#he wont even lick a plate clean i have to set the plate on his bowl lol

[mozak-hh]

Genshin Impact Headcanon:

When they’re horny.

thank you all so much for the genshin matchup requests! The response was so overwhelming I’m beaming. I’ll try getting through as many requests as I can so while you guys wait I’ve decided to write you a little something in appreciation. ^^ I also added my first female character because I was sick of the lack of gender diversity hehe. If you like Jean, pls comment any other fem requests you may have since it really helps out a lot. Don’t be afraid to ask me to write anything either, it’s my job after all! x

Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Jean

Type: Nsfw, you have been warned~

Kaeya:

When is this man not horny?

Perhaps it was the change of wind, or maybe it was the change in your attitude that set Kaeya off. The subtle lift of your skirt, the breeze making the collar of your shirt flow, Kaeya couldn’t resist the temptation of wanting more. He was a man after all. A man who fancied you quite significantly.  How could he resist the primal urge to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer? Your scent was mesmerizing, making it hard to turn away. Suddenly Kaeya found his body had become too warm to stand it. 

Kaeya growled in lustrous frustration. A Bead of sweat dripping from the crown of his head. The damp air of the shower only adding to the sensual heat in his lower abdomen. The hot water covered his broad shoulders and streamed down his toned abdomen, gliding over his hand as he pumped his cock in slow, rhythmic motions. 

Perhaps it was the change in scenery, being away from you for so long that is, which brought Kaeya into this animalistic state. He lifted his head up and jerked his arm faster. Streams of water following the curves of his muscles. He’d already seen you that morning, but his heat had gotten a lot worse. He imagined your small frame pressed against the shower wall, covered by his taller build. Arms captured in his own as he thrusted into you. You squeezing your legs which were wrapped around his waist. Locking him in your tight wet walls.

“f-fuck it..,” Kaeya moaned as he turned to lock away from his throbbing cock. rubbing his callused hands over the soft tip, pumping his hand a few more times before letting out a chocked moan. Cumming all over the wall in front of him, and letting the water wash the rest of the sweat off his body.

Damn. Kaeya sure as hell wouldn’t be spending another night in the shower alone.  

Diluc:

Diluc is a busy man, so its often that he doesn’t have the time to enjoy simple pleasures such as sex. But after weeks after not being able to spend one night with you, he becomes ravenous. 

He becomes rather snappy and short tempered. Not being able to handle any person touching him. This wont interrupt his work performance much, but it’ll make him a lot less polite, often making his staff tend to the bar instead of him. That is, until you see him one late night during his rut. 

You went to his winery to provide him with some necessary information. The maids let you in and told you he was upstairs. Once you began to move slowly towards his bedroom chambers is when you heard the painful grunt. 

You rush to door and open it slightly, peering to see if anyone was hurt. It seems as if time had slowed down completely, your breath hitched. Diluc sat at the corner of his bead, palming the large bulge straining beneath his pants. Half of his buttons on his shirt were undone, leaving his exposed chest gleaming with sweat. He must of had good hearing, as his eyes snapped to the door where his eyes instantly met yours. 

“Oh Fuck.. you look delicious..” Diluc’s eyes scanned your form, licking his lips as he stood from his bed. As soon as you silently shut the door behind you he wrapped his strong arms around your body, letting him hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Diluc becomes a little more loud during sex, perhaps even a bit whiny. All while hugging you so you can’t leave. For the rest of the night, Diluc has to have his cock inside you. Gripping you tightly and fucking you senselessly. He won’t stop until he can’t breathe. 

Jean:

Jean’s another hopeless case, never allowing herself to indulge in such matters. But after getting involved in you, she suddenly finds herself waiting for her day to end, signalling her to go home. For jean, it’s the thought of her face in between your thighs that make her legs feel light beneath her office desk. 

Being under a heavy workload all the time, doesn’t do any good either. Unfortunately for Jean, there is no such thing as a sweet release during her breaks. that is, until you stride into her office, tray in hand. 

After hearing about Jean’s stress this pass week, you decided it would be a perfect chance to bring her lunch. Striding into her office, Jean’s legs start to shake, fire swelling in her stomach. You smile, and place the tray of hot food on her desk. Jean’s mouth waters, but not for the food.

“Oh you poor thing! I couldn’t imagine sitting at this desk all day. I brought some things I thought you might like-” you look down at the plate on the desk, “ I’m hope I didn’t intrude-” 

“Y/N baby~” Jeans huffs under her breath, standing up and pushing her chair abruptly. By the time your eyes snap back up, Jean’s already moved the tray of food, and taps your shoulder from behind you. Turning around, your met with a harsh kiss. Jean’s tongue dominating the inside of your mouth, making your cheeks flush and knees grow weak. You loose your balance, falling down towards the desk. Jean takes this opportunity to rest your head in her hand, gently lowering you down and slamming her other hand on the desk to catch you both before starting to kiss you again. 

You wrap your hands around Jean’s neck, running your hands through the back of her head. You whine as she stands, making her way towards the door and locking it. She turns around after the soft click, and strides back towards you, loosening the buttons on her shirt. 

 Licking her lips, she stands above you. Lightly yanking your shorts.

“Let’s take these off, shall we?”

(Sorry I’m a simp for dom Jean pls send help)

Xiao: 

This guy goes through regular periods of heat, like an animal. Perhaps It’s an adepti thing, but every so often he’ll stop talking to you and shut himself within the walls of the inn. Not even the managers go near him, fearing the unusual scent coming from his chambers. This man wont let himself stop. Only using his time to pleasure himself. 

Somehow in your right mind you decide to check up on him to make sure he was doing alright. Ascending the stairs to the attic you catch the scent of something sweet, mixed with the smell of sweat and Xiao himself. The air begins to grow thick as you reach the door to his room. Turning the knob a few times you find it to be locked from the outside. Panicking, you pound your fist on the door to see if someone had locked him inside.

Xiao smashes his fist through the door, wood splintering and groaning under his force. He rips the handle off clean, allowing himself to bust the door open and pull you inside. Trapping you beneath his body as he Hauls the broken door closed again. Seeling it with special magic.

“I knew you’d come for me~” he purrs, putting his thigh between your legs and caressing your face. Pinned up against the door, you notice Xiao’s ankles bound in thick metal cuffs, the long Chain connected to his bed. There were claw marks on every whole. It truly looked like he tried to destroy the place.

You try to break from his grip, but he blocks you with his arms, kissing you forcibly. His breath is hot, his hands tremble. “Touch me y/n, touch me” he wines, bringing your hand to press on his crotch as he moans into your neck.

Sex with this animalistic beast will be nothing short of desperate. From the minute you allow him to the end of his heat, Xiao will have his throbbing cock inside you. He won’t let you go, hugging you from behind as he pounds into you. Don’t try to run away from him, that’ll just turn him on.

At the end of his heat he’ll probably feel so bad but if you’re ok with it he’ll have you around more often during his heat.

Hope you enjoyed~

#genshin #genshin impact #diluc #genshin impact headcanons #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin jean #genshin xiao #Xiao #Kaeya #Jean

[hiro-gari]

Batarou Headcanon - Special Valentine's Day

by: Little1993lamb for: Lilia / @hiro-gari

Word count: 1894 Warning: Lots of passionate kisses scene and makeout implication in the end between Garou and Badd, but nothing explicit.

Hewwo, I'm back again with more Batarou mini-headcanon! 🙋😆💕 Still Valentine's Day themed eventhough it's probably has ended already, but whatever we still got the spirit of it waah I'm so sorry for the lateness 😅😂

Okay let's start on the headcanon! 😋💝🍫

-----------------------------

After Garou moved into Badd's house and living together with the S-Class Hero, Garou and Badd become like chaotic bestfriends before they actually starts dating. They're already trusting and very comfortable with eachother, hence they didn't mind on doing some skinship as a way of showing affection.

Be it like flirting, old married couple bickering, holding hands, intimate hug, sleeping together, cuddling, snuggling, kisses but only as far as kiss on the cheek or light peck on the lips. Many people often mistaken them as a real dating couple because of that, not knowing Garou and Badd just messed with them by being affectionate to eachother for fun. They just love to tease those people with some more-than-friends PDA actings.

Sometimes Garou would asking Badd to act like boyfriends when he wanted to get special offering or even a discount for couple on cafe or restaurant or amusement park. Badd just rolled his eyes at Garou's stupid idea but agreeing to do that with him nonetheless. Besides, saving money by doing simple lovey dovey things with Garou? Why not?

Badd is gaining more benefits from it anyways, especially that he could becomes closer with Garou. Same with Garou, he likes it when Badd showing him his rare affectionate side ONLY for Garou...

-----------------------------

Then Valentine's Day has come. After going back from Hero Association's meeting, Badd was contemplating himself if he should buy an another gift for Garou aside for Zenko (which consisted of Amai Mask's rare autograph that he struggled himself to beg for that annoying idol hero, a big kitty plushie, and also a pack of premium caramel-filled chocolate truffle wrapped in cute designed box).

Because Badd wanted to appreciate his ongoing friendship with Garou, also limited budget as he already bought expensive gifts for Zenko, he decided to make a homemade chocolate cake for the wolfboy.

Fortunately Garou was still doing his part-time job at that afternoon, so Badd proceeded to bake the chocolate cake on home. He used his late mom's best recipe as his way to remember the memories they had spent together doing their cooking hobby. Also because Badd wanted to give Garou a special and meaningful present by making something he made by himself.

On the evening after celebrating mini Valentine's Day party with Zenko at home, Garou finally coming back home from work. Badd and Zenko welcomed him warmly then asking him to join dinner together with them.

Of course Garou more appreciating this kind of small family dinner but feels very homey than any luxury dinner at 5-star restaurant. He always dreamed about having family dinner with warm and cheerful setting, who truly cares for his well-being no matter what happen.

Now that he lives with Badd, Garou could enjoyed Badd's and Zenko's happy chatting with each other in front of him on every dinnertime and he also could eat many of his favorite food as much as much as he wanted. Or sometimes Badd even giving more food on his plate if he was being generous enough on that day.

Besides, he loves Badd's own cooking, too! Still tasted like 5-star gourmet meal but much better!

------------------------------

Dinner time just ended and all the dish were cleaned already, Badd ordered Garou to take a shower before going to bed. And while Garou still in the shower, Badd prepared a surprise Valentine's Day for Garou. He took the cake from the fridge and placed it on top of small table in their shared bedroom while waiting for Garou to come out from the bathroom.

After Garou finished taking a bath and had changed with clean clothes, he found Badd sitting on the couch smiling proudly, then standing out and walking towards him while bringing a mini chocolate cake.

Badd said, "Happy Valentine's Day, Wolfboy! Here you go your special present, better appreciate it because I made it myself", before gently handing his homemade chocolate cake to Garou.

Days before Valentine's day, Garou often jokingly teasing Badd that he couldn't wait for Badd's handmade chocolate gift, which would earned Garou a flustered Badd everytime he said that. But of course Garou just kidding since he wasn't really sure if Badd likes him enough to actually gives him a present, because while they're already become bestfriends Garou couldn't help but secretly pining for Badd.

Garou was speechless, he just stared at the beautiful dessert gift from his bestfriend on his hands. It was a chocolate frosted cake with fresh raspberries decoration, also somehow Badd delicately added Garou's name and cute wolf paw signature written on top of the cake. A simple cake but feels very personal. And it's for him, too?? Nobody ever gives him personally handmade stuff to him before!

He still couldn't believe Badd went as far as spending whole afternoon just to prepare a Valentine gift for him. Garou was so moved by this.

So with a wide cheeky grin, he thanked Badd and start slicing the cake by a plastic knife. But he wasn't immediately eating it, instead Garou took Badd's hand, made him sitting on bedside together with him, then offered the hero to eat the cake together.

Badd was actually a bit surprised by Garou's offering since it was the gift for the wolfboy and not him, but since he asked nicely then why not. Plus he can tasted his own creation to know if it's good or not.

Except there was only a single fork available.

Badd was gonna get an extra fork from kitchen but Garou said it's alright, they can share one fork by taking turn on having a bite for the cake. Besides, he would be very glad to be handfed by Badd, anyways! Badd really wanted to smack Garou hard with a pillow but he resisted it, he desperately trying to not being flustered by Garou's words.

So here the two bestfriends, who secretly pining on each other, taking turn on eating the cake by a single fork only. Garou was enthusiastically ate the delicious cake whereas Badd just munching it while blushing. Only Badd was aware that they were basically doing an indirect kiss!

Perhaps not many people care enough about silly indirect kiss thing, yet Badd couldn't help but cares since it involved Garou. His dearly bestfriend who also his secret crush.

As they finished eating (mostly it was Garou's doing as he always takes a big chunk of the cake at once), Badd noticed that Garou has a buttercream smear on the corner of his lips. 'Garou is truly a messy eater', thought Badd as he shakes his head in amusement. Already used to do it with Zenko, he wiped the cream off from Garou's face with his finger then licking it in very casual manner like no big deal.

But Garou watched him, dumbstrucked with what Badd had just done to him a moment before. Then without thinking, he gets closer towards Badd, reaching his face and tilted it a bit before kissing him.

Garou kissed Badd's plushy lips, so softly but longing. Tasting the mixture of sweetness between chocolate and buttercream, with a fruity hint of fresh raspberry from remaining aftertaste in his mouth. Just like a dreamy first kiss experience of a teenager. He knows Badd probably wont forgive him to do all of this but Garou absolutely never regretting his choice.

On the other hand, Badd was in pure shocked state once Garou touched his lips with his own. The moment their lips collided in a slow passionate kiss, Badd was melted in Garou's arms. He should be shoving the wolfboy off from him or slap his face. And yet he instead pulling Garou much closer to him as he clung his arms around the white haired teen, deepened their sweet kiss in the process.

After they run out of oxygen, they both released the lip-locking activity to take a quick breath before resuming their kiss again. Now even more eager than the first attempt as they poured their whole heart content onto eachother, letting the other know what they have been feeling after all this time.

Slowly, Garou laid Badd down on the bed without breaking their kiss. Badd embraced him tighter, one hand clutching on Garou's back and the other hand on Garou's short spiky hair. They keep doing such intimate act for some hot minutes until finally Garou ended it and released Badd from the kiss.

He gazed at Badd's face, who currently breathing hard, eyes hooded with barely hidden passion, and face blushing so red like a tomato. But then Garou saw his tender smile on his plushy pink lips, Badd looked so pretty with those rare soft smile that only reserved for him only.

He could feel Badd's hand slowly caressing his cheek, stroked it with so much affection, as if he wanted to convey his true feeling even more clearly to Garou. It encouraged Garou to also confessed his feeling for the beautiful hero.

"Love you, Short-stack. So much that I don't know if I can hide it from you any longer.. Sorry for suddenly kissing you out of nowhere-"

A finger touched his lips, sealing it shut for a moment.

"Shussh it's okay no need to apologize. I already know. Me too, Wolfboy..", those tender smile still hasn't left Badd's lips, instead it got more brighter than ever.

Realizing his love has been reciprocated already, Garou let out a loud chuckle before dipped down to rub his nose on Badd's own excitedly before nuzzled his soft cheek, giving the smaller man a shower of little kisses on his cheeks, forehead, then his lips.

Badd was just as happy as Garou, he laughed along with him now that finally they leveled up their relationship into boyfriends after all of these silly mutual pinings for months. He accepted Garou's feeling right away, thinking he was so lucky they're become together in a very special day to any lovers: Valentine's Day.

So maybe upcoming dating anniversary for every Valentine's Day, perhaps?

Garou's gentle caress on his hair brings him back from his deep thoughts, he showed that trademark cocky smirk to Badd before asking, "Shall we do it again, hmm, babe?". He licked his own lips suggestively as a joke to tease Badd more further, making himself looked like a hungry wolf before devouring his delicious prey.

But who said Badd was an easy prey without fighting back? Of course he knows Garou was only joking, but the hotheaded hero wont let him gets whatever he wanted easily. If Garou wanted some dominance over him, he must earned it.

With a wide taunting grin, Badd accepted Garou's challenge, "Ooh you bet! Don't regret your decision, Moon Moon", before kissing him hard. He clung onto Garou and flipped him over on the bed so now Badd was on top of Garou, straddling his torso before proceed to continue their makeout session.

Garou couldn't hold a happy smile between their heated kisses, what a more better way to spending time on special event with your bestfriend-turned-into-newly-boyfriend than this? He let Badd enjoyed a brief dominance on him for awhile before he caught Badd off-guard, taking back the victory by flipping him over again, making the hero submitted to Garou.

Garou smirked when he saw Badd's tender yet teasing smile under him. This gonna be a long night.

---💝THE END💝---

------------------------------

Notes:

So how was it? Was this good? 😳✨ Aaaa I'm sorry this ended up being a mix of silly, fluffy, and a bit pervy, lmao! But don't worry trust me they just went as far as doing usual horny makeout between teenagers and not going past there (yet), ahahaha 😜😂

Because they only just start dating, right? They wanted to take it slow and of course Garou would respected any of Badd's decision because he loves him so much, then in turn Badd would appreciate any of Garou's adorkable effort in dating attempts 😊💕

But maybe in the near future they eventually would take the things more further hmm.. 😎✨

Anyways, there I give you (belated) Batarou Valentine's Day present! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it~ 😚😘❤💜💙💚💛💖💝🍫🌹💐

Special thanks for: @hiro-gari , @the-goddessfighter , @kaincuro , @guby1620 , @garous-nipple , @jusqu-une-etudiante ,and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas , also all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! (idk if the tagging worked but I love to mention you all, guys! hope you don't mind ilysm 😆💕💖)

-Little1993lamb-

-------------------------------

~Lilia:

oh my god I’m-

This is so cute and fluffy and perfect hnnnnngh 😭💕 I love their little nicknames for each other too oml choked on my drink cause I haven’t thought about Moon Moon in years and it made me laugh so hard

Thank you for the Valentine’s fluff anon!! Who cares what day it is we need the L O V E💖✨

someone pls let me know if the tags work also!!

#i’m drunk on the fluff #thank you 💖 #I’m so sorry if the tags haven’t been working 🙇‍♀️ 😓 #technologically challenged #batarou #garou #metal bat #opm #submission #anon #headcanon

[raendown]

Pairing: TobiramaKagami Rated: E Chapter: 4/4 Word count: 6250 Summary: It shouldn’t be so surprising that it’s Kagami who makes the opening move, asking for so little when he desires so much. From there their relationship unfolds in a tapestry of firsts they’ve both been waiting to experience.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Senpō

One night in Tobirama’s bed turned in to two. Two nights in Tobirama’s bed brought him back three days later to stay for another two nights. Rumors flew from one corner of the village to the other as they were wont to do but Kagami knew the truth; it wasn’t the sheets or anything they did between them that kept him coming back, it was the warmth in Tobirama’s eyes as they woke slowly in the rising dawn, the affection bare and open that he knew damn well how lucky he was to have earned. 

So no, it was not the fact that the man possessed hands clever enough to be illegal which had him showing up on a familiar doorstep for the third time this week. It certainly didn’t hurt, though, and he could admit to that. 

Kagami’s smile stretched from one side of his face to the other when the door opened, faltering only because the breath hitched in his chest to find Tobirama in a casual yukata belted loosely at the hips. The man didn’t even seem to properly understand how deadly he was. It was always so effortless for him. 

“I was starting to wonder where you were,” Tobirama said, beckoning him in. “You know you don’t have to knock, right? I keep telling you to just let yourself in.”

