a drug dealer or the wife of one."
Lexi nodded in agreement.
"If you are pregnant... I-"
"Would you be happy if I was?" She asked.
"Yeah of course... but... I ain't gonna lie to you, ma. Imma be real fuckin' honest... I'm scared." He said in a low voice, as he gave her a worried doe-eyed look.
"Of what, Fez?" Lexi asked as she put her hand on his shoulders comfortingly.
"That... That imma be like my old man."
"Like... your father? And... what was your father like? You never really told me about him or your mom."
Fez took a deep yet shaky breath.
"I uh... I don't really remember my mom. Grandma told me she took off and left not long after I was born. I don't know if she wanted me or not. Paulie... my dad... he was... a fuckin' monster. Motherfucker used to beat the shit outta me every fuckin' day. If I so much as took a breath or blinked when he was around... bam." Fez mimicked getting punched in the face.
Lexi gazed at Fez with a horrified and heartbroken look on her face. She couldn't imagine being beaten as a child like that, day in and day out. She felt horrible for Fez. He never deserved that, no one ever deserved that.
"He used to manage a strip club here in Boston in the 50s and 60s. Odd Ball Cabaret. He would bring me there with him. I saw shit no little kid should ever fuckin see. I learned about the female anatomy real early real quick, it was all just so... fucked up. Anyways, grandma found out he was beating me one day and it was the day where we were at the club and he really did a fuckin' number on me that day... the way he was punchin' me... it's a wonder I even remember anything at all. Well, grandma strolled up into the club, got me up outta there but then she went back inside..."
"I... hope she killed him." Lexi said in disgust.
"All I know is, she shot him twice in his fuckin' thighs and after she came out of the club, I never saw him again."
"Good."
"Yeah. I say all this to get to my point... I don't wanna ever treat my kid like that, Lex. I-"
"Fez, stop. You don't have any of that in you. You came from a broken home and a fucked up, abusive father but none of that is inside of you. You're not him. You're Fezco O'Neill and you're the sweetest most loving man I've ever loved and when we do have a baby, you're going to be the best father the world has ever seen, drug dealer or not."
"I don't plan on dealing when we have kids Lex. I... Imma do shit I've always wanted to do. With you and our kids of course." Fez said as he held her.
Lexi held him tightly.
"Oh? And what's that?" She asked curiously.
"Buy a farm and live like that family on Little House on The Prairie. Have like cows and chickens and all that good shit." Fez said with a smile.
Lexi smiled at him as she heard him.
"Oh Fez that sounds amazing. But... what about my college classes?"
"Imma take care of the kids while you out gettin' your education, ma. I'm sure Ash and Faye wouldn't mind helpin' out too."
"That sounds wonderful Fez. I love you."
"Love you too, baby. Let's go back to sleep. We gotta start packing tomorrow."
"Yeah. Alright."
The couple went back upstairs together hand in hand.
Nate was rifling through several business documents from Aspen the day before the party. He was somewhat impressed... the man knew about everyone in his cult and kept a file on everyone. He even had documents detailing his dirty business deals with some Organization members.
Nate ended up coming across the Howard's file. He studied it, muttering to himself in his office as he read the file and the notes that Aspen had written.
"Gus Howard... unemployed... husband to Suze Howard. Lives in Butchers Hollow, Kentucky. Father to two daughters Cassie Howard and Lexi Howard. Alcoholic... drug addict. Pain killers after car accident. June 14th, 1968 paid a hospital visit in private... requested more pain killers for him. Suze Howard... housewife... wife to Gus Howard. Previously successful arranged marriage until sometime in the 60s. Alcoholic... observed her drinking from a flask at meetings and during meetings. Loud, brash, tries to keep up appearances. Failed her marriage after husband left her. Almost ousted from the Organization if it wasn't for her daughters she offered up to be married. Cassie Howard. Oldest daughter to Gus and Suze Howard. Blonde, big chested and now married off to Nate Jacobs. I consider her to have the look of every wife that should have a successful marriage in the Organization. Lexi Howard. Youngest daughter to Gus and Suze Howard. Brunette, quiet personality, has an air of disobedience about her. She is one that I should watch."
He put the file down and sifted through another one only to discover that it was the O'Neill's file.
Nate immediately studied the file.