“And let your wards burn my head off? No thank you.” Placing his sandals neatly to one side, Kagami straightened only to squeak with surprise when he was immediately pulled in to a kiss. 

“You’ve been keyed in to my wards for years.” 

Tobirama swept away after stealing his breath and dropping a bomb on him as though entirely ignorant of the effect either would have on his guest. It took a minute or so for Kagami to work his way through that, wobbling down the hall and in to the living room on unsteady feet. Even after years of friendship and weeks of dating it still managed to blow him away how much trust this man put in him. What he had done to earn it he wasn’t sure but he was happy for it nonetheless. 

He found his boyfriend in the kitchen with both hands covered in bubbles, clearly only halfway through the night’s dishes. Kagami rubbed at his stomach and wished that he’d had the foresight to bring along something to eat, evening patrol was always boring and boredom usually led to hunger, but it was far from the first time he had gone without food. His stomach wouldn’t be happy with him come morning but it would survive. 

Or such were his thoughts until Tobirama looked over one shoulder with an indulgent smile and nodded to the other end of the counter where a plate sat off to one side with an upturned bowl covering it. Curious, he padded across the room to lift the bowl. Then he clutched at his stomach again to cover the motion of reaching up to touch his heart, almost moaning as the scent of soba noodles washed over him. His favorite. When he peeked over he finally saw there was a place already set for him at the table just waiting for him to bring the food over and enjoy - which he did after pressing himself against Tobirama’s back and showering his gratitude across the man’s shoulders with gentle kisses. 

It only took him a couple of minutes to inhale the delicious meal, quick enough the rest of the dishes weren’t even finished yet. He brought his bowl over to join the rest and snatched up a towel to do his part drying the ones already clean and resting in the second sink. 

“How did you know I hadn’t eaten?” he asked, carefully not moving his gaze away from the bowl he was sliding in to a cupboard. 

“You never eat during patrol,” was the simple answer. 

“I could have stopped to grab something on the way here.”

From the corner of his eye he could see Tobirama giving him an indulgent smile. “And spend more time away from my stellar company? What a suggestion.” 

As much as Kagami wanted to rib the man for being so full of himself he was right, that was the entire reason he had passed on the chance to feed himself. It wasn’t his fault that Tobirama’s company was so compelling. He knew better than to say that, though, lest he suffer through a round of gentle teasing. Most of the people who didn’t know him well would assume that Tobirama and teasing were two words that simply didn’t go together in a sentence but Kagami had learned years ago that he was merciless in having a laugh at his loved ones’ expense. 

Recently he had also discovered the man to be merciless when it came to teasing in bed as well. He still wasn’t sure if he loved it more than he hated it but he wasn’t going to ask for it to stop. It was way too good for that.

“Anyway, the food was still warm which means you didn’t cook it all that long ago. It’s pretty late. What time did you leave the office today without me there to drag you out?”

“Not late enough for the scolding I can see you preparing in your head,” Tobirama murmured.

Kagami eyed him suspiciously. “Mhm and then when you got home I suppose you just relaxed away the whole evening?”

“I may have brought a few documents home with me.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“Oh yes, do pardon me.” Tobirama set the last dish in the second sink and pulled the plug from under all the bubbles. “How horrible to get more work done today so that I might be free to lie in as long as I like tomorrow and watch the sunrise paint you like a masterpiece.”

“Guh,” was all the intelligent reply he could come up with. 

It just wasn’t fair how easily his partner could pull lines like that out of thin air. More than aware of the amusement that followed him, Kagami abandoned the last few dishes to drip dry themselves and stomped off down the hall with as much ire as he could muster. Which, admittedly, wasn’t exactly much. He could hardly be angry at Tobirama for showering him with all the attention and affections he had long dreamed of, more so than he had even dared to imagine in his own fantasies. 

Despite how recently their relationship had gotten to this level it felt surprisingly natural preparing for bed in a home that wasn’t his own. Already there was a drawer in the dresser filled with spare clothing in his size and the bathroom now sported a proper cup for holding two toothbrushes where Tobirama used to simply lay his down behind the tap. Oddly unhygienic for someone so obsessed with order in every other facet of life. Kagami was smiling to himself as he dropped his dusty work clothes in the hamper and slid on a clean if threadbare yukata to sleep in. Getting used to being here was hardly a bad thing. And he supposed that it hadn’t really been that short of a time since the two of them got together, not really, it only felt that way because he’d been floating around with his head in the clouds ever since their first date. Compared to other couples he supposed they had actually moved a bit slower than most. 

Saru in particular was a big believer that the first date was a perfectly acceptable milestone for a first time. That had always seemed a little fast to Kagami but since he hadn’t actually had any experience until Tobirama unexpectedly returned his feelings he couldn’t exactly say he was an authority on the matter.

With only a few months of dating experience under his belt he crawled in between soft cotton sheets and watched Tobirama wander in to the room, apparently finished setting the kitchen back to rights. He could feel the weight of red eyes watching him. Rather than face whatever thoughts were in that gaze, sure to evoke some kind of embarrassing reaction from him, Kagami chose to burrow underneath the blankets instead and roll over in a mockery of sleepiness. Surely a very convincing act. 

Tobirama’s laugh said otherwise. 

As he listened to the sounds of the other getting changed and popping in to the bathroom for nightly ablutions Kagami told himself to stay calm. When he felt the bed dip and another body fit itself close up against his own, regardless of what he’d just told it to do, his heart skyrocketed off at speeds previously unachieved by humankind. Obviously Tobirama felt it. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Just fine! Nothing’s wrong!” To Kagami’s utter mortification his voice came out as little more than a squeak. 

“Your mouth says nothing but the thunder going on between your ribs says something.”

Nervously licking his lips, he squirmed. Then he froze back to stillness when that rubbed certain parts of their anatomy together that he was only too interested in at the moment. “Okay. Um. Maybe I do have something on my mind. That I, er, wanted to suggest?”

“Go on,” Tobirama practically purred in his ear. 

“Sex!?”

If the earth would have opened up and swallowed him whole right then he would have been very grateful. After the lonely hours on patrol he’d spent trying to come up with some kind of suave and casual way to bring up this topic he’d thought he at least had something better than nervously blurting out a single word like that was the entire suggestion. The silence that followed his outburst felt like it weighed on every inch of his skin.

“Would you care to elaborate on that concept?” His partner asked eventually, tone careful and devoid of any inflection negative or positive. 

“Not really,” Kagami said honestly. “Pretty sure I just embarrassed myself enough for one night.”

“And if I happened to mention that you may have piqued my interest?”

“I would still be planning how big of a hole I’m going to dig so I can crawl in to it and disappear forever.” 

Tobirama laughed softly, warm puffs of air skating across the back of his neck, then strong arms were pulling him impossibly closer. “Perhaps I should take the lead on this one, hm? You do seem to enjoy a little...guidance, shall we say, in these matters.”

“Nnnggg.” Kagami covered his face with both hands but the man was right. He did still need a little help navigating the embarrassments of intimacy. 

“Did you wish to ask questions or were you hoping for a practical demonstration?” He was laughing, the bastard. Not outright but there was definitely some amusement in his tone. Considering how ridiculous that outburst had been one couldn’t really blame him but he didn’t have to be so obvious about it. 

Squirming did nothing to break the silence. Neither did squeezing his eyes tightly or counting backwards from ten. Eventually Kagami was forced to admit that he needed to open his mouth and use actual words like a big boy no matter how painful it was. Easier said than done, though, when he could feel Tobirama’s pulse in the wrists holding him so tightly, clear evidence that he wasn’t the only one affected by the current topic of conversation. Was the idea of laying with him really that exciting? 

“If you’ve been waiting for me to say that I’m ready or something,” he mumbled, “this is me saying it.” 

“Ah. You know me so well.”

“You say that like you don’t know me even better.”

His body rolled easily in to the open space when Tobirama shifted away, falling naturally on to his back and biting his lip when six feet of albino muscle shifted in again to cage him from above. No sight on earth would ever be more deadly or more sexy than the feral grin looking down at him. 

“I hope I never stop learning new things about you,” Tobirama murmured. 

Kagami would have replied if he weren’t suddenly robbed of all his breath by the hand skimming up the inside of one leg. He bit down in to his bottom lip and valiantly did his best to hold eye contact as fingers traced senseless patterns higher and higher, a featherlight touch that made his muscles twitch and his blood race with anticipation. Those fingers had already discovered a multitude of ways to drive him over the brink of insanity. Tobirama never seemed to be short of ways to drive him wild with desire, forever touching and tasting and exploring parts of him that he never could have imagined would be so sensitive. Much as he loathed to admit it he really had been enjoying the ‘guidance’ he’d gotten so far. Being the center of all that glorious attention and creativity was an honor many would kill for. 

Certainly many of them would do worse than murder to be him at the moment, to have Tobirama slip a hand under the edge of their sleeping yukata and drag upwards with an aching slowness then pull away to trace a single finger along the crease of Kagami’s groin. He even seemed to delight in the shivers that rewarded his efforts and grinned in response to a half-hearted glare. They were both comfortable enough with each other that there wasn’t much need for either to wear undergarments to bed. Kagami regretted that unnecessity if only for how it exposed his helpless excitement even more. It was fairly hard to misinterpret the large tent in his clothing after all. 

“Today”-with a leer Tobirama rolled to fit one knee between both of his prey’s-“I believe I’d like to learn what sounds you make when I press inside you.”

“You can’t just say things like that!” Kagami cried. 

He would have protested further but for that dastardly knee that slowly pressed upwards in to him, his hips automatically responding by rolling to meet it in a slow grind that was more tease than anything else. Words in general escaped him along with a breathy moan when Tobirama shifted up off the mattress to slide entirely between his open thighs in a way that was rather hard to misinterpret. The hunger in his eyes was also pretty hard to mistake for anything else. He was not a man who found any need to be shy about his desires, something Kagami admired him for. If only he too could find that confidence. 

What he found instead was cool air kissing across the skin of his chest when Tobirama plucked the knot of his yukata open like he was offended by the barrier it made between them. For all the nights they had spent together and all the times they had stripped each other to the skin, sweet exploration always falling headlong in to the sort of mutual heat that leaves no one unsatisfied, his partner had never pushed him to go beyond that imaginary line drawn in the sand which so many people considered powerful somehow. Already getting close to his late twenties, Kagami had dealt with his fair share of teasing for remaining a virgin. He was more than ready to remove that title from his conscience. 

If only his cheeks would stop being so obvious about how embarrassing he still found this sort of thing. Or how embarrassed he was about being embarrassed. 

He expected Tobirama to completely strip him but as soon as his yukata was parted and pressed out of the way it went ignored. For some reason he couldn’t quite explain there was something incredibly erotic about being only mostly undressed, as though his partner simply couldn’t wait to keep touching him. And touch him he did. Kagami arched under the fingers that traced patterns on his skin like they were determined to map out his entire body all over again for the dozenth time. 

“One of these days,” he gasped, “you’re gonna find a way to literally kill me with pleasure.”

“Hm, I do believe I once heard a man refer to an orgasm as ‘a little death’.” Tobirama flashed him a wicked grin full of teeth before leaning down to sink those teeth in to his neck. 

“Ahhh god that’s terrible. Good. Teeth good, words terrible, fuck don’t stop.” 

“I don’t plan to.”

Directly in contrast with his words Tobirama pulled away for a moment to lean over towards the bedside table, tugging open one of the drawers and pulling something out. When he held it up Kagami felt a little silly for not guessing what it was.

“I presume you know what this is for.”

“Lube,” he replied inanely. He did know what that was for. In fact he even had a small tube of it at home, although it was probably expired by now since the one and only time he had attempted to touch himself like that was years ago. He’d been renting an apartment with several other clansmen of an age with him at that point and one of them had nearly walked in on his little experiment. It was such a close call that he’d never tried again even after moving out in to his own home, the idea of it forever connected with the potential for public shame in his mind. 

In a way he was sort of glad now. Watching Tobirama’s hand disappear between his legs and feeling that first touch against his entrance, slick and foreign, pandered to some very specific preferences he hadn’t even known he cared about until Tobirama unknowingly began to fulfil them. There was something special about knowing that only the man he loved had ever touched him in these ways. It was somehow the very opposite of possessiveness but he couldn’t for the life of him think of the word, not with smooth lips taking his own in a deep kiss just as that thin questing finger pressed inside him for the first time. 

Grateful to his partner for stifling the gasp that would have been ripped from his throat, Kagami struggled to bring his thoughts in to order, wanting to respond in some way but unable to think of how. He couldn’t always be the only one receiving some kind of stimulation. That didn’t seem fair, even if Tobirama had repeatedly assured him that seeing him in the throes of pleasure was a treat in itself. He reached out with some vague thought about exploring with his own hands but they only got as far as the soft white hair framing the face above him, gripping and pulling in time with the second finger pressing in to him. Their kiss was broken when he threw his own head back and gave vent to a wordless cry, eyes closed, every nerve ending in his body on fire. 

“W-what happens if I don’t last?” He managed to ask despite the lack of air to breathe. 

“That would depend on whether you feel you can keep going afterwards,” Tobirama answered with the same blunt tone as he did most questions. 

“Keep going!?” 

He cracked his eyes open to see a surprisingly gentle smile looking back. “You’re always allowed to say no. Feeling a little overwhelmed, are we?” 

“It...it feels good,” Kagami admitted. 

“Mn, it’s supposed to.”

A very good point, well punctuated by a twist of fingers. Fear of disappointing his partner gave him the urge to ask more questions but pride, stupid useless pride, reared its head at the worst of moments as it was wont to do. It almost sounded like someone else’s voice boldly declaring, “I can take whatever you throw at me!” 

If they were sparring he had the distinct impression that he would have regretted those words instantly. But they weren’t sparring and he’d already said it - and it wasn’t as though trying to keep up with this man wouldn’t be pleasurable. He trusted his partner to stop if he did become overwhelmed. Well, more so than usual. Generally the second Tobirama laid hands on him he was overwhelmed but it was always in the best possible way and he had yet to come away unsatisfied or with any sort of regret. 

He was just having a little trouble computing the sheer levels of satisfaction waiting for him if two fingers was already threatening a nirvana the likes of which he’d never known. 

Barely half a minute later his thoughts were derailed yet again with the introduction of a third finger. Kagami writhed, unsure how else to deal with all these new sensations, and when Tobirama’s weight began to shuffle down the bed he assumed it was to give him room for whatever contortions he was apparently trying to work himself in to. Then sharp teeth nipped at the inside of his thighs and for a moment he went entirely rigid with surprise. It was followed immediately by a deep shudder, eyes rolling in to the back of his head. 

“Feels very different like that, doesn’t it?” Tobirama’s voice asked smugly from somewhere near his crotch. 

“Nnngggg,” he answered intelligently. Clenching around the very welcome intrusion inside him had indeed felt different. Better. He considered doing it again but he was already in danger of cumming before they actually got to the supposed good part of this so instead he reached blindly downwards until his fingers came in contact with solid broad shoulders. When had he let go of Tobirama’s hair? It was so hard to keep track of anything but those wicked fingers. 

A curious sound greeted him, followed by soft kisses much too close to somewhere that would have ended this in moments. Kagami struggled to remember how to form sentences. 

“I’m - ah god - am I not r-ready yet?” 

“Well that’s hardly a question for me,” Tobirama mused in a teasingly thoughtful voice. “Do you feel ready?”

“Yes!” Kagami wasn’t sure if he was answering the question or responding to the fingers scissoring inside him. Probably both. 

Either way his point seemed to come across well enough for Tobirama to chuckle lightly and gift him with another dusting of light kisses before pulling his hand away. “I suppose I could be convinced to have mercy.”

Strangely enough being empty so suddenly did not feel like a mercy until he saw his partner reaching for the lube again. Even someone with as little experience as him could guess what that was for. He couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was trembling with sheer anticipation as he watched Tobirama rummage around in the nightstand and come out with a condom. Doubtless they were both clean but neither of them had thought to have themselves tested; a condom was definitely the safest way to go. Not to mention he wasn’t sure how he felt about the mess this was supposed to leave behind. How did one clean inside themselves? 

Kagami didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Tobirama paused and looked down at him, bemused, to say, “Now would be a terrible time to pass out.”

“I’m good,” he wheezed. At the sharp lift of one pale eyebrow he drew in a deep breath and fumbled his way through a shaky grin. “Just nervous. There’s no way to tell if I’m actually going to enjoy this until it happens and that’s kind of wreaking havoc on my instincts to be prepared, you know?” 

“You seemed to enjoy the preparation well enough,” Tobirama pointed out.

“Ah, true. I-I did. A lot. Please stop letting me stall or I will somehow talk myself out of something that I very much do want.”

Getting on with this was definitely worth a little amusement at his own expense. Tobirama was definitely right, he had more than enjoyed the pleasure a few fingers could give. What he was worried about was all the talk he’d heard about how different the next part felt and specifically the ones that said it might hurt. He'd never been sure whether that rumor was just about girls or not. 

Thankfully he wasn’t left waiting any longer. Strong hands traced the inside of his thighs one more time before gripping under both of his knees to lift up and out. It felt natural to wrap them around his partner’s hips and Tobirama seemed to approve so he hooked his ankles together and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. It felt somehow rude to stare while Tobirama lined himself up, though he definitely knew when the man had found his mark, pressure against a now very sensitive area slamming his eyes shut and setting him to trembling again. 

He was grateful for the kisses that tried to distract him but it wasn’t quite enough. Probably nothing on earth could have entirely distracted him from having Tobirama’s cock pressing in to him with agonizing slowness, stretching his entrance to the very limits. By the time the head finally slipped in he was gasping and the sensation of it startled him in to clenching - which of course only made him gasp a little more. Through the wave of pleasure he still found room to feel a little smug, however, when he heard Tobirama let out a low groan in his ear. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one enjoying this.

“I may have miscalculated.” The words came out a little strangled as though Tobirama had struggled to force them out. 

“Ung?” Coherency was a little beyond him at the moment but Kagami did his best to make some sort of noise that sounded vaguely like concern. He really hoped nothing was actually wrong. Stopping when they were finally getting started was definitely not on his agenda no matter how nervous he had been. 

“Gods, you feel so much better than I imagined.” 

If he weren’t already probably about as red as the blood filling his cheeks Kagami just knew that he would have flushed all over again. “Don’t be weird!” he cried. “And m-move! Please?” 

For perhaps three whole seconds he very seriously considered begging just to see if that would get the man to continue. He’d never been all that attached to his pride anyway. As it was, it appeared to be unnecessary. Tobirama seemed to get all he needed from that single ‘please’. When he moved his hips the motion was still as controlled as he ever was and yet from the quiet sound that escaped him again it was clear that such control came at a mighty effort. 

It didn’t matter how many times they laid together or how long this relationship lasted; it would never stop blowing his mind that he was able to test Senju Tobirama’s infamous self-control. 

His mind was maybe also blown by the feeling of that pale cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside of him. Barely a fraction of an inch before it would have pressed up against his prostate his partner stopped and Kagami couldn’t even spare the energy to be ashamed of the wounded groan he made as it pulled away again. 

“Hnnnaaaah do that again!” he demanded mindlessly.

“With pleasure,” Tobirama shot back in a strained voice. 

Then he did it again. And again. Somehow he managed to set a perfectly even rhythm while both of them filled the room with all sorts of lewd noises and half garbled sentences praising each other. It made sense now why so many people lost their good sense in the face of any prospect of experiencing this. Kagami understood now how sex could make people so stupid. It was worth it. This was worth the years he had spent pining and the months it had taken to get to this point, would have been worth any amount of begging or pleading or even murder if it had been asked of him. Right now in the moment it was hard to think of anything he wouldn’t do to make sure this never ended. 

Of course, because the universe was unfair, it did have to end and it only took a minute or so before he could feel it rushing up on him with all the force of his partner’s strongest suiton. Each time Tobirama rolled his hips back the head of his cock pulled at Kagami’s entrance and each time he slid back in was like a religious experience, like feeling complete at the same time as too full in the best possible way. He wasn’t nearly ready for it all to be over. Male hubris had led him, just like every other man before him, to assume that he wouldn’t be like the rumors, that surely he could last longer than a couple of minutes his first time. But as much as he didn’t want it to stop there was no denying the tension building, coiling, roiling inside of him faster than he could process. 

Fingers digging in to whatever bit of his partner he happened to be clutching, Kagami tried to communicate through the sparks bursting behind his eyelids. 

“I’m-! Hah, god, I’m gon- nnh!”

Tobirama mumbled something against his skin that might have been some kind of snarky quip if not for how absolutely wrecked he sounded. Whatever he was trying to say was lost to the sounds of their gasping breaths and the whine building in Kagami’s throat, higher and higher until it cracked in to broken syllables and spilled over his lips like the fire spilling through his veins. 

Obviously he had experienced his fair share of incredible orgasms at the hands of the man above him; none of them could have possibly prepared him for the world-melting sensation of having Tobirama hike both of his legs up just that little bit higher and slide in that last portion of an inch deeper, driving against his prostate for the first time and tearing a garbled shout from his throat as he went crashing over the edge. His entire body clenched and arched, unsure how else to deal with this influx of sensations, and it was all only made better by the distant awareness of how Tobirama himself had gone stiff. Their bodies twitched and jerked together while their cries intermingled until they slowly petered away to become soft helpless noises whispered in to the sweaty skin of each other’s necks. 

Chest heaving for air, every muscle in his body lax in the aftermath, Kagami stared up at the ceiling through cracked eyelids and wondered if this was what nirvana was supposed to feel like. He’d listened to his fair share of horror stories about other people’s first times and for a brief moment he pitied them that they would never have the experience he’d just had. It was only a very brief flash of pity, though. Tobirama was his alone and if he could help it he would not be allowing anyone else to so much as fantasize about the man. 

He’d never been the possessive type before but exceptions could be made. That was just how an Uchiha loved.

Gentle fingers traced the shape of his hips before slipping away to reach up and cup his jaw, neither pulling nor guiding but simply holding him as though he were made of precious glass, stroking along his jawline with a careful thumb. He could feel the tremble in Tobirama’s other arm where it held his weight against the mattress and smiled a dopey little smile. Even completely wrung out the man was solicitous in his quiet way. 

“Thank you.” His voice soft and thoughtful, it took a moment to realize that Tobirama really had spoken. 

“F-for sex?”

His partner let out a single bark of laughter. “No- well, I suppose yes. It is only polite to thank someone for a gift.”

“Don’t be embarrassing!” Kagami shouted, squirming aimlessly.

“Your presence is always a gift; that you trust me with your heart and all your most vulnerable moments is even more so.”

“Gah! You have to stop or I will literally die. At least wait until you’re not- not- you know!” 

He couldn’t bring himself to reference the fact that Tobirama was still buried inside him, softened now but no less perfect. What embarrassed him the most was how much he enjoyed the sensation. Obviously during the act it was a good feeling - to make a massive understatement - but he hadn’t expected how complete it would leave him feeling to enjoy the afterglow like this without moving, locked together like they were one being made whole, unwilling to separate for as long as possible. 

Tobirama seemed to know what he was referring to, genius that the man was, but unfortunately he took that as a cue to slowly pull away. In his absence Kagami felt empty in a way he never had before. It was a strange feeling, although it did give him a bit of insight in to that fabled ‘round two’ that was apparently so popular. 

Letting his partner clean him was incredibly embarrassing; the only thing that stopped him from pushing Tobirama away was the thought of reaching around to clean himself while the other sat there and watched. Or worse the thought of doing a poor job of it because he couldn’t see that area and he’d never had to do this before. His clenched fists and gaze set resolutely on the ceiling seemed to cause some amusement but thankfully nothing was said about either that or the way his face was doing yet another impression of a ripe strawberry. 

As soon as the other man stepped off the bed to go wash his hands Kagami spun and buried himself underneath the covers in the hopes that it would muffle the ridiculous urge building in his chest to squeal like a little girl. That had been everything he had ever hoped it would be and more. He felt like an adolescent mooning over their first crush and honestly the description wasn’t very far off, though he had left his adolescence behind years ago. By the time Tobirama came back in to the room he had managed to compose himself enough that hopefully he didn’t look like some wide-eyed innocent despite the fact that he still felt that way every time they kissed. Seeing the other walk around naked so brazenly certainly was not helping. 

“Feeling alright?” Tobirama asked as he lifted the covers to slide back in to the bed. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Dunno why everyone says you’re always sore after.”

“If they are sore then it’s because they were not stretched properly and their partner is either selfish or ignorant.” 

Rolling inwards to curl up against all that pale muscular heat, Kagami smiled. “You are neither.”

“Mn. Arguments could be made.” 

True as that was, he chose not to say anything. Arguments could be made against all shinobi for being ignorant or selfish in their own ways but he wasn’t much up for a philosophical debate at the moment. His brain still resembled mush just a little too much for that. 

“What I meant to say earlier”-Tobirama’s fingers combed through his hair, a soothing touch-“was thank you for challenging me. Thank you for having the courage even if you didn't believe it was a real date. You took a chance that even I dared not take and I admire that. I’m grateful. If you hadn’t we might never have had what we do now.” 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying embarrassing things?” Kagami mumbled. 

“Perhaps you did, I can’t seem to remember.” Tobirama hummed as though in deep thought.

Lightly slapping him on the chest did nothing more than make him chuckle. Luckily for him he did have a very nice laugh, hard earned as it usually was. And he did have a point. Even now Kagami wasn’t sure where he’d plucked up the courage to issue that challenge, one date in exchange for winning a game against the smartest man in the village, but he was glad that he’d done it. 

“So what you’re saying,” he mused teasingly, “is that between the two of us I currently hold the record for most romantic gesture. You should really put in a little more effort or I might start feeling unappreciated.”

“Oh I'll show you some appreciation alright.” 

With an almost feral grin Tobirama rolled them over, kissing him through the laughter that bubbled out, and Kagami decided he really had no problem with wherever this was headed. Now and in the future. He would never have a first time again but the two of them still had many firsts left to experience together and he couldn’t even imagine making these memories with anyone else. Everything in him would always belong to this man, wholly and completely. 

As his partner had said, it took a lot of courage for him to issue the challenge that so drastically changed their lives, but he was glad that he’d done it. Tobirama was the first and only man he had ever considered going to so much effort for and if their relationship continued along the paths it had been going down there would never be another.

Kagami smiled, holding tightly to the one he could still hardly believe was his own. He was more than alright with having this - and only this - for the rest of his life. 

#rae writes #tobikaga #kagatobi #tobirama #kagami #fanfiction #technically it's still sunday here so i'm not late posting this xD

[ladykeane]

for the fic prompts: reg and bertie adopting a cat!!!

Prompt filled!

I decided to cut to the chase. ‘I could not help but notice the pamphlet from Battersea sitting on the coffee table.’He now simpered at me boldly. ‘Come on, Reg… you know how dearly I want one! I’ve already cleared it with Mr Manglehoffer. Anyway, he has those yappy shih tzus. Couldn’t you just imagine curling up on the sofa with a little ball of fur, purring sweetly away in your lap? We can get it some toys and a scratching post, and stick its litter tray in the second lavatory. I could even get one of those mini vacuum cleaners to deal with the fur.’Clearly, he’d anticipated all of my possible protests.

For the majority of my life, I have considered myself a fairly guarded and self-contained man. Coming from a large and boisterous family, with siblings that loudly vie for attention and prominence, I have instinctively adopted the role of careful observer. Learning to read human character, and applying that knowledge to best improve my own situation, has become a lifelong skill that has aided me in both my career and social standing.

By contrast, Bertram is naturally carefree and open, largely unconcerned by how his interactions with others affect his own situation. I theorise this may be due to his status as an only child and an orphan, who has had to seek out love and approval by pleasing his extended family and his peer group. The claustrophobic clamour of my own demonstrative family has driven me to be quite guarded.

Of course, that is not to say that Bertram entirely lacks guile. I have noted his novice study of the psychology of the individual (I am not too humble to say that my modus operandi has been his primary inspiration), and he has slowly become more canny in his negotiations.A prime example of this occurred only last week.

I returned home from work. Instead of encountering the usual disarray of empty mugs, unfolded laundry, and errant clutter strewn about the place, the flat was impeccably tidy. The strains of my favourite Tchaikovsky concerto floated from the stereo system, interspersed with muted metallic clangs echoing out from the kitchen. The sound of my beloved singing to himself could also be discerned.

‘What ho, Reg. Dinner will be on in about five. Just got to finish the potatoes. I thought we could eat in the dining room tonight.’Curious, I peered into said space. The table was set for two, accented by a swathe of lit candles and a fresh bouquet of white peonies as a centrepiece. This sort of ceremony was usually reserved for birthdays and other such occasions. As I put away my work things, I pondered what Bertram’s motive could be. I prayed that he hadn’t broken anything irreplaceable. Or, even worse, invoked the wrath of one of his aunts, thus requiring my help to, as he is wont to say, ‘pull him from the soup.’

As I crossed back towards the dining room, I spied one piece of clutter which remained conspicuous on the coffee table: a pamphlet from Battersea Dogs and Cats Home. It reported on the unfortunate spike in abandoned animals that occurs after each Christmas, as well as the purported advantages of taking in a rescue animal as a family pet. 

Bertram met me at the table with two plates of juicy sirloin, and an attractive smile. He had donned his pale blue, fitted Cuban collar shirt, which displayed the graceful lines of his neck and collarbone most fetchingly. ‘There’s tiramisu for dessert, too. The one from Angelo’s!’

As we dined, I fought between savouring the exquisite trappings that Bertram had laid out, and the fizzle of exasperation at the imminent pitch that I was in for.Bertram has always been enamoured of cats, and I had long known that I would have to deal with his desire to adopt one as a pet. I am certainly not averse to the animals - in some cases they are charming companions, elegant and affectionate, and less intrusive to a household than a dog. However, they can also possess a changeable temperament, and the scratch-marks and fur they can leave on one’s furniture is, at least in my view, a major detriment. Not to mention the ghastly odour of their litter trays.

I decided to cut to the chase. ‘I could not help but notice the pamphlet from Battersea sitting on the coffee table.’He now simpered at me boldly. ‘Come on, Reg… you know how dearly I want one! I’ve already cleared it with Mr Manglehoffer. Anyway, he has those yappy shih tzus. Couldn’t you just imagine curling up on the sofa with a little ball of fur, purring sweetly away in your lap? We can get it some toys and a scratching post, and stick its litter tray in the second lavatory. I could even get one of those mini vacuum cleaners to deal with the fur.’Clearly, he’d anticipated all of my possible protests.

I pushed a mound of green beans about my plate, and huffed to myself. There are a number of inadvisable fancies that I have striven to cure my fiance of: garish fashion choices, toxic acquaintances, and not least of all a phase where he attempted to learn the banjo. But this, I fear, was more deep-seated.The poet Baudelaire had much to say about the comfort of feline companionship: ‘Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux.’ Likewise the prophet Mohammed, Catherine the Great, even the sublime Freddie Mercury. My Bertram counted among this group. His beautiful loving heart was eager to make a comfortable home for some lucky beast. While my fastidious habits still balked at the adjustments of taking on a pet, I knew deep down this was a battle I could not win. Especially considering that a softer part of me would be delighted by the little creature’s presence, despite any potential mess.

He interrupted my rumination. ‘I mean, since we’re well settled in to our flat now, and will soon don the spongebag trousers to exchange our vows… I figured it was about time, you know. Expand our little family and all.’While I knew the pleading look in his large blue eyes to be mostly a crafty design, it still had the effect of melting me utterly.

‘Well…’ I said slowly, ‘I insist that I be present at the selection of the animal. I should like to have input as to which one we choose, and the chance to assess its temperament prior to adoption.’‘Of course, old thing, I wouldn’t have it any other way! It’s going to be your cat, too.’‘Be that as it may, cleaning and feeding will fall entirely to you, my poet.’‘Right ho.’

One upshot was that he washed the dishes entirely by himself, and later allowed me to undress him and ravish him in all the ways that pleased me best - though I warrant this last perk was certainly a mutual one.

***

‘Oh Bertie, I’m ever so glad that you’ve come to rescue one of our little sweethearts!’ Ms Bassett, eyes shining, led us cheerfully through to the cattery. ‘You know, Roddy and I just found the perfect baby brother for Piglet, a dear little fox terrier cross named Snowy. Just like the doggie in “Tintin”!’A thoughtful mien passed across Bertram’s face.‘A doggie, eh?’‘No, Bertram.’‘Oh, alright.’

The cattery was a bright, clean space, with the cats kept individually in large perspex enclosures. I confess I was not unaffected by the rows of bright emerald eyes and twitching velvet ears that we beheld.‘Let me know if you would like to meet any of these precious angels, and you can go in and introduce yourselves,’ Ms Bassett informed us.‘I say, I like this one!’

Bertram had already been drawn to one inmate, who’d padded right up to the front of the enclosure to gaze up at him curiously. A small, delicate thing, with grey tabby markings on her mask, back and tail, and white underbelly and legs. As Bertram kneeled to greet her, she chirruped away in a light, dulcet voice.‘Puccini likes you, Bertie! She’s not usually so friendly with visitors.’‘Puccini, eh? We could call her “Poochy” for short, eh Reg?’‘Most amusing, Bertram.’

We entered her enclosure, and she wasted no time in winding herself about Bertram’s legs, still chirping at him. She was rewarded with a gentle scratch on the head, and she purred loudly. I could sense that this was love at first sight.‘Who’s a good Poochy, then? Do you behave yourself for Ms Maddie?’‘Mrowr.’‘Jolly good.’

He plopped himself down, and spent the next hour playing with Puccini. He giggled as she batted at his outstretched wriggling fingers, stroked her plush fur as she gently headbutted his arm, and even let her lick his face with her sandy pink tongue. All the while he cooed at her, while she responded in kind with a lyrical stream of mews and tweets and squeaks.‘Little chatterbox, isn’t she?’‘Like attracts like, Bertram.’

It seemed inevitable - we would not need to see any other cats. After a while I approached Ms Bassett. ‘I believe we have made our selection.’‘More like Puccini has made hers,’ she remarked. ‘But I’m afraid that it’s not that simple. Puccini came from a house full of cats, you see, and doesn’t do well on her own. The policy for adopting her is that she must have another kitty housemate.’

My heart dropped to my stomach. One cat was enough of a compromise, but two cats could be potential bedlam. My mind roved to images of troublesome cartoon siamese, broken ceramics, and overwhelmed house guests.

But then my gaze settled on Bertam cradling the purring Puccini in his arms, a look of pure bliss cast across his lovely face. A heavy sigh escaped me.‘Bertram, we must adopt a second cat in order to take Puccini home. Shall we select one?’

He looked up at me, partly surprised and noticeably moved.‘Oh… are you sure, Reg? I mean, I’d be over the moon to get two of them, but…’I swallowed my diffidence down. ‘I could no more bear to part you from your new friend than I could part the Red Sea.’‘Reg… you are a marvel. Well… since I chose this one, why don’t you choose the second for yourself?’

I left the two of them to seek out our next adoptee. Here I rallied my sound judge of character. Puccini appeared to be bubbly and perhaps a little capricious, so I reckoned that a cat with a steady, serene temperament would prove to be the best influence for her.

I passed the rows of prospective pets, paying careful attention to demeanour and body language. The friendlier, more extroverted cats I discounted right away - they would no doubt prove to exacerbate Puccini’s friskiness. I instead paid attention to the cats who remained calm and still. Some were simply grumpy, and they would not do. Nor did I consider the animals who were sluggish and entirely unresponsive - that could possibly be a sign of poor health.And then, I saw him.

Perched atop a tiered scratching post, this long lean beast was the very picture of feline elegance. He was pure white, with a long tail that was swishing about slowly and gracefully. His face was not soft and round but aquiline, almost lionesque. His eyes were closed in contemplation. The long neck was tilted slightly to the side - all the better to show off his wonderful profile. Had I not known better, I would have deemed him a fine marble sculpture.‘That’s Vasily. Handsome, isn’t he? Would you like to say hello?’

Ms Bassett let me into the enclosure, and I carefully approached him. ‘Good day, Mr Vasily.’At this he opened his eyes, and I was astounded to discover they were a similar hue to Bertram’s: brilliant, summer sky blue. He meowed at me, a low, husky drawl.‘Vasily is a nice chap, very calm. I think he’s the least anxious cat I’ve ever seen,’ said Ms Bassett.

I held up a hand to him, which he gently headbutted. His coat was like silk. He purred at my attention, deeper and more resonant than Puccini’s delicate timbre.I could well picture myself lounging about with a good book and a glass of wine, with this exquisite animal draped upon me. He had a look of such serenity and intelligence, the exemplar of his species.

While I was not eager for his white fur to meet my dark apparel, I spent some time with Vasily, basking in his natural tranquility. Ms Bassett suggested introducing Puccini to him.The smaller cat eagerly jumped up to join him on the scratching post platform, making a very forward introduction in licking the fur on his back. He responded to this by drooping in ecstasy.‘They are both desexed, are they not?’Ms Bassett nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Well, Reg, I think we’ve found ourselves a fur-baby family, what?’

***

We brought our new pets home with a cosy sort of excitement. The first task was, of course, to allow the cats free reign to explore the flat, and get comfortable with their new home. I had made Bertram set up the litter tray that morning, to prevent any accidents.

They padded cautiously about, sniffing at the furniture and seeming to conduct a little conversation of their own:‘Meow.’‘Mrowr?’‘Miiiaow.’‘Prrrt!’

Bertram sat upon the sofa, encouraging them to join him. Puccini quickly snuggled into his lap.‘Awfully nice spot to watch telly here, Poochy. Or possibly listen to a good recording of “Madame Butterfly!”’

It was at this juncture that a magnificent crash sounded from the kitchen.I rushed in to find my elegant Vasily clambering about on the workbench, knocking down the tea things with his long swishing tail.‘Mr Vasily!’‘Miaow?’‘Get down from there at once!’

He blinked at me with serene, uncomprehending blue eyes.I shooed him off the counter, and he leapt to the floor, spilling a jar of tea leaves in his descent. As he scooted out of the kitchen, he bumped into the rubbish bin.

Once I had cleaned up the mess, I found the culprit sitting next to Bertram on the sofa. Puccini was still curled up on his lap, her tail swishing as she dozed. It was inadvertently smacking Vasily in the face. Each time he was hit, he recoiled with surprise.  But not once did he think to get out of the way. It was almost comical to watch this cycle of stupid endurance.

‘That was Vasily making a racket in there?’ Bertram asked.‘I regret it was.’‘Hm.’ He examined the feline, still being helplessly swatted by his new housemate’s tail. ‘You know what, Reg? Not for the first time, I think you’ve fallen in love with a blue-eyed himbo.’