"Paulie O'Neill... owns Odd Ball Cabaret... once married in the Organization but wife left him after discovering how many deals he made with us... deals he couldn't keep track of. She left Boston but we found her. Found his wife and my men dealt with her to keep her quiet. Dealt with in January 15th in 1969 in Manhattan, New York. Name of Mrs. O'Neill is [REDACTED]. No one needs to know who she was since she has now been destroyed. Paulie owed $150,000 to us. Wire tapped his home in Boston. His mother is a criminal. Mother is Marie O'Neill. She runs MILK grocery store. Just a front for her real business in dealing drugs. Recording of phone conversations revealed that she threatened to take his son from him because of child abuse. One of my ladies gathered intel on this and Paulie does indeed abuse his son. Would have dealt with it sooner just so the Organization wouldn't look bad, but Marie got to it first. Found Paulie bleeding out in his own club where he died an hour later. His mother took in a young boy after taking her grandson in with her. Young boy's mother's whereabouts unknown. A blonde prostitute and pornstar named Faye hangs around the boy named Ashtray and the grandson. Fezco O'Neill... son of Paulie, grandson of Marie. Owner of MILK. We have reason to believe he is also a drug dealer because of his grandmother's influence. Now married to Lexi Howard. The O'Neill's illegal activities could put The Organization in danger if their dealings are continued and if they get caught. Must be ousted, destroyed or forced to hand their illegal business over to me. The O'Neills are a liability."
Nate couldn't believe it. The ginger's wealth wasn't because he owned a successful store... oh no, it was because he was a drug dealer. The fact that Aspen knew that and didn't do anything about it fast enough was pathetic.
The tall brunette man shook his head and laughed. He couldn't have come across this information at a better time.
He picked up the rotary phone receiver and spun the dial.
"Hello?"
"I found a smoking gun."
"How so?"
"Looked through the members of our sector and their files... including the ginger-"
"The one who almost killed you?"
"Yeah. I've got some shit on him and his whole family. Aspen wasn't as pathetic as we thought he was. He kept files on everyone, especially everyone in the eastern sector of The Organization. Our file is squeaky clean as it should be. Cassie and her family's file is relatively normal minus the fact she has alcoholic parents but her sister's husband's family file is a goddamn goldmine."
"What did you find, Nate?"
"He comes from a family of criminals, more specifically a family of drug dealers. All of it is illegal, Aspen planned to take them down since they're a liability to The Organization, probably wanted to make himself look like a hero too."
"Hm. And what are you gonna do with this information?" Cal asked.
Nate stayed silent for a moment with a dark and sinister grin on his face.
"You'll see." Nate said before hanging up.
Elliot decided to see Rue in Kentucky on a whim. He had phoned Leslie and his manager Ali drove him to their house.
"Thanks man." Elliot said.
"Hey man, you're welcome. Anytime. I wanted to meet this girl you're supposed to be marrying. Size her up, see if she's worth us busting our asses and coming to see her." Ali said as he turned off the radio that had been playing Superstition by Stevie Wonder.
Both men got out of the car.
"This is the right house?" Ali asked.
"Yeah it is. Your vibe is so off today, man. What's up?" Elliot asked.
"Nah man, I'm cool. Just not used to being so far down south like this. We're in the middle of the goddamn sticks out here. Besides, I gotta protect you. You're like my son, man."
"You can relax Ali. She's cool, her sister is cool, her friends are cool and... her mama is a fox too. You might like her. Her name is Leslie." Elliot said as he knocked on the front door.
"Really? Why the hell didn't you say that before? Got me all nervous and shit." He replied as he knocked on the front door a bit harder than Elliot had.
The door opened a few seconds later. Leslie had answered the door.
"Hi Elliot. And uh-"
"Ali Muhammad. I'm his manager, it's a pleasure to meet you." He said as he reached for Leslie's hand and kissed it before letting it go.
"Oh, well... it's a pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Muhammad." Leslie said, quite flustered at the flirtatious exchange.
"You can call me Ali." He said with a smile as he gazed at her.
"Alright, Ali. You both can come on in." Leslie replied with a smile, her gaze never leaving Ali's before she turned and led them into the house.
"You have a very nice house here Mrs. Bennett." Elliot said.
"Thank you. My husband bought it years ago."
"Oh and uh, where's Mr. Bennett?" Ali asked cautiously.
"Unfortunately he's passed away. He died of cancer a few years ago." Leslie replied as she walked into the living room with them.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. My condolences." He said in a solemn tone.
"Thank you. Why don't you both have a seat. Oh and are you also a part of The Organization, Ali?"
"I'm more into The Nation of Islam myself, but I've dabbled a bit in The Organization." He said as he sat down.
"Well, Rue's friend who recently got married is throwing a huge party in Cincinnati. All of The Eastern Sector Organization members are invited. If you and Elliot would like to come with us-"
"We'd love to go! Uh, well... I'd love to go. Not sure about Ali. What do you think, man?"
Ali sat and thought for a moment.
"Well, I don't see why not? I'll come too."
"Great! I'm sure they wouldn't mind. Do you both want anything to eat or drink?"
"I'll take some water, please."
"Same here."
"Sounds good, oh and I'll go see what's taking Rue so long. Rue! Elliot's here! Get down here!" Leslie called out as she disappeared around the corner.