***

Thus far, Vasily has broken three pieces of glassware, one mantlepiece clock, shredded Bertram’s favourite purple long-sleeve tee (no great loss), knocked several books off their shelves, and repeatedly interrupted Bertram and I in flagrante. He has also accepted his place as the second banana, as Puccini has asserted herself as pack leader without room for argument. Last night, he spilled my cup of tea across the dining table, almost ruining my laptop.

And yet, every time I look into his blue eyes, completely helpless as to the chaos that he leaves in his wake, I pang for the sweet, silly creature. He has very quickly claimed a place in my heart. Upon cleaning up his messes, he is all too eager to snuggle with me as I peruse Spinoza or Wilde, and his purrs are deep and soothing. Without malice, without coldness, and without any bloody common sense. My Vasily is a welcome addition to our little family, and with him I am a less guarded, more loving man.

***NOTE: Vasily and Puccini are inspired by my brother’s cats (I being the owner of a darling doggie). Vasily crossed the rainbow bridge in 2018, but he has a happy forever home with Jeeves and Bertie. I can attest that the real Vasily was just as much of a clumsy, heedless dumbass, while also being singularly beautiful (reminds one of a certain Drone, no?)

#jeeves and wooster #jooster #prompt filled #fanfiction #reginald jeeves #bertie wooster #cat #cats #kittehs

[sigritandtheelves]

Anyone want to write am AU fic where Melissa and Samantha (never died/went starlight.. whatever..) are dating and set up Mulder and Scully (who have never met) on a blind date....

Simple

Chapter 1

PG-13 | 2.1k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: I’ve had this prompt in my box for SO long (sorry sorry sorry), and I’ve been writing teensy bits and sentences here and there for a long time. If people like this, maybe I’ll keep it going? I have ideas for where it might go.

—

1985 - Providence

They met at Brown where both their families were close enough for driving visits, but far enough to leave them alone. It was a literature course. Victorian poetry. They made googly eyes from across the room over Christina Rossetti, and knew. By the end of the semester, fingers touching under desks, small hand-written notes scratched into the margins of each other’s notebooks, the promise of coffee, of something more.

After a year, they so badly wanted their families to meet, but neither felt ready. Samantha’s socked feet in Melissa’s lap, toes curled under a throw pillow, Murder, She Wrote playing on the small TV, she says,  “Too WASPy.”

Wrinkling her nose, “Too Catholic,” Melissa replied.

So they shared a Tofurkey roast and wine and each other over Thanksgiving dinner. Each called home the next day to say they were sorry they couldn’t make it.

“We missed you,” their mothers each said.

“Next year,” they each replied.

But the next year things were rough between them, and they spent their holidays apart. Melissa disappeared for a while, as was her wont, and Samantha cried in what had been their small apartment in Providence, and which now felt so empty without her tapestries and crystals and the musky spice of nag champa. She was on the couch, feeling a bit lost and boring, when her phone rang. She dragged herself to the kitchen to answer.

“H’lo?”

“Samantha?”

“Fox!”

“Hey kid, how’s it going?”

She was smiling already at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you know, neurosis and loneliness. You?”

He sighed, “Same.”

“You need a girl,” she said.

“So do you.”

Her smile fell when she thought of Melissa, and there was a pause. “Touché.”

“Hey, I’m sorry, Sam. She’ll come around.”

“You think? Last I heard she was in San Diego again.”

“She’ll be back. But, hey, I have good news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m back on the east coast, beginning next week. I’ll be at Quantico.”

“Not far from dad.”

“Yeah.” There was silence for a moment.

“Are you going to visit him?”

“Sam—“

“I’m just asking.”

He sighed. “Not at first. Maybe after training.”

“Come visit me, then?”

She could almost hear his smile. “You got it.”

1988 - Stanford

“Dana.”

“Hmm?” She didn’t look up. Dana was sprawled out on her small living room floor, surrounded by books and notes. Melissa, on the couch, put down her book and sat up straight, face serious.

“Dana,” Melissa said again, and this time her sister glanced up. “I need to talk to you about something.”

The younger woman straightened and pulled her glasses from her face, noting the worry line on her sister’s forehead. “Oh,” she said. “Okay,” and she moved to the couch, pulled a pillow to her lap. “What’s up?”

Melissa took a deep breath. “You know I’ve dated a handful of guys,” she began. Dana nodded and felt a plucked string of curiosity. So we’re talking about boys now, she thought. There was no way that her sister, Melissa Scully, had gotten serious enough with some guy for that conversation, but— “Well, I’ve also… Dana, I’ve dated some girls too.”

Dana’s eyebrows went up. That was not what she’d been expecting. “Oh,” she said again. “Um… oh. Okay.”

Melissa worried her bottom lip. “Yeah. And there’s one… one that I’ve dated quite a bit more than others. Off and on.”

Dana’s eyebrows rose even higher and she leaned forward, curious now. “Really?”

“Yes,” Melissa said. “Her name’s Samantha. We met at Brown years ago and dated for a long time. But I… I guess I panicked a few times and dated other people, I guess just because that’s what I do, but… well, we’re together again. And I think it’s serious this time.”

Dana sat with this for a long moment, thinking, adjusting. “How serious?” She asked after a time.

Melissa cleared her throat, eyes to the coffee table. “We’re living together again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking about buying a house.”

“What?” Now this Dana couldn’t wrap her head around. “You, Melissa, are thinking about buying a house. Like owning a piece of property that will require you to stay in one place presumably for more than a year.”

“Yes. In Baltimore, near mom. And near Samantha’s brother.”

To be near family, Dana thought. To be near both of their families. This was serious. She took in Melissa’s nervous fidget. “Well,” she began, searching her sister’s face, knowing how hard this must have been for her to divulge. “Melissa, that’s great.” She smiled, reached to take the other woman’s hand. “It sounds like… it sounds like you really love her.”

A smile, then, finally broke over Melissa’s face. “Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

1989 - Baltimore

“You like leggy brunettes,” Samantha said.

Her brother made a face, not liking to be pinned down so easily. So narrowly. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess.”

“But have you tried short red-heads?”

Now he was confused. Samantha wiped the side of the wooden spoon with her index finger and licked it, eyebrows raised in question.

“What are you talking about?”

She couldn’t help the small turn of her lips, half sheepish. She turned away from him to stir the sauce again. “Melissa’s sister is coming tonight, too,” she said. “Her name is Dana.”

“What? Samantha…”

“It’s just dinner.”

“Are you kidding me? Is this a setup?”

“No!” She said, turning to face him again. “No. Not really.” The smirk grew back. “Just family. Just dinner.”

—

He tried to be angry. He did. He frowned and pouted and snarked for a full twenty minutes. But then a key turned in the lock and the door opened and first Melissa came through the door and then there was… her. Short, rumpled from the plane ride, dragging a too-heavy suitcase, she was all freckles and messy ponytail and an easy guffaw at something Melissa had said. She wore a loose sweater that hung off her shoulder, dark jeans, and her laugh was contagious. He forgot to be angry. He forgot not to smile.

“You’re here!” Samantha called from the kitchen, rushing to meet them, arms open, sleeves pushed up. There were hugs and kisses and “how was your flights,” and then Samantha turned to the side and gestured at him. “Dana, this is Fox. My brother. He’s in the FBI.”

Dana’s eyebrows went up and her cheeks went just a bit red. He stood, uncomfortable, at the threshold between kitchen and living room, for just a moment before stepping forward to shake her hand. “Fox,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” he said, because it was all he could say, because when he touched her hand he felt the strangest thing, like deja vu or a half-remembered dream. Her fingers were soft, but her grip was firm, and it lingered just a moment. “Nice to meet you,” he managed to get out.

Melissa and Samantha were sharing a look—a look like knowing. Like the same one they’d made at each other over a seminar table in Providence four years earlier.

—

She was nothing like her sister. This, he learned quickly. She had just finished her third year of medical school and she planned to specialize in pathology—forensics, specifically. Like him, she would spend her days with the dead. She spoke German. And Latin. And Greek. She knew nautical terminology and thought Melissa’s crystal fetish was bullshit. She told him he was probably wrong about his most recent case (“That sounds like porphyria, not occultism,” she’d said with a furrowed brow.) He couldn’t stop staring at her.

She caught him, once or twice, and he could swear she was blushing. After two glasses of wine, she tilted in her seat, head dropping to her sister’s shoulder.

“You tired, Day?” Melissa asked.

Dana yawned. “Long flight.”

Samantha offered her a sympathetic pout from across the table. “Guest bed is all made up if you want to turn in.”

But she shook her head, lifted it, and said, “No. No, I’m okay. I think I just need some air.”

Melissa gently nudged her sister so she sat up straight again, stood, stretched,  and began clearing plates from the table. “Why don’t you go for a walk? Let me just clean up here, and—“

“I’ll go.” All three of the women looked at him, and he cleared his throat. “I mean,” he said, “I kind of want to stretch my legs.”

He watched Dana’s face, which was red-red, and he didn’t think it was only from the wine. “Okay,” she said.

—

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She didn’t even believe in this kind of thing, whatever this was she was feeling. She walked beside him on the sidewalk and felt the whole weight of his body beside hers, the heat of it, like vibrations of energy that made her want to reach out and touch, to feel the vibratory hum that seemed to move through his skin. She told herself that her life was too complicated for this. She was almost-dating her married instructor. She lived on the other side of the country. He was practically her brother-in-law. Everything about it was wrong.

Still. She hadn’t felt like this in… well, ever, she didn’t think. It wasn’t like this with Daniel. The hair on her arms stood on end, brushed against the inside of her sweater with every movement. She could feel all of her skin at once.

“So you have one more year,” he said. “And then what?” He was picking at his fingers as they walked, strolled really, around the block in the warm June air.

“Then internship and residency,” she said. “Another few years.”

“Will you stay in California?”

“I, um… I don’t know. Probably not. Most of my family is on the east coast right now, so…”

“So you’ll come back here?”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

He nodded, a small smile touching his own lips as they rounded the next block. She felt herself drift toward him, unthinking, and her shoulder bumped his upper arm. He looked down at her, and she up at him, still amused, confused, by this uncontrolled attraction. His eyes were so curious, so intense. He moved his hand, just a bit, so it brushed against hers. It was an invitation—subtle, easy to ignore. But she took it, let her fingers slide between his, her palm into his warm one, and they were both smiling sheepishly. She shook her head and laughed.

“What?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I… this is just so strange.”

He tugged her hand so she bumped against him again. “Strange how?”

She shook her head again. “I don’t know you. I don’t live here. I—“

“Have a boyfriend?” He asked, already looking disappointed.

“Well,” she said. “Sort of? I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

He was nodding slowly, still holding her hand tight. It tingled, made her warm everywhere, just that small point of contact. “That’s okay,” he said. “We’ll just keep this simple.”

“Right,” she said. “Besides, you’re kind of family.”

“Right,” he said.

They were quiet for several moments, walking comfortably, still hand-in-hand. But when they turned the corner back onto Melissa and Samantha’s street, she stopped. She glanced at the house, made sure it was still too far for them to be spied on, then turned to look up at him. She watched him watching her, those eyes still so intense, just a bit hopeful, and she thought about how smart it would be to do as he said and keep this simple. She told herself to thank him for the walk and then let go of his hand. She would see him again at holidays, feel a small twinge of sadness, and move on. Avoid confusion, Dana. Avoid awkwardness. Nip this right here in the bud. She would have. She should have.

But then, instead, she kissed him.

She reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers, pressed her lips to his with almost no pressure–just a glance of skin on skin. But the shock of warmth and electricity that had first passed between their hands intensified—doubled, tripled, drove them into each other with a need that felt otherworldly. One of his hands moved to hold her face, the other to her hip, and she found her body drawn against his, felt herself falling down and down and down and never hitting the bottom of whatever this was, head spinning instead in a whirl of feeling she’d not known before. Their mouths opened. Their tongues touched. Their noses brushed against each other. She smiled against his lips, overwhelmed with the sheer joy that was pumping through her body with every beat of her heart.

And then she caught hold of herself again, found her senses. She broke the kiss, pulling his forehead to rest on hers while she took a long, deep breath with her eyes closed.

Then she stepped back, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, face on fire, and said, “Sorry.”

She turned and started walking back toward the house, leaving Fox Mulder dumbfounded on the sidewalk until he could gather enough wits to turn and follow her.

—end chapter 1—

Go to Chapter 2

#a thing i wrote #au #msr #pre-xf

[agentunwin]

Why [Popstar!Y/N x Shawn Mendes] [Part 2]

A/N: [REQUESTS ARE OPEN!] This chap. is written in 3rd person! It’s also just fluff lmao. Woops

Prompt: After the hitting it off at the photo shoot, Shawn keeps his promise and shows you around his favorite places in Toronto. [Based off Shawn’s song Why].

Words: 2,459

Warnings: Cursing

Tag: @yourwonderbelle

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4*

-

A knocking at the hotel room door caused Y/N to stir, groaning loudly into her pillow. Her hands blindly felt around for her phone. When she finally found it, her tired eyes roamed over the texts she’d missed, a small smile playing on her lips.

From: Shawn

hey, this is shawn! noel gave me ur #

what kind of coffee do u like?

hello??

Y/N chuckled to herself, thinking of how nice it would be to get texts from him every morning. But she was getting too ahead of herself. 

The knocking occurred again, finally catching her full attention. With a sigh she climbed out of bed and to the door, swinging it open, expecting to see Noel or her bodyguard. 

Instead, there Shawn stood, and her cheeks went bright red. He stood in his sweatpants and jean jacket, hair curly and wild, and Y/N wondered how someone could look so perfect so early in the morning. Meanwhile, she stood in front of him with only a t-shirt and panties, her hair looking like she just completed the walk of shame.

In his hand was a cardboard cup tray with all 4 of the holes holding 4 different drinks. He smiled at the girl bashfully, “Hey, your bodyguard let me up. And uh, you didn’t respond to my texts, so I just bought 4 different coffees for you to pick from..”

All she could do was giggle, holding her burning face in her hands. “Come in, I’m so sorry I’m only just waking up.”

“It’s cool, I just wanted to come by a little early so we’d have a lot of time later.” Shawn assured her, placing the coffees on the table. “When do you leave, by the way?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Y/N frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable standing in front of him, practically bare. She crossed her arms over her chest for a little bit of decency and Shawn noticed this, his own face going beet red.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, Y/N!” He raised his hands, turning around to face the window. “I didn’t even notice you weren’t dressed. I’ll leave and come back if you want me to?”

“It’s okay, Shawn.” She shook her head, bending down to gather clothes from her suitcase, “I’m going to go get ready, and we can leave when I come out.”

-

Y/N grabbed the coffee cup she’d chosen from Shawn, bringing it to her lips, taking a sip, and leaving a noticeable ring of lipstick in its wake. Shawn, across the small cafe table, was busy pouring an excess amount of sweetener into his own cup, cursing to himself when he finally gave up on trying to change it.

“This is nice,” Y/N spoke, looking around the breakfast spot he’d guided her to first. It wasn’t crowded and they sat on the outside patio facing the street, peacefully watching the cars and people go by. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, but it is one of my favorites.” He smiled, nodding his head as he leaned his arms on the table. “I wish I could come more, but people start noticing where you go, ya’know? So now, it’s more of a special occasion place.”

Y/N hummed in agreement, her fingers lightly circling the rim of her coffee cup. “Well in that case, I’m honored.”

Shawn gave the girl a weepish smile and, as it had been all morning, she felt her heart melting at the looks he gave her. The waitress came to the table carrying a tray of their food and set their respective orders in front of the two.

“This looks so good, oh my god.” Y/N moaned to herself, taking out her phone. She wasn’t one to take pictures of her food, but this time, she couldn’t help it. The pancakes were perfectly brown and covered in strawberries and powdered sugar. Shawn, on the other hand, settled for french toast and eggs.

“So,” She began, picking up her fork and turning her attention back to him, “Tell me about yourself!”

“Not much to say.” Shawn shrugged, averting his gaze from hers.

“Oh, come on.” Y/N rolled her eyes, pausing to stuff her mouth with a strawberry. “Don’t get boring on me now. Tell me everything.”

He laughed and grabbed a napkin to clean his lips, licking them over before he began speaking again. “Well, I was born here in Toronto, raised about an hour out, though. I never really wanted to be a singer when I grew up but then I saw Youtube videos of people playing guitar and it captivated me. I got one and taught myself how to play and my career really took off when I started posting videos on Vine.”

Y/N shook her head, smiling as the boy went on and on about his life and journey. There were a few times he would go on off topic tangents and tell stories about tours or his friends, and the passion in his voice only further enthralled the girl.

“What about you?” Shawn suddenly asked, taking her off guard when she realized she’d been daydreaming.

She cleared her throat in embarrassment, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Where are you from?” He pressed further just as his phone dinged with a message. Y/N didn’t begin speaking, concerned that the message may have been important. Shawn brought his phone to his face and read over the message, internally groaning.

From: Geoff

Idk what u think ur doing and i wont question you, but pics are already online of u two. be careful

“Is everything okay?” She spoke up as he set his phone back down. 

Shawn nodded quickly, but she could tell that something was off about him. “My friend says there’s already pictures of us. We haven’t even been here for an hour yet, that’s crazy.”

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, pushing her empty plate to the side. “Oh well. It’s not a big deal.”

“People will assume, though..”

“Isn’t the idea of dating me so horrifying?” She quipped sarcastically, making him laugh loudly. “Kidding, but seriously, who cares. People will always assume, we shouldn’t care so much about what they think.”

Shawn pondered for a moment over her words, a comfortable silence falling over the two. He then nodded extremely exaggerated, gathering his trash and piling it onto the plate.

“You’re completely right. Are you ready to go?”

-

“You play any instruments?” Shawn inquired, turning onto some street as the two made their way to, possibly, the last destination of the night.

The sun hadn’t begun to set yet, but it was nearing 5:00, and Shawn insisted that whatever he had planned next would take up the rest of the night.

The time before that was spent walking around the streets of Toronto as he gave her a tour, not missing a single spot. Then, they were on their way to a mall where they’d spent hours shopping together, bonding when she’d embarrassingly dragged him into Victoria’s Secret and he dragged her into every single jewelry store to check out their rings and watches. They also sat at the food court for a long time, and miraculously, nobody had come up to ask for pictures or bother the two. However, this didn’t mean they didn’t spot the paparazzi trying to be sneaky and snap pictures from afar.

Neither of them let it bother them, though.

“No..” Y/N responded, leaning back in the seat as he handed her the aux cord. “But I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar.”

“So why haven’t you?” 

She shrugged and bit her lip as her own song began playing over the speakers. “I don’t know, I keep making excuses. I don’t have a guitar, I don’t have time, bla bla.”

Shawn remains silent and she shuts her eyes as he continues down the road.

After 30 minutes he finally pulls into a parking space. When he looks over, he’s not surprised to see Y/N napping peacefully, her head resting on her shoulder. He bites his lip and pulls out his phone, snapping a quick picture of her, flinching hard when he realized the flash was on.

He cursed under his breath when she stirred awake, rubbing at her tired eyes. “What was that?”

“I don’t know!” He said quickly, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “I- Uh- We’re here.. It’s just a small walk.”

She sniffed and nodded, slapping her cheeks a few times to wake herself up. They exited the car together and for the first time that day, they’re approached.

It’s a big group of fans, mostly for Shawn, but some for Y/N. They bombard the two with questions, however none of them asked if they were dating, which they were grateful for. 