"You weren't kidding, she is a fox. I gotta turn on some more of that Ali charm. Damn." Ali said in a hushed tone to Elliot.
"See man? I told you."
Leslie and Rue came into the living room a few seconds later.
Rue handed Elliot his glass of water because her mother wanted her to.
"Thanks. So, I thought it would be great if I took you out to dinner tonight."
"Wearing this fucking June Cleaver outfit?" Rue asked as she gestured to the dark green poodle skirt dress she was wearing, something her mother made her wear.
"Rue!" Leslie chastised.
"What!? You know it's a horrible dress. I mean come on, mom! It's squeezing me, I can't breathe and I look fucking ridiculous!"
"I gotta be honest Mrs. Bennett... she does look ridiculous." Elliot said with a smirk.
"Go put your bell bottoms on then." Leslie said begrudgingly giving in.
"Thank you." Rue muttered as she went back upstairs to change.
"I'm sorry about that. She can be quite moody at times."
"No worries. This one right here can be real temperamental at times too." Ali said as he pointed to Elliot before sipping his glass of water that Leslie had given him.
"Hey!" Elliot said, obviously offended.
"See what I mean?" Ali said with a smile.
Rue came back downstairs wearing a long-sleeved floral burgundy top and dark blue bell bottom jeans with black Candie's sandals.
"Ready. Oh and who's that?" Rue asked.
"That's Ali. My manager."
"Oh cool, is he coming with us or...?"
"Nah, you both go ahead out to dinner. I wanted to stick around and speak to Mrs. Bennett some more."
"Oh okay." Rue said with a shrug as Elliot got up.
"It was nice meeting you Rue." Ali said.
"Nice meeting you too."
"You both be careful." Leslie said.
"We will."
"Thank you so much for the water and the hospitality, Mrs. Bennett. I'll be back with Rue by no later than ten o'clock." Elliot said with a smile.
"You're welcome. And alright but no later than ten."
"You got it. Oh, Ali?"
"Yeah man?"
"Gimme the keys to the car."
Ali sighed before throwing him the keys after he got them out of his pocket.
"You crash my car or if I even see so much as a scratch or a dent, I'm-"
"I know! I know! My ass is grass." Elliot said as he turned on his heel and started walking out of the door with Rue in tow.
He opened up the car door for Rue and then went to the driver's side of the car and got in, putting the keys in the ignition and starting the car.
"So, you missed me?" Elliot asked teasingly.
"Did I miss that smug fucking look on your face? Hell no." Rue answered back playfully.
"Well, if it counts for anything while I was finishing up my last few gigs... I missed you."
He pulled out of the driveway and started driving down the street.
"You probably say that to all the chicks." Rue said as she rolled her eyes.
"No. You're the only chick I've ever said that to."
"Spare me the mushy shit, Prince Charming."
"I'm fucking serious, you're literally the only chick I've ever said that to. And you're gonna be the only chick I ever get to say that to, since we're gonna be married."
"Yeah. Don't take offense but... I really don't wanna get married." Rue admitted.
"You like me don't you?"
"Yeah I like you! I just... never vibed with The Organization marrying off the women to random guys. I mean, I was born into it but... I just never got it, and I never saw a fucking point to it."
"I get where you're coming from. I mean, the men have always had more choices than the women and even as a kid, I thought that was really fucked up. I kinda always saw myself as a Horg."
"As a what?"
"A Horg. Half Organizationist, Half not an Organizationist."
"So half in and half out?"
"Yeah. I never vibed too much with it. It's part of the reason why I became a musician. It's rebellious, it's wild, it's freeing. You get to express yourself by playing music, you get to meet really interesting people who aren't hell bent on Organization beliefs, you get to have all the sex you want without the binds of marriage, and you get to have all the drugs you want."
"You... you do drugs?" Rue asked.
"Yeah. Pot, acid, I've done heroin, snorted coke, popped pills." Elliot said with no shame.
"What's it like?" She asked teasingly.
"What? Taking drugs?"
"No, getting high."
"Like you're floating and like nothing around you fucking matters. It's great."
"You got any?" Rue asked.
Elliot hit the brakes when he got to a red light.
"Rue Bennett... you askin' your future husband for drugs?" He asked teasingly with an incredulous look on his face.
"Hell yes."
"Oh, but what the fuck would your mama say if she found out her baby girl got high with the guy she arranged for her to marry?" He teased.
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." She replied.
"Ever got high before?"
"Yeah, I've smoked pot a few times and got high."
"Heh, you sure that wasn't oregano?" He teased.
"Shut up. You got any on you or not?"
Elliot smirked as he reached into the glove compartment and got out a big sandwich bag full of pot that had some paper with it.
"Roll one up Bennett. I've got the lighter. Wanna see you get high. Lucky for you we're going to a Chinese restaurant, so if you get the munchies you can have all the food you want." Elliot joked as he kept driving down the street, watching Rue roll up a joint out of the corner of his eye.
"Gimme a light." She said before placing the fat joint between her lips.
He pulled out his lighter and lit it up for her.
She took a nice big puff before leaning back in her seat.
"Like it?"
"Yeah. It's some good shit."
"Great. Puff again then pass it."
She took another puff before passing him the joint, he took it into his lips and took a few puffs before passing it back to her.
"Yeah, I feel like I'm floating already." Rue said with a smirk.
"Turn the radio up." Elliot said.
She did so and grinned as Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze blasted through the radio speakers.
Elliot laughed before coughing a bit.
"You know something... what if we fucking eloped? Like right now?" Rue asked before taking another hit.
"That would be badass. But don't you want a wedding dress? A reception? A fucking luncheon brawl?" He asked as he took another hit of pot as well.
Rue couldn't help but laugh.
"Shit. I don't think I'd mind watching another luncheon brawl to be honest. That shit was wild." She said.
"What the fuck was that even about?"
"My best friend's husband got insulted by her sister's husband and he beat his ass and his brother's ass."
"Which one was your friend?"
"The brunette. Her sister was the blonde one who got knocked on her ass... the dumb one with the big tits."
"Oh yeah. What happened after that?"
"Well, Jules and I-"
"The skinny blonde chick you're friends with?"
"Yeah, her and I called up Cassie... the one with the tits, on her honeymoon because our friend Maddy... she swore Cassie is being abused by that guy... her husband, the tall brunette fucker. So I called Cassie and she fucking hung up on me. Haven't talked to her since and now her and her husband are inviting everyone to their big ass Cincinnati mansion for a party."
"Woah, holy shit. So, the guy who got his ass beat might be beating up on your friend's sister, who just so happens to be his wife?"
"Yeah."
"That's the most fucked up thing I've ever heard. Wait... did they invite the guy who beat him up to the party they're throwing?"
"I don't know. I fucking hope not. That's like... asking to get your ass beat again. Lexi likes Fezco though, so he's alright in my book. Anyone who kicks an abusive piece of shit's ass is okay in my book."
"And Lexi is the brunette... she's the blonde girl, Cassie's sister?"
"Yeah."
"Well damn. I'm definitely going to that party. To be with you of course but, man... the drama."
"Right? Fuck those soap operas my mom watches, I'd rather see it play out in front of me." Rue replied.
They arrived at the Golden Lotus restaurant and put out the joint they had been smoking together. Elliot parked the car and both him and Rue went inside.
Both of them ordered fried rice and egg rolls, and kept talking the entire night.
By the time their dinner was over, it was almost ten.
"You're a damn good date, Rue." Elliot complimented.
"And you are too. I really enjoyed tonight. I honestly didn't think I would."
"Well, I'm full of surprises." He said as the bill for their food arrived. It had been so much food, they even had a to-go bag.
Elliot looked at the bill and reached into his pants pocket to get his wallet before he realized he didn't have his wallet with him.
"Shit..."
"I... forgot my purse too." Rue said.
Elliot smirked before gazing at Rue.
"You ever did a dine and dash before?" He asked.
"No. What the fuck is that?"
"It's exactly what you think it is... we eat then we run... without paying." He said quietly.
"My husband is so much fucking fun." Rue said as she grabbed the to-go bag and bolted out of the restaurant with Elliot.
They hopped back into the car and Elliot hit the gas, speeding off into the night down the road, the owner of the Golden Lotus yelling at them from his now empty parking lot.
The song Bad Company by Bad Company came on the radio as Elliot drove Rue home.
She couldn't stop staring at him, the street lights illuminating his face as the car kept moving.
He eventually pulled up in the Bennett's driveway.
"Well, that was a lot of fun. Holy shit. I-"
Elliot had gotten cut off by Rue leaning in and kissing him.
Elliot kissed back as the song More Than A Feeling by Boston came on the radio.
The kiss got more heated as the seconds passed and both Rue and Elliot's hands started roaming each other's bodies.
"Mmm..." Rue moaned.
Elliot broke the kiss, breathing heavily.
"You ever make it in a car?"
"No. You?"
"Plenty of times." He replied with a chuckle.
"You got anything?" She asked with a raised brow.
"Condoms? Uh, let's see..."
He started looking in the glove box and fishing through his pockets. Lucky enough he found one in his back pocket.
"Here it is." He said as he held it up triumphantly.
Rue got into the backseat of the car and Elliot did the same.
"You a virgin?" He asked.
"Fuck no. Now help me out of these pants." Rue said.
Elliot put the condom wrapper between his teeth as he helped Rue out of her bell bottoms.