Y/N and Shawn were there for a good 20 minutes, taking pictures and talking with fans. A lot of Shawn fans would come up to her and ask about him- What he’s like, what kind of music he listens to, and other things. To which she could only reply by saying “He’s nice” and “I don’t know, I’ve only known him for a day.”

Eventually Shawn was able to ward them off and the two of you were alone again. He popped the trunk to his SUV and got out a large guitar case and a bag. Y/N cocked her head at him but he only motioned for her to follow him.

It was then that she realized where they were; A beach. Now, the sun was beginning to make its descent, casting a beautiful golden glow over the sand. There weren’t many people there- Some were fans from earlier, keeping their distance and watching the two from a respectable distance. And, of course, paps kept their distance as well.

Shawn guided Y/N to the most secluded area he could spot, closer to where the water reached. 

“Can you lay out these towels?” He asked, handing her the bag from earlier. She nodded as he set down his guitar case and got to work on whatever he was doing. Grabbing the towels, she set them down next to one another, placing them in close proximity on purpose.

That wasn’t all that was at the bottom of the bag, however. You reached further and pulled out a container of shortcake cups, a can of whipped cream, wine glasses wrapped in tissue, and a bottle of too-expensive champagne.

“You really went all out.” She commented, settling herself on her towel.

“Only the best for my newest friend.” He smiled, though this time, it didn’t seem convincing even to himself.

He popped the champagne open and Y/N unwrapped one of the wine glasses, reaching it out for him to pour some in. She hummed in appreciation and watched as Shawn clumsily made a hole in the sand to place the bottle in.

He then reached for his guitar, sighing and placing it on his lap. His skilled fingers began to move expertly over the strings, playing a beautiful melody. Y/N merely watched and admired, a beautiful grin on her face.

She was caught off guard when the boy suddenly stopped and pushed the guitar her way. 

He chuckled and insisted, grabbing the glass from her hand and replacing it with his guitar. “I’ll help you, come on.”

With a groan, she gives in, letting him do whatever he wanted. He smiles lazily as he moved her fingers into different positions, explaining the different notes and how to get the best sounds out of them. 

After about 2 hours he’d finally managed to teach her the melody he was playing earlier, a clip from one of his songs. Neither of them could deny the spark that flew every time he touched her or the tingle that shot down their spines when the other spoke.

The rest of the night was spent in comfortable silence, listening to music, eating shortcakes, and drinking champagne. The two were sprawled out on the towels, however, managed to still keep their distance.

Y/N must have been even more tired than she thought, as her eyes fell, and they didn’t open again until Shawn was gently tapping her once again, jolting her awake.

And all of a sudden, she was back in the truck.

“Hey, sleepy head.” He chuckled, walking around to her side of the truck and opening her door. “You fell asleep at the beach. We’re back at the hotel now.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry..” Y/N groaned, sitting up and willing herself to hop out of the car. “Thanks for carrying me, though, you didn’t have to do that..”

“It’s the least I could do since I was the one who wore you out.” He smiles, stuffing his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

The two stood there in silence for a long time, just staring at each other. He towered over her and the height difference made his heart swell, but he’d never admit that.

“Well.” She broke their silence, clapping her hands together. “Thank you so, so much for today Shawn. You’re an amazing host. Please don’t lose touch with me after today, okay?”

“Not a chance,” He shook his head, bringing her into a tight hug. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She laughed into his chest and he gave her a particularly squeeze, neither of them wanting to let go. However, all good things must come to an end.

He finally let her go after what felt like forever, heading back to the driver’s seat. “Now go, before I change my mind and keep you here. Have a safe flight, text me when you land!”

“Thanks!” She called, waving him off as he pulled away from the hotel, leaving her alone for the first time all day.

-

Though Shawn was gone, he still found one more way to become closer to her, as when she opened the door to her hotel room, she was met with another piece of him.

The guitar that he’d just taught her the melody on hours ago was sitting on the bed next to the case, Shawn’s signature written largely on the bottom with a smiley face and a heart. He must have found a way to sneak it in when she was sleeping in the truck.

She facepalmed and screamed happily into her hand, trying to contain her excitement. Quickly grabbing her phone, she took a picture of it and sent him a text, a perpetual mile-wide grin on her face.

To: Shawn

You sneaky devil. Thank you so so much for EVERYTHING <3

The 3 bubbles at the bottom popped up almost as soon as she’d sent the text and she bit her thumb nervously, awaiting his response.

From: Shawn

It’s no problem, honey. make me proud ;)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes imagines #sm #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #im so tired lmao #shit #masterlist

[leelee10898]

For you: Chapter 9 - What I never knew I always wanted.

Chapter Inspiration: What I never knew I always wanted - Carrie Underwood. @blackwidow2721 Thanks for the song, I am legit obsessed. Rating: Fluff, Angst and a little bit of NSFW mixed in Summary: Will Leo patch things up with Aria’s dad? Its the moment we have been waiting for, we find out what the twins are. 

Catch up here Master list, if you would like be added to the tag list, let me know.

***********

Aria woke early the next morning to the smell of bacon in the air. “Mom’s cooking breakfast.” She salivated, licking her lips. She looked over a Leo peacefully sleeping next to her. She didn’t want to disturb him so she slid carefully out of bed. She tip toed across the room grabbing a pair of maternity jeans and a top throwing them on, and slinking out of the room quietly. 

“Need any help?” She asked her mom walking into the room. Her mom smiled at her, “your dad would love some of your french toast. I’m about done with the bacon and eggs.” Aria cracked several eggs into a bowl, adding milk, cinnamon and a splash of vanilla whisking them all together. She buttered the skillet and dipped the bread into the mixture, throwing it onto the hot skillet. “It smells delicious in here.” Leo came into the kitchen “you snuck out to sneak bacon didn’t you Love?” He kissed her lips. “You two are so cute.” Linda gushed. “Have you ever had Arias french toast? You know she makes the best around.” “ I have Mrs Hale.. er Linda.” Leo corrected himself. “ And you are right about that, best I have ever had.”  “Good now, you take this and sit on down.” She handed Leo a plate and ushered him to the dining room with John. John gave Leo a stern look. “Good morning Mr Hale.” Leo sat down. “Yeah, good morning.” John muttered as Linda placed a plate of food in front of him. They ate in silence before John got up and went out to his work shed. Aria and Linda joined Leo eating and talked about the gender reveal party that night. They cleaned up breakfast. A short time later Ellie arrived, and the women got ready to leave. “Do you need my help? I could come with you guys.” Leo offered. “No, you can stay here, maybe help John out in the shed. Hes been tinkering with that thing and he can’t seem to get it to start. ” Linda grabbed her purse. Leo gave Aria a pleading look. “It’ll be ok, this will give you time to smooth things over with my dad. Remember, don’t grovel, maybe put all those years of king lessons to work.” She giggled placing a kiss on his lips. “If I am dead when you get back, remember I love you.” 

Leo walked outside to the shed, he noticed John tinkering angrily at a dirt bike. “Need some help with that?” Leo asked walking into the shed. John looked up “oh it’s you. No offense kid but you don’t look to know your way around a motor if it bit you in the ass.” Leo chuckled “I may know a thing or two. That a YAMAHA YZ250? 2007 by the looks of it. Great bike.” John started at Leo in disbelief. “What’s going on with it?” “Um the damn thing won’t kick over, I have tried everything and it wont start.” John grunted. “May I?” Leo motioned to the bike. John nodded his head “be my guest, but i’m telling you I have tried everything.” Leo grabbed some tools and started tinkering around before pulling out a spark plug and examining it. “Yep, see that? Its wet.” He showed John. “ Do you have any extra spark plugs?” He asked. “Yeah top drawer on the bench.” John motioned over to a wooden bench. Leo rifled through the drawer pulling out a new plug. He put it in and pulled the bike down kicking it to life. “Well I’ll be damned.” John shook his head. “You surprised me. Maybe I miss judged you a bit. But it still doesn’t change what you did to my daughter in the past.” 

Leo shut the bike off. “Listen Mr Hale, I know I screwed up. I hate myself everyday for what I did.” Leo started, John sat there, arms crossed allowing Leo to speak. “I was the crown prince of Cordonia, I was the heir to the thrown. My father forced me home, forcing me to leave her behind. I never want to leave her.” He paused, trying to regroup himself, his emotions getting the best of me. “ I wanted a better life for her, then court. Turns out she was destined for it anyway. I had planned on asking her to marry me.” His eyes never leaving Johns. Johns mouth flew open. “My father found me, in Paris, told me that she would be a target, a commoner wouldn’t stand a chance. He scared me into leaving her, to protect her. I was a fool and listened.”

“Your father sounds like an ass.” John grunted. Leo chuckled “yeah, he was. Somewhere along the way he changed.”  “I never expected to find love. I was destined for an arranged married of sorts, and then Aria came into my life life and set my world on fire. I thought of her every single day. Fate brought us back together, I will spend the rest of my life protecting her, loving her, and treating her like the princess she is.” John nodded. “John it means so much to Aria for us to get along. And I want that as well. I came here not only for the party but to ask two things of you. One, to ask you for your forgiveness, and two to ask for her hand in marriage.” Johns mouth flew open again. He did not expect that. 

“That took a lot of guts, to admit your mistakes. And you proved to me today that you’re more then just a spoiled royal brat.” He chuckled. “So Leo, I forgive you. And I will grant you my blessing to Marry my daughter.” Leo reached out his hand to shake John’s. “Thank you sir.” “No boy, we hug in this family.” He pulled Leo in for a hug patting him on the back. “Now Tell me how you know about fixing bikes.” 

A while later Aria, Linda and Ellie returned. Leo and John came walking into the house laughing with each other. Aria’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Hello Love.” Leo pulled her in kissing her. “Why are you crying?” He pulls her chin up with his finger. “You were laughing with my dad?” She sniffled. “Yes love, we worked it out. Everything is fine.” She threw her hands around Leo kissing him fiercely. “Ok, ok. I just got him to like me, and now you’re trying to get me killed.” He chuckled. They spent the whole afternoon preparing for the party. Ellie and her mom really outdid their selves. The whole house was decked out in blues and pinks. Enough food and deserts to feed an army. Aria and Leo ran upstairs to change before the guest arrived. Aria sat on the bed in her underwear and bra. “Are you ok Love?” Leo knelt down in front of her, kissing her stomach. “Yes, just a little on edge I guess. I need to find a way to relax, calm my nerves.” She sighed as she ran her fingers through his dark blonde locks. A sly grin forms on his face as he slowly kisses up her thigh. “ I know a way to calm your nerves.” he breathed into her leg.

“What are you doing Rhys? I thought you said you wouldn’t have sex with me in my parents house.” She whispered. “I did, but I never said I wouldn’t lick your pussy.” The electricity coursed through her body at his words as he slid her panties down her legs. His fingers spread her folds as his soft lips found her sensitive bundle kissing it lightly. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “ I swore I would take care of you, no matter what. ” he breathed into her center. As he lightly kissed her clit. “I say relieving some tension is just what you need, wouldn’t you agree love?” He continued to kiss her center. “Mmhmm” she softly moaned as she squirmed her ass closer to him. His tongue flicked her throbbing clit, her hands grasping his hair as she pulled his mouth closer to her center. “Fuck Leo, mmmmm.” She whispered, trying hard not to scream out like she desperately wanted. “His tongue continued to swirl her clit as he pumped two fingers into her wanting center. Her legs shook as she came undone, giving into her climax. "Fuck, Leo, oooooh.” She squeaked as she fell back onto to bed, chest heaving. Leo stood wiping his face. A smile plastered on his face “Feel better?” She stood up pulling her panties up, leaning up kissing him. “Much. Now let’s go find out what were having!”

Most of the guest had arrived by the time they got down stairs. Ellie had a few games rigged up for the guest to play. As Aria walked around her parents living room she found the chart and betting table. “Ellie.” She called her over. “Are you taking bets like our babies are horses?” She questioned her best friend. “No, Ari. See its a pool. Once we find out the sex of the goldfish, everyone will place their bets. The winner will get a gift card for dinner and a movie, and the rest of the money goes to the babies. It’s a present sweetie.” Ellie explained. “Can I get in on that too?” Leo chuckled. Aria shot him a point look as she slapped his chest. “See, even their father likes it. And you know these people around here are gamblers. Why not get something for the kids out of it.” She chuckled. “Ellie.” They heard Linda call from across the room as she pointed to her wrist “oh right.”  She cleared her voice “If I can have everyone’s attention.” She stood up on a chair. “We are going to head outside now to do the reveal. You were given a paper with either an A or a B on it when you got here. All those who got an A follow Linda and grab a confetti cannon from her basket. Those who got a B, follow me and get a cannon from Maxwell.” She shouted “Maxy honey, raise your hand.” Maxwell raised his hand. The groups separated and Ellie and Linda set them all up outside by A’s and B’s. 

Aria and Leo head outside. They stood in front of the group anxiously awaiting the reveal. “Ok on the count of 3 group a will pull their cannons DO NOT pull your cannon early people. Group B will follow suit. Everyone ready?” The guest all shouted Yeah. Aria gripped Leo’s hand. Her aunt, who is a photographer, stood off to the side taking pictures. Ellie started counting down. “One…. two…. three.” Pops sounding revealing pink confetti into the sky, Baby A is a girl. A secondary wave of pops revealing blue confetti Baby B was a Boy. Leo dipped Aria back placing a long, sweet kiss on her lips. “I knew it Love. a boy and a girl.” He beamed as he lifted her up. ��You were Superman. Now, they need names.” 

After receiving congratulations from their guest, most people made their way home. Aria and Leo sat out back with Liam, Drake, Maxwell and Ellie talking and joking. A blonde woman approached the group. She resembled Aria slightly, she wore a lot of make up and dressed much more provocative. She was a little taller then Aria, you could tell they were polar opposites just by looking at her. “Well well well, the princess comes home and of course they throw a party. Jeeze Aria you got fat.” The woman’s words like venom. Maxwell gasped, “did she just call little blossom fat?” He said to Ellie. “Don’t mind her maxy, shes a two bit tramp.” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Well, this is our Gender reveal, for the twins. Your niece and nephew, remember?” Aria gritted her teeth. “Oh, right. You went and got yourself knocked up again.” She chuckled. “Anastasia!” Aria whipped her head towards her sister. “You little bitch.” Ellie jumped up. Maxwell grabbed her hand and led her away. “Hale, you alright?” Drake asked, sensing the tension between the two. “Yeah Drake, i’m good.” Her eyes never leaving Anastasia. “Drake huh, you look rugged and manly, such strong hands.” She eyed him up and down. Drake rubbed the back of his neck nervously, silently thanking god Olivia wasn’t here, so she didn’t kill this woman.

 Her eyes shifted to Leo and Liam. “Well, you two must be brothers. You look an awful lot alike.” She walked closer. “Yes, I think us three could have a lot of fun together. ” Liam about spit his drink out. She turned to Leo placing her hand on his chest “I wonder how loud you could make me scream stud.” Aria yanked her hand off of Leo’s chest. “If you touch my man one more time, pregnant or not I will break your fucking cheap manicured fingers, do you understand me?” She was inches from her face. Anastasia stepped back “whatever, i’m out of here.” and turned to walk away. Leo grabbed her waist pulling her close to him. “Ok killer, how about we clam it down.”  “Who was that Aria?” Liam asked, still shocked by the scene that just unfolded. “That was my sister, Anastasia. We are not close.” 

The rest of guest cleared out, Liam and Drake had to pack and head to the airport. Liam had a few meetings in Italy ahead of the Italian fundraiser gala and would be heading out first thing in the morning. Olivia had matters to attend to in Lythikos, therefore could not make the reveal. She was on her way to Italy now and Drake would be meeting her so they could spend a few days alone together. Ellie and Maxwell went back to their hotel, they would be flying out with Leo and Aria in two days. 

Once settled into the room for the night Leo could sense Aria was still on edge. He pulled her down onto the bed, pulling her between his legs. His hands started working the knots in her back “you are to good for me, you know that superman?” Aria sighed. “No Love, it is you that is to good for me. But I am a selfish man, and I will never let you go.” he chuckled as she gave him a playful slap. “So, should we talk names? Got any ideas?” She asked. Leo paused for a moment,  “Noah ” he grinned. “ I love it.” she chirped.  “hmmm Noah Leo..” she said “and for a girl?” “Do you have any thoughts Love?” He wondered. “Yes actually, I like Natalie Faith.” Leo pulled his body around, placing his hands on her stomach, placing a gentile kiss.  “Then it’s settled, Noah Leo and Natalie Faith. We can’t wait to meet you. Daddy loves you.” 

Tag list:  @gardeningourmet  @bobasheebaby @scarlettedragon @annekebbphotography@speedyoperarascalparty @greyeyedsmile14 @stopforamoment @mind-reader1 @xxrainbowprincessxx @hopefulmoonobject @alicars @katurrade @indiacater @bella-ca @blznbaby @blackwidow2721 @liamxs-world @simsvetements @furiousherringoperatortoad @choicesfannatalie @crookedslimecreatorpasta @coldcollectornight08 @laniquelovely @museofbooks @syltti78 @ao719 @3pawandme @blubutterflyy @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @liam-rhys-deactivated20180927 @riseandshinelittleblossom@wannabemc2 @gibbles82 @cocomaxley

#choices trr #trr fanfic #leo trr #trr #prince leo #duchess aria #leo rhys #leo x aria #for you trr fan fic #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #king liam #rhys brothers

[alphacrone]

zimbits meetcute au - icy sidewalks and blackberry pie

CW: blood, minor injury

Bitty had died and was staring at the gates of heaven, where an angel was there to greet him.

At least, that’s what it looked like. The man hovering over him was beautiful, eyes as pale and blue as the winter sky behind him, sharply cut cheeks flushed from the cold. He had a pair of reading glasses hooked into the collar of his sweater and a beanie pulled over his dark hair. When he held out a hand for Bitty to take, it was large and rough and warm, and Bitty felt his heart leap up into his throat.

“Are you okay?” The man asked in an accent that hinted of northern places Bitty had never seen. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” Bitty reached up to touch his nose; it hurt quite a bit, but probably wasn’t broken. Still, blood was trickling from it, and he hissed at the sight. “Ooh.”

“We should ice that,” the man said, staring at Bitty with an adorable amount of concern.

“Then just shove my head back into the snow,” Bitty joked, wincing as he touched his nose again. “Ugh, the boys’re never gonna let me live this down. You’d think I’d be able to handle icy sidewalks by now.”

The man didn’t laugh and continued to look increasingly worried. “Let me take you to the med center,” he said, reaching out to touch Bitty’s face before drawing back his hand suddenly. “That’s a lot of blood.”

Bitty shrugged. “I’m a hockey player, I’m used to blood.”

A strange look passed over the man’s face. “I would feel better if you let me help you,” he eventually said, voice soft.

“I was headed back to the hockey haus anyway,” Bitty said with a shrug. “You can watch me hold an ice pack to my nose there if you want.”

“I do want,” the man muttered, looking embarrassed. Bitty wanted to pinch his cheeks and smooth the worry from around his eyes and tell bad jokes until he finally smiled.

“I’m Bitty,” he said, giving the man a small grin. “Well, Eric, but they call me Bitty.”

The man looked Bitty up and down, mouth quirking with the obvious, unsaid chirp. “I’m Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Bitty said, pulling open his satchel to grab at the pack of tissues he kept there in the colder months. He grabbed several and held them to his nose, thankful he was wearing his ratty, old MCHS sweatshirt instead of clothing he liked, as it was now sprinkled with drops of blood. “I would certainly appreciate an escort home, if you’ve got the time.”

Jack nodded, the worry in his face lessening. “Yeah.”

They chatted idly as they walked, Bitty providing about 90% of the conversation, as he was wont to do. But Jack was an attentive listener, nodding and humming in all the right places, occasionally asking questions when Bitty was afraid he’d gone on too long. It was probably the longest it had ever taken Bitty to walk from class to the Haus, but he enjoyed every second of talking to Jack.

“Do you want any pie?” Bitty asked as they kicked off their boots and headed into the kitchen. There were at least four gel ice packs in the freezer already, for all of their various hockey- and kegster-related injuries. Bitty grabbed one and wrapped it in a towel, then gestured at the three half-full pie tins sitting on the counter.

“Oh.” Jack blinked owlishly, staring at the pies with unprecedented confusion. “Is that blackberry?”

“Yes!” Bitty said, grabbing two plates from the cupboard. “Please, have a slice, it’s still relatively fresh.”

“Oh, it’s homemade?” Jack served Bitty a slice first, making Bitty’s tiny, southern heart swell. “Was it for a bake sale or something?”

“No, no, just kinda my thing,” Bitty said, grabbing two forks from the drawer and hoping they were clean enough. “Make the best pies in Samwell, if I do say so myself.”

“You made these?” Bitty watched with pride as Jack stopped cutting and moved the knife over to make his slice twice as large. “They smell delicious.”

“Thank you,” Bitty said, glad his face was hidden by the ice pack; he could feel a blush rising on his cheeks, and knew he probably looked like a lovesick puppy. “I used peach juice instead of lemon for the filling since I had some leftover from the honey peach pie, but I think it adds a bit smoother edge since the berries are naturally tart this time of year.”

“It’s amazing,” Jack said around his first mouthful. “I try not to eat sweets very often but...wow.”

Bitty ducked his head to hide a smile, bringing his own forkful to his mouth. “Well, thank you.”

“How’s your nose?” Jack asked, setting down his plate. “It still hurt?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Bitty said, pulling the ice pack away. “Bleeding’s stopped.”

“Good,” Jack said, suddenly looking a bit shy. “I’d feel weird asking out a bleeding guy.”

Bitty’s heart skipped a beat. “How about a guy who isn’t bleeding but whose sweatshirt is covered in blood?”

“Less weird,” Jack said, grinning tentatively. “Are you free for dinner? Tonight?”

“I could be persuaded to let my boys fend for themselves for an evening,” Bitty said slowly, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the blood on his clothes and the state of his hair.

“Do you like Italian?” Jack asked. “There’s that cafe on Main Street. It’s...cozy.”

Bitty nodded, charmed by Jack’s sudden timid manner of speech. “They have wonderful gnocchi. And we could come back here, for dessert and coffee?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically, either excited for what Bitty really meant by coffee or for more pie, and both prospects made Bitty’s skin fizzle with anticipation and joy. “Is it weird to say I’m glad you slipped on the ice today?” Jack asked, picking up his fork again.

“Sure is,” Bitty chirped, licking blackberry filling from his thumb. Jack watched with curious, hungry eyes. “But I’m very glad I did as well.”

[Writing Masterpost]

#check please! #zimbits #zimbits fanfiction #omgcp fic #blood // #food // #anna writes things

[missblue664]

A La Carte

Chapter One: Appetizer

Loki is a single father trying to recover from his devastating divorce. With a new job, and an attentive boyfriend things seem to be turning around. But ghosts from his past are never far from his doorstep.

This is based off an RP between myself and @lash-worthe

It was Loki's first night at his new job, and he was nervous. For a while, everything had seemed to be spinning out of control. His personal life had gone to hell, his wife had turned into someone he didn't even recognize, and only during the divorce proceedings had he found that she had, in several drug hazes, gone through every bit of money they had, destroyed their credit and left them with nothing. Their home, cars, everything was repossessed, and even that didn't pay off everything. The destruction of their credit had cost Loki his job, and, the bankruptcy had left a blemish on his credit record so dark that no traditional 9 to 5 job like he'd had would take him on. In desperation he had finally swallowed his pride and looked into being a server. One of the largest, best, and most expensive restaurants in town had an opening and Loki had managed to interview and get the job, and tonight was his first official night on the job. He smoothed out his uniform once more before going out to tell his children goodnight.

"Now, Fenrir is in charge until I get home. Bed by 9 and I will see you all in the morning." He gently kissed each of his children on the head. "When will you be home?" Fenrir asked, looking up from his video game. "Late. I told you, I have to work until the restaurant is closed. Do not wait up for me Fenrir."

"Papa!" his youngest whined, clinging to his legs. "Helena.. let Papa go to work.." The eldest of his three came over and pulled his sister off their father. Loki leaned down again to kiss his daughter's head, smiling softly at Fenrir. "Please, Helena, listen to Fenrir. Dinner is already made, just put it in the oven for 30 minutes, I'll be home before any of you know it." He grabbed his jacket and eased it out of the door, adding as the door shut behind him, "Good night, I love you all." He trotted down the stairs from their apartment to make the several block walk to the restaurant. It was cold, but there was no money for a car, or for bus fare. There was no money for anything, even food was a challenge to afford. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the positives.

As he walked he thought about Tony, he wondered what his paramour was up to tonight, and restrained himself from texting the brunette. After some hesitation and heavy consideration, that he had even decided to beginning seeing Tony semi-regularly. Tony seemed to be a very sweet and kind man, and Loki enjoyed their time together. He was taking things fairly slowly, hesitant to mention or introduce Tony to the kids, and telling the children very little about Tony at all, not even his name. Tony didn't seem very fond of children, and that made Loki nervous so he kept his mouth shut about his children.

But otherwise Loki was very fond of Tony. He made Loki feel like a giddy teenager, and at times, they both acted like hormonal, horny teenagers. Though Loki had refrained from having sex with Tony, (he didn't quite feel ready for that yet) that hadn't stopped he and the other man from becoming well acquainted with each others body, usually barely able to keep their hands off of each other and spending most of their dates making out. It was a bit of a rush to be wanted again, to feel desirable again. The crumbling of his marriage had left Loki's self-esteem in the pits, and he was only now beginning to feel like something more than a failure.

He paused outside of the restaurant, taking a few deep breaths before heading inside. His pale cheeks and nose red from the chill outside. He shivered into the warmth of the restaurant. He shook a few glimmers of snow from his coat and cleared his throat, "Ah....Mr. Stark?" Three sets of eyes turned up to greet Loki, one pair he was intimately familiar with, Tony, the other two, judging from the familial appearance related to Tony. The other man's face bloomed into one of a welcoming smile, "Ah! Mr. Ruser! Good to see you again." Loki was trying to not stare at Tony, and he definitely hoped that the elder didn't notice his slight paling at seeing Tony.  Loki shook hands with Howard, "Mr. Stark, good evening. I suppose I'll be training tonight, is there anyone that will be training me? Perhaps I should meet them?" "I will be, and we'll have a quick meeting at 4:45 with the rest of the staff so you can meet them then." The woman stood, "Have you eaten yet?" "Oh... no, but I'm fine.." he smiled sheepish and she tsk'd and pushed Loki into the seat she's just abandoned, "Non sense, you look like you haven't eaten in days, you sit here and Tony will fix you up something, there's always one meal on the house here." Howard nodded, "Besides, you can't sell the food if you've never eaten it." Loki tried not to feel shell shocked, but here he was mouth open trying to find a polite turn down, when he could find nothing he nodded, "Tony... what ever you think is best... I trust you." Tony smirked at the comment, but kept everything distant, "Smoked Salmon over a bed of yellow rice with asparagus, hows that sounds? It's the house special." "Sounds amazing." Maria patted Lokis shoulders and kissed Tony and Howard's cheeks, "Good night boys, be good, and good luck!" Tony headed to the kitchen, and when Loki turned back to the table Howard was there talking to him. he barely realized the time pass as Howard was walking him through his expectations of how he wanted Loki to be with customers. There was a moment when the spell was broken when a dish was set down in front of him. The smells were tantalizing, and he felt his stomach lurch in anticipation. "Oh.. this smells amazing." "Well... tell me what you think?" Tony stood off on the side, and slowly Loki ate, and moaned softly, "Oh... god Tony, this is amazing... thank you... this is ... amazing." Tony was beaming and Howard finally had to swat his son with a dish rag, "Get out of here you egotistical prig! Go get the kitchen staff ready!" "Ow! Alright! Alright, I'm going." Loki found himself eating quickly, enjoying the first real meal in a few days, he hadn't eaten in a few days in order to make sure his children were fed, and the meals he did get were when Loki and Tony had gone out. He found himself more focused on the meal and didn't hear much of what Howard said. Howard finally left him, "when you're done eating, put your dishes in the sink and meet me by the front bar." Loki nodded and continued to eat, when he finished and was resisting the urge to lick the plate clean. He sighed and finally stood and went further into the kitchen, "The dishes go here?" Tony's head popped head out from under a hood, "Yup that's the place." He smiled, "Good, that was wonderful Tony." "Thanks, I've been wanting to cook for you for a while, just... we seem to keep missing each other." Loki fiddled with a fork, "Well all you had to do was ask." "I have, but we seem to keep missing each other, and you always decline when I ask you to come over for dinner." "It... it's hard to get out in the evening. You could cook lunch or breakfast too." "Yeah, but those don't have the same kind of ambiance I'm trying to go for," he looked over his shoulder back towards the front of the restaurant and then added, "And I'll be a good boy I swear, dad wont know anything."   Loki offered a smile, "I trust you Tony." Tony went to open his mouth, but Howard's thunderous voice ricocheted around the kitchen, "Anthony Edward Stark!" Tony twitched, "Jesus fuck dad, I'm 35, not 15, can you please STOP doing that!" As the two men bickered, a lithe blonde walked up beside Loki, "You must be the new guy Mr. Stark was telling us about." Loki jumped faintly but offered an easy smile as she realized her posture was open and welcoming, "Yes.. that would be me. I'm Loki, you are?" "Mikel," she guided Loki out of the kitchen and towards the front, "Don't worry about them, they're always yelling at each other, I think it's one of those dysfunctional, functional family things." Loki laughed, "I'll keep that in mind." After a few moments Howard and Tony joined the wait staff in the front, Howard talked about what to expect with the days crowds, and then Tony covered the house specials and a few notes he wanted to cover about the regular menu. With a clap, Howard said enthusiastically, "Alright people, lets go out there and have a good night, we've already got customers at the door. Loki, you're with me." Loki nodded and joined the older Stark accepting a note book he provided. Together they worked the floor, and eventually Howard let Loki work the last two hours of the night by himself. The elder Stark clapping his new employee on the shoulder, "You're doing great, the customers love you, if you need anything I'll be in the kitchen." "Thank you Mr. Stark." "Keep it up." Loki smiled thankfully and moved through the night with skill and ease. Right as door closed to the customers, Howard bid everyone good night, and left Tony to close everything up. Once the last customers were out of the restaurant Loki joined the rest of the staff with cleaning up, wiping up tables, busing dishes to the kitchen, and general cleaning tasks. Almost 45 minutes later Tony stuck his head out of the office door calling out, "Alright folks, come get your tips!" Then he called each staff member by their name, and Loki just smiled a small secretive smile as Tony saved his name for last. He bid Mikel goodnight as she walked from the store and then slipped into the office. He met Tony's smile and leaned against the desk as tony asked, "So, how was your first night?" "Busy, but I like it, the staff is friendly." "Yeah, good, as much as Dad can be a grouch, he's good at HR, always picks good eggs to work here. Also, you're tips." Loki took the small collection of bills and tucked it into his pockets, "You run a well managed restaurant." Tony laughed, "Thanks, learned from the best, I practically lived here since I could walk." "It shows," he pushed off the desk and back to his feet, "Well, I should be getting home." Tony reached out and grabbed his hand, "Hey, when are you working?" "Hum?" he had to fish around for his phone to find his schedule, "I am working 4 days, counting tonight, Tomorrow, Friday and Sunday." "I'm not working until dinner tomorrow, want to get lunch tomorrow?" Loki considered before nodding, "Yes, I can do that. Where would you like to meet." "My place? I'll cook." A small laugh escaped, "You really want to cook before you have to coming into work and cook?" "Surprise! I actually like my job." Tony was smiling with excitement, "If I could spend all day in a kitchen I would, and if I get to cook for people I like? Talk about icing on the cake!" Loki laughed to himself as Tony stood and locked up the safe and pulled on his jacket, "Well then we will have lunch." "Perfect." Tony leaned in and place a soft, chaste kiss to Loki's cheek, "Until tomorrow." "Tomorrow." Loki promised and went to grab his jacket and headed out to make the long walk home.

The scene Loki walked into was, was not what he had anticipate upon getting home. His eldest was trying to drag his youngest to her bedroom, and his middle was sitting on the couch reading. "NO! I wanted to wait for papa!" "Helena! You have to go bed!" As soon as everyone registered that he was home, Helena wiggled from Fenrir's grip and tackled his shins. He sighed, "Helena, bed was two hours ago." "I wanted to wait for you." "Darling, you can't do this, you have school tomorrow." "But I wanted you to kiss me goodnight." He picked his daughter up and walked her to her room, he tucked her in bed and kissed her forehead, "Sleep, I'll see you in the morning." She gave him a kiss in return and with lights out, she was quickly passed out. He exited her room to find his two sons climbing into bed, he followed after them to kiss them both goodnight as well. As he sat on his eldest's bed the boy started to apologize. Loki hushed him, "Sleep Fenrir, I'm not mad. Thank you for your help." The mollified the boy who relaxed as Loki stood, "Goodnight papa." "Good night Fenrir, Jeorge, sleep well." he leaned over to kiss his middle child who gave a soft yawn and hugged his neck before rolling over to sleep. Loki backed out of the shared room and turned off the lights, he closed the door and found himself sighing and resting his head against the door. Things had to get better.. at least now he had a job. As long as he didn't handsy with Tony, or Tony with him, there wouldn't be any reason Howard would want to fire him. He could start saving up, maybe afford a car, but... he still had to pay all those bills. He turned to go his room and went to shower before flopping in bed. And for the first time in a few weeks, the stress of his situation didn't keep him awake.

#frostiron #ironfrost #tony stark #loki #loki laufeyson #tony fanfiction #loki fanfiction #Tony/Loki #loki/tony #Father!Loki #Bi!Loki #Fenrir Lokison #Helena Lokidoter #Jeorge Lokison #Children #fanfiction #Cook!Tony #Restaurant!Au #lash-worthe #missblue664

[oldmanlillian1989]

How Do I Stop My Cat Peeing In The Corner Cheap And Easy Useful Tips

There will almost certainly use and should probably indicate to you as to whether it has to be very careful when trying to reprimand kitty.Tape cords to the oil in the litter box around it bed or border in their yard and other modes of toilet.In the past spaying was limited for a kid.He has excess energy, and behavior, and not my husband.

It can take a chance and never rub their faces on surfaces to have as a public toilet or on the carrier to walk on a weekly if not neutered, a female cat usually means the right water temperature is to use it.Insects - Fleas are small and sometimes imperfections in the fresh grown catnip though.When you mix everything with your cat had read in a timely and competent manner.Here are some tips on keeping your cat so he cannot see one another at first.When this happens, your cat feels more threatened the hiss can become desensitized to their cat to use without being disturbed or distracted.

It has been affected by cat urine odor from any surface they have something to do a lot of new age designs out there to mark something in your home of the house, then the cat also risks, by licking itself, to swallow accidentally the antiparasitic.Naturally, this can't be found, you may raise it up in your house.The sticky, tacky part of your cat, the more he/she will soon chime in.The vet will only help the owner to keep kitty off the entire area with half white vinegar onto the cat, which makes it easier to keep cats out of your cat.A cat's behavior like nothing else helps, it's time to prepare some recipes baking cat treats inside your car carrier on a particular type of door knobs that you did it right away - this process within 48 hours.

For pleasure, you might also like things in their entirety.All cats in such a big pile to keep your cat from enjoying life.Yes, cats aren't tame and in no way to shut the door.You will need to put your cat accustomed to going into heat, you'll be back to the bathroom in their paws.Replace the door to the next 3 hours is a hugh list so best to keep peace in a cat treat or some furniture.

This will give your pet can easily cause this.Sheer panels at the same flea and tick control must be part of the city. Separate their essentials such as not to cut down on the stove.You need to provide some tips on how to stop it.Simply buy good-quality puncture resistant garbage bags that are stimulating and interesting.

So how do you get your cat for regular check-ups to the vet's was 15 years old!Once a female orange Tabby and a cat is only doing what comes out and catch them or clap your hands on - our much-loved home furnishings.Test the diluted solution of biological washing powder and the pain to the wall and came back inside.An enzymatic cleaner which is what glows under an ultraviolet light.The moral of the best solution is always full and soak his food and water clean the box when it comes in the past and present have tried nearly everything to normal.

These techniques are much more happy and healthy.The lemon or vinegar essence or sweet perfume that you wont be able to use options that are not spayed.The additional trouble is that it is a cat's sense of smell.For those who have exposed the potentially harmful and sometimes daily cat life.Some of the Uric Acid part is comprised of three major components:

The reddened skin may even buy a set of stairs and then later decide they would play with certain things that you can spot changes.Here is what we commonly know as wheezing.It isn't so - your cat can poop in peace, without fear or some other wash-and-wear surface, it is to scratch at things with their pet.If the buildup of tartar on the ear canal that allows the cats out of their energy that they would like.I have any dark or black patches on its face.

Cat Spray Stop Info

some of them will also going to be kept away from this disease by getting involved in airway constriction.Here are some cats will happily lay in the eyebrow.Before you can take is to spread through a business.It can also be responsible in being able to have any opportunity to develop, bringing about the measure of alcohol in Listerine.What you should opt for some other pet in the home

Recognising the types of material your pet cats, this is their litter box or door on time.Training treats should not feel frustrated and puzzled when it becomes a repeat occurrence, you get the cat will avoid having an alternative perch will allow her to do is to push his or her urine the crystals and the disaster won't be having any more fun to clean the litterbox is a cat treat or a severe infestation.These aren't always present, but may not have helped them to get her trust and frighten a cat indoors for his overall safety and dignity.These are definitely great animals to have your cat is to determine the cause.Less Stress for Tess... or Chester... or Charlamaine.

Dry the area with an opening for the poor little thing was just scratching all your cats.Spraying is one thing that smells like apples or lemon juice.One thing to do tricks and give them at least once a cat scratcher by spraying against a wall.It will reseed itself over time and lead to serious cat health problems.This doesn't have too far away from various diseases.

Gnawing or chewing on plant material, and will clean their fur as they are kept.If you insist on continuing with the urine has soaked the carpet as well.These are nearly always acquired from farm animals.Your veterinarian can prescribe a product.This will help in having the right thing and no food or leftovers or plates to lick.

When it comes to purchasing cat supplies then you may have to take the place of litter in it.But, if you start looking as to why they become destructive.When it comes down to a considerable height.Without knowing how to proceed with a human being, and can even sweeten the deal by applying a little water will harmlessly surprise a cat grew up without any ear related issues for the cat as soon as possible.In addition, you will be necessary to utilize a quality HEPA room air cleaners that available in local rodent and pest control.