Much to his surprise she wasn't wearing panties.
"Holy Moses! You don't fucking wear underwear?" Elliot asked, absolutely shocked.
"No. Too much work."
"I wanna fucking marry you tonight." He said as held onto the condom before he kissed her inner thigh before he started tonguing her clit.
"Fuck..." Rue moaned.
This was certainly going to be a long night.
End of Part One!
Link to Part 2
2 notes · View notes
faofinn · 1 year
Text
DAY 6: secrets revealed
@febuwhump
It had been a few days since Fao had been up in the middle of the night, putting in an NG tube for Steve so he’d stop being so stubborn and actually get some fluids and nutrition into him. He knew the older man didn’t talk much about his history, but Fao really did hate not knowing what was going on. Steve hadn’t told him much, just that it had happened before and there was nothing to worry about. Fao struggled to believe that - he’d been so stubborn about it, and if he was anything like the rest of them, he hid more than he should. 
The tube was still in, Steve still not over the flare enough to manage without it, but he’d get better with time. He wasn’t at work, choosing to take some last minute leave and focus on catching up on stuff in the basement. There was a lot of admin that needed doing, surprisingly, and it was a chance to get on top of it. 
Fao was down there with him, sorting through notes and making sure everything was filed properly and up to date. There was a comfortable silence settled on the pair, both just going about their business and happy not needing to fill the silence. 
"I don't remember what happened, y’know?" Steve spoke up. 
Fao lifted his head. “Don’t remember what happened when?” He asked.
"My accident. I've read the files, heard what they said, but I'm missing so much. I didn't recognise Bel for a month."
“Oh.” Fao said softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
"I owe you it." He sighed heavily. "Give me a second, I'll get the file."
“Still, it’s… It’s big, I know you don’t like telling us.”
"Why do I get to hide my records? Keep all these secrets?" He shrugged. "That's not fair."
“Because you wrote your own records.” Fao said lightly. 
"Doesn't mean I can do whatever."
“Kinda does, though.”
"You deserve to know."
“If you want me to.” Fao said. “I’m glad you trust me enough to share with me.”
"Of course I trust you. I know you’re not blood, but you might as well be a son."
Fao couldn’t help the tightness in his throat at that. “Jesus, don’t start.”
"I'll go grab the file." He cleared his own throat, heading off into his office. 
Fao sipped his tea, awkwardly chewing his lip whilst he waited. He didn’t want Steve to feel like he had to share. He was entitled to his privacy.
Steve returned with his file, several times larger than the usual public one. He dropped it by Fao, apologising under his breath. "My stuff is all in there, all the hospital records."
Fao looked at the thick file, raising an eyebrow. “Would you prefer if we went through it together?”
"If you want to. I can…I can tell you what I remember, and then what they told me, if you prefer?"
“Whatever is easiest for you, honestly.”
He managed a laugh as he pulled up a chair. "Neither are."
“We really don’t have to, Steve.” 
"It's fine. We…we were on our way back, we must have already have evaced our patient because I was definitely alone. I don’t know if they just misjudged it, or got distracted, or something else happened, but we fucked our landing. Our right wing took the barrier down, we spun and smashed everything in our path, basically. There was shit everywhere, as much as we'd secured it, at that speed, it was useless. I don’t know what knocked me out, but I had several impact points, so it had a good go at taking me out."
Fao’s breath hitched. “You were RAF, right?”
"Yeah. More medical, not that I was much use at that point."
“Bit difficult at that point.” He murmured. 
Steve's focus was on something Fao couldn’t see, long in the past. "My seatbelts were locked, they couldn't get me out quick enough and I don't know what happened with the cutter. There was a delay, I ended up with second and third degree burns down my back and thigh from it. Broken ankle, fractured T2, T3, dislocated shoulder, wrist and elbow, and, uh, obviously my head."
Fao nodded slowly. “That’s… a lot.”
"I don't remember the month before it still, but at the time, there was nothing. I didn't recognise Bella, or the twins. Not that they saw me at first, I was too much of a state."
Steve rarely spoke about his family from before. Fao swallowed thickly, looking down. “I can’t even imagine.”
"Took me six months to get it back."
“How old were the… the twins?” The question felt foreign in Fao’s mouth. 
"Eighteen months. I missed so much. Bel always said I'd catch up…I never did."
“I’m sorry.”
"I missed a lot of firsts, and the ones I got," he shook his head. "The ones I got…I wouldn't wish on anyone."
Fao cleared his throat. “It must have taken you a while to get back into everything, especially surgically.”
"Another eighteen months, just to get back to where I was. I was lucky, really,  my deficits ended up being physical, like my speech and swallowing."
“Is that the only thing you still struggle with?” Fao asked, mostly curious. “The back or anything?”
"Reduced sensations at times, various other problems, the burn scars kill me at times too. It feels like they're burnt all over again, when they debride it, god. Never again."
“Yeah, that’s brutal. Really, really tough.”
"The PTSD is a bit shit too."
“Now that’s something I can understand.”
"Yeah."
“I honestly just want to help.” Fao said softly, trying to find the words. “I know it’s easy to hide things and not want to get other people involved, but I could’ve helped you out ages before if you’d just asked. I wouldn’t have asked anything, either. So if there’s anything you need, no judgement or questions other than what I need to know to be safe… I’m here.”
Steve found himself choked up, and he shook his head, taking a moment. "Thank you."
“Let’s just try not to be so damn stubborn and accept help from now on.”
"Easier said than done."
“I know.”
"The pain never really goes away, but you deal with it until you can’t. I don't usually have problems breathing and eating and all that, but when it flares, it flares. 
"Work aren't ever happy about it, why would they be? A fucking neurosurgeon that can't feel his hands because the whole arm feels like it's on fire. The tremors I get when I get so low, I just…I don't know. I'd never do anything to put 
the patient at risk, but they just care about the image."
Fao nodded, taking it all in. “It must be really hard, but you’re an amazing doctor. I can tell you care so much about your patients, you’ve taught me so much.” He said softly. “We’re lucky to have you, and if work can’t see it too then they’re idiots.”
"Thank you, Fao. It means a lot"
Fao moved to hug him. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
Steve hadn't expected that, but sighed and held him close. "Thank you, Fao."
4 notes · View notes
ode-to-spring · 1 year
Text
♡⋆.ೃ࿔* A QUIET MOMENT AWAY ~
being a respected figure comes with many perks, but equally as many consequences. sometimes, it isn't a bad thing to seek help from people you trust . . .
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ੈ♡ barbara x reader (intended to be platonic, but interpret this however you'd like<3) ੈ♡ category :: sort of hurt/comfort? barbara isn't doing too well before the events of this, reader comes to comfort her for a bit ੈ♡ warnings :: barbara is vv tired, this sort of came out as a vent fic because of themes of being overwhelmed & overworked, not having time for yourself, and other things of the like ੈ♡ a/n :: omg emilia posting?? for the first time in forever ?!? i'm really sorry for the inactivity :( a lot of stuffs been happening but i'm hoping to become more active here soon!!
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the sun is already near disappearing into the horizon when you meet barbara at your designated spot. 
it’s nothing fancy, unlike what most would expect— it’s quite the opposite, if anything. you sat only atop a neatly placed picnic blanket by the roots of the great windrise tree, with a basket full of handmade goods set beside you, and casual clothing from the bottom of your wardrobe… just as barbara had requested. 
“i’m terribly sorry for the delay! something came up at the cathedral earlier, and all the sisters were looking to me for what to do, so i left later than i’d expected today—” she started blurting out when you ran to greet her. she did seem to be fresh from a stressed frenzy, if you looked at her closely. the signature pigtails she always wore were a mess (one being already half untied), she hadn’t changed out of her deaconess uniform yet (likely because she ran out of the city after realizing she was late), but most of all the bags under her eyes vaguely reminded you of the dark side of a half moon (and they told you much about how the past few days have been treating her).
“hey, don’t worry about it. i haven’t been waiting for long.” you interrupted her string of apologies while brushing some hair out of her face. “besides, i know you’ve been busy with everything lately. i don’t mind”
what you said was true, of course. between church work and the new events in her idol career, the poor girl had barely been able to catch a break in a while. surprising, considering jean was usually the most well known for overworking herself to no end. maybe it ran in the family. 
“are you sure? i’m sorry anyways, i really am.” she started, but upon seeing the reassuring look on your face, she knew it wasn’t needed anymore. “still… thank you for waiting for me. it's been a while since i've been outside the city and.. i was really looking forward to seeing you again like this. just like old times.”
it had been far too long since you'd been able to be with her like this, yes. every time you'd see her on the streets, instead of having a casual chat as both of you would hope, she'd be dragged away by some pressing matter. if anything, that was the very reason you’d organized this little meet up in the first place. away from the prying eyes of the city people, who all only saw her for who she wanted them to. whether it was as their reliable deaconess, their bubbly pop idol, or the kindhearted healer that gets visited a bit too often, you wanted to pull her out of that even only for a little while.
here, under the tree that heals spirits, it was only the two of you. as you talked well into the night until the stars twinkled happily above, it started feeling less and less like you were talking to the respected deaconess, and more like you were speaking to just barbara. and for you, that was more than enough.
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ladydragonkiller · 1 year
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Good evening!