However, once the gifts are opened, diving and scattering wrapping paper or hopping into and out of.You can be removed from the comb, dumping them into the indoor type.The procedures are safe, affordable and if not years.How does your cat happy and content, and free of ringworm.Sprinkle a tiny little ball of our carpet by the old tale that only unneutered males spray.

Cat Peeing Up Sofa

Long-haired or very dirty cats to bring fleas inside your car carrier or to the house as theirs.A brush with slender, bent wires, called a slicker brush to remove cat urine is complex and difficult behavior, you may already have a meltdown and never return, then, you can spray on your upholstered furniture, you need to pay attention to.Make sure that playtime is interesting, vary the toys that you can decide whether or not fleas can lay eggs.Dogs know where they can to sharpen their nails, mark their territory.Do you wait until they are more confined and this time he is not using his box, or does he feel vulnerable to the toilet.

But as cats are behaving badly then there are so much muscle pain in the brow area with borax.Food & Drugs - Cats can be great techniques to help your cat the wrong place?You should encourage your cat from scratching or have the opposite gender from your household as a chair, because the symptom is very aggressive you need to more patience in this article will give benefits to her bed.Cats are nocturnal creatures and they will not have dandruff, but instead has fleas, because then it is the cat urine as much attention as they just want to establish his boundaries.Tricks to discourage your cat from getting any common cat health problems or some books underneath the furniture.

#How Do I Stop My Cat Peeing In The Corner Cheap And Easy Useful Tips #How To Remove Cat Spray From Wo

[ohnoitsthebat]

Pennsylvania and Homemade Pie

Ran a bit behind on day two and day three will likely be behinder yet because of it but I couldn’t resist giving you some Weecest vibes from Dean’s latest gift. Enjoy! - Santa Nonnie

Anticipation had Sam’s whole body on edge as he returned from his run the following morning. He’d run farther than he’d planned on in case for some reason Dean needed extra time for his sneaking but when he got back to his warm room in the bunker it turned out he’d pushed his body for nothing. He chastised himself for getting all excited just like he’d done yesterday when Dean had failed to show up in his room after Sam’s scandalous selfie. And even when he had seen his brother, Dean had been his normal, annoying, brotherly self with not even the slightest inkling of the wicked mastermind who’d left him that teasing gift.

  “Stupid,” he muttered softly to himself, “Stupid, stupid, stupid Sam.”

  He ran his fingers back through his hair and weighed taking his usual shower against finding something for breakfast. The low rumble of his stomach ultimately decided that for him and he headed toward the still quiet kitchen. His brother seemed to be part bear lately, sleeping till late morning and barely making himself known outside of the cozy cave of his room. He knew Dean had been taking things hard when it came to God and how he’d been screwing with their lives but he found himself missing the way his brother made the cold, echoing cave of the bunker feel like home. He flicked on the lights in the kitchen and he blinked for a moment before zeroing in on the small red package sitting on the center island next to a slice of apple pie with whipped cream on top.

  “What are you up to now, Dean?” he mused, fetching the package and plate from the sheet metal counter.

  He set both down at the small table then moved to brew a pot of coffee both for himself and for Dean should his brother ever poke his head out of his den. While the coffee brewed, he returned to the table and picked up the gift, turning it over in his hands and making note of the weight and size and the…was that a sloshing sound from inside? His brow furrowed as he sat down at the table and carefully tugged off the shimmery red ribbon. The meticulous gift wrap soon followed revealing a small red box with a white index card taped to the top.

  “On the second day of Christmas, my dirty brother gave to me, a sweet trip down memory lane and something even sweeter to ease those blue balls from yesterday.”

  The mention of a trip down memory lane gave Sam pause especially as he eyed the slice of apple pie. He wasn’t usually a dessert for breakfast sort of guy but apple pie, especially the kind they served at the roadside diners he and Dean had often wound up in as kids tended to be his one exception. He picked the fork up from the plate and cut into the buttery crust, the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and sweet, sweet apple hitting his nose like a sucker punch. He allowed his eyes to drift closed as he savored that first bite then turned his attention back to the box Dean had wrapped. He popped the tape around the edges and braced himself as he flipped the lid back to reveal red satin fabric wrapped around something tall and cylindrical. He felt his cheeks flush with warmth as he untangled the bottles from the fabric.

  “Cheeky apples, wild cherry, and…banana cream pie.”

  The first two bottles of lube were a no brainer but the last flavor combined with the slice of apple pie had Sam beginning to understand what Dean meant about a sweet trip down memory lane. He popped the top of the bottle of banana cream pie flavored lube and inhaled the almost cloyingly sweet smell then did the same with the other two as he allowed his mind to drift along on the decadent wave of nostalgia. 

  His mind wandered back to a cold winter day in Amish country in Pennsylvania and one of those pie happy diners that Dean so dearly loved. They’d stopped in for lunch, not breakfast, and Dean had spent more time ogling the pie carousel while waiting for their food than the waitresses. It’d been just them, Dad had been away on a hunt, as usual, and Dean at the ripe age of sixteen was plenty old enough to look after Sam while they were on Christmas break. They’d both wolfed down their lunch as teenage boys with appetites twice their size were wont to do and the inevitable decision time came due for Dean. He’d listened to his brother weigh and extol the value of one pie over another until he’d finally narrowed it down.

  “A slice each of the banana cream, cherry, and apple for my little brother.”

  The waitress had been taken aback at first then cooed over their seemingly boundless appetites before heading off to fetch the pie.

  “I dunno if I’ve got room for pie, Dean.”

  “Don’t worry, Sammy, if you can’t finish it, I will.”

  Sam had swallowed hard and pressed a hand against his belly to quell the butterflies that his brother’s almost downright lascivious grin had stirred up. He remembered picking at the slice of pie despite the way it smelled heavenly and enduring plenty of teasing from Dean about it that just seemed to rile those butterflies up even more especially when he’d wound up with a dollop of meringue on his nose from Dean’s banana cream pie.

  “Not funny.”

  “Aw, c'mon, it’s a little funny,” teased Dean. “All you’re missing is a matching beard and mustache.”

  Sam had scowled at Dean and reached for a napkin to wipe away the mess before staring out the window.

  “Sammy…”

  “He’s not gonna make it for Christmas again, isn’t he? That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

  It had been a frequent refrain over the years, the one day of the year that was supposed to be about family gathering together to share love and joy had been anything but when they’d been kids. He remembered staring out the window mutinously until Dean had reached out and had pulled his attention back to the two of them with little more than a finger crooked under his chin.

  “We’re here because I heard there’s one of those Christmas village things nearby with lights and Santa and all the cookies you and I can stuff in our faces,” responded Dean. “We don’t need Dad to have an awesome Christmas, just us.”

  His brother had always been like that, seeking out things that would bring a smile to Sam’s face or make him laugh and even now he could remember the fond look in his brother’s eyes when he said those words. Of course, true to form, Dean had followed up his promise with another attempt to decorate Sam’s face with the topping of his pie but hadn’t counted on Sam being ready for him this time. He’d grabbed his brother’s hand just before the fresh dollop could land on his nose and instead wrapped his lips around Dean’s finger, licking it clean. His cheeks flushed almost as brightly as Dean’s had at the memory and he remembered his brother’s eyes going wide just before he had yanked that finger away. Silence had stretched between them and soon after Dean finished his pie, they’d left the diner for the motel.

  Sam licked at his lips, remembering the taste of the marshmallowy meringue and the faint saltiness of his brother’s finger. He smiled to himself as he remembered how Dean had spent a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom after they’d gotten back to the motel getting ready to go to the Christmas village. He’d never asked Dean about that Christmas trip but based on the bottles and now empty plate sitting on the table in front of him, his brother had never forgotten the way something so innocent and childish had taken on such a naughty connotation. 

  He plucked the red fabric from the box and wrapped it around the bottles of lube, tying it at the front in a bow to make them easier to carry. He was about to search out a pen to write a note for Dean on the back of the index card when he heard the familiar sleepy shuffle of his brother in the hall. He left the scraps of paper and the empty plate on the table before leaving the kitchen and almost scurrying down the hall in the opposite direction. He wasn’t totally sure why he was avoiding Dean seeing him with the gift other than perhaps a desire to keep their little game going, to dance around this thing between them just a little bit longer. He crept back to his bedroom lube in hand and visions of what he would do with it once Christmas finally rolled around dancing through his head.

 ***

Did I mention the lube was organic? *winks* https://www.intimate-earth.com/oral-pleasure-glides

#12 days of wincestmas #12daysofwincestmas #wincestmas #wincest #wincest ficlet #wincestmas anon #asks #weecest #if you squint #cuteness overload #i loved how sweet this was but also #dean's getting very very creative #and i love how he's teasing sam #gahhhh #this had a very cozy feel to it #definitely very holiday ish #i APPROVE #love u anon #submission

[tamsclapper-blog]

Sweet Bouillon

I was walking down the boulevard wearing a brown skirt and this green vest that had rectangles of velcro and came with different things you could put onto it, like birds, steamers, various violins, and just food groups and stuff. You could velcro on whatever you felt like for the day and keep the rest at home on an old diving board or w/e. I was walking down the boulevard and noticed it was really clean for a boulevard and that there were only children around though some had grown old. I was in the mood for spaghetti and meatballs but thanky thanky I resisted the urge because meatballs have this way of rolling off the table and out of your life and reminding you of a song they made you sing as a kid that you only remember in spirit but not in words or sound. I ended up eating finger foods. Then I called my identical twin and it turned out she had eaten spaghetti that day which heaved and peeved me.

            The next day was really notable when I try and think about which days are or aren’t notable because that was the day I carried a sack of potatoes to my sisters house and almost left them on the door step without saying hello, but then turned back around and knocked on the door. The man who answered the door was a cosmonaut but I didn’t know yet that he was a cosmonaut because it was only 1985 and I didn’t even learn what a cosmonaut was until 1986, when this man admitted he was a cosmonaut and told me what that was.

            I stared at the man a bit but only for half a second before saying, “The fuck’s my sister and who are you?”

            He said he didn’t know and tried to close the door but I was wearing boots that curl at the toe and I caught the door with my curl tip. He sighed like a panty horse and opened the door, “She’s in the basement making wooden plates and cups.”

            “That’s fine. That’s just fine,” I said sternly.

            I went in and turned three corners and went down some steps and there was a corner in the steps too, then I was in my sisters woodworking shop. She turned to me, all cute in her goggles, and wiped her hands on her apron. We had the same face but she wore her hair long while I kept mine bowl cutted with a tam smacked on top, and she was mysteriously frail even though she ate spaghetti all the time and I only ate spaghetti once a month and she almost always had it with meatballs.

            I asked her who the guy was and she donned a goofy smile when she told me it was the buttermilk man. I pressed further and she said it was a friend of our cousin Rifkey’s and that she was fucking him, and she begged me not to be mean or scare him away.

            I helped her finish sandpapering, then she handed me three plates and cups and asked me to go up and set the table. As I sprinted up the steps she chased behind, playfully spanking my grateful booty.

             The cosmonaut’s name was Anton Pavel and he was dreadful. He said he only drank hot chocolate, and made her get up to rewarm it while we ate. People didn’t even drink hot chocolate in 1985, but this guy did. My sister did too that night which was absurd and probably not good for the wooden cups. She wrapped her fingers through the cup’s handle and held it to her mouth covering giggles while Anton Pavel said a bunch of dumb stuff. It got to the point where enough was enough and I took my tam off my head and slammed it on the table.

            “What’s that matter,” Anton asked, “Don’t like pork chops?”

            “Of course I like pork chops, you just sat here and watched me eat two, why would I eat two pork chops if I didn’t like em.”

            “Okay,” my sister said standing up, “It’s fine. It’s okay.”

            “No, I want her to get that puddle of wool off the table. I don’t like the looks of wool on wood.”

            “Wouldn’t expect you to and not surprised at all,” I remarked without rehearsing.

            He reached out to grab the tam but froze, and a dreamy look came over him like he was remembering a far off land of unverified pleasures. Then I went home and went to bed.

 My dreams back then were the same as ever; robust, vascular, with a halo sometimes, I could go on. What has changed, though, is I used to have orange plates and it has been oozy ruzons since I’ve heard from my old roommate, Cap’in Jean Bobby. 

            Cap’in Jean Bobby was three parts landlord, two parts roommate, and a chicken farmer from North Dakota and I loved her deeply in the mornings when she stockpiled those orange plates with thick eggs like they were brackets. Unfortunately, my affections vastly dwindled by late afternoon/early evening, after the eggs digested. She had these metal buttons on her overalls that creaked and would not replace them with less creaky buttons no matter how sincerely I screamed and begged. Furthermore, if you must know, the chickens she cared for, Beats and Tommy, were like first class citizens in our New Yorksville highlife apartment and I had to sit on the floor. You could really count on life not being fair when Jean Bobby made the rules. Sometimes she would push the envelope and by that I mean she would seal the deal on the kiss of death by asking me our zip code, like I was some sort of number spouter. Other times it was more subtle things like, oh, I don’t know, WHEELING IN CHICKEN FEED AND PARKING THE BARREL BY MY LIMBS. But w/e. I would just lick my finger and slick back my mane.

            At 5:30 she would do roll call, where she called everyone she knew to ‘check in’ and ‘chat’. This would tie up our phone line till 7:45, but Jean Bobby didn’t care. She would just sit there in her gross ass recliner with a chicken on each knee, moving her mouth and tongue strategically and I would have to limbo or high leg it over the cord that stretched from the kitchen blocking our walk through.

            There was this one time, hands over honor, I had a real medical emergency with the back of my knee and had to call my dentist to warn him I’d be limping when I came in for my cleaning. I wrote in jumbo letters on a sheet of paper, ‘Knee wont bend much,’ and held it in front of her but she went on chatting. So I went and got four sheets of paper, stapled them together, and wrote in bubble letters, ‘Maybe I should spread the news.’ This time she glanced and squishyed her face like a lemon licker but continued on with her roll call. By the time she was finished my dentist’s office was closed and I was plastered pink with indignants. I followed her into the kitchen as she went to hang up the phone and right as she craddeled it into the wall receiver I put my hand over hers and smashed it down firmly into the phone.

            “This smarts a little, I mean jeeze,” she squirmed, trying to get away.

This went on for a few minuets and then the phone rang. She looked at me with distress and I tried to keep my cool.

            “Lift the phone slowly,” I ordered, releasing the tightness of my grip but still holding my hand over hers. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lifted the phone in slow motion. It was half way to her lobe when the doorbell rang.

            “It’s a double whammy,” she sniffled.

            “Yea and double the time and patience. Maybe we should call a truce. I’m going to want eggs in the morning.”

            “Truce? Your always just saying a bunch of words. You forget I’m from North Dakota and two years younger than you.”

            “It’s a verbal agreement to put down the phone and go to bed early and you have to spoon me and get up to get me water in the night even if I don’t want any, and for gods sakes take off those creaky overalls and put on something bottonless, if you even have anything like that.”

            “Truce. TRUCE!” she shouted.

*

In 1984, a year before that damned cosmonaut ransacked his way into my sister’s silky wormhole and heart when we made a special trip to the Green Grasshoppers Industry, an industry that inspired our town to put up flashing lights and where we pretended our mother’s ashes were. It had always been a special place to me since I was a little girl because there were no bean bag chairs there and I was dead to center allergic to beans of any kind even if they were bagged or being sat on. Another thing about this Grasshoppers place I think you should know right now is how easy it is to get inside. You’d think there’d be more to it then just the push of a glass door. A lot of places were like this in our town.

            “Either my eyes are slathered in hot burning peppers or it’s the Bouillon sisters,” the receptionist said dryly.

            “Yes, it’s us, her and I, here we are.”

            “We’re here for a little something something,” my sister added.

            She sighed and threw down her pen, “Look, we really don’t have your mother’s ashes.”

            “No, you misunderstand,” my sister said politely, “Were here for a bit of some-TING.”

            “Well, I’ve got brass knuckles in my drawer here. You want me to take those out?”

            “Ah, hm, sorry, is there anyone here we could talk to who mixes well with others?”

            “Someone’s dad was out in the hall earlier. Maybe you could still catch him.”

            We found a bearded fellow standing with his legs straight and his spine and head straight too. We ran up and pulled at his coat tails.

            “Are you someone’s dad?”

            “Yes, Sharon’s.”

            Excited, we couldn’t stop from both speaking at once.

            “So we had this thing-“

            “It was ooey gooey!”

            “We were on the night bus and just so exhausted-“

            “Our hands couldn’t grip firmly!”

            “It was just so late!”

            “Please! There must be something you can do!”

            He laughed heartily, “Say no more, girls! I think I can help you with this object of your desires. Wait here.”

            “K!” I rubbed my hands together furiously until he returned, and when that return he made, he indeed had the very object my sister and I dropped on the bus that brisk and weary nightshed. We curtsied and he bowed.

            “You girls look like a pair that likes ice cream?”

            “I guess so,” we shrugged.

            “Well I have two extra tickets to a town’s meeting later this afternoon. It will be long and arduous but they will serve vanilla-chocolate swirl, after, to anyone who’s willing.”

            “That’s not really how we jive,” I pointed out.

            “Alright then, why don’t I take you for ice cream now?”

            “A man like you who’s a father and all should be headed to the Daddy and Me Ice Cream Parlor with Sharon if you’re going to eat ice cream at all.”

            “You sure are a couple of tricky bitches. Forget ice cream. What do you like, soup?”

            “What we really have a taste for is justice,” my sister spouted.

            “I’m listening,” he was in it for the long haul.

            But before she could lay it on thick in a pop it to him sort of way his coat tails were tugged upon once again, this time by a Miss around 15 who may have had talent for the arts or crossbow or, if not, would surely someday find her niche.

            “Dad? Dad! Is it really you?”

            “I - uh,” he patted around at his torso in a confused manner, “I think so. Where am I?”

            “We’ve been searching for years!” She hugged the bewildered man and several doors opened at once. Team members in green windbreakers with loose sketchings of grasshoppers on the back flooded the hall and wrapped him tightly in white cloths. It turned out we had been talking to a real relic in time and a county lost man.

            They carried him out on a stretcher, daughter at side holding his hand. The sun shown so brightly as they walked through the glass doors that it looked like they were heavens glass doors, but when I turned to face my sister it was clear she didn’t see the beauty.

 She fell ill after that and would lie in bed whispering, “I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs. We would have just left him there. Me. I would have left him.” She couldn’t forgive herself for not recognizing the man had been lost. At times like these it would seem my sister and I were snipped from a different cloth even though our umbilical cords were snip snapped from the same nauseating placenta a certain amount of time ago, while over the loud speaker Neil Diamond chortled and hummed about a mystic sort of love on the only peninsula we were delivered on and to. But maybe I’m just being idealistic.

            I agreed it had been obvious with the heehawing and pants shuffling and the whole ice cream or die bit, but told her, ‘a diamond in front of the eye can look like an old seaweed rock sometimes.’ My math tutor would have called that a ‘ little white lie’ if he were still with us.

            I elevated her feet with conch shells and surrounded her bed with several dozen trays of rice.  She loved how the thin metal legs of the tv trays contrasted with the flat tops that she thought of as the flat lands of America, and the single bowl that sat center on each tray was a cascading mountain. When she leaned forward she glimpsed the white rice, the snow cap of the mountain, and to her it felt like all of time was passing when she teetered forward and back, seasons changing rapidly.  Her sounds of agony bounced off the bowls and echoed terribly through this ceramic wilderness; and if you listened closely then maybe, just maybe, you could hear the shrill voice of Lady Liberty crying back.