I'm sorry to get back to you so late. I've been a bit busy the past few days and haven't had time to write to you. I agree wholeheartedly with everything you said about warm colors. I love the colors of nature, the sun-warmed dirt and the streams of light through the trees. I like the colors of sunlight scattered through the air, and the yellow-oranges like nectar. I like greens too, like pine trees on a mountain road and the dark, wet warmth of moss.
Do you like spending time outside, or prefer to be indoors?
Also, if I might ask another question, have you decided what your role in this is yet? Since you have a cowboy and a knight?
Warm regards,
M. Cowboy
(p.s. One of these days, I feel like I'm going to accidentally forget to click anonymous. That would ruin the fun, wouldn't it?)
Good evening to you as well!
No worries for the delayed response! I'm not always the most punctual myself. Though I must admit to wondering (and looking forward to) when you'd next reply. I hope it was the good sort of busy, or at least that it's calmed down now!
I am going to sit in these descriptions like a warm bath. I agree, rebog.
I enjoy both, but do start to get a bit stir-crazy if I'm indoors 24/7. I've got a summer job at the farm that absolutely spoils me for sunlight during the warmer months, but am busy enough with school during winter that it becomes difficult to set aside time for getting a breath of fresh air.
The past few weeks, it's been warm enough that we can open the windows sporadically. This is my favorite thing. open windows my absolute beloved. someday i'll have a porch and ascend into the heavens
As I see it, there are three options (though I'm sure there are plenty others that I haven't considered). First, a pirate. This dips into the mechanisms, which is always a plus, and has some top tier aesthetics. Cowboy, knight, and pirate is a good sounding trio, a nice mixing of concepts and so on.
Second, a lady prince. This arises from a discussion I was having with a friend on discord earlier, in which we pondered the various genders that arise from attaching "lady" to traditionally male titles. However, this carries the issue of sounding a little closer in vibes to knight than cowboy, and I wouldn't want to exclude you. Also, I'm not super attached to this one in general.
Third, well. It's in the blog name, isn't it? 🐉
(that would be quite the surprise. the best i can recommend is keeping a post it on your screen, but i have a feeling that wouldn't be very efficient for 99% of your day. good luck and godspeed)
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dallasewing · 5 months
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Weeks 3-4 Post
Hello, you lot, how am ya?  
It's great to be back with another post! I've had a busy few weeks, that's for certain, so let's have a quick dive into what I've been doing! 
I've been slowly adjusting to the new systems and workflows that I detailed in the previous post, and overall, they've been hugely important, and I've been able to apply tidbits of info to my own personal life outside of this blog, so that's awesome!  
But, without any more delay, let's get into the real meat of this post... 
So how did these weeks go? Well, I feel on the whole they were all quite successful! I've made a tonne of progress with my knowledge on FX pedal recording, and overall, I think this has been my biggest win so far! I've explored different types of FX and how to create certain tones using these, and managed to identify and understand a wide variety of use-cases regarding these. As for bass guitar recording, I've managed to get a solid grasp on the different techniques and tone-creating possibilities, as well as the two main methods of recording bass. I'm yet to finish my final evidence for this week, however, mainly down to being unable to access necessary rooms and equipment, but it'll be done as soon as I've got a moment to do so; I'm perfectly prepared.  
As for mixing, I've managed to get a great understanding of EQ parameters, the different types of equalisers, and even explored some ear training techniques and frequency identification! I already feel much more comfortable approaching EQ when mixing and identifying potential issues within a certain track, however my frequency identification skills are far from the level I want them to be at, and this week has helped me to identify that. I've also conducted research into guitar and bass mixing, and I am fully prepared to apply this research into a practical scenario (you'll be able to find my evidence the moment I've uploaded it by coming back to the links at the bottom of this post!); again, I'm just waiting for the moment to record my bass stems, which I'll then use for the mixing practical. 
Instrument techniques have been on the whole a solid success this past fortnight as well: I've learned and developed a successful piano practice routine that allows me to build up the key skill areas and techniques that I've identified, using research and drills recommended to me by reliable internet sources. Concerning the tambourine; I feel that, whilst there wasn't much research that could actually be conducted this week, I've still come away with a great understanding of the techniques and uses of this instrument - knowledge that'll stay with me and help moving forwards into my career!  
And then, moving forwards from here, I'll be exploring how to record vocals and piano effectively, looking at any essential mic techniques and equipment needed to maximise quality and efficiency, and will aim to record some newer versions of the previous stems I've recorded (in the PREP folders found in my Intro Post) evidencing these new pieces of knowledge. I'll be looking at how to mix and balance vocals properly, exploring common compression, EQ and noise gate settings for these, as well as harmony mixing and pitch correction. I'll also be exploring using and applying post-production FX, what these are and how I can use them to enhance a mix! Then, I'll be looking at developing some more drum rudiments and building a practice routine around these, with the goal being that I can use a practice pad every day and slowly build up key skills and techniques, similar to my piano practice routine. Finally, I plan on exploring the more complex sides of harmony on the piano, investigating how to play inversions, extended chords and unique voicings on both one hand and two - for a bit of context: I have no intention of becoming Elton John, and I'm only really interested in the harmony side of piano, so, to me, playing great sounding harmonies over two hands is more important than playing harmonies and melodies.   
As a quick little update: I'm really chuffed that I decided to omit Songwriting from this course, and, as much as some of you might have wanted it, I feel it's allowed me to place more time and effort on the key skills areas that matter to me, and It's also freed up a large amount of mental strain that I was developing whilst trying to balance 4 skill areas at once; 3 has turned out to be so much more manageable, especially as they all interlink with one another. 
Here's to another two weeks of knowledge building and development! 
Stay frosty!  
Caleb 
P.S. As usual, here are the links for each section's folder! 
P.P.S Here is the link to the updated Weekly Plan! 
Week 3 
- Recording Techniques 
- Mixing + Mastering 
- Instrumental Techniques 
Week 4 
- Recording Techniques 
- Mixing + Mastering 
- Instrumental Techniques
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chelleztjs18 · 1 year
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Hello you mrs. lady robin hood honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag 😅
Oh no! Delays suck. But it's good that you guys got to CA safely. That's a long drive from the airport to their house..
I am freezing my butt over here. It is snowing and the temperature is down to 10 degrees. Do you wanna trade? I can go enjoy the heat in CA while you play in the snow here. Hahaha 🤣 so all the clothes you brought are thick layers? Hopefully it does get cold but I doubt it because all the cold temperatures are heading my way haha
Hm so you like stories that have a dark theme to it?
So I listened to some songs of Glass Animals. I love his voice. It gives me a soft bar vibe hahaha I think my favorite so far is Your Love. And I didn't know they are the ones who sings Heat Wave. I like that song too.
Hm is it bad that I have a lot of crushes? Hahaha 😅 okay so technically one of them is the girl from the past that I have been crushing on since grade school. I've always like her since we were younger and we don't talk much now but whenever I see her on social media, it's like feelings come back?? And I hate it lol.
The others are sort of recent. Yeah the tumblr crush, she's cool but I don't know, I don't wanna put feelings into it because it might turn out bad.
Haha I guess I could be. One time for our anniversary, I gave her a book of all the letters I wrote to her but never sent (because we were long distance at first).
Sounds like a busy day! How many brothers does he have? So his parents are not together?
Anyways, it's almost Christmas time! Are you guys going to take Emily to see some lights or decorated houses?
- CuriousGeorge
Corn-punn righty eyebag! Hello hello! I'm back! But i bet u r asleep already since u r 2 hours ahead i think.
I tried not to be rude to be on the phone when they were talking.
How r u? Hows everything in the last 2 days?
Sorry for the late reply.. we went to have sushi for lunch, then went to his brother's house to chill nncatch up. Got mexican food for dinner n too the kids to see christmas light neighborhood. Em fell asleep so easy because she was so tired. She had a big meltdown before go to dinner but thank god we could handle it.hahaha.
I'm so tired today.. i had to wake up early tomorrow because im gonna go to indonesian food place to hv some food n bring home some desert. 😁
Hahaha yeah we can trade place n weather for a bit .today was kinda chilly n windy so i still wore my pull over hoodie n thick jeans at noon n wore my coat at night when we were walking to see the christmas light.
I didnt bring all of the thick clothes but u brought long sleeves. Some of them r thick ones, some of them r thin.. i got upset because i took out the cardigans last minutes. Which they would be perfect for the weather right now.🙄😒
Yeah i like dark stories or thriller that has that vibes i told u. Because usually it focuses more on the antagonist's mind such as why they do what they did, or why they did it n what wrong step they did that got them caught, or the revelation of who did it.. N it's interesting. Even better that usually it has plot twist at the end. I love movies like that. I can recommend u some movies like that if u want. 😊
I wish i can write that kind of story someday.. 😊 a thriller story.
Yeah i love Glass Animals. The singer's voice is pretty unique.. n their style of music is pretty different. I love Your Love song. It inspired an interesting plot idea..😁
He has 3 younger brothers. He is the oldest. N em is the first granddaughter on his dad's side. His parents divorced a long time ago but they get a long well so they still hang out or attend each other's family gathering.
Yes we took em n her cousins see christmas light neighborhood. There are quite a few big neighborhood that do that every year on christmas n halloween too.
It sucks when i got the chance to reply u, u r either not awake yet or already went to bed because of the time difference. But oh well, i hope it doesnt bore u from waiting. Just leave me next questions after this. Will for sure still reply u asap
Cheerio!
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