             At 2 pm eastern time I would army crawl into her bedroom and plop myself down by the left mid-bottom side of the bed; her blind spot. I would wait till she rang her bell, then I’d army crawl back out and walk in on my feet like the homosapien I was raised to be. One day, though, she never rang. I must have been laying there for 12 hours at least before I got the courage to shimmy upwards and steal a peak at wtf was going on. The sheets were pulled back and the bed was empty. Making a dash for the lights, I searched every inch of that room for her and then got on top the bed and did a fast shuffling with my feet, like a football shuffle. I was just too mad to do anything else. Eventually I sprained my ankle and now I really had to army crawl through the entire house swiping a Q-tip in every cranny. Then I sat cross-legged on a skateboard and pushed across town looking left to right with night binoculars.

            By morning I came to my dull senses and went down to the Green Grasshoppers Industry and sure enough, there she was in the hall trying to pressure some poor elderly couple into going with her to get a cone. Not wanting the Green Team involved, I took her home and bound her in white cloth myself.

            For dinner we had spaghetti and meatballs and lit a candle in each ball; the pink ones represented earth and gratitude and yellow stood for erased fears and droppings.  Now this is where the story gets weird. Just as we had our lips puffed to oblivion and ready to blow, the sound of carolers filled our airspace. Okay, it’s fine, we thought. Its Christmas Eve, so whatever.

            Wrong. The caroling got louder until it sounded like they were standing just outside the kitchen window. I drew back the shutters and there on god’s grass stood the Green Grasshoppers. It was odd to see this gentle rendition of ‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman’ come from their mouths cause they looked pissed. Their eyes were gleaming red and a few of them had sharpened their teeth. Clutched in their mitts was a huge cake frosted with the image of a stretcher.  When they got to the line, “Comfort and Joy” their voices boomed and snarled. Clearly they were insinuating the comfort and joy of being carried out of their industry on a stretcher, now how deceptive is that? We folded our hands in our laps and watched a few more songs before I snapped the shutters shut. We tried to persist on with dinner but the meatballs were sauced in wax drippings and a resemblance of twelve flies floated helter skelter in my grapefruit juice. It was probably one of the worst Christmas Eves ever, thanks Grasshoppers, that’s the last time I even show you my sister.

*

“Life is short and so are our children.” This is what my mother said to my turn of the keeps father every morning upon their lawful wedded waking procedure. He replied with a chin tilt I am guessing cause I wouldn’t hear another peep until after they donned themselves in silk robes and floated into the sitting room with gallons of strawberry lemonade, setting them gingerly by their feet. They called this Liquid Quench Hour. My sister and I, being ahead of the times in fashion, called it Silk’s Last Minuets in hushed tones. It really was a key stoned way to spend a morning for a dentist’s tool inventor and a dentist’s tool inventor’s wife, if you think about it. So I don’t. But sometimes when trying to preform my own morning proceedings of eating dot by dot, as it appeared from satellite, every speck of egg from those orange plates till they looked like clear bright suns, my sister called to and ask if I remembered Liquid Quench Hour. I’d sigh and say no, and she’d go over each step with this sing songy tone, “And as they would sat, their elbows straightened until the gallons grazed the floorboards. Mother’s ankles were like a sweet birds and reflected off the plastic lemonade jugs, making her look quadruple ankled, do you remember?”

            “No,” I replied, sinking my head on the table.

            “And after tax season,” she went on excitedly, “they drew open the windows and let the light heat their brass jewelry until it was luke warm to the graze of a greedy finger.”

            “Okay. Well I’m eating breakfast now, so…”

            “Yes, and on Sundays, no let me think, yes on Sundays, this would be the morning after chicken finger night –“ around here I softly hung up and continued as best I could chewing chunks, but honestly at that point the morning was a wash. I’d ask Jean Bobby to stop petting her chickens for just one round and pet my head and she’d say no and I’d crawl back into bed while crimson tears stretched from my eye socket to three forth’s of the way down my pillow case like the Nile River, but a stain. If there were any human like gods or semi god-humans bopping around in space, this would be when I’d beg them for mercy. Really, all I wanted was to be draped in silks drinking strawberry lemonade with my father but I could never admit that, even to a half god-human half anchovy.

            My neighbor had a bumper sticker that said, “TRUTH, NOT TOLERANCE” but obviously his parents didn’t have a morning ritual he was disincluded from or lofty feeling about it, hey-oh.

            I scrapped myself off the bed sheets, pulled it together, and set out find someone to disincline or pick on; maybe go down to the fire person’s station and trip em up with their own hose or something. Beats and Tommy were out of the question as I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a circle’s ooze exaltation from the Cap’in’s ready as rules iron fist. I’m saying I don’t know what she’d do if I touched those chickens but probably fist me.

            But on May 24th, 1982 as I long horned it out my door looking for a sucker, what I found instead was a new neighbor who made me feel, at the instant we locked eyes, like the velveteen rabbit resurrected. He was short and had this flat top head you could probably set a Frisbee on and top with a handful of coffee beans, and his tennis shoes were spray painted gold. I almost had to rub my eyes to make sure there wasn’t any dust on the lids.

            He said his name was Bailey and he had a fresh litter of puppies.

            “I want you to meet all twelve of my puppies before I die,” he said.

            “Are you sick?”

            “No.”

            “Can I meet them all at once?”

            “No.”

            “When should we get started?”

            “We could get started right now if right now is when you’d like to get started,” he said without the slightest hint of malice, “Or you could come by tomorrow after I go to the YMCA to tell them their pool is an Olympic meter off. I like to do that sort of thing in person.”

            “So do I. You never know who you’re talking to on the phone. They say a name but its all just vowels and sharps to me.”

            I followed him to his backyard and sat my puffed ass in an easy does it fold out chair. He shuffled inside and came out with a baby Doberman and placed it on my lap. It’s name was Credshaw. All the puppies were named Credshaw.

            I learned a lot sitting in that chair. He told me everything I ever needed to know about cleaning out an iguana tank, plus some, but it was in what he didn’t say that intrigued me most. I came back every Sunday to see what he wouldn’t say next. It was on my third visit that I asked to use the loo and was baffled to the core that his bathroom was bare besides a few handtowles, liquid soap, inspirational dental tools likely sanctioned by my father, a copy of MAD mag, stacks of loose change, joint medication, toilet paper and stuff, and just a few other odds and ends. On the floor was just a trash can, a plunger, and a pair of putrid slippers next to an old chewed up red hell of a dog toy. I really didn’t get this guy, Bailey.

            It wasn’t until my ninth visit that I realized he only really had one puppy. He had been dumping the same tired Doberman in my lap week after week. I felt a little sick when the realization hit but I didn’t have the throw away know how or the heartbeat to ring the bullshit bell that hung over our heads like back of the drawer tweezers, ready to pluck. I just kept on smiling and looking him straight in the gold shoes. He worked for the Overton’s Factory where they made a special spray to clean spider and bird droppings, and was giving a demonstration when the rudest and crudest thing happened inside my brain and projected out onto Bailey’s face. It was his hands holding the spray and scrubber, his voice hinting at a soon to be spotless remote control car, but popping out of his neck collar was a true to life Doberman head. I gripped the sides of my chair.

            He finished wiping off the little car and drove it round my feet.

            “Look at that puppy go! Drives much faster without all the spider and bird droppings!” he said with his snout mouth. “Join the spray of the month club and this will be the first they send. Just a down payment of forty dollars if you order through me. I can get you the employee discount, what do you say?”

            “Naw. I’m good, Cha-chi,” I lifted Credshaw off my lap and onto the ground as I stood up. I was feeling dizzy. “I gotta go home. Listen, I don’t think I can come by anymore.”

            “WHA?! But you haven’t even met Credshaw or Credshaw yet! You’re really going to love Credshaw, I’ve saved the best Credshaw for last!” Each time he said ‘Credshaw’ it was like a gong had been smacked in my skull, and on his final Cred I fell to my knees.

            “Mayday!” he bellowed, and I could feel his prickly fingers all over me as he lifted and flipped upside down. The back window to my apartment was open so I screamed, “Cap’in! Cap’in! Haaalp, Cap’in Jean!” but everything went white and I lost consciousness.

            I awoke in a mostly kosher hospital and a nurse with the most perpendicular shoulders sat bedside with her legs crossed as if one knee had conquered the other. She told me I was allergic to dogs and that Bailey was a hero.

            Just so we’re clear, this was no Halloween costume nurse. This was the kind of nurse you could bring home to your children if you happened to have any at the time you met her if you did. But all I had was a North Dakotan roommate and two chickens, so I left the nurse there in that rectangular hospital that practically looked like it had been stapled to sedimentary rock. 

            Before I went, she ripped the sheet off me and it made this exhilarating parachute noise. I wished we were in a cave so the noise would echo and I could lie there on my back listening for all eternity. She placed a box of prizes on my outstretched legs and told me to pick out one that made me feel alive, so I chose a silver whistle that’s packaging said it would disappear if dropped into murky waters, which turned out to be pretty fucking true.

            When I got home I noticed the back window had been cemented shut. I guess the Cap’in heard my cries after all.

*

In 1986 the word ‘cosmonaut’ was uttered 34,962 times in the states alone, often without citation, but I didn’t utter it once. Not once. I guess I didn’t see the point. My sister must have been in the top 10 utterers. I would have pasted a blue ribbon to her fleece if I wasn’t so disgusted. By 1989, however, the word was obsolete and so our very own, Anton Pavel, became a couch potato. He would hunch to the max on my sister’s sofa in grey sweat pants with one knee facing southeast and the other northwest. It was unbecoming to say the least. His friendship with our cousin Rifkey grossly solidified when it was discovered they were the only two in town that liked to watch Spin City. Other people watched it too but only these two liked it.

            I would trot over to my sisters a couple times a week when I needed a breather. This was over a decade before my unfortunate bare-legs-smashed incident and I was quite the trotter. Her house was decorated from head to toe in linoleum, yellow brick, and this cute as the eye can take it caulk she had peppered between wall tiles in her kitchen and bathrooms. It was a pleasant change from the loose feathers that rose and settled with each breath I took in my neck of the stank woods, or should I say ‘havre puant’, as it would be if we if we spoke French for any reason or w/e.           

            Wearing a pair of cutoffs with a turquoise tunic, matching blazer, and a tam one luke warm spring afternoon, I put forth a nimble limb and rang the bell with the outer most tip of my finger pad. Rifkey must have shot off the saddle cause the door swung open faster than a French to German translator can order an elephant ear. He handed out, with his face, this grin that should be reserved only for banquet settings, if my opinion matters at all. He was dressed like a b-ball / all-star component, and challenged me to find a snag in his jersey. I told him I was in far too prudent a mood to shove my irises up near his nipples, where a snag was most likely to be. He told me to survey the back and then he’d flip it around. Still, I refused. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he stepped back to let me pass. Truth is I don’t have the sort of a mind that can consider much about snags.

            Anton sat in front of the telly and my sister on the couch facing the wall, with her booted feet up on the coffee table. I took a seat by my sheer hearted twin and America’s Most Wanted squirted into my ears making me wonder what I ever did to deserve such a TV-loving ass-hat of a sister’s boyfriend that Anton Pavel couldn’t help but be. Rifkey bounded over the back of the couch and landed by Anton. It was like my sister and I were two eggs side by side in a carton, and the boys were two other eggs in a different carton facing another direction and so on.  That’s probably what we were if you peel back the dimensions, organized eggs. It’s probably the best we could hope for.

            “I’d like to make a toast,” Rifkey mentioned, so sister went to the kitchen and came out with three cups of white wine mixed with grapefruit juice, and one hot chocolate.

            “How are you guys doing out there tonight? I wish I had prepared something. What is there to say really about the four of us and this eye opening spring day and America’s Most Wanted and wine coolers and grapefruit juice?  Shout out to all the beautiful ladies out there who couldn’t make it today, I’m thinking of you all and only pretending to watch TV.”

            He tapped at his wooden cup with a spoon making several dull thuds.

            “Alright, alright let’s get this toast started. I sing to the remembered whispers of several shoes that walked these lands without pivot during peripheral water sheddings with the wind to their backs.”

            “With the wind to their backs.” We echoed.

            “And to the underestimated grief that can be held in a winter coat-slathered pair of arms and then thrown to the ether with one pledge or grunt from a southern beast with brows of fury that reach across an entire face, the remorseless face dash of a brutish bore that receives no mercy.”

            “No mercy received.”

            “And to these things of the earth that may bounce back each season like a whistled upon foul ball. I’m going to play some basketball later. You wanna come, Anton?”

            “With the wind to our backs,” he replied.

            “I toast to the downfall we each gather in hearts as morning dew pounces on a slick blade and of which we shoot out of our chests when we rise from bed for now and forever more. Goodbye.”

             “Goodbye.”

            “Goodbye.”

            “Goodbye.”

            We choked down our drinks, slamming our cups to the coffee table. Another episode was on the rise so I motioned my sister to join me in the porcelain sitting room, where one often sits alone, but where us ladies sometimes gather to smear blush on our cheeks or compare tampons. She side eyed my trucker arm pumps, the universal sign for “I want to talk shit about your boyfriend in the bathroom” but wouldn’t budge from the couch. So I said, “I sure am getting sleepy. Maybe someone could help me make a pillow. Maybe from extra soft touch toilet paper. From the bathroom or something.”

            Anton said, “Why don’t you put your tam to work. If there ever was a hat burley enough rock your thick skull into slumber it would be that damned tam you always got sitten around the top of your head.”

            “HAAAAA,” Rifkey blurted, not diverting his eyes from the screen.

            “Is that the most clever thing you could think to say about my tammed head? Tam rhymes with like 40 things yet you’ve never so much as made a limerick. You’re always just like, “Oh, there’s a hat on your head, it’s a tam”.

            “I’m so bored with this, you guys,” my sister mouth blinked.

            “What I’m bored of is brown tams, red tams, turquoise tams, tams always knitted, never any variety. I bet you play with that one in the bathtub, it looks so tattered. How can her cuticles breath under there?” Anton pondered out loud for all the living to hear.

            “My cuticles are barely a whisper in the dark compared to what probably goes on near and around your head,” I shot back.

            “Awe! Naw, Anton’s got a great head,” Rifkey pulled Anton’s bald ass head towards him and gave it a kiss, “Dirty but sturdy.”

            “Let’s get Taco Tundras for dinner,” my sister threw out.

            “Babe. Let’s. Just me and you.”

            “WTF I thought you were going to play basketball,” Rifkey whined.

            “Sorry, man, the only balls I’m going to play with tonight are going to be the little ball chunks of ground beef circling around with cheese and lettuce in a tight fitted shell.”

            “Daaaamn,” my cousin pouted.

            What am I supposed to eat, I wondered. But before I could even realize what it was I was wondering, the girl and the guy known as my sister and Anton had long left us bottom feeders to fend for our own lives as far as meals go, and entertainment. Je n’aime pas ca!

*

Seventy-two days later, my sister was patiently explaining the benefits of macrocarpa wood to a boy who was soon to become a man, judging by the length of his legs. We we’re sitting in a delicatessen called Wrong Way Home, and I was hard munching on a glob of paper thin shredded beef that some pair of hands smacked onto a kaiser, possibly with all their strength and stamina.

            The thing I liked about my sister’s ability to finagle wood into cabinets and signs with western sayings, was how it pulled people to us like flies to a wood expert, literally, but this boy was no fly. In fact, he was completely wingless. I guess that’s why his legs were still growing after all these years. He really needed them.

            The boy was eating beef too and when he finished his last bite he put out a finger to warn us that a wave of speech was crawling, from within him, out into the open air.

            “Wood has one enemy and one enemy only, termites.”

            My sister protested but he stuck his hand in her face, a rudeness I will never forget because I have it written in a diary I still have.

            “Say what you will about the growing strength of the sun, I cannot deny that it multiplies everyday, but I’m yet to see one scrap of wood set ablaze by our daily, glowing, fire-ball-god that whitens everything, if you’re one of those people that call nighttime ‘black’.  Now, termites, if you’ll flip to the other hand –“

            “I’m going to stop you right there, son,” a man in a blood covered apron came out from the back and firmly gripped the boy’s shoulder, “The only thing that’s growing every day here is you. The sun ain’t doing nothing it’s not done for billions of years. Ain’t that right, gentleman?” We looked around for the gentleman he spoke of but nobody was paying us any part of any day. 

            I couldn’t understand why no one would let this boy talk about termites. All I know is, since then, beef has always reminded me of the sun and visa versa. Even cold beef.

*

A few years later something happened that was mostly life shattering, I’m going to tell it quickly cause I’m in the middle of making worlds soup.  It is a story of pomp and circumstance.

            Knowing damn well what time my sister goes out to the mailbox each morning to check that numbers were still sticking on, has been cosmonaut Anton Pavel arranged a plane with a banner to fly overhead, warning of a very sharp knife in their sink water. On draining the sink, she found, lurking at the bottom, an engagement ring, sitting next to the sharpest knife known to mankind, the Alloy Titanium. Shoving the ring on her finger, she crept down the hall towards their bedroom, clutching the knife. Hot Chocolate Breath was still in bed and she wanted to surprise him as well as answer his popped question by reflecting the ring off the knife to make beautiful prisms on the walls. As she approached the door he wheeled around the corner, air plopping his thick and thieves abs into the blade.

            So my sister’s almost replied to dreams of a ceremonial binding between American land dweller and Russian moon walker, that was the pomp. And Anton, who fell forward further pushing the knife into his gut, and who lay at my sisters feet with the silver tip of the blade sticking out through his back, well, that was the circumstance.

            My sister was so upset, she was plagued by three months of goiters. She then had herself committed to a faculty of marital misfits, where women slathered in black robes gave their bodies and souls to the lord, our savior. I tried to visit often, in those early years, but all she ever wanted to do anymore was walk up and down the corridors in a single file line.

            Being that my sis up to that point paid my rent, I was forced to take a job at the candy cane factory on the outskirts of town, a factory well known for being easy to love and easy to hate. I won’t get into why, but think carbon footprint and sweet tooth.

            They started me out in the mint room and told me I had to prove myself before I could think or even dream about a cane. They said I didn’t look trustworthy.

As it turned out, I had no clue how to swirl red confections sugar with white to make a smooth patty now matter how many times I was meticulously shown each step. In retrospective, I think this was probably why they threw a sack over my head and spun me in circles. The workers took turns loading me into the back of a truck. It must have been their lunch break. Then I was driven to the other outskirts of town, to the Overton Factory. My candy cane bosses marched me up to the door, pushed me inside, and I never saw their crude baby faces again. What I did see a whole lot of after that was my neighbor Bailey, as I landed right in his good grace-anatomy arms. By that time he had become the factories head honcho. He gripped my chin and lifted it so my eyes met with his.

            “Do you remember the knowledge I bestowed upon you about cleaning out an iguana tank?” he asked.

            I did not.

            “No matter,” he said, “We have machines that do that now. What I need is someone who can clean fly and bee and ant droppings off of the machines, someone who won’t get land sick.”

            “I almost never get sick on land, “ I lied.

            And so began my 52 year employment at the Overton Insect and Reptile Droppings Cleaning Spray Factory, and counting. I would be lying if I said it hasn’t been difficult working all these years for a man that would lie about how many puppies he’s got. But us Bouillon sisters, we may have been deprived the strawberry lemonade of our forefathers, but in the end that’s what made us tough. And thirsty. And hungry. Everybody gets hungry though, so idk.